Hey, no worries, the fic isn't dead! I just had some projects to do, and then I moved, so I didn't have internet for a while.
Also, thanks to a commenter who mentioned wanting to see Celestia's spy master. The character now playing that role was previously going to have a far stranger part in the story, but this is a better idea.
Celestia sat on her throne before a throng of expectant ponies. The order of the business today for most was requesting defense and troop commitments. If they weren't there for that, then plenty of provinces were looking to sell Equestria war materials, and the nation's bankers were practically murdering one another to propose loans to the state. This all before Celestia had announced anything remotely final, and only two days after Hastur had arrived in the court. In a few weeks, the long distance travelers would arrive, and at that point the court room would be smothered in bodies.
Celestia hadn't slept much the previous night, mostly staying awake wondering if she had been rash about bargaining with Luna's benefit. She felt she could turn this entire affair into something bloodless, but it was going to take time to get things moving, perhaps more time than she was allowing herself. That morning Alfred had also told her about Hastur's "sleep over" with Luna and the end result of the event.
Aside from the initial shock of Hastur being female, supposedly, Celestia was reeling from how quickly Hastur was trying to complete his goals with her sister. She thought there might be a planning stage before Hastur made his move, but he was going to Luna's old castle this evening to discuss rebuilding the place. Originally, Celestia's ploy had seemed like a win win situation. The dragons would go out of their way to help restore Luna at their expense, and in that time frame Celestia would be free to make her own arrangements.
"And if we lose the apple farms then the company doesn't just suffer, the entire nation suffers," finished the determined pony standing at Celestia's hooves.
Celestia focused on the colt, only the last portion of his plaint having gotten through at all. She could swear she had just seen this pony asking Celestia to pay for apple orchards in the desert not long ago.
"I'll bear that in mind," Celestia said sweetly, "But as I informed the other patrons, Equestria is not yet at war, and there's no need to panic."
"Well it couldn't help to add a little armed to defense to the orchards anyway, just in case!" pressed the colt.
Celestia dismissed him with a sigh. In the crowds, Hastur had made himself a center of attention. Incitatus had been ecstatic about the dragon's newly painted nails and spines, and to the courtiers it appeared as though Hastur was trying to stand out. Of course, because he already stuck out like a swollen, gangrenous thumb, wearing flashy clothing and trying to get noticed only made Hastur blend in better. It caused him to seem as though he were struggling to be liked by the court, and that had the effect of putting the ponies at ease. They could trust a strange diplomat desperate for their approval.
Not only was he mixing in better just through appearance, but Hastur had been busy since the morning painting a lovely verbal picture of Azathoth. Celestia could overhear him talking about exotic rituals and strange historical anecdotes. He rambled about the plant life and about the dragons themselves, their society much like that of Equestria's, but yet so much more primitive, he regretted. He made no qualms about confirming the rumor that Azathoth had more gemstones laying around than any dragon knew what to do with.
He made it sound like a place of adventure and excitement, which is just what every pony wants to hear about foreign lands. However, Celestia noticed that Hastur's tales were perhaps a little too exotic. There were next to no ponies who had ever survived a trip to Azathoth and back again, but there was at least one famous case who claimed he had, and his books defined much of what Equestria perceived of the land in present day. That colt was never able to produce maps of the area and many doubted his honesty, including Celestia, but all the same, every year hundreds of adventurous ponies came forth with plans to hunt for the mystical dragon cities and artifacts from the stories.
Celestia strained to hear Hastur over the begging officials, at last catching him spinning some thread about vast magical gardens made to cultivate precious minerals. She was sure it was almost exactly the kind of thing written in the fables about the place. This meant either one of two things were true: Equestria's understanding of a land it had never visited was completely accurate, or Hastur was merely aware of what his hosts believed Azathoth should be like, and he was feeding their ignorance.
Celestia leaned over to Cecil, which more or less train-wrecked the presentation a filly had been trying to give to her.
"I've had enough games," Celestia whispered. "I want you to find your cousin and ask him to meet with me."
Cecil snapped out of his own preoccupied thoughts, his hooves still rubbing together malevolently. "Cousin Miracle?" he asked ruefully. "Must I? He properly weirds me out, Mistress."
"I know," Celestia replied, "But if anyone knows whether or not you are your own father, it will be him." She nudged him with her nose insistently. "Go on."
