My Little Teelo: Masquerade

by Ardwolf

Timeo Danaos Et Dona Ferentes

In which we finally discover the inspiration behind John O’Gara’s Christmas toast.

Teagan yawned as she woke up, blinking in the bright light. She could hear the quiet padding of bare feet on the stone floor. She sat up to find Søyle opening all the light pillars one after another.

“God morgen, min Dronning,” Søyle said with a wide trollish smile. “Sov du godt?”

“Søyle, it’s too early in the morning for Trollish,” Teagan replied, stretching. “Thanks for turning on the lights though. What did you just say?”

“I asked if you slept well,” the troll replied in English. “I am not used to speaking Hest in the World Below. We only use it when speaking to those who do not know Trolsk. It would be best if you learned Trolsk quickly, min Dronning. Most of your subjects do not speak Hest.”

Teagan sighed. “Yeah, I get it. Oh, and speaking of getting it, where are my clothes?”

Søyle paused in confusion. “You are wearing them?” she finally ventured with a creased brow.

“No, I mean the clothes I brought with me. I know this is what troll women wear but troll queen or not, I’m still biologically a human and it’s cold in here. I’d rather not freeze all the time, you know?”

“You are cold?” Søyle repeated blankly. “Why? Hejm’s clime never changes, it is always perfect.”

“Humans are used to higher temperatures, Søyle,” Teagan explained patiently. “That’s why we wear so many clothes compared to ponies or trolls. It also protects our skin from the sun. Remember me talking about that last night?”

Søyle visibly winced. “But, min Dronning, here in the World Below you are in no danger from the sun. So you should not need to cover yourself. Besides, trolls must see that their Dronning is a troll like themselves. With your strange coloration and mane they already think you may be more pony than troll. It is best if they see it is not so.”

“Wouldn’t carrying Crush prove I’m a troll?” Teagan asked reasonably, donning said weapon as she got out of bed, shivering.

“Once they drew close enough to see you clearly,” Søyle replied after a moment. “But from a distance Mountain Heart cannot be seen. Do you plan to meet every one of your subjects to let them see for themselves? There are tens of thousands of trolls in Hejm alone, min Dronning. I fear you would be doing nothing else for the rest of your life.”

“But I’m cold, Søyle. Look at me, I’m shivering! Can’t I at least wear a cloak, or something? Trolls may be immune to the cold, but I’m not!”

“What is a cloak?” Søyle asked, cocking her head. “I do not know this word.”

Teagan stared at her, and then sighed. “Never mind, let me just freshen up and I’ll meet you in the living room, ok?”

“The living room?” Søyle asked blankly. “Where is that? How can a room live?”

“You know, the room through there,” Teagan said waving toward the door to the outer chamber of her quarters.

“Ah, we call this room the første rommet, Dronning. In Hest you would say first room, because it is always the first room in a troll’s home. A place to greet guests and a place to defend one’s home if need be.”

“Humans call it a living room,” Teagan said, clipping her flashlight’s lanyard to her harness. “We use it as the main room of the house. Anyway, I’ll meet you there in a minute, ok?”

“Ja, min Dronning,” Søyle replied, turning to go as Teagan headed deeper into her quarters.

When she emerged into the “first room” not only Søyle was waiting for her, so were Emma and Alene Hule, along with Skrent and Flint.

Emma took one look at Teagan and wolf-whistled. “Wow, you really have gone native, haven’t you? But aren’t you cold?”

“Freezing,” Teagan replied morosely. “Alene Hule, is there some kind of spell to keep a troll warm in icy weather? Like on the surface?”

“Trolls would never need such a spell, min Dronning,” Alene Hule replied apologetically. “We do not feel the cold as others do. However, if you like I will inquire at the Clan Hest embassy to see if they have something. Many ponies find Hejm too cool for their liking and trolls tend to frown on overly bulky coverings. They may have enchanted items to aid them. The unicorns of Clan Hest are quite clever when it comes to creating such things.”

“What do trolls have against clothing anyway, Alene?” Teagan asked, hugging herself and rubbing her arms to try and warm up. She watched the chance for a nice warm sweater wave bye-bye as it boarded a train for warmer climes. The fact Emma was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans just added insult to injury.

“Nothing as such,” he replied, shaking his head. “However bulky clothing tends to be dangerous in the World Below, it can catch in narrow passages and while it may offer slight protection against an attack it also impedes the defender. Trolls prefer to fight unencumbered and view bulky clothing as unnecessary and risky.”

