Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Forty Nine - Home of the Wendigo

CHAPTER FORTY NINE

HOME OF THE WENDIGO

The gulls had left them, the last of the shrieking, feathered pests turning back for land a few minutes earlier. Now it was the familiar steady climb up through the cloud layer and then levelling out to settle beneath the pure blue sky and the sunshine above. Stock rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs, he’d been sleeping in the brig ever since the Captain had turfed him out of her cabin. This morning she hadn’t spoken to him once, except to give him orders. He’d half expected her to give him a few ‘stripes’ across his back for the way he’d spoken to her, and really, he wished she had. Anything was better than this.

“Mister Pepper, watch your heading when we breach, the winds can take us off course in these parts.”

“Aye, aye Master Stock.”

The gold coated pony with the black patches across his back was one of the boys from the Wind Wraith’s previous crew. All the bad seeds had been uprooted and sent on their way at the port, albeit with their last pay packet. The bilge rats may have been scum but they didn’t want any bad feeling coming back to bite them at a later date, and a pocket full of bits was a good way to soothe any ruffled feathers. Surprisingly though, most of the ship’s crew had turned out to be good ponies at heart, including the colourful ‘condiment twins’ as they were jokingly known. They were quite an enigmatic pair: Salt and Pepper, one gold on black, the other black on gold, brother and sister too. Stock thought he’d had one too many to drink the first time he’d seen them. Still, the ship liked them and they were damned good at the helm, especially Pepper - he had a way of squeezing a few extra knots out of the old vessel and making her sing, quite literally. He shook his mane; there was something distinctly strange about helmsponies, not to mention it was going to be a nightmare if these two teamed up with the Revenge’s crew – two ‘Salt’s’? Goddess, what a thought!

White clouds flowed thickly across the deck like fog, whipping silently past the crew. They’d seen it countless times before, and it never lost its excitement and the sense of anticipation. Moments later, brilliant blue sky and warm sunshine flood the sky galleon, one of the last of the Amethyst Fleet, the Wind Wraith. Pepper winked at Stock,

“Never gets old, eh, Master Stock?”

Stock shook his head, looking up at the sun and enjoying the feeling of warmth against his muzzle,

“No. It never does.”

The rest of the day passed without incident, with nothing more than clouds and the odd dragon this high up. Fortunately those large reptilian creatures usually kept a healthy distance. Stock marvelled at the speed of the Wind Wraith, the way she slid effortlessly through the sky as a salmon swims through a river. He liked the vessel - she had a certain charm which seeped into you as you got to know her. At first, he’d seen her as little more than a terrified animal, like a cornered and frightened cat that was likely to scratch you if you tried reaching out to it. He’d been wrong though, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. Although the reputation of the Wind Wraith had never been exactly favourable to say the least, it did come with certain advantages. Her sleek black hull and ornate carvings made her look like what she was; fast…and deadly. She was easily distinguishable from the other flying ships and her late captain’s reputation meant that many avoided her. Piracy was still relatively uncommon around Equestria and the Wind Wraith had a natural protection from it, but sooner or later, even a sky galleon had to land. Stock, having once been aboard a vessel that had been attacked by pirates, always prepared for the worst. Passing out orders, the catapults were brought up on deck and slotted into their cradles, together with a little ‘something’ that the griffins had kindly gifted them with. It was…strange.

Longus, the First Mate, stared at the device scratching her head,

“I’ve never seen its like, Master Stock. Any ideas on what it does?”

He hadn’t. It was a long brass tube like thing on some sort of swivel mount. The box it came in contained a number of waxed card packages, with yet more paper and string parcels of ‘something’…he shook his mane, perplexed.

“It came with instructions apparently.” Stock replied peering at the sheath of notes that had been tucked underneath the brass tube, “Anypony here read griffin?”

There was a general shaking of heads.

“Guess that’s that then.” Stock shrugged, “Chuck a sheet over it lads and we’ll leave it until we find somepony who can translate.”

One of the crew tapped him on the shoulder, “Master Stock? Captain’s calling you.”

Grumbling under his breath the big stallion nodded and headed aft where the green pegasus mare was standing on the quarterdeck, peering down at him.

“Yes, Captain?”

“All in order, Master Stock?” Cyclone asked

“Aye, Captain. We’re making good headway, should be arriving some time tomorrow afternoon.” Stock stood respectfully waiting for her reply. Instead, the Captain just nodded at him and return to looking at her map - the same map she’d been staring at virtually every single time he wanted to speak to her. He hadn’t the heart to tell her she was holding the stupid thing upside down.

As the day wore on, the Wind Wraith began to sing. Her song was one of the sky, the clouds beneath her keel, and freedom, a song that calmed the soul and made you feel at peace with the world. Stock smiled to himself. Several of the crew had commented on the amazing change in the ship since Aeon had been ‘removed’ as Captain. ‘And not before time either’, he thought gruffly, re-tying one of the rope lines. Honestly, he’d have to have words with some of these deckhooves - sloppy rope work would come back and bite them on the arse if gales hit. He lifted his muzzle, scenting the air…they were close to the mountains now, and the way the old girl was slipping through the sky meant they would likely be coming in to dock sooner rather than later. Still, they would wait until morning; there was no way on Celestia’s green earth he was going to trust some of this lot with docking at night with the wild gusts they often encountered around here. One day, there’d even been that…’thing’ - the flying beast that had the crew cowering and even the ship trembling fearfully. Whatever it was, the frightful thing had been scared off by the denizens of the fortress. He didn’t particularly care for them either, but at least they paid well, and that was what was important. Stock yawned; it was getting towards time to change the crew for the evening and he intended to go down and get an early bed - even if it was in the brig.

The ship’s bell sounded and the rested crew heaved themselves up onto the deck. Orders were passed, jokes made, good natured jibes exchanged…the usual background chatter of a ship’s crew at work. Stock wandered over to the water barrel and swilled his face. Goddesses that was better! Wiping his muzzle the large stallion gave himself a shake and made for the hatchway, pausing to give his cutie mark a scratch. It had been doing that a lot lately, ever since he’d had that falling out with Cyclone. Usually when she…

“Oh!”

