Bruce gestured for order among the horde of amassed diamond dogs standing before him. They stood 900 strong, with claymore, pike, and fallen tree branches in hand.

“IF’N ANY’A YE WISH FER DEATH, GO BACK UNDER THE EARTH!” The crowd cheered and he smirked with a wide grin. “WE’RE DOGS. WE’RE BRAVE. WE’RE WARRIORS. IF THOSE DEMONS THINK WE JUST GONNAE SIT ON OUR ARSES AND DRAG ALONG THA GROUND, WE GONNAE SHOW ‘EM WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YE MESS WITH US!”

This was it. This would be their Rorke’s Drift, their Battle of Bannockburn. Not only would they rout the griffon oppressors, they would then capture them as prisoners and force them to take Copseburgh on their own terms.

“WE’RE GON’TA SET UP A DEFENSE WHAT LIKE ONLY A DOG CAN!” That is, preparing to wage a massive guerilla war on their own turf. Punji pits, underground tunnels, hit and run. This is where Bruce would cement his legend as a hero to his people.

“Bruce?” His cousin got his attention. “What is that?” Bruce turned around and squinted his eyes. Being creatures that lived primarily underground, their vision wasn’t the greatest. Something approached from the distance.

“SHITE!” The still injured diamond dog leader yelled in a panic. Before he could fuck off, Bruce grabbed his shoulder.

“No… those are ours…” Their eyes widened collectively as they were approached by the mass.

Many of them walked with their heads down, groaning as a single paw clutched their faces, covering their eyes. Dried blood ran down their cheeks and many of them had wounds filled with pus literally dripping down their bodies.

“They didn’t.” Bruce mumbled to himself in disbelief. The man in the front, who had but a single eye, handed him a scroll and a white cloth stained with pus, blood and dirt.

“We cannae fight them, Sir.” He said, collapsing to the ground at Bruce’s feet.

Slowly, he unraveled the scroll, feeling numb inside.

Terms Of Surrender, as written by Don Leona Grimfeather.

Surrender, or die. Seriously. That’s your only option. What? Are you gonna fight off an army with superior training, discipline and weapons, while simultaneously taking care of 500 dying, disabled, and useless men?

Ohh, or even better! You can have them all put down… but good luck keeping the love of your people that way. That reminds me of an old quote where I’m from, by a real stand up kinda guy named Machiavelli.

Machiavelli once stated in response to the question of whether or not it is better to be loved or feared. His response was that while it is nice to be loved, fear is often your safer bet. But there’s another part of that quote that people often forget- NEVER be hated by your people.

If you go down the path of executing these men, you can forget any notions of being loved or feared by your people. No, you WILL be hated, and it will be your fault alone.

Take my advice. Take care of these men, and we will be arriving soon-ish. Tie the white flag to the tallest tree within the vicinity of the den.

-Don Grimfeather, Grimfeather Outfit.
Godmother.

Bruce dropped the scroll at his feet, trembling. The crowd of his men, once so ready and full of life, looked on in horror as the conga line of dying men approached, their moans and groans of pain increasing in volume with every step closer.

“What… do we do?” his cousin asked him. He turned slowly.

“Take this flag and tie it to the tallest tree. We can’t fight them.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head,

“We will help the sick and the injured, and we will take solace that we’re not the monsters that did this.”

It was a dark day in the clan's history. One which its spirit may never recover from. It is never nice to see the men that relied on you laying in the field. Broken. Defeated… zero yard stares. Morale? What’s that?

One shudders to imagine what monstrous things lie behind the mask of Leona... what dreams of chronic and sustained cruelty?

---

Princess Twilight Sparkle snored softly in her bed in Canterlot. Her alarm, which played a soft classical piece is what roused her from her peaceful rest. She sighed wistfully, pressing the ‘fuck off’ button on her alarm.

Being the princess of what is currently the most powerful nation on the planet is quite a stressful job by yourself. Even Luna was considering coming out of retirement in light of recent political events.

But it was early in the morning, and Twilight did not want to think about any of that stuff. Nope. She had her morning routine, and she would stick to it. It was a piece of advice Celestia gave Twilight which definitely protected her sanity.

