To Calm a Tempest

by Broman

In the Waking World

Tempest:

Tempest walked along the deck of Destiny's Bounty, followed by a few officers. Some rambled on about the need for doing a headcount, others wanted to find more supplies among the wreckage of the destroyed ships.

In spite of how loud and clear the officers spoke, Tempest didn’t listen. Regardless of how welcoming her peaceful three day sleep was, her mind kept wandering. Her eyes peeled to the makeshift encampment of her meager forces. Most were haphazardly built while a few maintained some discipline and decorum.

However, her troop’s morale was precariously low.

The majority of the soldiers were badly hurt and some required medical attention. Out of the dozen ships that were sent as the advanced party, only two managed to survive. The one that she was standing on, and the other that was moored just next to the river. The large zeppelin, aptly named the Bringer of Storms, was badly damaged. Several crew members continued to try and piece the ship back together, yet they didn’t have the manpower to get it up and they had already been pressed for time.

‘We’ve been stuck here for three days. That’s way too long for my liking,’ she thought, “We need to keep pressing forward. Otherwise, the Storm King will be collecting our heads.”

A sharp scream broke her concentration and her eyes dawdled over to the tent nearest to the ship. One of the warriors was shouting in pain while pirate surgeons were cleaning his wounds with rubbing alcohol. Another larger pirate held the warrior down while he writhed from the pain in his lower back.

Seeing this made her grateful that Captain Celaeno and her crew were helping them, because the medical supplies the Storm King’s army carried were either lost or destroyed from the storm. She also felt grateful that Celaeno took charge of everything after she unexpectedly dozed off the last time she saw Spencer.

The only thing she really wished for now…was that the soldiers weren’t in such a tumultuous state. Since the ultimate crash, dozens of soldiers were forced to lie down on the grass under the noonday sun, a few lying there overnight waiting for some medical care. Others that didn’t have life-threatening injuries were forced to either wait or go back to the hazardous work of restoring the ship. Some that did would reopen their wounds due to the hazardous work.

She cast her gaze out to the distance, where another wreck lay upon the next hill.

The skeleton of that ship jutted upward in the air, similar to the bones of a dead dragon the size of a mountain. Debris littered the ground, sheets of metal were scattered everywhere, and trees were flattened from the crash’s impact. She had crew members of her own going out to any ship they’d find. Some managed to find a few supplies that weren’t burned from the wreckage. Some were useful. Others, like Flint and Tinder’s weapons station, were less desirable. Search teams would also return hours later before finding anything of use, or even a surviving crew member. When she woke up from her slumber, she heard a report that some scouts went further afield and traveled many miles from the last ship’s location. Such courage was something she often admired, but the disheartening part was that they never returned.

She grumbled, wondering if they had been eaten by wild beasts.

She leaned onto the side of the deck, her gaze shifting to the sounds of the hammers and saws the soldiers were using. She peered down, seeing the pirates putting the last touches of repairs on the ship’s hull. They fretted over which part needed the most repairs or if certain lumber needed to be inserted. A few were rather cautious of the keel, uncertain as to what kind of damage was underneath the ship. While she watched a few arguments here and there one of the crew members was finishing up with hammering a section that recently had a bad impact from the explosion. Including a nasty indent made when her Sergeant was carrying Spencer.

Her mind relived the images of that fateful event. The shouting and the screaming of the prisoners, the rampant orders being given out, others huddling for safety from the inferno around them. She remained in the midst of it all, her mind like clockwork, attempting to assess the situation and relay instructions to her crew members. Then a sharp cry filled her ears followed by the sound of thunder in the skies. It was only for that brief moment, but she heard him. She scanned the deck of the ship, looking for any signs of him, hoping to catch a glimpse of anypony that didn’t have long ears or a tail. It was then that she heard Celaeno calling out “Man Overboard!”, and noticed her looking over the side.

“And that gives my report, Lieutenant. What do you say?” she heard one of her subordinates finish, not even caring that he continued to ramble on since she had been dulled to hearing. She gave an affirmative nod, lest he thought that he was wasting his time with one who didn’t care to listen.

And at the moment, she didn’t care to hear anything from them.

Although, she did pause and look towards a young warrior amongst the group, a new sergeant under her ranks. His eyes were glazed and appeared distracted. She caught his glance toward the tents and the mess of soldiers being treated. Granting herself a better posture, she stood tall and cleared her throat.

“Sergeant,” she said in an authoritative tone.

The haze over his eyes left him and he quickly stood at attention.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” he replied rather meekly.

He was troubled for certain, given how quickly he jumped to hide the mask of his troubles. Yet, she knew if she didn’t get some measure of order amongst her officers, they would no doubt buckle under the pressure.

“You seem troubled. Care to make your problems known?” she said, taking a step toward him while the other officers backed away from her.

His head lowered and appeared saddened, though he dare not look her in the eye, “The last sergeant was my brother. I couldn’t save him.”

Tempest paused, her demeanor remained as it was but that still didn’t change the fact that she pitied him. Inwardly, she tried to help a family in the early months of the Storm King's campaign. She had to kill a subordinate, but it was the only way she could make it look like it was the father’s doing. Their faces were still vivid in her mind and she regretted not doing more to save them.

Even now, their faces still haunted her dreams.

“I’m sorry for your loss. His duty to safeguard the ship, and secure the lives of those under him, was his greatest priority. I believe I witnessed him waiting near the stairs to ensure he saw everyone coming out.” She explained, hoping that some words of bravery and heroism would be enough to instill some measure of peace with the warrior.

“He died more than because of his duties,” he said, bitterness in his voice, “He died…because of that human.”

She showed no reaction. She could tell that he was unhappy, that’s for sure. She had seen that type of face before, which showed one who was seeking vengeance or recompense against those who wronged him. Spencer did no wrong, and she knew it, for he was held the entire time and under the care of the sergeant. His brother, on the other hand, didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation his sibling was in.

“If you have something to say, then spit it out,” she said, giving him her full attention.

The others watched the younger warrior patiently while he sneered in rage.

“It should have been him that died when the ship was capsizing! Not my brother!” He shouted, directing his attention at her.

She kept her composure, allowing herself to take in the dissidence from her subordinate.

