> The Trial of Princess Celestia
>  by Mani-Roar
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luster Dawn sat somewhat uncomfortably in her wooden desk chair. All the while completely engrossed in a dauntingly large legal studies textbook from the Canterlot Royal Library. Legal Studies was a far cry from her favorite subject, but a necessity for her courses under the direct tutelage of Princess Twilight Sparkle. Feeling a bit distracted, she wondered what a younger, unicorn version of the great ruler of Equestria once looked like. Reading these same old texts and scrolls, and perhaps even sitting at the very same desk that Luster now sat in.

She refocused once more and forced herself to read the sentence on the page:

A constitutionally limited monarch is bound by the same rules and laws that her (or his) subjects must adhere to.

She audibly groaned at the words. "Then what's the point?" Luster complained aloud. 

"What's the point of what?" A regal and majestic voice called back to Luster Dawn. Realizing she wasn't alone, she spun in her seat to see the Princess herself standing in her study corner in the castle library. There were many private study rooms available in the great royal library, so she hadn't expected Princess Twilight to stumble in on her. Her eyes went wide in surprise.

Twilight Sparkle's appearance matched the grand nature of her voice. She was tall and had a natural air of confidence about her. A vision of dignity and grace in her stance. Her shoulders were locked back and chest held high. Her expression was calm, yet also amused and curious. Her crown and long flowing hair only added to her prestige and regal appearance. 

"What's the point of being a Princess if you have to follow the rules just like every other pony? As Princess, don't you get to make the rules? Can't a Princess just do whatever she pleases?" Luster pouted with her lips scrunched to the side of her mouth. 

Twilight smiled as she shook her head lightly, "No, my little pony. A Princess has the responsibility of keeping her subjects happy and safe. That leaves very little time to simply 'do whatever she pleases.'"

Luster dropped her jaw and gave her teacher a look of bewilderment. 

"Then why bother being a Princess at all? It sounds kinda annoying actually." Luster waived her hoof dismissively. 

"You know, I don't disagree with you." Twilight chuckled which only confused Luster further. 

"Well, count me out of the Princess’ business. Sounds to me like it's for suckers." Luster scoffed. 

Twilight stood stoic only raising a single eyebrow in response. 

"No offense." Luster offered a half-hearted apology. 

Twilight calmly walked over to the book shelf. With her back turned to Luster, she gathered an old and dusty looking history text from the shelf with her magic. Even a mundane spell like this had a certain weight and elegance to it that was lacking in most unicorn magic. 

"Luster, have I ever told you the story of Ollivander Trotwell?" Twilight studied the text cover carefully.

"No, but it sounds like some sort of boring required reading from primary school." Luster rested her hoof on her cheek. She had the feeling a lecture was just around the corner. 

"Far from it. In fact, most schools prefer not to cover this at all. A pity because I think the story is very important to pony history." Twilight turned around to face her student again. The book was opened to the first page, held up by the princess’s royal magic. 

"Ollivander Trotwell," Twilight continued with an ominous tone in her voice, "and the rebellion of 481." She looked directly into Luster Dawn's eyes, waiting for her reaction.

"Wait a minute," Luster looked a bit confused, "481 as in the year C.E. 481? Celestia’s Equestria 481? You're telling me there was a rebellion against Princess Celestia smack dab in the middle of her millennium long rule?" Luster's eyes flew wide open as she realized the full implications of that title.

"Yes," Twilight slowly and grimly nodded her bejeweled crowned head. "It was an internal conflict that nearly ended her reign once and for all. And was a pivotal turning point that forever changed how rules and laws were carried out in Equestria. Would you like to hear it?" Twilight tilted her head slightly to her right with a sly grin on her face.

"Would I?" Luster shouted indignantly. "I have to hear it! How could this have happened? Why have I never heard anypony talk about this?" Luster was practically pleading with Twilight to tell her. The Princess simply nodded her head in agreement. 

"That's exactly how I reacted when Celestia read this story to me." Twilight was about to begin reading when Luster abruptly cut her off with an onslaught of excited questions.

"So how big was the rebel faction? How many battles were there? How massive was the royal army's response force? Did they execute the rebel leaders? How many ponies died?" Luster's expression lit up as she finally paused and awaited a response. 

Twilight was slightly concerned by how enthusiastic those awful questions came out of her student's mouth. But she decided to let it go for now. 

"Zero." Twilight stated flatly. 

“Zero?!” Luster echoed, completely bewildered.

Twilight lowered the book slightly, enough to peer over the edge. Despite the outburst, she calmly continued her explanation. 

"This was a bloodless conflict with no armies and no fighting and no deaths." She shot Luster a somewhat judgemental look with the word 'deaths.' "And yet, it nearly tore asunder the peaceful Equestria that Princess Celestia worked so hard to help build."

"How is that possible?" Luster's brow wrinkled at the confusing thought of a bloodless yet devastating war.

"Well," the Princess sighed as she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "I could try to explain it myself. But I think the first few lines of the book do it more justice."

Luster scooted to the edge of her wooden chair as Twilight cleared her throat, raised the book, and began to read.

'A stroke of the pen, a word from the judge, and a crack of the gavel are more powerful and dangerous than any army Equestria, nor the world at large could possibly muster. For what is a ruler but a mere pony, and what mere pony could be fit to rule? These are the accounts of the trial of the millenia. This is the story of the Trial of Princess Celestia.'

Luster Dawn gasped so loudly she clutched her mouth shut with her hoofs in embarrassment. 

"Princess Celestia was on trial? How can that even happen?" Luster shook her head at the thought. 

"You know it's funny you should ask that." Twilight remarked, but continued reading instead of answering the question.

'The Princess entered the grand hall of the Canterlot Royal Courthouse. Despite the impressive size of the venue, and the attendance of over 1000 pony witnesses, including the highest nobility and military rank in Canterlot, the room was nearly silent. The only sound that could be heard was the scraping of chains across the ornate marble floor. Iron chains bound to iron shackles that gripped the hooves of the once proud and powerful monarch of Equestria. The year was four hundred and eighty one of Celestia's Equestria. But soon everything about her reign would come into question; including the nomenclature of the very date itself. 

There was no crown upon her head. Her chains were the only jewelry she had left on her body. She had been stripped of all other possessions and imprisoned against her will awaiting her trial. The all-powerful monarch could have used her magic to easily break the chains. She could have overpowered her captors and used her wings to fly high into the air and away from the courthouse. Away from the accusations and her so-called punishment. But she knew the hearts and minds of the very subjects she claimed to rule were what was really at stake here. Such a blatant show of force would forever tarnish her name and only serve to prove her accusers justified in their case. Her accusers, of course, knew this and were counting on it. 

Celestia marched forward in silence with her head held high. Her mane flowing like an effervescent wind in the stale air of the courthouse. She was confident and unafraid. Or at least she appeared to be. Any show of weakness would be used against her now. She was escorted by six officers of the court. Large bulky stallions with years of fearless service flanked the princess on all sides. Their stern expressions failed to hide the anxiousness on their collective faces. The thought of trying to apprehend a resisting alicorn princess was enough to make any warrior shake in his hooves. If it weren’t for the shackles around Celestia’s ankles, one would have thought they were the prisoners and she the jailer. She elegantly stepped into the defendant stand and noisily sat on the firm oak bench. Her ironclad chains finally came to a rest on the floor as a deafening silence continued to fill the room. 

Olivander Trotwell approached the judge’s bench. It was a high rise wooden platform that towered over the witness stand which sat directly in front, just across the courtroom. From that position he would literally be talking down to the Princess and his attitude would bear the same. Trotwell was a modestly dressed earth pony. He wore his military jacket, indicating his prior service as an officer in the royal army, instead of the usual judge’s robe. He was hoping to establish himself as a colt of the ponies instead of a court official. Everything about today’s trial was focused on optics and public opinion. His wavy blond mane flowed freely, uninhibited by a ceremonial wig or restrictive headdress. Despite the fact that he was born of noble blood, he looked like a commoner pony who had risen to prominence through public service. Which was exactly the impression he was hoping to give off. 

“Good morning.”

His stern voice rang throughout the courtroom, breaking the silence. The whole room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief having been permitted to move again. Slight murmurs and well wishes could be heard exchanged, but still quiet enough to respect the courtroom. The judge’s bench was several meters wide with two additional seats on either side of Ollivander. To his left was a sheepish looking blue pegasus pony. She was dressed in a judge's robe and wore her official white powdered wig. On Ollivander’s right was a middle aged looking unicorn. His fur was a faded amber and also wore the robe and wig. His expression was one of concern. Concern as to what was difficult to discern but he seemed to sense that something was indeed off. 

Behind the judges and to either side of the main hearing area, sat the members of the Lower House of Parliament in their tiered stadium seating of polished benches that encircled the room. Two hundred and fifty representatives from every corner of Equestria and it’s protectorate regions. Above them was a second level balcony that was filled with seats, but void of bodies. Here the Upper House of Lords would normally sit, but the entire level was conspicuously empty. Behind the witness stand where Celestia sat, was the public seating section. Every row and pew was filled to the brim. Hundreds of ponies, many of them the Canterlot elite, had come to witness the greatest trial in the history of Equestria. Many of these elite audience members were the very members of the Upper House who’s regular seats were currently vacated. The Bailiffs, also assigned as Celestia’s personal guard detail stood outside the hearing area, separated by a simple wooden bar, but still close enough to respond if need be. Military guards were posted at the exit and a full regiment stood at attention outside the halls in case they needed to be called upon.

“If everypony is present and accounted for. I’ll have Judge Rivenbolt read the charges for the accused.” Trotwell stared daggers down at Princess Celestia. His voice was calm, but his face betrayed the disdain in his eyes. Madam Rivenbolt stood from her judge seat and gingerly opened a scroll with her hooves. She shook so terribly that she nearly dropped it, but just barely managed to hold her grip. 

“Our benevolent Prin…” She began to say, but stopped herself and glanced nervously at Trotwell for just a brief moment. “The Princess: Celestia, is hereby charged…”

“Former Princess.” Trotwell interrupted, causing Rivenbolt to flinch. She reluctantly continued.

“Our former Princess, Princess Celestia, is hereby charged with treason…” She swallowed nervously before reading the next item on the list.

“…murder, war mongering, and conduct unbecoming of a member of the Canterlot Royal Court.” Rivenbolt finished the charges with a quivering frown on her face. The audience began chatting rather loudly amongst themselves, having now heard the full list of charges together for the first time.

“Order.” Trotwell shouted as he hammered his gavel on the bench. The echo of the heavy wood striking the stand sent a hush over the crowd. 


“Murder?!” Luster Dawn looked dumbstruck.

“I know, I know it’s… complicated.” Twilight tried to explain, but her student wouldn’t have it.

“Lies! Insults! Slander! How dare they say that about the Princess.” Luster looked like she was ready to fight somepony. Twilight understood how she felt and simply nodded.

“Many ponies then and now would agree with you. But if you listen to the whole story, you may change your perspective.” Twilight’s voice was calm and tender like a mother or a patient kindergarten teacher. 

“You mean she’s guilty?” Luster blurted out. Twilight gasped, but quickly regained composure. 

“No, no I assure you Princess Celestia did not commit murder…” Twilight paused for a moment and chuckled, “Wow that’s a sentence I never thought I’d have to say.”

“Oh… yes of course not.” Luster looked down at the floor, a little embarrassed at her outburst. The thought of Equestria’s most famous and beloved Princess being accused of murder was just unbelievable.

“Anyway… where were we?” Twilight continued her reading.


“How does the defendant plead?” Trotwell demanded with callous conviction. Celestia held his gaze. With years of perfected practice, she matched the sternness of his expression, but lacked his malice in her calm voice. 

“On what authority am I accused?” 

The crowd murmured to each other but Trotwell was undeterred. He knew this question was coming, he just wasn’t expecting it to come this soon.

“You will answer the accusations.” He stated flatly.

“If I am to answer accusations, I will first understand who exactly is accusing me.” Celestia glared back defiantly. 

“Submit your plea and I will answer your query.” Trotwell said slightly less confidently.

“If an authority cannot be named, then the accusations are invalid and I will answer nothing.” She answered smartly.

Trotwell leaned forward in his seat towards Celestia. His patience wearing thin.

“If you refuse to answer you will be held in contempt of court.” He fired back, letting his blooming anger curl his upper lip into a snarl.

Celestia kept her face neutral, but her next words held their own kind of power. “If there is no proper authority, then this is not a court.” Celestia responded loudly, but still not shouting. Her Canterlot Royal voice echoing across the chambers, the audience members in attendance could feel her conviction in their bones. 

Ollivander considered his options. If he removed Celestia from the courtroom it would look like he was afraid of the question. However, answering her would allow her to take control of the court as she directed the hearing conversation. He had to wrestle it back from her quickly. 

“You are charged by the authority of the Canterlot Royal Court Assembly.” Trotwell reluctantly answered. 

“And who, praytell, does the Canterlot Royal Court Assembly derive their authority from?” Celestia failed to hide the grin that slowly crept onto her face. The question was a trap. The obvious answer was Princess Celestia herself. Although admitting that fact created a difficult legal paradox.

“The court derives its authority from the current ruling monarchy of Equestria.” Trotwell said softer than any other sentence he had said thus far.

“I am the current ruling monarch of Equestria.” Celestia began to let a bit of irritation slip into her tone from having to defend her honor and title in such a way as this.

“You are a traitor to ponykind!” Trotwell shouted back. His sudden screaming and emotional outburst took Celestia and the whole courtroom aback. Celestia remained undeterred.

“And as the ruling monarch of Equestria, who am I supposed to have committed treason against? Myself?” Celestia bluntly laid out the legal paradox. Since the founding of Equestria, a Princess had never before been put on trial. 

“Your treason is against the ponies of Equestria.” Trotwell said calmly and smugly. Regaining his composure quickly.

“And what legal precedent is there for such an ambiguous authority?” Celestia asked. She shifted in her seat causing her chains to noisily rattle. 

Trotwell knew the precedent didn’t exist. He and his supporters were treading on uncharted legal ground. The legal basis was as thin as an early spring frost on a lake. 

“How do you plead?” He repeated.

“On what authority am I charged?” Celestia repeated as well.

“We will discuss this during evidentiary arguments. I will have you plead now?” Trotwell waited for Celestia’s response but, again, it didn’t come. She just sat there stoically holding his gaze until he finally looked away for a second.

“If you are unwilling to submit your plea, then I will hold you in contempt of court.” He waited a few more seconds for her to respond. She gave him nothing but a pregnant pause. 

“Bailiffs!” He shouted, and the guards who escorted Celestia in began making their way towards her. 

“We should recess.” The older judge on Trotwell’s right spoke up for the first time. 