After all, one does not live for 6000+ years without figuring out how to avoid going mad.

She sat up and stretched her limbs with a faint moan. What a weird dream… she thought to herself. Though her memory of it was fading rapidly, one thing was stuck in her head- Carcosa. Whatever that means. Normally if she was having weird dreams, she’d go straight to Luna… but for some reason, she felt at ease enough that she didn’t feel the need to.

Her morning routine was the perfect time to think- about herself, her friends, her family… or the fact that she’s 35 years old and still a virgin. According to certain rumors, this celibacy is actually where her connection to the element of Magic originates.

Tangents aside, she was feeling pretty good about today. She had her servants assist her in putting on her peytral (which she admitted would need resized soon) and then made her way to her viewing balcony, where a servant brought her a mug of coffee.

She channeled the magic into her horn to raise the sun. But then- raising the sun would be a bit of a misnomer. It was more like winding a pocket watch. The springs are pure, raw fission and the sun itself was an engine on a track. But like most trains, it can be taken off the rails- which Discord did for amusement during his terrible reign.

High on Mount Canterhorn, a ring of fog slowly formed around the mountain that her nation's capital rested upon as the hot sun warmed up dew and brought up fog from the small lakes and rivers which dotted the mountain. Have you ever wondered why most canterlot nobles wear clothes? Well, it’s cold as tits up there.

She felt like a wanderer atop a sea of fog and smiled as she took a sip of her coffee. Her eyes closed and she raised her head in the air, letting the sun's rays caress her neck like a lover's touch.

Not that she’d know anything about that.

Footsteps approaching from behind are what brought her out of her pondering.

“Captain Gallus.” She said with a nod. He was wearing his armor and holding a manilla folder.

“Our spies have reported back from The Confederacy. What they found was…” He was evidently nervous. Twilight put a wing around his back.

“Let’s have this meeting in your office. Something tells me I’m gonna need to sit down and have a drink after this.”

“Of course, Princess Twilight.” he said, and she snorted.

“I thought I told you to call me Twilight?” she asked with a friendly smirk.

“And I thought I asked you to just call me Gallus?” She took a sip of her coffee and blinked. Oh right, I did use the honorific, didn’t I?

“Sorry about that. It’s still early yet.” Despite her mood, she was still quite tired.

“You’re a princess, aren’t you?” He said with a hearty chuckle,

“Oh, yeah!” She said, rolling her eyes. “By my decree, the sun doesn’t rise until noon! My word is final!” She said, jokingly putting her hoof down.

“Thy will be done, Goddess.” He said, rolling his eyes. Their trek continued and they decided to just savor the early morning silence.

They took their seats across from each other when Gallus pulled out three photos, holding them before him like a hand of cards. All the meanwhile, a fly buzzed about the room, occasionally landing on a random fixture and doing… fly things.

“Let’s start with… whatever the fuck this is. We’re not sure why he got these ones, though they do have potential use for blackmail.”

“What…” She grabbed one of the photos which Gallus slid her way. “Oh my!” She said, blushing madly and slamming the photos face down. She then looked at it then turned it around slowly. “Is that-”

“Leona and her wife screwing in the bathroom of some backwater pub?” While the photo was grainy and in black and white, Twilight could not get the image of that tongue parasite doing… eugh… out of her mind. “Yes. I did not order any of them to take photos of this nature… but, again- blackmail.” Twilight slid the dubious photos back to Gallus after taking one last peek, mainly out of morbid curiosity.

“Archive those for now. I’d rather not mentally scar my country if I can avoid it.” Gallus nodded slowly and held the next set of photos. He glanced to the side nervously, wondering if Twilight really should be seeing this.

Wordlessly, he set the pictures face down and slid them across. Their eyes met briefly, and Gallus nodded.

“Holy Celestia…” Twilight muttered to herself, utterly horrified at the photo. It was a field of Diamond Dogs. All dead, laying on the grass neatly in piles of 50.