“My brother was everything to me,” he started, anger and pain coming out in waves, “My brother and I had no other family back home. He was the one who always looked after me and took care of me. We followed the Storm King because we believed he would get us to a better standing in life. We followed his orders to every letter and never once disobeyed. Yet now, in this wilderness, he was taken from me. We’ve dealt with much worse things in life, but this…is the last straw for me!” he shouted, his fists clenching and veins pulsing in his neck.

“Steady soldier,” Tempest said, attempting to restore some discipline while allowing him to continue.

“Steady!? We have never been steady since that storm! We have no communication to the Storm King, and I doubt he has sent any search parties or messengers to find us! We lost too many warriors, and yet he’s sitting back and lounging about in his tent, ogling over that blasted staff of his! He knows nothing of our pain out here!”

“Sergeant,” she said more sternly, an eye twitching a bit.

“He knows nothing of our despair! The daily frustrations of our brothers! The agony and horror of those we lost to brutality! He doesn’t care about us! He’d sooner leave us out here to rot and he wouldn’t care less! He left us out here to die!”

Before the sergeant knew it, Tempest had taken a step in front of him and elbowed him in the gut, just below the ribcage. The warrior doubled over, coughing and clutching his chest. She swiped a hand straight at his face and forced him onto his back. He crashed onto the wooden surface and was still clutching his chest. She moved in and placed a foot over his hand, keeping it there and forcing his gaze onto her.

“You’re letting your emotions get the better of you. If you wish to dig the latrine pits for the remainder of our time in this forest, then I suggest you simply shut up and quit complaining. You’ve said your piece, so now you must-”

“But, surely you can see the folly in this,” he managed to speak out, “The Storm King will not help us, and our only reward is death if we fall back and turn up empty-handed. Either we fight or die, Lieutenant. I don’t care what the Storm King sees in that human. He should have been impaled the moment he stepped foot into our camp.”

Tempest jabbed a fist into his chest, making him groan with his mouth out. She then placed her right hand directly into his lower jaw and pulled him towards her, making wrath in agony. She felt the soft tissue of his mouth, her fingers digging deep into his jaw and not letting go.

“Not another word, Sergeant. Or, maybe you can be target practice for Flint and Tinder’s firing range. You will not speak another word about Spencer. Do I make myself clear?” She said, her tone deadly serious and her grip tightening even further.

The Sergeant nodded frantically, the only words he could get out being half words and slurred reflexes in his throat. She let go of his mouth and caused him to roll over. And no sooner had that happened did he grab his lower jaw and scurried away from her.

She turned her attention to the rest of her officers.

“This is a reminder to all of you! The Storm King will severely punish those who lack in his good graces. He will undoubtedly send in those who’d toss us just to complete this task. I want you all to complete your missions, which is to gather the remaining survivors and whatever supplies you can find. See to it that it gets done.” she said, walking away from them and heading into the lower decks of the ship.

The officers remained where they were, some mumbling beneath their breath. She even heard one mentioning the human’s name. She didn’t care what they had to say, yet she noted that all of them were calling the human ‘Spencer’.

As much as she admired their courtesy, all it did was remind her that she was the first to call Spencer by his name instead of marking him with a number like the rest of the prisoners. Ever since then, Spencer had become a frequent topic amongst the camp. It was almost like he had become a famous celebrity.

She felt uneasy as she went into the lower decks and headed toward her room, which conveniently was near the stairs she was descending. She entered the room and closed the door behind her. Once locked, she took in her surroundings. A gigantic circular bed, Captain Celaeno gave with no questions asked and she couldn’t offer a response, was sitting in the back with white drapes covering down the sides. A chest with a few of her belongings was in front of the fancy bed. A table with a single chair sat in the center, reports resting on top of the fine wood. A spot of ink and quill rested next to the parchment. A single square window was letting light into the room and basked the bed in warmth.

She knew Captain Celaeno well, yet she always overindulged her whenever she paid a visit, or even had temporary quarters.

‘How is the captain able to fit such a large bed in her own ship?’ She wondered, ‘Let alone in a room like this?’

She sat at the table, overlooking the latest reports from the recent scouts. There was one report that particularly interested her, which was on a ship called the ‘Little Windigo’.

Tempest,

While you were asleep, a group of soldiers and I discovered the ‘Little Windigo’ 20 miles south of our location.

Sadly, the entirety of it is now merely a wreck. We never found any survivors. All we could find were a bunch of carcasses, each being either of a soldier or a prisoner. The best we could do for them was gather their bodies and burn them in a fire later that night.

On the bright side, though, we discovered precious supplies from the wreckage. I checked for myself to see if they were still in good condition, and they thankfully are. We’re temporarily keeping them in the storage facility of Destiny’s Bounty until more ships are repaired.

I hope you had a good sleep.

Signed,
Celaeno

P.S. Tell the two weapon handlers that the next time they look at me funny, I’ll give them a kick to the gut and make them taste their own gizzards.

She smiled after reading this, glad to know that at least some progress has been made. She also couldn’t help but chuckle at the last part she read, because she had been wondering if Celaeno was aware of Flint and Tinder giving her looks of awe every time she was around. And how she felt about that, of course.

Minutes passed swiftly as she scanned through the reports, and each one was more tiresome than the last. She didn’t want to be distracted from what transpired earlier on the deck. The only thing she could do was bury herself in her work. On occasion, she would get a report or two from a messenger outside. Once she’d receive the new report and commend the messenger, she’d get right to studying it. This became periodic throughout the day, and she never stirred from her work unless it was to stretch or ponder on the next move for finding the Storm King.

The sun continued to lower in the sky. Time seemed to fly by, yet she didn’t even notice.

Her mane would droop a little, yet she trudged on, trying to complete everything. She rubbed a hand through her face, attempting to keep it up. She would bump into her horn, the broken edges of it being the very reminder of what led her to become the second-in-command of the Storm King’s army.

She remembered her superior’s simple yet honeyed words, as well as his promise to restore her horn if she accepted his offer to join. The offer was tempting. Too tempting to decline. And she had nowhere else to go anyway. She stayed and remained loyal to the Storm King, not stopping until she got what she wanted:

The restoration of her horn by the king’s Staff of Sarcanas.

‘It’s hard to believe, really,’ she thought to herself, ‘The Storm King and I spent two moons tracking the staff down, until we finally found it at a flea market.’

