The Traveler
Have you ever seen a nerdy, shrill-voiced pony princess use her magically-projected voice to scold her delinquent friends for inadvertently wreaking havoc in a museum?
I have.
After profusely apologizing to the red-faced curator, and throwing in a helpful monetary contribution towards repairs and other expenses, Twilight hauled Pinkie, Rainbow and Spike out of the museum and into the garden behind the facility to give them the talking-to of their lives. As it turns out, Little Miss Goody-Two-Hooves has quite the extensive vocabulary, using a litany of colorful words most commonly found at a Baltimare sailor's pub. If it wasn't for the prepared sound-canceling bubble she'd erected, I'm positive Twilight would've received a tongue-lashing herself for using foul language in front of impressionable foals. I have to admit, seeing the normally jovial and somewhat mild-mannered librarian hollering at the trio was somewhat entertaining to me and I did my utmost to conceal my amusement, lest Twilight turned her ire upon me. Fluttershy spent that time covering her ears, eyes fully open and mouth slack in horror at her friend's swamp-mouthed tirade.
Spike and Pinkie Pie were speechless, their shame speaking volumes for them as all they could do was endure Twilight's verbal hurricane with their heads hung in humiliation. According to them, in what little moments of uninterrupted speech they could manage, Rainbow Dash asked Pinkie to take a picture of her posing with a suit of armor. When Spike rushed in to join her, he startled the pegasus and caused her to accidentally knock over the glaive loosely held in the armor's hoof-gauntlet. This triggered their companion's "Pinkie Sense" and she dove in to stop Spike from retrieving the polearm from underneath the display of a terracotta statue in a chariot, bowling over Rainbow and knocking her head-first into a row of standing armored dummies. This caused the dummies to topple over in a domino-like arrangement, one of the helmets landing on Pinkie's head, knocking her into the chariot and loosening the wedges beneath its wheels.
Meanwhile, the glaive sailed across the room and cut through one of the support ropes for a massive gong, sending it rolling down the hallway and nearly crushing a tour group of university students led by none other than the curator's niece. As this was occurring, Spike was fumbling to restore several scattered pieces of armor to their rightful place and, his view obstructed by the collection of miscellaneous metal plates in his arms, stepped on a barbed vambrace. Wailing in pain, the young drake tossed his collection into the air, a few pieces striking a glass display of shields and shattering the protective barrier, allowing a few to bounce off in difference directions. As Spike hopped around on one foot, he narrowly avoided getting conked by a flying kite shield and fell onto a discarded buckler, the momentum taking him on a long dry-land sledding trip down the exhibit and out of the adjoining hallway. When he'd managed to spin to a stop, Spike wobbled over to the curator's niece and vomited all over her crisp sky-blue dress, leaving the poor mare smelling like a back alley bum.
Rainbow Dash certainly didn't help, telling the sobbing mare, in a rather sad attempt at comforting her, that the vomit brought out the color of her eyes. The curator, a heavy-set mustachioed old stallion, charged towards Rainbow and was swiftly restrained by his colleagues, thrashing about and referring to the pegasus as an "impertinent cad." Rainbow, in turn, was held back by Applejack's earth pony strength and kept separated from the enraged sexagenarian until Twilight could smooth things over. Suffice it to say, Pinkie, Spike and Rainbow were permanently banned from the museum effective immediately and it looked as though their disbarment would remain active until their respective demise. The three looked crushed by the news, though I personally suspect it was more out of a sense of shame and embarrassment, both for themselves, their families and Twilight, rather than any kind of love for the institution.
And we never got to go to the park.
~*~
With the mood ruined by the events at the museum, our afternoon plans were scrapped and we instead rode back to the castle post haste. Throughout the return trip, silence dominated the royal carriage, a dark cloud hanging over our heads. I mean, what could possibly be said?
Upon our arrival, we exited the carriage, allowing Twilight to take the lead and keeping a healthy distance between us and her. I wanted to say something, anything, but Fluttershy, reading me like a pamphlet, simply shook her head, her eyes telling me to let our friend stew in her anger and disappointment. The royal guards, who ordinarily were more than happy to see us, instead kept themselves at a distance, their eyes averted in a very awkward, almost submissive manner akin to the downtrodden gaze of a beaten dog. Perhaps they could read the dour mood or it could be the Princess of Friendship's less-than-affable expression. As soon as the front doors to the main foyer slammed shut, Twilight finally interrupted the stillness:
"Pinkie, Rainbow, follow me to the throne room. Spike, go straight to bed."
"And what 'bout us?"
Twilight briefly glanced at Applejack and exhaled through her nostrils.
"Stay out of trouble."
Without another word, the three left us.