“Men. Women. Children. Combatants and otherwise… Infants.” Gallus said flatly, pulling a flask of gin out of his desk and setting it up top for the both of them to share. “Literal hundreds. Griffons were paid to help with the cleanup because there were so few survivors from the attack.” After a few seconds, Twilight took a small sip of gin.

“How.” Was all she asked.

“Poisonous gas. Flooded the mines with it.” He said, rubbing his temple. “Manufactured here, in Equestria under legal circumstances and shipped to Fertilia, still very much legally at the time.” Twilight sighed in deep frustration.

“And they were funded by an anonymous benefactor going under the pseudonym of Lovecraft?” Gallus simply nodded. “For fucks sake. Uuugh, give me a sec to think about this.” She took a deep breath, scratching her chin as she looked off to the side.

“We can’t just arrest them. Despite what they did, the fertilizers coming out of their factory have become essential in these past few years. It wasn’t a single manufacturer, it was all of them. Mostly.” He said with a sort of more or less kinda gesture.

“I know… Ugh, determine if they knew if they were manufacturing weapons and illegally exporting them. If they’re all guilty, then we’ll just work on nationalizing the production.” She then leaned back in her seat, as the revelation that today was FUBAR really set in. “If that’ll be all, work on that while I put sanctions in place for-”

But then, there was a single knock on the door and an envelope slid underneath. Twilight used her magic to float the letter to Gallus. A quick glance confirmed it was from one of his spies.

“If you would?” He reached for the letter and opened it, revealing a single telegram and a photo. He nodded to Twilight and read out loud.

“It was a massacre. Stop. They gouged out the eyes of an entire army of dogs… holy fuck… and sent them to the next den, guided by dogs with…” He looked up to Twilight with a flat, almost hollow expression. “With only a single eye gouged out.” He set the telegram face down and took a look at the photo.

One look was all he needed. He slid it over to Twilight, who noticed the look of utter horror in his eyes.

“That’s it. I’m calling a political summit.” She said, getting up from the chair and storming off, a sense of guilt burning away at her. This is all my fault… let her go too far…

She shut the door behind her, and Gallus got up and locked it, glancing out the peephole just to be sure she was gone.

“Ocellus, you can come out now.” He said, calmly sitting at his desk. His changeling compatriot, best friend and spymaster morphed from a mere fly into Ocellus in a matter of seconds, who greeted her friend with a nod.

“Anything to report?” After glancing around the room a couple times, he pointed to the letter and said “Aside from the obvious.”

“No need to be so paranoid. If there was another changeling, I’d smell their pheromones long before you found them just by looking around.” With a wide grin on her face, she looked into the (apparently) empty corner of the room and yelled, “Isn’t that right, Ovipositor Jim?”

Gallus snorted out a chuckle and exclaimed an affectionate “Shut uuuup!” with a playful punch to her shoulder. After sharing a friendly giggle, he said “Alright, really. Cut the shit. Did FF-?”

“All taken care of. Those buffoons are set up to take the fall. If she figures anything out, they’ll be the ones facing… her wrath.” She said, and Gallus sighed.

“Seriously? Are we so afraid of Leona that we aren’t even using her name anymore?”

“Last I heard, people are calling her Godmother.” She said, and Gallus facepalmed.

“Well… Heh, this oughta knock her down a peg.” he said, steepling his hands with a smug grin… which then promptly fell because he realized that his friend was glaring at him.

“You never told me that was done out of personal animosity.” He began to sweat a little. “And don’t try to lie to me. I can taste your emotions.” her stern glare never let up, and she did feel genuinely hurt.

“Oh, come on now. You saw what she did, she deserves whatever comes to her!” he, also, had a point.

“I thought I had my network of spies doing this for the good of Equestria. Do you realize what kind of scandal this would create if it gets out?” Her voice cracked and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “Gallus, I trusted you! I thought we were trying to properly bring her to justice!” She yelled at him, and Gallus was quite happy he got those soundproofed walls.

He nervously stuttered and she yelled, “What was that bullshit story about working out a plan with the dogs to use the dynamite to cordon off areas of the mine and help with the defense!?”