Cecil rose from his seat and bowed before Celestia. "Thank you, Mistress. This is a sincere weight off of my shoulders! I'll fetch our chief auditor at once!"
He scampered past a series of charts and diagrams set up in front of the throne and ran out the door.
"Chief auditor?" squeaked a horrified, cruelly interrupted filly, still in mid-exposition.
"I'm sorry, dear, you were saying?" Celestia offered.
"N-no!" the filly stammered, nervously tearing down her entire presentation. "I mean, all done! Thank you."
Cecil wandered about the hallways of the castle. The key to finding Cousin Miracle, he believed, was to identify a pony that was most likely to be spying. Of course, the thing about a spying pony was that he would be doing his best not to get noticed. Therefore, it stood to reason, quite logically, that if Cecil wanted to find a spy, he should look for a pony that was least likely to be a spy in the first place. It was this deductive brilliance that nearly held all of Canterlot's jams in an iron hoof of submission.
At last he stumbled upon a likely candidate. She was a bright purple maid dusting one of the potted plants in a meeting room. That was just the kind of dim-witted masquerade a spy would use to disguise his mighty brain power. Cecil approached the filly cautiously.
"Pssst!" he hissed.
The maid drew her full attention to Cecil, the feathered duster still clenched between her teeth. She stared at him for a few seconds, bewildered, before she remembered to curtsy. A clear sign, of course, that perhaps she was not a filly at all!
"Her mistress Celestia requires a Miracle," Cecil whispered cryptically.
The maid continued her vacant stare. She uncertainly clamped at her duster, waiting dutifully for any kind of elaboration at all. Cecil could tell that if she was a spy, she must be one of the best Equestria had to offer. However, he realized that there was a chance he was just talking to a confused maid.
"Pass it on," Cecil urged, covering all his bases.
The maid blinked. Cecil could tell he was not going to crack this one without a fight, but he presumed the message would probably get through one way or the other.
"Okay?" Cecil asked.
The filly nodded. Satisfied, Cecil left the room, winking at her conspiratorially as he went. A job well done.
Celestia returned to her bed chambers to find a middle-aged unicorn pony of reddish fur waiting in the center of her room. His mane was turning gray, and he carried himself with dignity, back straight and head high. He had no cutie mark, but this was none other than Miracle Cecil, cousin to the prime minister and one of the most influential money lenders in the entirety of Equestria. Many speculated that a blank flank was his cutie mark.
Celestia shut her door behind her and locked it. "Isn't it a little rude to wait for audience in a princess's bedroom?" she asked.
She had hoped to freshen up a little and to take a bath. Maybe even an hour of dozing would have been nice after a restless night and a long afternoon.
"I thought maybe you'd finally come to your senses," Miracle replied in cloaked bitterness.
Celestia offered a wry smile.
"Always business and never pleasure with you," the aging colt observed.
"Maybe," Celestia derided. "If you hadn't tried to corner me-"
"I've read the history books," Miracle snapped, calmly. "I know the score." He sighed and his posture sagged. "Although I can only blame myself for getting sucked in."
The two stared at each other levelly. Celestia had known a number of colts in her lifespan. Some fell for her harder than others, but the most emotional part for them was when they tried to move on or when they grew old in light of Celestia's eternal youth. Sometimes, as was the case with Miracle, they turned disappointment into resentment. There were countless warnings written by droves of jilted, disillusioned artists and courtiers, but, generation after generation, the other gender still learned the hard way on a regular basis.
"Well," Miracle said, raising himself up again, "I trust that the Cecil family banks have your support if push comes to shove in upcoming events. What else can I do for you, Celestia?"
Celestia ignored the slight of being addressed without a proper honorific – it was behavior in Miracle that was unlikely to be easily modified. "I'm sure you've heard of this Hastur character by now," she stated.
Miracle nodded.
"He's been prowling around the castle at all hours of the day and night, and quite recently I struck a deal with him regarding my sister. From now on I want to know every time he sneezes, and every time he does so I want it to be because I planned the sneeze in the first place."
Miracle thoughtfully rubbed his cheek. "That's going to be expensive," he informed.
Celestia shook her head. "Cost is not an object," she replied. "He's going to be helping Luna, but I think maybe I've been smothering her. She needs to be able to meet and deal with dangers without me constantly standing guard."