Spike watched his sororal figure depart and then offered the rest of us a weak wave.
"See you guys later," he murmured and trudged down the hall towards his room.
I stepped forward to address Spike, perhaps give him some words of encouragement or to assure him that Twilight's irritation would fade but again, Fluttershy held me back. It was actually kind of scary how much of an influence she had over me at times.
"Let him go," she said softly. "Give him a little space first, then talk to him. Trust me."
Reluctantly, I agreed.
After a brief pause, Applejack stated:
"Ah'm going t' get some fresh air. Ah'll see ya'll later."
"And I have some business proposals to go over," Rarity added. "There are some prospective clients I'm going to meet with a week from now and I must be prepared."
"Okay, we'll see you at dinner."
The two mares nodded at Fluttershy and departed.
"So what now?"
Fluttershy thought for a moment. "We could walk through the Royal Garden."
"The Royal Garden, it is," I smiled fondly at her.
Based on Fluttershy's directions, we traveled through the southeast section of the castle, walking side-by-side and saying very little to one another and that was just fine with me. I never understood why civilized beings, particularly humans, and now ponies, required near-constant chatter in their lives. Was a semi-eternal stream of flowing conversation really that essential? They couldn't allow more time, say, twenty or thirty minutes, to elapse without uttering a single word? A little silence now and then wouldn't kill anyone.
We arrived at a long corridor with a concave roof, the ceiling decorated with crossbeams and hanging tapestries that dangled above our heads like slumbering colossal fang-bats. Each one was even more richly detailed and elaborately woven than the last, consisting of weft thread wool or gilt-metal-wrapped silk fabric dyed a deep purple or dark blue. They all shared a common astronomical theme: twinkling stars, glittering comets, shining moons, ad nauseum. Honestly, as much as I respect Princess Luna, both as a ruler and as an individual, that mare really needs to add more to her whole aesthetic besides the obvious heavenly bodies and nighttime satellites. Perhaps a smiley face or something, I don't know.
Then again, Tyr would certainly appreciate the Princess of the Night's schtick when he woke up.
That's "when", not "if".
We soon came across a rather snooty unicorn stallion, turning his nose up as he approached us. He was large and haughty with an immaculately brushed light gray coat that one could mistake for white at a distance and a long, well-groomed light amber mane. His attire, simply made up of a blue silk bow tie, black lapels over a light blue-gray half-shirt with polished brass buttons, and a white lily tucked into one lapel, nonetheless reeked of extravagance and privileged overindulgence. I remembered Rarity mentioning a terrible prior experience with a loathsome, narcissistic prince and put two and two together, coming to the conclusion that this must've been Princess Celestia's infamous nephew Prince Blueblood. If his reputation was anything to go by, Blueblood was a nasty piece of work.
"Well now, I don't recall seeing you around here," the prince purred in Fluttershy's direction, his eyes trailing over her form in a less-than-innocent manner. "I wasn't aware the castle was hiring lovely young creatures such as yourself."
"A-actually, I don't work here-..."
"Let me guess: you were hoping to get a job and got lost. I don't blame you. This castle can be quite confusing for newcomers."
His gaze was lustful, the kind that screamed of ephemeral pleasure, one that was practiced and honed through years of ritualistic pumping-and-dumping. How many young mares had he seduced, winning through whispered sweet-talk and promises of love, only to abandon them once they'd scratched his itch?
He moved towards the petrified pegasus, his loathsome smug face bearing a fully-exposed smile.
"Allow me to show you the way. In fact, I believe I can help you secure a position..."
BITE...DEFEND...EVISCERATE...
Placing myself in between them, I issued a low snarl at the dandified prick.
The prince was tall for a pony and though he rivaled Big Mac in terms of height and build, there was a clear-cut difference in that the farm-stallion was a solid wall of muscle with nerves of steel. Meanwhile, this unicorn was able-bodied but clearly more so for cosmetic appearance rather than practical use, essentially a glass vase with a gold veneer. I could tell just by his scent, a sharp aroma of vanilla and figs overwrought by an excessive amount of grapefruit and lemon-infused Prench cologne, that if push came to shove, he'd sooner flee or attempt to bribe his way out rather than throw a punch. His overall body language, while exuding supreme confidence and bottomless self-assurance, hid within it a kind of weak-willed sheepishness that could only arise from one who's never had to struggle or work a day in his life. Prince Blueblood was what those back home would deem as argr and that was the only word that sprang to mind if I were to describe this ponce.
The unicorn paused and craned his neck up and down, inspecting me head-to-paw as though he'd only now taken notice of my existence, his countenance portraying immense disapproval.
"I see Auntie has acquired a new pet. At least she could've bought one of a higher-quality pedigree."
