“What acts of barbarism will they bring about?” Luna asks with a contemptuous scowl. She finds it difficult to maintain as Doug digs in deeper, growling as she tries to concentrate on her answer. “They will protest their dismay. The yaks shall stomp, the dragons breathe their fire, and the griffons keen and gnash their beaks. Yet it shall be for naught, as we shall not relinquish what is right for what is expedient, nor succumb to threats of terror.”

“Well spoken,” Doug says, his words nearly lost amid the jubilant stomps of the ponies. He rewards her statement with an affirming squeeze to her barrel, just behind her wings.

A smile teases at the corners of her muzzle, a muted signal that nevertheless speaks loudly of the joy she feels at the other’s, and especially her stallion’s, praise. She graciously allows him to continue his service, raising a wing so he might better reach the damp and matted fur underneath. He capitalizes on her capitulation, not that she sees it as such, assaulting both sides of her barrel with long and forceful strokes that end with firm squeezes to the secure hold of her womb.

“What would happen next?” Doug asks as he stretches across his mare, adding tickling swishes of his fingernails against her sides. “You think they would go quietly into the night?”

Luna struggles to avoid flinching, lest she succumb as her Sister often does to his ministrations. She finds that she cannot deny his potency, his hands honed on the haunches of her herdmates. Yet she decries the indisputable fact that she is merely one in a line of mares, and the lack of spontaneity that comes with treating so many, and would be cast aside - though tenderly and without malice - when it comes time for another. So she finds it easy to resist, to withhold the teasing motions and often lewd invitations the others twist into their reactions.

“What they do is of little concern to us,” Luna replies. Her words are not cold but aloof, and perhaps rightfully so. “Equestria has stood impregnable for centuries.”

“Don’t know about that,” Doug cuts in with a cheeky grin.

Luna grunts as he grips her teats, the flat mounds offering little in the way of resistance. She finds his fascination with them puzzling; the other mares reluctantly confess to a similar lack of pleasure from his stimulation, yet the action serves as a clear indicator of his intentions. He seems to enjoy them immensely for some strange reason; she wonders if he will begin rutting her then and there.

“Perhaps,” she concedes, suppressing her smirk. “Though if thy prowess proves the reason for our collapse?”

Luna turns, regarding Doug with a strong sniff from her slightly raised nose. It is obvious from his hesitation that he cannot tell if she is serious or not, and holds her gaze for several long seconds. She breathes a sigh of relief as his hands move on, winking at him and allowing her smirk to spread across her muzzle as she turns back, relishing his heavy but cheerful sigh as he again digs into her coat.

Celestia raises her head at the jovial exchange, a smile blossoming from barren ground. She stands, meeting her Sister’s eyes as she steps to the edge of the tub. A quick flick of the ear later and she carefully climbs into the tub, squeezing withers against withers and muting her flowing tail. She nuzzles, hard and needful, then contritely dips her muzzle into the water. Yet rather than rest above her Luna dips alongside her, pushing the flat of her long face against her Sister’s.

An anxious series of knocks on the door draws hesitant looks from the ponies getting ready to nap. Applejack, the closest, gets up and answers.

“Howdy,” she greets the distraught pale blue hippogriff. She raises an eyebrow as he rakes his talons against each other, his worry quite apparent. “Come on in. What can we do ya for?”

“I come bearing terrible news,” Sky Beak says, quickly looking over the scattered ponies as he steps inside. He waits until the door shuts behind him before continuing. “The others have portioned off sections of Equestria like some great whale, sharks ready to rend flesh from bone should you refuse to resign your power.”

Breath catches in throats, ears fold back, and bellies press against the floor as Sky Beak explains the other creature’s plans. Luna’s eyes smolder with righteous fury while Celestia’s fade to a dull void, no trace of the Breaker of Day’s red rage. But the knowledge that even the other ponies of the realm would raise hooves against them? It sits easy with nopony, all trading whimpers and uneasy glances.

“We can’t thank ya enough for tellin’ us all this,” Applejack forces out when he is finished, pulling her hat off to try to fan some of the sweat away. “But, how’d ya get away from them to come tell us?”

