//------------------------------// // One Part Tradition Two Parts Expectation // Story: My Little Teelo: Masquerade // by Ardwolf //------------------------------// In which we are granted a privileged glimpse behind the Royal Façade. Teagan opened her eyes to darkness. The kind of complete and utter darkness only the blind normally experience. Bereft of vision she was forced to use her ears, straining to hear even the faintest whisper. Only silence met her efforts. Now gripped in a surge of adrenaline she became aware she was laying on something soft, with a warm blanket covering her. But strain as she might she couldn’t see or hear anything. Cautiously extending an arm from the warm cocoon she lay in she felt around, finding only the soft mattress no matter how far she reached—a soft, chilly mattress. She pulled her arm back under the warm covers and made another discovery. She was naked. Oh, that’s just perfect, she sighed. This is the second time I wake up naked in a strange place. Why is Equis trying to turn me into a nudist? Turning her attention inward she was relieved to note Crush’s closed eyes were still in her mind. Hey Crush, wake up! The eyes opened and it seemed to Teagan they were a bit—bleary. What is attacking? Crush growled. Nothing’s attacking. But I’m in the dark in a strange place. What’s going on? You are in your bed in your chambers. Now if you don’t mind I need sleep. That last battle drained you too much, especially fighting the draugr. I had to expend much of my own reserves to keep you active. Good night. The eyes closed. CRUSH, Teagan yelled mentally. Wake UP. I need your help! The eyes opened again and this time Teagan had no trouble seeing the glare directed her way. You’re in no danger. Go back to sleep. You need the rest as much as I do. I can’t see anything, she pointed out. I need my clothes. I need light to see by. I don’t even know where you are. Lying right beside you, Crush said with a sigh. Only you can move me, remember? When Søyle put you to bed she had to lay you in the middle, unbuckle my sheath’s carrying strap then move you over. Fortunately the bed is large enough for us both. Teagan turned over and reached out until her fingers encountered cold metal. With a sigh of relief she picked Crush up and unsheathed it. How about some glow? She asked. I am tired. Crush objected. That takes a lot of energy you know. Why don’t I just let you use my eyes instead? I can see perfectly well right now. You can do that? Teagan asked, blinking in the darkness. Would I have offered if I could not? Crush retorted grumpily. Ok, what do I do to see through your eyes? You do nothing, Crush retorted. The room suddenly lit up giving Teagan her first look at the chamber. She blinked several times, feeling as though her eyes wanted to water. The chamber was huge, perhaps fifty feet on a side. The bed itself was at least ten feet by ten, the blanket and spread equally large. She took a moment to study the bedspread, amazed at the intricate black designs woven into the golden background. She fingered the material, feeling the softness of the pattern, almost like yarn and the slipperiness of the background, similar to silk or nylon. She bet it was expensive, it just screamed quality fit for a king. Or Queen, she thought with a chuckle. She was about four feet away from the nearest edge of the bed so she scooted over and slipped off the tall mattress to stand barefoot on the stone floor. She shivered as the cool air hit her bare skin. “Man, its cold in here.” Teagan complained as she hugged herself. “Wonder what the temperature is?” Hejm stays the same temperature year round, Crush informed her. Trolls seem to find it comfortable. I’m a human, remember? Teagan thought crossly. I want my clothes. Do you know where they are? Søyle took the clothes you brought with you. But before she left she laid out the queen’s traditional raiment and regalia on the desk. “Well, it’s bound to be warmer than my birthday suit,” she said aloud. “Ah, there it is!” She hurried over to the desk to find a pile of cloth, leather, and metal. “Oh you have got to be kidding me!” She grimaced as she held up the first garment, a halter, just like every troll woman she’d ever met wore. She laid Crush on the desk to free up her other hand. It’s harder to share my eyes if you aren’t holding me, Crush complained. “Sorry, I need my hands to get dressed,” Teagan said aloud as she studied the halter. It was more of the silky material like the bedspread, only a deep vibrant purple with fiery red lines forming intricate knotwork that looked Celtic to Teagan’s untrained eye. The inside of the garment was lined with more of the purple silky material. The other cloth turned out to be a loincloth, also like the ones she’d seen troll women wearing. This one was also purple with red knotwork. This time she spotted a pair of dragon heads enmeshed in the lines of the knotwork. Tying the garment carefully she tried for maximum coverage, but there was only so much cloth to be had. With a grumble she finally decided nothing more could be done and picked up a set of gold and emerald encrusted straps with intricately carved rings clearly intended to hang equipment from. Hey Crush, you know how this works? She asked, holding up the harness as she examined it. Straps over the shoulders, belt around the waist, the demon replied laconically, all strap buckles in front. Hurry up. The quicker you’re dressed the faster I can get back to sleep. Teagan sighed but struggled into the weird harness. After a couple of bad starts she finally got the thing