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The Book2,166 words
Chapter One1,838 words
A Crew2,470 words
A Heading1,591 words
Ship-Shape1,955 words
Stormy Seas2,302 words
Exploration3,835 words
Medication3,599 words
Attraction3,099 words
Stealth2,351 words
Conversations3,591 words
Markets3,267 words
Hero4,712 words
Second Chance3,527 words
Awake3,508 words
Patched Hearts3,878 words
Rainbows4,685 words
Date3,538 words
Lurking5,702 words
Family5,364 words
Dangerous Territory5,053 words
Finding Common Ground4,082 words

Second Chance

After a mass apology to the town, and the cows, for causing so much panic, Manoete left to continue on his journey around Equestria. Big Macintosh then returned to the farmhouse, completely unaware that a multihued thief had beaten him there.
His mind was far from his work; specifically, it was in the meadow where the bullfighting had occurred the previous day.

Mac had never finished a fight that fast. Usually they took many more turns, occasionally lasting up to an hour, even more so when the bulls were on a testosterone and adrenaline fueled rampage, like with the usual Manolete issues. This time was different, however. Big Mac had a feeling that his goals were slightly more powerful than usual.

Those goals may have had something to do with the sky blue mare that he found himself hugging shortly afterward. He had never experienced such conflicting emotions as when he was holding her in her hooves; the elation that came from cradling the girl of his dreams in his hooves, the soul-crushing sadness from seeing her so scared, the determination to do everything he could to rid her of said fear, and the thankfulness that his attempts at comforting appeared to be working, swam through his mind.

His chores began to pass by, without the usual mind-clearing relaxation that accompanied them, as he was running on autopilot. His eyes kept wandering skyward, hoping that he might be able to catch a glance of the queen of the local airways, as she made her rounds; but alas, she never seemed to show up.

Reluctantly, he attempted to return his attention to the land that he was working under his hooves. His attempts were futile, as they refused to stay on the trees and cart.

“MAC!” He was called out of his rumination by his little sister, who was wearing a scowl beneath her well-worn Stetson. “Ah demand ta know why yer head’s so stuck in the clouds, ‘cause you’ve been haulin’ that cart in circles for an hour.”

She was tapping her hoof on the ground, obviously not wanting spend any more time than she already had. “Uh, Ah don’t know?” He offered, vainly hoping that his sister would accept the flimsy excuse.

Her single raised eyebrow showed that she wouldn’t.

She squinted at the strong face of her older brother, who had served as a best friend, a father, a protector, and a listener throughout her life, many of those roles she had attempted to return, and her gaze softened. “Is it a mare?”
It was exceedingly difficult to detect a blush on Big Macintosh’s already red face, but Applejack had discovered that the best place to look was the freckles, and they were the same color as his coat. Other small clues, like his lightly flicking ears, and a certain pulsing vein on his chest, gave away his embarrassment at the predicament. “Uh-”

“Don’t tell me now.” Applejack cut him off. “Ah understand that it’s private, an’ if ya want ta talk, we can; but fer now, let’s just try ta focus on workin’.”

She trotted away from her brother, leaving him with the foreboding thoughts of attempting to tell her about his crush.

Rainbow was happy to see Manolete leave. She had forgiven him, sure; but every time she saw him, her pulse began to quicken, and she began to search for a way out.

Shaking her head to rid it of the frightening image of the hormone-fueled bull, and opened Big Mac’s Dream Journal, preparing to resume the voyage.

Celebrations on deck continued for a long while, as we watched the smoldering remnants of the Swiftwing. Survivors appeared to be escaping on rafts being pulled by their fellow airborne shipmates.
We watched, and cheered, while Cookie made a banquet that was fit for a table of kings. A few crew members retrieved guitars, lyres, flutes, and assorted other instruments from their quarters and began playing shanties that were lively enough to cause even myself to begin to dance, although my wooden limb hindered my movements.

Rainbow Dash snickered, the image of the monstrous stallion lumbering around the deck of a ship being too much for her.

Daring Doo stayed by my side, being my dancing partner, and filling me with a certain sense of joy that was unrivaled by any that I had felt in years. However, that was cut short, when I heard a strangled cry.

The musicians ceased playing, and all of the crew stopped to listen to the noise. It came again in the form of a weak call from over the edge of the ship. “… Help, please …”

The entire crew rushed to starboard, causing the ship to tilt menacingly. I looked down to see two griffons, apparently crew of the Swiftwing. One of which appeared to be unconscious and propped up on some floating portions of the sinking ship, while the other was weakly paddling along beside, its feathers waterlogged and weighing it down.