“We hippogriffs have made a… habit of laying low,” Sky Beak imparts. His countenance darkens. “I hate it. We are creatures of the sun, made to bathe in its purifying light, not cower under the cover of darkness! Or the sea. We lose more of our past, our traditions with every passing day!”

“Ah hear ya.” Applejack gulps, glancing at Celestia and Luna. Luna’s resolve helps bolster her spirits, but compared to how Celestia is reacting? She can barely keep her voice from shaking. “But, um, we might have a bit more on our plate than we can chew, if what yer sayin’ is true.”

“Is that right?” Rarity asks Shining Armor, barely able to dare the question.

“It’s…” Guard Captain Shining Armor takes a deep breath. “If they came at us with everything? Even with advance warning…” He shakes his head, not needing to look at Celestia to know what it would mean for her to break her word. “No. Even then, we wouldn’t have enough time to prepare. Evacuate, maybe, but that would only buy us time for the Princesses to move from one location to another.”

“We’re that reliant on the alicorns?” Doug groans, gritting his teeth as he rests one hand on each mare’s back.

Shining Armor’s nod is long and grim. “Equestria’s defenses have always relied on early detection and rapid response. Against a single nation? We could deploy the Wonderbolts as scouts and harassers, field a combined army of earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi, and have an alicorn ready to engage directly should the need arise. But with our forces spread so thin, and compared to what the other nations can muster? I fear you would be overworked, perhaps direly, especially with your… restrictions on how much power you have available.”

Twilight’s raspberry glow pins a map of Equestria onto one of the walls. From Rarity’s bags she grabs a collection of pins, marking the various cities and towns. Spirits sink as the ponies realize they have nearly a dozen places large enough to be considered targets, to say nothing of the smaller settlements that dot the forests and plains.

Shining Armor’s voice has lost any sort of gloom, regarding the problem with cold calculation. “The races we are worried about attacking are also the harder ones to assault. That would be the Dragons and the Griffons. We will suffer heavy casualties, especially among civilians, no matter whom is present.”

Hairs bristle at the thought. Each of the sworn defenders of Equestria resolve to never let that happen, no matter the cost. Yet the problem looks insurmountable as Shining Armor continues.

“We can expect heavy infrastructural damage anywhere the Yaks and the Minotaurs show up, and to a lesser extent the Saddle Arabians.” He frowns at the problems that can’t be fixed by swinging a spear. “Enough to be an equanitarian crisis that would require coordinated effort by the remaining cities, effort we may not be able to spare. But the biggest issue is the Storm Armada. If he takes Canterlot, that’s our central hub gone. The rest of the country would be isolated from each other, with no intercontinental access except in the eastern seaboard. Reinforcements would be tricky at best, leaving each area to fend for itself."

“Does that mean we give up?” Rarity tentatively asks, shuddering at the thought of asking the alicorns to give up their power under such circumstances. Really, any circumstances are bad enough. But this?

Shining Armor considers the situation for a long time. “Equestria has relied on Celestia to act as a deterrent, the implied threat of leaving an attacking force nowhere to return home. As well as keeping them from clumping together were any sort of engagement to actually happen. But with varied forces like this? Even if they didn’t scatter at the first sign of golden light, there would be losses.”

“On both sides,” Celestia adds. The sorrow in her voice sends chills along spines, each pony flinching as they consider what would happen to the attacking creatures. “How many shall we condemn to the stars for our actions?”

“Sister,” Luna retorts, scowling. “They make their choices, just like we must make ours. It does not matter if there are or are not better solutions. This is the right thing to do. Nothing else is important!”

“For the sake of argument,” Doug says, a calming hand keeping Luna from immediately snapping at him. “What happens if you do give up your power? Assuming it is safe for you and the foals.”

The hand isn’t enough to keep Luna from rebutting. “We forestall this attack only to leave ourselves exposed to others.”

“The Wonderbolts aren’t that weak,” Rainbow Dash grunts out, crossing her forelegs across her chest and blowing a lock of her mane out of her face.