on, buckling the belt around her waist, a second strap just below her shoulders and a third strap between the other two. With all the straps buckled it pulled the shoulder straps snuggly together, making the harness feel less like a collection of straps and more like a weird kind of jacket. This left only the jewelry. The first piece was a headband made of gold, a massive heavy band that looked like it would fit her but weighed nearly five pounds. It was absolutely crawling with all kinds of intricate designs, with a single point that had to mark the front of the band. A pair of rubies set one above the other adorned the front of the point. Sighing again she lifted it onto her head—and was shocked as the weight instantly disappeared. She could feel it circle her head and when she experimentally tilted her head almost sideways the headband didn’t slip off. “Neat,” she commented, “must be magical.” Lifting it up restored it to full weight and she rapidly pulled her hair away from her face, settling the headband back in place where the weight vanished again. “At least it keeps the hair out of my eyes,” she muttered, looking down at the final two pieces, matching armbands at least two inches wide made of gold half an inch thick. They were carved with a series of trolls with fierce expressions baring both teeth and claws. Unlike the headband the armbands had a series of runes carved into the lower edge, near the feet of the trolls. Each armband weighed almost a pound but proved weightless when donned. They also stayed effortlessly in place, not even offering to slide down. “Hey Crush, what’s with the jewelry?” Teagan asked aloud. “It seems kind of weird to use magic just to make it not fall off.” Your crown does far more than stay in place. For the first time since she’d woken up Crush seemed amused. Likewise your armbands are not mere ornaments. “What do you mean?” The crown is also a weapon, Crush explained. The old king used one like it against your friend Sun Hammer. In an emergency it can produce a short burst of very hot flames that reach five feet away. When the old King used it in their fight your friend was able to dodge the worst of it, but you saw the scars on his leg. Fjell still wears that crown. The one you wear now was created specifically for you. Teagan frowned, not sure how to feel about wearing the kind of weapon that had hurt Sun Hammer. Feeling her ambivalence Crush sighed mentally. If it comforts you, think of it as a weapon of last resort, the demon continued. It can only fire twice in a day before it must recharge itself. The recharging is done by absorbing ambient heat, so after the second shot you must quickly rid yourself of it before it inflicts severe frostbite. “Frostbite on my head? Gulp. Gotcha. Anything else I should know?” In an emergency place it in a fire. It cannot melt and will regain its charge in only a few hours rather than a full day. It can also absorb fire attacks aimed at you—but be warned if the flames are too hot or long-lived the crown will explode. “Explode?” Teagan asked faintly. “I take it I probably wouldn’t survive that?” No, Crush chuckled. You would not. However, unless you try to absorb a dragon’s breath or the Wrath of the Sun, the crown will grow unbearably hot when it nears its limit. If you throw it at least fifty feet away from you before it explodes you’ll be safe enough—although the same cannot be said of your target. “So, what you’re saying,” Teagan said carefully, “is that I’m wearing a potential grenade on my head, right? It can either freeze me to death or blow my head off if it’s abused?” Yes, Crush said calmly. Being quite literal, trolls understand they should never lose their head. It is a constant reminder to the king or queen how important prudent rulership is. Teagan quietly absorbed that before shivering in the cold. “Moving on,” She said firmly, “what about the arm bands? Will they explode too?” No. If the crown may be thought of as a sword, then the armbands are your armor. Remember trolls consider their king or queen to be the heart of all trolls. It is only prudent that the Heart have a hide of iron, is it not? Thus the Alene bent their magic toward that end. While I am a nearly impenetrable shield I must actively place myself in the path of a blow. Your armbands are intended to deflect blows I cannot intercept. They are very limited, however. While they could deflect a single troll’s claws aimed at your back they could not stand up to a dragon’s talons or teeth. Nor would they fully deflect the kick of a draugr, though they can help. Finally, multiple attackers can simply overwhelm them. “So I’m not Supergirl,” Teagan nodded. “Would these things stop an arrow or a bullet?” Crush considered the matter. They would deflect a single arrow or spear, even if thrown by a troll, the demon allowed. I am unsure about firearms, it has never been tested. Given what I know about how the armbands work they are weakest against attacks from the front, slightly less so from the sides and strongest against attacks from behind. I doubt they could stop a bullet from the front, not even from typical police-issued side arms. From the side they could probably ward off a single shot from most side-arms, and from the back small caliber rifles. But they cannot deflect shots from a hunting rifle or anything more powerful, especially at close range, even from the back. “What about knives or axes?” Teagan asked, making a mental note to keep out of firefights. Yes, even a troll’s axe could be deflected—if it was only one, the demon said seriously. I do not know if a