“I will not have the accused disrespect the court. Even if she is…” Trotwell began to argue but was cut off by his fellow judge.

“Ollivander…” was all he said and Trotwell decided to relent.

“We will adjourn until tomorrow. And at that time…” He looked intently at Celestia. “I will have your plea.”

The gavel cracked and the guards stood waiting for the Princess. She slowly got back to her feet and followed them out the back of the courtroom. As she walked past the pews filled with onlookers, she heard cries and shouts in her direction. Some were in support of her, but many were not. Celestia listened as she was chided and mocked by her own subjects. Each insult was like a sword piercing her heart. She wanted nothing but peace and happiness for her subjects. And even if the charges against her were false and handed down from an illegitimate court, she still felt that she had failed them.



Ollivander and his inner circle crowded the judge's chamber in the small room adjacent to the courtroom itself. 12 ponies, including himself and the other two judges, comprised his legal team and closest co-conspirators. The office was large and luxurious, but 12 ponies was pushing the limit of what would be considered comfortable. They all gathered around a table with just barely enough space to accommodate all parties. They weren’t quite sitting shoulder to shoulder, but it was close enough to feel the waves of emotions pouring off of each other. The mood in the room was tumultuous if not somewhat sour. 

“She doesn’t respect the court!” Trotwell smacked his hoof on the table. There was a collective sigh but otherwise hardly a reaction to his sudden show of force. 

“She’s toying with you. She knows she has the upper hoof.” Rosencolt stated plainly with his hooves crossed in front of him. His brow furrowed as he glared down at the empty table in front of him. As if he were pondering his army’s tactics for an upcoming battle.

“A prisoner toying with a judge? It’s unheard of, unacceptable.” Trotwell ranted. 

“She is no ordinary prisoner. And it’s high time you started acting like it.” Rosencolt grunted to accentuate his point. The other ponies at the table cautiously nodded, afraid to challenge Trotwell on their own. 

“Oh so should I be bowing to her majesty and asking permission to conduct her trial?” Trotwell rubbed his wavy hair in frustration.

“No, but treating her like a common criminal is a mistake. She still has many supporters. If the court appears to be unfair, she will gain more followers to her cause.” The General glanced in Trotwell’s direction out of the corner of his eye. 

“If she doesn’t submit a plea tomorrow, I will hold her in contempt of court and we will conduct the trial in absentia. Her refusal to answer is a clear act of…” Trotwell was cut off by Rosencolt.

“You’re a fool Ollivander.” 

The other members gasped at the outburst.

“You’re a brilliant commander and a charismatic leader, but your zealotry has always gotten the best of you.”

Trotwell sat down to collect himself.

“As my old commanding officer, I suppose you would know that better than anypony else.” Trotwell conceded.

“She wants you to hold her in contempt. She’s tricking you and you’re playing right into her hooves. The public will never accept the result of a trial in absentia. If the Princess is not able to defend herself, it will come across as false and cowardly.” Rosencolt’s voice softened a bit as he looked directly at the slouching Ollivander. “Your pony republic will be doomed before it even begins.”

“So we have to play her game?” Trotwell said annoyed. Rosencolt simply nodded. 

“Alright,” Trotwell sat back up sharply. “How do we convince her to plead?”

“We need a better answer to her legitimacy argument.” Rivenbolt spoke up for the first time. She had been frowning ever since she read aloud the charges in the courtroom. “We have to establish precedent. Then she will look foolish for not answering.” Her eyes darted nervously to Ollivander. Something was clearly bothering her, but he chose not to press her on it for the time being. 

“We can’t establish precedent where there is none. A Princess has never been tried before. There is no law permitting it.” Trotwell said as he shook his head.

“There is no law forbidding it either.” Rosencolt countered as Rivenbolt nodded in agreement. 

“If we can make a reasonable argument for how a Princess can commit treason, we can establish the court’s authority and get the other charges applied as well.” Rivenbolt’s hooves were shaking a little bit.

“Explain.” Trotwell said curtly.

“I… I… uhm…” Rivenbolt’s trembling spread to the rest of her body. She looked fearfully at Trotwell.

Trotwell sighed and softened his expression.

“It’s alright. I know you don’t care for public speaking. But your expertise is invaluable to our cause. So please," Ollivander’s voice was tender and calm, "How do we establish legitimacy for the court in the absence of a monarch?"

Rivenbolt's shoulders relaxed as she released the built up tension in her neck.

"At the founding of Equestria it was declared that a Princess of Equestria and the ponies of Equestria are one in the same. This was mostly meant as a ceremonial declaration of unity and friendship, however this founding declaration is recognized by every court in Equestria. If we interpret this document literally, then a Princess can, in fact, commit treason against herself if her illegal actions have harmed ponykind." Rivenbolt blurted out as if she had rehearsed the statement.

"Brilliant!" Trotwell declared as he smacked the table and triumphantly raised his hoof. Everypony seemed pleased with the excitement except for Rivenbolt who flinched at the table being struck a second time. 

"Here we all have been scrounging and scraping through statutes and scrolls of legal text for weeks trying to establish our legitimacy, yet all we needed was the oldest writing in Equestrian History that every school foal can recite from memory. Ha!" He gave Rivenbolt a delighted affirmative nod. "Nothing gets past you, my dear Rivenbolt."

"So she can commit treason. That's all well and good but how does that give us the authority to be the arbiters of a trial against the monarchy. Need I remind you that we, illegally, expelled the House of Lords to hold the vote that gave us the very power of judicial review we claim to have?" Rosencolt soberly rebutted. However, Trotwell didn't miss a beat.

"The Luna rulings from 6 CE. After the co-founding Princess Luna was banished to the moon by Celestia herself. The High Court ruled that Luna committed treason by attacking her sister monarch and Equestria. Her banishment was therefore legally upheld by parliament." Trotwell looked around the room at his fellow co-conspirators. Their looks of confusion showed that they didn't seem to grasp where he was going.

"I see." Trotwell leaned back in his seat.

"I don't." Rosencolt raised his eyebrow at his former subordinate. 

"Tomorrow you will. For I will not only establish our legitimacy, I will also force Celestia to plead." Ollivander grinned smugly. The corners of his mouth wrapped so far up his cheeks it looked almost unnatural.

"You are confident she will plead? That alone would be an acknowledgement of our legitimacy." Rosencolt was thus far unmoved by Trotwell’s bravado.

"She will plead or she will flee in disgrace. That, my dear friends, I am certain."

With that, the meeting ended and all parties went home to retire for the evening.



****



The second day of the trial began much noisier than the first day. The overwhelming silence was replaced by whispers and chatter throughout the chamber. Ponies were debating with each other, questioning the legitimacy of the court itself. Many wondered if the trial would last to midday before it was exposed as a farce. Celestia seemed even more confident and elegant in her entrance. Her guards looked more bored than afraid this time. As if they were just going through the motions of an unwanted ceremony. 

Trotwell, Rosencolt, and Rivenbolt took their places at the judge's table. Rivenbolt appeared nervous as usual. Rosencolt looked as neutral and unreadable as ever. It was Trotwell’s infamously boisterous demeanor that would betray how well the prosecution saw their chances of victory. He sat down briskly with his head held high. His eyes declared that he was here with a bold purpose that would not be denied. If anypony thought that Trotwell would look sheepish and humbled by the previous day's antics, they were sorely mistaken. He looked like a Stallion who had already won. And wore his inevitable victory like a smug mask.

"Good Morning." His voice was strong but also pleasant. The courtroom quieted down a bit but not enough to his liking.

"Order, order I say." He banged his gavel several times and the crowd fell into a subdued silence.

Once he gathered control over the room, Trotwell began his opening remarks.

"A Princess is one with her fellow Equestrians. And the ponies of Equestria are one with their Princess. May peace, prosperity, and friendship follow us forever and ever."

Everypony in the room recognized the declaration Trotwell was quoting from. Most ponies could remember standing before their primary school class, saluting the Equestrian flag, and reciting the whole declaration from memory.

"This declaration clearly states that the Princess and her subjects are the same legal entity. Therefore a Princess monarch can, in fact, commit treason against her subjects. They being an extension of the crown themselves."

A powerful and thought provoking opening statement. All over the courtroom, in the audience, and among parliament, one could hear whispers of a single phrase being uttered. A single, controversial phrase that had been debated for centuries in high pony society, but never put into law before:

Popular Sovereignty.


"Popular Sovereignty." Luster echoed to Princess Twilight. "Now that's a term I do know."

"Oh you do?" Twilight’s face lit up with glee for her student. "In that case, before we go on, what does Popular Sovereignty mean?"

"Is this a pop quiz?" Luster's eyebrow rose in suspicion. “No pun intended.”

"Hmmmmmm…" Twilight looked to the ceiling as she pondered her answer. "Yes. Yes it is." She nodded her head decisively. The Princess was never a mare to turn down a good test.

"And what happens if I fail the pop quiz?" Luster sighed as she asked.

"You'll have to write a full oral presentation on Popular Sovereignty and present it to me." Twilight spoke with no sign of joking or sarcasm on her face.

"Yikes." Was all Luster could think to say in response. She scrambled to collect her thoughts and bring forth the best answer she could.

"Ok so Popular Sovereignty is the idea that ponies govern themselves." Luster looked anxiously at Twilight.

"And...?" Twilight offered, clearly expecting more to the answer. 

"And… they get to do so by… voting… through popular… opinion… sovereignly?" Luster grimaced hoping it would be enough. 

"You're so close." Twilight remarked, shaking her head. 

"Close enough?" Luster asked.

"I'll let you know after the story." Twilight drew her attention back to the words on the next page of the old book.

"That's Princess speak for 'no’.” Luster slouched down in her chair disappointed as Twilight continued reading.


Ollivander Trotwell had done the impossible. Without stating it outright, he had tied the idea of Popular Sovereignty to the oldest and most well beloved doctrine in Equestria's history. To argue against Popular Sovereignty now would be like arguing against Equestria itself. Like the flick of a switch it seemed as if the idea had been around since the very founding of Equestria.

"Princess Celestia." Trotwell loudly called her name over the mumbling of the courtroom. "You stand accused of treason, murder, war mongering, and conduct unbecoming of a member of the Royal Canterlot Court. How do you plead?" His smug smile radiated from his face.

Celestia paused only for a moment before responding. 

"On what authority do you bring these charges?" She parroted her words from the previous day. 

Not wanting to be caught in an argument loop like before, Trotwell chose to change his tactics.

"What authority indeed?" Trotwell feigned bewilderment as he glanced about the courtroom. He wanted to gauge the temperament of the room before going off on a wild tangent. Everypony seemed to be deeply invested in what Olivander would present next. A court that stood on a knife's edge of being declared false and prejudiced, suddenly had the undivided attention of all who bore witness. Much like a masterfully conducted play in a large theatre. 

“Princess Celestia.” Trotwell began. Celestia took notice that he wasn't qualifying her as a 'former' anymore. A note that was quickly answered by his next question:

“Why are you not a Queen?”

Celestia paused for a moment. She was certain he was trying to set some sort of trap. Somehow the answer to this question would be used against her. But she could scarcely think how. 

“An appointed Monarch may be titled as a Queen or a Princess. There is no distinction in prestige or power…” Celestia began defensively, but Trotwell cut her off.

“Yes, yes, it makes no difference. The court is well aware that the title is irrelevant to the power of an active monarch. This is not an attack on the authority of your title. I am simply asking…” Trotwell stroked his chin and eyed Celestia with a genuine look of curiosity. “Why not Queen Celestia? Surely a simple matter of title nomenclature can be cleared up by Your Majesty.”

Celestia was more suspicious than ever now that Trotwell was referring to her as 'your majesty.' He had been at odds with her rule for more than a year at this point. 

“So please, Your Majesty, enlighten the court. Why are you not a Queen?”

Celestia could think of no reason this line of questioning was relevant to anything having to do with Trotwell’s planned coup of her crown. But neither could she think of a reason not to answer.

“According to tradition, a Queen must be married. I have never been married.” Celestia admitted. Once the words left her mouth, she felt a little embarrassed by them. A small hint of blushing could be seen on her beige complexion. 

“A pity.” Trotwell replied, "Is that by choice? Or perhaps most stallions find you too intimidating?" He snidely remarked.

Despite the borderline inappropriate nature of this line of questioning, Celestia was no stranger to answering personal questions as a well known public figure. 

"I was once intended to marry a Stallion. At the founding of Equestria, we were to be wed and crowned King and Queen of the new pony nation." Celestia said while looking down at the floor. Her voice was much softer and less boisterous than just a moment before. 

"And why didn’t that happen?" Trotwell lowered his voice as well. The acoustics of the room still carried their voices, but the conversation suddenly felt less formal and more intimate. 

"He was killed by wendigos when they attacked the pony tribes." Celestia sighed. She often thought of the pony she once was meant to call husband. But she rarely spoke of him.

"And how exactly did our 'would-be-king' die?" Trotwell blurted out casually, as if he already knew or the answer she was about to give was already boring him.

"His name was Dawnbreaker!" Celestia's royal Canterlot voice abruptly boomed across the chamber catching everypony off guard.

"And he was a great stallion who would have made a fine King for centuries to come." Celestia defiantly glared at Ollivander. Her defense of her lost lover was much stronger and more impassioned than any defense she had offered for herself thus far.

"Go on." Trotwell said neither acknowledging nor debating Celestia’s claim on the dead Prince's character. 

"Everypony knows the story of Hearth's Warming Eve." Celestia reluctantly continued. "But it wasn't as simple as the leaders of the pony tribes coming together in friendship. For weeks we worked together to spread harmony and friendship across the three pony tribes.” She paused in her tale, remembering what they went through, and feeling the weight of their choices. “But the Wendigos didn't take kindly to their source of food turning away from them. They attacked us at every opportunity, trying to feast on every last fleeting drop of hatred and discord."

Celestia’s gaze turned outward to the crowded courtroom. "We were trying to evacuate pony refugees who's homes along the mountainside had been devastated by Windigo destruction just days before. But before we could escape down the mountain, they attacked us in numbers we had never seen before. It was their last hurrah, the final showdown to torment ponykind before we fully embraced harmony and cut them off forever. Dawn and I…"

Celestia smiled softly as she called him 'Dawn.' It had been centuries since she had uttered his name as such. 

"We faced the Wendigos alone in order to  buy everypony time to escape down into the valley. But Dawn insisted that I see to it that the refugees made it safely through the mountain pass. My sister Luna was still a child. She was too young to lead or fight. He told me to go look after her. He said he could handle the Windogos alone.”

She paused, drawing in a sad breath and letting it out through clenched teeth.

