Happy 2015, everyone! I come bearing crack!
TITLE: Faithful and Strong, Chapter Eight.
RATING: G.
WORD COUNT: 2,171.
PAIRING, IF ANY: None.
SPOILER WARNING: None.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here.
SUMMARY: Not everyone has trouble adjusting to the new routine…
“Carefully, now!” Bush roared, as the cannon wobbled ominously in its sling, “We don’t want to cause even more damage!”
“Aye-aye, sir!” Midshipman Clay said nervously, tightening his grip on the rope. Next to him, a unicorn with a bright orange coat stepped forward and sent a beam of magic at the cannon, no doubt trying to make it lighter or keep it steady. Bush nodded his thanks and looked up at the two pegasi that were holding onto the rope. “Is everything all right with you?”
“Yes, sir!” one of them answered, “We’ll be ready to lower the cannon as soon as the cart’s in place.”
Bush nodded, allowing himself a faint smile. He’d expected the job of removing the damaged cannons to take the better part of a day, but if this first cannon was any indication, they would be finished by the afternoon. Who would have thought that unicorns and pegasi would help make the old block-and-tackle system even more efficient?
On the beach, two ponies backed a cart into position. “Ready when you are, Mr. Bush!”
Bush took a moment to make sure everything was in place, then waved a hand. “Lower away!”
Carefully, men and pony alike fed out the rope, and the cannon dropped inch by inch until it finally was settled onto the bed of the cart, at which point the pegasi flew down to start untying the ropes. “Mr. Gear’s sending another cart!” one of the harnessed ponies called up, “It should arrive long before you have the next cannon ready! Hopefully that’ll help speed up the process somewhat!”
“Excellent! Thank him for me when you get back to his smithy!” The pegasi nodded their approval and closed the back end of the cart, and Bush waved it off before turning back to the crew still on deck. “Let’s try to keep the dawdling to a minimum, shall we? Get a drink if you need it, then head down below to start moving out the next cannon.”
Everyone saluted and moved off. Bush waited until the crowd had thinned a little before making his way below. It was remarkable how much a little extra help could make. The ponies had been on board for three days now, and most of the repairs had been completed. Even the captain’s broken window had been replaced. All that was left now was the cannons, and once those had been removed, it was a matter of waiting. After everything the men had done, they deserved a rest, if not a proper leave. That is, if Hornblower was willing to give it.
Bush couldn’t help but chuckle. Hornblower was the only one not getting into the spirit of things. The rest of the crew had adjusted surprisingly quickly to the idea of sharing space with talking ponies, and chatted with them affably, as if the whole lot had served together for years. Hornblower, on the other hand, tried to minimize contact with the ponies as much as possible, except for brief discussions with Miss Sparkle over how repairs were progressing and where to concentrate their efforts next. It seemed that, even if his ship was “infested” with ponies, he, at least, would try to maintain a polite distance. It was the captain’s choice to make, of course, but Bush couldn’t help but feel like he was missing a great opportunity.
The crew were gathering around the next cannon now, gently pushing it out of its place in the gunline. Bush turned his attention back to them, unable to resist tapping his foot as they burst into what had come to be known as “The Sea Horse Shanty.”
***
“Yes?” Hornblower said, the irritation palpable in his voice even through the door.
Bush saluted as he answered. “You wished to be informed when the guns had all been taken safely off the Lydia, sir.”
“Ah.” Hornblower nodded, “Did the…blacksmith give any indication of when he thought the new cannons would be ready?”
“He came round as we were sending the last cannon off. His initial estimate is about a week, but he believes he’ll get it down to five days once he’s had a good chance to dismantle one of our broken cannons.”
“Very good, Mr. Bush,” Hornblower said, looking back down at his papers, “Give my regards to the crew for their efficiency.”
“Aye sir.” Bush hesitated, then chose to take the risk. “If I may, sir…”
“What is it, Mr. Bush?”
“Well, sir, all major repairs have been completed on the Lydia. All that’s left are the cannons and the sails. And the men have worked tirelessly on the repairs. Do I have your permission to grant them a leave, of sorts?”
Hornblower sighed. “You may, Mr. Bush. But tell them that if they wish to visit the town, they can only go in groups of three. And they are not to trade with the locals.”
“I’ll relay the message, sir.”
“Oh, and tell them that they’ll be allowed an extra ration of spirits tonight.”
“There’s no need for that, Captain. Pinkie-I mean, Miss Pie-worked with one of the ponies in town and whipped up a barrel of cider that she promises will have quite the kick. She’s been saving it for when most of the repairs were completed.”
Bush couldn’t help but notice that Hornblower’s back stiffened at the mention of Pinkie. But his voice remained even as he said. “They may have the extra ration anyway. Perhaps some of them would like to mix their drinks.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Dismissed, Mr. Bush.”
Once outside, Bush rounded up the crew and made the announcement. The men cheered, and gave a few Huzzahs for Hornblower before dispersing. Bush nodded his approval and decided to make one last round of the ship before he went on “leave” himself.
He poked through each room, smiling whenever he saw evidence of the repairwork. Even the bare masts and gaps in the gunline were a reassurance of sorts that the Lydia would be fighting fit in no time at all. He would have to write a sincere letter of thanks to both Mayor Wedge and Princess Celestia for all the help they’d given.