“Stupid cat-chickens…” I heard Grog drunkenly slur from the other side of Daring Doo, followed quickly by the sound of a wheeze as a hoof met ribs.

“Rude…” Rainbow Dash muttered under her breath, never being one for racism of any kind.
Griffons were pretty awesome, after all.

I could see that the conscious one was struggling to stay above water, and I looked around to my crew for any signs of compassion. “What? Anyone gonna help ‘em? No? Fine.”

With that, I grabbed the loose end of a mooring line, wrapped it around my hoof, and leapt off of the deck. I fell, the water approaching fast, and I held my breath as the salt water broke around my hooves and stomach.

Rainbow Dash took a deep breath.

I sank below the surface of the chilly water, surrounding me in thick silence. I opened my eyes, gaining a view of my ship that I hadn’t seen before. The eternal, dark-blue haze around me was broken by the monstrous hull of my ship floating overhead, and the mostly submerged wreckage of the ship that I had destroyed to my right. Some scavenging fishes that had gathered around to feed off of the food stuffs in the wreckage, were also visible.

I began to rise to the surface, as the buoyancy of the air in my lungs took over. I surfaced rather close to the floundering griffon and his companion. I kicked over to them as well as I could, to aid the struggling creatures. The wet rope in my mouth made it difficult to breathe, but I wasn’t about to give up.

As Rainbow read that Mac had surfaced, she let out the breath.

I reached them, just as the fighting griffon began to give in. He closed his eyes and began to sink; before I wrapped a hoof underneath of him and hoisted him to the surface again.

I was being submerged by the weight of two limp bodies pushing down on my own, so I quickly wrapped the rope around them, and called to my crew to pull in the rope. My crew did as commanded, and drug us through the water until we were beside the looming hull, I fighting to keep three heads above the surface of the salt water. Slowly, we were lifted into the air, the two griffons by the rope wrapped around their chests, and myself by the hoof I had coiled the chord around.

We were hoisted onto the deck, and sloppily the two griffons dropped onto the deck. I, only with a little more grace, got to my three-and-a-half hooves.

“Stitch.” I shouted, before clearing some salt water from my throat. “Set up some beds in tha extra storage hold,” I commanded, “an’ git them there now.” I said, pointing to the two unconscious griffons.

Stitch demanded that a few other crew members carry the semi-lifeless forms to the makeshift infirmary, while she went to get the beds and her first aid things. Then Sea Dog approached me.

“Cap’n…” I could tell that there was something bugging him. “Th-they tried t-to k-k-kill us… Why are you helping them?”

A certain voice in the back of Rainbow’s mind agreed with them.

I stopped dead in my tracks, the assertion of my second-in-command making my blood run cold. “They didn’t try ta kill us.” I informed him coldly. “Their captain said that.” I looked at the crew, many of which had their ears tucked back, their heads lowered, or their tails between their legs. “They didn’t fire on us, their captain jus’ threatened to.” My brow pinched together at my hypocritical crew. “How many of y'all ‘re here on a second chance?” The shuffling of hooves and paws told me everything that I already knew. “Why can’t Ah give ‘em a second chance?” None of the crew offered a reason for a while, then Grog spoke up.

The concurring voice was silenced immediately.

“They’re griffons?” His racist suggestion earned the attention of Smoky Mirror’s back hooves. A few of the other unicorns along the edge of the ship used their magic to fish him out of the sea below.

“If that’s all, Ah’m gonna go check on our visitors.” I turned to leave, but before I descended, I called back, “Sea Dog, git Astro ta help ya git the right headin’.”

With that said, I descended the stairs into the holds, quickly noticing that the lamp at the entrance to the armory was the one that I had used as an improvised maltov coctail. I chuckled to myself, pleased with my ingenuity. As I approached the previously empty storage hold, that was now functioning as an infirmary, I could hear voices permeating the thin wall.

“She is e-extremely l-lucky t-t-to have s-s-someone like you there f-f-for her.” Came the stuttering voice of the ship’s resident surgeon.

“No,” came a weak, raspy, masculine voice that I didn’t recognize. “She’s lucky that she didn’t get impaled.” A few moments of silence passed before he continued. “And that your captain decided to help us.”

