Chapter 17: Taking Flight
"Okay, just a little... perfect! Hold it right there!"
Spark ducked his head down, grasping a couple of cables in his mouth and pulling them up to the wing joint of his flying machine, which was being held steady in Meadow's hooves and magic. One by one, he took a cable in his hooves, routing them between the metal bars and through pulleys before tightening them in place.
"Doing good?" he asked around the cables.
"I am," Meadow replied with a smile. "I could hold this all day."
I could, too, she mused. Barely a week had passed since the return of Nightmare Moon, and she was certain that her magic had grown stronger in that time. She'd been overly cautious in her feeding, taking much less than what she knew would still be safe, but it was invigorating. It was a small change considering how cautious she was, but she was sure she was able to lift a tiny bit more and hold it a little longer. Love was a powerful thing.
A thing she had not gotten much time to enjoy until now. Her office had been swamped for days, but everything had eventually fallen into place. Ponies were situated in more lasting accommodations, rebuilding was well underway, missing ponies had finally been accounted for, and most of the injured had been released from the hospital to rejoin loved ones. As a result, when the weekend had come around, Meadow found herself with the pleasant prospect of having a full day off rather than the scant hours she had been finding between work and sleep.
Free from work and other responsibilities, she could spend a whole day with Spark. There were many things they could have done, ones that most ponies might describe as "romantic" or the like, but she wanted to do something with more meaning than the same nonsense every other pony did. And what could be more meaningful than helping him out with a project he'd been striving toward for years, one that had earned him his cutie mark?
It was nice enough to spend the time with him, but it was even better to see how happy he was.
As he attached and tightened another cable, the weight of the wing-like protrusion began to lift. By the time he was finishing, the weight was gone. It still looked weird to her; the huge fan was tilted sharply forward, with the bulb of the magically powered motor set beneath it. It was somewhat monstrous in size, with each of the half-dozen fan blades being longer than she was.
"There, that's the last one," he said happily as he dropped back down to all four hooves. "You can let go now."
She did, and the assembly slowly pivoted to level. On the opposite side of the incomplete vehicle, the other wing matched its movements. Spark let out a happy sound, beaming at what was apparently a success.
Finally, he climbed into the pilot's seat, grasped the control stick with his hoof, and pulled. Then he grunted. Then he added another hoof, leaning back, and the pair of large propellers tilted back. When he pushed forward--again, with a fair bit of effort--they tilted forward. He repeated it a few times before letting go of the stick with a groan.
Meadow approached the nose of the vehicle, crossing her forelegs across a reinforcing strut beside Spark. "Something wrong?"
"Yeah," Spark grunted. "That's way too much weight to swing with that. The fans need a lot of tilt, but there's only so much swing I can put in the stick. The leverage is just too poor to get enough responsiveness." He prodded a hoof at the control stick, though it stubbornly refused to move. "I'm going to need to set up some sort of power-assist or something. Which means either some sort of power linkage from the fan motors or adding another motor entirely."
His expression fell. "...Or hydraulics. Ugh. I don't want to have to deal with hydraulics."
Meadow raised a brow. "I take it those are bad?"
"Eh." Spark grumbled and pushed himself up from the seat to clamber up, hooking his forelegs over the inner edge of one wing to look out along it. "Hydraulics do the job, and it'd probably be easier to implement properly. But they're messy and maintenance intensive. And I've never really gotten a hydraulic system working right. Not that I've really tried that hard."
Meadow turned and sat on the side of the frame beside him, resting a hoof on his side. "Well, you're pretty good at this stuff. I'm sure you'll get it all working. Who knows, maybe you'll find a better solution."
Spark pushed one of the fan blades, putting them into a slow spin, though he looked distant. Thinking. A moment later, his ears perked up, eyes suddenly focusing on the fan. Meadow knew that look from him; it was the look of an idea forming. His hoof dropped down, catching the next blade and bringing the fan's slow spin to a halt. He gripped it and twisted, watching as it--and its siblings--all turned together. "Or maybe... maybe I don't need to tilt the fans. Maybe I can tilt the whole vehicle!"
"I'm not sure if that sounds any better," Meadow said, skeptically.
"Sure it is. Look!" He tilted the blades again. "I modified the assembly so I could control the pitch of the blades for optimal thrust. If I could modify it further... I could make the blades have different angles at different parts of their rotation so that they make more lift on one side than the other. I could throw the whole center of lift forward and back, and tilt the whole vehicle! Instead of fighting against a hundred pounds of weight and the thrust of the fans themselves, I can have that thrust work for me!"
