Fire and Frost: a Tale of Vengance

When Captain Frostbite awoke it was with a sharp pain in his skull, his gut, and his groin. He wasn’t sure if it was a second horn or a lump on his head, but from the pain alone he assumed it was the latter.

He peered around in confusion, dizzy, and with a roiling feeling in his gut as if he might lose the contents of his stomach at a wrong move. Heavy chains rattled as he tried to get his hooves under him, independent of the chains they didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

The stench of manure and urine and rot filled his nostrils, gagging him. All around boards creaked and groaned, the rolling deck beneath him feeling natural to his sea legs.

‘Where—’ he began to wonder, but thinking hurt his head.

After a time he noticed the bars before him, mostly rust with specks of metal peeking through. He tried to crawl towards them, but the chains rattled at him and brought him back down. Stars danced before him as he slumped back to the floor and he curled up into a ball and wished the pain away for what seemed to be half an eternity.

He came back from a half-consciousness to the feeling of something gnawing at his belly. He opened his eyes to spy a long and black shape wiggling its way from his stomach. He jerked in surprise, and the rat rushed away with a squeak.

Something was wrong, he knew suddenly, he shouldn’t be here. He tugged at his manacled limbs, but the chains just laughed mercilessly back at him. Moving made him dizzy, so he lay on his side, grimacing at the chains as he cast an...he cast...cast! What was wrong with his horn!? An icy ring greeted him as he reached up to prod it, something preventing him from casting his magic.

A trickle of warmth flowed across his belly and at first he thought he’d wet himself, but it was the stench of copper, not ammonia, that greeted his nostrils. A glance confirmed it, the wound in his belly...his belly...when had he been stabbed? Who had—

“Medic! Captain’s been stabbed!” Broadhead yelled in his ear, making him flinch and jerk about.

“Lieutenant?” he asked, “Lieutenant!” he called out, stumbling to his hooves.

“Captain! We’re taking on water, we need to retreat!”

“From what!?” Frostbite yelled back, his head throbbing, “Who gave that order! What? Who!”

He flinched as the teleportation spell threw him in front of the angry god of hell, his mane whipping above him like a livid, black inferno.

“Die!” the god screamed down at him, “Fucking scum!” as he struck him and pulled the blade—

“Powder Burn!” Frostbite gasped, reeling back as if struck, “He...but...what...I...”

“Two masts, brigantine rigging,” that had been Broadhead, “We can’t outrun her...get some rest, captain.”

A knock echoed through the walls of his mind, making him jump, looking around warily. This wasn’t his ship, that much he knew, but if not his…

“Captain Frostbite. I’ve been told you took a wound.”

He pressed a hoof to his belly, the pain of it feeling like a weight trying to pull his guts out. Powder Burn had put the knife in him, but he’d escaped…

“Oh, I know. Your second in command told me that much,” and she was atop him, her weight pressing down into him as she’d reached down with a hind leg to stroke his arousal...but pain exploded up between his legs and...and...he knew nothing else.

“She...captured me?” Frostbite wondered aloud, then, “she captured me!”

He glared around. Through his haze and a sprinkling of stars he saw a brig, the dark shapes of rats scurrying about, a few large cells, one of them holding him, one empty, and another one with a pile of bones. It was nearly pitch black, a lonely lantern with but a dot of blue flame.

He glanced down at himself, spying a spot of blood dripping from a portion of his stitches that had come undone. He tried to grab at the loose ends with his magic before he remembered the nullifying ring around his horn.

A rusty hinge shrieked like a banshee, and light rushed in to blind him. He jerked away and covered his eyes with a hoof squinting at the sounds of approaching hooves. He squinted out over his forelimb as a series of hoofsteps halted before his cell. Four ponies, and he knew two of them.

“I told you he’d wake up,” Vanilla Bonnet said, “probably just a concussion.”

Powder Burn growled, a series of keys jangling on a loop held in his crimson magic.

“You betrayed me,” Frostbite growled at her, “I would have paid you.”

“With what?” Bonnet inquired, nothing about her smiling today, “you didn’t have four thousand bits.”

“We would have gotten it to you after he had been dealt with.”

Bonnet shrugged, “Tell me this: how insulted would you feel if I came to you offering to pay off some debt if you brought me one of your colleagues?” Frostbite said nothing, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“It’s not the same,” Frostbite snapped.

“It’s not?” Bonnet looked surprised, turning to Powder Burn, “is that true?”

Powder Burn growled out something unintelligible, not looking at the other pirate.

“Probably better I didn’t understand that anyways,” Bonnet gave a wing-shrug, turning back to Frostbite.

“Enough,” Powder Burn grumbled, finding his key and jabbing it into the lock, “Up.”

Frostbite frowned, but it only took a second for him to realize Powder Burn had been talking to the ponies behind him. His world spun and exploded with stars as the chains went taut, hoisting him up to dangle above the ground by his forelimbs.

