The Lumberjack's Lace

II, Travel In Twos

To say that Jasmine wasn't happy would be an understatement.  She was completely miserable.  All of her merchandise was more-than-likely ruined, she'd probably have to preen until her neck was sore, and her rear left ankle was hurting because she'd sprained it slipping on the path.  In truth she didn't mind her ankle that much, but it didn't help to keep her eroding patience intact.  On top of all of this, she couldn't breathe from her nose because it was blocked off with coagulated blood, and there was something in her eye that wouldn't leave.

With my luck, she mused darkly to herself, it's probably some lethally poisonous thorn the wind blew off of some bush to land in my eye.  But after a few seconds, she then decided that her instantaneous death would actually be a blessing at that particular moment, so her luck would have it be something completely harmless.  She then chuckled a bit at the thought, Oh, woe is me, I'm still alive.  Ohh noooo...

Her face turned to the mist-obscured ground beneath her as she let in a rush of cold air through a yawn, her eyes squeezed shut.  And her forehead collided painfully with something solid, startling the yawn out of her throat.  She looked up to see a shuddering pile of logs on the bed of a wagon, stacked four high and four across at the bottom, with supports on either end to keep them from rolling off.  It took her a moment to realize that somepony was pulling the wagon, and that pony was about to get dragged down the other side of the hill along with their lumber.

Jasmine moved to the roadside and released her hitch, then caught the back of the wagon's bed in her teeth and pulled.  Splinters of old wood broke away from the bed and made her lose her grip, nearly leaving her on her haunches with a tongueful of sharp wood.  She spat it out and dashed around to the other side, where she braced her shoulder against it and ground her hooves into the dirt.  Twice she lost her footing, but little by little, they brought the wagon back to the top of the rise.

The pony she was helping released the decrepit hitch that kept them attached to the wagon and let the arms fall to the mud, then collapsed on the roadside.  As she trotted up to see if they were alright, she couldn't get a good look at their features through the rain, but she could see they were big and blue, and their build was masculine.

"Are you alright?" she said loudly over the rain, craning to see his face.  His mane was long and dark, with his bangs were sticking to the mud and his forehead.  He turned his head slightly to look at her, and his dark eyes widened as he seemed to realize she was still there.  He pulled himself to his hooves and his wings fluttered, tattered, disheveled and muddy.

"Thanks," he said, nodding to her.  His voice was strong, but it wasn't all that deep.  Certainly not as deep as Macintosh, one of the apple farmers she traded with regularly in Ponyville.  A dull crack rang out, and the stallion's eyes flicked behind her.  He ran back to the wagon as the arms snapped, sending his entire load into a free-roll down the hill.  It disappeared into the storm, barreling its way down the road like a locomotive.  His ears flattened and his mane fell over his face, as he lowered his head in defeat.

Feeling inclined to keep his mood better than hers, she nudged his elbow.  "Hey, c'mon.  You needed a new cart anyway."  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze even and lost.

"Right," he said, his dead expression remaining as he kept walking.  She frowned, determined to help him out.

"You wanna wait this out with me?" she called.  He stopped, giving her an odd look.

"Under your wagon?"  When she didn't answer him, he continued, "We'll be just as wet."  She shrugged, her soggy braid shifting on her shoulder.

"We're on a hill, so we won't have water running under us," she pointed out.  Then she smiled.  "There's nothing but stormy road if you keep going."

He studied her for a long pause, then slowly turned around and trudged back through the mud.  He stood in the road as Jasmine walked over to her cart and closed the ring around herself, pulling the wagon out of the underbrush and letting it go in a position where it wouldn't follow the lumber cart down the hill.  Then she opened the chest with her tent booth in it and crammed her saddlebags inside, shutting the lid back and crawling under her wagon.  It took a few seconds, but he stepped over and managed to get his large frame under their shelter.

Neither of them spoke for a while, though dripping wet and freezing, they were grateful for the other's warmth.  The traffic she had seen earlier seemed to have abandoned the paths after it started raining, retreating to roadside inns and the small towns that dotted long roads like these.

It's a good thing, she thought with a chuckle, since we're camping in the middle of the road.  He laid his head down on his forehooves, sighing and watching something in the underbrush by the path.  She soon followed suit, crossing her legs over themselves and resting her chin on top of them.  The rain lulled her ears, and her companion's breathing silenced her thoughts.  Her weight pressed into his side as she fell asleep, leaving him to watch the rain on his own.