second simultaneous blow could be. The armbands are an emergency measure. They do not make you invulnerable. “What about falls?” She asked, picking up the club and going to retrieve Crush’s sheath. They only deflect blows—they do nothing to absorb them. That is my function, the demon replied. “So make sure I’m carrying you if I fall,” She said drily. “I don’t suppose there’s any lamps around here are there?” While you see through my eyes I cannot control where you look, Crush said in a patient voice. Look around the room. Do you see any pillars that do not reach the ceiling? “Several, now that you mention it,” Teagan replied, “like those two on either side of the dresser.” They are glowstone pillars,” Crush noted. The top of the pillar has a hinged metal lid. If you open it the light inside will be revealed. Teagan walked over to the pillar, which was at least nine tall and a foot in diameter. Like everything else in her chamber it was covered with intricate carvings, this time either obvious symbols of light and the sun (which was the first time she’d seen the sun in troll artwork) or an odd rune that looked like two tall narrow triangles with their points touching, sort of like an X with closed sides. The pillar was made of stone and showed no switches or other ways to open the plates at the top. “Ok, I give up,” Teagan said after a moment. “How do I turn it on?” Open the plates at the top, Crush replied in an irritated tone. “How?” She asked aloud. “I can’t even reach that high. I don’t think climbing would be a good idea do you?” Drag a chair over, you infuriating ape, the demon snapped. I want to go to sleep! “Ok, ok, hold your horses, Crush. Jeez.” She spotted a chair she thought she could move, although like all troll furniture it was both huge and massively built. One protracted struggle later that left the girl panting with effort the several hundred pound chair was next to the lamp, a testament to both Teagan’s physical fitness and the floor’s smoothness. The chair’s seat was three feet off the ground, making Teagan have to jump and then pull herself up awkwardly with her arms. The chair’s arm was another two feet above that, finally letting the girl peer at the pillar’s top. As promised there was a pair of ornate handles with another touching-triangles-rune under them. She pulled the handles and as the two plates smoothly parted a beam of bright light shot up. Right into her eyes. Startled she flinched, and stepped back off the chair arm. She cursed as she fell onto the chair’s seat, barely managing to keep her balance. There was muted bong as the plates swung back and smacked the top of the pillar. Now you have light. Good night. Do not disturb me unless we’re under attack. Crush firmly closed his eyes. She caught the tail end of the demon’s grumble before it fell silent. The world changed subtly as she regained the use of her own eyes. She blinked several times to adjust to the (relative) brightness that had replaced the absolute blackness she’d woken to. Once her eyes had adjusted she carefully stepped up on the chair arm and from there stepped across the gap between the chair and the dresser top. A single stride let her reach the tall mirror on the back of the dresser, which stretched another ten feet to the ceiling. “I look like an escapee from Conan The Barbarian,” she grumbled, staring at her reflection. She turned this way and that, making sure the loin cloth covered enough to keep her decent. “More than a bikini, not as much as a skirt,” she judged. “I guess I can stand it. I just wish they’d turn up the heat. I’m freezing!” And, she realized, starving. And in need of a bathroom as well. Shades of Fluttershy’s house all over again. Well, at least this time I don’t have to use a towel as a dress—even if that would be warmer. Feeling a bit more confident than she had the first time she woke up in a bed on Equis she went looking for the bathroom. Which is when she ran into another problem. She found some doors, but they were all closed. Ok, now this is just pathetic. I’m Queen of the trolls and I don’t even know how to open one of their freaking doors? Where the heck is Søyle when I need her? The door in question was at least twelve feet tall and four feet wide and made of stone, not wood. Like everything else it was decorated to within an inch of its life, and even had a frame with its own images, distinct from the door’s carvings. What it didn’t have was a handle. Or hinges, come to that. She looked for a cleverly concealed handhold, figuring it might be near her eye level since that was around a male troll’s waist. But she couldn’t find one. She tried pushing on it, then sliding it, all without success. Crush, do you know how to open troll doors? Teagan asked silently. But the eyes in her head remained stubbornly closed. “All right, be that way. See if I care.” She muttered, going back to examining the enigmatic portal. “Let’s see. These things have to open, they’re doors,” Teagan said, speaking to herself. “They don’t pull open, they don’t slide, and I can’t see a handle anywhere. What does that leave?” “Trolls don’t have suction cups so if these things needed to be pulled open there would have to be a handle. The light pillar had handles so they do use them. That must mean the things should be pushed, but I already tried that.” She studied the door some more. “All right, what do I know about trolls? They’re big and…strong. So that means they don’t mind heavy doors, so…” Tentatively she threw herself against the door, only to bounce off, rubbing her shoulder. “All right, that was stupid,” she