He wrapped a foreleg around her shoulder, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks!"
"Yep. I helped," she said with mock smugness.
Spark chuckled softly as he stepped back, looked over the vehicle for a moment, and then turned an enthusiastic grin back to her. "And you know what this means?"
She smiled. "I have no idea."
Rearing back, spark threw his forelegs into the air and cheered. "Complete rebuild!"
Meadow snickered. "I don't usually see many ponies happy about having to redo a bunch of work."
"Work, nothing," Spark countered as he hopped down, walking under the lifting fan. "This is fun, and can you imagine how great it'll be once it flies? It'll be something completely new! I spent a lot of time talking with mom and working out the math. It won't have the endurance or lifting capacity of an airship, but it'll be fast and super-agile." He placed his forehooves on the motor, looking back over the vehicle. "And now I get to make it even better! I can fix the lift fans in place, which will save weight. After that, I can move the motors back into the body and set up some sort of transmission to get the power out to the fans. It'll be a bit more work, but that stuff is simple, and moving the weight inward will improve handling. Oh yeah, this is going to be good!"
Sliding off of the hull of the vehicle, Meadow walked up to him while chuckling softly at his enthusiasm. "Well in that case, what can I do to help?"
"Could you hold this up while I unbolt it?" he asked, tapping the motor. "I need to tear down the entire wing and start from scratch."
Progress was swift, particularly with her help for the heavy lifting. By the time they stopped for the evening, the entire left-side assembly had been disassembled. Meadow slipped out while Spark put away tools and spare parts, returning with a couple of sandwiches and some drinks. They kicked back, munching on their sandwiches as they watched the sky turn orange-red with the sunset--although Spark cast a few glances back to his flying machine.
Turning back, he lightly nudged Meadow in the side. "Hey, Meadow? Thanks for all the help. I know it's not exactly fun, but it's a lot easier with an extra set of hooves helping out."
"Who said anything about it not being fun?" Meadow asked with a smile. "I might not understand all the technical stuff, but it's still quite enjoyable to see something so complex coming together. And besides..." She leaned to the side, leaning her head gently against his. "It's fun to see you so excited."
And the love flowed a little more freely when he was excited. That was always a nice touch.
Spark just chuckled softly. That was another change that made Meadow feel a bit happier; he was comfortable enough with her presence to no longer blush up the moment she said such things.
"Still, thanks," he said. "It really is a big help. You know, I'm a little jealous of you, sometimes. Your magic made everything go so much quicker today. I can't help thinking that if I had magic I'd be done with this already."
"On the other hoof, if you had wings, you wouldn't need to make a machine to fly."
Spark was silent a moment as he considered that. "Ehh, that's different. I mean, sure, then I wouldn't need a machine to fly, but that's not much of an accomplishment. An airship could still carry a lot more than me, and for a lot longer, and if all the math works out right, this thing here can probably outfly most pegasi and without tiring out." He rolled to his side to face her, a hoof reaching out to rub lightly at her chest. "Plus, I couldn't go flying with you that way."
Meadow slowly stretched out, enjoying the rubbing for a moment. "Mmm... I admit, I would miss that." Her head rolled to the side, smiling at him. "And I'm glad I can help out, even if it's so little. I'm glad I can be a part of something so important to you."
"Hey," he said, rolling over further until he was sprawled halfway atop her, nose-to-nose. "You are something important to me. This is just a nice extra."
Meadow giggled a little and planted a soft kiss on the tip of his muzzle. "That's so sweet, Spark."
She even managed to hide the instinctive embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing her being so sappy. Or more accurately, being sappy without it being an act. Sure, any pony who happened to peek in on them wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but she would. That made a difference because... because it did. Because.
She quickly spoke again, distracting herself from that train of thought. "And I really am happy that I can help out a little, even if it's just heavy lifting and holding things in place for you."
"That helps plenty," he said, nuzzling lightly. "But if you wanted to do more, I can teach you. And heck, taking things apart is easy. I need to take down the other lifting fan tomorrow. Maybe we could have you using some of the tools, tomorrow?"
Meadow lifted a hoof to her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. "Hmm... I could probably figure out which way to turn a wrench with no more than a couple tries, and I think I've finally figured out which end of the hammer to use..."
Spark snorted out a laugh. "I'm sure you'll do fine!"
"Thanks, Spark." She reached up, lightly running a hoof along his cheek.
He smiled, and then interrupted any further conversation by leaning in and delivering a long, deep kiss. Meadow wrapped her forelegs around him, enjoying the happy embrace, and savoring a tiny taste of his love. It was such a nice way to conclude a perfect day.