She gave a silent chortle and a slight smile, ‘And to think, a group of thieves found it in some lost tomb, and all they decided to do afterwards was sell it to the highest bidder,’ Her smile disappeared, ‘Too bad their only reward was a slice & dice by the Storm King and some of his guards.’

A shiver went up her spine as she remembered watching many of the defiant thieves be cut down to size by the Storm King and his men. She could still recall the pleas of mercy from some of the last thieves standing before they got sliced to bits.

After they recovered the staff, Tempest informed the Storm King that it only worked if pony magic was extracted into the crystal. And there was one kind of magic she recommended that he get:

The power of the Alicorns.

The Alicorn magic was more than enough to help create the perfect storms, control the elements like a god, and restore anything it touched. At least, that was what the legends of the staff said. She could pretty much guess that the only one who knew what the Staff of Sacanas was capable of was Celestia herself, especially since she learned of the alicorn witnessing the raw power of the Staff of Sarcanas. She questioned it many times in her mind.

Of course, that was something Tempest wanted to find out herself. By snowballing the Storm King’s forces straight towards the capital, laying waste to every village and town they came across in the process, she would see to it that they make it to the very gates of Canterlot. There was no doubt this was a high price to pay, but she was willing to pay it if it meant her horn could be restored.

‘With my horn restored, I’d finally be a normal unicorn again,’ she thought to herself while writing, ‘I could control my magic at will as much as I wanted, even learn new skills that I’ve always wanted to do but wasn’t able to before. I may even finally be able to save…’

She paused from her writing when she recalled that night again. ‘I could’ve saved Spencer faster if my horn wasn’t broken.’

Setting the quill and paper down, she overlapped her fingers and rested her elbows on the table. She leaned her chin and rested it on top of her knuckles, her mind recalling the events that unfolded.

Captain Celaeno heard Spencer’s cry for help as he dangled perilously on the edge of the ropes. She could have gotten one of the unicorns from the village, but they were too timid and scared, and their narrow escapes from the fires caused them to be paralyzed with shock and trauma. Time was running against her. She attempted to use the magic that laid dormant within her and she attempted to bring him and the rope up.

At first, she thought she could do it, that her horn was enough for this. Yet, the strain was too much even after a few seconds. Without a single point to focus on, she struggled to get him up. Then, the rope snapped. And he fell. Faster than it took her magic to adjust. He fell into the burning waters below, to which she boldly attempted to jump in after him. She was held back by none other than Captain Celaeno herself, along with Flint and Tinder. She argued with her, wanting to go in after him alone despite the captain's insistence that she bring a companion or two with her. She eventually relented on the matter, agreeing that Flint and Tinder go with her to help.

Once they had splashed in the water, she saw him pinned down by a wooden beam. With Flint and Tinder helping, she pulled Spencer out of the dangerous trap he was in. After rescuing him and pulling him back onto the ship, she immediately went to his side. She was stunned to see the head wound he had, the scratches and bruises along his body, and the shirt he wore for a long time was now a torn wreck. He was also running a fever, which caused panic to swell inside her. Not long after, the ship crashed haphazardly onto the ground and water due to the newfound heavy weight. They rolled out together, and she held him even as they rolled through the dirt. When they came to a stop against a large rock, she had him in her arms.

She felt her heart flutter for a moment.

She closed her eyes and lowered her head past her arms, her mind brooding.

“I don’t have any feelings for him. It’s not possible.” She reminded herself of why he was here, “The Storm King wanted to use Spencer as a possible leverage against Equestria. If I had left him to die, my only reward would be a piercing through the heart.”

She remembered holding him close as the rain fell on them, “I was only holding him so that he’d be safe. His condition would’ve worsened if I hadn’t been there.”

She recalled how she sang that lullaby to him.

“Why did I sing that? I haven't heard that song since...” she trailed off, her mind frantically piecing the thoughts together.

Not too long ago, she and Spencer were at each other’s throats, and the fight ended with her asking him to leave. Yet, now she can only wonder how he was doing and how he was coping. He had not awakened in the last few days and worry began to gnaw into her. Before she fell asleep, she had asked the parrots to keep an eye on him if he would wake up but still, the anxiety remained.

“Why do I keep getting so worried about him? He’s just sleeping. I shouldn’t fret over any of this, right?” she asked herself, trying to calm down.

Yet, her body betrayed her mind. Her right leg bounced up and down in a slow rythem, tapping the wood with the front of her foot. She clenched her hands together and tightened her grip. Her tail would also flick from side to side in annoyance. Her breathing would remain steady but she felt her heart hammering faster in the response of her thoughts.

In an effort to calm herself, she took a very deep breath. When she exhaled, her leg stopped bouncing, her tail quit flicking, and her hands relaxed.

‘See. All I needed to do was just breathe.’ she thought to herself.

However, her mind suddenly wandered back to when Spencer was against her body after the crash. She really didn’t know why, but…in that very moment, something about him being pressed against her felt so lifegiving. Even after the two of them were soaked and wet from being in the river, he radiated a warmth that she did not want to put out. And the more she kept hugging and holding him close to her, the more she didn’t want to let him go.

Realizing that she was getting distracted, she rapidly shook her head in order to clear herself of the memory. But, when she tried to think of something else, an image of the dream she had a few nights prior appeared.

Her body froze, thinking of that single night.

One single night was when she felt so alone. Her eyes were closed, yet she saw everything in perfect detail. She was standing on snow-covered ground, walking towards an open light. A single equine, male, stood near the outer edge. She recalled the words that she spoke, of how she longed for being able to be with the one she loved yet her tribe had forbidden it. Then the male equine strode forth and called to her, not to be marred by tears, but to be uplifted so that the two could go through this danger together. She took the risk and approached him. The music began and her body moved on her own.

She became lost in the dance of beauty and grace. She felt between her and the mysterious stallion like that of two birds, locked in a dance that entwined and shaped one another, matching in perfect harmony. She didn’t resist when he touched her on the shoulder before giving a twirl of the hand, the hair’s breadth between their skin being surprisingly intoxicating. She didn’t fear anything. Afterall, dreams were not meant to be real. Yet, in that moment, feeling so safe and secure, she wished it with all her might that it was real.