muttered. “Maybe try the left side?” Rather than throwing herself bodily at the door this time she put both hands near the left edge, crouched slightly and pushed with her entire strength. Only to nearly fall on her face as the door swung open with alacrity and swatted her in the loin cloth, knocking her through the narrow opening to stagger into the room beyond. That turned out to be a small (by troll standards) walk-in closet, empty except for a set of shelves with nothing on them. The room was dark, lit only by the light pillar in the other room. Teagan face-palmed and walked through the (wider) opening the door had revealed. “They pivot?” she asked incredulously, looking at the now open door. It was clear the door pivoted about ¾ of the way to the left side, leaving a three foot wide opening on the right. She experimentally tugged on the door, finding it fairly easy to move, even though it probably weighed as much as she did. Closing it gently she found once it was almost closed it finished closing on its own. That explained why the doors stayed shut, she supposed. Armed with her newfound knowledge (and the hand-cranked flashlight she retrieved from her backpack next to the bed) she carefully opened a couple of other doors. The first led to a sumptuous bathing chamber, with an absolutely huge sunken tub, almost a small pool by her standards, but no sign of her real target. The second door led to a narrow (again, by troll standards) corridor that ended in another door. Opening that revealed a small room with a hole in one corner surrounded by a smooth stone basin that sloped into the hole. Next to that was a small fountain with a pool that was constantly refilled by the fountain, only to drain away through an opening in the wall. There was a troll-sized metal ladle that she estimated could hold a gallon when filled on a small platform next to the basin. Fortunately she recognized the room from a funny but rather sophomoric story Matt had told her about his unit’s arrival in Afghanistan. “Let us never speak of this again,” she murmured the story’s punch line as she reached for the tie on her hip. ooOoo Back in her bedchamber she clipped the flashlight’s lanyard to one of the rings on her harness and let the device dangle under her arm as she examined the last door, discovering this one had Flint and Skrent on the other side of it, clearly on guard. The room beyond was lit with several light pillars. It appeared to be a living room of some kind. There were several chairs and a couple of low small tables. “Hey guys, am I glad to see you,” she grinned. “I just woke up and I’m famished. If you’d be so kind as to escort me to the food I’d be ever so grateful.” “Ja, min Dronning, denne veien,” Flint replied and strode toward another door. The next room was actually a wide corridor, lit with lys-mose on the tall ceiling. Flint strode along confidently, his broad bare feet making almost no noise as he moved. Neither did his silent brother, keeping pace behind her. “What time is it?” she asked, the brisk pace finally starting to warm her up. “Det nærmer seg tid for kveldsmat , min Dronning.” Flint said in a professional tone. “Uh, what? I don’t speak Trollish yet, Flint.” She said, perplexed. “I said it is nearly time for kveldsmat, the last meal of the day.” Flint explained. “Søyle thought it would be better to speak only vårt språk so that you may learn it more quickly. Was she not right?” “Well, that’s ok, but I will need a few lessons first,” Teagan said dryly. “So, to begin with, what do you call the meals of the day?” “First is frokost,” Flint replied readily, “eaten just after one has risen from sleep. Next is lunsj, the mid-day meal. Then is middag, eaten between afternoon and evening. Last is kveldsmat, the meal eaten two hours before sleeping.” “Lunch? You actually call it lunch?” Teagan asked, grinning. “Nei, min Dronning.” Flint corrected her carefully. “We say lunsj, not lunch. You see?” “Um, it sounds the same to me,” Teagan said doubtfully. “Is maybe close,” Flint allowed. “But lunsj not so hard sounding. Softer, you see?” “Not really, no. But maybe I need to hear it more often to catch on. Right now it sounds just the same to me.” The rest of the short trip was spent in silence. On the way they passed a few trolls who nodded to her but didn’t speak. From their harnesses she guessed they were government functionaries, the metals looked like copper and bronze and there weren’t any gems to be seen. Now that she was paying attention to it she noticed the troll brothers harnesses were fine tooled leather with intricate designs, the metal polished brass with a few uncut bloodstones at strategic points. By that time they had come to a large pair of double doors which Skrent pulled open without hesitation. Moving through them she found herself in a huge room, filled with tables and benches, a long table stretching across the front of the hall on a raised stone platform. It reminded Teagan of a Viking hall she’d once seen modeled in a museum. It was easy to spot Fjell and Søyle at the center of the long table, a smaller empty chair sitting conspicuously to Fjell’s left. The other tables were packed with male and female trolls who all rose to their feet as they noticed Teagan enter the room. VI ØNSKER VÅR DRONNING! The roar from the several hundred trolls was actually painful and Teagan winced, trying desperately to remember what her response should be. Unable to remember the trollish phrase Søyle had taught her, she raised one arm and waved it overhead, smiling warmly. It was only at the last minute she