Prolonged Reflections (Pt. 1)

//AU of Vanil set within a theoretical timeline within the mirror world of the IDW run of MLP. Beep beep mentions of canon character(s), mediocre writing and cringe up ahead. You've been warned//

The murmurs and chatter in the throne room continued long after the stranger (you) had left the court. Vanil hadn't come to an absolute decision, yet, but for the moment they (you) are to be treated with hospitality, albeit with extremely limited access on castle grounds. A single tap on the armrest of her throne, and a wave of her hoof, unicorn queen dismissed the court with a reassuring smile. Advisors bowed, guards withdrew, and the great doors sealed with a low, resonant hum that lingered longer than usual. Silence reclaimed the hall. Only then did she allow herself to ponder on all that had transpired so far. Her eyes gazed across the chamber, measured and quiet. Eyes unmoving within a throne room that had been modified with a fusion of two identities, or depending on perspective, the tacking of one over the other. The underlying architecture: arched, hexagonal patterns, unmistakably of hive origin and the warm, familiar banners, and furnishing of pony design. Above her, filtered light slipped through sparse skylines carved through the mountain itself, allowing sunlight to reflect off the still polished surfaces of the floors to light up the entire room. It was awe-inspiring, to say the least, even to those who have called the castle home for while at this point. The skylines and all manner of quirks of the interior, everything was intentional, unlike the stranger's appearance in the heart of the castle.  Past the outer tunnels. The patrols. Past wards layered over years. Past other security redundancies she had insisted upon which bordered on paranoia. Past...it. Past everything she had built here. Vanil exhaled slowly, relaxing her tense jaws, and let her gaze shift back to the skylines, in hopes to further clear her mind. Beyond the mountain’s base lay the front: the shell kingdom of Emrald, once known to many as The Hollow Shades. Not the most creative name, admittedly, but the people have spoken and the name stuck. Relatively new, small, and unassuming, but precisely as visible as it needed to be. Trade caravans came and went, trading salt from deep mineral seams, and gems (hence the name) mined from the mountain’s veins in exchange for, the most part, foodstuffs. No one looked too closely at a kingdom that offered such value and asked for little, especially one coveted by far larger, stronger kingdoms as a promising trade ally. An upstart, yes, but a sensible one given its location and exports. A (mostly) neutral trading hub is the insurance. Its protection.  And before it all. Deeper within the ranges of Foal Mountains... An entire hidden population of crystal ponies who had followed one mare into uncertainty, whom now lived within walls that were never meant for them, but kept them safe nonetheless. This former hive kingdom runs with its own politics. Emrald is the cheerful veneer covering the shaky stability only Vanil knew. Her mind began reflecting on something else: her allies. Vanil’s jaw tightened slightly. The list had never been long, nor did it need to be. Discretion demanded restraint, after all. The dragons remain the most potent steadfast ally of Emrald, though the origin of their alliance are essentially from the import of high-quality gemstones. Yakyakistan, who also import gems, remained untrustworthy but neutral, for the gems they procured were to be tribute for The Crystal Empire. Almost no news from King Sombra, and no scouts could make it past the joint blockades set by Canterlot and The Crystal Empire. Rumor has it that he had a similar encounter with someone from the other side, and that was what grew the ire of two kingdoms. Who truly knows? But it must have been of such significance that the diarchs of Canterlot personally oversaw this blockade. No responses from the Diamond Dogs, or Chrysalis, the kirins or the southern enclaves. She did not resent them, though their absence was difficult to ignore. Each silence narrowed her margins in properly securing Emrald, and with it, the hive. Options were running low, and none of the ones available happen to be all that appealing. It could be her ever-present paranoia, but Vanil believes that at some point, one way or another, rumors of the hive will spread. When it does, those not in the know might start looking closer, and dig. Cadence would notice, if she hadn't noticed already... Vanil’s expression shifted from tense but deadpan, to a slight scowl, not one of anger, but one with recognition. Fear shaped Cadence’s rule, among her subjects and herself. On her end, the fear wasn't irrational, but the kind that lingered, informed decisions, sharpened her perception. It made her careful, watchful, and ever so persistent. She had perfected the use of fear on herself so that she may better utilize the fear she casts upon those beneath her. Given time, she would follow the threads. Trade routes. Supply lines. Ears to the ground on possible quiet alliances. None would be safe. Anything that didn't add up would be a wound upon Vanil, and Cadence would be the hound tracking the blood, and it wouldn't just be because of some hidden hive kingdom full of her former subjects. This, Vanil is aware, more so than any one else in Equestria... To be continued. Brain is fritters. Headache popping like kettle corn