During a pirouette, she turned into him while he turned as well. With his arms he grasped between her armpits and lifted her up into the air, allowing her body to be freely moved above him. A soft sigh escaped her, not just due to feeling the weightlessness of being held, but because she felt safe and secure. She wished to be whisked away like this, to be taken far away from all the troubles and woes that befell her all these years. She was lowered down and the music slowed, feeling the warm embrace of the stallion. She hummed in satisfaction from the dance and lowered her head onto his chest, regardless of him being a head shorter than him. He in turn lowered his head and pressed his cheek onto her horn.

Truly, even if she wanted to giggle because he was the smallest of the two instead of her, she never wanted that moment to end.

That is, when he retreated, and she looked in his eyes.

The veil on her fell and he became flustered. Scared even. She raised her hand towards his face, her heart beating and her own fears crawling to the forefront of her mind. She didn’t want this to be true, but she needed to know for sure. She placed a hand on his nose, grabbing a hold of a similar veil that was on him as well. Just this once, she hoped and prayed that it wasn't who she thought it was. When she pulled the veil off, her heart sank in despair.

Spencer, standing before her, equally as terrified as she was.

A hundred things ran through her mind, uncertain of what to make of the situation. Once again, he was there, in her dreams. It was always the place she believed he wouldn’t be present, yet there he was. The only thing she felt like doing was running away as quickly as possible.

Why did his presence irk her so? Why was he there? And what was the reason behind it?

But these questions had to be put aside for later, because she felt an eerie presence holding her down and keeping her in place with him. Then, the snap of a rope caught her ear and she looked up. A beam was burning high above them and it was crashing down upon. Acting on instinct, she tackled him to the ground, slamming on top of him as she did. The beam crashed into the floor and the wood beneath them splintered before they fell into the waiting darkness.

Only for a moment later for the two of them to land on each other, with Spencer on the bottom and her on top. She even felt her head smack into his, causing them both to seeth from the blow. She then recalled rolling over, attempting to figure out what was happening and why everything was going against her. Then she felt pinned and the voice of the mare she had recognized instinctively.

“And now. At last. You both belong to me. Forever.”

Tempest opened her eyes and bolted from her seat, kicking the chair back. She grabbed the edge of the table, and without even exerting herself, tossed the furniture to the side. Papers scattered everywhere and the remaining ink that lingered splattered onto the ground. Any unfortunate report that got in its path.

She drew her sword and aimed it forward. She stared at an enemy, whether real or imaginary, and waited. She didn’t care how long she’d wait, but she wanted to be ready. She stayed still, her breathing steady. She gripped her sword tight, a trained arm holding the hilt with grace and precision. Yet, as she tried to focus she could only hear her heart beating against her chest. It filled her ears like war drums and it wouldn’t settle down. She felt a small tremor in her hands, making the tip of the sword wobble slightly.

“She can’t be here,” she reassured herself in her thoughts, “The demon isn’t real. She’s only a figment of my imagination.”

She waited for a few seconds. And those seconds turned into minutes. Finally, she lowered her guard and moved to the front of the bed.

She sighed depressingly, twisting her body so that she faced the bed, and lowered herself in front of the foot of it. She sat cross legged and made herself as small as possible. She placed her sword on the wooden floor, taking a shaky breath and trying to calm herself. She then wiped a bead of sweat on her brow.

“What’s wrong with me?” she said softly to herself.

She had not gotten proper sleep in days, and that’s even despite her recently peaceful sleep. Just when she would have a good night’s rest, her dreams wouldn’t cease from everything that took place. That demon kept haunting her dreams, nightmares coming and going as they pleased, and now Spencer appeared no matter how much she tried to not think of him. She lifted her legs till her knees were up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, pulling them close. She leaned her head down and rested there, just wishing for things to go her way.

“Down in the dumpth again, huh Tempeth?” a familiar, wisecracking voice sounded next to her. It wasn’t from a crew member or a soldier she knew. It was one whose name matched his appetite. She lifted her head and stared blankly at the only person she called a friend, “Want me to fetch you some munchies? I’m thure that could help you feel better.”

“If only your appetite matched your wit, Grubber,” she replied.

Her hedgehog friend came away from the flipped table, holding a small plate with a pie on it. He wore the same uniform as the Storm King’s soldiers like he always did, yet he could never show the demeanor or the gumption of a storm guard. Yet, the little tike managed to worm his way past her barriers and was the only one she trusted to share her thoughts. Grubber smacked his lips on a bite of that gooseberry pie and was already having another helping.

“My appetite? Tempeth, a guy like me needth all the food he can get. All the marching and order taking drainth a lot out of me.” he said, taking a heafy bite into the pie. “Besides, you need all the food you can get, especially thince you’re thith army’th head honcho.”

She chuckled at this comment. He was the only one who could make her laugh even when she was having the hardest time.

“I’ll eat when I’m ready. Besides, I’d rather be skinny than eat so much I’d be short like you,” she retorted, earning an eye roll from Grubber in response.

He was always the one who made her feel at ease.

“Your joke there needs a bit of work. Otherwithe, you can never be able to land a joketh as thick as mine, like my pie.” he said, refocusing his attention back on the pie to take another bite.

“Well, food will always be your forte, Grubber. Yet, your company will never be dull,” she said.

He smiled, glad to know that his little quirks here and there always made her day.

“That’s what friends are for, Tempeth.” he replied, raising his cleaner hand up and pressing it on her shoulder.

“Tempest?” Celaeno said, a hand placed on Tempest's shoulder.

Tempest rose her head and gasped slightly.

Was she lulled into slumber?

She would need to do better.

As she looked around the room more, she saw that Grubber was nowhere to be found. Life in the room seemed to be empty without him, and it only made the fact that he left the army to warn the princesses of the Storm King’s invasion all-the-more painful to her.

“Yes,” she replied, rather groggily as she looked at the captain.

The captain’s normal attire was replaced with a simple white corset that exposed her arms. She also wore her usual brown loose pants. Her crystal pegleg remained the same, but she wore a black boot on her foot. The feathers on her head were also wrapped back with a black bandanna. She looked as tired as Tempest was, but she was still more up and about.