“He lied. They were too much for anypony, no matter how powerful, to stand alone against. I watched him fight as we fled down the mountain. He fought fiercely and with such raw power. Such speed and ferocity. He held them at bay long enough for us to escape. But then, he was struck down. I saw him fall to the earth. Motionless. Helpless. Alone. I shielded my sister's eyes from it, forbidding her to watch him die in such a terrible way. I will never forget the sight of it. I flew to his body, praying it wasn't too late. But he was already gone. 

That day I learned that harmony unites ponies not only in joy and friendship, but also in tragedy and death. As I wailed over his body, sobbing uncontrollably, the Windigos couldn't approach me. A great and bright power erupted from me as I held his limp head in my hooves. This strange power drove the Wendigos back from the mountain. We never saw the likes of them in Equestria again. Harmony had forever united the pony clans. Dawnbreaker's sacrifice was the final casualty to the founding of Equestria."

Celestia closed her eyes as she recalled a simpler time when harmony brought everypony together. Now she wondered if her failures would tear everypony apart. This trial was politically motivated, of that there was no doubt. But there were seeds of doubt on her ability to rule. Many of her subjects had lost confidence in her wisdom and leadership. This trial was merely the manifestation of those doubts.

"Dawnbreaker wasn't quite the last casualty was he?" Trotwell remarked, breaking Celestia from her brief meditative state. 

"What do you mean?" Celestia looked genuinely confused. 

"At the founding of Equestria, it was intended for there to be two monarchs. Is that correct?" Trotwell asked.

"Yes." Celestia responded plainly. 

"So you admit that by its very nature, your status as the sole monarch of Equestria is less than ideal?" Trotwell added accusingly. 

"We believed that the dual leadership of a loving union of monarchs would be more harmonious than a single ruler, yes." Celestia admitted. 

"So your sister was crowned as your co-ruler instead of your late husband-to-be." Trotwell said. He clearly knew the answer to every question he was asking.

Celestia fearfully stared at Ollivander as he towered over her from his judge’s seat. She finally understood the meaning behind his line of questioning. 

"My sister, Luna, was young. But we knew in time she would grow to be a wise and intelligent leader." Celestia fought back tears as fiercely as Dawnbreaker had fought back the Windigos. She turned to look at Rivenbolt, her former assistant. A mare who knew so much about Celestia’s personal life and history from years of service and friendship. Rivenbolt averted Celestia’s gaze in silent shame. She couldn't bear to confront the pain and betrayal in her former boss's eyes. 

"Then please inform the court, where is Princess Luna now? Why is she not co-ruler alongside you to this day? Is that not what the founders of Equestria intended? To have the harmony of co-rulers and not a sole tyrant such as yourself?" Trotwell’s voice grew harsher with every word. 

Celestia chose to ignore his deliberate insult. 

"Luna grew jealous and greedy. She betrayed Equestria and rebelled, attacking Canterlot and myself directly. I had no choice but to take action against her." Celestia explained. 

"And thus you used the elements of harmony to imprison her on the moon for a thousand years. These elements, I believe, are the source of the very magic you used to defeat the Windigos, is that correct?" Trotwell demanded. He squeezed his gavel with an iron grip.

"Yes. I didn’t know it at the time but later determined that must be the case." Celestia admitted.

"So you discovered a great power that you alone could wield, as far as anypony knows, and suddenly the only two ponies who could potentially challenge your power and authority conveniently ended up dead or imprisoned on the moon. If such a thing could even happen in the first place. Traveling to the moon is beyond any known unicorn magic. And non-alicorn ponies do not live a thousand years to prove your story wrong. Who is to say that Princess Luna's body isn't buried somewhere deep beneath the castle next to Prince Dawnbreaker?" Trotwell pointed his gavel directly at Celestia. His accusations stunning the courthouse including his supporters and colleagues. 

It had been many moons since Princess Celestia had permitted hate to enter her heart. She believed that she loved and cared for everypony under her charge. Yet here she sat, shackled in chains before a courthouse accused of treason and murder. She glared at Ollivander Trotwell with scarcely a single coherent thought able to cross her mind. All should could feel was one single overwhelming sensation throughout her mind, body, and soul:

Hatred.

And nothing is more dangerous than a monarch who is overcome with hatred. 

Trotwell could see the change of emotion on her regal face. The former Princess wore her anger like a jewel in her crown. Impressed that he got this kind of reaction out of her, he leaned forward, circling back to the very beginning and spoke his question once more. 

"Princess Celestia, you stand accused of treason, murder, war mongering, and conduct unbecoming of a member of the Canterlot Royal Court. How do you plead?" Trotwell demanded once more.

"On what baseless authority do you bring these ridiculous charges?" Celestia blurted out. Her temper finally flaring nearly out of control in her voice.

"Baseless?" Trotwell protested. "The Equestrian parliament elected this court and its council to conduct these proceedings."

"Lies!" Celestia shouted back. "Not a third of you decided that. You expelled the House of Lord's and held a vote in their absence with no quorum or legitimate authority to do so." Her voice pierced the rafters.

Trotwell slammed his gavel three times in an effort to preemptively silence the room which he was sure was about to erupt into disorder.

"You will not make a mockery of this court!" Trotwell shouted as he continued to pound the gavel. However, it had little to no effect on the crowd. Ponies in attendance yelled protests and admonishments. Order was seemingly impossible to restore. Celestia seized the opportunity.

"This court doesn't need me to make a mockery of it. You did so when you abandoned justice for personal gain and glory." Celestia's royal canterlot voice cut above the roaring crowd, egging them on. 

"I demand these charges be dismissed. That this insult of a trial be brought to an end at once."

The crowd erupted in cheers. Cries of "Here here" and "All hail Celestia" could be heard in concert throughout the massive hall. 

"We must recess." Rosencolt had to shout into Trotwell’s ear just to be heard. "We will  reconvene with parliament and remind them why they support our cause. We cannot hope to control this mob while the Princess has them rallied." He reasoned with Trotwell, but the ambitious judge was unable to pay him any heed because his attention was suddenly being pulled elsewhere.

"Rivenbolt!" Ollivander shouted out, Although his words were completely drowned out in the chanting mob. Rivenbolt had left the judge’s bench to walk straight into the middle of the hearing chamber. Right into the heart of the lion's den. She stood before the Princess and stared straight into her eyes. 

Celestia ceased her rallying cries to her audience and met Rivenbolt’s gaze. There was so much Celestia wanted to say to her former assistant. So many questions she wanted answers to, not the least of which was why did she go down this path of betrayal? A pony she once called a friend and trusted more than any noble, or advisor, or politician. But Celestia could recognize when it wasn't her turn to speak. She raised her royal hoof high into the air and within moments the crowd fell silent again. The sudden switch from chaos to silence was jarring to say the least. All eyes fell on the tiny blue pegasus pony that stood in the center of the hearing chamber. 

"Princess Celestia, you will hear the court's justification for quorum. And you will hear the evidence behind the accusations that have been justly brought." Her voice was incredibly soft. The acoustics of the room were just barely enough to allow her to be heard at all. "If you will not even do so much as face your accusers, then you have no right to call for an end to the proceedings." 

A small, barely noticeable tear dripped down Rivenbolt’s cheeks. Only a pony as close to her as Celestia would have been able to visibly notice it.

"If you will not hear us, then you have no right to call anything a mockery of justice." Rivenbolt's wig fit a little too big for her head and her robe was loose around her shoulders and slumped slightly. A year ago she was nobody. She never held an office or a title in high pony society. But she knew the Princess. 

Celestia looked up to Trotwell then back to Rivenbolt. Neither pony made a move or said a word. Rivenbolt held her ground and kept her gaze squarely on the Princess. Everypony in the room awaited her Royal reply.

"Very well." She said in a soft tone that matched Rivenbolt's. "I will listen to what my accusers have to say." She glared once again at Trotwell. He was the source of all this torment so he deserved her glare.

"Ollivander Trotwell." Her royal Canterlot voice returned, "Explain yourself." She reclined slightly in her wooden seat. The shackles on her hooves rustled at the motion. 

Trotwell sat up straight in his seat and rolled his shoulders back. He patiently waited for Rivenbolt to slowly return to her seat before continuing. 

"The Luna rulings of 6 C.E. upheld Princess Celestia's banishment of the rogue sister Princess. However, this post facto ruling set an unwelcome precedent." Trotwell was done with games. No more posturing. He was ready to simply make his case. If the mob still demanded he step down after saying his peace, he would live with it.

"The monarchy was designed by the founders as a dual leadership. And the Princess, despite having good cause, and despite acting in the best interest of Equestria…" Trotwell paused. The way he worded this would have to be delicate. Sympathy for the Princess was at an all time high at this point in the proceedings. 

"She still acted as judge, jury, and sentencer of a fellow Princess without consulting Parliament or the judiciary. Even for an absolute monarch, Parliament, at the time, found such a use of power to be too… well… absolute. So a provision was made." Trotwell cleared his throat before continuing.

"If a Princess were ever again to betray Equestria, Parliament was allowed to declare a state of emergency to discuss an appropriate course of action up to and including expelling the monarch from power. After the events of the past several months involving our northern borders, which we will dive deeply into during the trial, both houses of Parliament agreed to declare a state of emergency and convene."

Rosencolt's eyes shot wide as Trotwell plotted on. Ollivander was way off script of any strategy their entourage had discussed. He feared his comrade was giving away too much information.

"However, once the idea of a trial was brought up, the upper house refused to even entertain the thought. So they filly-bustered and blocked the vote. As speaker of the lower house, I declared that the upper house had failed to act on the emergency. Thus, as per the provision of the Luna rulings, I legally expelled the upper house and held the vote to go to trial and…" He looked once again down at Celestia. A confident smile returned to his face.

"Here we are."

"The expulsion of the upper house and the vote to arrest me were illegal. You should be facing treason charges, Ollivander." Celestia shot back. The court audience members could be heard arguing with each other loudly over the matter. 

"You're right." Ollivander admitted simply.

The room quieted down again, at least somewhat. Most ponies, especially Celestia, were struck with confusion over Trotwell seemingly admitting defeat.

"The state of emergency, the expulsion of the upper house, the vote, the arrest, the trial, all of it is illegal. Unless!..." He shouted so loud, everypony held their breath waiting for him to continue. 

"...You, Princess, are guilty of treason. If the charges against you are true then the state of emergency and all subsequent actions are justified. And you will forever be stripped of your crown." Trotwell laid the gambit out as plain as could be.

Celestia and the entire court could now understand the brilliant yet desperate strategy of Ollivander Trotwell. Everything hinged on the trial itself. Either Celestia was guilty and bound for banishment, or prison, or whatever the court deemed necessary, or she was innocent and her accusers would be the ponies facing justice. 

She could hear the whispers all around her. The doubts about her rule and leadership. The doubts that she would even accept the legitimacy of the trial at all. She could still wiggle her way out, but then what? Another vote? Another coup? Another trial? The last several months had been the most challenging for her as a ruler. A cascading series of failures and setbacks that hurt her subjects and marred her credibility. It was only a matter of time before this situation would come to a head again. But the next time may be on a battlefield instead of in a courtroom. The thought of a pony civil war was more than she could bear.

"Princess Celestia." Trotwell looked down  at the prisoner. Though this time, perhaps, they were finally on equal terms. He had her trapped. 

So, one final time, he asked:

"You stand accused of treason, murder, war mongering, and conduct unbecoming of a member of the Canterlot Royal Court. How do you plead?"

Celestia knew she had to face her failures now. The longer she waited, the more devastating the results would be. However, Trotwell held all the cards. He and his cohorts were judge, jury, and potentially executioner as well. Everything was stacked against her from the shackles on her hooves to the gavel in Trotwell’s grip. Her thoughts turned to her sister Luna. Stranded on the moon because Celestia was too naive. She thought of Dawnbreaker. Sacrificed to the Windigos because she was too weak. How many more ponies would need to suffer under her charge? Even though it meant her reign would come to an end, she refused to let any other pony be hurt because of her.

She’d stand trial, and see her title restored.

"Not guilty." Celestia hung her head in shame as the gavel cracked.
> Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We are undone, Ollivander." Rosencolt sharply pointed out. Trotwell and his cohorts had once again retired to the judge's chamber at the conclusion of the day's trial. 

"I interpret today's events very differently, my good Marshal." Trotwell, calm as ever, parried back to his old commanding officer.

"If we do not convict the Princess of treason, we ourselves will be guilty of treason. How can any reasonable pony consider that a fair trial? This charade has been exposed. You've stated it plain as day. In public. On the record." Rosencolt folded his arms and held his usual scowl. 

"I told you this would be a trial of public opinion. As important as the legality of our actions is, the fact is that the common pony must see the Princess as a traitor, not just us. Not just the House. Not just anypony. Everypony must be made to see her for the fraud that she is." Trotwell was confident yet indignant in his response. He sounded like a child justifying himself to his father. Rosencolt was perhaps the only pony in Trotwell’s circle who could speak to him in such a manner without severe repercussions.

"Legality is out the window." The General complained. 

"This is legality's only chance!" Trotwell raised his voice in his usual hot headed manner. "If we should fail here then civil war is the only possible outcome. I do not wish it, but if we are unwilling to at least threaten it, then we have no power. You taught me that, Rosencolt." Trotwell pointed accusingly at the General. 

"I taught you to have a well calculated show of force." Rosencolt replied in a noncommittal manner. Trotwell's cohorts began arguing with each other over the prospect of a civil war and how it would be conducted. 

"There's no need for a civil war." Rivenbolt's voice was barely audible amongst the chatter. "We have the evidence. We have the testimony. And we have the law. Once the court and the public hear our case, she will be undone. It's just as Trotwell says, it's all up to public opinion now." Rivenbolt finished and everypony took a moment to consider her words.

"Thank you, Rivenbolt." Trotwell nodded in her direction. She said nothing, refusing to return his glance. 

"Tomorrow we'll call Major Stableton to testify first about the events of Edenborough and…" Rivenbolt paused. She was unwilling or unable to continue her thought.

"Actually I want to go with the Sergeant instead." Trotwell jumped in. Rivenbolt looked at Trotwell aghast. 

"Sergeant Poppyfield is in the infirmary. He's still mentally unwell. He's not fit to testify." Rivenbolt complained. 

"Has he gone mute?" Trotwell asked incredulously. "He has combat sickness. Helmet shock, as they say. I'm not asking him to hold the front, I just need a word with him." Trotwell said as if the matter were settled and no debate was to be had. 

"But…" Rivenbolt began but was cut off by Rosencolt.

"As a rule I do not subscribe to 'combat sickness' as a proper excuse to dismiss a soldier from duty." The General put a nasty emphasis on the term 'combat sickness.'

"But in the Sergeant's case I find it…" He paused for just a moment with a glimmer of empathy, "...understandable."

