The sun had just risen as Luna descended the chasm, winged members of her Lunar Guard in tow. She had known of the derelict pump station, which had been abandoned decades before her return to Equestria. The village it once served disappeared overnight, taking even the buildings and roads passing through it. No survivors were ever found. Shaking her head, she touched down just before the large shed, wrinkling her nose at the sewage smell. The water was cleaned before it entered the river, but that did nothing to aid the stench within the small cave.

“Princess,” Renoir called as he reclined against the station's wall. At his feet lay the corpse of a pale stallion, most likely Mandrake. To the alicorn, he seemed more relaxed, less ragged for his near-death experience. The exposed areas of his skin had bits of decaying, organic matter splattered here and there and his hair was matted with the muck, but he was smiling.

“Renoir,” she replied, walking to him. As much as she disliked the fetid cavern, she made certain she stepped with certainty, throwing caution to the wind and letting her hooves get dirty. Three paces form the vampire, her hoof sank in the sludge. Her head turned to the side and she repressed the urge to retch. “You seem, ugh, to have handled this rather well.”

“As I said, I was bred for this.” Renoir nodded to the corpse, nudging it with a foot. He gave it a firm kick to roll it into its back. One of the stony, bat-winged guards quirked a brow, but quickly returned to his stoic self as Mandrake's neck wound became visible. It was, as the Lunar Guards noticed, a little larger than one would first assume Renoir's mouth could open. “His spine snapped on impact; killed him deader than he already was.”

“And the bite?” Luna asked, eying the wound. It looked more like an animal bite than what she thought a human might produce.

“I needed to hold onto something.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Imperials were, first and foremost, a people of conquerors. It was often said the greatest sight an Imperial warrior could see was his lover sleeping soundly. Reman did not believe this was the case, seeing Glade resting with her mouth agape, drooling over his chest. It didn't help that the small pool had cooled in Canterlot's chilly air, leaving little more than a wet mess slightly colder than his skin. He noticed sunlight streaming in from the suite's window, and knew Celestia wanted to speak to them.

“Glade,” He said, rocking the shoulder she had the most weight on. He wasn't the best at waking sleeping people, and this was his only option outside of yelling or throwing her off the bed. Rolling his eyes, he moved his hand from her side; he couldn't pull it completely from her as she was resting on it, but he could do one thing he knew would get her attention. The minute his thumb scratched behind her ear, her eyes shot open. He pulled away, his job done.

“I didn't say stop,” Glade whined sarcastically. Reman laughed and said something in Cyrodiilic, which he knew she was unable to understand. She swore to find out one day, because he'd said the very same thing on numerous occasions. “And do we really have to get up so early?”

“As tempting as the idea is, we can't stay in bed all day.” The Imperial sat up, taking the pegasus with him. She rolled out of his lap and hopped off the bed, shaking her mane as straight as she could. She still look bedraggled, but that was fine; breakfast wasn't for a good bit, so she had time to get everything in order. “Your parents might show up after breakfast, maybe before.”

“Right, then you have to start working with the princess on her Imperial etiquette.” Glade rolled her eyes at the idea. The Emperor seemed to be an upstanding guy, not the sort to throw a fit over minor details. Then she remembered this was a formal meeting, not some random encounter away from the public's eye. “Which of them should we tell first?”

“About the baby?” Reman asked before thinking. Glade gave him a flat look.

“No, about the Dwemer automaton we drive around like a carriage,” She answered sarcastically. She smiled and arched her back like a cat, trying to work out a kink she'd developed overnight. With a huff, she sat on the floor. “I just don't know how to break it to my folks.”

“Break what to your folks?” Princess Celestia asked as she poked her head in the room.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

They made it back to the castle shortly after dawn; breakfast was in one hour, by Luna's count. The princess planned on eating and then getting some rest. She had no doubt Renoir was either going to sleep soon, either before or after the meal.

“We haven't seen the last of them,” He said, yawning. He had Mandrake's corpse over his shoulder, wrapped in a dark sheet to prevent it from bursting into flames. He had long abandoned his mask, and even as his dark eyes looked over the castle grounds, he squinted to see in sunlight. “The vampires, I mean.”

“I was worried about that,” She replied. Truthfully, there were too many things going on at once for her and her sister to keep tabs on them. There was one international incident in the making, perhaps two, and now an ancient threat was rearing its ugly head. “Worried, but nonetheless prepared.”

Renoir wasn't going to ask; he truthfully didn't care about her plan. The vampire had his own thoughts on the subject, and his own goals. Whatever means he chose to use were his own, and he wasn't above trafficking them to Tamriel if they were peaceful, but being hunted down by those too ignorant or scared of the unknown was not somethign he would stand for. The two of them walked in silence for a good while, with Springs just behind them. Renoir turned his head a bit and saw the stallion carrying a small, brightly colored box.

“Princess,” He began, hoping she would acknowledge him. Technically speaking, he was off-duty until sunset, but he stuck around until he was directly relieved. He was exhausted, but as awake as he'd ever been.

“Yes, Springs?” Luna asked, stopping to look at him. It was not often she was in such a predicament, and she appreciated his devotion. She smiled. “I trust you wish to see your friend and retire for the day?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He stood stock still as Renoir and Luna stared him down. Both the immortals looked as though they would break their composure, like they were holding back a riotous fit of laughter. The alicorn put a hoof on his shoulder.