Nails screeched over chalkboard as the door to his own cell opened. Bonnet flinched, ears flattening against her head as she sent a glare at Powder Burn.

“Do you deliberately not maintain this place?” Bonnet asked, “It smells rank, everything’s rusted to hell, it’s almost as if you never use this...oh, wait, of course you never use your brig.”

“Shut-up,” Powder Burn growled at the quip, approaching Frostbite and give him a good look, grinning viley, “You may go,” he ordered, and his own pirates left. He gave Bonnet a curdling look, but she made no move to leave.

“If you expect me—” Frostbite began.

Powder Burn silenced him with a punch to the gut that made him want to fold up, but the chains laughed at his agony.

“I expect you to die, slowly,” Powder Burn grumbled, “like the rest of your fucking civilization.”

“What did...” Frostbite gave a groan, wishing he could fold up and hold his aching gut, “Civilization ever do to you?”

“What’d civilization do to me?” Powder Burn asked with a chuckle, shaking his head with the laugh. He followed up with another jab to Frostbite’s gut, the Royal Guard grunting in pain, “I don’t drink,” Powder Burn began, dusting off his hoof on his shirt, “Drink lowers inhibitions and lowered inhibitions make you do crazy things,” Frostbite watched Powder Burn though star-splattered eyes, thankful that the beating had seemed to cease...for now.

“Makes you do crazy fucking things,” Powder Burn spat at the Guard, face taking on a darker edge, eyes blazing with fire that seemed to cook Frostbite’s very soul, “Makes you more courageous in most cases, for…” Powder Burn paused, struggling with something for a second, “for better or for worse.

“Now, what do you do with this newfound courage, hm?” Powder Burn asked, eyes not leaving Frostbite as he began to slowly circle the Guard, “Maybe it finally pushes you over the edge! Lets you push…yourself over the edge.”

Silence filled the room as Powder Burn grew still, behind Frostbite where the hanging pony couldn’t see him. Frostbite grew tense, was this where the killing blow finally came?

“I had a wife once. We had a...a nice little cottage in Stalliongrad,” Powder Burn chuckled, resuming his slow circle, “Bet you didn’t know that, did you? I’m from Stalliongrad, born and raised, but that’s getting side-tracked. My wife and I and our...our,” Powder Burn threw his eyes to the far wall, away from Frostbite, “two kids.”

Powder Burn grew quiet once more, continuing to watch the wall until he was in another of Frostbite’s blind spots, his sides shuddering with something far from laughter.

“They slandered her name, fucking locals. Slandered her name with unjust words! Whore! Adulterer! Fornicator! She wasn’t!” he yelled the last two words with something akin to a choked sob, “But they called her that anyways, fucking pigs!”

Stars exploded across Frostbite’s vision as Powder Burn struck him in the back of his head, the Guard’s eyes swirling about in blurred dizziness. Powder Burn began to come around again, furious eyes now damp and set on the floor.

“She couldn’t take it...she took to drinking, bringing us back to where we began, the two of us and this conversation. It only made things…worse. She became constantly drunken and angry, she scared the kids and I. They asked about her, you know? Why was...was mommy acting this way?” he choked back another sob with a sniffle, wiping his wet nose, “I had to quit my job at the docks to stay home and keep her from hurting anyone, hurting herself...I...I never thought she was actually capable of…doing it, but...

“But I had to leave sometime, buy food with our dwindling coins, firewood for the harshening winter,” he grew silent and still once more, almost outside of Frostbite’s peripherals, “And that’s when she did it,” his body was wracked by another fit of shuddering, “Our cottage, our beautiful little cottage, had this perfect view of the northern seas off the edge of a...cliff.

“She took both of them and waited for me to return. I knew it then, saw it in her eyes, saw the fear in the eyes of our kids,” Powder Burn turned and stood right in front of Frostbite, his body shaking, “She jumped...with them,” a hate filled snarl split Powder Burn’s features, his body quivering with pure rage as the room suddenly rose a few degrees. His breath came out raggedly as that hellish, soul-tearing fire burned in his eyes, “She fucking jumped with them!!” Powder Burn all but screamed into Frostbite’s face, spit splattering the Guard’s wincing features.

The two remained there for a time. The rage slowly dwindled from Powder Burn’s face, the room losing its heightened temperatures.

“Civilization,” Powder Burn sounded out, stoic and calm again except for his bloodshot eyes, “the root being civil, to call it such a thing. It sickens me.

“I killed every. Last. Fucker in that town, burned them to the ground in their homes with their screaming wives and their screaming children. And I will continue to do so until there is no more civilization.”

“But enough of that, now we get to move on to the three G’s,” Powder Burn let a mirthless smile crease his features as he drew his knife. Despite himself, Frostbite gave a gulp of fright, “They are, in order: Gelding, Gouging, and Gutting,” Frostbite grabbed Frostbite’s hanging balls with a hoof, pulling them taught to a wince from the suddenly weary Guard, “Geld you, gouge your eyes out, and gut you like the fucking animal that you and your fucking kind are,” Powder Burn growled, bringing his knife to the base of Frostbite’s…

“Give him to me,” Bonnet said suddenly, halting Powder Burn, “and I’ll consider your debt repaid.”