"So who holds your leash?" I shot back facetiously, inwardly watching with delight as he was momentarily stricken with befuddlement.
"You talk? Auntie must've really paid a king's fortune for such a find," Prince Blueblood retorted with a self-satisfied smirk. "Personally, I wouldn't have paid two bits."
"Still more than whatever you're worth."
Prince Blueblood was far from amused.
"Miss, I'm going to have to insist you muzzle this mongrel."
Fluttershy glared at him. "The only one who needs a muzzle is you, 'Your Highness'."
Oh snap!
The prince's charming veneer vanished.
"You impudent peasant! How dare you speak to me in such a manner! I shall have the guards come here and give your sorry little flank a good thrashing."
KEEP SAFE...DEFEND...MOTHER...
Diving forward, I snapped my jaws right in front of the princeling's whiny muzzle, sending him tumbling backwards onto his ass with a frightened squeal. I won't lie, seeing that irritating peacock in such a state of duress got my blood flowing in a most pleasurable manner, the twinge of a shudder rolling throughout me like a light rainstorm on the hills. That old crimson mist filled my vision, obscuring everything but the subject of my ire. Lowering my head, I glared daggers in his direction as a light warbling growl issued forth from my throat, my partially-opened jaws giving him a front-row seat to the glistening, drool-coated fangs on display. I would not allow this debaucherous sack of feces to violate my mother, to reduce her to nothing more than another notch on his bedpost.
"Do anything of the sort, and I'll peel your face off with my teeth."
The lump in Prince Blueblood's throat bobbed with a large gulp. Gone was his arrogant smirk, reduced to a teeth-clattering lip-tremble, a series of minuscule squeaks escaping his mouth instead of more of his sanctimonious drivel. The outer edges of my eyes ignited, sending long plumes of azure fire streaming backward, smoke gushing from my mouth and nostrils. I took a step forward, then another, the nails on my paws ablaze with red-hot sheaths. Prince Blueblood remained where he was, too paralyzed to think or move, just remaining there on his hindquarters.
Tyr once told me that when a man was facing death his true self would emerge alongside him so they could face it together. Fear was a mirror to reflect a man's soul and it was no different in Equestria. This Prince Blueblood, this high-and-mighty little aristocrat leeching off of his aunt, presented himself as being above it all but now that he was truly at another's mercy, he broke down like a little colt. My Inner Beast was drunk on the impeccably refined aroma of eau de peur and I wanted more of it. The blue flames radiating out of my eyes and around my front paws softly crackled within the otherwise dense silence of the remote corridor.
PROTECT...PROTECT...PROTECT...
I let out a half-cry of alarm at the sudden throbbing twinge that appeared in my right hind-leg. It proceeded to shoot up into my chest and seized a hold of my heart, crushing it like a leveret caught in a hawk's talons. The cardiac arrest from the chimera's venom was a mild case of acid indigestion in comparison, the scorching stabs leaving me stumbling around as I fought to stay vertical. The corridor became out of focus, my vision clouding while everything zoomed by in trails of bright spotted light. Another squeeze and I choked out a howl in distress.
"Fen, what's wrong? Talk to me!"
My burning nails dug grooves into the floor, the carpeting and wood sizzling and scrapping with every frantic flex of my toes, the smell of charred wool and roasted oak filling the air. I hadn't felt anything close to this since Vidar's sword turned my thumping chest-muscle into a shish-kebab, my previous defiant mindset of filial protectiveness replaced by wild, flailing terror. In spite of the pain, or perhaps because of it, the Hunger began clawing its way through my mental defenses, vehemently demanding a tribute of rich pony flesh and "blue-blood."
HURT...PUNISH...KILL...!
Overworked lungs struggled to grasp oxygen, everything scented and tasting of gore and flame. I wanted to safeguard Fluttershy and defend her honor, no, to rip Blueblood to shreds and dance around while coated in his body's mead, or was it to replenish my supply of air? I struck the empty space on my right with a paw-swipe, my smoldering nails carving through something and there was a faint shriek of alarm that could've been masculine. My ears rang with a procession of keen buzzing knells, every whine punctuated by a deep drum-like thud. My roar echoed in the hallway, my esophagus rattling as a deep blue cloud was expelled out of my throat and jaws to occupy the first six feet in front of my face.
I was so preoccupied with blind panic that I flinched at the light pressure settling on my back, followed closely by a pair of fuzz-coated branches that wrapped around my neck. Gently, a keratin-coated limb began smoothing over my scalp, a feather-soft voice incoherently murmuring into my ear. The mist subsided and I blinked away the bloodlust that'd been mounting since the snob's threat, the previous anger forgotten just as soon as it appeared. My breathing slowed, my agitated lungs managed to collect precious air, the aching in my chest gradually ebbing away until it was almost forgotten. My heart, no longer hampered by phantom agony, steadily began to beat regularly.
