20 - No. 4468
"Another A4 sir?" Great Northern asked dryly as he rolled into his designer's workshop. His eyes stared at the newest engine, its smokebox door blank, its work livery dull and grey and the serial number 1870 on it.
In front of it sat one of the Silver A4s, ready to welcome its newest sibling into the world. He had hoped it was Silver Link, as usual, the boy was a pushover and didn't complain but to his annoyance, he saw that it was the bossy Quicksilver.
Quicksilver glared at her cousin angrily as he came to a stop beside her. She was quite sick of this engine constantly patronising and demeaning her and her siblings whatever chance he got.
"I must protest Great Northern being here sir," she snapped gazing down at Sir Gresley. "Especially not when he is constantly rude towards my siblings and me!"
"Great Northern is my confidant," Sir Gresley insisted. "He has overseen almost all of the new Pacific engines coming into sentience."
"That may be so but he has been nothing but nasty to my siblings," Quicksilver complained. "I do not wish him to be here!"
"Do not question or argue with our designer young girl," North said coldly to the younger engine. "It is unbecoming and distasteful. Much like the rest of you and your class."
"Really!" Quicksilver exclaimed offended and Sir Gresley frowned at Great Northern.
"I understand you do not like the A4s North but they are still my designs, they are my pride and joy just as your class was," he told North sternly. "To insult them is to insult me and my designs, do you understand?"
Great Northern looked at his buffers shamefully.
"Yes sir, I apologise, sir," he apologised.
"Good," Sir Gresley smiled. "I have a mind to have another engine replace you for this job if you constantly insist on antagonising the A4s. Don't think I haven't heard how you speak of them to other engines."
That made North go pale with worry and for Quicksilver to smirk at him.
"Why not have Scotsman replace North? He has achieved much more than North ever has. Flying Scotsman runs the Kings Cross Top Shed with Polly since Great Northen disgraced himself," she said snidely and North threw a glare at the silver engine. "He is a lot kinder and pleasant to new engines and people. Why have North when you could have the current leader of Kings Cross and not this has-been?"
Sir Gresley gave a soft sigh.
"I doubt I could convince the directors to pull Flying Scotsman away from his work," Sir Gresley mused. "As much as he didn't want that job at first he now fights for it tooth and nail."
"You have me to thank for setting the boy straight," North puffed but Sir Gresley glared at him.
"Gordon was the one who convinced 4472, not you," Sir Gresley said sternly. "I am disappointed that it wasn't you. You tried to claim his achievement as your own I recall."
"It's quite appalling sir," Quicksilver said and North hissed steam at her. "Why not work around Scotsman's schedule or put this idiot on instead? Find some workaround. Flying Scotsman is clearly your favourite sir. We all can see that. Why not give him your confidence sir?"
Great Northern shot a venomous glare at Quicksilver but Sir Gresley gave the Silver A4 a genuine smile.
"I adore Scotsman but he has a soft heart and he does not make for a stern and commanding leader," he explained. "He is too soft and too kind. Newly sentient engines required a strong role model to break them in, not coddle them and make them weak with emotion."
"Some would argue that such attributes make him more ideal sir," Quicksilver remarked and North huffed. "We are passenger engines, after all, we need to be pleasant and respectful to our passengers. Not be nasty and uptight like North here!"
"We run a railway Quicksilver, not a playschool for children," he scolded her. "Such attributes could be seen as a weakness by the other railways!"
"It still doesn't hurt to be nice every now and then, North," she snapped back at him. "Something you've never clearly done."
"Enough," Sir Gresley said and both engines immediately quieted down. "The other reason I do not allow Flying Scotsman to be my confidant is the sensitive nature of Gold Dust. Both of you are aware of the risks and mechanisms behind it, Scotsman is kind-hearted and passionate, he will not keep such things a secret for long. If he protests against the true nature of sentient engines he will cause trouble, he will advocate for the rights of engines and that is something that could get himself and his entire class scrapped if the directors so wished."
A deadly and uncomfortable silence hung in the air.
"I told you his soft-hearted nature was a problem," North snapped and Quicksilver just glared at him.
"That's enough, North," Sir Gresley said annoyed. "You've made your opinions quite clear. As I recall I told you to reign in some of 4472's more disobedient nature if I remember correctly."
North looked ashamed. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir. 4472 will not listen to me anymore sir. He has latched onto his sister's influence."
"Pretty Polly is a wonderful engine, sir," Quicksilver chimed in. "I am happy to have her take Silver Fox and Bittern under her care."
"Certainly," Sir Gresley agreed. "But she argues with the directors and is outspoken. The directors do not wish for any more engines like her. Therefore we will be limiting the amount of Gold Dust in future engines."