He scoffed. “Ocellus, you’re extremely smart. Extremely.” He took a swig of gin, “But lemme tell ya somethin’; you’re naive! Same as Twilight and same as Thorax! And we can’t afford no friggin’ naive bullshit!” His inner Fertilian boiled to the surface, aggressively crossing his arms in defiance.

“I’m still bound by oath to serve the Equestrian Crown, as part of the Changeling Vassalage Pact…” She then huffed, getting out of her seat and turning around. “Thorax will hear about this overstepping of boundaries. What he does with this information is up to him.” Before she slammed the door behind her, “No further reports.” She grumbled out.

Gallus just glared at the door intensely, taking a gulp of gin and launching the flask into the corner out of frustration.

“For. Fucks. Sake.”

---

Far to the north and tucked away in a small valley with a lake was a villa. But it was no ordinary villa, nooo.

No. This villa belonged to Celestia. In fact, she was having afternoon tea on her balcony when Twilight decided to visit. She greeted her best pupil with a smile and a quick hug.

“Take a seat. Tell me- what’s on your mind?” The former princess asked. “My dearest Twilight.”

“It’s… it’s about Leona.” She said, and Celestia snorted.

“When isn’t it?” Twilight, still so unused to her mentor being so casual, had to snap herself out of a trance. “Are you still unused to my… casual mannerisms?” She said with a giggle.

“Yes. Probably always will be.” Twilight said with a sheepish grin, and Celestia muttered maybe not under her breath. If you looked closely at her, her mane wasn’t as illustrious as it used to be and she had creases beneath her eyes. Her connection to the sun had been growing weaker for a long time now, which is why she needed a pupil in the first place.

At first, Twilight was a necessity… but as the years went on, retirement seemed more and more appealing to her. Especially with… everything that’s happened since the return of her sister…

“Twilight. Allow me to be frank with you.” She said with a faint smile. “Needless to say, this doesn’t leave here.” The solar princess gazed longingly at the lake below her villa.

“Of course… Celly.” she said with a nervous grin.

“The world beyond my villa? Could be burning as we speak.” She said flatly, and Twilight's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “And you know what? I can’t even bring myself to care. Maybe I should be worried about that fact but…” She then shrugged, lighting up a long wooden tobacco pipe.

“How… how could you say such a thing!?” Celestia glanced off to the side at this outburst.

“Twilight, you must understand.” She took a drag of her pipe and let it out with a sigh. “For six thousand years, my flanks have been attached to a throne, and by extension, its people. That throne moved many times, survived countless assassination attempts, countless villains bent on world domination. Literally billions of foes routed.” She had a proud grin, leaning back in her chair and twiddling her pipe.

“Even after I banished my sister, do you know how hard it was to recover from that shitshow?” Once again, Twilight was taken aback. Not at the swear itself, no- the fact that it came from Celestia is what had her shook. “It was hard, but that’s besides the point. But after I’d gotten that all taken care of, one morning, I woke up. Went about my day. Had coffee, solved some minor dispute between nobles, goodness knows what it was about. Probably something silly like land. At the end of the day, when I was laying in bed, I’d finally realized something.”

Slowly, she rose from her chair, groaning at the dull ache in her joints. Leaning against the balcony railing, she smiled. “I’d finally done it. There was no scandalous murder, no threats of war on the horizon, even the Confederacy was calm. None of my friends had been assassinated and no one tried to do me in! Though to be honest, that hadn’t happened in a long time at that point.” Her smile fell slowly. “Then I realized. What now? I looked back on everything I did, all the corpses in my path… I’d made it to the top. Where was my fulfillment?” She said with a shrug.

“Celestia… I had no idea…” Twilight had a sad look but Celestia still looked indifferent, keeping that same motherly smile. She approached Twilight and pulled her into a hug.

“Apologies. Didn’t mean to get so depressing there.” her grin was sheepish, “I think what I’m getting at is that Equestria is yours to do with as you see fit. But if you wish for aid, you only need ask my sister or I. Or, don’t.” She pulled back with a giggle, taking a seat in her chair. “You need a general? An advisor? Even a soldier? Let me know, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “You’d let me field you as a soldier?” She asked incredulously.

Celestia snorted… which turned into a giggle… which turned into a full-on belly laugh.

