Friends and Enemies

by ObabScribbler

Trapped in the Tower

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8. Trapped in the Tower

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The door to the tower room had a small slat at the top that periodically slid back to reveal a baleful griffin eye. It was too small to use more than one eye at a time, which led to the guard turning this way and that trying to see inside without opening the door. Evidently there had been a shift change and this guard was not as lazy as the last one, because he gave up and opened the door for a better look. His big frame took up almost all the light behind him, casting himself and in the interior in silhouette.

“Overgrown pigeon!”

He frowned and peered around. “Who said that?”

The five pegasi chained to the curved walls stared back at him. All wore the blue uniform and goggles of the Wonderbolts, their manes and individual cutie marks sewn onto the flanks the only distinction between them. In the poor illumination it was difficult for even griffin eyes to see the marks, since their vision was geared towards long distance hunting, like eagles, rather than low light hunting like owls.

The guard ground his beak in irritation. “You ponies had better learn some manners, or it’ll be curtains for you.” He waited for a response but none came. “Whatever. You’re al dead meat anyhow. You just don’t know it yet.” Threat made, he turned away.

“Ooh, we’re so scared!”

He whirled back, eyes darting, but none of the pegasi had moved. He swished his tail and let out a small growl, but they could have been part of the stonework. “Ponies,” he muttered as if it was a dirty word, shaking his head. He backed out and slammed the door behind him, pressing one eye to the slat before sliding the cover across that as well.

It took a few minutes of silence for anypony to speak again.

“Are you mentally deficient, Soarin’?”

A blue pony with an even darker blue mane grinned. Since he, like all the others, had been spread-eagled on his hind hooves against the wall and chained into place, he couldn’t push up his goggles to meet the angry stare of the mare across from him. “You expected me to stay quiet?”

“I expected you not to bait the guard with the sharp claws and short fuse while you’re strung up like a plucked chicken,” she replied.

“Hey, I resent the plucked part! I still have my feathers.”

She exhaled harshly. “You pick the weirdest times to focus on stupid details.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Whatever.” The mare wiggled back and forth, trying for the hundredth time to loosen the coils of rope around her middle.

“You’re gonna pull a wing muscle that way, Spitfire.”

“You expected me to stay still?”

Soarin’ nodded. “Touché.”

All their wings had been bound before they were manacled. The griffins had used their prodigious strength to bend whatever metal they could find and use it to encircle their hooves: light fixtures, candelabras, ornaments, plus whatever other trappings were around Canterlot Castle. The manacles had a cobbled-together look but did the job they had been designed for: no matter how much she had struggled, Spitfire had only rubbed her own legs raw without making a dent on her restraints. Their captors had made extra sure they could cause no problems. In a way it was complimentary that the Claw Army thought the Wonderbolts were enough of a threat to merit this kind of special treatment, but the griffins’ precautions had made escape almost impossible. Still, she tried again and again while they weren’t looking, as if she was trying to wear down the metal and rope against the cool stone of the tower wall. Since there was only one small window and none of them could fit through it even if they were free, it begged the question of what she intended to do if she ever DID untie herself.

Eventually she loosed a gusty sigh and hung her head. “Well this sucks.”

“Understatement!”

“Yes, thank you, Soarin’. Once again your contribution has lowered the collective IQ of the room.” She twisted to look at the mare next to her, also in a Wonderbolt uniform with goggles pulled over her eyes. “How are you holding up, newbie?”

“Um-I’m-okay-Miss-Spitfire-thanks-for-asking-and-thanks-again-for-what-you-did-I-really-appreciate-the-risk-you-took.” Fluttershy spoke so fast her words blurred together. Spitfire blinked as she slowed them down in her head.

“MISS?” Soarin’ translated first and grinned. If you didn’t know any better and couldn’t see the tightness around his mouth you could mistake his tone for genuine cheerfulness. If there was one thing the Wonderbolts did well, it was put on a show. “You’re sure going up in the world, Spitfire.”

“Put a sock in it, Soarin’.” Spitfire nonetheless shot Fluttershy an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry about it. Like we were going to leave you high and dry out there for those griffins?”

“It’s not like Cyclone needed his uniform anymore,” muttered one of the other pegasi.

For a second Spitfire’s expression twisted up in pain. With her eyes on show it was much easier to read her emotions and Fluttershy’s own heart twisted in response. She had been injured and cornered when Spitfire and Soarin’ rescued her. Reasoning that they needed to conceal her identity from the Claw Army when it became clear the battle was going south, they presented her with a uniform and protected her while she put it on. Their plan had been to smuggle her out of Canterlot in one of their formations but that had failed when a platoon of griffins brought what was left of them all down. A team of ten Wonderbolts had come to Canterlot but only four remained.