The rebuild took almost a month, with most of that spent on finer technical details that Meadow couldn't help much with; a full transmission system mating the two relocated motors in the body to the pair of fans--Spark was even happy that the redundancy would make the vehicle safer--and the modified rotor-hubs that had been the main point of the rebuild. Despite that, there was something wonderful about it all. Work was back to its calm, yet rewarding pace. She had spent much of her time with Spark, and not just working on his project; plenty of time had been spent chatting, spending time with his family, the occasional flight, or even just cuddling together. It was simple, yet satisfying.
Most notably, for the first time that she could think of since arriving in Equestria, she wasn't worried about something.
She wasn't worried about trying to find her way home; her home was here, now. She wasn't worried about having a purpose; her work was important to many. She wasn't even worried about her future; her life was good. It was meaningful.
And she had Spark.
She felt lighter, somehow. Uplifted. Everything just felt... right.
She was relaxing on a particularly lazy day, musing on the thought, when Spark came home with some unusual supplies.
He came staggering in the front door, hauling a large box filled with a variety of odd objects. It had a helmet and knee pads, as well as several thick mats, straps, buckles, and other odd parts. He grunted something around the mouth-full of box-edge as he hauled it in, and Meadow raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"What's all that?"
Finally releasing the box, Spark replied. "I'm making a crash-suit."
"A crash-suit?" Meadow repeated, suddenly finding something to worry about, again. "You're not expecting your machine to crash, are you?"
"Pfft, no!" Spark answered with a laugh, pushing the box further along with his forehooves. "But I didn't expect my first prototype to crash, either. It doesn't hurt to plan ahead." Then he stopped, looking thoughtful for a moment before smirking. "On the other hoof, it can hurt to not do so."
"I guess that's true," Meadow replied, still sounding a little skeptical. "But this one shouldn't crash, right?"
"Not unless I screw up," he replied. "The first one was just plain unstable. It was barely able to get off the ground and had no margin for error. This one, though? The amount of power it's got is pretty incredible, thanks to those new motors. I couldn't afford anything as high-quality as that before. That's going to make it safer, since with the new control setup, that power is how the whole thing is controlled! It's actually a pretty slick setup, if I do say so myself."
He stood taller, taking a confident stance and flashing a smug smile that Meadow was certain he had learned from her.
"So I assume it's almost ready to fly, then?"
"Yep!" he said as he started to pull items out of the box. "Got to get this all made up, then I want to do some more run-up tests to make sure all the controls are working. And then?" He flashed a grin. "Then it's time to fly!"
"I'm looking forward to it," Meadow said.
Soon Spark was checking out the various parts he'd bought, resizing a rugged bodysuit and cutting panels from the thick foam mat to act as padding. She remained silent in thought for many minutes, until finally speaking.
"Hey, Spark?"
"Hmm?" he asked, looking up from the padding he was currently sewing onto the neck of the suit.
"Could I ask you a favor?" she asked, her tone somewhat subdued.
His ears perked up, a faint sense of concern rising from him, which only made Meadow feel a little awkward. She hadn't meant to worry him, but her quieter tone likely seemed out of place after several weeks of happy enthusiasm.
"What's that?"
She offered a small smile, thankfully feeling that concern fade a touch. "I was just wondering... could you make one of those for me, too?"
Spark blinked, looking down to his partially-constructed suit, then back to her. "Well, I... this is just for test flights. I mean, when it's all done I'll know if it's safe, so we--I only need it for..."
"I know," Meadow said. "But I'd kind of like to go on those with you." Quickly, she added, "If you're okay with it."
Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you sure?"
Meadow's ears dipped unconsciously. "I-I know I might not have the best of standing to ask something like this, but... I know how important this is for you, and I'd just like to be there--"
She was interrupted by Spark throwing his forelegs around her in a tight hug. "Of course you can!" he said. "You've been putting a lot into making this happen, too, so you deserve to be there if you want. And besides..." he leaned back a little, a hint of a blush forming as he smiled to her. "I'd love for you to be there with me."
Her tension faded, though it left her feeling a little ashamed. Despite that, she smiled as she nuzzled into his neck. "You are so much better of a pony than I could ever be."
He replied by pushing a hoof firmly but playfully against her chest. "Oh, stop that," he said with a soft laugh. "We both know that's not true."
As Spark tightened the final strap buckling her into the rear seat of his flier, Meadow found herself reconsidering the wisdom of her request.
