What Little Remains Of Terpsichore Ironheart

Napoleon wished he still had Elken with him, not for the first time. Previously, it was for nobler, more Knightly reasons- if Elken was still with him, Napoleon could still fight as a proper Mage-Knight, and the war's end could be made more favorable to the High Elves. Currently, however, it was simply because Napoleon was tired and his feet were sore.

He was going home, to Redwater. The city where he'd been born and raised, a major hub of riverine and maritime travel and trade- and among the first to fall to the invading Paladins. He'd given the fight everything he had, given the Paladins far worse than a bloody nose, and yet... He was out of favors, from the Living Earth and the various fairies he'd met over his career. His unicorn had abandoned him, thrown him into a snowbank, and ran off.

Waging a one-man war of reconquest was off the table.

Where did he go from here? Well, first... he went home.

Redwater itself had been destroyed, burned to the ground, and anything that wouldn't burn pounded into rubble by Hikaano artillery. Buildings old and new- theaters built in the first decade after the Iron Gates swung shut, next to towers erected scarcely twenty years ago- all laid low, with only the streets remaining. Napoleon let the streets guide him as his feet carried him home, people parting around him, afraid of the armed and armored elf in their midst.

When he stopped, it was in front of a horrible tent-like shack, its walls half of rearranged rubble and half of human-made oilcloth tarp, which also made up the entirety of the roof. The door itself was clearly made from scrapwood and nails by an amateur with limited tools, and it swung open to let out a hunched-over man, one arm in a dirty makeshift sling, who grimaced as he beheld Napoleon.

"I- I'm sorry, we didn't- we didn't have a choice-" the man began.

"This is my house," Napoleon said simply. "I used to share it with my brother Frederick before he went off to the Sunset Kingdom, and with my younger brother Joseph before he finally got accepted into the Order of the Splintered Lance. My name is Napoleon Ironheart. And you are in my house."

"I- sir, I'm sorry, please, we don't have anywhere else to go-" he pleaded.

"You are in my house, and don't yet have a cup of tea," Napoleon continued. "I've been a terrible host."

---

"Will... will it work?" Antiope asked, over a bowl of soup.

"It's worth a shot," Napoleon said, shrugging.

"The humans... They won't let it work," Antiope said, quietly. "They went through all this trouble to conquer us..."

"The humans can fucking try," Napoleon said firmly. "They only technically won; they are broken and limping, just like us, and all it takes is a few well-placed heroes to capitalize on their moment of weakness and plant the seeds of a better life."

"But-"

"Humans don't live that long," Napoleon reminded her. "Maybe ninety years at the most, when they live with elves. If we capitalize on the moment now, before the humans can stop us? If we establish our social dominance over this city this year, the way only Druids can, then it'll only take a century for every human living here to see it as the natural state of things."

"But how do we establish our dominance over the city?" Antiope demanded. "You've lost your unicorn, and I never had one to begin with!"

"Antiope, we can heal wounds and cure diseases," Napoleon said. "Sure, it used to be that didn't make us special- there was at least one Druid for every twenty elves, right?"

"Closer to fifty."

"Right, but humans don't have any Druids," Napoleon said. "Humans don't have everyday access to magic the way we do. To them, we are strange, mighty, mystical beings who hold the secrets of life and death. All we have to do is our jobs as Druids, business as usual, and acknowledge that, to the humans, we may as well be gods."

"Won't... won't the Paladins try to stop us?" Antiope asked. "They came through here looking for elves, last week. I had to hide under the rubble to avoid them."

"Ah, them," Napoleon said, nodding solemnly. "I've got a solution for that."

---

Redwater, even in its rubble and ruin, was a major city, and so the Paladins had stationed an entire company to keep order in the city.

A whole company, of one hundred Paladins.

Napoleon snorted derisively, as the city's entire garrison of Paladins lay broken and bleeding at his feet. Napoleon had been one of the greatest Mage-Knights ever born, and during the war, considered a day where he only slew a hundred Paladins to be a disappointment.

"Yes, well," Duke Sebastian Redwater said, watching this whole display. "You've made yourself clearly understood, Lord Ironheart."

"Have I, now?" Napoleon asked.

High Elves, in general, disdained intimidation and coercion. Morally, it was no way to treat another person, and practically, intimidation and coercion just bred resentment and hatred.

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Napoleon, currently, was as-yet-unconvinced of the personhood of Paladins, and he was also well aware that, in some circumstances, he didn't need someone to like him in order to get what he wanted out of them.

"You've made it clear that there's nothing we can do to stop you from doing whatever you want," Sebastian continued. He was visibly Irish- with dark red-brown hair, and pale skin with freckles, he certainly wasn't the classic highborn Hikaano. An officer in the Imperial Army who'd proven himself in battle and managed to secure a duchy in the aftermath. "You've also made it clear that what you want to do is live your life as a productive citizen who takes care of his neighbors. And..." Sebastian sneered a little. "You've made it clear that if the Paladins try to give you or your people a hard time for being elves, you'll beat them all comatose, one at a time."

"Ah, excellent, I have made myself understood," Napoleon said, grinning.