“And trolls hate pointless risk”, Teagan reluctantly admitted. “If you could make that inquiry as soon as possible I’d appreciate it.”

He bowed to her. “Som du ber om, Min Dronning.”

“Which means?” Teagan raised an eyebrow.

“As you request,” the Alene obligingly translated. “Alas, there is a Council matter that will not wait, and I must see to Hejm’s wards. They have begun to fail.”

“What?” Teagan exclaimed. “Fail? How could they fail?”

“That is what we are endeavoring to discover, Min Dronning,” The Alene said gravely. “It has never happened before. I am considered the most skilled at rune warding therefore it falls to me to see what I may see.”

“Then don’t let me keep you from it,” Teagan said hastily. “The wards have the highest priority, no question.”

“As you say,” the Alene nodded to her and turned to go. “I will have another ask Clan Hest about a warming spell for you.”

“Thank you. I hope you find the problem quickly, Alene. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” the troll replied over his shoulder as he left.

“Emma, you should get out while the getting’s good,” Teagan said forcefully. “Without the wards the city is open to all kinds of creepy crawlies. This is so far beyond safe now you need the Hubble Telescope to see it.”

“Not leaving you,” Emma replied flatly. “I knew it was going to be dangerous. Nothing’s changed.”

“Søyle, tell her,” Teagan appealed to the troll woman.

“Clan belongs with clan in time of danger, Min Droning.” Søyle said, shaking her head. “It is true without the wards the danger increases. Thus she should wear a traveler’s amulet to guard her sleep, and stay close to you or me for safety, but she belongs with us. With our enemies favoring cowardly bakhold to open assault would she be any safer in the city of the Princess of Ponies?”

That brought Teagan up short. After all, they had tried to assassinate Celestia in her own palace. There was no telling who had been compromised. Even high ranking ponies were suspect. Her shoulders slumped as she was forced to admit defeat.

“I guess not,” she said reluctantly. “Is there any way she can be assigned bodyguards like I was?”

“She already has them, Min Dronning,” Søyle smiled. “I am sworn to her safety and she is guarded by the Dronning av Fjellet herself, armed with Mountain Heart. What finer guards could she have?”

“We can’t be with her 24/7, Søyle.” Teagan objected. “What about Council meetings? Would she even be allowed to attend? Don’t they discuss really secret stuff?”

“Why would she not? If she gave her word to never speak of such things outside the Council chamber it matters not, especially if you vouch for her.”

“And I could move in with you,” Emma spoke up. “My bed is like five feet wide. I bet yours is even bigger. We did it in Canterlot so it’s no biggie, right?”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Teagan admitted. “My bed is twice the width of a king-sized bed. We wouldn’t be crowded at all.”

“Problem solved, then,” Emma said, grinning.

“Watch showing your teeth,” Teagan warned her. “Trolls don’t do that unless they mean to bite.”

“Good to know,” Emma said blinking. “How come?”

“Søyle, could you show her your teeth?” Teagan asked, smiling like a troll.

Leaning down toward Emma, Søyle bared her teeth in the approximation of a full human smile. The girl’s eyes widened as she took in the mouthful of ivory knives presented to her.

“Ooookkkkaaaaay then,” She drawled, blinking, “gotta say that’s pretty impressive. I never knew trolls had fangs that big. I thought trolls were omnivores like humans. Those look more like the teeth of a pure predator.”

“In days long ago trolls needed to eat whatever they could find,” Søyle said, straightening up. “We hunted the Deep Dark when we had no choice or the World Above when prey was scarce even there. When times were hard we turned to things like the Makilak, which taught us the value of growing our food for the lean times. Today we try to have meat with every meal, even though trade with the ponies has given us many more foods that are not meat. But the Council awaits us, Min Dronning.”

“So what’s this thing with the Council about?” Teagan asked as she and Emma followed Søyle out of her quarters.

“It is a matter best kept quiet, Min Dronning. You will know soon enough.” Søyle replied, leading them on.

ooOoo

Shadow Charm crept into Luna’s chambers, eyeing the big box warily. His horn’s glow was invisible in the brightly lit room as he listened for magical emanations in the chamber, his horn acting like a receiving antenna instead of a transmitter. He used only enough magic to sensitize his horn to other magics. It was the core skill of the Horns, and one that very few unicorns could actually master.