"Combat sickness is a serious ailment." Rivenbolt stood up and leaned over the table, balancing on her front hooves. "We cannot just dismiss his wellbeing." 

"We do not have time to debate such a matter." Rosencolt remained seated as his voice grew louder. "And besides, I acknowledge the condition in this case." 

The General sighed as he pulled a cigar out of a small case he kept at the table. Nopony said a word as he calmly cut and lit the cigar, returned the utensils to the case, and took a long and labored drag. He slowly exhaled a puff of smoke so large, it immediately set a layer of mist about the room. Rivenbolt sat back down. She held her chest with her hooves and looked solemnly at the table.

"Ollivander, are you sure you need the Sergeant's testimony?" Rosencolt finally spoke. "We have a commissioned officer ready to testify. He organized the retreat from Edenborough and can speak to the greater political situation near the border. The non commissioned officer, Poppyfield was it?" He looked at Rivenbolt and she softly nodded her head.

"Right then. He doesn't have the broader perspective or political insight." The General took a second and much more leisurely puff of his cigar. 

"I don't need his political perspective." Trotwell declared curtly. "He has something better." Trotwell smiled sinfully, briefly forgetting himself. He cleared his throat and wiped the grin away, not wanting to give the wrong impression. 

"Oh?" Rosencolt asked intrigued. 

"He has a first hoof account of the attack. When he tells his story, everypony will be able to imagine themselves in his situation. We need ponies to connect with the atrocity on a personal level. A refined, polished officer's approach simply won't do. And the public won't care about the larger political picture until they feel the imminent danger of our threat to the north." Trotwell reasoned. His cohorts seemed to nod in response except Rivenbolt who still shook her head.

"Then we have Major Stableton testify after?" The General asked.

"Actually, I was thinking it should be you." Trotwell looked intently at the General. Rosencolt took another long drag of his cigar in response. 

"A judge testifying at his own trial?" The General complained. 

"You're still worried about a conflict of interest? I thought legality was out the window?" Trotwell mockingly asked.

"It's as you said. Everything from here on out is about optics. If I testify as a judge it looks bad." Rosencolt rebutted.

"Then you won't do it?" Trotwell asked, though he didn't sound particularly concerned.

"I shall recuse myself when the time comes." The General held his smoldering cigar in a reclined position. "You'll need a replacement."

Trotwell looked across the table to a young unicorn stallion. He had a light green coat of fur and a white mane. 

"Representative Dewey Mills of Fillydelphia." Trotwell said suddenly. The young colt jolted to attention when spoken to.

"I'm right here Ollivander, no need to get all formal with titles." He joked, trying to break the tension.

"Indeed." Trotwell smiled. He was no stranger to irreverence himself. "You will take General Rosencolt's place as judge when the time comes."

"Who me?" Dewey Mills pointed to himself in surprise. "I-I have no experience as a judge I… I…" He stammered.

"You were hoping that if this trial goes poorly, you could slip away unnoticed. That your privilege as a parliament representative would let you get away in the chaos. Is that right?" Trotwell said accusingly.

"Well, come on now, it doesn't have to be like that Olliv…" He began sheepishly, but was cut off.

"It does have to be like that. And you will take your place as judge. Or perhaps your constituents would like to hear about your colorful past? I'm sure that would do wonders for your political career." Trotwell’s eyes were on fire as he threatened the young Dewey Mills. 

"Hey uh." Dewey swallowed hard. "All you had to do was ask. It'll be nice to take the stand from the other side. First time for everything, am I right?" He blurted out in a rushed manner. 

"And a last time for everything as well." Ollivander softened his expression. "Thank you for your continued assistance, Dewey. I'm sure you'll make a fine judge." Trotwell stood from his seat. "I'll see you all tomorrow." He left the room without another word.

The room was awkwardly silent after his departure. Rivenbolt was beside herself, lost in thought. Rosencolt remained reclined with his cigar, staring at the ceiling. Dewey looked to everypony in the room, waiting for somepony to say something. Anything at all to break the silence. When none volunteered, he took the initiative. 

"Tomorrow's gonna be a real picnic ain't it?"



****



Ollivander Trotwell sat perched on his Judge's bench with his two cohorts flanking him on either side. Princess Celestia craned her neck slightly to gaze upwards at him. The room was cold and her iron shackles had worn red indentations into her soft white fur. Her mane, still translucent as ever, was ragged and messy. Her eyes looked deprived of sleep and her figure looked hungry and malnourished. Her supporters would say she couldn't eat or sleep knowing the ponies of her kingdom had suffered. Her detractors would say she was fasting and depriving herself of sleep on purpose to look more sympathetic. 

"The court will now hear testimony in regards to the alleged crimes of the accused." Trotwell was specific in avoiding any honorifics in regards to the Princess. "We call to the stand, Master Sergeant Poppyfield of the Army of the Northern Province 54th regiment." 

As soon as Trotwell finished speaking a soldier stood up from the front row of the public seating area. He was a burgundy colored earth pony in a sharp dress uniform. His Forrest green jacket was laden with rank insignia and honors at his shoulders and lapel. He donned his cap, equally crisp and decorated as his uniform as he slowly marched in perfect step towards the hearing area. A bailiff lifted the wooden barrier for him. The soldier paused to salute the gentlecolt and the bailiff saluted him back. With a stiff but graceful stride, he came up to the witness stand off to the right side of where the defendant Celestia sat. He stood at attention and saluted again.

"Sir, reporting as ordered, sir." He shouted in the general direction of the judge’s bench.

"Please have a seat." Trotwell said in a conversational speaking tone with a soft nod. The Sergeant complied and sat in the witness chair. His shoulders were square and his back straight. 

"Master Sergeant Poppyfield, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you…" Trotwell paused for a moment as he incredulously glanced at Celestia. "...so help you." He finished as he focused on the Sergeant again.

"Sir, yes sir." The Sergeant said firmly but a bit quieter this time.

"Very good. You were present at the sacking of Edenborough, is that correct?" Trotwell asked.

"Yes sir. We were ambushed, in fact." The Sergeant boldly added a correction to Judge Trotwell’s statement. 

"Indeed." Ollivander conceded. "Please give the court your account of what happened on that day."

"It was a rather uneventful weekend at first. You see, Edenborough is the last outpost just south of the Griffin border. It supports the larger trade city of Mares Creek. Our small town was mostly occupied by the civilian population. Our regiment made up a garrison of barely 150 soldiers." The Sergeant recalled quite calmly. 

"Is 150 a large garrison for a border town such as this?" Trotwell asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Oh hardly." Poppyfield responded immediately. "The Griffins will keep a guard five times that size on their side of the border. Maybe more in some cases." 

"So your presence there was hardly provocative, would you say?" Trotwell asked a leading question. Celestia knew she had a legal right to object. However, she feared interrupting the soldier's story over such a seemingly trivial detail.

"No sir. In fact, if I'm being honest, it was fairly light duty. We mostly just lived there alongside the residents. Sometimes helping out the locals with odd jobs here and there. We were pretty well integrated into the culture, I'd say. Everypony was on a first name basis, so to speak." The Sergeant smiled for a fleeting moment before his expression dropped and he sighed.

"Go on." Trotwell prodded the Sergeant to continue. 

"We barely had a moment's notice. A pegasi scout, well…" Poppyfield paused to try to find the words to clarify himself. "He's a scout unit in war time, but in peace time he's really just a message courier. He carries messages and such across the border as needed." The Sergeant swallowed hard as his frown grew.

"He came flying into town, just above the rooftops of the houses and shops. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. I'd never heard such panic in a colt before." Poppyfield's voice started to quiver ever so slightly. "He said, 'the sky crawlers are coming.' He shouted it over and over again until his voice was hoarse." 

There was a disruptive murmur amongst the audience that forced Trotwell to obtain clarification on the name.

"Sky crawlers?" Trotwell curiously asked.

"Uhm. Yes sir." The Sergeant admitted, a little embarrassed. "That's a… a… a nickname we give the Griffins sometimes. You see they don't fly smoothly in straight lines like our pegasi do. They sort of wobble and claw at the sky like they're crawling through the air or something. I realize it's an inappropriate thing to say, so I apologize. B-but that is exactly what our scout said. Word for word."

"Well if that's the case, then the court takes no issue with it." Trotwell dismissed the insensitive and mildly racist terminology. 

"That's when they came." Poppyfield's voice changed. His words were more labored and he sounded deeply upset. "The sky turned gray, like a naturally occurring storm moving impossibly fast across the horizon. There were so many of them. I couldn’t begin to count, but it had to be over a thousand.”

The Sergeant stole a glance at judge Rivenbolt. She looked at him apologetically, her eyes filled with empathy. However, she was powerless to free him of the burden he had to tell his story. The Sergeant continued.

“When they hit the town, they swooped down on the streets like a tornado. They just started slashing and clawing at whatever and whoever they saw. They made no distinction between soldier or civilian, they just attacked. You see they were Griffin light infantry. They usually don’t carry weapons because their talons and beaks are natural weapons. Plus they can move faster unarmed. It helps them close the speed advantage that our superior Pegasi warriors would normally have on them."

Poppyfield swallowed so hard, one would think he was ingesting a lump of coal. 

"But this time, during this attack, our Pegasi could scarcely even get into the air. And those who did were immediately cut down. There was no hope gaining air superiority or even taking the fight to the sky to spare the town. Our garrison was barely 150 strong, and we were being torn apart with the rest of the citizenry. I was in the middle of the town square when I saw a Griffin swoop down directly at me. His eyes were like a wild beast. He crowed so loud my ears rang. He was on me so fast, I couldn't hope to react in time. But then, at the last moment, I was knocked out of the way. I heard nothing but a horrible tearing sound and a pony scream in pain beside me. I looked up from the ground to see my Captain standing over me."

The Sergeant paused and looked at judge Rivenbolt again. This time his eyes were full of regret and apology.

"Captain Star Strider. The pegasi officer in charge of our company. He stood over me holding a severe gash in his side. He had knocked me aside and taken the blow from the Griffin flier himself. I remarked at his injury, but he dismissed me. He said we had to get to the weapons cache and form a defensive line. He grabbed me by the scruff of my jacket and guided me along the side streets, keeping low and out of sight. We found members of our company and others in the garrison along our way. By the time we got to the armory, we were only a few dozen strong. A fraction of our original garrison. Surprisingly in the chaos, the Griffins hadn't taken the armory yet. Or perhaps they failed to find it or scout it out or just didn’t care. Nevertheless, we armed ourselves with our spears, shields, and helmets. We took to the streets again and formed square. Our pike spears diagonal to the skies and our shields shoulder to shoulder." 

Trotwell chose this moment to briefly interrupt the Sergeant. 

"Could you please explain 'forming square' to the court?" As a former Lieutenant General himself, he was more than familiar with the concept, but was concerned that technical military terms could leave the public audience at a loss. 

"Oh of course. Yes sir. 'Forming Square' is a rank formation. Ours was about 3 ponies deep and 5 ponies wide. You stand shoulder to shoulder in this square shape and use your outward facing weapons to make it difficult for flyers or calvary to attack you and break your ranks. And unlike line ranks, it's impossible to be flanked. The only option is to forcibly break the formation straight on with superior numbers…" With that said, the Sergeant just stared blankly forward. He seemed unable or unwilling to continue.

"That's exactly what the Griffins did, didn't they?" Trotwell prodded after a few seconds of silence. Poppyfield reluctantly nodded.

"But we didn't go down so easily. The Griffin light infantry were no match for us. They were fast, but uncoordinated. But there were so many. And they just kept coming. Their talons scratching against our shields. Fur and feathers sticky with blood. We held. Yes, we held. Dealing far more losses to those sky crawlers than we had soldiers to show for it. We did our duty." Poppyfield said directly to Trotwell, his voice both strong and broken at the same time. "We did our duty!" The Sergeant shouted out to the entire courtroom. 

"I believe you." Ollivander replied softly. "I don't believe a single pony in this room doubts your word on that." Trotwell’s eyes scanned the courthouse, practically daring anypony to challenge the Sergeant's word of him and his fellow soldiers. No such straw pony came forward. 

"We moved about slowly through the town square. We were shouting and goading the Griffins to attack us. Trying to keep them off of the civilian population. Trying to give everypony a chance to escape while we kept the attackers at bay. It worked, for a while at least. We thought the worst was over. But then, then the Grenadiers came. Elite shock troopers. Griffins that were armored and had spears similar to ours. That armor made them slower, bulkier, but they packed a much heavier punch.” He paused for a moment, firming up his shoulders. “They formed up in the sky and dove down straight onto our outward facing spears. They took many losses at the front of their assault, but eventually they just brute forced their way through our ranks. One big push and our square was broken. A second push and we were routed. We scrambled down the street in a disorganized retreat. Scattered, the Griffins mercilessly isolated and picked us off one by one. Captain Strider ordered us to take cover in the bakery just a few meters away. Those meters would prove to be an eternity too far for most of us." 

Sergeant Poppyfield paused for a moment to glance at Princess Celestia. She returned his gaze with solemn sincerity. She had seen war herself before and could understand what the Sergeant had been through. It broke her heart to hear such an awful tale of her subjects being massacred. The Sergeant carried on.

"The front door to the bakery was open and lying in the doorway was its owner and operator. The Griffins had apparently gotten him earlier when he failed to retreat into his own shop. Just another step and he would have made it. The same couldn’t be said for my former comrades. It was only the Captain and I made it into that bakery." Poppyfield stopped again. His head was sunk downward towards the stand as he breathed heavily and audibly. Each labored breath a shaky sigh keeping the rhythm of his sorrow. 

"We barricaded the door and the windows. I ripped off the wooden countertop where the cash register sat to use as a barrier. Would you believe, I helped the baker build that countertop? And now I had just ripped it out in one yank to help save my own skin. It’s funny, the captain and I had visited the bakery just that morning. We had coffee and cakes as we chatted and laughed along with the owner. He was so happy that his business was finally expanding. He was going to open another location in Mares Creek. And, in a single moment, his plans and dreams were over. All the plans and dreams of the whole town were shattered and gone. There was nothing left.

"Captain Strider collapsed on the ground. His face was pale and he had lost too much blood. I grabbed what cloths I could and tore his jacket off. The injury was far worse than he had been letting on. I wrapped it up as best I could, but I knew nothing of medicine. I only had my basic field training for dressing and treating battle wounds. I made a bed out of sacks of flour for the Captain to lay down and rest. I don't know how long we were held up in the bakery. It must have been hours. The sun eventually went down. And the screams of the atrocity outside subsided. The Captain asked me if I was scared. I admitted that I was. I didn’t expect to live until sunrise. He told me to not be afraid. He said Celestia would send reinforcements. We'd push the Griffins back out of the town and make them wish they never broke their treaty and crossed the border. I smiled and agreed. I needed something, any kind of hope to hold onto. Captain Strider gave that to me."