“And what if we keep the Staff of Sacanas?” Doug glances at Celestia and Twilight. “This staff can move the heavens. What else can it do?”

“Anything the wielder puts their mind to,” Celestia claims with an affirming nod from Twilight. “To an extent. For instance, the Storm King might conjure storms, lightning, and wind on par with a hurricane. Inefficient, yes, but with that much raw magical might? Surely you have seen the range of spells that Twilight knows, some practical while others are far more esoteric.”

“So whoever wields the staff could use it for Equestria’s defense. It wouldn’t be as strong as an alicorn, I assume, but something.” Doug’s mouth purses as he rubs at his chin.

“Assuming they let us keep it?” Twilight frowns. “That seems unlikely. The whole point of this is to deprive us of our power.”

“Okay,” Doug admits. “Sure. And the same is true if one of the other nations gets it.”

“Indeed,” Luna states. She flicks her wing at Doug, but he doesn’t release his grip on her. “They desire a better country, but believe stealing other’s might will lead them there. The fighting among them for who gets the Staff would be… fierce. There is little hope of allowing us to keep the staff, despite our faithful stewarding of such power for so long.”

“So, then, if we could choose.” Doug glances at Celestia, Luna unlikely to want to speculate in this direction. “Who would we give the Staff to?”

“The creatures whom I would trust with such power? Outside of those in this room?” Celestia ponders the question for several long moments. “Queen Novo comes to mind… but I could certainly see her wielding our power as a cudgel against the Storm Realm who banished her to the seas. Their ships are made to weather storms, even lightning, so she would be forced to go after civilians and infrastructure. It would embroil the southern seas in conflict. Any of the lesser nations I do not foresee being able to resist losing the Staff, either through brute force or from a thief in the night.”

“And on the eastern side of things?” Doug asks, mostly for completeness.

“The dragons and the griffons?” Celestia’s cheeks bulge as she tries to hold in her laughter. She looks around the room for something, anything, that might take her mind off such an audacious move. Yet her hysterics catch up to her, breaking forth in a torrent of high-pitched giggles, neighs, and hooves pounding against the water. A shield from Luna redirects any splashed water toward Doug, who weathers the storm with a stoic sigh.

“I… I cannot imagine a scenario that could turn out worse for us.” Celestia shakes her head grimly. “The very first thing they would do would be to rally their brethren and demand a feast whose ingredients would only get more exotic. And if veal is any indication, then alicorn-”

“Please,” Fluttershy begs from across the room. Clasping her hooves against her face and plugging her ears with her wings isn’t enough; she doesn’t want to have to use her Stare, not against the Princess, but in these dire circumstances? “Please. Just… stop?”

“If thou believes the partitioning of our foals to be vile,” Luna retorts, as cold and emotionless as the void of space. “Wait until we split the cities into those we defend and those we do not.”

“You’re doing a great job highlighting why you shouldn’t give up your power at all,” Doug states, his stomach clenched tight. He lost what little squeamishness he had when he helped Prince Blueblood butcher the rhoas, and has only inured himself further by preparing a lot of his own meat and helping Pharynx set up the abattoir. But contemplating the same with his mares? Just the thought makes him nauseous. “Or give any of these creatures a foot… hoofhold in Equestria.” He sinks back, sickened at his next thought. He shouldn’t voice it, but does anyway. “It’s enough to make me consider preemptively using the offensive part of our defensive strategy.”

“Then what?” Celestia demands, teetering on the edge of despondency. “Lock up civilians for the crime of being born the wrong race? Many of them have spent their entire lives in Equestria.” She points a hoof. “What of Spike? Should he be thrown in with the others on the chance that he might turn his scales?”

“Hah! Could you imagine?” Spike playfully growls, crouching down before leaping at Twilight! “Raargh!”

“Spike!” Twilight laughs as the small purple dragon pounces on her and gnaws at her hind leg. She tries to shake him off but he gamely holds on. “That tickles!”

“Om, nom, nom!” Spike says between delicate chews. “Hey, you know, some fire sauce and I could probably choke this down.”