"Easy, boy. Shh, it's okay. That's it, good boy."
Fluttershy continued to pet me, her unique odor of flowers and berries proving to be my only lifeline within the dissipating storm. I greedily sucked in sharp gusts of oxygen, every inhale and exhale almost arduous in execution, almost as if I had just been born and was learning how to breathe for the first time. The fiery sheathes enshrouding each toe-nail fizzled out with a series of gusty pops, gray smoke streaming from them in a manner akin to candles on a birthday cake. I must've been shaking because Fluttershy's grip around me tightened, her wings extending in an attempt to act as a sort of makeshift blanket. She continued to pet my head, giving me reassurances with every pass of her hoof.
"You're going to be alright, Fen. It's alright."
Raising my head, I inspected the end-result of my unintentional rampage. Four perpendicular scorch-marks coated the nearby wall, tiny trails of gray-black vapor drifting from the crevices in the wood and the painting I'd cloven through, a watercolor depiction of several archaically dressed ponies strolling in a park. An overhanging banner was halfway burnt through and dripping with embers, the bottom tattered and blackened by my fiery breath. A crew of royal guards were scrambling to put out the fires, either through magic or via fire extinguishers. Princess Luna herself had appeared to yank down a still-burning tapestry and mystically expunge the flames.
"You...you monster!"
A trembling Prince Blueblood was pointing in my direction, his heavily-dilated eyes enlarged with mortal fright. There was a light coating of ash on his previously spic-and-span face and the left side of his once-immaculate jacket was lightly singed, the sleeve's elbow and shoulder bearing large burn-marks that left the garment partially sagging off of the prince's body. Although there was a wide berth between us, he was still slowly inching away from me and taking care to look nowhere but in my direction. Once he was far enough away, the prince's angst-filled timidness melted away and reforged itself back into self-assurance. Smoothing over his mane, he fixed me with a venomous glare.
"Just wait until Princess Celestia hears about this! I'm going to personally see that she puts you down!"
"Enough, Blueblood," a bleary-eyed Princess Luna commanded, causing the stallion to shrink. "If you wish to take up any complaints with my sister, she is in the throne room. You are dismissed."
Bowing his head, Prince Blueblood threw me a final petty grimace.
"Yes, Aunt Luna."
As soon as his tail disappeared around the corner, Princess Luna let out a heavy sigh.
"Just as 'charming' as usual. Now then, what exactly happened here?"
"Fen?"
I looked between the two mares. "The prince was being inappropriate towards M-...Fluttershy so I stepped in to defend her. Suddenly, I felt a pain in my hind leg that traveled up to my chest."
Fluttershy stared up at me in shock. "That sounds like you had a heart attack!"
"You should see a professional," Princess Luna advised me. "We were lucky that the fire was contained, otherwise the whole castle might have gone up. No one was hurt but you may not be so fortunate the next time."
"Yes, Your Majesty," I said lowly, feeling like an ass. "I swear, I feel fine now."
"That is good to hear. If you are up to it, there is something that I would like to show you."
"May Fluttershy see as well?"
Princess Luna turned and looked over her shoulder. "Yes, she may. Come."
When Fluttershy pointed a wing indicating for me to go ahead of her, I noticed with sickening dismay that the first few primaries were black and lightly coated in ash.
"Mother..."
She folded up her wing. "It's nothing."
"'Nothing'? I almost barbecued you!"
Clasping both sides of my face with her hooves, Fluttershy stared directly into my eyes.
"Fen, I'm fine, really. I know you would never do anything to hurt me."
Her conviction in that belief was so absolute that my remorse and panic vacated the premises.
"Okay," I finally said and Fluttershy relinquished her grip.
"By the way," I questioned as we started walking. "Were my flames blue?"
Fluttershy thought for a moment. "They were...yes."
"Weird..."
Folding up that question and storing it away for another time, Fluttershy and I followed Princess Luna through the castle but instead of Tyr's room, she led us down two short flights of stairs to a location I'd never been before. She pushed through a pair of double doors with circular windows and we arrived in what was easily the largest kitchen I had ever seen. Six walk-in ovens were situated against the adjoining wall, metal racks loaded with bread visible through the doors' rectangular windows as they baked and filled the room with their hot scent. Next to the ovens were three large chrome sinks, each one attended to by a servant diligently washing the piled-up stacks of dishes and utensils. In the center of the kitchen were three aisles of six sizable stoves where chefs were busy at work manning (ponying?) the appliances, cooking or frying vegetables and soups.
