Chapter 20
Princess Celestia, seeing a tall human hunched over Maeve’s bed, almost went blind with rage. Reaching out with her mind, she grabbed the human male and slammed him up against the wall with terrific force, hoping to stun him, but not kill him. Next, she disarmed him, pulling away a long sword from his belt, a short sword, and a dagger, tossing them aside.
Then, Celestia placed a band of telekinesis around his throat as she moved forward. Flames flickered from her eyes and danced along the length of her horn as she drew closer. She was worried about Maeve, but did not dare take her eyes off of the stranger, who was looking at her with bright violet eyes.
It took Celestia several moments before she realised, this was no human. Taller, thinner, more slender of build. Chiseled features… and pointed ears. Not human at all. Celestia drew in a deep breath. She was prepared to kill if necessary, but hoped that bloodshed could be avoided.
“You will answer all of my questions. You will do as I bid. If I am not satisfied with your answers, make no mistake, I will kill you for your intrusion and for harming something I hold dear. You will die… slowly.”
“I did Maeve no harm, I assure you. I give you my word,” the figure replied.
“I WILL BE THE ONE TO DETERMINE THAT!” Celestia roared, almost spitting.
“I am grateful that Maeve has such dedicated protectors,” the figure said in a raspy voice as the telekinetic band around his throat tightened. “Kill me if you must, but then you will get no answers, and I have many.”
“Who are you? Tell me your name! Now!” Celestia stepped closer and applied painful force to her telekinesis. “If you lie to me, I will know.”
“Names have power… but I see that I have very little choice.” The tall figure, held in Celestia’s magic, began to squirm and gag as the pressure upon the whole of his body increased. “My name is Bjarke.”
“What are you?” Celestia’s voice was now a low, dangerous sounding hiss.
“I am one of the very last of the ljásálfar…” Bjarke closed his eyes and struggled to draw breath, his face now turning a painful shade of purple. When the magical force around his throat relaxed just the tiniest bit, he sucked in a much needed bit of air and then locked his eyes upon the strange horse creature in front of him. “In many worlds, my kind are known as elves… the ljásálfar are the Elves of the White… we are the mortal enemies of the Dokkálfar, the Elves of the Black. We are also at war with the Unseelie Court, the wretched monsters responsible for hurting Maeve… we are losing these battles… if you… kill me… there will be one less ljásálfar in existence, and the darkness will grow stronger.”
“Who are you that you know Maeve?” Celestia asked, her eyes narrowing.
Bjarke blinked and sucked in a little more air. The pressure upon his ribcage was still almost too much to bear. “I am Maeve’s uncle… I am her mother’s brother… there is a long story here and it will be much easier to tell if you are not slowly crushing me to death… you know my true name and I give you my word, I am not here to harm you… I have come to look after my niece, and to tell her of her heritage.”
“How did you come to be here?” Celestia demanded as she relaxed some of her hold upon the frail looking hominoid she had pressed against the wall.
“I am a wizard of some skill… I confess, I did something untoward and I plan to beg forgiveness for it as soon as I can… I was able to touch Maeve’s mind a few times, but she was not strong enough to pull me through. Not until just recently… her mind became less guarded and I was able to reach through the astral realm to place a compulsion spell upon her,” Bjarke replied, offering a sparse explanation of his actions.
Scowling, Princess Celestia realised that Maeve’s current medicated state had allowed this to happen. So far, Bjarke had been utterly honest in each of his replies and Princess Celestia could sense no trace of malice in him, no hostility. She saw his eyes dart over to Maeve’s limp form and then look back at her.
“My sister fell in love with a mortal. She gave up her gift, her blessing… it left her shamefully weak and without magic. She loved him though, for whatever reason. I tried to tell her that it wasn’t worth it, that these things always end in heartache, that mortals cannot bear to love our kind, it always drives them mad and ends in tragedy. She refused to listen to me.”
Tears fell from Bjarke’s eyes and Princess Celestia felt a pang in her heart. She did not relax her guard however. She heard the shuffling of her guardsponies all around her.
“I know that she died, I felt her passing, I was in another realm at the time, another world. I was engaged in something that I gave my word that I would see through.” Bjarke’s eyes squeezed shut. “I was mad with grief… I disgraced myself as a warrior… I killed unworthy foes rather than grant mercy and I acted without honour… but I finished my task. When I went to the world where my sister Maeve had settled, I found a madman left rotting in an asylum and little Maeve was gone. I have spent the last year trying to reach my niece… your realm is very, very far away from everything else.” Bjarke opened his eyes. “I know what happened to Maeve… I pulled his thoughts from his mind… I am sickened by what I saw… all he could see was Maeve’s mother… she haunted his thoughts. I killed him as an act of mercy, but I will confess to taking some satisfaction in the act of killing him for what he did to my niece.”