“Ohh, dearest, dearest Twilight. You think you know everything about me, yet you know so little.” She flipped her pipe around and pointed it at her, “But don’t feel bad, friend. I got a small head start, hardly something to write home about.” She laughed and Twilight giggled.

“Alright, stop letting me talk about myself. Spill it!” She said excitedly, taking a drag from her pipe. Though she was uninterested in watching the world's affairs like a hawk in the way she used to, she still liked to hear the news from time to time.

Twilight explained the circumstances and Celestia’s smile fell instantly. Despite the terrible-ness… she couldn’t help but feel impressed at the sheer level of cold-blooded pragmatism. They can’t fight, they can’t work, they’re completely helpless… a constant drain on resources that will never make its way back into the economy. Not only that- it takes people away from production elsewhere to take care of the wounded masses. Yes, it was an extremely evil thing to do… and as ashamed as she is to admit it, she couldn’t help but think of a couple historic armies that could’ve used the same punishment.

But what really caught her attention is what Twilight added at the end.

“Oh, and for some reason, some of my spies also took photos of Leona and her wife…” Her entire face resembled an apple, “Hugging. Very tight.”

“Ohh! And do tell me, what’re you planning with those photos?” Twilight snorted and Celestia's grin fell.

“Burn them, probably. Eugh… you won’t believe what she was using that parasite tongue for!”

Calmly, the solar diarch took a sip of tea and sat up straight in her chair. At this moment, Twilight realized that was the wrong answer.

“Why would you deny yourself an advantage that Leona would absolutely use against you?”

Maybe it was time for one final lesson with her pupil; pragmatism. And here she thought it a good idea to leave her student to her own devices. Guess she was too eager to retire.

---

A wagon slowly went down a lonely trail. Late in the evening, where the sun began to set. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Then, suddenly, a band of diamond dog brigands emerged from the bushes. They wore clothes made of griffon bones and hide, brandishing gnarly looking swords and clubs… but most obvious was the tartan kilts they wore.

The family screamed in terror as they were descended upon.

“CUT!” Dee yelled through a megaphone, and the clack of a clapper board rang out. The dog's faces, which previously looked enraged and rabid, fell to a calmer, more neutral expression. “Alright boys, that’s about enough for today.” She called out, and the cast and crew began to help with packing everything away for the day.

You may be wondering how she got a bunch of diamond dogs to help her with this project? Well, it’s simple. Throw a dog a bone and that. That, and promises of being able to sleep in a proper bed were more than enough to get a bunch of them to sign up… and become traitors to their species.

“MARIA!” She yelled for her personal assistant, who wasted no time in appearing by her side. “You mind grabbing my stuff?”

“Yes, mistress.” She said, plainly yet enthusiastically. She was a griffon- in her early 20s with a petite build and a curvy… Well, let’s just say that Dee finds herself lagging behind her assistant more often than she’d care to admit. She hired her about two weeks ago, when the filming was about to start.

The hiring criteria was simple- someone who was desperate for a job and couldn’t quit even if she wanted to. As Leona would put it- I’m gonna make her an offer she can’t refuse.

They made their way back to her private carriage, surrounded by a posse of armed guards. The carriage had solid steel walls and it took six full-size griffon men to pull.

Once she was seated and the carriage was moving, Maria handed her a notebook, and Dee regarded it with a wide grin, flipping it open and jotting things down on one of the pages.

“Filming’s almost complete. Just gotta splice it all together, get some voiceover recordings, and we are golden.” She closed it up and gestured to the radio, “You did charge this, right?” She asked Maria, who nodded.

“Gooood. Put some jazz on, would’ya? I'm in a sort of… saxophone mood tonight.” She leaned back and said, “And pour me a glass of wine… I’m thinking something… sweet.” Her assistant turned on the radio and grabbed a bottle out of the storage compartment.

“Ohh, I’ve heard lovely things about this Year 995 Catlian vintage.” She said, uncorking the bottle and pouring a glass for her mistress.