My attention, however, was directed towards a small island table where a squirrel was lounging on his rear and noisily snacking from a large bowl of assorted nuts. Roughly the size of a full-grown cat, this particular rodent was reddish-brown in color, his thick coat of fur flecked with silver-gray streaks while his throat and underbelly were creamy-white. A short scraggly gray beard sprouted from his rounded muzzle, the hairs sporadically poking out in different directions and spiraling in little loop-de-loops. He took notice of us and paused mid-bite, quickly swallowing a piece of walnut and scrambling to his feet, his bushy tail flicking erratically almost in a manner that suggested a timed rhythm. Inquisitive blue-indigo eyes fell on me, a polychromatic sheen dancing across the surfaces as reds, blues, greens, purples and yellows shimmered in neat rows of fluctuating brilliance.
"Is this him, eh? Damn, you've seen better days, Fenrir Lokison."
I know that voice...
"Ratatoskr? You're still alive?"
Swiping an arm-full of macadamia nuts, the squirrel climbed down a stool and scampered to the floor, dusting some crumbs off of his stomach and licking his fingers. He chuckled quietly and waved a paw in the air.
"Yeah, funny thing that. Gods and monsters are dying, yet the lowly tree squirrel keeps on living."
I don't know where he gets it from but in my experience, Ratatoskr always spoke in a face-paced manner and with a strange, almost sing-songy accent that was somewhat both educated and yet disorganized at the same time.
"What are you doing here? I mean, besides stuffing your face like a glutton."
He gave me an unimpressed, deadpan eyebrow raise.
"Right, listen here, Scooby-Douche. I just came from a very long journey. Have you any idea what it's like to travel through eighteen different fissures in space-time, one right after the other? No? Well let me tell you, it's a very exhausting experience, alright? So pardon me if I'm feeling a bit peckish."
Fluttershy knelt down to get a better look at the arboreal asshole.
"Hello, Ratatoskr. I'm Fluttershy. You're a red squirrel, aren't you?"
Ratatoskr chirped in delight. "Indeed! Sciurus vulgaris. Order: Rodentia, phylum: Chordata. Pleasure to meet you, love. And please, call me, 'Ratty.'"
"Our little associate here arrived an hour ago," Princess Luna exposited, ignoring the loud cracking of nutshells between Ratatoskr's teeth. "When Ratatoskr related his experiences post-Ragnarok, I knew that he would be of use to us regarding the Tyr dilemma."
"And how exactly is he supposed to help?" I asked skeptically.
Scooping up the remaining nuts, Ratatoskr deposited them into his open maw, filling his cheeks to full capacity and gnashing his teeth in a series of obnoxiously loud mastications. Seriously, how was no one else bothered by this?
"Well...seeing as how there's a comatose god that ought not to be here, and none of you have a clue as to the cause of his affliction, I thought that I might as well test my luck with finding a cure. If it's for Lord Tyr, I should try and help him."
"You know Tyr too?" Fluttershy inquired.
Ratatoskr swallowed, the bulge rolling down his throat and into his stomach. He then smacked his lips and nodded, wiping his mouth with a forearm.
"He's an old friend. Did a courtesy for me once so now I'm returning the favor."
"So why are you here now? Where were you months ago?!"
The red squirrel froze for a moment, then creaked his whole body towards me.
"Do you know anything about chrono-spatial multilateration?"
He then began laying out each finger as he spouted off a bunch of nonsense words:
"Astral-consciousness navigation? Multi-phasic transdimensional convergence? Omni-universal shifting via sub-atomic reconfiguration, combined with activation of the temporoparietal junction, thus leading to quantum and metaphysical transcendence?"
The vermin then reached up with a forefinger and jabbed it into the tip of my snout.
"I didn't think so, Poochie. Do you"-poke!-"Have any idea"-poke!-"How long it takes"-poke!-"To travel from one plane of reality"-poke!-"To another? Short answer: really bloody long!"
Urge to kill...rising...
"You impudent, obnoxious, little piece of shi-...!"
"That is enough, Fenrir," Princess Luna interceded. "Shall we get started, Master Ratatoskr?"
The squirrel in question folded his arms and gave me a little smug side-eye.
"Yes, we shall. Although, since I am half your size, it might be a tad difficult for me to keep pace. If one of you were to offer your services in transporting me, I'd be most grateful, yeah?"
Of course he was looking at me...
Princess Luna gestured with her head. "Fenrir, please give Master Ratatoskr a lift to Lord Tyr's room."
"Much obliged, Your Nocturnal Highness," the sycophantic squirrel praised, clasping both hands and rubbing them together. "Ooh! I'll be needing more of them macadamia nuts, a-thank you."
"Would you like them in a left-overs bag, Ratty?" Fluttershy offered.
"Mother!"