"But her trials need to be carefully orchestrated," Miracle finished. "I understand." He gazed tranquilly at Celestia. "What is Hastur getting?"
"War," Celestia pronounced.
Miracle betrayed no surprise, but merely seemed bemused. "Equestria is getting the worse deal," he appraised. "I hope there are some strings attached."
"No, none," Celestia said, quietly. "Equestria commits to conflict when Luna is happy."
The two exchanged long, morbidly blank expressions.
"You are wonderful," Miracle acclaimed. "I don't care if you'll outlive me. I need you in my life, Celestia. No other mare can compare."
Celestia felt sick. Running a nation required so many steep twists and turns. Colts like Miracle were essential, and sometimes little foals never saw their mommies or daddies again. Sometimes a pony guilty only of being in the wrong place at the wrong time was dragged into the streets, kicking and screaming and crying, and that pony was executed in front of a jeering crowd. Of course, Celestia had to be willing to do to her own family the same as she did to others.
Miracle misjudged Celestia's calculated move for ironclad genius, but the truth was that he was merely observing the cost of a mistake. She had let her emotions and her ego get the better of her, thinking she could roll the dice and play the odds. Now she was backtracking and loading the dice while they were still rolling. Miracle's praise only made it feel dirty and evil.
She met Miracle with a face of stone. "I'm sure you know there's no need for any extremes," she warned him.
"Of course!" Miracle comforted. "I'm a professional. Luna will never notice the difference."
Lieutenant Colonel Sunshine stood at attention with the rest of her squads before General Bucephalus, who was briefing them on their trip to Azathoth. Apparently, they'd just be doing short reconnaissance runs into the territory, looking for dragon encampments near the border that posed the most instant threats to Equestria. It was a non-combat operation meant to provide much needed information to the military's higher-ups.
They stood outside on the marching field, Canterlot's launching pads being much too small to accommodate the entire detachment under Sunshine's command at once. The entire platoon held at rapt vigil. Then, down from the heavens like an angelic figure, descended Princess Celestia, a faraway smile painted on her face. She came to a landing and trotted up beside Bucephalus, who cut short mid sentence and struck a salute.
Celestia leaned in and began to whisper to him, which made his ear twitch. Sunshine strained her own ears to catch what was being said, but couldn't make anything out. A few sentences passed, and a glare splattered across Bucephalus's stolid expression. He turned his head to protest, but Celestia playfully nudged him back to attention with the front of her muzzle, like a kiss.
It was frustrating for Sunshine to watch. Celestia seemed to be getting some kind of demented pleasure from tormenting Bucephalus, and she was sure Celestia's behavior constituted some kind of sexual harassment, but who could a pony report the princess to? Sunshine guessed that when you were the grand general, you just had to play along with whatever games the Goddess Celestia wanted to play.
Celestia finished with Bucephalus and stepped forward. "The following ponies will be joining a special, separate mission, guided specifically by me!" Celestia announced, her voice radiant to make songbirds jealous. "The ponies I call will remain here, and will be given private instructions."
Sunshine's pulse sped. She had been expecting this, but she wasn't sure how her soldiers would be diced and separated. One by one, Celestia called out the names, and Sunshine cringed. Celestia designated no fewer than forty ponies, and by the end of it Sunshine's ears had subconsciously flattened against her skull. They were the best airponies and officers Sunshine had at her disposal – the very ones she had hoped to rely on as her crack teams.
Well, there was no doubting it as far as Sunshine was concerned. Celestia was trying to kill all of them.
Celestia surveyed her selection of hand-picked soldiers, their peers having flown off to the south for certain danger and likely disaster. The ponies maintained a charade of dutiful attitudes, but from the looks on their faces Celestia could see that they had been robbed of glory and prestige. They might have been among the first sanctioned ponies to forge into Azathoth, bearing the banner of Equestria's airforce, directed by General Bucephalus, who was rather well liked as an officer and was known to add his own theatrical flair to military affairs. Now they were as good as grounded, their wings clipped and ambitions yanked out from under them.