For a while they had all thought they were going to become casualties too, but against all odds the griffins had instead spared their lives and brought them here instead. What they had planned for the remaining Wonderbolts remained to be seen. Twilight had called on the team to help the besieged capital as warriors, but they were a pretty powerful emblem of Equestria and parading them around in chains would certainly send a clear message to the rest of the land.

Fluttershy tried not to think about the whirlwind cutie mark masking her own butterflies. She was acutely aware she was wearing something another pony had died in. It wasn’t as if Spitfire and Soarin’ would have just happened to be carrying a spare uniform onto a battlefield, after all, but they had been sparing with details and point blank refused to answer when she asked. Their teammates, on the other hoof, were not as considerate.

“Poor Cyclone didn’t stand a chance,” said the pony who had spoken; a lilac mare with a green mane that hung in tendrils like a mass of leafy vines. Her cutie mark was a green parrot but Fluttershy didn’t know her name. Rainbow Dash would have. She knew the entire roster of Wonderbolt members, including those benched through ill health, retirees, tech help and every single standby. “Neither did Quicksilver. Two of those creatures just knocked him out of the air right in front of me. They were ripping him to pieces all the way to the floor. Just … ripping him to pieces ...” Her voice choked up until she couldn’t speak anymore.

“We all saw stuff out there,” said a stallion whose frothy white mane and blue coat resembled clouds on a sunny summer day. “Try not to think about it.”

“How do you NOT think about something like that? Quicksilver was my wing-pony. I should’ve saved him!”

“And Cyclone was my lead-pony,” the stallion replied tightly. “But I’m not beating myself up about somepony else wearing his uniform because I wasn’t fast enough to save him.” He hadn’t looked once at Fluttershy since they were brought in here. His goggles were perched on his head, making his avoidance of her easy to see. Now his behaviour made a lot more sense.

“At least Cyclone went quickly: they broke his neck before he had time to feel anything. I can’t get Quicksilver’s screaming out of my head.”

“Try.”

“What about Snow, Flicker, Gallant Heart and Tempo? You saw what happened to them. You can’t just FORGET something like that. It’s … it’s too heartless!”

“Try,” the stallion replied inflexibly.

The leafy mare glared daggers at him. “Screw you, Cirrus.”

Fluttershy wished she could flop her long hair in front of her face to shield her from their corrosive anger and grief, but Spitfire had used a piece of broken stained glass to saw her mane into a rough buzz-cut and dock her tail in an effort to make her look less like herself. Her neck felt cold and strange, as if she really had stepped outside herself and into somepony else’s body as well as their uniform. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be sorry,” Spitfire said sharply. When Fluttershy cringed she softened her tone. “I knew Cyclone from his first day at the Academy and I can tell you for a fact that he would be honoured that his uniform helped to save your life.”

“I …” Fluttershy swallowed. Her throat was dry and she really wanted a drink of water. “I …”

“You want to say something?”

“I … I just …”

“Spit it out already!” snapped the mare with the leafy mane.

“Verdant!” Spitfire glared at her so hard she immediately fell silent.

Fluttershy took a strengthening breath. “I don’t understand why you saved me over all the other ponies out there.” It was something that had been bothering her from the start. She had been far from the only pony in trouble, but Spitfire and Soarin’ had made a beeline for her the moment they spotted her.

“Seriously?” Soarin’ laughed, but it sounded forced. “You’re seriously asking why YOU’RE an important pony?”

“Shh!” Spitfire shushed him. “We don’t know how thick that door is.”

Fluttershy’s wings twitched unconsciously against her ropes. A bolt of pain shot into her left shoulder, reminding her of the injury that had left her grounded when all that other pegasi took flight with their nets, hoping to ensnare the attacking griffins and end the conflict without bloodshed. It had been a valiant attempt but ultimately ended in failure.

“I still don’t understand,” she said. She wasn’t a fool: she understood that she and her friends were valuable because they wielded the Elements of Harmony, but the necklaces and crown that contained that special power had been stolen before the battle even began. Twilight had told the Wonderbolts this when she implored them to come and defend Celestia and Luna against the oncoming Gryphon horde. “You know that … you know about the theft.”