A lantern holding Cyclone stood in front of him, looking startled,

“I…I didn’t see you there.”

“No, Captain.” Stock said quietly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

He moved to walk past her but a hoof reached out and stopped him, “I’d like to see you…in my cabin.” She paused, “Unless you need to get away, I know you’ve been on duty most of the day and…”

“-No Captain, it’s fine.” He nodded to her and waited for the green mare to pass him and head into her cabin.

It was a little chilly inside today, but not too bad. Braziers were strictly controlled on board, and fire crystals the usual order of the day. This particular one, was one of the items they’d traded for with the Llamalian merchant. Stock could feel his eye twitching just looking at the thing.

“Rum?” The Captain asked politely, “I know it’s your preferred tipple.”

Stock nodded and gratefully took the beaker from Cyclone. She looked…nervous,

“Stock, I…look, this isn’t easy for me you know.”

He sat and waited for her to continue.

“Look, I…” Cyclone stomped a hoof, “Damn it, Stock, don’t just stand there like a statue! Say something?”

“Like what?” he asked.

The Captain’s ear twitched, “I don’t bloody know, do I? Something, anything!”

The brown stallion took a breath. She was impossible to deal with when she was like this, and retreat was usually the best option. He nodded his head,

“I’m sorry, Captain, if you’ll excuse me I am rather tired and…”

A mint green leg shot out and stopped an inch from his face, quivering. Cyclone’s expression was one of a mixture of rage, confusion and anguish,

“Stock! Please…please, I…I need you…”

That did it. The big male put down his beaker and sank to his haunches, brushing Cyclone’s mane from her eyes,

“What’s up, love? I hate seeing you like this.”

Cyclone hung her head, tears rolling down her face and landing on the decking,

“It’s this, us…I don’t like fighting with you - I didn’t want to! Now, I don’t know what to do to make things right! I’m not Gretel, she always seems to know what to do, and…and i’m frightened I’m losing you...”

Stock pulled her into an embrace, kissing her forehead as he held her,

“You’re the strongest mare I know, and the one I love with all my heart. I know you’re not Gretel, but you run a damned good ship, a happy ship, and if you’re not sure what to do sometimes or you just want to discuss something, speak to me or Windy. Between us, we’ll work it out…I know we will.”

Cyclone pushed into him, biting his ear and pulling at his neck until he all but collapsed onto her. Trying to avoid landing on the pegasus mare, Stock had to watch where he was putting his hooves as her assault on him continued. Eventually, he gently put a hoof on her chest,b

“Something’s up, isn’t it?” he asked.

“No!” Cyclone grabbed his foreleg and clung to it as if it were her last hope of salvation, “No…I…” she closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes. There’s something I need to say.”

Stock smiled and kissed her on the muzzle. He may not always know what it was, but he could always tell when something was bothering her. Cyclone was an open book, the polar opposite of him in many ways. Still, he loved her, and as infuriating as she could be, he’d listen quietly and be there for her.

“You know, I’ve been a bit…distracted lately?” She said quietly. Stock nodded. “Well, I’ve been feeling a bit off colour, and…it’s not really going away.”

Stock’s eyes went wide and he lifted Cyclone’s head, looking into her eyes. She looked tired certainly, and there were dark patches under her eyes, but she didn’t look much different from usual. He shook his head,

“You need to see the ship’s surgeon, we’ll go now.”

“Um…no, no you don’t have to.” Cyclone pushed him away and sat by the window, peering out at the clouds scudding by below them, “I’ve just been to see her.”

Stock’s heart leapt, “You’ve seen him? What did he say? Are you alright? What is it?!”

Cyclone smiled wanly, her gaze coming up to meet him,

“I’m pregnant.”

The big stallion felt the room spinning as he lost his hoofing and bumped into the bed before he could catch himself. What the hell was this? What was going on? He gave himself a shake and looked at Cyclone, her big eyes glinting in the moonlight,

“I…I don’t think I…um…heard you, properly.”

Cyclone laughed, “I think you did…Dad.”

Stock’s eyes went wide, “Oh, no…oh…oh no! I…I’m not ready for this! I…what do I do? We need to do something! Oh Goddesses…”

Clucking her tongue, the green mare grabbed Stock’s head in her hooves and kissed him,

“I’ll tell you what we need to do: Stop bloody panicking!” she fixed him with a hard look and bopped him on the nose, “Now, come on, get ready for bed. I’m not having my stallion sleeping in the brig any more.”

“I…no!” The big stallion said in alarm, “Look, you have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor and…”

“I’m not made of glass, you idiot!” Cyclone sniffed, “Stow that behaviour now, Mister Stock or i’ll have you sleeping in the longboat, understand?”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. Goddesses, he’d never felt so…so what? Happy? Yes…YES! That was it! He shook his mane and laughed out loud, suddenly prancing around the table and snatched up his rum, knocking it back in one gulp and leaped forward, taking Cyclone up in his big forelegs and hugging her surprisingly gently,

“Goddesses, I love you, my wonderful pegasus. I love you so, so much.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” Cyclone chuckled, “Now put me down you big galoot and come to bed, you’re wearing me out just looking at you.”

Stock gave her a kiss, nuzzling her neck and inhaling her wonderful scent,

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

************************

Morning. Cold, fresh and carrying the distinct hint of ice in the air. Up here, snow wasn’t a problem, not above the clouds, but they would have to descend soon. Stock had already snuck off to speak to the surgeon and get her advice. Splint was a good mare, but he still missed Doc. Maybe it was because she was a…well, a ‘she’, and it made him feel a little awkward talking about things like foals. She didn’t seem phased by it of course, but that just seemed to make him feel all the more foolish for not knowing anything about being a father. He groaned. What did he know about these sorts of things? Every time he tried to fuss over Cyclone he got an earful about being ‘overly protective’. Perhaps he was, but he wasn’t going to risk his love or their foal, and Cyclone had a tendency towards rash actions as it was. More worryingly, she hadn’t been herself at all lately, and the more he thought about it, the more the instances of sudden tiredness, forgetfulness and generally snapping at him began to make sense. This morning for example, she’d only reluctantly agreed to put on a thick cloak after he’d first put on his own. By the Goddesses, he hoped this wouldn’t last!

