

Princess Luna Offline

Always in my sister's

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Cutie Mark: A moon, in darkness

Cutie Mark: A moon, in darkness Shadow Admin

Posts: 102





Fillydelphia

Shadow AdminFillydelphia



I should begin with some context. I have been occupied for the past several nights hosting a diplomatic delegation from the Zebra lands. They are visiting our lands with a formal complaint about our celestial scheduling, and as the matter at hoof is more properly my domain than my sister's, she asked me to step into my formal role as Princess of the Night to address their concerns. This has been the first opportunity for me to take such an active diplomatic role since my return, so I wished to give it my unrestrained effort.



Though a formal complaint, I can hardly say the matter at hoof is serious. Their issue has been a recurring one for several generations. The combination of their longitude with our historical lunar timing is such that on their primary trading days, the tides ill favor commerce at their main port, and the shine of the moon is insufficient to aid in work after dark. Every decade or so, as the protests of their merchant class simmer into a boil, this issue becomes a flashpoint, and the political class placates them by sending a delegation to Equestria to address it.



Now, celestial scheduling is a tricky business with many possibilities of unintended consequences; it is not something to be trifled with on the complaint of money-seekers hewing to inefficient schedules. But the zebra have ever been gracious allies; historically, my sister has treated them with respect, hosted some feasts and entertainment, and offered some minor lateral concessions as a gesture of friendship. I recognize the wisdom of this and have agreed with her to seamlessly continue that tradition.



Over the years, the wisest of the zebras have come to understand our position, yet sapient nature being what it is, the rabblerousers' complaints never wholly settle. So there has developed an unspoken understanding with the elders of that nation; the zebras have evolved these missions of complaint into a method of instilling in their headstrong young politicians an appreciation of the subtle art of diplomacy.



These young diplomats come to us asking the impossible, and squaring off directly against the canniest possible negotiations of a patient and wily immortal. Given the assured failure of their mission, their performance is ultimately judged based upon the creativity and value of what incentives they do manage to wring from us.



Moonday was the centerpiece of their trip, a lavish party in which they rubbed noses with the Canterlot nobility, cementing bonds with their direct trading partners in our lands, and tugging at those bonds as a source of indirect pressure against me. For once, I was able to participate fully in one of the nobility's soirées without resentment; knowing the nature of the zebras' visit made it something of a game, stepping in to counter the intricate plans they sought to unfold, and observing the ebb and flow of negotiation. (It is amazing what that detachment can accomplish. Looking back at the past several years, it has been difficult for me not to take the nobility's petty spats personally.)



At any rate --



There is more context here, which I must step back to introduce. I will be speaking of a stallion named Discretion; a minor noble with holdings in the distant reaches of the Unicorn Plains. He is an infrequent visitor to Canterlot, and -- I was assured -- true to his name. My sister called him to the palace in an arrangement to assist me.



You may recall the ugly rumors surrounding the long stretches of time I have engaged in our spell of communication. (I mentioned them here, did I not? Or was it all via private discussion?) It came to a head when I



Ultimately, the simplest solution was to control the nature of the rumors rather than to swim against the tide of pony nature. Rather than risk discovery of the truth of otherworldly contact, or allow further latitude for accusations of dark plots for Nightmare Moon's return, what was needed was to set ponies to thinking of an explanation salacious enough to explain my subterfuge; compelling enough to quell speculation; yet harmless enough to blow over without further incident. The solution was clear and elegant (and, ironically, closer to the truth than any lie should have been); provide evidence of a secret romantic liaison.



So Discretion was engaged in my service, to sit within my quarters on an evening when I was occupied at length with these invocations. We arranged for him to depart inconspicuously, at a time when a social event was coincidentally coming to an unanticipated end. Inevitably, he was spotted, and within a night my sister and I were strenuously deflecting questions and protests and irresponsible speculation into Royal Indiscretions. (... Or, more properly, vice versa.)



To weave these elements together, then:



I was approached on Hoofsday night by one of the zebra diplomats -- Variska by name. Through a reckless, amoral, yet brilliant sequence of investigation, subterfuge, and outright illegalities, Variska managed to force from Discretion the truth of our non-liaison. Realizing what she had discovered, she promptly came to me to exchange her silence for the schedule changes (which she had not yet realized exceeded her reach).



I will give her this much credit: It is the closest a zebra has ever come to accomplishing their task.



But, my friends, if you are ever tempted to engage in blackmail, there is one thing which you must never forget. It is a tool of leverage, designed to multiply one's strength by heightening the consequences of opposition. It does so by staking all of one's resources upon the opponent choosing to avoid a losing confrontation. Never, ever, initiate blackmail in a situation where the opponent retains strength to fight. For you will then bear the full brunt of their wrath, and can then only hope that your retributive strike justifies the damage sustained.



Variska accepted my offer of protracted discussion quite readily upon learning exactly the remedies available to a wronged celestial. I hope you will forgive me for omission of details; they are not pleasant, and would make you accessories to state secrets whose burdens you do not deserve.