remembered to keep her mouth closed and not show her teeth. She strode confidently toward the platform as the trolls shouted again. LENGE KAN HUN LEVE! She was halfway to the platform now, ears ringing. LA VÅRE FIENDER SKJELVE! At the platform she leaped upward, landing in front of Søyle, and motioned her to lean forward, whispering in her ear. Søyle replied and Teagan turned to meet the assembled trolls as they roared one final line. HØR VÅR HJERTE TORDEN! Then the assembled trolls (both behind and facing her) raised one fist toward the ceiling, threw their heads back and roared her name three times. As the noise faded away they lowered their arms and stood quietly, staring at her. The sudden silence was just as stunning as the painful wall of sound had been. Teagan raised her voice and spoke with firm conviction, as Søyle had insisted she must do. “Jeg er hjertet du er resten. Sammen er vi en!” I am the heart you are the rest. Together we are one! The assembled trolls nodded in satisfaction and resumed their seats, a low hum of conversation returning to the enormous chamber. Ears ringing fiercely the girl made her way to the nearest end of the table and walked to her chair. In the relative silence she settled back and tried to quiet the butterflies in her stomach to keep them from reenacting the most famous scene from Alien. Fjell leaned down to say quietly. “That was well done, my queen. I am glad that you have recovered your strength so quickly. We did not expect you to awaken for another day. After the tales your ætt have spread concerning your journey here and your startling appearance at table this night no troll will ever doubt your seighet. You truly are one of us.” “My seighet?” Teagan asked curiously. “It means that which does not yield within you. It is the part of you that always overcomes, against which your enemies stand helpless.” Fjell explained. “Ah.” Teagan looked around curiously. “I don’t see Emma. Did she decide to skip dinner? That’s definitely not like her.” “No, my queen,” Fjell replied easily, “The catbird invited Emma and the pony Snøskred to dine with her. As we did not expect you to appear until tomorrow morning at the earliest, your friend decided to attend. She seems quite curious about the catbird. Speaking of which, Søyle tells me she granted the catbird temporary shelter in Hejm until you and I could discuss the matter. What are your thoughts on this?” “Well,” Teagan frowned as she considered, “Lady Silkwind helped us during the shadow wolf attack and she was always ready to fight to help defend us, along with her two bodyguards. I’d say she’s earned a safe haven with us until this whole thing with Duisternis is handled. On the other hand she’s a griffin, and not just any griffin, she’s what they call a Shadow Liaison in Canterlot. Spying is a high art among griffins and unless I miss my guess she’s a master of it.” “We have never had enmity with the catbirds,” Fjell said after a moment. “They do not like being underground any more than trolls enjoy treading the clouds. You say she is a spy, but for whom? And to what purpose?” “For the fun of it,” Teagan said with a shrug. “As for whom it’s probably for herself first and the griffins second. Apparently the griffins and the pegasi have a history and the griffins aren’t happy that ponies are now a troll clan. Griffins are a trifle paranoid.” “What is paranoid?” Fjell asked with a wrinkled brow. “I do not know this word.” “Um, it means believing everyone is trying to hurt you. Believing everyone else is an enemy just waiting to attack you when your back is turned, especially when that belief is irrational.” “In the World Below this is simple truth,” Fjell said, tilting his head. “Trolls are beset on all sides by things which wish to kill and eat us. The very world around us will kill the unwary without warning.” Teagan chuckled. “Yes, well if everyone is out to get you, you aren’t being paranoid. Paranoia is when you believe it when nobody actually is trying to hurt you. At that point it’s often a self-fulfilling prophecy.” “I understand this,” Fjell said, nodding. “For it is certain if they were not your enemy before you attacked them in error they certainly would be afterward.” “Absolutely,” Teagan nodded. “So it behooves us to treat Lady Silkwind as an ally until we have reason to believe otherwise. Let her poke around if she likes, we have nothing to hide from the griffins. Besides, the griffins wouldn’t be happy if we sent her away and she ran into something with big sharp teeth. No need to ruffle their feathers needlessly.” “Your counsel seems wise, my queen,” Fjell said nodding. “Very well, let the catbirds stay until peace is restored to the world.” At that point several trolls entered the room pushing carts laden with all manner of food. From where Teagan was sitting she couldn’t see everything but she smelled some kind of meat and something else delectably spicy. As the trolls brought food to the table she forgot about everything but her raging hunger. Food was placed along the table in long shallow serving plates sized to trolls. Because of the number of diners at the long table several groups of serving plates were provided so the need for passing platters was kept to sane levels. Once it was clear that Teagan simply couldn’t handle the weight of the huge platters Fjell wordlessly began passing platters for her, piling food on the shallow rectangular plate in front of her and filling the bowl next to it with soup. A human-sized (but very large) flagon next to her plate was filled with a frothy brown liquid that smelled