“The crew are ready, Master Stock.”

Stock nodded to the bosun, “Carry on, Mister Grille.” Leaning over the balustrade he called down to the helm, “Take us in Mister Pepper.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

“Hmph.” Cyclone shook her head, pulling the cloak in around herself, “I bet they’d prefer it if you were the…”

“-Stop!” Stock tapped her on the shoulder surreptitiously, keeping his voice low, “Don’t, love. You know they respect you, and they only say ‘Cap’n’ because you’re here - it’s ship’s regulation.”

“I know that!” the mare hissed back, “it’s just…oh, just ignore me, my mood’s all to hell. Splint said this would last a while yet, and then things should calm down.” She clucked her tongue, “no drinking, no smoking, no…you know.” She furrowed her brow, “It’s your fault you know, you did this to me.”

Stock shrugged, “You could have said no.”

“You know what I mean!” she hissed.

Stock sighed. Sometimes he wished he did, but mostly, he would just let it go over his head. Cyclone’s hormones were all over the place according to Splint, and he was likely to become a punching bag for her more ‘overt’ outbursts for some time to come. Good grief! Even the brig was starting to look like a welcome alternative, especially after she’d near kicked him half to death last night. He’d tried to sneak out when she’d fallen asleep, but she’d caught him in a choke hold and all but strangled the life out of him. Of course, this morning she hadn’t remembered any of it. All he could hope for now was that their foal was born quickly - preferably before she sent ‘dad’ to the afterlife…

A sudden warmth on his ear made him jump, the mare’s voice making him tingle,

“Mmm, still delicious.”

Come to think of it, in the eternal herd at least he’d have a quiet night’s sleep!

Whisps of cloud began to flow over the bow as the Wind Wraith dipped, gently taking them below the sea of white. Stock gave Cyclone a quick hug as they descended,

“Here we go…”

Only seconds later, the wide mountain range was laid out before them in all its eternal majesty, looking for all the world like the icing on a Hearths Warming cake. Come to think of it, this year they’d all but missed the celebrations. With the war, the business with Aeon, not to mention the new ship…it had just sort of passed them by. Still, there was always next year, and then they’d have something to really celebrate. Cyclone had bopped him on the nose more than once already for staring at her tummy, but he just couldn’t help it - was there really something in there? It didn’t seem real. What if it were a unicorn? Or a pegasus! Oh Goddesses, he hoped it wasn’t. If the foal’s mum couldn’t fly with her little one, both of them would be heart broken. But…what about a unicorn? There’d been some on his mum’s side but…

“Celestia’s sun kissed arse…would you look at that. I’ll never get used to this place.”

Cyclone’s words completely derailed Stock’s train of thought. Sure enough, coming up before them like a fairytale castle, was the magnificent structure of the fortress of the four winds, the immense home of Lord Maroc, Lady Arathea and their tribe. Stock shook his head in wonder; as beautiful a place as it was, he hated the thought of being ‘grounded’ to such a place. Give him the sky, the sea, and a steady hoof on the tiller any day of the week – now that was the life for a true free spirited pony. Movement off to starboard caught his eye: spotting their approach, several wendigo had already appeared and were watching them from a respectable distance. Thankfully, many of the crew were used to the nightmarish creatures, but others, Aeon’s old crewponies in particular, were giving them frightened glances. Stock waved to one of the creatures which flew closer than the others,

“Hoy! Herath? Is that you?”

The white coated creature whinnied and, much to the alarm of the crew, swept in to land on the deck. Stock trotted down the steps to the main deck and reached out to shake the newcomer’s hoof,

“Good to see you again, my friend.”

Herath nodded, “And you, Stock. A new ship I see; we were expecting the King Sombra’s Revenge.”

The big stallion shrugged, “A new acquisition, and,” he waved a hoof at Cyclone, “under new management too.”

Herath beat his wings, propelling him high up onto the quarterdeck where he gave landed and gave Cyclone a brief hug,

“Cyclone?” He grinned, “You’re Captain now?”

The mint green mare blushed, “Well, yeah. I am.”

“You look…different somehow.” Herath gave her a sidelong glance, taking in the way she looked at Stock who’d joined them, “Are you two…?”

“I’m going to be a father.” Stock grinned.

With a rush of wings and blue mane, Herath picked up the big brown stallion in a hug and rubbed his mane, laughing,

“I don’t believe it! You two! Bloody hell…” he shook his head, “It’s about time. You know, we used to have a sweepstake to see how long it would take, but we’d pretty much given up on it.”

“A…a sweepstake?!” Cyclone choked, “A bloody sweepstake?!”

“It was just a bit of fun.” Herath said quickly, backing away, “But look, please, be welcome and enjoy your stay with us. The hot baths are…”

“I can’t have one.” Cyclone sniffed with a toss of her mane, “I’ll have to have a shower instead, but you boys go right ahead and enjoy yourselves.”

“I was going to say the temperature can be altered to suit.” Herath finished raising an eyebrow.

“Oh!” Cyclone hung her head, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, “Oh…um…yeah.”

“Captain?” It was Pepper, “We’re coming up to dock now. Your orders?”

Cyclone nodded to Stock who leaned over the balustrade, “Take us in, Mister Pepper. Bosun, ready on the lines. Make us fast as soon as we dock and once the cargo’s offloaded, have the crew ready for some time ashore.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!”

