//------------------------------// // Chapter 17 // Story: Odysseed // by AuroraDawn //------------------------------// She didn’t know how she had managed to do it, but she had slept. Thinking back on it while her eyes started to crack open, stinging and red, it was likely the combination of high stress, continual sickness, and—although indeed more gentle at the bottom of the ship—constant rocking back and forth, that had eventually lulled her off to sleep. She shifted slowly on the pile of hay, looking around to try and judge the time. After noting that there were no windows and the deck was just as dimly lit as before, she grunted and gave up, shifting onto her hindquarters to let the sleep drain away. There was a intense thump that echoed through the floorboards, cluing Applejack in to what had woken her up. A second one followed, rattling manacles bolted against the far wall that she just now noticed, feeling grim. It was getting louder, and closer towards her. She spun around on her straw bed to watch the stairs, and jumped up when she saw the shape of the huge Diamond Dog lumbering down the steps, fists clenched hard. He caught her eye, causing her to leap back, standing tall and trying to hide a shiver in the corner of the cell, and he grumbled at her. “Nyeeh. You. Pony. You’re troublesome, just like the other ponies!” “W-What do you want?” He scoffed. “Typical pony! Scared. Can’t handle water.” He stepped closer to the cell, looming down over Applejack. “Can’t handle shaking! Stupid. Take.” Applejack looked down curiously as he opened the clenched fist to reveal a root of ginger. She raised her head back to him, jaw dropped. “F… for me?” “Pony don’t want? Stupid. It make you feel better. Stronger. Less gross and sick! Take.” He thrust the ginger forward, passing it through the bars with two claws.  Applejack gulped and stepped forward, eying him warily, before grabbing the ginger and—when the claws let go as she gripped it—pulling it away. “...Thank you,” she said, lowering her head. “Sorry I’m so suspicious.” Marrow grunted. “Pony feelings don’t bother Marrow. Ponies waste all their time and energy being dramatic! Then they get sick. Come to Marrow to get better.” He shook his head. “Then chase him away when they heal. Stupid, stupid.” He turned his back to Applejack and started walking back up the steps, muttering ‘stupid’ with each step. “Hey, hold on!” He froze near the top of the deck. “What now?” “What, uh, time is it?” “Sunrise. Loose Cannon is cooking. Will bring breakfast to you soon.” He paused, his jowls cracking into a big, menacing grin. “Might make you sick, but no need to worry. Loose Cannon not murder you. Just bad cook.” He laughed, continuing his clamber back up the stairs. Applejack returned to her corner, watching the stairwell long after Marrow had left, eyebrows tilted in confusion. It felt like she was being pranked. She wished she was just being pranked. But as her hoof scraped against the old, splintering lumber of the deck, feeling the years of oil and washing through it, she knew it was real. Sighing, she slumped her head back against the wall. All too real. But at least there was ginger, she acknowledged, taking a small bite of the root and chewing it slowly, making sure to get as much out of it as she could. It was fresh, moreso than the one she had on the Croupiere, and her nose tingled from the refreshing spiciness. The juice filled her mouth quickly, which she was thankful for as it cut through the dryness on her parched tongue.  About half an hour later, after she had finished her ginger and taken to pace the cell to stretch her legs, the stairs creaked again with another set of steps. She sat down near the back of the cell again, jaw set and muscles tensed. A unicorn rounded the corner; a tall, lanky stallion with pale blue coat and a dark orange mane, carrying a tray in his magic. He was smiling almost jovially, his eyes practically closed and teeth put on display, though when he saw Applejack sitting solemnly in the shadows he froze, and faltered. “Ah,” he said after a moment, his smile returning, “You haven’t met me yet, and think I’m some cutthroat here to intimidate you, yes?” Applejack nodded slowly. “A fair assessment, yup.” “What did Marrow tell you about me, then? He did bring you something to help your seasickness, right? I asked him too.” Again she nodded slowly. “He did. Said you might poison me.” His jaw dropped. “Marrow? That son of his mother. I know he didn’t like any of us but to go and tell—wait. It was about my cooking, wasn’t it?” “Eeyup” she concluded, tilting her head towards the tray. “You’re Loose Cannon, then?” “Last I checked. Nice to meet you, though I’m sure you disagree. Perhaps with time… though I’m likely foolish for getting my hopes up. Sorry about the whole