Furthermore, Celestia herself may have been revered and, she hoped, loved in the distant sense politically, but she was not known for her martial qualities in the modern era. Centuries ago they sang hymns about the warlord sun goddess when she united the country. Today, however, she was viewed as a stern pacifist – delicate, flowery, artistic, and scholarly. The ancient days of a Spartan Equestria were presumed to be a legacy Celestia killed. Her divine conflict with her greatest nemesis, Nightmare Moon, had been all but stricken from history by her very will.
"Attention!" Celestia barked, her eyes narrow and voice aflame with mettle.
The soldiers came rigidly to order at once, their faces going blank and slipping into automated training mode. Everything is better when it becomes clear that the new boss is in control, Celestia believed.
"I know a lot of you thought you were making history today," Celestia commanded. "I know a lot of you were told that the life of Equestria rested on your shoulders, and now you feel like that burden is being hung on everyone else!"
Celestia stalked down the line, staring down each pony as she passed, daring them to blink. She felt a lit fuse in her own heart. A little rush of intoxicating power pumping through her body.
"Well I've reviewed each of your personal records, and from what I've seen I didn't think it was all that wise to send this group on silly little errands – to ask you to flit about Azathoth, trying not to be seen or noticed while you draw maps and guesstimate how many miles are between oddly-shaped piles of rocks."
She held her wings out as she prowled back and forth, her regal mane flowing behind her in the wind. It made her look bigger, and as it was Celestia was already an imposing figure to most ponies. She was muscular, too, in her feminine way. She was well toned, and as she moved she pushed her hooves off from the ground with a stridency that exemplified good health.
"Instead, I want this squad playing an active role. While the rest of Colonel Sunshine's pegasi passively gather information, this group is going to be hunting it down and throttling the life out of it!"
The ponies were staring at her now. Celestia couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten this much into a public speech.
"We're not just going to be looking at dragons like a bunch of silly bird watchers, we're going to scour Equestria for the things, we're going to find them, and we're going to shake them down for everything they're worth. Today and every day until I'm satisfied that Equestria knows every subtle detail about Azathoth from the major cities to the color of King Nyarlathotep's royal underwear!"
Celestia could see the troops itching from their idleness, her own enthusiasm catching to the group like a disease. Who cared if Nyarlathotep probably didn't wear underwear or if there may not even be dragon cities.
"The only things dragons understand is force and territory, and we're going to let them know just whose territory they're in! Ever since we were foals they've been predators to us! We live in fear of their fire and their teeth, but I am sick of their bullying! It is about time we find these dragons, and so help me – we all know they're rich – we will make them pay their damn taxes!"
Celestia struck the ground. The sound of her hoof colliding with the earth flew up like a thunderclap, aided, in part, by her godlike magic. The soldiers cheered and stomped their feet. Those not taken in by the bravado chuckled; even if they thought Celestia was over-hyping their mission, they could believe the government would stop at nothing to collect taxes.
"Tax forms to every cave in Equestria!" someone yelled, and was met with another round of cheers and stomping.
Celestia waited for the ponies to settle.
"Make no mistake," she continued, "This mission is every bit as vital to the lives of our colts and fillies as anything you'll live to embark on. That's why I've personally chosen this group. You'll be working closely with the royal guard. However, my guard are well trained, but they've grown used to a life of pampered luxury, defending the pristine halls of an unassailed castle in the middle of the country. What I need now are real ponies that work for a living!"
A few of the soldiers beamed with smug pride. Others looked somewhat cautious to believe it. The royal guard were some of the most militant ponies in the known world, drilled constantly and of unwavering loyalty. It was borderline preposterous to think this group could even compare, but Celestia seemed to mean every word. It was uplifting, but also terrifying to imagine having to live up to such an expectation.
Of course, Celestia would be hounding the leaders of her royal guard relentlessly if they couldn't surpass a squad of common soldiers. It would be an outrage if they couldn't, and it would be a permanent black mark on the prestige of the guard's ranks until the day they all retired of shame and embarrassment. Celestia was going to guarantee that her plans would start with a bang – with a competition to impress her.
She summoned eight officers that would be leading the groups and dismissed the airponies to their own devices. Many of them took to the skies in a fit of pent up energy, chasing one another in mock combat. A few nervous ponies were being cheered by their friends, the friends thoroughly infected with Celestia's confidence. The officers before her showed no signs of their original disgruntlement; being wrangled into a special mission under the god princess was turning out to be all it should be.