It had been easy to feel confident when working on the machine, with a potential flight being something off in the future. Little had changed. The flier had been moved only a short distance to the very middle of their backyard, but still sat there as still and silent as it usually did. That was about to change. Spark had done every bit of testing he could on the ground. All that was left was to try to actually fly the thing, and as the moment drew closer, Meadow's confidence waned.
Sure, the crash-suit was quite sturdy, if rather bulky. She could probably fall off the roof of their house while wearing it and only have the wind knocked out of her. The straps held her securely into the rear of the two seats currently installed in the vehicle, and the body of the machine formed a solid cage of reinforcing metal tubes, which Spark reassured her were designed to protect the passengers from any collision.
Even with all that, she couldn't help but feel nervous. It was new technology that had not been thoroughly tested. On top of that, she felt ashamed that she would have so little trust in Spark as to be so afraid. He had done everything he could to make this as safe as possible. Even if they did have a crash, they should be fine.
Well, a small crash. Nothing would help them if they slammed into a building at high speed, or if they fell from high altitude, or if the machine tore itself apart and sent them plummeting--
She tore herself away from her thoughts, focusing on Spark again. He was just finishing securing her. "--and you just pull on that buckle to release the whole thing. Okay, you good?"
"Perfect," she said, smiling with all the conviction she could summon.
He smiled happily and climbed into the pilot's seat, immediately in front of her own. Her own smile vanished the moment he could no longer see her, though she did manage to keep the fear she felt from showing on her face. Sure, she trusted him, but she wasn't sure if she trusted the machine. Or physics. And even though she did trust him to do his best, this was still an experimental flying machine. Spark had never actually flown this thing before. Nopony had ever flown anything like it, to her knowledge. It was a completely new and unknown thing, and she knew better than most that the most dangerous things in the world are those that are unknown.
She glanced up. The Cirrus was hovering over their house, about a hundred feet up. Naturally, Spark's adoptive parents had wanted to be there for Spark's first flight in his new machine. Sunseeker was peering over the edge, one foreleg still on the controls as he held the craft steady. Willow perched on the edge of the craft. She was often perching on ledges and railings, something of a habit to some pegasi, and was trying to look as nonchalant and relaxed as usual, but Meadow knew better. Willow was perched there ready to plunge down to help if anything went wrong. Well, try to help. If something did go wrong, there wasn't much she could do with them strapped securely into a metal cage.
Meadow had the impression that it wouldn't stop her from trying.
"Okay, I'm in," Spark called back, jarring her from her thoughts again. "Ready?"
"As ready as I'm going to be," she offered back.
Spark chuckled a little at that. "Okay then. Start it up!"
Meadow turned her head, glancing back. The heavily-padded helmet restricted her movements and vision, but she was still able to spot the large switch that Spark had shown her earlier. A faint green glow seeped out from under the padding over her horn, and a similar aura formed around the switch, pulling it over.
The motor hummed to life. It was a low, quiet hum, so very faint, yet so clear that it seemed she felt it more than heard it. She turned her head to the other side, flipping the matching switch on the other motor, and the faint hum grew slightly louder.
"They're on!" she called out, rather louder than was strictly necessary. It felt like those motors should be making more noise, particularly for how much power they had. She knew they were good--a large portion of the bits she had saved up had gone to a pony whose special talent was making the things, after all--but it was still surprising. Equestrian engineering was kind of scary.
"Okay," Spark called back. "I'm going to rev it up to test everything on the ground, first. Hold tight."
One of his forelegs moved slightly, pulling on some control, and the quiet yet tense hum deepened as the machine came to life. On both sides of her, the giant fans started to slowly spin, and as Spark pulled further on the control, they picked up speed. The soft sound of the blades passing through the air quickly grew to a hum, then a buzz, and eventually an outright roar. Meadow grit her teeth, hooves clutching at the edge of her seat as the sound grew, the vibrations penetrating all the way to her bones. The air blasted at her, the grass around the aircraft whipping in a frenzy.
A bang made her jump in her restraints, her head whipping to the side to find its source. Thankfully, nothing had gone wrong with the machine; the blast of air from the fans had simply blown the work-shed's door open.
Eventually, the sound diminished, and soon she could see the blades slowing. Once the sound had died down enough, Spark called back, "Looks like we're good!"
"Is it supposed to be that loud?" Meadow called back, trying not to sound as worried as she was.
"Oh, that's just the blade pitch. I had them flat for the ground test so we wouldn't lift up. It should be quieter when they're angled for flight." He was fiddling around with something up front for a moment before adding, "I think."
With the big lift fans still spinning, Meadow could barely see the change as the blades changed from vertical to an angle, but the change in sound was immediately noticeable. The deeper whooshing sound died away, replaced by the growing sound of the wind coming down from the fans.