"Yes, please. Some of the best I've ever sampled!"
Ratatoskr then paused and threw me a questioning glance.
"Mother?"
"It's a long story," I sighed.
"Oh, well, in that case, I regret asking."
I'm certain I'm not the only one who's felt the overwhelmingly inexhaustible urge to grab the most irritating, arrogant jackass you know and throw them out of a fifty-story window.
Dropping to all fours, Ratatoskr arched his back and rocked backwards-to-forwards. Then, giving his rump a little (unnecessary) shake, he leapt forward and, gripping onto my left side with his damn nails, scurried onto my upper back and curled into a seated position, his tail doubling as a kind of organic saddle.
"Ahhh, comfy?" Ratatoskr sighed, shimmying himself on his bottom. "Let's-..."
"Say 'mush' and I'll have the kitchen staff turn you into a tree-rat stew."
"Right, okay...yeesh!"
The trek to Tyr's room took about twenty-five to twenty-six minutes from the kitchen and in that time, Ratatoskr expelled more words than a vomiting dictionary. Weird analogy, I know, but it actually happened. While we were all hanging out, Discord suggested a friendly game of charades and split the group into two teams of four; I was appointed the judge and given a rule book (because, of course Twilight had one on hoof) to memorize. When Twilight's team ended up winning, Discord accused her of not playing fair and spouting out "word vomit", at which point he conjured an anthropomorphic dictionary to empty its stomach of letters, words and phrases all over the floor. With that horrific display concluded, Discord told everyone, "Screw you guys, I'm going home!" and promptly vanished in a puff of smoke and sparks.
Anyway, Ratatoskr regaled us with stories of his travels. Sometime after Ragnarok, he claimed to have become bored and leapt through a fissure in space-time, referring to it as a "Bifrost ripple", arriving in a realm called Tír na nÓg or "The Land of the Young". Beyond a shining ocean of crashing teal-colored waves and an all-encompassing ring of swirling glittering mist, actually a type of Fae-magic called "glamour," he came upon a beach of bone-white sand and emerald-green, flora-bestrewn cliffs that towered hundreds of feet above him like monolithic stone giants frozen in time. The island itself was a vast paradise of eternally lush forests, playfully rushing rivers of crystalline water, crisp meadows and rolling hills of the sweetest smelling grass and vegetation imaginable. And then there was the fruit which, according to Ratatoskr was so sweetly ripe that a single bite could induce tears of euphoric bliss in even the most severe and cold-hearted of men.
Upon his arrival, Ratatoskr was introduced to the denizens of Tír na nÓg, who were all, regardless of gender or age, supernaturally beautiful specimens to behold, hence their common mortal appellation of "the Fair Folk." Tall and lithe, both the men and the women dressed in earth tones of brown and had complexions akin to glowing marble, sharp incandescent sea-green eyes and heads of hair ranging from copper to white-blonde. He supposedly charmed them to the point where they almost immediately invited him to a festival and he was escorted to a titanic silver tree bearing golden apples and strung with ignis fatuus lanterns of silver blue flames. Musicians played harps and flutes with so much skill and passion that the ash tree-dwelling miscreant found himself in a kind of dreamy, subconscious state of mercurial revelry that filled him with equal parts gaiety and terror. From dusk till dawn, the party raged and in that time Ratatoskr found himself drinking blueberry wine with the sea-god Manannán mac Lir, eating golden apples slathered in fresh honey and dancing with sprites and pixies on lily petals the size of oxen.
Things got a little complicated when he became entangled with the Queen of the Squirrel-Fae.
"So there I was, balls-deep in Queen Aibhlinn for the third time that day when her husband and his guards came bursting into the room. He yells, 'What have you done?!' and I, still thrusting away, responded with, 'Done? If you give me five more minutes, I will be.'"
Princess Luna let out an amused snort while a red-cheeked Fluttershy struggled to hold in a titter.
"So you cuckolded the Squirrel-Fae King? Then what happened?" I asked, no longer able to conceal my interest in hearing the rest of the tale.
"Well, after a couple of more thrusts, I yanked out my prick and leapt out of the birch tree whilst dodging a barrage of arrows. It took a few tries but I managed to open another Bifrost fissure and escaped before Rúadán's guards could skewer me like a freshly-caught stag."
Ratatoskr's tone was oddly wistful at the end.
"You know, I really cared for Aibhlinn, maybe even loved her. Who knows? My little swimmers might've done their job and I have a kit or a full litter back there."
"King Rúadán might not be merciful," Princess Luna said gravely. "If Aibhlinn did become pregnant, he might have ordered that the children be eliminated-..."