That lifted the mood. The interaction between the wendigo and the promise of hot baths and good food at the fortress had the crew moving like never before. Stock liked it here - it always seemed to have a good feel to it, a sort of vibrancy and liveliness that lifted his spirits. Not least of course, because the fortress’s Lord and Lady were excellent hosts, but they were also damned good customers. This time, the Wind Wraith’s chest’s would be brimming with bits, and they may even be able to get her that new lick of paint she’d been enquiring about. Whether the wendigo had several barrels of it remained to be seen, but black somehow didn’t seem to be part of the colour palette here.

Herath stayed with them until the ship began to pull up alongside the dock while Stock peered over the side, overseeing the operation. It never failed to amaze him just how spacious the dock actually was, especially considering there’d never been more than one ship moored here whenever he’d traded with the wendigo in the past - but then this place had been build back in the days of the Crystal Empire. Or so the story went. He yawned; Cyclone had cracked him right on the back of the head last night and he was certain he was suffering from borderline concussion. Thankfully, he’d be able to have a good long soak and maybe even a mane trim while ashore. He nodded to himself - now that would be something to look forward to!

Cyclone leaned on the balustrade watching the ship being tied up, smiling at the sense of happiness that thrummed through the deck beneath her. Wind liked it here: the cool mountain air, the incredible scenery - it was a place she remembered with fond memories from a long, long time ago. She was excited about the birth of her Captain’s child too, and had actually been the first one to mention the possibility of her pregnancy. It wasn’t that surprising though, the two of them shared a bond that was nothing if not intimate, and Wind had been so understanding and kind, it had really helped with the fear Cyclone was feeling deep down inside. At the moment her mind was a battlefield of emotions; fear, excitement, dread, anticipation, all of them warring for supremacy. All that however, would have to take a back seat as the Lord of the fortress has appeared in person to meet them. Fortunately, she’d been here enough times to learn how to tell them apart in their wendigo forms, and the enigmatic Lord Maroc, for reasons of his own, would always greet official visitors like this. The first time she’d been here it had terrified her, that was until Gretel explained it was the wendigo way of showing they had nothing to hide, a sort of ‘cards on the table’ gesture. Still, as blood chilling as they appeared, they were impressive beings who, she lamented, could fly too.

“Well this is a surprise!” Lord Maroc said, trotting aboard and kissing Cyclone’s hoof in greeting, “I was expecting Captain Gretel and the Revenge, and instead I have a new Captain and a new ship to welcome. Truly a wonderful day!”

“My Lord,” Cyclone curtsied, “Please, be welcome aboard our vessel.”

“Indeed!” Maroc gave himself a shake and allowed the magic within him to drain away. Cyclone and the crew watched in amazement as his coat changed from white to grey, his wings seeming to melt back into his back as his body became more pony like before their very eyes. The Lord grinned, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest, “Come on, let’s have a look round!”

The ponies aboard kept a respectable distance, but it was hard not to notice the inquisitive glances and stares that the wendigo was receiving as Maroc examined the Wind Wraith and marvelled at her. He was fascinated by her, marvelling at the ancient vessel and even spoke with her for a while. Cyclone felt a tinge of jealousy at that, especially as Wind seemed to be giggling like a school foal. She shook her head and wrapped her hoof around Stock’s foreleg for comfort. She just wished she could get her emotions back to normal before she ended up coming apart at the seams. Thankfully, Stock was here in case she made a complete arse of herself in front of the wendigo. Speaking of which…

“My Lord?” A grey mare appeared with two maids in tow. Cyclone recognised her immediately.

“Darling!” Maroc said, trotted over to his wife, “Please, come and meet our new Captain!”

Cyclone curtsied to Arathea who bobbed her head in return,

“New Captain?” the newcomer asked curiously, “I sense a story. You simply must tell me all about it over tea and cakes.” Arathea smiled happily, “I’ll have everything made ready for you after you’ve had a chance to freshen up after your journey and we can have a nice chat.” Movement by her hind legs drew Cyclone’s eye. The wendigo mare noticed it too and chuckled, looking back at the source of her interest, “Come on now, don’t be shy, come and say hello.”

A tiny grey muzzle with big round yellow eyes appeared, half hidden behind his mother’s legs. The little face looked nervous, yet full of curiosity and made Cyclone’s heart do somersaults; was this…was this what she was going to expect? Such a tiny life, a precious, beautiful little creature! Oh Celestia…he had such tiny hooves! And that little tail - it was adorable! Arathea nudged the foal forward,

“Come now, don’t be rude. This is Cyclone, she’s the Captain of this ship.”

The little foal stepped out, his big eyes as wide as saucers, “H…lo…” he squeaked and jumped back behind his mother, peeking out timidly.

“Hello, little one.” Cyclone smiled down at him, “What’s your name?”

Arathea chuckled, “We named him ‘Vela’, it was his great grandfather’s name.”

“Vela…” Cyclone beamed and unconsciously rubbed her belly. She hadn’t really thought of names, but it was certainly something to think of later, and tea and cakes did sound like a good opportunity to discuss it with another mare. As much as she loved Stock, Wind and the crew, it would be nice to chat with someone outside her ship based family for a change.

“I understand you have some trade goods for us?” Maroc cut in, “Do you girls want to go and have a look? I want to have a chat with Stock about his latest adventures on the high seas and look around this magnificent ship!”

The two mares rolled their eyes in unison, laughing at the behaviour of the stallions. Some foals just never grew up, and maybe it was just as well. Cyclone beckoned the lady of the fortress to follow her into the hold while Maroc…well, he wandered off with Stock to do ‘stallion things’. She smiled; she liked the lord of the fortress, even if perhaps he was just a little eccentric. He was certainly different.