“Are you doing alright? I heard about your fiasco with one of the soldiers a little while ago.” she pointed at the overturned table and chair, along with the scattered paperwork spread on the floor.

“It’s none of your concern,” Tempest stated, keeping her head low and looking to the side, trying to avoid her gaze, “He just needed to remember his place.”

Celaeno’s hand on her shoulder never left her.

“You can’t lie to me, Tempest. We’ve known each other far too long to simply ignore what’s going on,” Celaeno stated, bending her knee down while laying her pegleg flat against the surface so that they were both at the same eye level. “My crew’s getting antsy about what you’ve been doing as of late, and I can’t make up any further stories to protect you. Can’t have fake arguments over the treasure that doesn’t exist, no?”

Tempest remained where she was, although she perked her ears at an all-time high and listened to what the captain had to say.

She had a responsibility to so many, and yet right now, she felt like she was the only one capable of handling it all. Yet, these nightmares have been plaguing her and affected her ability to be functional. To be more aware of her surroundings. They all have been surfacing more frequently ever since Spencer…since he came into play.

She lifted her head, a small determination in her eyes. She wanted to ask Spencer about the dreams that have been haunting her, but now…she planned to demand the answers from him. She’ll get the answers whether he knew them or not, and she will solve the little mystery that’s going on between them. She turned her gaze back to Captain Celaeno and a small smirk was present on her countenance.

“I think I’ll be alright, Celaeno. I appreciate your concern,” she said. Regardless of how tired she was, she was grateful for the captain’s consideration, “I may still be a little tired, but at least being asleep for three days has helped me have a clearer head. I should be more active starting tomorrow.”

The captain gave a small smile of her own, giving her a pat on the back before lifting herself off the floor.

“That’s good to hear. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can find a replacement table,” she gestured to the broken table that was against the wall, “Unless you think you could put it back together, of course.”

Tempest rubbed her fingers through her mane with a sigh, “I’ll take care of it myself. Besides, you have other problems to worry about.”

Celaeno placed a hand on her hip. “If there’s a problem with my ship, I can handle it. My crew can be managed when each of them are given a cup of ale. Handling you on the other hand is a whole mess of trouble that I don’t want to dive too deep into, no matter how much crap can be made into gold.”

“And how am I a problem?” Tempest asked with a suspicious raise of an eyebrow.

“Well, you are pretty headstrong. And temperamental, considering you’re very quick to anger,” Celaeno said with a smirk, “But, I can still provide moral support for when a girl needs to talk. That’s part of what being a friend is, right?”

“A friend.” She thought, wondering how such a small word can make such an impact on one’s life.

“Anyway, you looked like you were daydreaming there,” Captain Celaeno said, making Tempest look up at her with a questioning gaze, “I take it a certain someone has become the center of your interest?”

She looked at Celaeno with a puzzled look, before standing up from her sitting position. Celaeno followed suit and also stood up.

“What makes you believe I’m thinking of someone instead of just something?” She asked Celaeno.

“It was just a hunch,” Celaeno said with a shrug, “And if my hunch is right, that someone is the human who’s been hibernating in the ship’s guest room these past few days.”

Tempest took a deep breath. She knew the pirate captain was right but she wanted to ensure that she gave a calm response.

“I’m just a little concerned for Spencer, that’s all,” She assured, before giving a glum expression, “The last time I saw him, I told him that I wanted to have a very big and serious talk with him. With how long he’s been sleeping, though, I’m not sure if he’s ever going to wake up.”

“I can see that. He has been asleep for three whole days so far, which I definitely think isn’t normal,” Celaeno said, understanding where Tempest was coming from, “Then again, that’s how long you previously slept too, isn’t it? And you seem to be right as rain.”

“No need to remind me,” Tempest commented with an eye roll, “I still find it hard to believe that drowsiness finally took a toll on me, and I couldn’t keep myself from slumping downwards because of it.”

“Good thing you wobbled onto one of the ship’s walls, though, I’ll tell you that,” Celaeno pointed out, “If you fell straight onto the floor, you likely would’ve ended up with a serious injury.”

Tempest gave another cynical eye roll, “Yay. Like a bunch of splinters puncturing my face.”

“I was thinking more on the lines of a concussion or broken jaw, but that’s possible too.” Celaeno gave a shrug at the last part.

“What’s the point of your little reminder, exactly?” Tempest asked.

“Simple. If you’re awake, then I have no doubt Spencer will be waking up at some point today,” Celaeno commented, “After all, was it really a coincidence that you’d suddenly fall asleep at the same time as him?”

Tempest gave a look that was surprised yet understanding, “Well, no, I suppose not. Although I will admit that it was strange that I’d fall asleep right at the time Spencer must’ve been falling asleep.”

“Glad we’re on the same page with that one,” Celaeno commented, “In whatever case, I have a feeling he’ll be at the door very soon.”

“I hope you’re right,” Tempest looked to the side, unsure whether to take Celaeno’s word or not, “I have so many words to get off my chest, and they’re all for him. If I have to wait any longer, I’ll go crazy!”

“Why do you want to talk to him so badly anyway? Is he someone you care for a lot?” she asked, before a sharp gasp escaped her followed by a smirk, “A lover perhaps?” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

Tempest flustered, although she managed to keep her cool.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tempest calmly said, “Spencer is merely a reluctant acquaintance of mine.”

“A reluctant acquaintance, eh?” Celaeno said with a smirk, “Tempest, you and I are reluctant acquaintances. You and Spencer, on the other hand, seem to interact on a different level. I mean, you care more about his safety and well-being than any other prisoner or crew member around here.”

“And why shouldn’t that be a top priority of mine?” Tempest countered, “The Storm King wants me to keep Spencer alive no matter what, otherwise I’d lose more than just my horn.”

“Except the Storm King isn’t here, remember?” Celaeno reminded, her smirk keeping up even as she was crossing her arms, “You jumped into that river even if you weren’t ordered to, and all because you wanted to save him.”

Tempest pulled her mane in frustration, “Regardless of the Storm King not being present, he made it perfectly clear to me that he wanted Spencer in one piece. If the Storm King did come back to us, or if we managed to catch up to him, he’d have my head if he found out his new bargaining chip was dead.”