"We're starting this in earnest tomorrow," Celestia informed them. "Today, I want you to meet with the royal guard and agree on where you'll be sending your teams. Organize with your ponies, and make whatever preparations you need."
The officers nodded eagerly.
"However, bear in mind that with these small groups, you shouldn't try to bring down any dragons unless you see an opportunity you know you have to seize. Rather, just make a note of where you found the dragon and where they appear to be living. We'll reconvene and get the big ones in force."
Again, the officers agreed. It was good to leave them some benefit of the doubt, to let them decide for themselves what constituted a fortunate turn of events. As long as the important orders were clear, the means by which they were achieved would benefit from impromptu creativity.
"Foremost, I want to know what the dragons know. If you find some that are cooperative or willing to talk in exchange for something reasonable, then that's what we're after. I'll give you all a list of general information we need, but any dragon that seems especially interested in talking to us should be reported to me. I have my own agenda aside from what's on the list."
Celestia looked one colt in the eye and held the gaze several seconds. He didn't flinch, and she smiled at him, angelically.
"Maybe we can do sort of a good cop bad cop thing?" she suggested. "I'll be the good cop," she purred, brushing a wing against his face, removing a stray hair. "Time permitting, I'll be joining different groups in an effort to make this as time efficient as possible, so try to leave room for me."
Celestia hoped that would give them a bit of a dilemma. Whatever group she flew with would be able to apprehend and interrogate any dragon in their path, which would let them finish their jobs in one pass. However, whatever group she did go with was likely to either be upstaged by her or would have to work themselves like dogs to impress her. On the other hand, a group without her would have to try to keep up with her on their own, or else she'd feel let down. Celestia was definitely going to have to hint at that somehow.
Celestia turned to leave, but glanced over her shoulder and peered at the officers through her prismatic mane. "I hope you all perform as well as I've heard about you," she said, fluttering her eyelashes suggestively. "Dismissed!" she shouted, punctuating the farewell with authority.
She took to the skies in a magnificent leap. From behind her she heard an impressed sigh.
"I think I'm in love," bemoaned one of the officers.
"What exactly are you doing with my ponies?" Bucephalus demanded, following Celestia briskly at her side as they traversed the hallways of Canterlot.
The smaller servants scuttled out of the way of the two larger horses, especially from underneath the enormous charger.
"I'm afraid that's top secret!" Celestia hummed dismissively.
"What, exactly, is strategically beneficial about the grand general not knowing what his forces are doing?" Bucephalus asked, his ear flipping with irritation. "Forty soldiers! What's wrong with the royal guard?"
Celestia leered at Bucephalus. "Did you know, when Luna and I were both little, Luna always wanted to play with my toys. She had her own, but for some reason mine were always more alluring," she commiserated.
Bucephalus searched her face, but she only gazed back at him acerbically and serenely. "They aren't toys!" he protested. "These are my soldiers!"
He cantered ahead and blocked his goddess's path.
"Stop!" he yelled.
They stopped. The two were in front of one of the royal libraries. A few ponies were milling about, books levitated in the air, but they paused to watch the ensuing scene.
"This has been ridiculous!" Bucephalus hissed. "Are you trying to undermine me? If things keep going this way we're all going to die! First you tell me you've lost Hastur, then you cut a hole in my scouting efforts, and you won't tell me anything about your plans!"
Celestia softened, folding her wings against her body. "It's becoming apparent that I'm paddling upstream," she admitted. "I can stall for time, but sooner or later I'll lose energy and get swept away, backwards, with no idea where I'm going anymore. My court is becoming positively excited about the prospects of invading Azathoth, every important pony in Equestria already thinks it's going to happen, and even you have your troops riled up with delusions of glory and national pride."
Bucephalus scoffed. "The way my troops feel about this war is important," he insisted. "If they go to fight, not sure why they're there and not sure of gain, then they'll be killed. A pony seeks to avoid harm at all costs – it doesn't make them cowards; that's a priority to live. It's my job to make sure that they see the benefit to balance the risk. Your court is your problem, but as long as conflict is looming over us, my soldiers will be eager to prove themselves."
"No better breastplate than a heart untainted?" Celestia asked, quoting one of her prior grand generals.