Poppyfield removed his cap and rubbed his head with his hooves. He didn't want to go on anymore. He didn't want to finish his story. But he knew he had to. It was one more duty he was required to fulfill as a loyal soldier.

"About another hour passed, maybe I'm not sure. But I went to go change the Captain's wound dressing and discovered that he was dead." The Sergeant could no longer hold back tears. His words became tainted with the sobbing of a broken stallion. 

"I thought he was asleep. I had no idea he had died. Maybe if I had done something sooner I-I don't know. I don't know if it would have made a difference. But he was gone. Everypony I knew was just gone." Poppyfield cried uninhibited as a child now. He buried his face in his hooves as he wailed on the stand. It was difficult for anypony to watch. It was gut wrenching just to hear and witness. 

"Captain Strider died peacefully. His face was calm and docile. He was smiling. He knew that help was on the way. He knew that reinforcements were coming." The Sergeant said through his hooves with his face still buried. 

Rivenbolt closed her eyes as she turned her head away. She knew her own tears weren't too far behind. 

"And how long did it take those reinforcements to arrive?" Trotwell calmly and knowingly asked.

"They never came!" Master Sergeant Poppyfield shouted in anger. He rose up from the stand and pointed directly at Princess Celestia. 

"She left us there to die!"

He screamed his accusation. Celestia gasped. The courtroom erupted into chaos as spectators and officials alike commented and argued over the Sergeant's tale. The Princess looked around the courtroom. Condemnations and accusations rang out from all sides. She could see her reign falling down around her. Her rule as Princess was collapsing in on her, and for at least a moment in time, she couldn’t blame them. 

Trotwell allowed the chatter to carry on for some time. He finally tapped the gavel and calmly requested order. As the courtroom quieted down once again he turned to look at his witness. The Sergeant had sat back down. His hooves covered his head again, quietly sobbing.

"Master Sergeant Poppyfield. Thank you for your testimony today. That will be all." Trotwell nodded affirmatively at the soldier. However, Poppyfield didn't get up. He didn't even move his head from his hooves. Ollivander cleared his throat.

"Sergeant, you are dismissed." Trotwell added, thinking perhaps the Sergeant had not realized his service was fulfilled. With the courtroom quieted again, Poppyfield's crying could be heard clearly once more.

"Baliffs." Trotwell called softly. His face showed some signs of remorse for what he had asked his witness to do. He wanted the current situation to be handled delicately. 

"Please… assist the Sergeant to his hooves and…" Ollivander felt pity for the soldier. "...Escort him back to the infirmary."

A single bailiff walked over to the witness stand. 

"Sir. Whenever you are ready." The bailiff said calmly and patiently. 

Poppyfield slowly looked up at the Bailiff. He glanced around the room, suddenly remembering where he was. All eyes were fixated on him. The Bailiff saluted and quietly stood at attention. Poppyfield gathered his cap and placed it firmly on his head. He stood sharply at attention and saluted the Bailiff back. The two of them walked down the aisle and out of the courtroom in perfect step. 

"For the record." Trotwell began once the witness had left. "Captain Star Strider has been posthumously awarded the medal of honor. The defense he organized did indeed buy time for many civilians and military personnel to escape to Mares Creek." Ollivander turned to look at Rivenbolt. She was still refusing to open her eyes.

"Judge Rivenbolt. Your brother's sacrifice saved lives. You should be honored by his valor. I hope that you will accept and keep the medal on his behalf. You have my deepest condolences. Equestria thanks your brother for his service."

Rivenbolt finally opened her eyes.

"I will accept it." She said solemnly. However, she didn't want to hear it from Trotwell. Her brother's death was fresh. And this was all too convenient and politically expedient for Trotwell. It disgusted her. While she blamed Princess Celestia for his death, she blamed Trotwell for taking advantage of his actions while he was alive for his own personal gain.



"I don't wanna hear anymore." Luster Dawn stared idly at the floor. 

“I know it's a lot to hear, but you must understand the whole story.” Princess Twilight avoided her student’s gaze and stared darkly into the text of the book. Luster looked up sharply.

“It’s so awful. The war, the death, the anguish. I can’t bear it.” Luster shook her head repeatedly as if trying to make the words of the story fly out of her head and memory. 

“I know.” Twilight repeated plainly. She looked Luster square in the eyes and her student gasped. The Princess wasn’t crying, but her expression betrayed the sorrow of a monarch. In her teacher’s eyes she saw the loneliness of power and the burden of rule.

“It was at this same point in the story that I cried. I begged Celestia to stop.” Twilight continued. Her voice dropped to a low tenor. The booming weight of her tone shook Luster to her core. “She warned me that if I didn’t learn from her mistakes, then they would become my mistakes. And, if they became my mistakes, then they would be the last mistakes I made as a Princess of Equestria.” 

Twilight closed her eyes, lost in thought, memories, or the weight of the conversation. Luster Dawn sat in silence for a few moments letting the Princess recollect. Sometimes the past is difficult to comprehend, especially when you weren’t a part of it, only looking through it through the eyes of another. Wondering if you would have done anything different.

“We have to learn from our past, don’t we?” Luster spoke up finally as Twilight opened her eyes. “Even if it hurts.” 

Twilight slowly nodded, coming back to herself. “Indeed. The past can teach us a lot, if we choose to listen.”

Luster breathed a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s get this over with, I guess. I suppose I’ll skip the popcorn this time. Feels kinda inappropriate.” She shrugged her shoulders as she slouched in her seat. If she was gonna be coerced into sitting through a tragic tale, she was gonna sit comfortably.  

“Very good, my little pony.” Twilight smiled softly, even though the pain of the memory of hearing this story for the first time from Celestia still haunted her.

“At least it can’t get any worse, right?” Luster asked hopefully with a pitiful smile on her face. The Princess said nothing as she gently cleared her throat and continued reading.



“We, the ponies of Equestria, call Marshal Rosencolt to the stand.” Trotwell said confidently. A significant amount of murmuring rose up from the courtroom. He deliberately avoided saying “The Court” or “The Prosecution.” Ollivander wanted it to seem like the entire population was against the Princess. 

Rosencolt stood up and unpinned his robe. He slung it over his shoulder and let it fall peacefully on the judge’s bench, revealing his military jacket. His dress coat was well polished and his chest and shoulders were littered in honors. Every inch from his shoulder to his lapel was colored with bright decorative achievements of his rank and accomplishments. A golden honor cord looped under his shoulder.

Scattered shouting could be heard from the ponies in attendance. They called out praises like, “Vive le Général” and “Stallion of Destiny” and “The Terror of Dragons.” Trotwell tolerated the outbursts as the good General calmly stepped down from the judge’s table and walked over to the lead bailiff handing him the robe and wig he was previously wearing. 

“I’ll have my hat.” The General ordered in a calm but firm tone. The Bailiff sharply saluted the General who gently saluted him back, the action almost as natural as breathing. The Bailiff charged out the back of the courtroom as if the outcome of a battle relied on his speed of retrieving it. By the time Rosencolt had taken his seat on the witness stand, the Bailiff returned with the General’s hat. His cap was equally as decorated as his coat. He firmly placed it on his head and looked to Trotwell. 

Ollivander Trotwell struck the gavel and the courtroom quieted down without him even ordering them to do so. 

“Shall I?” Trotwell asked Rosencolt knowingly. The General firmly nodded.

“As a witness to this trial, I hereby recuse myself from duty as a judge.” Rosencolt stated in a manner just as casual as when he said it during their discussions and planning. 

"The court recognizes General Rosencolt's recusal. Thank you for your service." Even though Trotwell was clearly referring to his judicial service, supporters throughout the courtroom revived their cheers at the mention of the General's "service." Trotwell’s choice of word was not a coincidence. He wanted his audience worked up into a frenzy over the popular General. Rosencolt's brilliant leadership during the Great Dragon invasion nearly 25 years ago made him a hero in the public's eye. His command tactics in that conflict led directly to his promotion to Marshal of the 1st Army of Equestria. 

Ollivander lightly tapped his gavel with a sly grin on his face. He needed to make a show of maintaining "order" but didn't want to overly discourage the outbursts. Most ponies would have long ago indulged basking in the celebrity that was afforded the good Marshal. But Rosencolt usually spurned the limelight, only making public appearances and addresses when he truly deemed it necessary. However, he was far from ungrateful or indignant of his supporters. He gazed upon the masses and tipped his cap to them. A subtle and reserved gesture, yet the crowd responded with an uproarious cheer and a subsequent chanting of,

"All hail the dragon slayer!"

Celestia rolled her eyes at the extended outbursts. Many would accuse the Princess of jealousy over the Marshal stealing her thunder, and in a very literal sense at that. However, cooler heads knew Celestia wasn't so vain. She didn't think anypony should be worshiped for their military conquest. No matter how necessary the defense was for Equestria's survival at the time, any glorification of war was obscene in the eyes of Celestia. She certainly wanted to put the events of the great war far behind her.

With the point clearly driven home, Trotwell once again called for order in his usual stern manner. 

"Before these proceedings can continue, we must fulfill Marshal Rosencolt's vacancy on the bench. The court hereby appoints Representative Dewey Mills of Fillydelphia's 3rd district to the position of Judge." This caused a bit of murmuring among the masses. There were many Senators and Nobles who would have made a much more obvious choice for judge in such a high profile case. For the position to fall from the notoriety of the Good Marshal to a relatively obscure lower house representative was somewhat off putting. However, while young, Dewey Mills was popular among his district and region. With Trotwell’s push for more representation for the common pony in government, the decision made sense from an ideological perspective. 

Dewey nervously stood up from his assigned seating amongst the other lower house representatives behind the judge’s bench. A Bailiff met him at the base of the raised judge platform and handed him a folded robe and powdered wig. Dewey started to unravel the robe to dress right out in the open, but the Bailiff quickly directed him to at least go into the back chambers first. Dewey blushed as he suddenly became more aware of his surroundings. He darted into the backroom where Trotwell and his cohorts met in preparation of the trial. A few chuckles were heard at the young representative's unsightly act of nearly changing clothes in front of Equestria’s nobility and ruling classes. It wouldn't have been obscene by any means, but certainly out of place and unbecoming of courtroom decorum. It's true that Rosencolt stripped his robe and wig in full view of the hall. However, his demeanor was so defiantly regal that it came across more theatrical than awkward. A stark reminder that the same rules don't apply equally to all ponies. 

Trotwell waited for Dewey Mills to take his seat by his side before continuing on.

"Judge Dewey Mills," Trotwell proclaimed loudly. Dewey nervously cleared his throat.

"Do you swear to abide by the rules of the court and uphold the laws of Equestria as an arbiter of this trial?" Trotwell raised his right hoof and Dewey did the same. He was about to answer the question when Trotwell added,

"Under penalty of treason, will you uphold the values of peace, prosperity, and progress that have guided Equestria for centuries, to the best of your abilities?" Ollivander’s expression was deadly serious. Dewey was already starting to regret agreeing to the appointment in the first place.

"I… I do…" Dewey Mills replied humbly. To the court audience he probably appeared to be giving this induction its due reverence. In reality, he was shaking in his hooves under the bench. If this trial went south for the prosecution, he would be sentenced right alongside the rest of his co-conspirators. 

All I wanted was better labor conditions for the ponies on my side of town. That's why I ran for office. How did I end up roped into a mess like this? Dewey thought to himself. Looking out at all the ponies in attendance, he fully appreciated the severity of the situation. Everypony, no matter who they supported, looked furious. Nopony was satisfied with the state of the country. Every face he saw looked like they may be out for blood. The only question was, whose blood was it going to be?

"Marshal Rosencolt, General of the 1st Army of Equestria, and Grand Marshal of all Equestrian forces in times of war, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" Trotwell embellished the Marshal’s full title. Once again he specifically left out any mention of Celestia in the court oath. 

"I do, so help me God." Rosencolt stated as a hush went over the crowd. Invoking a deity was not a very common practice in Pony society. Even though the Princess was no God and never claimed to be, there was a certain deification to her status that ponies unconsciously attributed. With the simple act of placing faith in a higher power, Rosencolt had elegantly undermined Celestia’s 500 year status as the savior of Equestria. 

"Marshal," Trotwell began, ready to get down to brass tax. "What do you know of the surprise assault on the river village of Edenborough?"

The Marshal drew in a deep breath. He was eager to speak, yet weary of what he was about to say.

"It was no surprise. The attack was known." 

The reaction from the ponies in attendance was one of near panic. Even those who were privy to the intelligence reports, gawked at hearing it directly from the Marshal. It made the reality of the situation sink in, and the implications of said reality were not good.

"She knew." Could be heard repeated throughout the halls. Along with other cries like:

"She did nothing"

"She let them die"

"Treason!"

As tempted as Trotwell was to let the crowd continue, he did not want his trial to devolve into a riotous frenzy.

"Order!" He shouted as he slammed the gavel once again. The room reluctantly returned to order.

"What do you mean, 'The attack was known?'" Trotwell awaited Rosencolt's reply with bated breath.

"It's complicated." The Marshal sighed. Ollivander grunted under his breath in frustration. He wanted the Marshal to bury the Princess straight away with the most scathing of facts and details. But it was just like Rosencolt to insist on telling the whole story. Celestia and Rosencolt exchanged knowing glances. Even now, he respected her majesty. Celestia knew Rosencolt wouldn't cherry pick facts to make her look bad. However, the confidence on his face meant that he felt the whole truth was damning enough. 

"About a century ago, Edenborough was in Griffin territory. At the time the river ran dry, and the land was empty and desolate. Nothing could be grown and not a single tree had leaves for shade. The hot climate made the area uninhabitable, even if well supplied from outside. So Celestia made a deal with the Griffin King, Great Talon. She offered the Griffins Equestria's surplus grain and hay in exchange for the desert land, as it was no use to them. After terms were met, King Talon scoffed at the deal. He told the Princess he would have given the wretched place to her if she had just asked nicely. The Princess simply smiled. For she knew what her ponies were capable of." 

Trotwell cleared his throat rather loudly.

"Are all these details really necessary?" Ollivander said with a wry look to Rosencolt. Trotwell didn't want the court to hear tales that made Celestia look good. Yet he could hardly order Marshal Rosencolt around publicly. If the General wishes it, he could oust Trotwell with a word and take over the revolution himself. The armies of Equestria would follow the good Marshal into Tartarus if he commanded it. 

Rosencolt continued as if Trotwell never said anything.

"Pegasi meteorologists could change the weather and bring rain along with cooler temperatures. Unicorn mages could alter the landscape and topography to make softer flat lands and gentle hills. Earth pony engineers could build dams and aqueducts to guide the rain water. And that's just what they did. Soon the river was running fresh once more. The lands were tilled and crops were born. The trees regrew their leaves making shade once more. A collective pony collaboration that only Equestria's finest could provide. A testament to our national ingenuity." 

