Night Lord in Equestria part 13

>"…And I’M saying this isn’t a good idea!” Twilight responds to Spike, growing agitated at his stubbornness.

>”What is not a good idea?” You ask, crossing the threshold of Twilight’s home.

>All six pairs of eyes turn to you.

>Spike sits in the middle of the 5 ponies, looking cross.

>”The girls don’t think it’s a good idea to let you train me,” Spike responds, agitated.

>”You said you’d take our Spikey-wikey away from us!” Rarity says, wrapping her hooves around Spike defensively.

>Spike seems to freeze at her touch.

>”Rarity said tha training would kill him,” Applejack intones, further defending Spike.

>”I never said that, Applejack. I said that if I train him, there will be some days that he will pray to die, it will be so tough.”

>”Oh. Rarity, you’ve gotta learn ta listen when people talk, not just pick out the words ya want tah hear,” Applejack directs toward the white unicorn who rolls her eyes in response.

>”And you don’t think pushing an eleven year old dragon like Spike that hard is a bad idea?” Twilight questions.

>”He is the one who asked to be trained, Twilight. If he wanted to be a peerless warrior, I would need to push him so hard.”

>”Define ‘push him hard’,” Twilight asks, angry emotion eating at her patience.

>”Twelve hours training per day, bones bare minimum. Long distance marching, melee weapon and firearms training, combat tactics study, battle simulations, basic medical training, and many other such areas of instruction.” You state impassively.

>”Well, when’s are you guys going to have time to party and play with us?” Pinkie asks.

>”It’s likely we’ll leave town and travel around, Pinkie. I doubt you’d see either of us for months. Maybe even years.”

>”What?! Don’t go! I can’t play with you guys if you’re out of town!” She pleads, putting her hooves on your chest and looking up at you with a quivering lip and watery eyes.

>Your heart borders on bursting from… You lack the appropriate adjective for it.

>”Don’t you think that’s all a bit… extreme?” Fluttershy says meekly, finally entering the conversation.

>You turn towards Fluttershy, trying to ignore Pinkie’s attempt to change your mind.

>”Not at all. I had to go through infinitely more harrowing and painful training when I was his age. Besides, I’m sure Celestia and Luna’s royal guard are pushed far harder than what I plan on putting Spike through. Should he still wish to be trained, that is.” No emotion paints your voice, as you turn your gaze to Spike.

>He manages to shrug his shoulders, seeing as Rarity has released him from her paralytic embrace.

>”Speaking of Celestia, she’s the one who had Spike be my assistant. If he went off with you, he’d kind of be disobeying her orders. Spike doesn’t really have a say in the matter,” Twilight states with added finality.

>”Then perhaps we should take this up with your mentor,” you state flatly.

>”Yeah, we should,” Twilight turns from you, grabbing a roll of creamy parchment from across the room with her magic. “Celestia’s never gonna let you take Spike away from us…” she mutters under her breath.

>A belch of green fire pulls all your attentions back to Spike, who now holds a wax sealed scroll in his hands.

>”Wow, that was fast! Didn’t even have to send a letter, Twilight!” Pinkie pipes up.

>It’s Twilight’s turn to roll her eyes as the letter drifts toward her, enveloped in a purple haze.

>”Well? What’s it say?” Applejack inquires.

>Twilight does not respond for several moments, the expression on her face growing more confused and alarmed with each passing second.

>”Well?” you ask, not enjoying ignorance.

>A purple aura envelops you all and the purple mare hurriedly states, “No time! Have to get to Canterlot!”

>Not again…

 

>After recovering from your usual teleport sickness, Twilight mentioned that the High King of the griffons, their princess and others of their royal family and guard had arrived in Canterlot demanding an audience with Celestia over her audacious assassination attempt of their monarch’s only daughter.

>”Assassination? Why would they even accuse Celestia of that?” You ask, running through the pristine marbled halls of Canterlot Castle.

>”I don’t know! Maybe… Oh damn, I don’t know!” Twilight responds in near-hysterics.

>The others continue asking Twilight questions, hoping to hear if the letter elaborated on the situation further, but Twilight’s response continued to be a frantic, “I don’t know!”

>You had to carry Spike on your back now, seeing as his short legs couldn’t keep pace with the ponies, let alone you.

>He seemed grateful at this.

>Finally you reached the doors to the throneroom. Guards in gold and guards in black stopped you all before you could enter.

>”Just a moment,” One states as he opens the door and presents the seven of you to the room of various Griffons and ponies.