"That's why it's important for you not to be pulling ponies from the ranks unexpectedly," Bucephalus concluded. "If you hurt their morale and make them think they're being wounded by their leadership, then nothing good is going to happen."
Celestia gave this some thought. It was a good point, but, on the other hand, she decided that Colonol Sunshine would probably feel fine after a few weeks of flying. From reports, she understood Sunshine was a bit on the lively side.
"As for Hastur," Celestia began, changing the subject, "He snuck out immediately after court this morning. Nobody knows for sure where he's gone. I have some idea, but it won't be practical to scramble pegasi to look for him."
"Why do you just let him roam freely around like that?" Bucephalus groaned. "Don't you remember that when he first showed up he mentioned something about allies even the dragons are afraid of? Shouldn't we be deeply concerned to ask him a little about that?"
Celestia shook her head. "I don't think we can trust Hastur in any case, at least not to be wholly forthcoming," she assessed, "But don't worry, I am looking into it."
Bucephalus was no longer shouting, and both horses had resumed a civil demeanor. With the show over, the spectators began returning to their routine business.
Celestia sighed. "General, come here," she suggested, motioning with her head.
Bucephalus shifted uneasily. "I don't want to play any games, princess," he complained.
"Come," she ordered, tapping her hoof against the marble floor.
He watched her guardedly.
"Bruce," she pleaded.
Bucephalus moved forward with a few mistrustful steps. Celestia pulled him towards her with a wing. She craned her head forward and kissed him gently on the neck.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing him again.
Bucephalus resisted at first, his body tense, but he gave in by the second kiss. She reached up and kissed him behind his jawline. Bucephalus sighed, deeply. A gawking pony in the library giggled. Celestia was known to flirt from time to time, but this was considered special treatment to any male.
"I know you're just trying to do your job," Celestia consoled, kissing Bucephalus on the side of his face.
She held her lips close to Bucephalus' ear, which he rotated away from her breath. With a snap, she bit him.
Bucephalus yelped, rearing up and dancing backwards away from Celestia on his hind legs. "What the hell is wrong with you!" he roared. "What is your problem you crazy -"
The general remembered himself at the last minute and snapped to attention, his eyes distant points of white hot fire. A thin line of blood trickled from his ear. Several ponies, their eyes glued to the scene, gasped at the scandal.
"You should get used to expecting things to go wrong, Grand General," Celestia admonished. "Every pony always sees their fantasies first, imagining what events will be like when they get what they're after."
A pony in the peanut gallery made an all too audible crack about a virgin princess and was immediately hushed by his friends. Celestia peered at Bucephalus innocently, trying vainly to suppress her conceited smile while he gritted his teeth hard enough to make her worry. She did feel a little sorry for him, standing there, rejected in front of everyone, likely full of conflicting emotions being mainly overridden by anger. Humility would do him a little good, though; he'd gotten too used to being her courtier, and it was time for him to learn he'd work with what the god princess gave him.
"The thing is, I've been ruling Equestria for just as long as I can remember, but I cannot recall when I lost my mind," Celestia informed, strolling past the furious stallion, "But one thing is for certain." She used her wing to straighten out his mane. "It's gone!" She sang in a lovely falsetto.
She stopped to brush his coat with her feathers, examining the little details, noting the perspiration forming on his skin. "Oh, and in case you hadn't gathered from all this, I'm condoning a full mobilization to prepare for the worst, but take your time because we don't want to rush. Also, I think your idea of evacuating the cities is good. We could train militias to slow the dragons down, but even you couldn't teach them well enough to make a difference, and letting ponies fight without training would be the same as abandoning them."
Celestia passed the war charger, swatting him playfully on the nose with her glorious tail on her way by. It was rubbing salt in the wound, but Celestia liked Bucephalus when he was angry. Get him riled up at the mountains and there was nothing he could do by himself. That's why he'd get a large group of other ponies just as mad at them, and together they'd level the whole range. He got things done when he was mad, and a little nudge in the wrong direction could send him charging for miles in the right one.
She could play the stallion like a fiddle. It was just a pity for him that his particular kind of psychology had to be so painful. Of course, the trouble with being on top of so many others like Bucephalus was is that a pony in power often forgets himself. It was good for him to feel like he had something to struggle against. The more he thought Celestia was dooming everyone, the further lengths he'd go to see that every pony was safe.