"Absolutely not!" Ratatoskr interjected abruptly. "What I mean to say is, yes, ordinarily you'd be right but Aibhlinn is close friends with the Morrígan and would almost certainly go to her for sanctuary. Believe you me, no one would dare cross that one."
Although he didn't go into a supreme amount of detail, the Morrígan appeared to be some sort of valkyrie-like figure of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a raven-goddess and psychopomp that led the souls of dead warriors to the Otherworld. Maybe she and Odin would've gotten along splendidly.
Fluttershy, possibly looking to alleviate the somewhat dour mood, broke the silence:
"Um, Ratatoskr? Where did you come from?"
That was actually a good question, one that I too desired to get answered.
"A long, long, long, long time ago, an acorn dropped from one of the World Tree's branches, bounced across the cosmos and dropped into the Well of Knowledge. The Well's keeper, the everlasting know-it-all called Mimir, picked up the acorn, dried it off with the sleeve of his tunic and breathed on it. The acorn cracked open and I emerged, albeit as a tiny squirrel no bigger than a man's thumb. Mimir raised me for a time, feeding me with dew from Yggdrasil's branches and teaching me the secrets of all reality. I then made my permanent residence inside of the tree and became a kind of messenger and explorer."
"You mean a gossip-mongering instigator?" I snidely remarked.
"I prefer to think of myself as a 'truth-bending self-entertainer,'" was the response. "If you can't laugh at others, then who can you laugh at?"
"That's not how that saying goes," I grumbled.
We finally arrived at Tyr's room, passing the quartet of Lunar Guards who stood vigilantly watching the door. Once inside, Ratatoskr, thankfully, hopped off of my back and scurried up onto the bed with an astounding speed and agility expected from someone who regularly scrambled up and down the Ash of the Nine Realms. Cupping his chin with one hand and tapping his foot, Ratatoskr hummed aloud and carefully studied the unresponsive man, murmuring to himself in some chattering, clicking dialect that had to belong to the tongue of his kin.
"Well, someone's had some work done, eh? Head's looking rounder, broader forehead, hooked nose...all in all, not a bad look. I mean, he still has that whole ruggedly-handsome thing going for him and while I miss the straight hair, he looks good with curly locks. Some guys get all the luck, n'est-ce pas?"
Princess Luna cleared her throat. "With all due respect, Master Ratatoskr, I did not bring you here to critique Lord Tyr's appearance. Can you determine the cause of his ailment or not?"
"Right, right, right, right, right," he waved a hand. "Let me have a look-see..."
Climbing up onto Tyr's shoulder, Ratatoskr proceeded to clear his throat, rather obnoxiously, I might add, and clapped, rubbing the palms together and flexing his fingers. Focusing intently on the god's face, we all watched as Ratatoskr's eyes erupted with a blue-violet luminescence, little yellow-white particles trailing off and popping like bubbles filled with bonfire sparks. It wasn't before long when twin swirling cones of prismatic light leapt from his optic nerves and washed over Tyr's face not unlike the beacon of a lighthouse. The man in the bed groaned but remained still, his own skin generating a soft ice-blue luster that danced above his flesh in smooth waves, a shrill, almost metallic ringing sound filling the air. I looked to see if Princess Luna had any clue as to what in the blazes was happening but her expression remained impassive.
"Chrrp-krru-rakaka! I do believe I've solved the mystery!"
The light-cones receded back into their usual hiding places and Ratatoskr hopped down towards the foot of the bed.
"What did you find?" Princess Luna inquired with bated breath. "What's causing this?"
"Well, Your Majesty, although I don't know the exact cause of Lord Tyr's comatose state, I've figured out why you're having difficulty entering his dreams. The fact of the matter is, his mind is elsewhere."
"What does that mean, Mr. Ratty?" Fluttershy asked gently.
"You see, my dear, Tyr is physically here but his consciousness, his astral self, his neurological energy, et cetera, appears to be missing. By the look of things, I would wager to say it's been AWOL since he arrived."
I took note of Tyr's chest and nostril movements.
"But he's breathing! How does that make any sense?"
Ratatoskr shook his head, glancing up at me as though I was an ignorant, snot-nosed child.
"You have a lot to learn, Kibbles 'n' Bits. The consciousness and the soul are separate non-corporeal constructs within every living being and are capable of existing without the other, at least for a time. Tyr's breathing is an automatic reflex, just the same as the beat of his heart or the respiration of his lungs. It doesn't take Hercule Poirot to figure out that one needs to recover his consciousness and pop it back into his head."
"But...where is Tyr's consciousness?"
Ratatoskr smiled at Fluttershy. "That's the rub, ain't it? Fact o' the matter is, we've got a semi-vacant organic vessel that's alive yet also sort of deceased, a kind of Schrodinger's cat, one left in a state between life and death. The truth is, I don't quite know where he's gone or how but I do have a rough idea of where it is that I have to go."