Rapidly sorting through familiar magical signals in Luna’s chamber, especially the wards hidden in the walls, he intensified his concentration until the background magic faded away leaving only the box in front of him. As far as he could tell, it was magically silent, although he knew from experience the box itself might be shielding the contents.

Delicately he shifted his attention beyond it toward Luna’s bed, not moving a muscle as the entire exercise was instead an exquisitely precise manipulation of magic in his horn that varied the level by less than a single microthaum along its six inch length.

Sensing no magic there either, he cautiously approached the scroll tube and did another scan, taking fifteen minutes to perform every magical test he could think of. Sliding out a long pair of tongs, and making sure his magic gripped only the ends of the handles of the three foot long device he carefully grabbed the scroll tube and cautiously retreated, much like a lab tech handling a radioactive sample in the earliest days of nuclear research.

Once he was out in the hallway other Horns cleared away from a small gray chest into which Shadow Charm immediately lowered the scroll tube. The lid slammed shut with a dull thud so quickly the tips of the tongs barely had time to get clear. A fancy golden seal was immediately applied to the chest’s hasp, welding it shut with a bright flash.

When Shadow Charm dropped the tongs into a second long narrow chest it was also rapidly closed and sealed. Everyone in the corridor relaxed.

Two earth ponies worked their way into the carrying poles, grunting with effort as they struggled to lift the first chest. They slowly trudged off, surrounded by half a dozen Horns, watching the chest for any evidence of magical leakage.

The second chest appeared far lighter as two more Horns lifted it and trotted away, surrounded by three more Horns, also monitoring.

Shadow Charm cracked his neck, relieving the stress from his high-risk recovery mission. He approached a pale green unicorn mare with her mane done up in a severe aqua bun.

“Report,” the unicorn commanded in a crisp tone.

“No evidence of magical emanation from the chest, ma’am nor the scroll tube. Assuming the scroll tube tests negative once opened I think it would be safe to lift the chest onto a wheeled platform to remove it for further study.”

“How long will it be until we know if the scroll tube is safe to open?” Wind Shimmer asked.

“Once inside the isolation chamber it should only be a few minutes,” Shadow Charm answered confidently. That chamber can withstand a gigathaum blast, so it should be fairly safe, even if the scroll is booby trapped.”

“I’d rather not test that,” Wind Shimmer replied with a raised eyebrow. “It would be a shame to find out the blast was just a tiny bit stronger than the chamber, hmm? All deliberate speed, but no faster.”

“No argument from me,” Shadow Charm assured her. “Should I get the platform?”

“Yes, let’s be ready to move it, but do nothing inside Luna’s chamber without my say so, got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” The other unicorn saluted sharply. “I like living, you know.”

“Don’t we all.” Wind Shimmer turned away to see a team of two unicorns carefully probing the mysterious chest with the most minute amounts of power they could manage, another Horn specialty. She noticed they were paying particular attention to the base of the chest, probably in preparation for moving it.

After a half-hour had passed another unicorn, a butter yellow mare with a sparkling red mane, came trotting up to her.

“They got the scroll tube open, ma’am. There was some background residual, but no active spells. They found a scroll inside, here’s a copy of the text on it.

Wind Shimmer took the scroll and started to read.

To the most beauteous Princess of the Night, Guardian of Dreams, Shepherd of Starlight, Luna, Royal Princess of Equestria, I bring greetings, salutations, and a precious gift given from deep within my heart.

First, I wish to convey my heartfelt appreciation of your efforts to combat the evil scourge known as Onsterflike Einde Van Die Duisternis Ewige. You have my upmost admiration for engaging such a hideous opponent for they seek no less than the ultimate darkness, to end all life and leave themselves the sole survivors, immortal in the mockery of life that is undeath.

It falls to you and your sister to see that this abomination shall not prevail. However, be warned! They are ancient and steeped in wicked guile and if given a choice would never stand and fight when their own existence hangs in the balance. They would far rather give up the fight, granting you victory for a few centuries while they bide their time and rebuild their strength, only to emerge once again after mortals have forgotten them.

The threat they pose cannot be tolerated, Your Highness. This dreadful evil, ancient beyond measure even to we immortals, must not rise again. To aid you in this I offer you a gift in full measure, freely given.

May it serve you well, may your victory be swift and utterly complete, and may good fortune smile on you, your sister, and your kingdom for the rest of time.

There was no signature.

Wind Shimmer rolled up the scroll and slipped it into her saddlebag.