That evening, dinner had been a quiet affair. The Lord and his family, Stock and Cyclone, had sat together in a large conservatory overlooking a frozen waterfall which held a captivating beauty that left Cyclone feeling strangely wistful. The rest of the crew were dining in the main dining hall and no doubt already discovering the delights of the local beers and spirits. Maroc and Stock had subsequently retired to the study where the Ship’s Master was currently enjoying a cigar - much to the irritation of his Captain who had grumbled about it being ‘bad for the baby’. He suspected it was more likely that she would have like one too. He grinned knowingly - that would teach her for kicking him all night! Goddess damn it, he thought to himself rubbing his back, he could still feel it now.

Maroc was a good listener, despite Stock’s limited conversational skills; he certainly wouldn’t describe himself as any sort of wordsmith - far from it in fact. He was the sort who preferred to sit quietly and listen, but tonight, Maroc seemed very interested in the story of how they had acquired they’d Wind Wraith. Stock was careful to avoid certain topics of course, ‘just in case’, despite the delicious spirits being proffered and the excellent cigars. Overall, he felt the most relaxed he had in ages…

“Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to call it a night.” Maroc said yawning and stretching, “As much as I’d love to chat longer, our nurse won’t be happy with both of Vela’s parents coming back in the small hours.” He tapped the box of cigars, “Good?”

Stock nodded, “Very. I don’t have much of a chance on board. Naked flames are restricted, and smoking is, well…” he scrubbed his mane.

“You don’t have to tell me!” Maroc laughed, “Arathea doesn’t like me smoking either, but everything in moderation I say. Besides, they have an extra sense you know.” He tapped his head, “They know when you’ve done something they disapprove of.”

The door opened and the two mares entered.

“Dear? Our friends are worn out, and we’ll need to see to Girta too. We can’t leave the poor girl up all night you know.” Arathea gave her husband a look of disapproval, “And I think you’ve had enough of those things tonight too!”

Maroc winked at Stock, “See?”

Stock nodded with a quiet smile, “Well, back to the ship for us then. Could somepony give us directions, Lord Maroc, I’m afraid I’ve lost track of how to get back.”

“Nonsense!” Maroc laughed, shaking his head, “You and your good lady can have our guest rooms for the duration of your stay.” He clucked his tongue, “Staying in a cabin indeed! Make hay whilst the sun shines I say.” He pulled a braided rope by the fireplace and in seconds a maid appeared in the doorway,

“My Lord?”

“Ah! Chutney my dear! Would you mind showing our intrepid explorers to their room?”

The orange coated maid curtsied, and after exchanging pleasantries, Cyclone and Stock found themselves following her down yet another of the expansive corridors.
Stock could barely keep his eyes open and let out a large yawn as they walked. Goddesses, he could just curl up there and then.

“You stink of cigars.” Cyclone complained, “And booze.”

“Jealous?” the big stallion grinned in reply.

“You’re bloody right I am!” the Captain sniffed, “I could just go for one too, but…” she shook her head, “I don’t know, I just keep getting odd feelings all the time.”

Stock frowned, “Odd feelings?”

“Mmm” Cyclone nodded quietly, “Like I want a salt lick, you know? A really, REALLY big salt lick. Honestly, when Arathea was passing me these gorgeous little cakes all I could think of was that I had to have salt. Bloody hell, Stock, I feel like I want to roll in the bloody stuff. What the hell’s wrong with me? Am I going crazy?”

He smirked, “No more than usual.”

“Cheeky sod” she snapped, but couldn’t help be chuckle under her breath.

The maid cleared her throat, “Pardon me ma’am, but the kitchen’s open. If you like, I could fetch you some salt. We have recently had a delivery of some particularly fine Saddle Arabian Pink which is…”

“-Oh yes!” Cyclone gasped jumping in, “Would you mind? Please?”

The maid nodded pleasantly, “Of course, ma’am.”

Stock rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind salt licks, but that stuff could have a funny effect on a pony if they had too much,

“Love? Look, be careful with that stuff. Too much salt could be bad for the two of you.”

Cyclone clucked her tongue, “Aye, aye Master Stock.” She snapped off a mock salute and grumbled to herself. All Stock could pick up was words like ‘bossy’ and ‘killjoy’. He sighed. If this was anything to go by, the rest of the pregnancy was no doubt going to be ‘interesting’ to say the least.

The room they were given was everything they could have expected, and more, much, much more. It had its own bathroom, running water and even a four poster bed. Stock had never seen anything like it in his life and he’d been to some amazing places in his time - but…running water! He kept pulling the lever, which allowed a controlled amount of steaming water into the crystal basin below. Pulling the other lever allowed a similar amount of cold water into the same basin. Pressing the lever on the floor opened a brass flap allowing the basin to drain. He shook his head in wonder, trying it over and over again. It had to be magic, it must be! He reached up and rubbed his head. What it must be to have magic on call that could conjure such works as this. He washed his face in the warm soapy water and towelled off.

“What are you looking so thoughtful about?” Cyclone asked smiling up at him from the bed.

Stock climbed in next to her, settling into the large pillow with a sigh, “About our foal.” The big stallion smiled, “I’d like a unicorn.”

“A unicorn!” Cyclone barked, “Why?!”

Stock sniffed, “Why not? Think of the things he could do with that magic.”

“Magic!” The green mare laughed, “Anyway, what makes you think we’ll have a boy?”

Stock shrugged, “I don’t know, and I’d love a girl just as much. But…well, I just want a unicorn, that’s all.”

Cyclone shook her head and stared up at the ceiling, “I’ll love our foal whatever they are. Besides, what if we have a pegasus?”

“Then so much the better.” Stock rumbled, gently kissing Cyclone on the nose, “I’ve got a thing for pegasi.”

The green mare rubbed her belly happily, “So I noticed.”

Stock leaned towards her and snuffed her neck, “You can’t blame me, you smell so wonderful…”

Cyclone closed her eyes, a wistful expression crossing her face, “Love, we can’t…”

“I know,” Stock said nuzzling her, “but we can still cuddle, can’t we?”

Cyclone giggled, reaching for his ear and giving it a light nibble, “Oh, I think I can manage that.”