>The argument that greeted you through the opened door hushed swiftly as all eyes turned to you.

>”Ah, wonderful timing, Twilight! High King Toroc, allow me to introduce the bearers of the Elements of Harmony: My student Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash seems to be missing. Also, Spike the dragon and Chosen of the Night Lords.” Celestia calls, naming you one by one.

>Luna sits beside her sister, nodding towards you all as you enter.

>All bow respectfully, save for you, who nods slightly at your name.

>You turn your gaze to the griffons. Surrounded by heavily armored knights sits what must be the king, grizzled and bedecked by a jewel-studded crown. He looked positively ancient.

>Beside him stood what must be a captain of the guard, seeing as his suit of armor was far more encrusted with gold and his personal livery. He rested one of his taloned forelegs on the kings shoulder, and whispered in his ear occasionally. It was too far away to make out the words.

>”Tell me, Chosen beast, why do you not bow like the others, hm? To proud to show respect to your betters?” He caws out.

>Celestia comes to your defense, albeit with a tired, slightly annoyed tone. “Toroc, how many times must I remind you to keep this discussion civil?”

>”Civil?! You had your ponies try to kill my only daughter! Now you bring this hairless ape into the room, and he refuses to bow before my sovereignty! Nothing about this exchange is civil!” He thunders back, thumping the arm of his oaken chair to add emphasis.

>At the mention of hairless ape, your blood fires a little bit.

>”YOU WILL APOLOGIZE TO CHOSEN FOR THAT SLIGHT!” Luna booms. “HE HELPED SEAL DISCORD AWAY ONCE MORE AND HE DESERVES YOUR REVERANCE!”

>The room degenerates into bickering and shouting, some well dressed griffons grasping the hilts of their swords, ready for a fight, while Equestrian royal guards ready themselves for a forthcoming fight.

>Diplomacy at its finest.

>”ENOUGH!” Celestia roars above the banter. A window pane near you cracks.

>Silence is still a few moments forthcoming.

>”I understand that you do not believe me when I say no ponies were involved. Why don’t you bring out the princess and have her tell us exactly what happened?” She asks, patience straining in her voice. Beside her, Luna bares her teeth in aftermath of an exchange with the High King.

>”She cannot be trusted,” Toroc hisses. “She would lie to protect her plebian friends.”

>”Then how do you know she was attacked by ponies at all? Your logic seems flawed if you refuse to hear the victim of the crime itself,” You respond to the king with a buttering of contempt.

>Before the aged bird-thing can reply, the captain next to him speaks up.

>”Perhaps, your highness, we should humor these ponies. They seem all too willing to supply us with the evidence for their crimes.”

>Relaxing somewhat, the king agrees. ”Go and bring Gilda here, Valcoran. And make sure she’s dressed appropriately.”

>Wait a second, Gilda?

>Blood of the father, you hope it’s just a common name…

>”Get your hands off me, Valcoran! I can walk, you ugly bastard!” A sickeningly familiar voice yells.

>Grimacing with enough rancor to crack a boulder, Gilda the griffon walks into the room, dressed in a flowing, lacy dress studded with jewels that you never imagined you would see on her. Her cracked beak is wrapped in a bandage and the bruises around her left eye are still visable beneath her makeup.

>If you weren’t preoccupied with your current predicament, you might have laughed.

>Gilda seems to spot you, and her mood seems to lift slightly. Especially since you were out of your armor…

>Rarity leans closer to you and whispers, “Well at least now we know it’s the real Gilda. Her manners haven’t changed one bit, despite the lovely dress she’s wearing.”

>”Gilda, control yourself and apologize to the captain for your outburst!” Toroc admonishes.

>”Screw you dad!” She replies.

>”You will not behave this way, young lady! You are a princess first and foremost! You will remain silent and speak when spoken to!”

>Impossibly, Gilda’s scowl deepens further while she flips off her increasingly infuriated father.

>Before the king can blow a gasket, Celestia steps in.

>”Gilda dear, we asked you to come here so that you could tell us about what happened to you. Would you elaborate on how you got those bruises and a broken beak.”

>”Indeed,” Toroc growls.

>Gilda looks at you nervously, unsure of what to say.

>You know that she lusts after you, but why does she hesitate? Is she afraid of losing a potential object of her desire? Not even Dark Elder favored their playthings so highly. She was a princess, she could find another very easily.

>”Well, I… uh…”

>”Spit it out, Gilda,” her father demands.

>”I, I…” She tries once more, desperately fumbling over even a single letter.