"Okay!" Spark called back. "Let's see if this works!"
The sound grew as the fan's speed increased. Meadow's hooves tightened around the edge of her seat as the vehicle shifted slightly. It was all she could do; she had absolutely no control over what would happen now.
Her stomach lurched as Spark's machine abruptly came free of the ground.
The ascent was startlingly quick. It took only a couple seconds before they had risen higher than their house's roof. A few seconds more, and they were already approaching the Cirrus. Her stomach lurched again as Spark reduced power, bringing them to a hover.
A fairly unsteady hover. Already the flier was drifting to the side. The aircraft rolled sharply to the side, then back, as Spark tried to hold position. Despite the difficulty, she could hear him laugh. "This thing is a lot more nimble than I expected!" he shouted back. She didn't reply, too focused on holding on for dear life.
At least Spark was enjoying this. He turned his head every now and then, and she caught glimpses of a broad grin on his muzzle. He was having fun, particularly as he nosed the aircraft forward. With a small increase in power, it held its altitude while quickly gaining speed. It took only a few moments before they were moving as fast as an airship--which were not terribly swift fliers, after all--and soon were going quite a bit faster. She was a little curious how fast it would go if Spark really pushed it. She had the impression he was holding back. It was a test flight, after all.
After a few minutes of circling, climbs, and gentle dives, Spark seemed satisfied. He'd even grown a little bolder in some of the maneuvers, at one point turning so sharply that Meadow was pressed into her seat, the blast of air from the fans practically roaring beside them as he brought them to full power. It was a startling maneuver... but surprisingly fun.
"Well, I think we should land this thing!" Spark called back. It was her only warning before the world dropped out from beneath her.
Meadow let out a startled yelp as Spark sent them into an abrupt dive, quite a bit faster than the ones they had entered before. He was diving toward the familiar sight of their house, rolling the aircraft to the side a bit to angle them in. As the ground rushed up, he pitched the aircraft back and to the right, and Meadow was pressed into her seat again. Their horizontal speed was cut dramatically.
A strong shudder went through the right side of the aircraft as the speed bled off, and an instant later, the vehicle rolled sharply to the right. The lifting fans roared loudly as Spark tried to correct, but Meadow was lifted against her restraints as the right side plummeted. The whole world rolled around her. She heard Spark shout her name, the ground--now above them--rushed up to meet the falling vehicle, and she reached out with every ounce of magical might she had in an attempt to slow their descent.
And then the world reached up and bucked her in the chest.
For an instant, everything was confusion and motion and blurs. The first impression Meadow had was that her head felt too big, and there was a strange pressure on her chest. Then the world stilled itself. Her head hung upwards, guided by the pull of gravity to leave her staring at the shadowed grass above her. Fighting the pull of gravity and the weight of her too-large head, she looked down to the harness that was holding her there, upside down.
She groaned.
Another groan came from Spark, followed by a sudden flailing of his limbs. "M-Meadow!"
"I'm okay!" she groaned, despite still feeling rather disoriented. She looked off to the side, where one of the fans was still spinning. Beneath it was the remains of a fence, the lumber crushed and shredded by their crash. The fencepost itself had been cut clean through.
"Are you hurt?" Spark called back, and Meadow was struck by how fearful his voice was.
"I'm fine," she said. It might be stretching the definition of "fine" just a bit, but she was fairly certain she hadn't broken anything and was not in any danger at the moment. That sounded "fine."
It wasn't enough to reassure him, however. The flailing continued for a moment until he finally got the straps free and fell to the ground with a muffled "oof." He was immediately on his hooves and scrambled back to her. On seeing her, he stared for a moment, his fear clear in his expression. Then he buried his face against her chest, forelegs wrapping around her in a tight upside-down hug. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"I'm okay," she repeated, awkwardly returning the hug as best she could while hanging from the restraints. Her head was starting to feel even weirder.
Another thump sounded nearby, followed by Willow's shout. "Spark?"
Spark still had his head buried against Meadow's chest while apologizing, so Meadow called back. "We're okay."
Eventually, Spark calmed down. He had helped her down, and the two of them crawled out from under the overturned machine to survey the wreckage.
The machine itself was relatively intact. Many of the struts in the body were dented in and warped from the impact, but it had held together quite well. Several of the fan blades were mangled where they had struck the fence or dug into the ground. It was damaged, but repairable. The fence they had crashed on was destroyed, but that would be easy to replace, and the owners of the house were far more concerned with making sure they were okay than to worry about the damage to their fence.