When he entered the storage rooms to take a cursory glance at their foodstuffs, he ran into Fluttershy, who was humming to herself and happily feeding the cows. Bush coughed lightly, and she turned red and squeaked before turning to face him. “O-oh, Mr. Bush!” she said, smiling, “It’s good to see you. I thought you said everyone would be allowed to rest for a while?”
“That I did,” Bush said, “But I just wanted to make sure everything was in order. I didn’t expect to run into anyone down below.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, her blush deepening, “But when I heard you had animals down here, I just had to come and see them. And they’re so sweet, and fattening up nicely now that there’s fresh hay and oats for them.” She patted the nearest cow, who lowed happily. “I do hope my own animals are being taken care of while I’m away. I trust Zecora, of course, but…I can’t help but worry.”
“I’m sure they’re just fine,” Bush smiled, “And they miss you as much as you miss them.”
“It’ll be so nice to see them once I get back to Ponyville,” Fluttershy agreed, “But it’s nice to meet some new friends too. What do they do on board?”
“I…beg your pardon?”
“Well, you have the officers who come up with the plans and give orders, and the crew who carry them out. But what do the animals do? Are they just meant for companionship, or do they help the crew in some way?”
Bush prayed the color wasn’t draining out of his face. Thanks to Pinkie, the crew had been eating well, and they hadn’t had to dip into their supplies. That meant that they hadn’t been eating a great deal of meat, and thus, the ponies hadn’t gotten a sense of normal human eating habits. How on earth was he going to explain this?
Fluttershy was looking up at him with those big blue eyes of hers, smiling innocently. Bush’s nerve failed him utterly, and he said, “Yes, they help keep the crew’s morale up by…providing them with the comforts of home and…helping keep them warm on cold nights.”
“And I’m sure you do an excellent job of that, don’t you?” Fluttershy cooed at the cows. Bush clasped his hands behind his back. “You may stay below with the animals if you wish. I’m going to finish my rounds and then join the others to try your friend Pinkie’s cider.”
“I’ll be up in a few minutes. I’m almost done feeding them.” Fluttershy said happily, picking up another bundle of hay and moving on to the next cow. Bush nodded vaguely and left, making a mental note to request that the crew refrain from eating meat until they were on the open sea again. He didn’t want to imagine the look on Fluttershy’s face when she realized one of her new friends was missing.
***
Pinkie hadn’t been joking when she said her cider had a kick. When Bush woke up the next morning, he felt like he’d been kicked in the head, neck, and stomach. He had no idea what she’d put in that barrel, but it should probably be banned.
When he finally managed to make it up on deck, he learned that the rest of the crew was in a similar state. The few men who’d managed to make it up on deck were hiding in the shadowy corners, trying to move or speak as little as possible. A few of the ponies were on deck too, though they seemed unaffected by the cider, and were doing their best to leave the crew to their misery. Bush appreciated that, if nothing else.
Then three high-pitched squeals of excitement ripped through the air, causing every man on deck to wince as one. Composing himself as best he could, Bush made his way to the railing and looked down. Celestia’s chariot was sitting on the beach, and three tiny ponies were dancing around it, while a familiar orange pony dismounted, shaking her head affectionately. Then she glanced upwards and spotted Bush. “Howdy, Lieutenant!” Applejack called up, waving a hoof, “Nice morning, isn’t it!”
Bush lifted a hand in greeting, but otherwise didn’t comment. Applejack said something to the small ponies, then made her way up on deck. She paused when she got a good look at Bush, then shook her head. “Pinkie made her ‘Cider Special’, didn’t she?”
“You’ve had it?”
“Once. And once was enough. Though it looks like it gets to you humans more than it does to us. Don’t worry, the worst should pass by afternoon.”
“Thank goodness for that.” Bush said, hoping that Hornblower wouldn’t come out to see his crew in this state; his disappointment and chastising would be almost bottomless.
“Listen, Lieutenant,” Applejack said, fiddling with her hat and looking chagrined, “You probably noticed I didn’t come alone.”
“It was hard to miss.” Bush agreed, massaging his temples.
“Well, see, my sister wanted to hear all about my adventures on the ship while we were dealing with the blight. Then she ran off and told her friends-they’ve got a sort of club, y’see-and they all wanted to see your ship for themselves. Apple Bloom was badgering me morning till night, saying that visiting their ship could help them get extra credit when they got back to school, and I didn’t have it in me to say no. So I brought them over to have a tour. Would that…would that be ok with you? I can have them sent right back home if it’s not.”
Bush looked over the side at the three ponies, who were now sitting quietly, looking up at the Lydia with wide eyes. “Is it all right with their parents?”
“Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both said they got permission. Besides, they’ve got me, Rarity, and Rainbow to look after them while they’re here.”
Bush hesitated for another second. Then he made up his mind. He’d deal with the consequences if need be, but who was he to stand in the way of a possible once in a lifetime opportunity?
“I’ll have to ask Captain Hornblower,” he said, “But I see no reason why they couldn’t look around, as long as someone’s there to keep an eye on them. Why don’t you take them to the inn and get them settled? I’ll have someone come round with the captain’s answer in a few hours.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Applejack said gratefully, “It’ll mean so much to them.”
As she went back down the gangplank, Bush made his way back down to his cabin. Hopefully two hours would be enough time for him to recover from the worst effects of the cider…and to figure out exactly how to phrase the request to Hornblower.
For reference:
Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Applebloom.