“Shadow Charm, once you’ve determined it’s safe to move that chest I want it in the isolation chamber with all deliberate speed. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Where are you going? Don’t you want to oversee the move yourself?”

“I have a message to deliver,” She replied and teleported away.

ooOoo

Earth, Monday evening, June 9, 2013 9:16 PM Eastern Standard Time

“So, what’s this breakthrough?” the president greeted Admiral Spears in the Oval Office.

“We’ve determined who the queen of the seventh universe is,” Admiral Spears replied as the three men settled into chairs.

“That was fast,” the Chief of Staff commented. “How’d you manage that trick?”

“An anonymous tip,” the Admiral said drily. “Pretty sure it was Faust, but I can’t prove it. Take a look.”

Opening his brief case he handed each man a large photo.

“Pretty,” President Bent said, eyeing the scantily clad woman, “but she looks more like an extra from a Conan movie than a queen.”

“Pretty young, too,” Dennis Mitchell added. “She looks about my daughter’s age. This is a troll?”

“No,” Admiral Spears replied with a slight smile. “That is Teagan O’Gara, who is, Faust tells me, newly come to her power—and an earthier sort of queen, if you recall.”

The President blinked as he caught the pun. “Earthier, as in from Earth? That’s a painfully bad pun, Admiral.”

“The Fae are fond of wordplay, according to legend. Faust certain is,” the other man replied. “Since they can’t lie—or rather won’t—they’ve developed wordplay into a high art.”

“Isn’t she sixteen?” the Chief of Staff asked, “seems kind of young to be a queen.”

Admiral Spears shook his head. “Age is irrelevant,” he replied. “There was an ancient Persian ruler who was crowned while still in the womb.”

“You’re kidding,” the Chief of Staff scoffed.

“Nope, and keep in mind that was a human king. Trolls are fae, so we haven’t got a clue about their customs.”

“Why make a human girl their queen?” President Bent asked, staring at the photo.

“Again, no clue, Mr. President,” the admiral replied. “Humans do inexplicable things all the time. How could we predict the actions of a non-human sapient race we’ve never encountered?”

“This just keeps getting better and better,” the President complained tiredly. “These Fae are some crazy mix of science fiction aliens and supernatural fantasy creatures. To make matters worse, we just walked into the movie an hour late.”

“More like we arrived just before the final climatic scene,” Admiral Spears retorted. “I just hope we aren’t the ones wearing red shirts.”

The Chief of Staff winced. “That would be bad”, he agreed.

“What?” The President asked, glancing between them with a puzzled expression.

“Star Trek reference. Red shirts are the security people who get eaten by the monster,” his Chief of Staff replied.

“Yes, well, the United States is not some bit player, gentlemen,” The President said sternly. “I will not sit idly by while a potential threat to our country roams free. No matter what color shirt I’m wearing.”

“I would advise caution, Mr. President,” Admiral Spears said hastily. “While we don’t know the full capabilities of the Fae what we do know is not encouraging. Need I remind you what something like the Hulk could do to the city of New York—or Washington DC? Think what a Superman could do if he decided to become an enemy. We do not want to antagonize the Fae. It would be suicidal to provoke an attack by a neutral party—especially when we know they have superior technology. Oh, and speaking of which, look at these.”

He handed each man a stack of photos.

President Bent examined the first. It appeared to be one of the girl’s arm bands, blown up to fill the picture. It was a bit blurry, but he could see the artwork, a series of bas-relief snarling creatures he assumed were trolls, with huge teeth and claws. Below the trolls was a series of what looked like runes, deeply etched into the armband.

The next photo showed a close-up of her crown, a remarkably barbaric headband that looked incredibly heavy. He could see blurred jagged lines surrounding the rubies and what might be a lot of tiny interlocking runes around the rest of the crown.

The third photograph showed an enlargement of the stick she held in her right hand. He squinted, trying to see the details of the thing, shrouded as it was in dark shadows.

“All right, so she’s wearing some jewelry and carrying a stick. What about it?” The President asked finally, putting the photos down on his desk.

“She isn’t wearing very much, is she?” The Admiral asked rhetorically. “Notice she’s barefoot? Also notice the intricacy of the cloth?”

“Which means?” The President asked with tired patience.