The Equestrian's in attendance cheered at the Marshal’s tale. For a pony who hated public speaking, he was remarkably gifted at it. 

"The ports at Edenborough and Mare's Creek opened and were immediately prosperous trade routes on our northern border. Every nation and creature near and far benefited from the lush riches that our new land provided, including the Griffins. Decades of peace persisted at home and abroad, barring one conflict."

The General’s propensity for understatement was unmatched. The Dragon War of 25 years ago was hardly a simple "conflict." 

"But all good things must come to an end. Two years ago, King Great Talon died. He was succeeded by his son Fierce Talon. A young and impetuous new King. A Griffin who felt the need to prove his quality to his people and to the world. He felt that the land was taken from his people a century ago under false pretenses. He claimed that Equestria underpaid. That we knew the true value of the land and hid it from them. However, as I previously stated, the land was rotten. Griffins could have put in the time and effort to nurture the land as we did, but they did not. We overpaid for wasteland and turned it into a paradise practically overnight. That land is ours and ours alone."

Rosencolt turned to Celestia and nodded.

"When King Fierce Talon formally complained, Princess Celestia told him as much. Then he demanded the territory be given back. This became an international affair for some time. Many nations had an opinion on the matter. Many nations had much to gain from who did or did not control the ports."

The Marshal paused as he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. 

"A week before the assault on Edenborough, Celestia met with King Talon. I was there as well, along with her advisors. The King was there with his entourage and generals. He threatened  Celestia that if she did not surrender the lands back to him, he would attack Edenborough and take it by force."

The Royal Courtroom burst into an uproar once again. Ponies were shouting over each other. Small fights broke out as disagreements over this startling revelation were heated up. Trotwell slammed his gavel and shouted but the room was already beyond his control. It seemed like all hell was breaking loose and a riot was inevitable. Trotwell stood and leaned over the judge’s bench, trying to get a better view of the situation. He was losing control. If a riot turned into open conflict, a civil war may be inevitable. Everything he had worked for up until this point was falling apart. He wanted to restore peace and unity to Equestria not bring about its ruin. If pony fought against pony now, then he was no better than Celestia. In fact, he would be something much worse.

The stallion who started the Civil War. 

"Captain!" Rosencolt's voice shot over the crowd and just managed to make it to the ears of the company Captain at the entrance to the Royal Court. He saluted from afar.

"Captain," Rosencolt repeated. "To arms!" He shouted. The company Captain nodded and exited out the double oak doors at the front. When the doors opened again, scores of soldiers marched through. The regiment that had been waiting in the halls calmly and hurriedly filled the aisles. Heated arguments turned to panic as the ponies in attendance feared for their safety. They knew not the motive or intentions of the soldiers in full armor with swords and spears. Was this to be the first battle of the Civil War? It would hardly be a battle and more like a slaughter.

Celestia’s horn glowed with a wild fiery magic. She was ready to break out of her shackles and defend her ponies. With her power she may very well win the day, but how many would be harmed before she could stop them? She prepared a shielding spell. Perhaps she could put up a barrier between the soldier's and the innocent onlookers. However, the soldier's were scattered all in between the aisles. It was difficult to see them all at once. She would need to be airborne but even then she may not be fast enough. 

Rosencolt looked at the Princess again. She returned his gaze, angry as a parent at their misbehaving child. He raised his hoof and crossed it over his heart as he shook his head. Celestia knew what he was saying. There would be no bloodshed today. She stared at him, a dark harsh judgment in her eyes. Her meaning was clear. If anypony was harmed, she would hold the Marshal personally responsible.

"Hold!" The company Captain's voice cut above the clatter of metal armor and weeping cries of panicked nobility. The Captain looked nervously over to Rosencolt who was still calmly seated in the witness chair. The Marshal placed his hooves together in a prayer-like gesture. 

"Arms at the ready." The Captain stated still loudly but much more subdued than before. Prior to the command, the soldier's held their weapons in all different sorts. Some were pointed at the onlookers in pews. Some were to their side. Some were sheathed and not drawn at all. After the Captain's command, every weapon, sword and spear, was held in the soldier's right hoof. They were tucked into their shoulders and pointed straight up at the ceiling. The collective shift sounded brisk and percussive. The regiment now appeared much more orderly in their symmetry. 

"Order arms." The Captain exclaimed in the same confident tone. The regiment lowered their weapons down to their side instead of in the air. The swift changes looked as sharp as parade form.

"Hold." He said softer than any command so far. 

The room was frozen like a portrait in time. Not a single pony was willing to breathe, much less break the silence. Finally the Captain of the regiment turned to face the Marshal.

“Order’s sir?” The confidence in the Captain’s voice had faded. His white fur was as pure and glowing as Celestia’s. Wings protruded out of his heavy armor. The pegasus Captain was acting way above his pay grade. None of his training or years of service had prepared him to hold his own kind at sword point. 

Rosencolt cleared his throat.

“May I please have everypony’s attention?” He politely asked. In another situation, it would have been comical. Everypony in the courtroom had their eyes glued to the Marshal, waiting to hear their fate. In an agonizingly slow manner, he pulled his pipe and tobacco out of his jacket pocket. The hall was quiet enough to hear him stuff the pipe and light his match clear as a bell. Celestia and Trotwell shot the General a perturbed glance. Smoking in the Canterlot Royal Court was not permitted. Then again, neither was armed insurrection. Nopony bothered to point out the Marshal’s infraction. 

“I understand that the issues being discussed here today are troubling, to say the least. However, violent outburst and fighting is neither appropriate nor necessary. I ask, in the name of friendship, that everypony maintain discipline and order. Everypony in this courtroom is a fine mare and gentlecolt. There is no reason we cannot sort these matters out peacefully. I suggest that each of us set our emotions and personal grievances aside and carry on this case with a modicum of decorum.” Rosencolt took a long and luxurious puff of his rather large cob pipe. He exhaled a puff of smoke so big a pegasus pony could have formed it into a rain cloud. 

“Does everypony find that agreeable?” The Marshal asked. However, the courtroom remained still and quiet. “I said, does everypony find that agreeable?” Rosencolt raised his voice. His brow furrowed like a drill sergeant about to punish his platoon. Reluctantly, the crowd nodded and murmured soft affirmations. Nobility, commoner, and elected officials alike dared not defy the Marshal. 

“Very good.” Rosencolt relaxed in his seat and took another small puff of his pipe. He held it out in his hoof and pointed with it as he spoke. “Since we’re all in agreement, I would like to extend some trust to you all. As a show of good faith. There cannot be an even discussion when one pony has a knife to another pony’s throat.”

Ollivander wondered if the trial could even carry on as it had. Once armed soldiers were involved, could reasonable discussion even be restored? Rosencolt was obviously determined to take control of the situation and there was nothing Trotwell could do to either help nor interfere. 

“Captain, retire the regiment to the barracks.” The Marshal commanded but the Captain hesitated.

“Sir, forgive me, but should we not at least remain in the foyer? Just in case?” The Captain asked, a bit surprised at the order to completely withdraw from such a volatile situation.

“Are you planning to go to battle in the foyer?” Rosencolt asked, annoyed. 

“N… no sir. Of course not sir. But…” The Captain was interrupted by the Marshal.

“Then what need do we have of soldiers? Retire to the barracks at once.” Rosencolt waved his free hoof dismissively as he took another puff of his pipe. The Captain saluted and turned to his stallions in arms.

“Regiment, return your arms.” The Captain called and the soldiers sheathed and stowed their weapons. “Keep ranks and withdraw. Exit out of the center aisle.” In near unison, the regiment turned towards the middle of the courtroom. They calmly exited the aisles they occupied and marched out the front double doors into the foyer. The Captain was the last one out and closed the doors behind him. 

"Have you made your point?" Celestia chided as the sound of the double doors firmly shutting echoed throughout the hall. Her blood was still boiling. Risking the safety of innocent civilians for some macho display of force was not acceptable in her eyes.

"As far as the disturbance is concerned, yes. But as for this trial, I have much more to say." Rosencolt exhaled another puff of smoke into the air. 

"You call that treasonous display of yours a disturbance?" Celestia was nearly shouting as the pipe smoke wafted slightly in her direction. "And put that damn thing out! This is a courtroom, not a lounge." The Princess demanded. Several court members gasped at Princess Celestia blurting out foul language. 

Trotwell felt uneasy. The crises had been averted and civil war delayed. However, Celestia and Rosencolt were fighting for control over the court. He could feel his authority slipping through his grasp. Ironically the head judge now held less power than either the witness or the defendant. Fortunately, Trotwell was neither vain nor impatient. He knew the initiative would come back to him in short order. As powerful as the Marshal was, he didn't want to be the one dictating the change in power. Rosencolt believed wholeheartedly in Ollivander’s dream of a pony republic. Which is why Trotwell was so willing to trust Rosencolt in the first place. 

Trotwell chose to keep silent his gavel and let the Marshal and the Princess duel it out in the courtroom. 

"I have fought many battles for Equestria, but not one against her." Rosencolt replied to the Princess’s accusation.

"Well isn't that just beautiful of you to say? This coming from the stallion whose solution to every problem is battle, weapons, and violence." Celestia scoffed out loud as she finished the word 'violence.' Celestia’s Royal Canterlot Voice pierced the quiet halls.

"Violence indeed." The Marshal replied in a much softer tone. The baritone of his timbre carried his voice well. However, the stark contrast between his and Celestia’s volume was drastic. "This coming from the Princess who would make any concession to avoid a conflict."

"Says the colt who would jump into any conflict to solve his problems. You joined this treasonous revolt just because I told you no!" Celestia spoke down to her most decorated General. Even the likes of Rosencolt was not an equal in her eyes.

"My only regret is that I did not commit treason the day Edenborough was sacked!" The Marshal finally raised his voice back.

"Stop it both of you!" 

Celestia, Rosencolt, Trotwell, and every pony in the room looked to Rivenbolt at her sudden outburst. She was standing up with both her front hooves firmly on the bench as she leaned forward in contempt of the back and forth arguing. 

"Look at you going at it like foals. This is a court of law! Show some restraint. You're worse than my brother and I were growing up." Rivenbolt scolded in an angered yet much more reserved tone than the Marshal or the Princess. Both the witness and the defendant relaxed their posture a little as they settled down from their spat. The mention of the late Captain Strider was sobering for everypony as well. 

Rivenbolt turned to the Marshal, urging him with a gesture to continue. “Rosencolt, you said that King Fierce Talon threatened to take Edenborough by force if Celestia did not surrender it to him. What happened after that?” Rivenbolt spat out like an interrogator. 

“The Princess called his bluff at the meeting.” The Marshal stated plainly. “She told him that he wouldn’t dare. That the consequences of such an attack were more than he was willing to answer for. That if he wanted to make a name for himself by throwing his weight around neighboring kingdoms, he should look elsewhere because Equestria wouldn’t stand for it.”

Rosencolt looked directly at Celestia as if to ask, ‘Did I get anything wrong?’

“After that the young king changed his tune. He offered an apology and smiled rather diplomatically. He said perhaps we could come to some sort of agreement instead. But I saw the look in his eyes. I heard the change in his voice. At that moment, he realized Celestia was the one who was bluffing. Her bravado was false, therefore he resolved to see his attack through.” He paused for a brief moment, putting emphasis on his next words.  “I told the Princess all of this after the meeting. She said I was reading things in the Griffin King that weren’t there. That I was letting my ‘aggressive tendencies’ cloud my judgment. But I know what it looks like when a commander is committed to a fight. The decision to strike is unmistakable when you know what it looks like.” 

Rosencolt stared at Celestia so long it made her uncomfortable. She returned his glare nonetheless. 

“Do you remember what it looks like when a pony makes the decision to kill? I know you’ve seen it before. But you have forgotten.” 

Celestia wanted to argue but the words wouldn’t come to her. Her thoughts turned to her sister Luna and the day she banished her to the moon. She remembered sensing something wrong with Luna on that fateful morning. A change in her that was subtle but unmistakable. Luna had tried to surprise Celestia and attack her from behind, but Celestia had sensed the treachery. She remembered turning to face her sister as the first magical attack was cast. A deadly spell aimed directly for Celestia’s head. She remembered catching it and repelling it with her own magic. She remembered Luna shouting in rage, their opposing beams clashing in front of one another. The only thing she couldn’t remember was the look on Luna’s face in that moment when the battle began. Celestia had blocked it out. The look of murderous intent on her little sister’s face was too much for her to bear. 

“I insisted that we position five battalions of the 1st army outside Edenborough just in case.” Rosencolt continued and Celestia snapped out of the trance of her own memories. “We wouldn’t cross the border for any reason. And I offered to supply the soldiers externally from military stores so we wouldn’t be a burden on the town’s resources.”

Rosencolt sighed as the smoldering ash from his pipe gently billowed into the air. 

“But you said a show of force near the border would provoke the Griffins. Even though an attack had literally been threatened by their king, you still were more concerned with appearances.” 

“I didn’t believe he would go through with it.” Celestia finally replied.

“Of course you didn’t. You’re not so callous as to let your ponies suffer and die. Nonetheless, you were wrong.” The Marshal declared.

“You have the benefit of hindsight.” The Princess argued. 

“I had the benefit of foresight. You didn’t believe me.” Rosencolt rebutted. 

“Then I am on trial for being wrong?” Celestia exclaimed, somewhat exacerbated. “What will you do with the next ruler? Will you hang them the first time they are wrong?”

“Take a look around, Princess. Take stock of your Kingdom. Do you not see the state of decline we are in, even before this attack?” The Marshal threw his hooves in the air in frustration. “There is a grain shortage. Every year for nearly a decade our crops have produced a deficit and we have to borrow from neighboring lands. Yet you won’t allow the newspapers to print the word famine.”

“We don’t need a national panic. The crops will recover.” Celestia calmly dismissed the shortage.

“You swore you would not censor the press, and yet you did anyway. The grain shortage has led to the value of the Equestrian Bit to drop. Our money is worth less and our exports are not enough to cover the gap. We are heading for a depression, Princess.” Rosencolt pleaded with the Princess.

“Your fear mongering is unnecessary. Economies rise and fall. Ours will return to order in due time.” Celestia had held these conversations with her advisors behind closed doors. She grew weary of the same shortsighted arguments over and over again.

“When exactly, my dear Princess, is ‘due time?’” Rosencolt demanded. 

Celestia hesitated for a moment. Nopony had particularly asked it that way or quite so directly before.