At that moment I entered the hold, and I noticed that the cots had been set up on either side of a stool that Stitch was sitting at. Stitch then pulled a few sprigs of mint out of her medicine bag, popping them into her mouth, and began to give her diagnosis. “She has immense trauma on her head and ribcage and possibly a minor concussion and trauma to the internal organs; as well as dehydration and minor asphyxiation. For yourself,” She said, looking at the alert griffon to her left, who I had assumed was the voice I had heard. “There is dehydration and asphyxiation, as well as one relatively major laceration at the left shoulder. The laceration has been mended, but needs to have movement restricted. Bed rest and fluids are recommended procedure for recovery.”

She had set up a small table between the two beds, and now placed a large jug of fresh water and two glasses on the surface for when the griffons needed a drink. She turned around and prepared to leave when she looked over to see me standing in the doorway.

“Captain!” she jumped slightly, and the conscious griffon behind her shuffled nervously. “I-I d-did as y-y-you a-asked.”

I looked around the room, my eyes resting on the two disabled creatures, that were now under my care, for just a moment. I then looked at her with the same flat, emotionless, expression that I usually have written across my face, and nodded. “Eeyup.”

She smiled, nodded, and rushed out of the room, leaving me alone with the one conscious griffon and his, strikingly familiar, comatose companion. I could tell that he was struggling to keep his eyes open, as he scanned my face, frantically attempting to read the expressionless mask that I kept on.

“Well,” Rainbow mumbled, “At least he knows it.” She squirmed slightly, “Why is he so hard to read?”

“Howdy.” I said, breaking the tension, “Ya need anythin’?”

“Uh, no, I’m fine.” He responded, confirming that he was indeed the other voice I had heard with Stitch. “Thanks.”

“Ya should drink,” I said, with some genuine concern that he probably wasn’t expecting. “It’ll do ya good.” He nodded, and poured some water into the glass that was on the table beside his bed. He sipped lightly and then tentatively laid his head down, falling asleep almost immediately.

Daring Doo trotted beside me, in a respectful silence. We made eye contact; she smiled sheepishly, and I responded with a more sincere version of the same gesture, which seemed to cause her to relax slightly.

She walked to the bed of the larger, black feathered, griffon that I had been talking to, while I walked to the bed of the other one.

Upon closer inspection of the frame and build of the griffon on the cot, I realized that it was a she, and there was something familiar about her. The pure white feathers on her head and chest were interrupted only by small purple feathers on the chest and identical feathers forming designs around her eyes.

“Wait…” Rainbow Dash sat up. “Gilda?”

I didn’t have many experiences with griffons before I bought my ship, but the griffon in front of me was identical to the one that I had any sort of interaction with. This griffon had visited the town that I used to inhabit, and terrorized the locals, including my grandmother. Eventually, her only friend ran her out of a town.

Rainbow Dash’s stomach tightened. “I-I didn’t even know M-Mac had met Gilda.” Her voice was wavering, as she began to wonder what her crush thought about her treatment of the griffon.

Joining the crew of the Swiftwing must have been her second chance, and I had just destroyed it.

There was a pang of guilt in my chest, as I realized that, even though she seemed to be rather self-centered and proud, and had left a bad image of griffons throughout the town, I should give her another chance. While she had visited the town, she was just trying to spend some time with a friend, that kept getting pulled away from her.

“Captain…” Came a whisper from behind me, and I turned to see Daring Doo looking at the other one. “Come see this.”

I walked as quietly as hooves and a peg leg would allow me to on the floorboards of the ship. As I approached her and the griffon, I could see her staring at something on his wings, which were now spread wide to allow air to pass over them and cool them tremendously. Curious, I asked, “What?”

Gesturing to the blueish-black coloration of his feathers and black-tipped beak, she made a slightly stunning revelation. “He’s royalty…”

“Beg pardon?”

“This coloration runs specifically in the royal family,” She then gestured to the few gold feathers on the underside of his wings. “And it looks like he dyed his feathers black, and recent molting has revealed some of the golden primaries specifically found in the most royal of griffons.”

My expression obviously portrayed my disorientation at her intense knowledge of the workings of one of the most elusive countries on the planet.

“I spent a lot of time in the North while searching for the Phoenix’s Staff. You pick things up.” She said, as though it was an all-inclusive explanation.

I shrugged my shoulders, content with the report, and gestured for us to leave them alone. As we began to walk towards the upper deck, she leaned against me. “Captain?” She said, to which I grunted in response. “Saving those two was really sweet.”