“Really?” Celaeno said, looking unimpressed, “Because from what I heard, the Storm King no longer cares about having prisoners or bargaining chips. Weren’t you aware that, after the Manticore incident and before that storm came, he was beginning to kill prisoners one by one.”

“Yes?”

“Then how do you know Spencer wouldn’t be next on the list?”

Tempest grabbed the top of Celaeno’s shirt, bringing her head down so that the two could be at eye level and holding the shirt tightly. Celaeno in turn looked at Tempest with a bit of a shocked and fearful expression.

“As long as the deal between the Storm King and I remains intact, Spencer will not be harmed,” she told the pirate, her voice sounding dangerously low, “I was ordered to care for him and prevent him from lying in his grave early, and as fate would have it, that pretty much makes Spencer a new development in our agreement.”

Tempest pulled Celaeno down a little closer, “As long as I continue serving the Storm King, as well as ensure Spencer wouldn’t lose so much as an arm, we’re good,” she pulled Celaeno down to where her beak was at the level of her muzzle, “And as long as the Storm King maintains his promise to restore my horn in the end, and keeps himself from killing Spencer in the meantime, then we have an understanding,” she pulled the pirate down until her beak was slightly below her muzzle, “Basically, Spencer is the glue holding our bargain together.”

Regardless of how low Tempest pulled her down, Celaeno couldn’t help but look at Tempest with amazement.

“Wow,” Celaeno said, her voice reflecting her amazement and a quizzical look also forming, “Who knew your boyfriend would be this important to ya?”

And no sooner had she said this, Tempest responded by clenching Celaeno’s shirt collar with her other hand and gripping it tightly.

“He is not my boyfriend!” Tempest shouted, clenching the top of Celaeno’s shirt tighter.

But Celaeno only smirked, “Oh really. Then I guess he won’t mind seeing you with a mane that’s completely drooped over.”

“What?” Tempest looked at the pirate with a quizzical expression.

As she finally took note of her mane completely drooping over her shoulder, she let go of Celaeno’s shirt but failed to notice the captain falling on the floor with a plop. She looked around for a mirror and noticed one hanging beside the bed. She quickly ran to the mirror, and when she got in front of it and took a very good look at how her mane was…she gained a look of shock.

All this time worrying about Spencer, ensuring everyone’s recovery, and trying to get through her paperwork, and she never noticed that her mane didn’t represent her usual style. It was completely dropped over the side of her face, and it practically touched her shoulder! She wondered why no one but Celaeno pointed it out to her, but that was the least of her concerns.

‘I can’t let Spencer see me like this!’ She thought to herself.

Quickly wanting to fix her mane, she shook her head side to side, going fast enough to get one’s brain rattling and doing this repeatedly for a bit. When she stopped mid shake, she saw that the bottom half of her hair was standing back up, but the top half was still drooping downward in the shape of a crescent moon. So, she licked the palms of her hands and used them to straighten it up, before tossing her hair back until her mane had its usual mohawk style.

With her hairstyling complete, she looked in the mirror once more to see the results. To her happiness, and slight surprise, she found that her mane was back to looking like it always did. Not a single strand of hair was out of place, and the top didn’t look like it was threatening to droop over.

‘Much better’ She thought with a smile, feeling a hundred percent satisfied with how she looked.

“Ahem,” Celaeno said from behind her.

Ears perked high, Tempest turned to find Celaeno, standing up with her arms crossed over her chest again. And her smirk being bigger.

“You were saying?” Celaeno asked, her smirk keeping up.

Rather than give the pirate a straight answer, all Tempest could do was snort with aggravation, the sound coming out of her nostrils being exactly like that of a bull. She felt absolutely humiliated, because her quick mane-do basically gave the impression that she wanted to look good for Spencer.

---

Spencer:

After what felt like a 24-hour dead man shift, I was finally able to wake up.

My vision was blurry and my legs felt like they were burning. I grunted and shook my head, attempting to clear my vision. I was still laying in the same bed as before, seeing the roof over my head. Instinctively, I raised my hand to my eyes and rubbed them, still feeling groggy. I felt a small bandage around my head as well, another wound added to the list. The memory of the crazy fire and the entire advanced fleet of ships crashing to the ground came back like a freight train.

I’m lucky enough to be alive. Let alone still breathing.

“Finally awake, eh?” a rough voice came to my left.

I looked over to see a parrot pirate standing there with his arms crossed. He had a brown vest with shoulder pads, along with a sash that was wrapped around his waist. His body consisted of green feathers. The feathers on top of his head, though, were bright red. They were also held up by a bandana, which made it look like a mohawk. He had an eyepatch over his right eye and looked rather bored, like he was here for the past few hours doing nothing.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, my throat feeling parched.

“Three days, as far as I heard. You woke up a little the day before yesterday, although that turned out to be a fluke. Other than that, you're up and about now.” The pirate explained, dropping his arms and giving a small stretch.

I sat up from the bed with all the strength I had, my back feeling like a wooden plank until I put my hands against it and popped it.

The pirate moved over to my side before grasping at my shoulder.

“Be careful now. You suffered quite a bit while you were asleep.” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked with a questioning look, worried all of a sudden.

“Well, you did take a beating from the fall. Your body should heal in time. Yet your feet...how should I put this…” he trailed off like he was trying to find the right word to say.

My body instantly rose on its own. I looked at my feet expecting the worst, only to find them covered in green and red feathers.

“The shoes they have on could use some fixin’ up,” he said in a dry tone.

I was exasperated and sat back on the bed.

“I thought you were going to say I lost my feet,” I said, clearly annoyed but relieved that I didn’t lose a leg or foot.

The pirate chuckled before wrapping an arm around one of mine and pulling me up.

“Now where would the fun in that be?” he said, steadying me while I got my bearings.

My feet felt sore from all the running in the dream world. I guess the spell they were crafting on me really was working. The pirate hefted my left arm over his shoulder and I stumbled awkwardly. As I was standing, I felt like a dummy that a boxer would often use for training. The punching bag kind, not a human.

“Not very light on your feet, eh?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I was asleep for three days. What did you expect?” I told him, before looking down at my feather-covered feet again, “What are the feathers for anyway?”

“Ah, just a little callin’ card from our barber-surgeons, Ruby and Sweetpea.” He replied, “We don’t carry any sweets nor sugar candies for them to give patients, so they simply pick up whatever molted feathers they find and tie them against people’s feet.”

