Time seems to freeze for Chrysalis, her body wrenching open every valve and dumping thaums into limbs, muscles, and wings. She seethes with rage, hot breath whistling through bared fangs, legs bending and wings flaring in preparation of a lunge forward. All at the griffon’s casual proposal.

Execution?!

Her mind whirls through plausible scenarios. A rush forward, disemboweling the griffon before projecting a wall of force to knock the flightless off the building. A disabling drain on everycreature present, fueling her followup blasts. A transformation into a maulwurf whose thick hide and sharpened claws would absorb any attack and rend through soft hides. A teleport straight down, into unknown territory, where she would meet up with her infiltrators and disappear.

Except Celestia would interfere, and not on her behalf, should she initiate. Even with the griffon’s bald-faced instigation. A combat transformation would do untold damage to the foal inside her, if she survived at all. And should she flee and be found guilty? Celestia would take her place. She knows the alicorn values her word above her neck.

Their hatred only feeds her bloodlust, pressing her closer to the brink where she would snap. It would only be seconds before she threw caution to the wind, consequences be damned, and attacked. It would doom her and her changelings, even if she captured all present, and plunge Equestria into war. And, worst of all, it would prove him right, that she is deserving of execution.

And so she decides, in the blink of an eye, on a course of action she had considered so briefly she hadn’t even formulated a follow-up plan. She takes a step backward. But it is not a retreat; she holds her head high, imperious, staring unadulterated daggers of hatred as she makes a tactical disengagement and rallies at a less exposed position.

Doug’s side.

She breathes a sigh of relief as the rage washes out of her, a dull apathy taking its place. The rising fury on Shining Armor’s face doesn’t bother her, even as she can tell it is because she went to another stallion instead of him. She doesn’t care. Except, she can detect another emotion.

Hope.

And it isn’t coming from Celestia, even as the alicorn steps forward full of the emotion in question. Nor any of the other ponies, or creatures shouting epithets about her past deeds. Nor from her stallion, the sire of her foal, as he joins Celestia.

But from Doug.

She samples that hope, cautiously. She no longer needs to steal love, or any emotion, but still finds the process invigorating. Low-grade nibbling might not provide the rush that whole-sale devouring did but she still finds her stores replenished, the thaums she dumped into defense again reserved for emergency use. But the fact that she can sense, and pull, something else from him? Especially something as nourishing as hope?

“Councilmember Gruff,” Princess Celestia states, her tone brooking no disagreement, “while I find your… fervor to complete our agenda admirable, you must consider the proper procedures.”

“Procedures,” Gruff scoffs, again clawing at the ground. A wicked smile crosses his face, as much as the permanent scowl of his beak and eyes can smile. “Then I have a proposal.” He points a talon at Chrysalis as she draws closer to Doug. “As Equestria has decided on so many courses of action without consulting the Council, such as the absolution of Queen Chrysalis for her many and varied crimes, few of which were actually committed against Equestria, I propose that Equestria abstain from voting on any of the upcoming items being considered.”

Gasps ring out from the ponies, though Rainbow Dash’s late gasp makes her look like she is just trying to fit in. A number of the lesser delegates exchange hurried whispers as the five members of the Squad look smug. None of the alicorns look pleased, Twilight especially miffed as she paws at the ground and snorts.

“Oh, no!” Spike mutters, Doug glancing over confused. “Those powergrubbing scumbags!”

“What?” Doug whispers, picking up the dragon to better hear him.

Before Spike can explain Celestia clears her throat. She is the only pony without a visible reaction to the proposal, though Luna comes close except for a quickly hidden glare at her Sister. Even Cadance, for as much as Shining Armor’s reaction to Chrysalis distracted her, turns back to scowl at Councilmember Gruff.

“An… interesting proposal, Councilmember, though I can’t say it is unexpected.” Celestia passes her warm smile across those gathered, though each can feel the steel hidden under the silk. “Perhaps, while we discuss this matter, we might make introductions?” She motions to Luna, Twilight, and Doug. “Not all of us have met each other.”

“Hrmph,” Gruff snorts. “Fine.” He points a single claw at Chrysalis. “But at the end of the day, I will have her head on my wall.”

Celestia’s smile never wavers, though the nod of her head is so slight it might be missed. She breaks off, as do the other members, milling among the ponies and exchanging introductions.

Spike, before anycreature can draw near, quickly explains to Doug. “Historically there have been six voting members on the Council. Equestria and the Dragons are permanent members, and the other four serve four year terms, changing out one a year. The other delegates can still participate in discussions but can’t vote, which is why not all of the countries and city states are here. You need a majority of the votes to pass, but Equestria wins ties. That means that you need a supermajority to pass something against the Equestrian vote, and not many creatures want to vote against Celestia.”

“So the griffons, or whoever, only need to convince two others to vote with them instead of three.” Doug frowns, tugging Spike a little higher to scratch at his chin.

“Yeah, but it’s worse than that,” Spike growls. “I don’t think Celestia’s ever been on the back hoof like this. The others can tell, and they’re going to try to get as much out of her as they can.” He points at Gruff. “I’ve heard he pulls this same act every time - arguing for as extreme a position as he can - in the hopes that Celestia or somecreature will pay him off. And if you give in, he just gets worse the next time.”

“Despicable,” Doug says, but before their discussion can devolve into further insults the red dragon marches up to them.