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Valleys are deep and misty, flanked by mountains and hills on all sides with birds flitting about like little rockets with a destiny.  Being the vast expanse of beauty they commonly are, they're usually unmissable.  But in the middle of a downpour only comparable to the sky imploding, it's rather difficult to take in your surroundings.

When Blue opened his eyes, the world around the wagon was drenched and soggy, but the rain had stopped and the sun reflected off the clouds.  Jasmine was still asleep with her head propped against his shoulder, snoring quietly.  Huffing to himself, he laid his head back down and waited for her to wake on her own.

It took her a while, maybe half an hour, but she began to stir.  She realized she was leaning on him and quickly righted herself, rubbing her nose with an ankle.  "Sorry 'bout that," she said, suppressing a yawn and shaking her head a bit.  He just shrugged and looked at her almost mournfully.

"It's fine."  He crawled out from under the wagon and took a deep breath, able to see what was around him quite clearly now.  In the direction they came from, the road wound and disappeared into the rippling hills, away from the sunset.  A dense wood was just a few yards from the roadside, and the hill he nearly tumbled down lead into a vast, beautiful valley.  The road dipped in and curved around a glassy, blissful lake, to vanish on the other side between two mountains.  On the other side of the valley was a thin forest of willow trees, their leaves lost when summer ended.  On the end opposite them, on a plateau, liquid rainbows fell from pools in the clouds and disappeared into the distant buildings of Rainbow Falls.

"Hey, what's your name?" he heard the mare ask.  When she didn't recieve an answer, she stepped past the rise of the hill and took a breath.  "Oh.  Wow."

I was almost there, he roared at himself silently.  And I still lost everything.  His jaw was clenching.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she said.  It made him realize she was looking at him again.  Her eyes made him feel translucent, like he was a book for her to read.  But instead of meeting her gaze, he watched the willow trees sway in the wind, leaning into each other as if in conversation.

He took a deep breath, and said, "I'm fine."  He glanced back at her wagon.  "You ready to go?"  She watched him for a second, and moved to hitch herself to her cart.

"Yeah.  Let's go."

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As they descended the hill, the stallion kept a wary hold on the back of the cart, and when they reached the lake he stopped and stared at the water.  She followed his eyes to a lone piece of wood hardly sticking out of the reflective surface.  The rest of his wagon and it's load were barely visible under the glassy lake.

Dark shapes slowly merged out from the other side of the lake; an airship reflected on the water, guiding Jasmine's eyes to the sky.  From the south east, it came into view, soon followed by another.  The second one, however, seemed to cradle dense storm clouds on either side.  Jasmine could see propellors on both of the ships, with two in the back and one on either side.  "I haven't seen one like that before," the stallion mused, his mind taken off of his lost lumber.

She watched the aircraft slowly come closer in awe, but turned away when a small breeze blew and she shivered.  We need to arrive before it gets too dark.  "C'mon," she called back to him, starting forward again.  "We're gonna be late."  He fell into step behind her, and when she glanced back at him, she could see another wagon of goods being hauled by high-end ponies rising over the hills to enter the valley.

Already, the traffic is picking up again.

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When they reached the mountains, they immediately saw the zigzagging path leading up the plateau rock face to their destination.  Nearly every stretch of road was already full of traffic from the other direction, and she was about to sigh and trudge up the path when she felt her cart shift.  She looked behind her, finding her companion with the back of her cart in his forehooves.  "What're you doing?" she said, looking at him accusingly.

He looked at her, his brow knit, and said, "What're you carrying in this thing?  Rags?"

"Clothes, actually," she said, frowning.

"Oh.  Well it's light.  I figured we could skip the trail and lift it," he continued, ruffling his wings.  She looked back at the impossibly slow line with a growing number of members and shrugged.

"Sounds good, actually."  She'd never carried a wagon before, but she supposed she could just follow his pointers since he seemed to have more experience with heavy lifting.

"Goes best without the hitch," he pointed out.  She released the ring around her barrel, turned around, and braced her hooves under the arms of the cart.  They both started up at his nod, and she realized just how heavy her little wagon was.  Her blood pulsed with adrenaline every time she fell a bit behind, but after a few seconds she was keeping pace.  She was proud of herself until she realized that he was giving out, but still pushed himself on until they let it gently down on the grass of Rainbow Falls.

Her muscles were burning, but he was completely out of it.  He kept wincing and arching his back, flapping his wings around like they were tied down with a rope.  She was about to ask what was wrong with him when he calmed down and folded them to his sides.  He caught her stare and looked away.

"Cramping," was all he said, his ear twitching.