like bread and nuts. The meal consisted of meat and tubers, a rich heavy soup and tough but delicious dark bread. Teagan dove in gleefully with a knife and two-tined skewer that seemed to be the troll version of a fork. At least the eating implements were correctly sized for her. She wouldn’t have been able to deal with the full sized versions used by the trolls. Their eating knife was the size of a wide-bladed butcher knife and the full sized fork-skewer was almost big enough to use on a barbeque grill! By the time it was done Teagan had eaten three helpings, her stomach seeming bottomless. Her drink was some kind of ale, with a wonderful nutty taste. Not being used to alcohol Teagan declined to have Fjell refill her flagon when he offered. She suspected one flagon was actually more than she should have drunk but happily she didn’t feel the least bit tipsy. Halfway through the meal Crush opened his eyes and sighed in pleasure before going back to sleep. She got the impression he was a lot less grumpy this time. “It is true then,” Fjell said at the end of the meal. “Mountain Heart does make you ravenous. I have known trolls who could not eat half what you did this night, my queen.” “I have no regrets,” Teagan declared, settling back in her chair. “That was good, better than I’ve had in a lot of Kansas City restaurants. My compliments to the chef.” “I am sure Koken will be pleased to hear your praise, my queen,” Fjell said. “I noticed you particularly enjoyed the bakkan hai i smør.” “Which one was that?” Teagan asked in interest. “I believe you would name it Buttered Land Shark.” Fjell replied. “I too found it interesting. Especially considering the butter was made from cave lemming milk.” “Wait, didn’t Alene Dalen say that no sane troll would ever consider eating a cave lemming? Something about them being unbearably rank?” “This is so,” Fjell said with a nod as he rose. “But the milk of the cave lemming is delicious. It is another gift Alene Rolig gave to our people. Without him trolls would never have thought to try it because we had always driven away the lemmings, for they invaded our fungus farms. Now, cave lemming milk is a staple of our diet. We make butter, cheese, and skyr from it.” “What’s skyr?” Teagan asked as she stretched, pleasantly sated from the meal. “A kind of very soft cheese,” Fjell answered as he and Søyle motioned for Teagan to follow them. “It is often mixed with milk and spices and eaten for frokost. I myself enjoy it mixed with honey we import from the hester—excuse me, I should say ponies. My apologies, it is hard not to slip into trollish. I look forward to the day we may converse as trolls, my queen.” “I will endeavor to hasten that day, my husband,” Søyle said with a trollish smile, keeping her teeth hidden. “Where are we headed?” Teagan asked as her bodyguards joined the king’s behind them. “To the council chambers, my queen. A serious challenge concerning Clan Hest has been raised that only you may answer.” “Say what?” Teagan exclaimed with dismay. “I thought that was all settled. Ponies are clan, Fjell!” “Be at peace, my queen. I understand this and do not accept Vismeg’s challenge concerning Clan Hest.” “What’s this Vismeg’s beef with ponies anyway?” Teagan asked. “Is he just a racist or what?” “What is a racist?” Søyle interjected. “Um, somebody that thinks their race is superior to all others, that other races cannot be as good as their own. Among humans it causes no end of trouble. They fight wars over it sometimes.” “I do not understand,” Fjell said with a puzzled tone. “What is a race? Do you mean species? Are not all humans a single species?” “Well—hmm. How do I explain this? Ok, yes, humans are a single species but we’ve spread out all over the planet. Some parts of the planet get a lot more sunlight than others. Since humans lack fur like trolls do but we live above ground we’re exposed to the sun all the time. But while we do need a certain amount of sunlight too much is very bad for us. It can make our skin burn and we can even die from a disease where the damaged skin invades our internal organs and causes horrible growths that cause our insides to die.” Søyle and Fjell turned to her with a shared look of shock on their faces. “I had heard your world contained many horrors trolls cannot imagine, my queen,” Fjell said in a voice heavy with distress. “The Snøskred spoke of weapons that could wipe out entire cities in an instant, of fiery death that poisoned the land for years after. But to hear humans can die from the very thing that brings life to the world—” He shook his head. “I have no words.” “Every world has dangers, Fjell,” Teagan said, waving her hands frantically. “My world only sounds more dangerous than yours because the dangers are different. Ones you don’t have. But you have a lot of things on Equis that my world would consider just as horrible. Dragons, for instance, or cockatrices.” Both trolls winced. “Anyway, because humans are exposed to different amounts of sunlight, they adapt. Our skin contains a dye called, um, melanin, I think. The stronger the sunlight the more dye our skin produces. Over generations the amount of dye gets kind of standardized. The more sunlight there is where the person’s ancestors lived the darker a person’s skin normally stays. The dye also affects eye color and hair color. People with darker skin have darker eyes and hair too. “At any rate, that’s basically all race is, the least amount of dye your skin can have. There are humans that are almost literally black. Well, super dark brown, actually. I’m at the extreme other