*****************************

It must have been just before dawn, that time when everything was silent and still. There were no birds singing here in the mountains, only the background sound of the wind as it blew past the window. Stock groaned, rubbing his sore back as he quietly slipped out from under the covers. Goddesses, that bed! It was soft - too soft for him, and to make matters worse, Cyclone had booted him full in the spine during the few minutes he’d actually managed to catch some sleep. Thankfully he’d managed to escape the death grip she usually had him in, probably due to the immense size of the bed, and had made a break for freedom. Snuggling into one of the gigantic pillows, Cyclone moaned quietly in her sleep, while Stock headed for the door. He’d thought about sleeping on the floor, but he was so bloody uncomfortable now, all he could think of about was going for a pee and a wash. He’d no doubt wake her up if he tried to do that in the guest room, so out into the corridors it was; with any luck he’d bump into one of the staff who would show him the way.

The fortress, even at night, was magnificent, if a little ‘cold’ looking with all that ice like architecture. Stock touched the walls; they didn’t feel icy, just ‘cool’. Weird. He shrugged and walked on - there had to be a bathroom somewhere along here somewhere, but every time he found a door it was…He sighed; he hadn’t even opened them. Walking brazenly into somepony’s room at this time of the morning was not only rude, but quite likely to anger them too, and so, in typical Stock fashion, he’d just walked on hoping to eventually find something that looked like a bathroom. The problem however, was that things ‘down below’ were starting to become critical, and if he didn’t find somewhere soon…

“Good morning sir.”

The unicorn maid bobbed her head and walked by, pushing a trolley laden with cleaning equipment.

Stock nodded in reply, “Oh, hello miss.” Suddenly he span round, “Excuse me, um, you couldn’t direct me to a bathroom could you please?”

The maid smiled, “Of course, sir.”

Thank the Goddesses! Stock thanked the mare politely with no small sense of relief, watching her disappear around the corner of the corridor before all but kicking the stall door open – and not a moment too soon. All that rich food he’d eaten earlier, not to mention the alcohol, had gone through him like a racing chariot. He let out a loud sigh of relief, staring at the ornate tiles and small dried flower arrangements. Good grief, had Arathea been at work in here too? It wouldn’t surprise him in the least - the mare was unstoppable, even with a foal. He scratched his mane and yawned; how long had it been since he’d been here last? It was only a few months wasn’t it? He couldn’t remember seeing a foal then, but in fairness, he hadn’t really been interested in them at the time. Maybe wendigo foals grew faster than normal ponies? Who could say? Stock sighed; His whole world outlook was changing, his narrow view of life and his expectations had been turned completely on their head. ‘How things change’, he wondered to himself.

A door opened and a waft of warm scented air tickled his nose. Was somepony having a shower? Maybe a bath? He finished up and opened the stall door,

“Hello?”

A grey pony appeared,

“Oh, good morning! Another early bird I see.”

Stock nodded, washing his hooves in the sink, “Aye. I’m sorry, but you don’t know where a pony can get a hot shower or a bath around here do you?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure,” the unicorn replied, “through there.” He motioned to the door behind him, “Showers and soap on your left, towels on the right, straight on for the bath. Water’s just nice too.”

Nodding his thanks, the brown stallion went to open the door, when the unicorn cleared his throat noisily behind him,

“Interesting to see another earth pony on the team here, you’re only the second one I’ve met since I moved in.” He held out a hoof, “Starswirl’s the name, Mister…?”

“Stock, just Stock, please.” The brown stallion replied, “It’s nice to meet you, Starswirl, but i’m only visiting.”

“Visiting?” the unicorn said furrowing his brow.

“Mmm,” Stock was beginning to feel twitchy about getting that shower, “I came in with the Wind Wraith yesterday.”

“Wind Wraith?” the grey stallion scratched his chin a moment, “A sky galleon?”

“Aye, she’s tied up at the dock and…”

The unicorn’s eyes went wide with excitement, “How long are you here for? I simply must see it!”

Stock felt like face hoofing. Not this again! What was it with these bloody unicorns? He smiled politely, “We’ll be leaving in a day or so, but you can come and have a look round tomorrow if you like. Just ask for me at the dock, one of the crew will know where I am.”

“Wonderful!” Starswirl grinned, “Now then, I’m holding you up - you go and get our bath and I’ll see you in a few hours.” With a flourish, the chirpy unicorn trotted out of the bathroom leaving a bemused Stock in his wake.

“’A few hours’” He muttered sourly, walking through into the shower.

The hot water was wonderful, and invigorating; a good soaping and scrub made all the difference in the world. Something was tickling at his mind though…’a few hours’…

Stock groaned, “Oh Celestia’s arse…”. ‘Tomorrow’ was more like ‘today’ in the unicorn’s mind, and he was probably right too. He’d completely lost track of time! Looking out of the small window high up the wall, the sky was just beginning to lighten. Stock shook his head, letting the hot water sluice the soap off his face. All he wanted was a nights sleep! Just one! Still, there was at least the bath, so maybe a good soak in there would do the trick, and, if there was a place in there that he could get his head down for an hour or two, so much the better.

In short order he was slipping into the deep, floral scentede water. In contrast to the shower, the bath was thoroughly warming and soothed his aches away. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, listening to the way the water lapped at sides of the huge bath and the way the delicate scent of wild flowers tickled his nose. Stock closed his eyes and felt his cares floating away, like the Wind Wraith on a gentle tide. It didn’t get better than this…

“Stock?”

The brown stallion groaned. One of the bloody crew had found him, and at this time of the morning too! Wasn’t there any blasted respite?

“What is it?” he rumbled.

“It is you, isn’t it! Good Goddesses, Starswirl said there was a sky galleon here and he’d spoken to a pony who sounded just like you!”

In a fountain of water, Stock got to his hooves and stared up at the white unicorn standing next to an equally familiar looking black earth stallion. It couldn’t be them, could it? He blinked and rubbed his eyes, still a little woozy from the bath water,

“Chalky? Bracken?” He wasn’t seeing things after all, “What in Equestria are you two doing here? Is the Revenge here?”