A mighty boom shook the ground, making them whirl to the airspace above the valley.  The airships were nearly to their destinaton, but the leading vessel was aflame, the second following at a dangerously close proximity.  They could see small flitting dots moving between them, and the stormclouds on either side of the second vessel were lashing out at its target with lightning.  The cargo ship's lift cable hitches were compromised, and two snapped away with sharp twangs.

The entire rig slowly fell, striking tents and carts nose-first as terrified screams bit into their ears.  The attacking ship lowered gently next to it, two ponies leaping off and into the other one.  Are these...? Blue wondered, his balance spread wide.

"Pirates," Jasmine seemed to finish.  There wasn't anything but intensity about her.  No anger, or even fear.  And to him, a similar demeanor came to his thoughts: unfogged, sharp, disdainful but certainly clear.

The Exchange is out.  Nothin's gonna get traded this year.

We're still gonna be broke.

We're still gonna lose the mill...

He tightened his jaw and calmly walked toward the hulking airship.  The Feuerwand, he saw, on a brass plate at the bow.  It's a nice name, he reasoned lamely, maybe they're nice ponies.  Holding his breath for luck to find its way to him, he crouched low and pumped his wings, landing heavily on the deck.  Two of the ponies managing the bow cannons heard him and whirled around.  They charged at him as he bowed low, realizing how badly this idea had turned out...

Until the two were stopped by a strong call.  "Gutter!  Shank!"

He swallowed gratefully, standing upright to look for the pony who'd spoken.  Walking towards them from the stern of the Feuerwand was a pale red unicorn mare.  Her mane, held back in a thin ponytail, matched her pelt but with lighter streaks, and her dark, blood-colored eyes matched the trenchcoat she wore.

On a side note, she has a nose piercing, he noticed.  He nearly jumped out of his skin when Jasmine landed lightly beside him, garnering more dark looks from the rest of the crew.

As the captain stopped in front of them, she said, "We've got maybe six minutes, then we have to bail, so..."  Blue swallowed again, feeling Jasmine's eyes boring into the back of his head.

"I need some money," he said tightly.

The mare watched the two of them for a second, then she grinned.  The smile turned into a lighthearted laugh, and she said, "You're gonna have to take that up with Cap', wherever the hay he went."

"Swordplay!" one of the ponies from the stern called.  The mare's expression turned serious, and she turned to them.

"What is it?"

"Two Solar rigs comin' 'round from th' Northwest, miss!"

She thought for a second, then called to the pilot at the wheel, "Don't take off 'til I say otherwise or Anchor Hoof is accounted for!"

Looking over her shoulder, Blue caught sight of two enormous vessels heading straight for them, Celestia's brand on their balloons.

"They're pressin' on fast, miss!  We've not got time!"  The mare growled under her breath, then addressed Gutter and Shank, who were back at their cannons.

"Do either of you see Cap?!"  Both of them looked over the downed cargo ship, but shook their heads with no results.  She gritted her teeth and looked back at the Solar defense ships, only a couple hundred yards away now.

"Miss, we've got to take lift!" the pilot yelled frantically.  The three ponies at the stern, a pegasus mare and stallion plus a unicorn mare, tensed up, ready to knock some heads.  The mare in charge took a breath, held it, and closed her eyes as she exhaled.

Snapping her gaze back to the tan mare at the wheel, she called, "Alright, move it!  Let's get this dirty filly in the air!"  A cannonball exploded from one of the defense ships and sailed over their heads, Blue knocking Jasmine to the deck and Swordplay quickly following suit.  The projectile soared safely away from the Feuerwand, disappearing violently beneath the surface of the lake inside the valley.  The pilot wrenched the controls with all her weight, the ship scraping across the tops of houses and shops as the rig put distance between itself and the ground.

Simultaneously deciding that escape is their best option, Blue pulled Jasmine to her hooves and the two leaped over the edge of the Feuerwand, spreading their wings and gaining distance from the ship.  A distant pop heralded the cartridge that shot through her wing and she roared, dropping several feet in altitude and unable to keep herself in the air.  Obie swept up and knocked the breath out of her, wrapping his forehooves around her barrel.  She growled in pain again and clenched her eyes shut, only opening her eyes when they had touched down again.

She laid on the deck of the Feuerwand, the pirates geared for violence.  The captain approached them again, the red mare brandishing a scabbard at her side and a pistol holstered against her breast.