Dee took a sip of the wine and sighed. “Someday, Maria, you’ll work as hard as I’ve worked, and you’ll be livin’ like this, lemme tell ‘ya.” Thankfully, Dee was resting her eyes- otherwise, she might have seen her assistant roll her eyes at her, wondering if she’d be better off taking her chances with homelessness.

In the castle, they made their way to Dee’s office, noting how empty the place seemed.

She didn’t care though. She was happy to finally take a seat in her office chair, her giant mahogany desk facing the door. In fact, the desk was so large you could have someone hide beneath it and not even see them from the doorway.

For this reason, she kept the door unlocked. The guards would deter any unwanted visitors, anyway. No. My guards.

“It’s good being on top, Maria G.” She wasn’t sure why she included her last initial, it just flowed off the tongue better. “Good indeed.”

Oh, for the record? Her last name happens to be Galloway. What a funny coincidence!

Her assistant poured her another glass of wine, which she sipped with a faint smile.

“Tell ya what, Maria. There’s a bit that fell under my desk- mind grabbing it? I’ll even let you keep it if you want.” Dee gave her a sultry grin and a giggle. As soon as her face was beneath that desk, she couldn’t help but hold back her look of disgust.

“There’s no bit down here- AH!” She said, feeling two hooves grab her flanks.

“Keep lookin! It’s there!” Dee bit her lip when she looked down. She muttered, “You keep lookin’ for as long as you like, sweet cheeks.” A light slap to the flank almost made her bump her head. “Still no bit?”

It took every fiber of her being to suppress the groan. “No, ma’am.”

“Must’ve been my imagination, then. Tell ya what- while you’re down there, I got an itch.” She said, slowly spreading her legs apart and slouching in her chair.

She didn’t even wait for a response, she already knew exactly what to do.

“You have no idea how nice an actual tongue feels…” She put two hooves to her assistant's head, holding it in place. “Ooh! Oh, right there! Hah!” after a few seconds that way, she felt something sharp down there.

“FUCK!” SLAP “FUCKIN’ WATCH IT! Dumb broad!” she groaned in annoyance and mumbled, “You’re supposed to suckle, not bite. I’d give you a demonstration, but I don’t want my face anywhere near a filthy peasant like yourself. Cunt.”

Part of the reason Maria took this job is because she’d met her current boss's wife one time and heard about her in the papers… She thought this would be a dream job.

Turns out it was a nightmare far beyond her comprehension. She hated every second of it and she couldn’t even leave. She tried to once.

Dee made it very fucking clear that wasn’t allowed. She said it was for National Security, but it had a very threatening undercurrent, suggesting that certain people would not see her alive on her own.

A knock was heard at the door. A familiar one- three consecutive knocks, followed by a pause and two brisk strokes.

“Shit, get down!” She said, slapping her in the face again. She quickly straightened herself out and pulled herself forward, leaving very little room for Maria.

“Come in, Jimmy.”

“Good evening, Empress.” Jimmy was one of the first people in the castle she got in on her whole plan, and the captain of the guard, no less! He wore the armband and pin on his lapel, as is common for members of the party.

“I bring wonderful news! The king will be gone for a political summit for the next week.” Dee’s eyes widened. If her snatch wasn’t still wet, she’d have jumped out of her chair in excitement.

“YES! PERFECT!” This was fantastic news! Since the king was gone, she can include the anti- Grover messages in the film, and start converting the masses to her cause! “Have the studio start working on voiceovers immediately. We need this shit done yesterday! And make sure to use the contingency script!”

“This late at night?” Jim said, his smile never failing.

“Double, fuckin’ triple their pay if you have to! I don’t give a shit, just get it done!” the officer simply nodded and put a fist in the air.

“It will be done.” He said, making his leave and shutting the door behind him. Dee idly swatted a fly that landed on her shoulder away and scooted back.

“Now… where were we? Your Empress demands a… celebration. Preferably with a happy ending.”

It felt good being the Empress.

Celestia? More like
Depressed-ia
I mean, come on. You don't live that old without eventually losing a sense of purpose.

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

Also- as it turns out, being allied with a species that can change form at will is fantastic for espionage :3

As always, thank you for reading! Likes and comments are always very much appreciated :3