Odysseed

by AuroraDawn

Chapter 11

Applejack soon realized that her time aboard the Croupiere was being very quickly divided into lengths between meals. She had gone back to her cabin after speaking with Due North—after a quick detour to grab a bucket from the galley, as directed—and layed down, opting to nap to try to offset the awful sleep she had gotten. Once again she had been woken by a knock, informed food was ready, and left alone in her cramped quarters to roll off the rock hard mattress.

The midafternoon snooze had done wonders for her, though, so she wasn’t ready to complain of her day being wasted away quite yet. The captain’s warnings about avoiding the rest of the ship to stay out of the way might have been genuine, but she figured he also had intended her time to adjust to the constant motion of the ocean, and given her an excuse to hide away on a bunk unless absolutely necessary. Once again she stretched and yawned, and then stepped out to slip down to the mess.

Already most the crew had gotten their rations, so there was no line this time. She had a small exchange with Stewaway, picked up a plate of fried grass with carrots, and sat down next to Due North.

“Feeling better, dear?” she asked, her lilty voice tinged with concern.

“A fair bit,” Applejack replied, trying a small bit of carrot and testing how it felt. The second she swallowed it she realized just how hungry she had been, and instantly felt starving. “Ooh,” she muttered, rubbing her belly.

“Or maybe not, then?”

“Nah, not that. Just remembering I technically didn’t eat today.” She craned her head around back to the counter, investigating. “I haven’t had a lick of liquid either. I was thinking there might be cider on board, you know, hearing tales of you sailin’ folk, buuut, I should probably stick with water for now.”

“Allow me,” Due North said, quickly magicing over two mugs from near Stewaway, who gave her a sharp look and opened his mouth to complain.

“No non-personal magic in the mess, damnit!”

“Stow it, Soups,” Due North called back. “Our Royal Guest is thirsty. What’s one exception?”

He grumbled but said nothing else.

“Really now?” Applejack said, twisting a brow up. “Are ya name dropping already?”

“Moreso to get him to shut up. We’re not supposed to use magic in here unless it’s to like, hold our forks and whatever. It gets to be a busy place and if you’re not paying attention there’ll be grog on the floor, which is a hazard, so then you get to mop it up, and then you’re in pony’s ways, and…” She rolled her eyes. “Not worth it. But for a quick cup of water, what the Tartarus, right?”

She raised her mug and Applejack mimicked her, cheersing together before taking a small swig. As she drank, a small wave of relief washed over her.

“I probably shoulda done that a lot earlier,” she sighed, grabbing a larger mouthful of grass now. “Feels loads better.”

“Once you’re trained on water, we’ll get you adjusted to cider, don’t you worry,” Due North giggled. “But if you can’t hold your water, I shudder to think how you’d handle booze.”

This earned a few laughs from the sailors around them, and Applejack glared.

“What? We have to make fun of you. It’s practically the law of the sea,” she said. She looked around to a series of nods, and then gave Applejack a playful punch. “But you’re a big strong farm girl who can take it, right?”

Applejack stuck her tongue out at Due North before taking a larger drink of water. “You’re darn rights I am. But just you wait, I’ll be watching for you to make one misstep—”

“Like last month when you tripped over the chip log and fell into the dirty mop water?” somepony said.

Due North erupted into a blush.

“Alright, well maybe I’m making fun of you because I’m a little sore about how it’s been my turn fairly often lately.”

“Oh, well, jab away,” Applejack said, beaming.

“I think I’m done now anyways. So… can I talk to you about navigation?”

Her eyes were like Winona’s when she wanted something she wasn’t allowed, Applejack realized.

“O’course. Lessee, what do I remember… Alright, tell me about a sextant.”

The two continued to converse for quite a while, until the whistle and bells that Applejack was quickly becoming accustomed to sounded off, and Due North hastily excused herself as having to do final checks before her shift change. Applejack drained her water, set the mug down on the serving hatch, and started back to her bunk. Halfway there, she paused, and then turned around and slipped up to the main deck.

The sun was right on the horizon, cut off by a serenely calm sea. There was hardly any wind at this point in time, and the light breezes caught the sails above furtively. The sound of the canvas flumping out time and time again seemed to be the only noise that wasn’t the echo of hooves clopping about her.

She turned around and headed to the other side of the ship, facing east. The moon was in a similar position to the sun, half submerged in water, and a few early stars had started to appear out of the red and purple mix surrounding it.

Cool air filled her lungs, and she closed her eyes and simply stood there, breathing in. She bathed in the slim moonlight, listening only to the snaps of canvas in the wind and the lapping splashes. She almost jumped when she realized that the ship was still creaking, but she hadn’t even noticed it—so consistent in her life now it was already assigned behind the background in her mind.

It was the beginning of a truly wonderful night, Applejack figured. She had about an hour before lights out, and thought about how she could spend it. From what it appeared, ponies weren’t allowed on the quarterdeck unless they were one of the officers; the captain, or the navigators or bosun, or on occasion a sailor who had a job to do. One such pony was there now, that squinting-eyed recruit that Stewaway had warned her about, dutifully mopping the deck without paying attention one bit to the mare staring at him.

She was content to stay here for a while, leaning on the railing and watching the moon rise, perhaps waiting to see if she could recognize Hydras before heading to bed. Content until, that is, a more intense breeze picked up from the south and the ship lurched and jerked in response to the rush of waves it had brought.

She smiled up at the sky, stretched over the railing and hurled again, and called it a night.

Comments

[Hobbestc]

Poor Applejack. You'll get those sea legs eventually!