"But sir!" Quicksilver argued but their designer put his hand up.
"You are engines, you are made for a purpose, if you do not do that purpose and become a problem then the directors of the LNER will see fit to scrap you," He said bluntly. "Therefore these new A4s must be obedient and they will perform up to standard if not better. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir," both engines said. Quicksilver looked aghast and hurt. Great Northern's face was stoic.
"This new engine," Sir Gresley motioned towards the blank lifeless engine before them, "Is the first to have this reduced Gold Dust. It's design has been tested and refined to be faster than current A4 Pacific's. With it, we will be attempting to achieve the fastest steam record."
Quicksilver's previous hurt disappeared and she looked at the silent engine. It stared back at her with its lifeless smokebox.
"You're choosing one of us, sir?" She asked excitedly and Sir Gresley smiled.
"That's right. This one will be named Mallard," he said.
"That little moat outside your home certainly does inspire you, sir," Quicksilver remarked and Sir Gresley chuckled.
"Indeed it does."
He turned to Great Northern.
"Great Northern will coach this engine while it runs its tests. If it does not achieve its goal of breaking the speed record I will be extremely disappointed in you and will relegate you to goods work," Sir Gresley ordered Great Northern looked shocked.
"Goods work sir?" He thundered furiously while Quicksilver gave a soft laugh. "I am a premier express engine! I will refuse!"
"Then you will be scrapped and I will not allow your soul to be bound to another object!"
Great Northern went white in the face and completely silent. Even Quicksilver looked shocked at Sir Gresley's threat.
"Sir… that's a bit much don't you think sir?" She asked shakily. "North's certainly a bit of a nasty engine but that might be too far, to threaten to destroy his soul."
"Perhaps," Sir Gresley said. "But North has failed time and time again to keep my engines in check. I am giving him the last chance. Mallard will achieve his record under North's tutorage or he will become a goods engine and never pull another passenger service."
Great Northern looked distressed, but he then deflated and gave a resigned exhale.
"Yes sir, I will make sure Mallard achieves his record, sir, no matter the cost," he said, his tone defeated. Quicksilver looked concerned but was ignored.
"I am glad to hear that," their designer said. "I do not take pleasure making such threats, however sometimes they are necessary. The LNER has lost its edge, and the GWR and LMS's engines are threatening our position even after Flying Scotsman's record. That castle class made an embarrassment of Scotsman. We are starting to become complacent. We need to return to form, you understand that more than any, don't you North?"
"Yes sir, I do sir," North agreed. "Back when the Great Northern Railway found its end."
"I'm glad you understand North," Sir Gresley said before motioning towards the lifeless Mallard. "Now then, your new ward awaits."
He motioned for the men to start to process to bring Mallard sentience. Quicksilver was silent and unnerved. She glanced at North who sat there for a second, a look of regret and sadness on his face.
He caught Quicksilver looking at him and the emotions immediately washed away, replaced by a cold and stern, stoic look as he watched Mallard being lowered into the Golden Well.
Both engines said nothing, watching as the gold dust swarmed around the A4 Pacific.
As the new engine was lowered to the ground, its face appearing before them, Great Northern just felt an unexplainable dread overcome him.
He glanced at Quicksilver who did not react in the slightest.
He looked back at Mallard and just felt loathing.
His future was in the hands of one of these ugly toasters. If this engine did not perform then he would be even more of a laughing stock to the other express engines.
He frowned and bit back the urge to hurl insults at the new engine as Quicksilver rolled forward and spoke to the engine kindly trying to wake it up for the first time.
North just felt hatred and despair as the engine opened its eyes and gazed around confused.
"You must be the new A4, hello," Mallard gave a startled jolt as he heard the voice of another engine. He looked over and saw a green A3 pacific with a kind face, round eyes and a long nose.
She smiled at him sweetly.
"I'm Pretty Polly," she introduced herself. "You must be Mallard, welcome to the mainline."
"Thank you," Mallard smiled back at her. He was still a bit shy but this engine seemed very lovely and kind. "I'm here to be mainline certified."
"Oh you'll pass with flying colours," Polly assured him. "You look strong. Clean and newly polished too, what a sight you are."
Mallard puffed himself up slightly.
"That I am Ms Polly!" The young engine said excitedly.
"I hear that you're going to try and set the world record for steam locomotives too!" She praised and Mallard grinned at her. "My, and only a few months old!"
"I'm not going to try Pretty Polly," Mallard said smugly. "I AM going to set that record."
Pretty Polly beamed at him pleased.