“Hey, I taste better than that!” Twilight exclaims before realizing what she just said. She huffs. “And that’s not the point! Nopony is going to be eaten!”

“Exactly.” Doug’s hard voice carries through the room. He starts by focusing on the cobalt alicorn next to him. “Luna, you were right earlier.”

Luna’s ears prick at the admission, her smile creeping across her muzzle. She did not expect such a clear decision between what she and Celestia are arguing, though her elation subsides at seeing the downcast look of her Sister.

“But,” Doug says, withdrawing a slight amount of that praise, “we have to remember what the ‘right’ is that we are championing. And I would argue, and I think we would all agree, that that ‘right’ is the lives of ponies, and indeed everycreature, everywhere.” He looks around the room. “Any disagreement?”

Luna growls, but to herself. She would quibble about the inclusion of everycreature, and wonders if he did it merely for Sky Beak. Though her Sister would certainly argue in his favor, and she lets Doug’s statement go without contest. None of the other ponies disagree, either.

“So we have to ask. Does giving up your power, your liberty, your freedom buy you any security, however temporary? Does this help your little ponies?” Doug shakes his head. “I would argue it does not. It makes us no safer, even if we kept the staff. And even if I thought it would, we would deserve neither power nor safety if we gave up one for the other.”

“So ya don’t think we should lock up the griffons, just in case?” Applejack asks with a certain dread. She remembers the salesgriffons flying around their farm, how she counted the pigs each time to make sure any didn’t ‘wander’ off. How much worse would it be counting foals?

Doug takes a deep breath. “Correct. Because even if that makes us vulnerable, to do otherwise would be worse. Better to give each their chance, treat them as individuals, and suffer the consequences, however dire.”

“A very… optimistic view,” Luna states evenly. Pinkie Pie’s ears perk up, the mare beaming.

“Just like I have for you.” Doug leans forward, gripping Celestia’s chin and gently twisting her head to face him. She resists at first, choosing to stare at the water, before giving in and meeting his gaze. “All you’ve done has been working toward the betterment of Equestria and your ponies. And, when you could spare the effort, the betterment of all Equus. You’ve gained power in that pursuit. And I think you should never apologize for that.”

“No?” Celestia says, a ray of hope lighting the back of her eyes.

“No.” Doug grunts as Celestia rears up and twirls to meet him muzzle to face. “What these other creatures want? They don’t care about you or your ponies. They only care about themselves. You’ve proven through the centuries that you are a responsible caretaker of that power. You haven’t abused it through the countless ways imaginable. You have, day after countless day, raised the sun and lowered the moon, only to reverse it again that night. Without fail, waking up before the dawn you provide.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know if I could do it. Yet your ponies have stayed safe under your care, despite being beset by foes only too eager to take advantage of the wondrous conditions you provide. I know my praise doesn’t mean much, but you have it.”

Celestia crouches down just slightly, the bend in her legs giving away her intentions. That or the sway in her flanks, how her tail twitches upward ever so slightly, and how her eyes flutter, suddenly bright and full of life.

“But know,” Doug says, a finger lightly pressing on her lips keeping her from lunging forward. “Even if this doesn’t work out? I have every confidence that you will remember your little ponies. That you won’t give up hope like those despots think you will. And I will be there, ready to console you in our hour of grief. But that’s all it would be, because I wouldn’t be satisfied with failure, and you wouldn’t - and shouldn’t - be either.”

Celestia leans forward to nuzzle him, her soft smile begging to be more. Her tongue wets her lips, still glistening from the clear water.

“And if they think that one foal will upset the balance between the nations?” Doug swishes a finger from the nape of her neck down her barrel, as far as he can reach without taking his eyes off hers. He loves how they shine, a radiance he suspects was there all along. “I’d hate for them to know what plans I have for you. And I bet they can’t compare to your own.”

At that point Celestia’s restraint finally breaks, rushing forward to pin her stallion against the side of the tub.

Next Chapter: Ch. 44 - Pugilist, Part Three Estimated time remaining: 24 Hours, 59 Minutes