Ponies of the North

by HarmonicaJay

Book 1: Journey to the North: Chapter XII: Memories

From his chambers, Odin looked towards the tallest tower of the palace. Bor's Tower, the place where his father would look over the mountains to keep guard over the palace. When the Keep had been built, he had specifically ordered that tower be bigger than the whole of the palace, big enough to look over the mountains themselves. The architects had more than earned their payment for the Keep when it was complete. For most of his life, his father had ruled from that tower, watching for attacks, ordering decrees and edicts, and tutoring his sons in the way of governance.

Odin's mind wandered back in time to foalhood memories of him and his brothers, Vili and Vé, listening intently to their father's war stories, tales of blood and gore, victories and defeats, and great adventures. All the while not understanding the meaning behind those stories until they were older. Of the three, Odin had been the second born, Vé was the oldest and Vili the youngest. Vé was always combat minded, the stories of battles appealing to him the most. Vili loved the adventures, the romantic stories of heroes saving mares from fire breathing dragons and saving villages from mountain troll attacks. Only Odin seemed to grasp the meaning of the lessons. At least he did when he turned thirteen.

The stories of the Crown War had been Odin's favorite. They were stories of strategy, intrigue, and battle. All of which Odin took to heart when his father talked to him. He thought back to his favorite ones. The Battle of Sky Mountain, the Burning of Jörð Hall, the original home of the Earth Ponies, the Caribou/Earth Pony Alliance that began the turning of the tide in the Earth Ponies' favor, and the Battle of the Diamond Fort which ended the war. All of them had lessons to teach Odin in matters of strategy and Kingship. And he had taken them to heart.

After Odin had been crowned High King, Bor remained in the tower, keeping watch and advising Odin on matters of court. He never emerged, living there until the day he died. He thought back to Bor's final days. How the sickness had come to him slowly and how it had taken various steps to end the once great warlord and King of the North.

The first sign was the fit of coughing that would normally accompany the cold. The tower was always built more for function than for comfort, so it was recommended that he return to the castle. However, Bor refused to leave and ordered that his room be done up so that he would remain warm. “I will not abandon my post here as long as I live,” he rasped at Odin. The coughing did not dissipate any time soon. And then the blood appeared.

The best Unicorn doctor available was sent for and the word was not good. Consumption of the body. His body was slowly succumbing to a sickness that not even the best magics could stop. The doctors tried and tried to stop it, but as soon as it seemed that the sickness was beat, it would return in force. Like they missed something.

Odin threw the doctors out into the cold, back to their lands. He had wanted to destroy them for failing his father, but his Queen, Frigga, had calmed his temper. She was always good at that. She convinced him to bid the doctors farewell and passage back to their lands for their hard work in trying to save his father's life. He shook his head, trying to focus on one memory at a time.

Odin could not understand it. How could a warrior king, like his father, be brought so low by an enemy that could not be defeated? It was impossible. He remembered literally looking up to his father. So tall. So strong. And now he was hacking away his life in his tower. It was impossible.

He saw Bor less and less as the weeks went on. He just couldn't face him. He just couldn't. Frigga urged him to spend as much time as he could with his father. “He needs you by his side. You're his son.”

“I cannot,” he would say. “I am too busy. I have duties to attend to.”

They would argue, but in the end, Frigga would give up and leave Odin to his brooding. The children, Baldr and Skadi would ask to see their grandfather, but Odin denied them that. He refused to spread the sickness to them. It was hard for Frigga to see her children saddened by that news, but Odin's word was final. He was not going to let them suffer like his father had.

More memories were coming back to him when Kelda entered hovering a tray in front of her. “Papa, you shouldn't get so close to the window. You'll catch cold.”

Odin smiled at her. “We are of the North, child. Cold is our livelihood. It is in our bones.”

Kelda rolled her eyes at him and frowned. “Even so, you need to bundle up. It's for your own good.” Her horn glowed and two layers of cloaks floated up to Odin and wrapped themselves around him. “And make sure to drink your soup. The cook worked hard on it.”

Odin smelled it with a smile. Coney soup with sage and oats. A personal favorite of his. “Thank you, Kelda. Any word of your brother and sister?”

“None, Papa. We sent out ravens to track them, but none have returned yet. But they should be on the way.”

Odin smiled and looked off into the distance. “And you, Kelda? How are you doing?”

“I'm fine, Papa. I'm just fine.”

“And how is Baldr today? You have spoken with him, haven't you?”

“Yes, Papa. He asked me if I would like to take a walk around the castle grounds today. To discuss... our upcoming wedding.”

“As well he should. This is a good sign that he's taking initiative for his responsibilities. Perhaps he may end that affair with that scullery mare once and for all.”

“Papa, I feel you're being too hard on him for that. I mean, it's understandable that a Prince under pressure would look to other means of... relieving that pressure.”

“When I was his age, I took up sparring. I went on long walks. I fought Caribou, I had archery. I did not rut around with scullery mares! A Prince should be better than that!”

“But Papa, he really didn't do anything wrong.”

Odin looked at her for a second, his one eye scanning her up and down. “Did he ask you to appeal to me for him?”

The green unicorn scuffed the floor with her hoof. “Maybe... Maybe not?”

Odin rolled his eye. “Do not make excuses for him. A true Prince owns up to his faults. He doesn't need a young mare to make an excuse for him.” He looked out the window for a few seconds and turned back to see Kelda still standing there, waiting for him to speak. He gave a long sigh and waved his hoof in the air. “You may go. And I hope you have a good walk with Baldr.”

She smiled and walked over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa.” She gave a curtsy and exited the room, leaving Odin bundled up and finishing his soup.

“Soon. Soon, they'll be back. And my plans can truly begin.” He took another sip of the soup and smiled. It really was good.

Comments

[MadScientistSidekick]

Another good chapter. It was humanizing, for lack of a better word, of Odin.

However I did notice that you said that "She was good at that" twice in the paragraph where you talk about Frigga calming Odin's temper.

[HarmonicaJay]

7188038 Ah, thanks. I'll get rid of that.

[Elkia Deerling]

Harmonicajay, could you please finish this awesome story? I really like the complexity and the different perspectives, and to be honest, I am dying to know what will happen with Twilight and her friends once they reach Odin's hall. Please finish it; you're doing a great job so far.

[HarmonicaJay]

7750157
Hello. I am back. I’m sorry about being gone for so long. I’ve been in a two year slump due to a lot of shit in my life. I plan to go back to it. Thank you for your kind words.

[Elkia Deerling]

8922069
Thanks for the response. I hope you're doing ok in real life, and that you'll get some new inspiration!