“Your life span is long, Princess. We live and die, and you persist. Then our descendants live and die, and you persist. Our short lives may not be much to you but it’s all we have. What happens when our ‘due time’ is up before things return to order? I respect your age, your wisdom, your strength, and even your love for us and your desire for friendship. But you have lost touch with us. When we ask for solutions and answers now, not later, we are not being impatient or impertinent. We are being practical. What good is it to us if Equestria recovers in 100 years if we have to suffer through depression and famine to get there? I understand nopony is your equal. You are alone in that regard. You cannot relate to your fellow pony, but neither can we relate to you. You love us, yes, but you no longer represent us. And that is why we need change!” 

Rosencolt’s impassioned words reverberated in the Royal Court House as the final smoldering embers in his pipe ran out. Celestia, struck by the Marshal’s words, could only look down at the floor. Never since Luna, had she felt so cast aside by one of her own.

“Is that truly how you feel, Rosencolt?” Celestia said barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” He replied, feeling the weight of his words himself. "And it's not just me, Princess."

Celestia's eyes scanned the courthouse. A room once divided was now united by one common truth: the ponies of Equestria were unsatisfied with the status quo. Even her most staunch supporters echoed this sentiment with their sober expressions. Celestia’s gaze moved to the empty Upper House seats. To her, this whole trial had been wrong from the beginning, but she could no longer ignore the concerns of her citizens. One way or another, change was necessary. Rosencolt helped make that abundantly clear. 

“Recall the House of Lords.” Celestia said abruptly. “I will submit to a proper trial with relevant and appropriate charges. If it is the will of Equestria that I step down, so be it. However, I will only abdicate if all appropriate government officials are involved.”

The court house was stunned. Celestia had offered the usurpers what they had wanted all along. The Upper House had only blocked the trial because they felt Celestia’s authority was required. Now the Princess authorized her own deposition. Rosencolt slowly nodded with a soft yet somber smile.

"Your highness, I find your proposal…" Rosencolt began, but was cut off by an enraged Trotwell.

"Unacceptable!" Trotwell’s face was beat red. A pulsing vein throbbed on the side of his forehead. 

"This is the proper trial. You already submitted to the authority of the court. And now you will abide by its rulings." Trotwell slammed the gavel in a tantrum tizzy. 

"I agreed to hear you out. Which I’ve done. Now, we can carry on with this the legal way." Celestia rebutted. She knew exactly how to phrase it to set Trotwell off. It was his turn to be slighted for once.

"This is the legal way!" Trotwell pointed his gavel at the Princess. "You pled to the charges and acknowledged the court's legality. You cannot change your mind now because it doesn't suit you."

"That shade of red on your cheek doesn't suit you." Celestia quickly retorted, which only made Trotwell’s already reddened face turn nearly purplish in silent rage. 

"Ollivander, I think we should accept the Princess’s proposal." Rosencolt glared up at Trotwell. 

Trotwell whipped his angry gaze down to the Marshal, "Need I remind you that you are no longer a judge on this tribunal but a witness? And speaking of which, witness, you are dismissed." Trotwell waved his hoof in a dismissive fashion. Now that Rosencolt had retired his forces from the foyer, he lacked the tools of enforcement to defy Trotwell.

Rosencolt paused for a second before calmly putting his tobacco pipe away, adjusting his hat, and standing up looking absolutely unaffected by Trotwell’s words. He saluted the Princess, and turned to face Trotwell once again.

"Good luck with your coup. And good luck enforcing your ruling. I'll have no part of it." With his back straight and head held high, the good Marshal slowly and collectedly walked his way towards the front double doors of the courthouse. Earning several nods and half smiles from the attendees.

Trotwell drew in a breath and opened his mouth to loudly address the courtroom. However, he found himself interrupted.

"Well, I am a judge on this tribunal and I think we should at least consider Celestia’s offer." Rivenbolt spoke up. 

Trotwell deflated a bit. "Am I the only pony who seems to remember that the Princess is, in fact, the one on trial? She is not permitted to make the rules." Trotwell collected himself. Losing his temper again would do him no favors. 

"She may be a prisoner on trial, but as Princess she still has authority as monarch. This court cannot change that." Rivenbolt argued. 

Trotwell froze up for a moment. A stark realization came over him which left him lost in thought. A visible chink in his mental armor. Although, the quick-witted stallion easily regained his demeanor. Once again his temperament was smooth, calculating, and he beheld a smirk on his face.

"You're right, Judge Rivenbolt. Today has been an eventful day, to say the least. We shall adjourn until tomorrow. At which time, we will discuss the Princess’s proposal further." Trotwell hit his gavel and the trial adjourned for the day. Ponies were slow to get up from their seats. Most were still hungover from the emotional fallout. Some were traumatized from the earlier danger of being held at sword point. Even though the courtroom was filled with Nobles and elites from Equestria's government and high society, nopony complained very much outloud. The stakes were too high and even the spoiled rich knew that this was bigger than themselves. 
> Part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trotwell and his wary cohorts met once again in the backroom chambers. Although Rosencolt was conspicuously absent. 

"Dewey, you're the whip of the lower house. Do we still have the votes we need to depose Celestia?" Trotwell demanded. His attitude was much more fierce than the calm and reasonable facade he put on at the end of the trial day. 

Dewey was about to answer when the door to the judge’s chamber ripped open. There stood Marshal Rosencolt. His shoulders square and eyes forward like a model soldier. Everypony snapped their heads to face him and stared at him rather anxiously. It was difficult to discern if this was a friendly meeting, or if he had soldiers waiting behind him and they were all heading for the dungeon. For all they knew, the Marshal had come to an agreement with the Princess and their takeover was thwarted. Trotwell and Rosencolt stared at each other for a long time. Their matching expressions were cold and neutral. Both of them appeared to be calculating their next move like expert tacticians or grandmasters playing a game at the highest level. 

“For the republic.” Rosencolt finally spoke with a knowing grin. Trotwell laughed out loud. Everypony could hear the relief in his voice, though he would never admit it. 

“I thought you’d have nothing to do with it?” Ollivander remarked dryly.

“I thought you had lost your mind.” Rosencolt retorted. He quietly took his seat at the table. "That being said, I need you to explain your reasoning to me." The Marshal sat with elbows on the table, supporting his chin with his hooves. 

"My reasoning for what exactly?" Trotwell asked.

"You know exactly what I'm referring to. Why aren't you taking the Princess up on her offer? A full trial with the Upper House is what we wanted from the beginning. This trial may work, but there can be no legitimacy arguments if we bring back the Upper House. It's a stronger position." Rosencolt reasoned. 

"It's a greedy position." Trotwell countered. "We have enough legitimacy as it is. Celestia gave us that when she pled to the charges." 

"Including the murder charge? Nopony is gonna to buy a murder charge on the Princess." Rosencolt cocked his eyebrow.

"We don't need the murder charge to stick. Hell, we don't need any of the charges. Not even treason. We only need the deposition to go through and everypony to accept it." Trotwell rubbed his forehead. The stress of the trial weighed on him greatly. He still needed to play this one close to his chest. 

"So you'll vote with only the Lower House again? If I were a Celestia supporter, I would challenge the legitimacy of such a vote immediately." Rosencolt looked around the room. Nopony had any assurance on their face whatsoever. 

"Celestia's popularity is at an all time low. We have to strike while the iron is hot. If we delay for a full Senate trial, she may gain her sympathizers back. She's playing the humility card right now. The more she lowers herself, the higher her approval rate soars. Every time she admits wrong, the crowd eats it up and gives her more leeway.” He shook his head. “We may win the full trial, but we may very well lose if she has more time to prepare a defense. If we depose her tomorrow, she's no longer a Princess and we can establish the republic with or without a conviction or sentencing. Then her supporters can challenge the legitimacy but it will be with the momentum in our favor. It will be on them to undo the vote, undo the republic, and reinstate the Princess. However, most ponies will prefer to move on at that point. They won't want to continue rocking the boat, as it were. They will crave normalcy and stability, and the Republic will be the easiest path to do so at that point." Trotwell laid it all out on the line, catching and holding every gaze in the room. 

"I see." Was all Rosencolt had to say in response.

"Mills, do we have the votes or not?" Trotwell turned to him as he demanded. 

"I…" Dewey hesitated as he glanced wildly around the room. All eyes were on him except Rivenbolt who looked away.

"Yes." He finally admitted. "We do. By a landslide."

"Then let's get to it." Trotwell slammed the table in triumph. Rivenbolt flinched at the noise. "The Great Pony Republic commences tomorrow!" He said confidently. 

"All of you are insane!" Rivenbolt cried out. Everypony turned to look at her.

"None of this is what we wanted. It's not about who's in power, it's about what is best for Equestria. Celestia has agreed to what we asked for. You are the one who is greedy, Trotwell." Rivenbolt pointed directly at Trotwell. "What happened to you? To all of you? Have you no honor? Have you no shame?"

Nopony spoke up in agreement with Rivenbolt, nor in the defense of Trotwell. He glared at her. His expression darkened. He wanted to argue back. He wanted to unleash his fury and declare her a traitor to his cause. However, all he said was,

"The future of Equestria begins tomorrow. If you want to remain stuck in the past, Rivenbolt, be my guest." Without hearing another word, Trotwell got up and exited the room. He knew better than to let his emotions get the better of him in such close quarters. Not when victory was so close in sight. He slammed the chamber door shut behind him, relishing in the loud and satisfying noise. To the ponies still within the room, the harsh sound reverberated in the tiny room and lingered for a few seconds, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. 

Rivenbolt stared long and hard at the closed door. Disgusted by Trotwell’s parting words, she broke the silence by tossing a gold medallion with a red ribbon onto the table. It clambered to a clumsy halt in a heap in the dead center of the table.

"Your brother's medal of honor?" Rosencolt looked surprised, but not as perturbed as a general normally would seeing the highest military honor being treated so poorly.

"It was awarded by a corrupt regime and means nothing to me." Rivenbolt stood up. She stretched her wings out to their full span and then whipped them back into place. It was a stretching exercise to keep pegasi wings loose and flight ready at all times. A practice she probably picked up from her brother as such an exercise was usually only practiced by soldiers and other professional flyers. 

"If you vote to depose without a fair trial, you're all no better than Celestia. In fact, you're something much worse. A bunch of power hungry savages who will stop at nothing to get what they want. At least Celestia believed in something more than power." Rivenbolt looked directly at Dewey as she spoke. "Friendship means something to ponies. At least it used to. But I guess we've forgotten that." Rivenbolt exited out the door just like Trotwell. Except she let the door close gently behind her. 

Slowly all the members of Trotwell’s inner circle got up and exited the room as well. Only Rosencolt and Dewey stayed behind. Both of them lost in thought looking at the abandoned medal of honor sitting on the table.

"What should I do?" Dewey finally said.

"Your duty." Rosencolt replied simply.

"I can't change the votes now, even if I wanted to. Everypony is behind Trotwell. And how couldn’t they be? Everypony is terrified to defy that guy. If I go against him…" Dewey stumbled,  but Rosencolt cut him off.

"He'll expose your expunged record and ruin your career." Rosencolt remained casual.

Dewey cowered slightly at how easily the Marshal had read him. "Hey, it may not be as big as losing a war or anything but my…" Dewey started, but the Marshal interrupted again.

"I do not take your career lightly. You've worked hard to get it." Rosencolt's eyes remained locked on the discarded medal. 

"Are you for or against the vote?" Dewey asked.

"I'm for Equestria." Rosencolt said confidently.

"Are you always this helpful?" Dewey asked, somewhat irritated. 

"When the Dragon army had Canterlot under siege, the Dragon Lord made an offer to us: surrender and receive amnesty, or resist and receive death. We chose death, and in doing so, we saved Equestria and lived to fight another day." Rosencolt looked directly at Dewey for the first time in the meeting. 

"Ok, well done, but this is a completely different situation. There's no clear 'bad guy' or enemy to fight. And I don't have an army that will follow me into combat." Dewey responded a bit perplexed. 

"Don't you?" Rosencolt raised an eyebrow and grinned. Dewey couldn't think of anything to say in response so the Marshal stood up and walked to the door.

"I don't envy your position." Was the last thing Rosencolt said before exiting, leaving Dewey alone in the judge's chamber. 



****



The 4th and final day of the trial began with hopeful optimism. Most ponies in the court audience assumed the court would come to some kind of agreement with Celestia’s offer from the day before. Especially after Trotwell’s softening on it at the end of the previous day. What they didn't expect was the ever determined Ollivander Trotwell to pounce on the court from minute one. He glared out into the courtroom. His determined gaze scanned the posh and influential public in attendance. Finally landing on the bound and chained Princess directly in front and below him. 

"Before this trial can continue, we must address the Alicorn in the room." Trotwell muttered mischievously. "As Princess, and therefore sole executive monarch, this court cannot ignore her privilege nor authority as such." 

Trotwell glanced at the empty seat on his left where Rivenbolt sat the previous three days. As if on cue, the courtroom doors opened. And, to his utter surprise, Rivenbolt came marching down the center aisle towards the hearing area. Seeing that it was Judge Rivenbolt, the Bailiffs immediately allowed her to pass into the main area. She wasn't wearing her judge’s wig or robe, and didn't approach the bench to take her seat. Instead, she sat down next to the Princess. Together, they now shared the defendant bench.

"Riven?" Celestia asked somewhat confused. 

"If the Princess is to go to prison today, then so will I." Rivenbolt turned to face her Princess. "I'm sorry, my Princess. Please forgive me." She pleaded to Celestia. 

The Princess smiled back at her and nodded her head.

"Thank you." Was all Celestia replied as she glared defiantly at Trotwell.

Trotwell diffused the situation with a light tapping of his gavel. Not wanting to give either of them the satisfaction of their kindhearted moment. "We seem to be short a judge once again." Trotwell’s eyes found Rosencolt sitting studiously in the first row. "The court hereby appoints Marshal Rosencolt to the role of judge, once again." He pointed his gavel at the General. 

However, Rosencolt merely shook his head and remained seated. 

Celestia laughed out loud.

"Ha, he has more sense than to sit next to you again." The Princess chided, and Trotwell let his anger slip onto his expression. 

Dewey Mills was starting to feel a bit foolish. He was now the only "judge" in the courtroom actually wearing a robe and wig. One by one, customs and traditions were falling by the wayside. 

"Blast!" Trotwell shouted rather unprofessionally. "Fine. Then on to business it is. In order to properly conduct the trial of a monarch, she must first be removed of her royal privilege. I move that parliament vote to depose the Princess at once!" Trotwell slammed his gavel down to the collective gasp of most of the ponies in attendance, including Celestia. 

"You haven't the authority!" Celestia shouted.

"How many times need I remind you, Princess? You gave this court the authority. And you will abide by its ruling and the ruling of Parliament." 

"Without the Upper House there is no quorum." The Princess argued.