And I suddenly felt incredibly weirded out, “Oh.”

Seeing that the feathers weren’t for any necessary purpose, I simply lifted my right foot in the air and shook them off. Rather quickly too, because they were starting to itch. Once the feathers were off, I simply eased my foot down on the ground. Right when it touched the wood, though, I found myself jerked to the right like I was about to fall, to which the pirate had to use his own strength just to keep me up.

“Hey, Boyle! Get in here and help me with pink-skin!”

“Pink-Skin?” I wondered in my head, “They couldn’t come up with a better insult than that?”

The door swung open with a burly parrot pirate walking in. He was large in stature with broad shoulders and a strong upper body. He wore a red bandana across his head and had a false hand on his right arm. He wore a thick belt wrapped around his waist and seemed to carry himself as he moved over to my free side.

“Don’t you fret Mullet, I got him.” the big bird called Boyle said, grabbing my other arm and wrapping it over his shoulder.

I grunted in pain. The muscles in my arms felt like they were pulled and stretched by a rack.

Maybe that spell of theirs was working too well.

"Still feeling out of it, huh? Maybe Captain Celaeno can get Ruby and Sweetpea to do another check-up."

“No worries,” I assured as we moved out of the room, “I’m sure that I’ll be back to normal later.”

"You certain? Those two can give you the works if you catch my drift." Mullet suggested.

"Bah! That is a cocksure way of getting yourself losing an eye. Right Mullet?" Boyle gestured and Mullet scoffed while the later laughed.

Pirates and their twisted humor.

When we moved through the door, though, I became surprised by what I saw. Instead of being outside, the pirates took me into a wooden hallway. No doubt it was also one of the pirate ship’s halls, because as we moved, I could hear the ship swaying. I could definitely tell that it was still on the river, that’s for sure.

“Somethin’ on your mind, lad?” I heard Mullet say, to which I directed my head to look at him and found he had a curious expression on his face, “You look as though you’ve never seen the inside of a ship before.”

“Oh! No, no, it’s not that. It’s just…” I paused to take a deep breath, because I sounded as though I was speaking too fast, “The last time I was awake, I remembered the room I was in being much bigger. As a matter of fact, I thought that I was sleeping inside of a log cabin in the middle of a village, because that’s what my eyes were seeing. I even thought that the entrance led out to a front patio.”

“Ah. Sounds like yer mind was seein’ a different picture last time ye was awake,” Mullet said with understanding, “Happens whenever one who’s very sick wakes up while not being right as rain, it does.”

“Happened with me once,” Boyle voiced, and I just had to turn my head towards him, “I was as sick as sea dog just like you were. And when I woke up at one point, I found that I was layin’ in what looked to be a giant plate of melted chocolate. It looked so delicious that I couldn’t help but take a bite, but it turned out that I wound up in a big ol’ mud hole. Had to brush me teeth for two hours after that.”

“How’d you wind up in a mud hole?” I asked, genuine curiosity being in my voice.

“Well, let’s just say that someone decided it’d be funny to have me wake up in the mornin’ the way a wild hog would,” he told me, before giving a sharp look at Mullet, “And right as I was gettin’ better too.”

“I said I was sorry. How was I supposed to know that the ol’ wake up in a mud hole trick was nothin’ but a poor prank?” Mullet insisted.

“Well, you were the one who came up with it in the first place,” Boyle reminded with a glare, until his look softened, “But, I ain’t one to hold a grudge against another individual forever. After all, I wouldn’t be your friend if I did.”

“Ya got that right,” Mullet agreed, “I ain’t one to hold a grudge for long either. Even if ye were the one who dumped itchin’ powder in me pants to get me back, causin’ me to drag me buttox across the ground for 30 minutes straight.”

“Hey, I gave a genuine apology to ye the same day the captain got us to bury the hatchet. Or did that part get lost somewhere in yer noggin?”

As Mullet and Boyle were squabbling, I couldn’t help but look ahead with a smile. It was mainly because they reminded me of a couple of my older cousins back home on Earth, who were two brothers that often pulled pranks on each other and got on one another’s nerves yet loved each other regardless. And even though Boyle and Mullet obviously weren’t related, I can already tell that their friendship was like that of a sibling dynamic.

Just making the comparison in my head made my smile disappear. Mainly because I felt homesick.

“Hey, Pink-Skin,” I suddenly heard Mullet say. I snapped out of my thoughts and immediately directed my head to him, finding him with a smile of his own, “Glad the name stuck enough to get your attention. We’re here.”

As if right on cue, I suddenly hear yelling. Muffled yelling. I moved my head again to find that it was coming from the other side of a door the pirates and I were in front of. The voices I was hearing sounded female.

“I’ll just give the bosses a knock for ya,” Mullet said, raising his hand to knock on the door, “Afterwards we can just drag you in and-”

“No.” I boldly said, which caused Mullet’s arm to stop midway and put it back to his side.

He and Boyle looked at me with surprise, likely because they didn’t expect me to have such a commanding tone.

I took a deep breath to explain myself, “I want to stand up first. As well as knock on the door myself, and walk right in.”

“You sure about that, mate?” Boyle questioned, raising an eyebrow at me, “If ya stand up, yer knees might still wobble like a drunk jellyfish.”

“I’m positive,” I told him, already feeling like I wanted to get up and move, “If I’m gonna face Tempest, I want to show her that I’m strong and can do things myself. I don’t want her to think I’m weak.”

“Wantin’ to impress the lady, eh?” Mullet quipped. I looked at him with a glare, but this only caused Mullet to chuckle a bit, “No worries, Pink-Skin. We get it.”

“We’ll be glad to let ya plant yer feet on the floor,” Boyle voiced, to which I saw him with an understanding look until he switched to a smirk, “After all, ya want her to swoon at the sight of ya, right?”

And now, my cheeks were turning red. With a rapid shake of my head though, I cleared the blush away. Then and there, I wanted to deny what they were saying, but I knew that it would only make them believe that they were right. So, I decided to focus more on getting myself up.