“Hey, Garble!” Spike greets loudly, jumping out of Doug’s arms to run up to the much taller dragon. He raises a clawed fist and Garble bumps it much harder than necessary, sending Spike to the floor. He rubs at his tail as he gets up. “I didn’t know you would be here!”

“‘Sup, Spike,” Garble says with a nonchalant stretch of his claws above his head. “You might not know it, but I’m a pretty important dragon.”

“Well, yeah!” Spike grins as he lists off, “Lead guitarist of Dragonfarce, delegate to the Council, and-”

Garble cuts in as Spike stalls, “One of the main contenders for the Bloodstone Scepter!” He flexes, his muscles bulging, and breathes a great gout of fire upward.

“Awesome!” Spike says, enthralled at the fire. He wishes his breath was that strong, but all he can do is send letters and occasionally turn books to ash. He cocks his head quizzically. “What’s the Bloodstone Scepter?”

Garble stares blankly at Spike for a long moment. “Oh!” he exclaims, slapping himself in the head. “That’s right! You were raised by ponies!” He shakes his head, snorting at the absurdity. “The Dragon Lord wields the Bloodstone Scepter, and in a couple years Dragon Lord Torch is gonna step down. Whoever wins the Gauntlet of Fire he sets up will become the next Dragon Lord for a hundred years!” He snickers to himself. “And that dragon is gonna be me!”

“Right on,” Spike says, a bit fearful of Garble. “So you’re training for that?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” Garble shoots another breath of fire into the air. “I can do this for days! But, uh,” he awkwardly scratches his back frills, “What are you, um, up to? Still hanging out with that, er, Candy Crush?”

“Sweetie Belle,” Spike corrects, nodding. “Yeah, we’re tight.”

“Cool. I mean, that’s hot.” Garble tugs at his neck. “Hey, you know I’m here representing the dragons. And that means I gotta do things that are in our interest, right?”

Spike’s face falls. “Right,” he says glumly. “Right.”

Garble gives a short wave before walking off, the yak and minotaur taking his place. The yak, long hair completely covering his eyes, still looks unhappy to be there. He restlessly shifts as if barely holding himself back from smashing something. Doug shares that feeling, tired of being cooped up inside the airship and, likely, in an upcoming series of meetings where Celestia and the others will be lambasted for hours on end.

The minotaur reaches a huge hand forward. Doug takes it, only to immediately regret the decision.

“Iron Grip welcomes you to Klugetown!” the minotaur bellows, crushing Doug’s hand. He imagines he can hear bones popping, but it might just be the joints. “It may not be as marvelous as Minotauria, but noplace is!”

“Hah!” bellows the yak just as loudly. The minotaur still hasn’t released Doug’s hand. “Yakyakistan best! Prince Rutherford knows! Has best music, best food, best hay! Anything not best? YAK SMASH!!”

He rears up, then slams his hooves onto the roof of the embassy. It sends a shudder through the building, and thankfully doesn’t collapse.

Doug sways, the minotaur doesn’t, and he slowly regains his balance. His hand has gone numb, and puts as much pressure into the grip as he can. It barely feels like he made a dent.

Iron Grip grins nonetheless. “Ah! It feels good to grip another, yes? Much better than hoof or magic!” He releases Doug’s hand, who has the sense not to try to rub it. “You shake well! You must have met Iron Will, Iron Grip’s brother!”

“I’ve seen posters for his classes, but that was in Canterlot.” Doug rubs his chin. “I don’t think he’s been to Ponyville yet.”

“Then Iron Grip will tell Iron Will to take Iron Will’s assertiveness seminars to Ponyville!” His grin only widens as he winks lewdly at Chrysalis. “Though Iron Grip doubts Doug needs help there!”

“I don’t know about that,” the Storm King interjects as he casually ambles forward, stopping next to Chrysalis. She comes up to his chest, even standing imperiously. “He doesn’t strike me as the type who would, or could, defend his mares. With words or actions.” He fondly draws a finger along Chrysalis’ chin, ending at her neck. “Isn’t that right, ‘Lis?” He leers at her as she scowls at him. “I missed you! Also, loving the new look.”

“Hey,” Chrysalis and Doug spit out at the same time. Doug takes an aggressive step forward as Chrysalis pulls away.

“Oh?” the Storm King laughs, bending down to slap his knee. “Oh! Oh! You’re serious!” He shakes his head as he reaches forward, grabbing Doug around the arm and easily lifting him into the air. He sneers at Doug’s look of surprise and pain. “I’d challenge you for her, but we both know how that would go.”

“I…” Doug stammers, worriedly glancing back at Chrysalis.

Only for Shining Armor to step forward. “That’s because she’s not his to defend.” He glares at Doug before turning to the Storm King. “She’s mine.”

The Storm King drops Doug, leaving him rubbing at his arm as he scrambles back. Rainbow Dash rushes to his side while the rest of the ponies watching with bated breath. None move to interfere as the Storm King advances with a sneer.

“Then I challenge you, Prince Consort Shining Armor.”

Shining Armor returns the sneer. “You got it.”

The Storm King raises his staff overhead and slams it down with an ominous *boom*.

“Then let’s get this storm started!”

Next Chapter: Ch. 12 - Warlord's Reach, Part Four Estimated time remaining: 30 Hours, 22 Minutes