“They deserve ta tell their story.” I stated, before we ascended the stairs to the top deck, where the crew was bustling about, doing their duties and causing the ship to slice through the water towards our distant destination.

Rainbow Dash felt guilty, now wishing for the opportunity to give her old best friend a second chance. Attempting to get the thoughts out of her mind, she flew the book back to its rightful home.

After dropping the book off in Big Mac’s room, she practiced her routine, completely unaware of the emerald eyes below her that were silently praising her every move that she made.

She did manage to subdue the overwhelming guilt; however, on the down side, she had replaced them with thoughts about Big Mac. His muscular frame, his tender caress while he comforted her, and his subtle awesomeness that he only revealed to certain ponies.

The realization that she was one of those fortunate, “certain ponies,” made her heart flutter. “I need to talk to somepony about him.” She decided, hoping that one of her friends would know what to do about her feelings.

Applejack was out of the question; Dash revealing that she liked Big Mac to his sister would probably not go over well. Plus, Applejack was terrible at keeping secrets.

Fluttershy was a great friend, and an excellent listener, but she had always been to timid to even talk to guys, so there was little that she could do for Dash.

Pinkie Pie was not a good listener, she also seemed to be physically incapable to hold down a steady relationship.

Twilight had absolutely no experience with guys and would probably attempt to find the answers to Rainbow’s questions in a book.

Rarity … was actually not a bad option. She had been in several steady relationships. She was positively addicted to romance novels. Sure, Dash would probably have to function as a living ponyquin, but maybe she could help.

Having made her decision, Rainbow Dash banked hard for Ponyville. Zipping over countless stalls and buildings, with the gaudy building in her sight.

Alighting on the doorstep of Carousel Boutique, Dash swallowed, attempting to clear the butterflies out of her stomach. She raised a hoof, looked around to be sure that she wasn’t being watched, and pushed the door open.

“Hello, and welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everyth- Oh, Rainbow, what a pleasant surprise!” The glamorous owner of the store called out as she came out from a back room. “What are you doing here? Not that I don’t enjoy a visit from a good friend, but you rarely stop by.”

“Well,” Rainbow steeled her nerves and prepared to do the inevitable. “I need some advice.”

“Why certainly Rainbow, dear.” Rarity said, completely blind to the emotional turmoil occurring inside Rainbow Dash’s head. “Would you mind assisting me in here while we do?” She called as she walked out of the room.

“Fine…” Dash muttered as she followed her friend.

“So what’s on your mind?” Rarity asked, “Oh, and could you put this on?” She levitated a fancy saddle over to Rainbow Dash.

Dash slid the saddle on and began to explain. “Well, you see…” designer’s tape, pins, and assorted pieces of fabric floated over to Rainbow’s side, and began to adjust to the saddle. “I’ve started reading this book… and there’s this ‘character’… Rarity?”

The designer had become distracted by the window and what was outside. “Hmmm? Oh, sorry Rainbow. I was just distracted…” Once again, she was staring out the window, apparently at Big Mac, who was hauling a cart through the square.

“Oh, I know that I shouldn’t think about Applejack’s brother like that, but he is quite the stallion.” Rarity fluttered her eyelashes.

“Uh,” Rainbow had no idea what to do. She couldn’t compete with Rarity, “Y-ya know what? I just remembered that I have a, uh… weather meeting. I have to go, now.” And with that, she slid out of the room and made a dash for the door.

“What was that dear?” Rarity looked around the empty room. “Rainbow, where are you? Where is my saddle?”

Rainbow had almost made it to the door, the saddle was restricting her flying abilities, and she was almost free. Then the door opened, and she ground to a halt. She found herself staring into the deep green eyes of Macintosh Apple.

“Uh…”

“...Howdy.” Big Mac said. “That’s a nice saddle, Dash.”

Rainbow found herself blushing furiously at the subtle compliment. “Oh, I was, uh, just helping Rarity. It’s not really mine. And, uh, I gotta go.”

“Oh, well, Ah was jus’ droppin’ off some dye for Miss Rarity.” He stepped aside, giving her free reign of the door. “Wouldn’t want ta hold ya up.”

“Thanks.” She managed, at a volume that might give Fluttershy a run for her bits.

“Rainbow Dash?” Came the call of the prim and proper mare that owned the boutique as she entered the room. “Oh, Macintosh, thank you for dropping off the dye. Have you seen Rainbow Dash? She was just helping me.”

“She jus’ flew out tha door.”

“Was she wearing a saddle?”

“Eeyup.”

*sigh*

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