kidnapping business, though.” She looked to the floor and shook her head. “To Tartarus with you and your apologies.” “Oh, dear, I’m already halfway there,” he sighed, stepping up to the door and opening it. He set the tray down on the floor, halfway between him and Applejack, and then slumped down against the outside of the cell, facing the stairway. “Not that it’s any mind to you. Breakfast is hot oats and an apple.” Applejack watched the tray as if it might attack, and then came forward and drug it back to her spot. It was indeed as he had said; a wooden bowl with a ladleful of wet oats that steamed slightly, a water canteen, and a fairly fresh looking apple. She tasted a mouthful of oats and then sat down, cringing. “Look, I know I shouldn’t complain about being fed and all, but this is supposed to be oatmeal?” She glanced at it and shuddered. “Do you know anything about oatmeal?” “Dearie, my cutie mark is in marksmanship.” He shifted, raising his flank to display a cannonball colliding with a target. “Everything else is me trying my best.” He chuckled, resting his head between two bars. “You think I’m bad, though, you should see the rest of the crews. They complain, but it’s better me than them.” “None of you can cook?” “If we could we’d have gotten hired quickly somewhere fancy like Manehattan. Or at least hired somewhere. Even Port Horse is always full of restaurants looking for chefs.” “Port Horse?” He looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Ah, right, new to the sea and all. It’s the major trading location on the South Luna Sea. Smack dab on the entrance to Moonbridge river, which is the only passage up to the North Luna Sea.” “They’re connected?”  At this Loose Cannon faced her fully. “You Equestrian folks really don’t know much about the western hemisphere, do you?” “Aren’t you Equestrian?” He shook his head. “Nah. I was born and raised in Port Horse, actually, which might have been founded by Equestrians, but this would have been like a thousand years ago or something.” He turned his head up, thinking. “I don’t think there’s really a nation of any sorts around it. Nothing concrete, anyways. Lots of deer and gryphon tribes and villages scattered about the plains further in, but I don’t know anything about it. No, creatures stay and live in Port Horse because it’s free from any sort of outside rule, and there’s a lot of gold to be had charging access between the two seas.” “Has anypony founded a toll port on the northern edge?” Applejack asked, the business savvy part of her brain urging her to find out. She picked up another spoonful of the ‘oatmeal’, ignoring how it was mostly just warm oat soup. “I’ll admire your clever thinking, but if you weren’t so out of touch from here I’d laugh at you.” “What’s wrong with the idea?” “The northern inlet is technically Yakyakistanian, even though nopony lives there. Every couple years or so they send a raiding team and demolish any non-Yak outposts. So, yeah, bit of a nonstarter there.” “...Huh,” Applejack said, swallowing another mouthful. Loose Cannon laughed, slapping a knee. “You don’t have to eat that to make me feel better.” “I’ve lost most of the food I’ve eaten for the last three days, so it’s best I get something down,” she sighed. “Besides, the apple looks like a nice palate cleanser. It’s uh, you didn’t do anything to this, didja?” “Just picked it out of a barrel, dear. If it’s bad, let me know. Likely the rest of them would be too.” The rest of the meal passed in silence, with Applejack slowly finishing the bowl and finally, with some degree of relief, taking a bite into the apple. It almost burst with juices, the solid flesh crackling as she chewed. Her eyes widened in the first display of glee she had had since Canterlot. “Mmph. Apples good,” she spoke around the fruit, chewing happily. “Real good. Phanks.” “You’re welcome, dear. I’ve got to head back up myself now, so unless you plan on joining us on deck, hauling lines and setting sails, I’ll have to lock you back in for the time being.” Apprehension ran up her withers, and she shook her head. “One meal and a bit of ginger ain’t enough to win my heart over, honeycrisp.” “Fair enough. Do you have anything to keep you occupied?” She blinked. “I might have something,” she said, not wanting to reveal to the pirate that she still had the knife in her saddlebag. “Tell me, you got any spare bits of lumber?” Without speaking Loose Cannon lit up his horn, walked over to a pile of splintered and broken pieces of wood swept up into a corner, and levitated a few assorted chunks into the cell, setting them opposite the bucket.  “If you need anything, o’course, or say the hull springs a leak and you’re starting to drown, don’t be afraid to scream high tartarus.” “Reassuring,” Applejack scoffed, though she did smile.  