“Kinda hard not to figure out the Elements were stolen since we’re, y’know, in Canterlot Tower and there’s a big honking empty space where they should be.” Verdant’s brief cowed silence gave way to sarcasm.

“Verdant!” Spitfire hissed. “We may be in a tough spot right now, but I’m still your ranking superior, so I’m ordering you to keep your mouth shut unless you have something useful, or at least NOT negative to say. Do you understand me?”

“But–”

“Do. You. Understand. Me?”

Verdant turned her face away, her jaw set in a mutinous line. “Yes, Spitfire.”

Fluttershy shrank against the tension filling the little room like soup. Her wing hurt, but not as much as her heart. She was worried about her friends and thinking about the Elements of Harmony inevitably led to thinking about them. Where were Twilight, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash and Spike now? What had happened to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna? She couldn’t think anything good had befallen them if the griffins had taken over so thoroughly, but imagining their fate was beyond her ability. Her gentle nature simply could not envision the kinds of things a harsh nature like King Claw’s might do to his conquered enemies, despite what Verdant kept saying about the fates of the other Wonderbolts. All Fluttershy could do was worry, fret and desperately try to keep some small flame of hope burning inside herself. If she didn’t know the worst, there was still a possibility her friends were okay. They might have escaped – and maybe even somehow, against all probability, taken the princesses with them. She couldn’t think how, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t possible. She had to keep hoping and do her best to free herself and these brave pegasi who had saved her.

She focussed on the window. Spitfire saw her gaze settle and followed it. After a minute or so she looked back at Fluttershy, forehead creased in puzzlement. “What’s so interesting out there?”

“I’m hoping a little bird or insect might land there or pass by close enough for me to call it inside.”

“You can do that?” Soarin’ asked.

Fluttershy nodded.

“Birds and bugs can understand you?” The stallion called Cirrus sounded sceptical. He still wouldn’t look at her, but at least he was acknowledging her presence.

“Animals too,” Fluttershy replied without rancour.

“Why do you want one of them to come in?”

“I’m hoping I can get a message back to Ponyville.”

“Somepony there can translate bug too?”

Fluttershy shook her head.

“Then what’s the point?” Verdant ignored Spitfire’s expression to demand. Evidently the chains gave enough promise of no punishment to lend her extra courage when it came to defying the Wonderbolt leader.

“My rabbit, Angel, is good at making ponies understand what she wants,” Fluttershy tried to explain.

Verdant rolled her violet eyes. “Oh, great, so we’re relying on MAYBE a bird or bug passing, who’ll MAYBE flit back to your hick town, MAYBE talk to a RABBIT, who’ll then MAYBE get some random pony to MAYBE understand what’s happened here. Brilliant plan. Absolutely top notch.”

“Have you got a better one?” demanded Spitfire.

“Well … no,” Verdant was forced to admit.

“Then quit picking on the one pony actually trying to do something constructive, otherwise when we get out of here you’ll find yourself repeating your whole time at the Academy with a special emphasis on insubordination and how to not be a pain in the rump.”

“WHEN we get out of here?” Cirrus echoed. “That’s mighty presumptuous talk. Shouldn’t you say ‘if’?”

“Why would I say ‘if’? We’re Wonderbolts.” Spitfire met Soarin’s gaze across the chamber and he nodded, showing why they worked so well as lead- and wing-pony. They knew each other so well Soarin’ needed no further prompting to follow her lead exactly.

“Wonderbolts don’t quit and don’t back down,” he proclaimed. “Am I right?”

“Yeah!” Spitfire tried to punch the air, rattling her chains. She looked at Cirrus and Verdant. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Cirrus said without enthusiasm.

Verdant rolled her eyes again. “You’re all nuts. We already lost. Canterlot lost. The whole of Equestria already lost. It’s hopeless.”

“No, it’s not,” Fluttershy said, still quiet but not quite a tremulous as before. “It’s not hopeless.”

“Says the pony who thinks a bug can save us.” Verdant shook her head and looked away, her thoughts clearly still on her wing-pony and the terrible things she had witnessed. Her lower lip quivered but she allowed no tears to fall.

Fluttershy swallowed and refocused on the window, willing herself not to cry either. It wasn’t hopeless. It WASN’T. She couldn’t let herself think that way.

Please, she thought. Please …

Comments

[temerarii pulsat]

ugh i want moar lol atleast your putting out ate a nice rate keep up the good work i can't wait to see where this goes, i hope the ponies win

[Eurobeat11]

touche means 'You hurt me' not we are even. Sorry.