"Greenwood Village is yours, now," Sebastian said. "You're responsible for paying property taxes on it, which will be assessed by a mild-mannered desk-jockey who will be sent alone and unarmed into your territory. I trust you understand the importance of me getting my people back unmolested?"

"I do, yes," Napoleon said, nodding. "Anyhow. These Paladins are not dead, though they will likely wish they were, once they get their wits back about them."

The trick to it was fairly simple: as much as elves gained strength more slowly than humans did, elves lived forever, and therefore, any elf who put the effort in- and was older than a human- would end up at the plateau of humanoid strength and just stay there. Not for nothing did the High Elves produce the largest portion of exceptionally capable individuals of the humanoid peoples; alas, the days where that won wars had decisively ended, with the coming of the Scientific and Industrial Revolutions.

Still. Just because Napoleon's ability to slaughter Paladins like lambs hadn't won the war didn't mean the ability went away.

"I hope we continue to have a productive working relationship," Napoleon said, smiling pleasantly. "I'll just take my leave, now."

"There's still the matter of what I tell the Paladin's Guild about this," Duke Sebastian said.

"The Grigians have a saying for this," Napoleon began.

"Knowing the orcs, it is likely violently vulgar," Sebastian said.

"'I've seen worse storms in a kettle,' to signify a problem blown out of proportion," Napoleon continued. "Of course, they say that in Grigian, so it's more, 'ho visto tempeste peggiore in una pentola.'"

"Hrm... It'd need adapting into Hikaano," Sebastian said. "'A tempest in a teapot,' perhaps?"

"Works for me. Now, I really have to get going; I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon, though."

"Would you mind untying me first?"

"I would mind, actually."

---

As time progressed, and as Greenwood Village rebuilt- faster than the rest of Redwater, due to Duke Sebastian's 'compromise' confining the elves from the rest of the city- more and more elves came trickling in from wherever they'd been hiding. Not all of the elves who arrived were Druids- Napoleon always needed more Druids, and was currently talking to the humans of Greenwood Village about letting him take their kids into the woods to try and make some of them into Druids- but even elves who weren't spellcasters were still sources of High Elven culture, who could help speed up the process of getting the round-ears properly civilized.

There were a few people who Napoleon was especially glad to have around, though.

"Gods above, am I glad to see you again," Napoleon said, hugging his older brother tightly. Frederick Ironheart was still dressed like a Sunset man, in a blue kimono and thick-soled wooden sandals- how anyone could stand walking around in sandals was a mystery to Napoleon; one childhood blister between his toes had been enough to swear off sandals for the rest of his life. "You heard about the War, finally?"

"No, actually," Frederick said. "There was a major civil war in the Sunset Kingdom. I fought for the Sunset King against the Shogunate's military dictatorship, which had been driving the country into the ground, and saved the King's life on the battlefield. Of course, once the Sunset King won the war, he decided that us Shugenja with our syncretic faith were offensive to him, and outlawed our practices. And I, specifically and personally, was firmly asked to leave the country." Frederick sighed. "Well. I do wish I'd had more time to break things off with Akane more gracefully, but... our relationship wouldn't have gone anywhere in the long term, anyways. I'm a half-elf, after all- just as sterile as all the others."

Napoleon sighed. "Right, well... I know it's been a while since you went to college, but, you are still a trained Wizard and an architect, right? As you can tell by virtue of having eyes, this place is... kinda fucked, and I don't trust my ability to design and conjure buildings taller than two stories."

"I can handle that," a new voice said, approaching the brothers. Napoleon pulled back from the hug, and pivoted to behold...

...an utterly ordinary-looking High Elven woman. Slender, slightly shorter than average, gold-blonde hair, and an outfit consisting of simple, if well-made, trousers and a blouse. She looked a little familiar, but he couldn't place why.

"And... who might you be?" Napoleon asked.

"Ariel Silver," she said. "I'm an arcane researcher, and magical architecture is the majority of how I paid my upkeep for the past several centuries. Have you, by any chance, seen my daughter? Penelope Rosepetals? Red hair, tall and broad? She said she wanted to become a Mage-Knight, and was moving to Redwater to join one of the local Orders."

Napoleon inhaled sharply through his teeth.

"...Oh no," Ariel whispered.

"Penelope was a friend of mine," Napoleon said, closing his eyes. "She died in battle- threw up a shield to block a Hikaano artillery barrage, and got burnout so bad it turned her organs into a liquid. Saved our lives, but... There was no bringing her back from that. I'm sorry."

Ariel looked away, her eyes growing moist.

"Listen," Napoleon said, gently. "You don't have to be alone right now. I wasn't as close with Penelope as you were, but... She was married to my younger brother, Joseph; she was a close friend, and I haven't yet had the time to mourn either of them properly."

"You... Will you...?"

"I will," Napoleon said, nodding. "I will sit shivah with you. Come. We have stories to share; may her memory be a blessing."

Napoleon didn't know it yet, but only a week later, after days of weeping, and laughing, sharing stories and comforting one another, he would resolve to marry Ariel Silver, build a better world with her, and one day bring forth children with her who grew up proud and free, never knowing the lash of human imperium.

He looked forward to it.