end. I have almost no dye in my skin. My ancestors come from an island where the sunlight is very weak. My red hair comes from that same lack of dye. So do my green eyes. The only people paler than me have a birth defect. They’re called albinos and have no dye at all. The most extreme cases have white hair and pink eyes and super-pale skin.” Fjell and Søyle looked at each other. “So you have two races then? And they fight? Just because they have different amounts of dye in their skin?” Søyle finally asked hesitantly. “Well, there’s actually, um,” Teagan started counting on her fingers, “Five. I think. They call them white, black, yellow, red, and brown, with some argument about brown having multiple divisions, but yeah. Of course those colors aren’t really literal, like ponies would be. I’m called white, but you can see my skin’s a pale peach color really. Yellow and red are just light tan and a darker tan. Black is really a range of browns from light brown to nearly black.” “What about your hair and eyes?” Fjell said, clearly lost. “How does that work? Is a dark brown person with green eyes yet another race? What if they had white hair?” “Um, well, you see, most humans have brown eyes, no matter what their skin color is. Brown helps protect the eyes from strong light. Then there’s blue, that’s the next most common color. Generally only white people can have blue eyes. Or green, like mine. It’s the amount of dye again. But like the majority of humans most white people have brown eyes. Green and blue are a mutation, kind of like albinos but to a much smaller degree.” “What about hair color then?” Søyle asked, still trying to grasp the differences. “Emma has brown hair and eyes. Is she a different race from you? She is tan. Does that make her, what was it, yellow? Or red?” “No, Emma’s white too,” Teagan said, regretting bringing the subject up, wondering if the ale had impaired her judgment after all. “White people’s hair ranges from black through all shades of brown to gold or red. Red’s the rarest, especially my color. Most redheads are actually a reddish brown.” “But you said light tan was called yellow,” Fjell said, frowning in fierce concentration. “If humans fight over something like this, surely they have to be able to tell the difference? From what you’ve said it seems the differences are tiny!” “I didn’t say it made sense,” Teagan said defensively. “It’s also complicated by the fact that race isn’t the only factor. Sometimes its different countries that speak a different language, or have different religions or—” “But it defies reason!” Søyle said in desperation. “Min Dronning I believe you speak the truth but how can humans fight over such simple things? Things neither side have any control over?” “That, Søyle, is a question humans have asked for centuries. And nobody seems to have an answer that can stop the fighting.” Teagan said heavily. By now they had left the palace (at least Teagan assumed it was the palace) and were well along the road to a massive ornate building. “I would not want to live in your world, my queen,” Fjell said shaking his head. “It is a wonder you have survived at all. I question if you go back whether you can stay alive long enough to return to us. At least in this world a troll may see the shape of the creature coming toward them to judge its threat. To know your enemy only by the shade of their skin? When, from what you say, the shades overlap? Worse still, that their skin may lighten or darken by how much time they spend in the sun? That is madness!” “Whoa, hang on!” Teagan said. “Earth is a very big place, Fjell. I’m talking about an entire planet—nearly seven billion humans. There are huge swathes that have managed to stay peaceful for a long time. We’re getting better. Slowly, but we are. Where I live it’s really safe—boring even. Something could happen to me, that’s true. But the chances are really, really low. I promise.” “You have said this?” Søyle demanded. “I have said this. I swear to it.” Teagan said forcefully. Both Søyle and Fjell visibly relaxed. “If you have said this, my queen, then it must be so,” Fjell said. “But I am minded of our conversation when you spoke of the difference between evil and amorality. Only now do I see why you were able to thread such a narrow passage. It is a skill needful among your people if they are to survive at all. I do not envy you.” Fjell led the way into the entrance of the large ornate building. “Welcome to the Borgen, my queen.” Fjell said as they headed toward a set of stairs leading down. “Here is where you will spend much of your time. This is the place where decisions are made, where the Council meets, where the Law is preserved. Many trolls labor here to make sure the World Below continues to be.” “I take it Vismeg is waiting for us?” Teagan asked cynically, “along with the assembled Council?” “That is so,” Fjell nodded. “Well, I guess I understand why the two of us are here. What’s Søyle’s role?” Teagan asked curiously. “I will translate for you to those on the Council who cannot speak the pony language, min Dronning.” Søyle replied. “I am also to bear witness to the statements you made on the train about clan Hest being klanen av sjelen with you. Vismeg of Clan Langtpunkt has demanded proof of your words. You will give it and I will confirm it. As Kona my oath is no small thing.” “So, all I have to do is say ponies are clan?” Teagan said with a raised eyebrow. “How will that solve anything? It’s just my word for something that sounds like a children’s story.” “Exactly, my queen,” Fjell said with satisfaction. “Your word. The