Flying off of the bed, Ratatoskr landed on Fluttershy's back and scampered into her left saddle bag, retrieving the small burlap sack she'd stocked with his left-overs and pulled out a sizable walnut. Briefly eyeing the hard-shell fruit, he carefully gnawed at the seam of the outer shell, successfully weakening it enough to wretch the two halves apart. Of course, came the part I dreaded the most. Shoving the whole thing into one cheek, Ratatoskr began crunching the walnut with his mouth-chisels, every scratch and scrape like a tiny nail being driven into my ear drums.
"You know, that is very annoying," I finally told him. "It's like someone is grinding glass beneath their boot-heel."
Ratatoskr ceased his manducating with an audible, "Hrrm?"
"Seriously, could you be any louder?" I traded glances with my companions. "How do you two not hear this? It's so grating that I think just the memory alone will intrude upon my most peaceful moments forever."
"You seem to know a lot about my chewing," Ratatoskr said with his mouth full. "Does it offend you? Huh?"
He swallowed and yanked the pull-strings shut, slinging the bag over one shoulder.
"I'm sorry that my chewing is bothering you. Please, don't get upset by my body's natural processes to provide itself with sustenance. I humbly apologize for my involuntary but wholly necessary eating sounds."
Did I already mention that I want to chuck this little smart-ass out of a window?
I felt something prodding me and found Fluttershy gesturing towards "Ratty".
"Fine," I mouthed, then begrudgingly exhaled a "Thank you."
"Now see? Was that so hard? And you're welcome."
You're welcome to forget the sharp teeth in my mouth and just hop on in!
"What will you do now?" Princess Luna asked Ratatoskr as he bounded to the floor and made his way over to the center of the room.
"With any luck, I'll find Tyr somewhere in the Astral-Spatial Continuum," Ratatoskr answered and raised a fingertip, the end of his nail emitting blue-violet sparks. "Not to worry, Princess, I'll find him and bring him back faster than you can say, 'multimodal reflection sorting.'"
Intoning some foreign language, Ratatoskr drew his nail through the empty air in a downward vertical line. The air expanded and contracted, rippling in a sort of fluid-esque motion before a tear in the fabric of the universe (or something to that effect) slowly unraveled before our very eyes. A grayish blue-purple ray of light bathed Ratatoskr in its brilliance, a whooshing semi-gaseous cloud of various hues flowing forth from the fissure, each one reaching for the traveler in the manner of a kraken's tendrils. It reminded me of the crazy in-between realm that I visited with Screwball and wondered if there was some kind of connection there. Was Yggdrasil a unique feature of my universe or was it some kind of all-encompassing, interdimensional nexus point?
Again, not something I'm intellectually qualified to tackle.
Ratatoskr turned around and grinned, giving us a two-finger salute.
"Miss Fluttershy, Fenrir. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye."
"Goodbye, Ratty!"
"See you later, Ratatoskr," I said in a pleasant manner.
Chuckling, Ratatoskr began to hum and as he passed through the Bifrost fissure, I heard him singing:
"I'm on the hunt, I'm af-ter you
Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd
And Iiiiii'm hun-gry like the woooolf..."
The fissure snapped shut and I had just one prevailing thought:
Yeah, Tyr just might be screwed.
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I hope we get the chance to see Haiti and skoll at some point in the future if they are even alive in this variant of Asgard and the Norse pantheon
Hmm
I dont know if i should call Magnus for this but we will see
11630190
Magnus Chase? Good one.
11630177
We shall see, won't we...?
I see that Fenrir and Kratos share the same disposition towards Ratatoskr
Also did Fenrir just do the transformation that Torgal does in Final Fantasy 16?
11630321
Indeed! Also, I've never played FFXVI so I don't know. I guess?
so
two observations about our nutty compadre:
1. the moment he said Tír na nÓg i instantly knew where he was(as an aside, i imagine Ratty's voice to have a vague irish lilt to it)
2. we should consider it an XK-Class event if he and Discord ever meet
Very good chapter, I like Ratty; I can actually imagine RG as that particular squirrel.
If they ever did a Norse God Movie (not marvel) then he’d be perfect as the voice actor for him.
So I guess they just overlook Bluebloods borderline sexual assault on Fluttershy and blatant abuse of power? Says alot about the Princesses to allow that to continue and not do anything about it.
Not really surprising though since practically everyone in this story still refuses to treat Fenrir like a intelligent individual and wanna keep using him like a pack animal for rodents and shit.
11630193
Yep!
glad to see another fan
Nice!
Alondro eye-narrows, "Squirrels... one of my arch enemies..."