After Loose Cannon had left, she settled down on the pile of hay on her back, and pulled out the collection of letters. Four of them left, she counted, and as she went to crack the seal on one she paused, wondering how much longer her journey might take. Was she rushing through them? She didn’t want to waste Luna’s words, but at the same time she definitely felt like this counted as one of those times she needed them.  It should only be a few days until they reached Source Island, and then from there home would be about a week, if she had learned anything about how far the ships could travel in a day. If things seemed like they were going to take longer, then she would ration the letters out to herself, but if it looked like she was on the home straight, then she could read them without guilt. Happy with that logic, she snapped the wax on the letter and opened it slowly, pulling out the clean parchment with familiar royal letterhead. Applejack,     You have opened one of these letters, meaning you’ve decided you needed some words from home. I don’t know if this is the first or last of what you’ve opened, but I hope it brings you as much comfort as the rest do.     Being far away from home can be difficult. I hope you can forgive me for bringing up my own troubled past—typical of me, no?—but I have much experience with this. I speak not of my imprisonment in the Moon, however, but of times before. Times when I would crusade against the cruelties of night, removing the jagged edges of darkness so the ponies of Equestria could sleep and enjoy the softer aspects, like sleep and love.     Oftentimes I would find myself far, far from home, trailing some monster that had been terrorizing citizens in settlements on the borders or even in foreign lands, stopping some sinister creature before it could gain a foothold in our Kingdom. Alicorn or not, I was not excluded from those same sorrowful feelings of loneliness and homesickness. Unfortunately, I did not have letters from one who cared, nor did the ponies who slept safely behind the walls I guarded appreciate or even recognize the work I had done, and it ate away at me until I became one of the very same monsters I sought to destroy.     I write this not to scare you or give you worry. Those times are gone, and I have learned my own lessons. Know this, Applejack. Your sacrifice and separation are not in vain. You are recognized, and appreciated. Upon your safe return, I know your family and friends will be there to celebrate your triumph. I too wait impatiently to see you again.      Muzzle high and hooves forward, Applejack. You shall see the moon rise over Sweet Apple Acres before too long.     Your guiding star,     Luna She set the letter down on her chest, cheeks blazing and full with a small smile. Even as she looked around at the brig, surrounded by dim, stained lumber that creaked and stank of oil, the hoofsteps of pirates and thieves rattling the roof above her, she couldn’t help but smile. She wished she could reply, send some sort of message of thanks back. She already had so much to tell Luna, and it had hardly been a week at sea.  A chuckle escaped her smile, a low one that came with the welling of tears in her eyes, which she wiped. Alicorns above, it hadn’t even been a week! She tucked the letter away in its envelope and back into the saddlebag before collapsing back onto the hay, staring at the low ceiling. The tears overflowed, running down her cheeks until they met her mane, and as thoughts of what the next week might look like given her current rate of setbacks started to run wild in her mind, the smile started to fade. She sobbed for a while, quietly, weakly, pathetically to her. She was supposed to cry on the inside. Solid, untouchable Applejack, everypony’s rock, rooted to the ground deeper than the oldest trees on the farm. She wasn’t supposed to ever actually cry, yet here she was, streaks of her orange coat darkened by the streams of tears that flowed, eyes stinging, throat swollen and catching. She didn’t know how long it was before the wave of emotion finally settled, her own mind finding calmer waters than the storm that had just passed. Standing up she shook herself like a wet Winona would before grabbing the water canteen and drinking heavily from it. The thought passed through her mind that she might want to ration it out, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at this point. It certainly seemed like Keelhaul’s crew would bring her more if she needed or asked for it, though she still wasn’t certain. How long would the pleasantries last until that same crackling green sword that he had held to Due North’s neck came plunging down through her back? She shuddered, forcing herself to think of the letter instead, and the warmth it had brought her.