“First, whoever took this photo did not catch her in her underwear,” The Admiral replied dryly. “She’s fully dressed—so to speak. The fact she’s wearing that jewelry cinches it. The jewelry isn’t just jewelry, it’s her regalia. That’s her crown, and those armbands must be some kind of royal armillae—which is a military insignia, at least among humans. The decorations on the armbands also point to a military role. Her crown is extremely intricate; my analysts believe it would have taken a jeweler several weeks to create something like that. That means she was the queen before she took this latest trip. Those rubies in her crown are ten carets apiece, and worth at least three million dollars. Each.”

“Pretty conclusive,” The President said, nodding. “Nobody else would be wearing something like that. What’s the stick? Her scepter?”

“Most likely,” the Admiral agreed. “Unfortunately, we can’t see all of it, and the part we can see is pretty plain. Analysts seem to think it’s made of iron or covered with iron because of the way it reflects light, but the darkness makes it hard to be certain. It might also be a literal weapon, like a mace. Given what legends say about trolls, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Am I imagining things or would all that stuff be incredibly heavy?” Dennis Mitchell asked doubtfully. “I mean gold is really heavy, right? That jewelry is massive. And if that club is made of iron could she even lift it?”

“There’s every possibility those items are stuffed with Fae technology or hollow. But even if they’re solid our investigations say she’s been taking instruction in Krav Maga for a year and a half with Matt Sanders at his dojo.” Admiral Spears replied. “At least ten hours a week. That would make her pretty fit even if it were just self-defense classes”

“What do you mean even if?” President Bent asked sharply.

“She’s being trained by a Green Beret, Mr. President,” Admiral Spears pointed out. “We know she’s the queen of a species of gigantic aggressive non-humans. If it were me I’d want all the combat training I could get.”

“Hmm,” the President agreed, “always assuming they’re ill-tempered brutes. How likely is that?”

“No idea,” Admiral Spears admitted. “Legends say they lived in tribes so I would guess among themselves they’d be no more quarrelsome than we would be. The stories don’t mention trolls interacting with each other, only with humans. Those stories are from a human point of view, so no telling how much salt you need to take them with.”

“Well, this changes one thing at least,” President Bent said, staring down at the photo on his desk. “Now I actually can meet with her. She’s an American citizen, whatever else she may be.”

“Don’t assume she’ll recognize your authority over her, Mr. President,” the Admiral said quickly. “Given she’s a troll queen she’s not likely to be impressed. She probably deals with nobles every day she’s in the seventh universe. Troll nobles. Not to mention the fact she’s a teenager. With two teenage daughters yourself you know how they react to authority. Now imagine a teenage troll queen, Mr. President.”

“Point taken,” President Bent said ruefully. “All right, what do you suggest?”

“First, don’t make her angry,” Admiral Spears said flatly. “Don’t threaten her, or her family in any way. Don’t say anything that might be interpreted as trying to intimidate her. That could end badly I think. Remember, we know nothing about the seventh universe. They’ve ignored us for hundreds of years but do anything to their queen and they might decide to make sure we don’t do it a second time. Since we have no idea what they’re capable of or what allies they can call on we definitely don’t want to appear hostile.”

“Second, Faust said you’d have to go to her. Now that we know where to find her it shouldn’t be hard to arrange a meeting in a place where she’d be comfortable—but not at her house or her school. Maybe her dojo, since she’d be surrounded by allies. Whatever you can do to keep her from feeling threatened, Mr. President I urge you to do.”

“Third, you might want to keep the initial meeting as casual as you can. Nothing official, keep everything strictly under the table. That means no motorcade or hordes of Secret Service bodyguards. No diplomatic entourage either.”

“You know my shadows would never agree to that,” the President said distastefully. “Not even an Executive Order could keep them from underfoot. On the other hand I can be my own diplomat. I’m a politician, you know. It’s what we do. When the time comes we’ll come up with something.”

Comments

[More Dakka]

It's always bugs me just how criminally few likes this story has.

[Ardwolf]

7397591

Yeah, I'm trying to submit the first story to a group that requires 100 likes. It's at 91, it's maddening.

[Jolly Wolfe]

7397674
I can't even imagine. But I also can't imagine how you don't have the 100 likes yet. You have my Like.

[Wellwater]

7397591 #trufax

Seriously, it's baffling.

Also yay plot!

[More Dakka]

Just saw this story in the related bar. How's things on your end?

[Ardwolf]

7974953

Well enough, the next chapter's at about 2k, problem is non-pony plot bunnies have ambushed me to Lovecraft country and I'm fighting my way past the tentacles to escape...

[Wellwater]

7397674 Did you get this in yet? Story's at 101!