I woke my sister up, and she was quite pleased to assist me in my explanations -- in excruciating, blood-curdling detail -- of what would occur to her, her family, her tribe, her nation, and the world should Variska ever bring about such a severe and messy diplomatic incident as the one she suggested. I will give the zebra this credit, as well: she retained composure enough to neither break down nor attempt to flee.



My sister then dictated terms of her silence to her. Personal recompense to all those she had wronged in her singleminded pursuit of her prize, and then arrangement to be caught in flagrante delicto with Discretion, to taint any revelations she otherwise might remain tempted to make. In exchange for this humiliation, a major concession, not seen in a generation, and the forced acceptance of leadership of a special new joint Equestrian-Zebran outpost in the Dragon Lands. In other words, a transparent attempt by Equestrian leadership to bury the embarrassment of the Honored Moon's secret lover being caught in a scandalous fling with a foreign national.



And so it goes, and so it goes. The fallout is beginning tonight, cementing even further the tale of my disastrously ill-chosen romance. I have been finding it difficult to put on the proper front of outrage, but fortunately, my own part is more convincing the briefer I make my appearances, and my sister is as consummate an actress as one could wish for. (Though she needs little beyond truth, in setting forth the cold wrath she can feel in protectiveness of myself.)



One major question remains. We have not yet decided upon appropriate consequences for Discretion's failure of confidences. My sister feels that I am entitled to decide, as the injured party, and I am of two minds about it.



On the one hoof, had Variska been less skilled in blackmail or had less instinct for self-preservation, and the information carelessly slipped out, it could have been devastating indeed. I would immediately have lost this connection, and all of you with it, a heartbreak which I scarcely dare contemplate. The consequences for Equestria, in learning of a princess' use of magic long ago made forbidden, would have been equally dire. When dealing with secrets of this magnitude, intentions count for little.



On the other hoof, from what I have been able to piece together, he is a victim in this. Variska drugged him with a concoction stimulating trust, and convinced him that maintaining his silence of the truth of our liaison would directly injure both Equestria and myself. He revealed our lack of tryst in the earnest belief that vouching for my chastity was toward my greater good. As well, his forced coupling, and the discovery thereof, are already wrecking both his life at home and his career in court.



... I am curious as to your thoughts in the matter. I am not certain that there is a good response; and if I am to make a bad one, I wish it to at least be in accord with those in whose name his sacrifice was made.