Spark, however, had fixated on a piece of that fence: a fencepost that had been cut clean through. His ears drooped, as he stared at it in horror. It was only later that he told Meadow that he had been thinking of what would have happened if they had come down in a busy street instead of in an empty backyard.
Spark's enthusiasm was gone.
He hadn't entirely abandoned his project, but it was close enough. Sure, he spent some time discussing flight with Willow, trying to understand what had gone wrong. At that moment, they were both kicked back in the living room, while he idly poked at some math and figures he was working on, stuff related to aerodynamic lift and airflow and a bunch of other things Meadow didn't properly understand. But that was it. After righting the flying machine and hauling it back into their yard, Spark hadn't touched the thing. He'd barely even looked at it.
It had been a week.
They'd even gotten a notification from City Hall a few days after the crash. It'd been a simple notice of a new city ordinance, declaring that aircraft other than airships could not take off or land within city limits, for reasons of public safety, unless a landing field had been specifically approved by them. It hadn't named them specifically, but everypony knew why it had been announced. Meadow also hadn't missed that Big Shot was the second name on the list of city council members to approve the ordinance.
That all would have been bad enough, but there was one final detail that had made it even worse, to her: when Spark looked to her, she could feel how much he worried.
For a short time, she had found it annoying. Almost pathetic, even. He had a minor setback, and now he seemed to shy away from the project entirely. She could only think on how weak some ponies could be, how readily they give up.
It was a thought that had often brought a smug sense of satisfaction to her before, but now only made her feel guilty. It wasn't a comforting reminder of superiority. Now it was her own failure. She had chosen to align her duty and purpose with him, but the moment he had started doubting himself, she faltered, even if only in her own mind.
A memory echoed in her mind: I can protect him.
She glanced over to the fireplace. The mantelpiece had been taken by Spark to display a few items that meant the most to him, and he'd chosen three for the place. The first was the watch Meadow had given him, quietly counting away the time. Opposite that was an early toy flying machine, one of his first successes, and the one that had gotten him thinking of scaling the whole thing up.
And in the middle, in the place of honor, was a simple photograph of a familiar tan-colored unicorn, forelegs crossed over a low wall as she looked off into a sky lit with the colors of the setting sun.
Meadow thought it nicely represented his three biggest interests: intricate machinery, his quest for flight... and her.
His pursuit of one had potentially endangered another. She hadn't mistaken his reaction after the crash. He'd been so worried for her. He was still worried.
She considered that long and hard.
Maybe... I can help him.
Eventually, she rose to her hooves and slipped out.
Spark eventually came to investigate what she was doing. She had been certain he would, of course. She was making far too much noise to ignore.
He opened the back door to stare out at her as she banged on one of the flying machine's dented struts with a hard rubber mallet, a tool she'd seen him use for a similar purpose.
"Meadow? What are you doing?"
She paused in the hammering to look back to him with a smile. "Well, I'm no good with all the mechanical stuff, but I've proven myself enough with brute force that I figured I could at least straighten the frame out."
Spark stared silently for a few seconds before replying. "Meadow, you don't need to do that."
"I know," she agreed. "But I want to help."
He looked on sadly, trying to figure out what to say. When he didn't immediately reply, she added, "I know how important this is to you."
"It's not that important," he said. "Not as important as you."
"And I thank you for the sentiment," she said with a soft smile, and then tapped her hammer against the machine's frame. "But this is important to you, and that means it's important to me. So I'm going to keep working on it until it finally does fly, even if I have to do it all myself."
A wrench lifted in her magic, moving to hover just in front of Spark. "Although if you really want to keep me safe, I'd appreciate the help... because I haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing."
Spark stared at the wrench for several long seconds, an internal struggle clear in his expression. Finally, he sighed a little and reached out, taking the wrench between his teeth.
Meadow smiled a little more. "Well, let's get back to work, then!"
Spark hesitated for just a moment, and Meadow was quite satisfied to see the tiniest upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "...You know this is the wrong wrench, right?"
Repairs had taken a full week, thanks to a few parts of the frame being so damaged that Spark insisted they be replaced rather than just hammered out, and the need to replace several fan blades. Modifications were much quicker, as nothing serious had to be changed. The problem had not been mechanical, but a matter of how he flew the machine. He had spent much time with Willow trying to understand what happened and had given a brief explanation to Meadow that she felt she mostly understood. Something about how he had flown them into the jet of downward air produced by the fans and effectively lost all lift. He seemed convinced that he could easily avoid such problems now that he was aware of it. That meant that the only substantial modification had been the cage of bars Spark had welded above each fan. He felt that the added weight was more than worth the assurance that nothing--and nopony--would end up meeting those blades.