>”If you do not answer, then you will confirm my suspicions. NOW SPEAK.”

>The bandaged griffon’s gaze flits to you, as if asking what to do. A stern gaze meets her, still displaying your disgust for her.

>She does not speak.

>”That settles it then. You ponies attempted to assassinate my daughter to destabilize my country after my death, leaving it ripe for the taking. Make no mistake, Celestia, this means war.” Toroc gruffly states, then turns to leave, followed by his honor guard.

>Celestia sinks into her chair, utterly depressed, while her sister shouts oaths that the griffons will be defeated in the coming battles. Twilight spouts gibberish to herself, trying to talk herself through what is going to take place in a few short days. Applejack now looks very worried, Rarity grimaces at the brusque nature of the griffons, Pinkie’s hair has flattened and looks utterly deflated, Fluttershy covers her mouth with her hooves, while Spike looks to you, seemingly for guidance. Gilda likewise looks to you, only far more panicked.

>War? Not in this place. If Gilda will not speak, then you shall. Innocents will not die for your actions, justified as they were.

>”King Toroc!” You yell after the exiting monarch. He does not turn.

>”I did this! Your daughter tried to violate me and I defended myself. Her wounds are her own fault.”

>The entire procession stops in its tracks. All of the ponies look to you in surprise. Gilda shakes her head and motions with her hands for you to stop your revelation.

>”What did you say, ape?” The ancient beast growls, turning to you.

>Descending from beside Celestia’s throne, you restate your revelation.

>”Gilda tried to molest me, and so I beat her unconscious.”

>”And you expect me to believe that?! My daughter has never shown interest in any prince she has ever met and you say that she tried to rape you, an alien and an animal?! Do you take me for a fool?!”

>”It’s the truth. Gilda knows.”

>The kings head jerks to face his daughter. He stomps his way toward his progeny, who shrinks from his attentions.

>”I only pray he lies, Gilda. I do not know if I could ever forgive something like that.” He hisses, displeasure not really describing his demeanor. It was more akin to hate.

>Apparently xenophobia runs deep in these griffons.

>”Dad, I… I…”

>”Yes or no.”

>”Y-ye-“

>The king backhands his daughter, who falls to the floor, holding her still broken beak.

>”You are my daughter no longer! Guards! Kill the animal! Kill the ponies!”

>Drawing crossbows and swords, armored guards surge towards you.

>Equestrian royal guards likewise raise their spears to meet their opposites.

>The griffons open fire.

>You reaction time, however, was so fast it bordered on supernatural. You had deflected solid slugs with your vambrace and dodged laser fire without feeling its heat. You were already moving to kill the sword wielding guards when a loud snap resounds through the chaos.

>Crossbow bolts clatter to the ground, their flights arrested. The chamber sits empty of all griffons, save for Gilda, who holds her head in her hands, emotional and physical pain blending into one.

>Celestia makes her way towards Gilda, trying to comfort her. Despite healing her wounds, Gilda angrily brushes the charity off and takes flight out of a nearby window, screaming about how all this was your fault.

>Despite feeling entirely justified in your actions, you still felt a little responsible for how everything turned out. If you hadn’t so completely lost control of yourself when Gilda kissed you, this might not have happened at all.

>”Now what?” Applejack asks.

>”(sigh) I don’t know girls. I’d hoped this was all just a misunderstanding. But it seems that Gilda took too much of a liking to Chosen. Now all this has happened.” Celestia responds, depression clouding her voice. The forthcoming war must already be weighing hard on her.

>”We NEED to attack! If we move quickly, we can muster the army and destroy them before-“ Luna suggests aggressively.

>”No.”

>”What do you mean “no”, Chosen? We’re at war now!”

>”I mean, no, I will fight them like a Night Lord would. My actions led to all this. I will handle it.”

>”No, Chosen. It wasn’t your fault. You defended yourself justly. This is Toroc’s fault. He’s been looking for a fight with us since he became king,” Celstia assures you wearily. “Now he has one.”

>”Not after tonight, Celestia.”

>”As great a fighter you are, Chosen, you’re only one guy. You’ll be killed for sure!” Twilight adds.

>”I doubt that. They have swords and crossbows. I have a weapon far more potent.”

>”Like that fancy armor you wear?” Pinkie guesses.

>”Even better.”

>”Well? What is it? What’s your secret weapon?” Spike asks.

>”Fear,” you state, licking your lips in anticipation for a war you are used to fighting.

>No one was going to want to invade Equestria under your watch.