“I am very sorry that you found out the truth,” Princess Celestia said as she lowered Bjarke down to the floor and allowed his feet to touch the stones.
“You have looked after my niece… been her caretaker… been her guardian. I know that she was trapped in Tír na hÓige… I owe you a great deal… for the kindness you have given her, I offer you one hundred years of my life,” Bjarke said to Celestia as he balanced on his feet.
“I cannot accept—”
“It is already given. I pay my debts… I must pay my debts, you know my name… you do not understand how much I will suffer if you do not accept my service,” Bjarke said in a now frantic voice. He kneeled down at the strange horse creature’s hooves.
“We can talk about this later,” Princess Celestia said. She backed away from the strange human-like figure that kneeled before her. She lifted a wing, made a gesture, and the gathered guards began to back away. “For now, Elf of the White, you are my guest until I figure out what I wish to do with you.”
Turning her head, Princess Celestia looked down at Maeve. The girl had a blissful smile upon her face. She was also different. Taller. Maeve had sprouted a good half a foot in height by the looks of it. Long pointed ears poked out from her frizzy orange hair. “What did you do to her?”
“I did nothing, I assure you… it was her magic, it burned away some of her humanity, exposing her half-elven heritage… I would never bring harm to her,” Bjarke replied, still kneeling.
Princess Celestia lowered her head. Maeve’s left arm looked funny. It had turned brown and it looked rough, like brown paper. Peering through squinted eyes, Princess Celestia had a closer look. Maeve’s arm was covered in tree bark, or it appeared to be that way. It was confusing, to say the very least. Even more confusing was the fact that Maeve had all of her fingers once more. She lifted her head and looked at Bjarke.
“Maeve’s arm was badly burned… she lost a finger in a battle of wills with her enchanted sword and she recently burned off part of another finger trying to use magic. Now she is covered in what appears to be bark. What do you know of this?”
Bowing his head, Bjarke swallowed, closing his eyes, and then replied, “We ljásálfar descend from tree spirits… when Maeve awoke her slumbering elven nature, her body regenerated what was damaged. She is lucky… half elves rarely recover… this was likely a once in a lifetime occurrence.” The kneeling elf opened his eyes and looked at his niece.
“But why does it look like wood?” Celestia asked, still confused.
“Because… it is wood,” Bjarke replied.
Celestia took a step towards Bjarke. “Do you mean to tell me that Maeve’s arm is now made of wood from the elbow down?”
The still kneeling elf nodded. “Living wood. If you were to cut it, she would bleed sap.”
“Suddenly so many things about Maeve make sense,” Celestia said, thinking of Maeve and her affinity for earth ponies. Celestia thought of Fuschia and Red Russet. She stared at Bjarke. “Stop kneeling. Get up.”
Doing as he was bid, Bjarke rose. He stood still, unmoving, awaiting further instructions. He was a tall figure, thin, almost fragile looking. After a long few moments of studying the horse creature, he dared to move, he raised his right hand and brushed his long, silky, silvery white hair away from his face. “Might I ask you what manner of creature you are?”
“I am Princess Celestia, Alicorn of the Sun,” Celestia replied.
Bjarke bowed, bending at the middle, his arms lifting away from his sides in a courtly manner. He rose, moving slow, a creature of lithe grace. “Majesty, you appear to be a type of horse.”
“I am a pony.” Princess Celestia sniffed. “You are ignorant so I will forgive you for calling me a horse.”
“Majesty, I would never slight you on purpose. I am your dutiful servant.” Bjarke folded his arms behind his back and stood straight. “You must be a kind and benevolent ruler to have taken in my niece, as strange as she must be to you. For this, I am grateful. I owe you much.”
“Sorceress Maeve has proven her worth. She freed my sister from the grip of the fae.” Princess Celestia felt flattered by the charming old fashioned mannerisms of Bjarke, but she would never admit it.
“Unseelie… fallen fae. Bad fae.” Bjarke’s face contorted with revulsion and disgust.
“You have not yet asked for your weapons back,” Princess Celestia said as she stared Bjarke in the eye. “For a warrior, such things are of importance. I am surprised that you have made no move to reclaim them.”
Bjarke’s unfolded his arms from behind his back and lifted his hands. Blue flames danced from his fingertips. “I am not unarmed. Plus, I am surrounded by dangerous looking ponies wearing armor. I believe I am quite safe. You will tell me to pick up my swords when it is time.” He wiggled his fingers, the flames died, and then Bjarke folded his hands behind his back once more.
“Bjarke, I want you to sit in a chair and then I would like for you to guard Maeve until she wakes. I will be sitting here with you, and we shall continue talking. Before you make yourself comfortable, please, pick up your swords and place them on that table, but whatever you do, do not touch Maeve’s sword. It will hurt you,” Celestia said.