Fondly,



Luna

Say what you wish about life in Canterlot; one cannot deny that it has a tendency to become interesting upon the spur of a moment ...I should begin with some context. I have been occupied for the past several nights hosting a diplomatic delegation from the Zebra lands. They are visiting our lands with a formal complaint about our celestial scheduling, and as the matter at hoof is more properly my domain than my sister's, she asked me to step into my formal role as Princess of the Night to address their concerns. This has been the first opportunity for me to take such an active diplomatic role since my return, so I wished to give it my unrestrained effort.Though a formal complaint, I can hardly say the matter at hoof is serious. Their issue has been a recurring one for several generations. The combination of their longitude with our historical lunar timing is such that on their primary trading days, the tides ill favor commerce at their main port, and the shine of the moon is insufficient to aid in work after dark. Every decade or so, as the protests of their merchant class simmer into a boil, this issue becomes a flashpoint, and the political class placates them by sending a delegation to Equestria to address it.Now, celestial scheduling is a tricky business with many possibilities of unintended consequences; it is not something to be trifled with on the complaint of money-seekers hewing to inefficient schedules. But the zebra have ever been gracious allies; historically, my sister has treated them with respect, hosted some feasts and entertainment, and offered some minor lateral concessions as a gesture of friendship. I recognize the wisdom of this and have agreed with her to seamlessly continue that tradition.Over the years, the wisest of the zebras have come to understand our position, yet sapient nature being what it is, the rabblerousers' complaints never wholly settle. So there has developed an unspoken understanding with the elders of that nation; the zebras have evolved these missions of complaint into a method of instilling in their headstrong young politicians an appreciation of the subtle art of diplomacy.These young diplomats come to us asking the impossible, and squaring off directly against the canniest possible negotiations of a patient and wily immortal. Given the assured failure of their mission, their performance is ultimately judged based upon the creativity and value of what incentives they do manage to wring from us.Moonday was the centerpiece of their trip, a lavish party in which they rubbed noses with the Canterlot nobility, cementing bonds with their direct trading partners in our lands, and tugging at those bonds as a source of indirect pressure against me. For once, I was able to participate fully in one of the nobility's soirées without resentment; knowing the nature of the zebras' visit made it something of a game, stepping in to counter the intricate plans they sought to unfold, and observing the ebb and flow of negotiation. (It is amazing what that detachment can accomplish. Looking back at the past several years, it has been difficult for me not to take the nobility's petty spats personally.)At any rate --There is more context here, which I must step back to introduce. I will be speaking of a stallion named Discretion; a minor noble with holdings in the distant reaches of the Unicorn Plains. He is an infrequent visitor to Canterlot, and -- I was assured -- true to his name. My sister called him to the palace in an arrangement to assist me.You may recall the ugly rumors surrounding the long stretches of time I have engaged in our spell of communication. (I mentioned them here, did I not? Or was it all via private discussion?) It came to a head when I overheard Upper Crust gossiping . Did I ever speak further of our confrontation? The public reprobation my sister delivered to her upon hearing of the incident? Though that did make the royal position on such rumors quite clear, it could not stop the spread of malicious whispers ...Ultimately, the simplest solution was to control the nature of the rumors rather than to swim against the tide of pony nature. Rather than risk discovery of the truth of otherworldly contact, or allow further latitude for accusations of dark plots for Nightmare Moon's return, what was needed was to set ponies to thinking of an explanation salacious enough to explain my subterfuge; compelling enough to quell speculation; yet harmless enough to blow over without further incident. The solution was clear and elegant (and, ironically, closer to the truth than any lie should have been); provide evidence of a secret romantic liaison.So Discretion was engaged in my service, to sit within my quarters on an evening when I was occupied at length with these invocations. We arranged for him to depart inconspicuously, at a time when a social event was coincidentally coming to an unanticipated end. Inevitably, he was spotted, and within a night my sister and I were strenuously deflecting questions and protests and irresponsible speculation into Royal Indiscretions. (... Or, more properly, vice versa.)To weave these elements together, then:I was approached on Hoofsday night by one of the zebra diplomats -- Variska by name. Through a reckless, amoral, yet brilliant sequence of investigation, subterfuge, and outright illegalities, Variska managed to force from Discretion the truth of our non-liaison. Realizing what she had discovered, she promptly came to me to exchange her silence for the schedule changes (which she had not yet realized exceeded her reach).I will give her this much credit: It is the closest a zebra has ever come to accomplishing their task.But, my friends, if you are ever tempted to engage in blackmail, there is one thing which you must never forget. It is a tool of leverage, designed to multiply one's strength by heightening the consequences of opposition. It does so by staking all of one's resources upon the opponent choosing to avoid a losing confrontation. Never,initiate blackmail in a situation where the opponent retains strength to fight. For you will then bear the full brunt of their wrath, and can then only hope that your retributive strike justifies the damage sustained.Variska accepted my offer of protracted discussion quite readily upon learning exactly the remedies available to a wronged celestial. I hope you will forgive me for omission of details; they are not pleasant, and would make you accessories to state secrets whose burdens you do not deserve.I woke my sister up, and she was quite pleased to assist me in my explanations -- in excruciating, blood-curdling detail -- of what would occur to her, her family, her tribe, her nation, and the world should Variska ever bring about such a severe and messy diplomatic incident as the one she suggested. I will give the zebra this credit, as well: she retained composure enough to neither break down nor attempt to flee.My sister then dictated terms of her silence to her. Personal recompense to all those she had wronged in her singleminded pursuit of her prize, and then arrangement to be caughtwith Discretion, to taint any revelations she otherwise might remain tempted to make. In exchange for this humiliation, a major concession, not seen in a generation, and the forced acceptance of leadership of a special new joint Equestrian-Zebran outpost in the Dragon Lands. In other words, a transparent attempt by Equestrian leadership to bury the embarrassment of the Honored Moon's secret lover being caught in a scandalous fling with a foreign national.And so it goes, and so it goes. The fallout is beginning tonight, cementing even further the tale of my disastrously ill-chosen romance. I have been finding it difficult to put on the proper front of outrage, but fortunately, my own part is more convincing the briefer I make my appearances, and my sister is as consummate an actress as one could wish for. (Though she needs little beyond truth, in setting forth the cold wrath she can feel in protectiveness of myself.)One major question remains. We have not yet decided upon appropriate consequences for Discretion's failure of confidences. My sister feels that I am entitled to decide, as the injured party, and I am of two minds about it.On the one hoof, had Variska been less skilled in blackmail or had less instinct for self-preservation, and the information carelessly slipped out, it could have been devastating indeed. I would immediately have lost this connection, and all of you with it, a heartbreak which I scarcely dare contemplate. The consequences for Equestria, in learning of a princess' use of magic long ago made forbidden, would have been equally dire. When dealing with secrets of this magnitude, intentions count for little.On the other hoof, from what I have been able to piece together, he is a victim in this. Variska drugged him with a concoction stimulating trust, and convinced him that maintaining his silence of the truth of our liaison would directly injure both Equestria and myself. He revealed our lack of tryst in the earnest belief that vouching for my chastity was toward my greater good. As well, his forced coupling, and the discovery thereof, are already wrecking both his life at home and his career in court.... I am curious as to your thoughts in the matter. I am not certain that there is a good response; and if I am to make a bad one, I wish it to at least be in accord with those in whose name his sacrifice was made.Fondly,Luna Back to top IP Logged

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