“You are dismissed, Spring; you've earned a good rest.” With a nod of her head, Luna sent him off. He trotted away at a respectable pace, neither a walk nor a run. With his effeminate looks, he appeared to be a mare in a bit of a hurry, and nopony dared stop a mare on a mission. “One more thing: get those two out of bed before Twilight's family arrive; they are our diplomats, however unorthodox, and I'd prefer they be presentable.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Princess Celestia knew something was wrong when she looked at Glade's expression. Reman was much better at lying than she was, and he had the same look of slight amusement he always had. Nothing good was coming of this, the princess was certain of that much.

“I'll ask again, break what to your folks?” She wasn't angry; to call her angry was like calling an erupting volcano angry. She was a force of nature, and like all natural phenomena, she had a cause that set her on her course. A volcano was a rather stellar analogy; they both erupted after being subjected to extreme pressure. The planet's motions and politics were not too dissimilar. “Is the Emperor offended by you two?”

“Not quite, no.” Reman cleared his throat as he explained. He was skilled, raised from birth to lie in such a way as to sound truthful, but he, like all mortal men and mer, had a tell, and Celestia knew precisely what it was. However, it wasn't showing; he wasn't being anything other than truthful, but he also wasn't telling the entire truth.

“Then he has bigger plans for you, I suppose?” She asked the Imperial, voice measured and even. She did not want any sort of incident, not with Equestria bonded with Tamriel as it was. The lycans shared a look then nodded uncertainly. “If that's not it, then what? Is he forcing you to marry as a guarantee of our alliance?”

“No, it's nothing like that,” Glade said, her voice wavering under her ruler's scrutiny. Celestia as, as she always tried to be, a kind and caring leader, but her presence was rather... awe-inspiring, especially to mortals who were unaccustomed to such beings. She was no Daedra, but she was corporeal, and that gave her an impact quite unlike the Azura's visitations. “I'm... I'm pregnant, about a month along.”

“So, exactly what I warned you about, Reman?” Celestia's features softened. She was still far from happy, but she realized she was dealing with a pair of scared foals, relatively speaking. They were not spies or subversive agents of any sort; they were just thrust from a carefree life and into parenthood. “Luna told me you were the grandson of a general, a powerful noble, and you weren't taught about basic contraception?”

“I started it; the responsibility rests on me.” Glade looked paler than her bleached coat should have allowed. In a sense, this was a way of finally admitting everything to herself. Her shoulders slumped, her wings drooped, and her eyes lacked a certain luster. “I hadn't exactly been prepared to survive much longer.”

“There's some irony to be found in that, I'm sure.” Reman was speaking sarcastically, which Celestia identified as a coping mechanism. He was just as terrified as Glade, but there was a different fear behind his eyes, something a bit more... visceral.

“Yes; the two of you were prepared for death and you created life,” Celestia said, the corner of her mouth wrinkling in thought. She had heard this story a thousand times over during her reign, but never were the roles played by actors quite like these. “At least you haven't destroyed our chances of alliance, though I doubt that give you much comfort.”

“Not quite, princess; the Emperor plans on... financing us.” Glade drew their attention very quickly with that statement. Reman had a sinking feeling about just such a thing; Titus Mede was no fool, and he must have had a reason for allowing him to keep his name and title. What the Imperial didn’t know was what his Emperor had in mind. “Azura has shown me things, prophesies.”

“Certain or subjective?” Reman asked. His family, House Tullius as a whole, was more or less given power because of the Daedra. Aurelius Tullius had been the son of a merchant, and lived on Vvardenfell during the time of the Nerevarine. She financed the young thief’s trip to Cyrodiil, where he met up with the Thieves Guild and Dark Brotherhood. Were it not for that stroke of luck, he would not have met Joan, and Reman would have never been so much as thought of. “Don't give me that look; my family beseeches more than the Divines when the situation calls for it.”

“As I was saying,” Glade began, giving her forebear a strange look. “One of the futures has you as the count of Kvatch.” Reman, in his defense, looked both amazed and disgusted at the prospect. He was once the heir to House Tullius, but one of the perks of living away from his family was a lack of future responsibility on his end. Personally, he would recommend he and Uriel switch places without anyone knowing. “The guards, at least in the court, were werewolves like us.”

“What?” A certain light of anger passed through the Imperial's eyes. Infecting Glade had been a one-off, and he hardly enjoyed thinking of it.

“They wouldn't be ours, mind you. The Emperor, at least according to Azura, would commission us to lead an army of werewolves.”

“I can't imagine what he would need with such a force,” Celestia said after a moment. Truthfully, she had a very good idea of what the Emperor could accomplish with an army like that. Reman, in a rage, could have inflicted serious damage had she not intervened during the Winter Solstice Festival. He was one werewolf, and certainly not the strongest of his kind. What could a dozen lycans accomplish? What about fifty? One hundred? “Perhaps this is best reserved until a later time. I believe breakfast will be served shortly. I hope the two of you are hungry.”

“Princess...” Glade looked to her princess with hope, and was met with a kind, motherly smile.

“Relax, child; we shall speak of this once we've had a meal and time to settle our nerves.”