“No.” Chalk glanced at his friend, “It’s a long story, but if you’re up for an early breakfast, Iris has got tea and muffins.”

Stock pulled himself out of the bath and over to the towels. He’d been in far too long and must have nodded off - his mane and tail were a crinkled mess.

“Let’s go back to my room eh?” he said with a shake, “If I don’t get back soon, Cyclone will have my guts for garters.”

“Sure,” Chalk replied, “where are staying?”

“Um…the guest rooms?”

Bracken nodded, “I’ve an idea where they are. Chalky, do you want to let Iris know where we are?”

The white unicorn trotted off, leaving Bracken and Stock to walk back to the guest suite. On the way, Bracken gave the big stallion a quick overview of their situation. It wasn’t good - Cyclone would have to know about this and see what, if anything, they were going to do about it. As it turned out, she was less than impressed…

“You did WHAT?!”

Chalk cringed back defensively, “But he’s my friend! I couldn’t just leave him to go into the army alone and…”

“-And you left Gretel behind?” Cyclone’s eyes blazed, “Your friend runs off ‘to forget’ or some such crap, and you just throw the mare you love aside just like that do you?”

“It wasn’t like that!” Chalk protested, “She understands and…”

“What a load of bollocks.” Cyclone snapped, “She said that because she loves you, and if you gave the slightest flying buck about her you would have realised that too. Just how thoughtless and irresponsible can you be, Chalk Dust?” She advanced on him, her ears twitching angrily, “I know my friend and I know what she’ll be going through.” She jabbed the beleaguered unicorn in the chest with her hoof, “If you gave a damn about her, you’d be doing everything you could to get back to her and beg her to forgive your mind staggering stupidity!”

Chalk’s ears flopped and he hung his head in shame. He didn’t know what to say. Was she right? Had he simply…abandoned her? He thought back to the way she’d looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears while he ran off to follow his friend to…to what? Goddesses forgive him…what had he done? The pit of despair was right in front of him, its dark yawning maw pulling him in, and we went willingly, unresisting into its depths. He couldn’t hear any more - he didn’t want to, he didn’t need to. Cyclone had told him what he’d known all along and simply chose to ignore: he’d abandoned the one love he’d had in this world. He’d…left her…

Bracken was taking a verbal beating as well, and even Stock couldn’t stop it. Cyclone was in full flow, tearing into all of them with the fury of her namesake. Only the merciful arrival of breakfast and another grey pony distracted her enough for the beleaguered males to have some respite.

“Good morning! Have I missed anything exciting?” Starswirl swept in and snatched a muffin from the plate with his magic, “You must be Captain Cyclone. A real pleasure to meet you!” He shook th Captain’s hoof vigorously before nodding to the plate beside him, “Muffin? I’d recommend the blueberry jam, it’s simply divine!”

Cyclone stood in shocked silence and looked at the muffin just as a wave of nausea hit her. With a gasp, she charged from the room and into the bathroom. Behind her, the grey pony shrugged,

“I didn’t think it was that bad…” he muttered wolfing down the last of his muffin, “Better with tea though.”

Stock looked over at Chalk who was looking for all the world like he wanted to leap out of the window, while Bracken, who didn’t look much better, was trying to console him. He face hoofed. That bloody pegasus! He knew she’d be angry, but she’d ripped into them when they were already in a bad situation, and it didn’t look like it was going to get better anytime soon. From what he’d been able to determine, Bracken was being hunted by the Legion and the fortress was keeping him here for when they arrived; he sure as hell wanted to be away from here before that happened. As for Chalk, he was a package deal with Bracken, but Starswirl…now he was a different kettle of fish. Stock watched the peculiar fellow stuffing more of the butter and jam soaked treats into his mouth and scratched his chin in thought. The Princess wanted him, did she? And he had knowledge of some sort of explosive device that, if kept out of the hooves of the Legion, could help sway the conflict in favour of the Celestians. He grinned to himself. The scruffy looking grey unicorn was a potential gold mine.

“Starswirl?” he asked, “Would you mind stopping here with the boys? I’m going to have a chat with the Captain and see if we can get you that guided tour of the Wind Wraith this morning.”

The grey stallion clopped his hooves together excitedly, “Wonderful, Master Stock! Please do!”

Stock nodded and trotted out of the room to deal with the poorly Captain.

Meanwhile, Chalk had huddled himself up into a ball, hiding his face in shame. Bracken was talking to him, but he barely heard a word of it, so wrapped up as he was in his own world of personal misery. Bracken had seen him like this before: when he was frightened and alone, he would do this, but this time it was different, this was time it was…worse. Cyclone’s words had hit home harder than he’d expected. Deep down, his friend was probably wracked with guilt at leaving Gretel behind and, worst of all, he’d done it to stay with him, his friend. Bracken felt terrible, and the mint green mare had blamed him too for not having ‘had the balls’ to put his hoof down and stop Chalk following him. Goddess almighty, what a mess.

The door to the bathroom opened and Bracken closed his eyes expecting yet another tirade from the angry mare. He took a breath; if she started again, just one more bloody word and he’d tell her where to…

“Bracken?” The mare’s voice was softer than earlier, kinder, “Would you go with Starswirl and bring his things back here please? Quickly.”

“Er, sure.” Bracken looked surprised, but Starswirl’s ears had perked up and he was already out the door quick as a flash. All too happy to get away, Bracken hurried after Starswirl. This time, Chalk was on his own.

“Chalky?” Cyclone leaned down and stroked the white unicorn’s golden mane. He quivered beneath her touch as though she were going to strike him, looking for all world like Vela the first time she’d met him and, horribly, reminding her of her sister after those monsters had... She sighed, “Come on, we’re going home.” Chalk opened one eye and looked up at her in confusion. “You’ve completed your mission and done more than those swine could ever have asked of you.” Cyclone shook her head sorrowfully, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that. I’m…I’m sorry.” She looked across at Stock who nodded to her. She gave the white unicorn a gentle nuzzle, “We’ll get you back to Gretel, but we’ll need your help.”