"The Upper House was duly expelled due to inaction during a time of crises. As is law by Equestria's parliamentary legal code in the Luna rulings of 6 C.E." Trotwell smugly replied.

"This is madness. You're a criminal!" Celestia pointed accusingly at Trotwell. 

"Says the criminal." Trotwell coldly commented. 

Celestia turned to look at Rivenbolt. The shock on the Princess’s face begging the question, "Did you know he was going to do this?" 

Rivenbolt's somber and worn out expression answered a solemn "yes." It didn't sour their reunion by any means, but it certainly gave context to just how far things had gone. Trotwell was a loose cannon that even his own allies could no longer predict or control. 

Rallying the room, Trotwell called to begin the vote.

"Parliament, we'll go by District. On the motion to depose Princess Celestia as monarch of Equestria, yay or neigh." Trotwell began calling out representatives one at a time as each member cast their vote verbally in the courtroom. 

The voting proceeded just as Dewey had reported. The votes were overwhelmingly in favor of deposing the Princess. A few dozen votes in, and the writing was already on the wall. 

Celestia stared down at her shackled hooves. The last few days of the trial had been horrendous, but it was now that she felt truly despondent. Her ponies didn't want her anymore. She was unwelcome in her own homeland. What would she do now? Would she travel? Be a vagabond? Would she linger in Equestria to be balked at and whispered about as she passed by? She was easily the most conspicuous pony in Equestria, there was no chance of blending in. How would she move on from the shame of being deposed? An ancient, wise, and infinite ruler reduced to a laughing stock. A parody of her former self. She could impose her will and force back control of the government, but at what cost? A single pony’s death from civil war wouldn't be worth restoring power. At least, not to her. Her thoughts turned to Edenborough and the forewarning of the attack. Had she gone too soft? Was her blindness a liability to her own kind now? Perhaps they were right to depose her. An entire village wiped from the map. One pony’s death was too many, yet she could live with so many dying from her inaction? No. She wouldn't fight it. Whatever happened next, she would have to accept it. Perhaps one day, when the time was right, she would return. However, right now, in this moment, as the votes tallied against her, the pain was too sharp. It stung as hard as banishing her own sister. Only now she was the nightmare that must be sent away. 

It was Rosencolt's words that echoed the loudest in her mind. "You don't represent us." Had she really lost touch with everypony? She thought her young subjects were short sighted and anxious because they could not see the bigger picture as she could. When in reality she looked so far forward that she had ignored the struggles and problems right in front of her. The problems that her subjects bore the brunt of the consequences for, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. Edenborough wasn't her only sin, it was just a symptom of what she had become. A damning example of the results of her inaction. 

Rivenbolt watched as tears gently poured down Celestia’s cheek. Despite all the time she had spent by the Princess’s side, this was the first time she had ever seen her cry. She wanted to reach out with her hoof and comfort her, but felt that she didn't have the right. She had worked so long and hard to bring about this result. This was the final outcome she had helped Trotwell accomplish. Now the fruits of her labor had come to fruition, and it tasted foul. 

"Dewey Mills of Fillydelphia's 3rd district." Trotwell called the young judge's name. Even though he sat on the bench, he still had a vote as a representative. 

Dewey looked soberly at his hoof. In it he held Captain Star Strider's medal of honor. The one Rivenbolt had abandoned yesterday. He gripped it tightly as he stood up to cast his vote. His robe and wig laid sloppy on his head and shoulders, like a child wearing a Nightmare Night costume. His heart was pounding as he felt the sweat building up on his back. 

"I have something to say." Dewey stated, looking over at Trotwell.

"We need your vote, not a speech, representative Mills." Trotwell spat back, annoyed. 

"It's important." Dewey insisted, but Trotwell was having none of it.

"We don't have time for such things. If you want to abstain, you are free to do so." Trotwell ordered.

"I do not abstain. And you're gonna hear what I gotta say and like it." Dewey didn't know where he was pulling this bravado from. However, he knew if he didn’t say what was on his mind today, he would regret it for the rest of his life. 

"What did you say to me?" Trotwell craned his neck to look up at Dewey where he stood next to the seated head judge. Dewey could see the bald spot on the back of Ollivander’s scalp. Trotwell's expression was livid and bright red.

"I grew up on the south side of Fillydelphia. Things weren't always so great in my neck of the woods. Work and living conditions were some of the worst in all of Equestria. It was hard, but we got through it together, as one community. As I grew up, I started getting ideas about fixing up our side of town. Somepony suggested that if I was so smart, I should run for office. So heck, I signed up and ran for office against a guy who was supposed to beat me in a landslide. The campaign was hard, but I won. I guess I wasn't the only pony in South Filly who wanted change. I worked to get our concerns heard in Parliament. I was told I had no seniority and that I had to wait my turn. I needed to get in with the right ponies. It was hard, but I got our voice to be heard. We brought changes to South Filly. Well, today the game is the same, but the scope is much bigger. Now we gotta do what we can to make things better for all of Equestria. And if we're gonna do it, it's gotta be the hard way. But more importantly, it's gotta be the right way. Right now, it seems like the best idea anypony's got is to ditch our Princess and blame all our problems on her. Well I say that's the easy way. I don't know what the future may hold. And I'm not smart enough to have the answers for fixing our problems. But whatever we do, we'll do it together, as one community, one Equestria. We'll do it the hard way. But more importantly. We'll do it the right way."

Dewey looked down at Princess Celestia. Even in her chains, she was still the brightest image of royalty and magic. He believed in her. In turn, she returned his gaze probably for the first time. Dewey was one of the many ponies that had become invisible to her. She had ignored the needs of ponies like him for too long.

They shared a knowing smile. 

Dewey raised his head high. "On the vote to depose Princess Celestia: I vote neigh." Dewey looked directly at Trotwell as he said it. "That's all I have to say. On with the next vote." Dewey waved his hoof dismissively as he sat down.

"Dewey," Trotwell began, seething through his teeth. "You… you traitor!" He spat as the vein on his forehead pulsed. 

"Oh what are you gonna do? Fire another judge? Get on with the vote already." Now that Dewey had thrown caution to the wind, his confidence was through the roof. Although his heart was still pounding.

Trotwell carried on with the vote. Name after name he called, asking for their vote. However, Dewey had underestimated his influence on the voters. The house whip had just openly defied the party vote. 

One by one the representatives fell in line. The neigh votes came in one after another. With each vote cast, Trotwell’s face grew paler. When the final vote was cast, Trotwell gently laid his gavel down and said,

"52 yay to 198 neigh. The vote fails." He uttered barely above a whisper as he ran his hooves through his wavy hair. He looked out into the courtroom where everypony could see it was over. Everypony was seconds away from leaping to their feet and applauding. 

Trotwell was finished. His gambit had backfired. Instead of disgracing the Princess by dethroning her, he had instead obliterated the authority of his own court. He could convict Celestia of blowing up the sun, it wouldn't matter. Nopony would take any ruling from this trial seriously anymore. 

"We're adjourned." Trotwell could barely speak the words. His anger was gone. All that was left was the crushing defeat of his failure. He couldn't bring himself to blame anypony but himself. He had flown too close to the sun and gotten burned. A sun that was raised everyday by Equestria’s sovereign Princess. 

Dewey, Rivenbolt, and Rosencolt had tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen. He hadn't even fully taken over the government and he had already made the same mistakes he accused Celestia of making.

The Bailiff stepped forward and removed Celesia’s cuffs and chains. And the Princess stood up to her full height without their weight.

Ollivander looked up at the Princess and, for once, there was no malice or anger in his eyes. "Princess, I ask that you only punish me, and me alone. Everything was my doing, my planning, and my treason. Rivenbolt, Rosencolt, Dewey, and everypony else are clean in this regard. I ask that you let me take full responsibility." 

Celestia glared back at Trotwell for a long time. The dead air in the courtroom grew stale as the two main players of this power struggle locked eyes for what felt like an eternity to everypony else in the room.

"Nopony is going to prison." Celestia finally said although her expression had not yet softened. "As tempted as I am to throw you in the dungeon myself and melt the key, well…" She looked directly at Dewey Mills

"That would be the easy way." Celestia smiled at the young representative and he returned it, although a little bashful. 

"I know I have made many errors in my time as ruler. Not the least of them have been suffered by this generation. It is clear to me now that nopony is fit to rule a kingdom such as Equestria alone. I am proud to remain your Princess, my little ponies, but I cannot do this alone. I need help. And I need to listen." Celestia reached over and gently grabbed Rivenbolt's hoof. The former judge accepted and squeezed back. She looked up at her Princess and smiled softly. Her pain wasn't gone. The loss of her brother in Edenborough was still fresh in her mind, but the healing was starting. 

"Ollivander Trotwell!" Celestia called his name like a school teacher does to a misbehaving student. Perhaps some habits were too hard to break. Trotwell sat quietly and gave her his undivided attention. He was willing to go to prison for his cause and was instead caught blindsided by amnesty. An amnesty he would not have given in return, and for that he felt ashamed. 

"Will you help me forge a new Equestria from the fires of this conflict?" The Princess asked him.

"You would accept my help? After everything I've done?" Trotwell responded, a little bit confused.

"I heard you had an idea for a pony Republic. Please tell me about it." Celestia requested. 

Trotwell cleared his throat. For the first time in four days, he was a bit shy about speaking in public. 

"Well, perhaps not a full republic, but rather a constitutionally limited monarchy." Trotwell countered. Perhaps compromising wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. 

And so the Rebellion of 481 ended. Not a drop of blood was shed nor a single sentence carried out. Yet the ripple effects of this conflict was sure to shape Equestria for generations to come. Never again would a single monarch be responsible for all pony affairs alone. The burden would be shared by many. The collaborative effort of each generation would work to make Equestria greater for the next. The magic of friendship would prevail over all those who would bring discord and strife. It didn't matter if such strife came from within or from without. Friendship ruled Equestria. 



Twilight Sparkle looked up from the book as she closed it shut.

"The end." She said with a smile. "Well, what did you think?" The Princess asked her young student.

"I dunno, kinda anti-climactic, don't ya think?" Luster Dawn was reclined in a lounge position which was impressive considering the limitations of the chair she was sitting in. 

"Seriously?" Twilight asked with annoyance written all over her face.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding it was nice." Luster backed off. "It certainly wasn't what I expected." 

"Me neither." Twilight shook her head. "But the constitution and government they formed is still the very same one we live with to this day. The same laws and limitations that Celestia was bound by, I am as well. So I guess the short answer to your question is, no, a Princess cannot simply do whatever she wants." 

"So I gathered. Although, you know, you could have just said that." Luster Dawn cheekily chided. Twilight narrowed her eyes and glared at Luster. 

"But, what I want to know is what happened at Edenborough? What about the Griffins?" Luster added enthusiastically. 

"Celestia told me that she and Marshal Rosencolt went to have another meeting with the Griffin King." Twilight looked lost in memory as she recalled. "She told the King, Fierce Talon, that if he didn’t leave the city at once and pay reparations to Equestria, she would lead the army into battle herself to take it back. And she wouldn't stop at the border."

"Woah! Now that's a change in attitude." Luster remarked. 

"Yep, Celestia said Rosencolt just stood there with his mouth gaped open. He couldn't believe what he heard. Although later Rosencolt denied that his mouth hung open." Twilight giggled at the thought. 

"What did the Griffin King do? Was there another fight?" Luster asked. Twilight shook her head.

"Nope. The Griffin King panicked. He dropped to the floor and begged Celestia for forgiveness. The border returned to where it was and the Griffins paid a handsome amount for starting the conflict. So much, in fact, it helped restimulate the struggling Equestrian economy.” 

"Wow so Celestia took care of two birds with one Griffinstone." Luster smiled deviously at her own pun. 

"Har, har." Twilight rolled her eyes. She was gonna make a sarcastic reply, but Luster's face looked troubled. "What's wrong?" The Princess asked.

"Nothing, it's just, well…" Luster wasn't sure how to word what she was feeling. "I mean the book says friendship won in the end, but how can it? How can ponies just go back to being friends after a rift that big?" Luster sighed. Twilight simply smiled.

"Here look at the book." Twilight handed Luster the book and she read the front cover out loud.

"Ollivander Trotwell and the Rebellion of 481. A tale of perseverance and friendship by Rivenbolt." Luster Dawn gasped at the author. "Wait, Rivenbolt wrote this?"

Twilight nodded.

"Yes. And everypony involved gave their perspective so that she could write their point of view. Healing Equestria and teaching future generations reunited them in friendship." The Princess added.

"That's why you like this book so much. That's why Celestia wanted you to hear it." Luster replied. 

Twilight nodded. She wondered if it was, perhaps, too soon. She wasn't sure if Luster Dawn was prepared to deal with the weight of what her role would be for Equestria. Twilight prepared herself for Luster to ask the hard questions. 

“Do I still have to give an oral presentation on Popular Sovereignty?” Luster asked with a disgusted look on her face.

“Not if you answer one question.” Twilight responded. Luster Dawn groaned. 

“Another pop quiz?” Luster complained as she rubbed her forehead with her hoof. Twilight giggled as she nodded.

“What is the point of being a Princess?” The Princess asked her star student. 

Luster thought about the question for a moment.

“It’s to make sure that, no matter what happens, friendship carries on.” Luster responded. She was uncharacteristically sincere in her answer. 

“Why is friendship so important?” Twilight followed up.

“I thought it was supposed to be only one question?” Luster asked in her usual sarcastic tone. Twilight narrowed her gaze.

“Boy I sure do love long, dry, boring, oral presentations.” Twilight fired back.

“Ok, ok I’ll answer.” Luster put up her hooves in surrender. “It’s important because it doesn’t really matter what the exact structure of a government or society is. If it’s based on friendship and equal representation, it’s likely to succeed.” She reasoned. 

“Very well said, my faithful student. You pass.” Twilight said, beaming with pride. “Well, I think that’s sufficient for today.” She turned to leave the study room.

“Wait, Princess, there’s one more thing I wanted to ask about.” Luster called out to her teacher. 

This was it. The moment Twilight had been waiting for. It was finally time to discuss the future. Time to confront the destiny that awaited her young protégé, just as she once did with Celestia years ago.

“Yes, Luster Dawn, what is it?” The Princess asked with much anticipation. 

“Did Rivenbolt ever get her brother’s medal back from Dewey? Seems like something you’d wanna have back now that everything was hunky dory.” Luster casually inquired. 

Twilight smiled brightly. Either Luster hadn’t put the pieces together yet, or she wasn’t ready to face it. 

“Yes, she got the medal back.” The Princess answered. 

Twilight knew she would need to be patient. Which was completely fine with her. After all, as Princess, she knew that everything would eventually come together in due time. 



The End