“What?” Powder Burn asked, turning, Frostbite looking at her too.

“C’mon, what’d I say, numbnuts? Turn him over to me, as is,” she glanced to Frostbite’s threatened anatomy, “and I’ll consider the money you owe me repaid in full.”

“Huh,” Powder Burn replied, not releasing Frostbite’s packaging, “And what’s the catch?”

“The catch?” Bonnet inquired, mock-taken aback, “Well, the catch is that if you do any more damage and-or don’t give him to me, you’ll still owe me a considerable sum in gold. Your choice, Captain, simple as that. I gave him to you as a gift, I believe I have every right to take back this gift. You getting your debt repaid is just the cherry on top.”

Powder Burn threw a calculating look to Frostbite, eyeing him for a moment, “And why?” Powder Burn finally asked, releasing Frostbite’s family jewels—to which the pony gave a silent sigh of relief—and turning to Bonnet, “You decide to sic him on me for real and I’ll carve up your precious little cunt and feed it to—”

“Oh, please,” Bonnet interrupted with a roll of her eyes, “I’d hardly need him to get rid of you, assuming that I wanted to in the first place. You’re not going to pay me back anytime soon and I’d wager I could get a decent bit of ransom money for his sorry self. Maybe not as much as you owe me, but it’s a start. Deal or no deal?”

Powder Burn looked over the beaten and battered Guard with hate and scorn, but finally turned to Bonnet, “Deal,” he said, sheathing his knife and making his way out of the room, “Our debt is repaid, Captain Bonnet. I assume you can find your way out.”

Bonnet waited until he was gone before pulling the keys from the door and eyeing over them. All was quiet but for the tinkle of metal as Bonnet went through them.

Frostbite kept his mouth shut, eyeing the mare up and down. Was this true, or just a trick to get his hopes up? Was Powder Burn just waiting behind the door with a pistol, ready to put a bullet in the back of his skull?

“It’s a long way back to Equestria,” Bonnet suddenly said, approaching with a key. Frostbite flinched as she unlocked his manacles, letting him thump to the ground before her, “if you behave yourself I might even let you keep a hammock in my brig.”

“You...are returning me to Equestria?” Frostbite asked guardedly, rubbing his sore hooves. He eyed Bonnet’s armor and weapons, rethinking any ideas of retaliation.

“Ransoming is the correct term,” Bonnet smiled back at him, “maybe I’ll get the rest of my pay from Equestria for your safe return. Now come along and be a good prisoner,” she led him out, his hooves finding it hard to stay under him.

Pirates spat sour looks at them as she paraded him up through the bowels of the Sacrilegious Saint, but Bonnet ignored them all. Up to the deck and over the side they went, Frostbite needing help to get down the line to a waiting longboat.

Dawn had come, Celestia’s sun rising high into the sky. The Sacrilegious Saint and the Blackjack bobbed side by side in the water, a good few ship lengths apart. The island was nowhere to be seen, and nor was the Crown’s Judgement. Bonnet’s pirates eyed him warily as they rowed, their weapons all within easy reach. The only one who seemed at ease with him being Bonnet herself.

“What happened to my ship?” Frostbite asked, uncertain he wanted to know.

“She followed us for a time, but we lost her just before midnight and haven’t seen her since. You can let them know of your good fortune once we get aboard the Blackjack. Perhaps she can act as our neutral ground,” Bonnet explained, frowning as she spotted the blood leaking from his stitches.

He flinched as he wings came towards him, leaning away as best he could, but after some prodding she procured needle and thread of her own, tying up the loose ends.

“I’m not going to rape you,” she chastised, pulling away and getting a few chuckles from her rowing pirates.

“Why?” Frostbite asked suddenly.

Bonnet gave him an odd look, “Um...do you want me to rape you?”

“No, why give me to Powder Burn only to take me back and ransom me?” he asked.

Bonnet shrugged, “I wanted to let him rough you up a bit, the story was a nice touch too, I almost shed a tear,” she snorted, “plus, I needed an excuse to get his debt repaid, he was never going to pay it anyways.

“Besides that, you couldn’t owe me a debt if he’d gelded, gouged, and gutted you, but now you do.”

“I owe you nothing,” Frostbite replied.

“Really? Perhaps I should give you back to Captain Powder Burn, then, shall I?” Bonnet gestured and the boat came to a halt in the water.

Frostbite growled unhappily, rubbing his sore head, “What more than my ransom could you want?”

“A favor,” she said.

“What favor?” Frostbite asked.

Bonnet smiled, “When the time comes, I’ll ask for it,” she turned as the rowers stopped, spying her ship as they threw down a rope, “Now, come along, your ransom awaits.”