And so, early in the morning two weeks after the short-lived first flight, they had loaded Spark's flying machine onto a borrowed cart to start the trek to the edge of town, where they could conduct another test flight.
They had chosen the early morning to ensure that the streets would be clear, so that they could haul the overloaded cart along easier. They had hardly gotten to the end of the block before Meadow was wondering if it would be enough time. Even with her magic having grown a touch stronger, it was still a surprisingly heavy load to haul along.
"You sure you've got it?" Spark asked again, keeping pace beside her. He'd tried to help haul but had given up when his efforts had made no difference at all.
"I might need a nap when we get there," Meadow admitted. "But I'll get it there."
They continued on for a minute in silence before Spark's ears perked up, and he looked back to the cart and its contents. Meadow felt a sudden chill. The "I have an idea" expression looked truly horrifying when combined with a devious grin.
She could barely feel the difference as he clambered up into the cart, while she watched out of the corner of her eye. She certainly did notice when he delivered a strong buck to the stack of wood supporting the front end of his flier, which left it canted forward once the nose slammed down against the cart.
"Spark?" Meadow called out in alarm. "What are you doing?"
He had already scrambled back to the middle of the craft, flipping the switches to turn on the motors. "Climb in, Meadow," he called out as he dropped into the pilot's seat. "Time to get this thing going!"
"What? You can't take off inside the city, Spark!" Despite her words, she was already halfway into the cart, hauling herself up.
"It's not taking off if you don't leave the ground!"
Meadow cringed as she pulled herself into the flyer, dropping into the mess of safety straps in the rear seat. "This is a bad idea!" she shouted.
"This is an awesome idea!" Spark retorted, pulling the last of his straps taut just as the fans started to speed up.
"Those are not mutually exclusive!" Meadow cried out, even as she quickly buckled herself in, all the while intensely aware that both of their crash suits were laying unoccupied in the bottom of the cart.
Spark just let out what could best be described as a manic giggle as the fans built up speed, and the cart started to roll forward under its own power.
Meadow considered it a small miracle that they made it out of town intact, and was very thankful that the early morning streets were clear. Nopony had to go diving out of the way of a speeding, buzzing, not-quite-flying machine as they tore down the road. Turning had been... interesting. Spark managed some just by the flight controls, while others she was certain they only made because of her magically grabbing one of the wheels. Even then, they nearly tipped over the cart several times on the way there.
She did have to admit it was quite a bit faster than hauling it, however.
After such a dramatic start, the rest of the day was almost sedate by comparison. The machine performed flawlessly. Spark was more careful about how he maneuvered--saying something about a "flight envelope"--and it went without a hitch. By the time they came down a couple hours later, Spark was overjoyed.
Over the coming weeks, more flights were conducted. Small tweaks were made, the craft's maneuverability was tested, and more. The most frightening had been when Spark had intentionally brought the aircraft into the same state that had resulted in them crashing, but at much higher altitude. Armed with the knowledge from his own studies and Willow's input, and a calm hoof on the controls, the sudden drop had hardly started before he "slid" the aircraft out of the plunge and into stable flight.
He even stuck one of the older, weaker motors into a cart to provide a slightly less harrowing method of propelling the flyer out of town, an addition Meadow was most thankful for.
Then came the final touches. Over a couple weeks, Spark enclosed the exposed mechanisms with a metal shroud, while more plates converted the exposed metal frame of the body into a sleek, aerodynamic shell. He even painted it in a fiery orange that matched his mane quite well, except for the fan blades which were painted black.
"It looks great," Meadow observed as they stood back, looking proudly over the finished machine. It was then that she noticed a new detail he had snuck in; on the side of the vehicle's nose, in a brilliant green paint, he had given it a name.
"Songbird?"
His ears twitched, an embarrassed smile coming to his lips. "Well... bird because it flies, and song because..."
She didn't say anything. She just smiled, leaning lightly into his side.
Pulling the last strap of the trim, silver-gray dress into place, Meadow turned to observe herself in the mirror. Her mane and tail were perfectly styled. Her coat was meticulously groomed and smooth. Her hooves were polished and glossy. And the sleek and slightly suggestive dress accented her form as perfectly as it did when she had first bought it, so long ago.
Oh yeah, I look good! she thought with a satisfied smile. A moment later that smile faltered slightly. ...for a pony.