With a wiggle of my right foot, and a shake of the leg, I firmly planted my foot on the wooden planked floor. I did the same with my left foot and leg, albeit a little more quickly considering I was becoming more confident that I’d be on my two feet again in no time. Once I got my feet firmly standing, and made sure my legs didn’t feel like they’d give out, I started moving the front of my arms upwards. I then wiggled my fingers and hands, and when I found that they were alright, I completely unwrapped my arms from Mullet and Boyle’s shoulders, stretching my arms and shoulders upwards afterwards.

“Need to stretch yourself any?” Boyle asked.

“Yep.” I replied, which made them step away from me until they weren’t at my arm distance.

Taking this opportunity, I bent my knees up and down a few times while standing, and did the same with my feet. I then stretched my arms upwards, frontwards, and backwards while keeping the fingers of each hand wrapped between each other. Finally, I twisted my neck left and right, which made a loud pop; and bent my back left and right, which caused a cracking sound.

I gave moans of relief at all the times I cracked my neck and back.

“Aye, must feel real good to stretch like a rubber band after all that snoozin’, eh?” Mullet said with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Mhm.” I replied with a nod.

“Ready to go in?” Boyle asked.

“Yay,” I told him, “Tempest told you to let her know when I’d be here, right?”

“That she did.”

“Well, that’s great. But…” I paused before rubbing my neck out of shyness, “Would you mind if I knock on the door? And open it?”

“Ah, not at all, Matey,” Boyle assured with a wave of a hand, “After all, ya are the one Mrs. Firecracker wants to see. And I think she’d be happy to find ya up and about on your own.”

“Yay,” Mullet said in support, before gaining another mischievous look, “Besides, ladies love it whenever men do things themselves, and Mrs. Shadow will be in awe of simply seein’ you stand. Who knows? She may even invite you to bed later. As long as your on their good side then they can treat you right.”

Boyle gave Mullet a gentle punch on the shoulder, “Mullet!”

“What? I’m just sayin’ what I think.”

I blushed because of Mullet’s comment, but I didn’t let that take control of me for too long. The last thing I wanted was to get distracted by unnecessary thoughts that were oh-so given to me by pirates.

As the arguing from the other side of the door continued, I slowly lifted my arm in the air and readied my hand for knocking on it.

I felt so nervous. So scared. The very thought of seeing Tempest again made me paralyzed beyond anything.

“Talk to her, and be truthful to her with every ounce of courage and honesty within you, just like a true knight would for their superiors.”

I sighed to myself. Remembering those words Tantabus said reminded me that I was no longer going to let my fears of Tempest hold me back, and that this very confrontation was the only chance I had of extinguishing the animosity between us. If I didn’t do it now, there’s no telling what could happen afterwards.

I knocked on the door. The tapping being gentle yet loud regardless. And once I stopped and put my arm down…

“Who is it?” an all too familiar voice said from the other side.

“Pink-Skin’s awake, Miss. We brought him and he’s at the door now.” Mullet said, waiting for whoever was on the other side.

A moment passed, not a sound came from the other side. Was anyone even there?

Then, the sound of a chair was dragged on a wooden floor and a feminine voice was heard.

“Thank you,” an all too familiar voice on the other side said, “Come in.”

I opened the door and moved inside, looking down as I walked. Once I got inside the room, I closed the door behind me before lifting my head up to face Tempest. When I looked up, though...I gained a look of surprise.

As I suspected, Tempest’s eyes were dead set on me and her expression was as stoneless as ever. However, what I didn’t expect was for her to be sitting on the edge of a bed, her right leg over her left one, her arms against her sides, and her hands on her belly. She looked incredibly well-rested too, with hardly a single bag under her eyes.

‘Just like Tantabus told me.’ I thought, remembering that from our one-on-one talk and further bonding in the dream world.

“Hello, Spencer.” She greeted, before moving her hands off her belly and onto the bed’s edge.

“Glad to see you awake,” She told me, before getting up from where she sat, “We need to talk.”

Author's Note:

I'm back. For how long? That is a question for another time.

Comments

[Desti]

I read the title as "Claim" not "Calm" and uhh while slightly disappointed I'm still gunna read it, wish me luck

[Deltafire34]

Well......back from the dead huh? Good to have you back. 🙂

[OP Omni God-Emperor Doom]

Strom King definitely have a death wish IF something happens to our human protagonist.

P.S. the Storm King is a total f**king moron for heavily underestimating Humanity and Earth as a while. He wouldn't last a single freaking day against our military ( U.S. ) or any other country!!!!

And he thinks he has the audacity to "one-up" our worst and diabolical dictators!!!???

If he heard about any of their greatest sins and atrocities. He will both be terrified of how nasty humans can get, and probably "admire/idol" them later on, disgusting.

P.S.S. When we get to the "part" where the Storm King obviously lied about the "deal" with Tempest's Horn like in the canon movie.

I hope Tempest will feel like a absolute moron and a piece of shit onto herself for doing these nasty war crimes and atrocities "for the Storm King", all of that to be for nothing, and being used by him in the end.

I hope Spencer will say "I told You So Speech". And Tempest will owe him a huge apology for all those brutal beatings!!!!!

P.S.S.S. And I know this might not have happened, but if there is a slight chance that there is a portal back to Earth.

And Spencer finally comes back to his friends and family. I bet that a whole lot of them will greatly despise Tempest for all those beatings, torture, slavery, greatly insulting his own grandfather, etc... when they hear the full story.

No matter IF Spencer now "likes" her. His parents were either sue, or try to even shoot/kill that "pure evil bitch" themselves, than to give their "blessing".

"Nobody messes with their baby/son!"

[Darth_krayt]

I can't wait to see his reaction when he sees how much muscles his body has grown with all the working out in his dream I wonder if he has a six pack

[Desti]

I read it, it's pretty good keep updating pls

[DoctorWhoooves]

“Glad to see you awake,” She told me, before getting up from where she sat, “We need to talk.”

Hell of a cliffhanger

[redandready45]

Glad to see this is back...the end of the chapter is interesting since it shows Tempest trusts Spencer enough to confide in him key information. I wonder how it will progress from there.

[MisterEdd]

Yaaaaay, new chapter! Me so happy!

[BureYaAkili]

All I wish is an update more often than once a year. But your updates are so, concise? Like, if you split this one up it would have been fine, but together makes more story sense? Dang it I just want more

[mlpengineer]

more please