word of the Dronning, bearer of Mountain Heart. There is no greater surety.” “That is so,” Søyle nodded. “My own affirmation carries far less weight—but only an Alene’s oath is surer than the word of the Kona.” “Doesn’t Kona just mean wife?” Teagan asked in confusion. “The word does, yes. But Kona is not just a thing I am. It is also my title, Dronning. As a rank Kona means I am the spouse of the ruler. And as such my oath is as strong as his. Or yours.” “So…that means Vismeg will be satisfied to take my word for it?” “Yes,” the troll woman replied with upmost confidence. They continued in silence for another five minutes before Fjell opened doors flanked by a pair of guards that stepped aside for him. When Teagan followed him into the room she found a huge table with a dozen trolls—and a single pony. “Dronning Teagan, behold the Troll Council,” Fjell said in ringing formal tones. “Members of the Council, behold Dronning Teagan, bearer of Mountain Heart, rightful ruler of the World Below. She comes to take her place among you.” “La hjertet bli med tankene.” The phrase rumbled around the table, even the pony adding his voice. Fjell gestured to a smaller chair placed on a stand to bring it level with the table. Teagan settled into it, for once able to look the trolls in the eye without having to stand up to do it. Fjell seated himself next to her and Søyle stood behind them. She found herself staring at the earth pony across the table from her. The pony nodded his head and spoke. “Min Dronning, I am Truth Speaker, Equestria’s ambassador to Hejm. I am also the Council member for clan Hest.” A large troll with a plain leather harness studded with steel rings that reminded her of the one worn by Ynsiv rumbled something in trollish to which the pony calmly replied, also in trollish. The troll huffed and settled back in his chair. “My queen, this is Vismeg of Clan Langtpunkt. He is the one who brings challenge to Clan Hest.” Søyle spoke in trollish, clearly translating what Fjell had said. Vismeg nodded and spoke at some length. Søyle’s voice, this time speaking English (well, Equestrian), translated. “I am a Plain Troll, my queen. It has been said ponies are now a new clan among the trolls. Yet they are very different from us, and hold to different Law than we. They lie easily, and this to trolls is not a thing to be born. I have heard they are clan of the soul to you, and thus to us. I do not understand how this thing might be so. I await your words that this thing may be shown to be so.” Teagan turned in her seat to look back at Søyle. “This is going to take a while. It’s probably best if I pause after every few sentences to let you translate, so you don’t have to remember the entire thing. Is that ok?” “It is,” Søyle said, nodding her head. Teagan turned back to Vismeg and with appropriate pauses began speaking directly to him. “First, I apologize for not knowing Trollish yet. One of the things I will be doing in the next couple of months is learning how to speak it, so things are easier between us. But until then, I’ll have to speak in the language I know. Many on the Council know it too, so they can verify Søyle is translating my words correctly. Is this acceptable to you?” Vismeg nodded solemnly. Teagan nodded back, continuing. “I was not born among the trolls, but the Law says because I wield Crush I am your queen and I am a troll. Is this correct?” Vismeg nodded again, face impassive. “As a troll I am clan to all trolls, my own clan of purpose containing representatives of every clan on this council. Is this so?” Vismeg nodded again. “On my first trip to Equis I was told a story by Twilight Sparkle, who is now a princess of Equestria. But when she told me this story she wasn’t a princess, she was a scholar, a student who had an insatiable hunger for knowledge. She was interested in knowing everything, no matter what the subject was. One of those interests was the history of the ponies. How they came to this world—from my world.” She stared at Vismeg. “There was a race of ponies on my world, ponies that could speak and had magic. They were not mere animals, as most creatures on my world are. These ponies lived with my clan and the story Twilight Sparkle told me is one I already knew because it was part of my own clan’s history. Thus I know it to be true. For our worlds had been separate since that day over a thousand years ago. There could have been no way for her to know it unless it were true. “One day a great enemy came upon my clan, and defeated them in battle, conquering us and killing many of us. The queen of the ponies, Epona, had foreseen our defeat at the hands of the Melesians, and had cast a great spell to save some part of her ponies and my clan. She knew it was impossible to escape, so instead ponies and humans were joined magically to a third group of ponies, these mere animals that could not speak or think as you and I do. “When a pony and their rider fell in battle the spell Epona cast joined the souls of the pony and human together with the spirit of the animal pony in the pony’s body and sent that pony over the Bridge of Days to Equis. The new pony could speak and think, for they had the souls of a Capall and a human joined within them. “The ponies of Equestria are one third human, Vismeg. More, they are one third human of my bloodline. Are you answered?” As Søyle’s voice died away Vismeg considered Teagan’s words in silence for several minutes. “Jeg svarte. Denne saken er så.” I am answered. This thing is so. Teagan relaxed when she heard Søyle’s translation, breathing a sigh of relief.