"Back so soon?" she asked with a half-smile.  She nodded to Blue, her smirk dropping.  "Things're about to get nasty, mate."  Blood dripped from Jasmine's wing onto the deck, her legs shaking as she got back on her hooves.

"Then why the hay are we here?" she growled, her teeth grit against the pain as she shot a glare at Blue.  He shrank back, his eyes wide.

The red mare's horn lit up as her firearm spun out of its holster, cartridges and powder sweeping out from under her coat and finding their way inside the pistol.  "I suppose that's for you two to go over," she muttered, sliding her weapon back into its holster with a shik.  Looking off, she called roughly, "Whitey, you got a bullet wound to tend to!", and trotted over to the stern.

After giving the mare an incredulous look, Jasmine's wild eyes found a midsized white unicorn stallion with a long salt-and-pepper mane and a trimmed goatee stepping out from below deck.  He nodded for Jasmine to follow and disappeared again, but she remained still until Blue started forward.  As she grimaced and began to trot ahead, roars erupted from the stern as cannonballs sailed across the airspace into the Guardships.

The halls beneath the Feuerwand were narrow but well-lit, with a path leading both ways and the stallion disappearing into an archway to the right.  She remained a few steps behind him, with Ocean Blue behind her eying the speckled path of dripping blood.  Whitey led them into a small room with two endtables and one cot, with a large bottle of dark fluid on one table and a wooden case on the other.  A candle set into a small pocket in the wall sat half-melted, and light poured in from the open window.

He pat the uncomfortable-looking cot as a deafening BOOM! spoke of the immense discharge the ship's clouds put out.  More roars from the stern cannons rang out as Jasmine shakily laid on her stomach on the bed.  Whitey's gray aura enveloped the bottle and sent it over to her as he opened the box and took out a pair of iron tweezers and gauze.  She took the bottle and sniffed it, her eyes widening as she grimaced.

"Dark rum cider," the medic said in a refined accent, turning around and leaving his tools behind at the table.  "Drink up, quickly.  Lead's not a nice thing to keep in you."  Blue sat down in the hall as the mare looked at the bottle with subtle disgust.  She bit her lip, clenched her eyes shut and tossed her head back, managing a few swigs of the alcohol before putting the bottle down and growling at the hot sensation in her throat.

"A few more," Whitey said calmly, his horn lighting up and plucking a thin red ribbon and thin iron tools from one of the tables.  The ribbon wrapped around his mane and put itself into a simple knot, pulling it out of his eyes and letting his charcoal gaze scrutinize her wing.  She ignored his closeness and tried to drink more, but coughed when it touched her lips again.  Pain lanced up her side and she grunted, Whitey using his magic and some other prodding tool to part the bloody feathers.  "Attagirl, try again."

She took a breath and downed another mouthful, and one of the tools got into her wound.  She squealed and her wing jerked, but Whitey was already levitating the roll of gauze to her wing.  "So," he said brightly, his brows raising, "The cartridge went straight through and avoided bone, so there isn't any lead to poison you.  No shards or anything."  Her testy breathing and tight jaw kept him from applying the gauze yet, though blood still leaked onto the cot and floor.  The room smelled stale and metallic, now that she noticed it.

The medic said, "You can drink a pint more and maybe sleep for a bit, or I can get you a rag to bite onto and I can wrap your wing with only a tad of booze to keep you tidy."  She calmed down, shifted in the cot and tried to present her wing to him.  It unfolded pitifully and quickly snapped back to her side, her face contorting into another grimace.  Whitey brought the gauze close and chuckled.  "You sure are a fiesty one, aye?"

A rag swooped out from his box and twisted itself tightly in mid-air, presented near her muzzle before he brought the gauze any closer.  The state of the cloth had Jasmine giving him a 'really, do I have to?' look.  "I understand it's stained, but it's what we've got," he said kindly.  "Go on, bite down."  After a second longer, she hesitantly swallowed and took the rag between her teeth, keeping her tongue as far out of the way was possible.

The medic nearly began wrapping the wing on his own, but he realized that Blue was still there and looked over at him.  "You look pretty strong, mate.  D'you mind holding her still?"

Obie's eyes widened and his mouth opened as if he were going to protest, but he swallowed and stepped up to her.  Up close she was in

obvious pain, her breathing fast and her one visible eye watching him.  Her coat glistened with sweat and just provoked the awkward side of him that couldn't handle closeness, but he dryly swallowed again and gently lowered his weight until he securely held her barrel down.

Finally, Whitey began his work, the squeals and roars erupting into the hall mingling with cannonfire and the occasional crack of a firearm.