"Wow," Spark said from the doorway, to which Meadow immediately felt a blush trying to make itself known. She glanced back to see him dressed up in a simple suit. It still took her a moment to get used to seeing him dressed up like that.
He chuckled nervously. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about looking out of place," he said. "I think every eye there is going to be fixed on you, I doubt they'll even look at me."
She let out a soft laugh. "Oh, please. We're going to a gathering of a bunch of flight enthusiasts, engineers, and business-ponies. You're going there with an incredible new flying machine unlike anything anypony has ever made. An amazing new feat of engineering. I'm going there with a simple piece of fabric. You're going to be the center of attention."
"Maybe," he admitted. "But you make that piece of fabric look incredible."
"Flatterer," she quipped, teasingly flicking him with her tail as she walked over to her dresser and the jewelry box set atop it. A necklace seemed appropriate.
"Still, I don't want to be the center of attention. This party thing is supposed to be some big opportunity for my parents. They could get business from all over Equestria if tonight goes well. I don't want to distract ponies from that with my own stuff."
She glanced back, smirking a little. "Spark, isn't that exactly why they invited us along? Specifically so your machine could get more attention?"
"Well... yeah. But still..."
"Don't worry about it. This is your day. The opportunity to get you and your machine the attention it deserves." Meadow said with a chuckle. "Besides, I'm sure having their son accomplish such a great thing is going to shine well on them, anyway. You'll probably help them out even more just by being there."
"I guess," Spark replied, though he still didn't sound entirely convinced.
Meadow picked out the emerald necklace Spark had gotten for her; it was still her favorite out of the admittedly small collection. She was starting to levitate it toward herself when she stopped, eyes turning to another object sitting beside the jewelry box. After a moment, she set the necklace back, a smile growing as she instead picked up the little compass, which gleamed in the light as it turned on its simple string loop.
Beside her, Spark snickered softly. "You can't wear that to a formal party."
"And why not?" She countered with a playful smirk. "I can wear whatever I please, and there's nothing those stodgy, stuck up old ponies can do about it."
Spark was clearly trying to hold back a chuckle at her statement. "Okay, that's true," he managed to say. "But why that?"
Meadow paused. Bringing the compass up to look at it, she stared thoughtfully, her smile slowly fading. "...Because it means a lot to me."
Spark raised a brow to that but didn't say anything.
"It belonged to my mother," she said. "It's the only thing I have of hers." The only thing I have left to connect me to my hive.
She frowned a little, setting it down on her hoof to hold between them. "I almost ruined it. I'd been careless, and I crushed it. I tried my best to fix it, but it wasn't good enough. It was all... dented, twisted, and dirty."
The smile started to return. "And then you came along. You fixed it up. You took what I almost ruined, and made it better than ever."
Then she leaned in to softly nuzzle against Spark's cheek. "...Just like you've done for me."
He blushed softly, returning the nuzzles. The silence held for several seconds before Meadow made an exaggerated sigh. "...And that was disgustingly sappy, particularly from me," she said flatly, prompting a snort and laughter from Spark.
After the laughter had died down, and after a few more soft nuzzles, Spark's attention returned to the necklace... and she noted the familiar perking of his ears. "You know, if you're going to wear that... could I see it for a minute?"
Meadow hesitated. She had no idea what he might be planning, after all, but she still trusted him. She held it out to him, and he took it in his hooves, looking it over briefly. After that, he clutched the string in his teeth as he trotted over to her jewelry box and plucked out the emerald necklace, then to his own assortment of random junk to pull out a long piece of wire and a couple random tools--he probably had a half-dozen full tool sets scattered around various locations on their property by now--and deposited them all on the bed. He plopped down on the bed as well, strategically placing himself to block Meadow's view of what he was doing, much to her annoyance.
Just a minute later, he turned back to her, the compass dangling not from its string, but from a fine golden chain. A smile slowly formed on her muzzle as she took the necklace in her magic and slipped it on. She lifted a hoof to hold the compass up, looking closely at it. The simple little thing had been made cheaply, and as a result, the hole for hanging it was flush with the base; it was no problem for a string, flexible enough to leave the compass laying flat despite the odd angle, but it would have probably looked odd on the golden chain. Spark had solved that quite cleverly with a bit of wire looped through the hole to form a second loop, this time at the correct angle, so it would lay flat without twisting the chain. The wire was even curled neat and symmetrically, almost stylish in a way.
"It's perfect," she said, to which Spark leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek before happily trotting off.
She stared at it for a few more seconds before frowning slightly. "Seriously, though. How do you do that with hooves?"
"Lots of practice!" he called back. She just chuckled, then let the necklace drop into place and followed him.