Green eyes peered up at her, flicking to Stock and then back again. Chalk nodded, pulling himself to his hooves,

“Yeah…” his voice was quiet and distant, “Sure.”

It was still barely light outside when the party reached the Wind Wraith. Stock noticed the distinct absence of fortress guards, but then, there usually was. After all, who would attack a fortress half way up a mountain full of wendigo? For that matter, how? Beside him, Starswirl’s eyes reminded him of the first time Strata came aboard the Revenge. It had to be some sort of unicorn thing, but at least the crew had come to accept them on board, even if a few of the older hooves were still a little wary. With Starswirl though, it was hard to form any sort of opinion on him due to the constant verbal, physical and mental assault the grey creature subjected you to whenever you opened your mouth. For that matter, even standing near the excitable unicorn was enough to make your brain hurt. He just never stopped! Motioning towards the main deck hatch, Stock gave the mage his best smile,

“Come below, Starswirl. I’ll show you the hold and the steering gear.”

He didn’t take much persuasion. The wizard clopped his hooves together in excitement,

“Ooh! Yes!”

His excited charge already disappearing below decks, Stock nodded to Grille and Longus who quickly and quietly began moving the crew to their positions. Pepper was already stretching his forelegs and readying the ships navigational equipment while his sister, Salt was standing by on the bow line. Chalk and Cyclone reached the deck and waved to Bracken to hurry up,

“Brack! Come on, for Celestia’s sake, shift your arse!”

The black earth pony stopped and look up at them, an impassive look on his face. Slowly, he shook his head,

“I’m not going Chalky. Not this time.”

In a flurry Chalk ran back down the gangplank, “What the hell are you talking about? Not this again!” He reached out for his friend, “No way - I’m not leaving you behind!”

Bracken slapped Chalk’s hoof away, “Damn it Chalky, shut up will you. It’s not about you, it’s about me; I don’t want to go with you. I’ve got my reasons and that’s that, just…just go. Please.”

“Bollocks to that!” Chalk spat, “I’m not leaving my best friend behind and…”

Bracken grabbed him suddenly, his eyes narrowing, “Now you listen to me! You are my friend, you always have been and you always will be, but this is something I have to do…alone. Goddess willing, I’ll see you again, but you can’t be a part of this Chalky. Please, try and understand.”

“I can’t understand if I don’t know what it is!” Chalk was all but hopping from one hoof to another, “No! Look Brack, I…”

Bracken winced as his friend crumpled to the ground, two crewponies quickly lifting his unconscious body between them as Cyclone appeared, putting away the belaying pin,

“Bracken, are you sure you want to do this?” The green mare gave her mane a shake, “I don’t know what’s going on, and I know you’ve got your reasons, but I hope to the Goddesses you know what you’re doing.”

Bracken shrugged, “Probably not.” He gave Chalk a hug and kissed him on his forehead with a chuckle, “Farewell…brother.”

Cyclone’s heart leaped in her chest. This felt…bad, really bad. There was a bond between these two - one that she’d criticised and felt awful for doing, especially now. She squeezed her eyes shut a moment against the wave of emotion that surged through her and turned to follow the others back up the gangplank.

A voice behind her gave her pause,

“Cyclone?”

She looked back.

“Look after him. Please.”

The black stallion’s slate grey eyes were full of love for his friend. Even as he spoke to Cyclone, his gaze never left his friend until he disappeared onto the deck of the ship. The pegasus nodded,

“I will, Bracken. I promise you that.”

Bracken smiled, “Your ship’s waiting for you, Captain.”

Cyclone hurried back up the gangplank, pausing for only a heartbeat to glance back at the stallion watching them go. She had a feeling, a feeling that…She shook her mane. Melancholy thoughts were not for now: now was a time for action.

“Cast off the lines. Make sail and get us the hell out of here.” She clopped the oddly coloured helmspony on the shoulder, “Mister Pepper, its your time to shine.”

“Aye, aye Cap’n.”

On deck, the ship was a hive of activity and the Wind Wraith quickly began to pull away from the dock. Chalk felt the movement beneath him, coming to his senses and gradually getting a grasp of the situation. His head ached where they’d struck him, but…where was Bracken? BRACKEN! He made a lunge for the gangplank, but it was too late. Chalk stared over the side of the ship at his friend who was just stood there like a statue, stood…watching him leave.

He opened his mouth to call out but stopped. Somehow he knew, he knew this day would come - the day they would be parted. He closed his eyes and sighed; his friend would get this…whatever it was, off his chest and then he’d meet up with him again. Chalk shook his head and sniffed away a stray tear,

“Bloody earth ponies.”

He looked up and saw the Captain smiling down at him from the balustrade. Cyclone wasn’t so bad, but she was no Gretel. Giving himself a shake he headed for the steps up to the quarterdeck. High above them, the wind caught the mainsails and began to fill them out, the ship responding beneath them like a salmon slipping through a river. She was quick, quicker than the Revenge, and she felt different too…older. He ran his hoof over the railing and smiled, despite the hole he felt in his heart. He would see Bracken again…one day.

On the dock, the black stallion watched the ship disappearing into the distance, his heart aching. Was he doing the right thing? He shook his mane; maybe…maybe. A hoof brushed his shoulder,

“Are you sure you want this, Bracken?”

Bracken laughed, “That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it!” he turned to face Maroc and Arathea, “I guess I’ll be finding out soon enough.” Without another word, he headed back to the fortress’s interior. The two wendigo watched him go.

“Do you think he will be alright, dear?”

Maroc rubbed his cheek against Arathea’s neck, “I hope so, my love.” He sighed quietly, “We’d better go and get things ready.”