“As you command,” Bjarke replied as he unfolded his arms and moved to collect his weapons.
Princess Celestia watched as the elf picked up his long sword, his short sword, and the long dagger. He made no effort to put them back on, but did as she asked, setting them down upon Maeve’s table.
“Guards, you may leave us. I wish to speak to our guest in private,” Celestia said in a commanding tone. “Four of you may position yourselves outside of Sorceress Maeve’s door.”
The guard began to file out of the room, hooves thudding, armor clanking.
“Now, Bjarke, I wish to know more about you…”
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It means "bear" or "strong bear", a common name used in Denmark.
It is, also, the name of a famous architet.
6319280
Know anything about lycanthropes?
6319297 Only the little I remember from my time playing World of Darkness line of RPG´s. Lycans are not only werewolfs, but pretty much any animal. Including bears.
6319304
In old Norsk, Bjarke actually translates out as 'God of Bears.' At least, that is what I remember from my mythology classes.
6319313 It fits...a bear is naturally strong, to say that one is a strong bear implies that he/she is above the average bears, a god between then, if you stretch the meaning a little.
I don't know Kudzu's nutty noodle as well as I previously thought.
6319455
Mwahahahahahahah
So Maeve is a half-elf. I was honestly hoping for Daan. Aw well beggars can't be choosers.
6319476
Daan? Refresh my memory.
6319481 Okay I definitely think I mispelled that.
Anyway Irish mythology has these like demigod-ish faeries that sound an awful lot like angels without the feathery wings. These guys are called Mu'twatha Da'nan (better?)...basically the lady of the lake was one of these guys.
Damn good warriors and scholars...my dad wrote Arthurian fan fiction about these guys so I don't know a lot about the original source material...he did have a lot of theories about them...like how they were supposedly an actual celtic tribe or something...really wish I paid more attention.
6319607
Hmm... I am familiar with the Tuatha Dé Danann. I'll have to do me some googling.
Norse elves? Yes.
Also, hopefully Maeve can now find out how to work some of her magic mojo on Russet, give him tree bones or something.
Bjarke was not the elf I was expecting, but he may be the elf we need
I continue to enjoy how this story is developing. I look forward to the next chapter.
6319624 Yeah I think that's how you spell it.
'niece'.
Oooh, this was an interesting turn. I kind of suspected she had Elven blood! I'm interested to see how this plays out once she wakes up. Perhaps her wooden arm will give her a 'wand' of sorts, enabling her to better control her magic.
Or perhaps Bjarke will teach her the proper way. After all, what's good for ponies might not work for fae.
I think... that Celestia really should not let her wake to Bjarke. Maybe it's been long enough that she might not freak out, and she's been ambivalent on it, but she also pretty recently was really happy there were no men.
I assume that elfmen would be just as shocking as a human man, though.
Huh. A wooden arm.
Imagine punching someone in the face with a wooden arm.
Well, that's convenient. Not just a potential tutor for Maeve's magic, but a strong male figure who can, in time, act as an antidote to her father. In time. I imagine it's going to pretty darn awkward at first, to say nothing of Maeve's reaction to her growth spurt.
I do like the bit about the rapport between earth ponies and nature spirits. Makes sense to me.
6324120
"How did you get splinters in your black eye?"
"Well..."
It also gives the phrase "branching out" a whole new meaning for Maeve when she helps with the little foals.
Get it? Branching out, reaching out, wooden arm, branch, tree...
...
Okay, I'll be in the corner...
Bear? The closest word I know is Bjorne which translates to Bear.
And goody! I have been lacking in fantasy of my reading recently.
Ah, so he father WASN'T a piece of shit monster, like we thought. He was literally driven insane by the loss of her mother, and wasn't whole of mind. That explains a lot.
So, reading through this another time, I find I'm not quite sure what is causing Luna's issues.
On a somewhat-related tangent, what folklore are you drawing inspiration from, specifically? I am only familiar with the term "Tuatha Dé Danann" from Full Metal Panic, and Fae in general from Video games and fics/books like these. One of my favorite series, Isavalta by Sarah Zettel, had a melting pot of Baba Yaga, Kitsune, and the Chinese/Japanese Four Saint beasts! So I'm not exactly sure if the Fae are particular to one culture or region, or if hey are more a common class found among many cultures.
One thing they tend to have in common is their inability to lie and being finicky about rules. Whether said rules could be considered "magic" or more like (super)natural laws...
I'm also not sure why Luna had no magic on Earth, so I'm then wondering if Luna also had no magic in the Fae Realm, or if their brands carried some magical/supernatural compulsions upon Maeve and Luna. Magic that might be exacerbating Luna's mood swings.