"You have a lot of us old workhorses cheering for you!" She assured him. "Even Flying Scotsman himself wants you to beat him!"
Mallard looked puzzled.
"I thought the Flying Scotsman was a train?" He asked confused and Polly chuckled.
"Oh no dear, not the train, the engine! He's the first engine to go 100mph!" Polly explained with a laugh. "No matter what those stuck-up Great Westerns think, our Scott has them officially beat."
Mallard frowned. Why hadn't Great Northern mentioned the previous record holder to him? Surely that would've been important to know.
"I could ask Flying Scotsman to give you advice if you like, he'd be happy to help I'm sure!"
"I don't know, Great Northern is very strict on my timetable," Mallard admitted. "I doubt I could find time to see him. I'm not supposed to be talking to other engines either."
Pretty Polly scowled.
"That ridiculous old boiler! Still trying to enforce his old ways on others!" She huffed. "Still, I'll let Flying Scotsman know and he'll try to find you to give you a few tips."
The young engine smiled. He'd only been awake for a few weeks and he hadn't been allowed to talk to the other engines. Great Northern had sheltered him and kept him from everyone else.
It wasn't until he was sent to be tested on the mainline that he could talk to engines other than Great Northern, Quicksilver or Silver Link. Sir Gresley himself was insanely hard on him. He barely had time to figure out who he was yet.
He quite liked Pretty Polly. She was like Quicksilver, kind and encouraging to him, however, Polly seemed older, hardened and firey.
"Here are your coaches Ms Polly!" The station pilot called to Polly as her coaches gently bumped into her.
"Thank you Peony dear! You do a wonderful service my darling!" She called and the pilot gave a happy whistle in reply.
"You talk to the shunters?" Mallard asked, surprised. "I thought we weren't supposed to talk to the shunters?"
The two elder silvers and North did not care for shunters. They were servants. They did not speak and they brought coaches without fuss, that was all. If they spoke, they would be punished.
"Of course!" Polly said. "Without them, the railway wouldn't run on time! And we all sleep under the big shed, it's better to get along with everyone so close to each other."
Mallard had never considered that. He was about to reply when he heard Great Northern pull up behind him.
"Mallard!" North's voice snapped at him. "Do not talk to the other engines while you're working!"
"Yes sir, I apologise sir!" Mallard seemed to shrink under the orders of North.
North glared at the young engine before looking at Polly.
"You," he hissed steam at her. "Go away and stop putting your poisonous ideas into this engine's smokebox!"
"Poisonous ideas?" Polly scoffed. "You mean being a pleasant and social person? Something you certainly wouldn't know about!"
"Be off with you!" North barked at her. "You and my old ward bring shame to the LNER with your complacent attitude!"
Polly just humphed at him. Her guard's whistle blew signally her to depart
"You're just jealous that Flying Scotsman no longer needs the likes of you," she huffed. "Or maybe you're jealous of the fact that he never ever needed you in the first place!"
Pretty Polly said nothing more except a kind parting word to Mallard before pulling away with the Flying Scotsman Express in tow.
"You're not to talk to Polly or the other Top Shed engines Mallard, do you understand?"
"Yes sir but why-"
"Do not question me!" North snapped and Mallard looked down at his buffers shamefully.
"I'm sorry sir," he muttered.
"You are here to be mainline certified, not talk to other engines. Do not speak to another engine unless I say so," North scolded. "It is not proper."
"Yes sir, sorry sir," Mallard mumbled. Great Northern looked furious. He didn't like it when Great Northern was furious, it was like upsetting Sir Gresley himself.
"You are to complete your trials and return to the workshop immediately, do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Mallard said quietly.
"If I hear of you talking to any other engines on your trial I will be very angry," North warned and Mallard wanted to shrink away from the imposing engine. "Go on, get out of my sight. Pass the trial or else you will disappoint me."
"Yes sir," Mallard said before releasing his excess steam and turning his wheels slowly and departing from King's Cross, Great Northern watching him with a surly look on his face.
Mallard didn't know what he had done to upset or anger Great Northern, but for some reason the A3 Pacific was always angry and harsh with him. Never once giving him encouragement or even a job or a well done!
Silver King and Quicksilver were at the very least somewhat supportive of him, always saying they were proud to have him as a little brother, but their praise was seldom heard as they often had trains to pull and he was left with North to tutor him.
The lack of praise only meant he had to strive harder and harder, Mallard mused as he picked up speed. He would gain Great Northern's approval, he would make the engine proud.
Up ahead he saw Pretty Polly and the Flying Scotsman express ahead and smiled to himself.
He caught up to her and her train in practically no time at all, his driver stunned at the shear speed he had. The passengers stared out the window at him, the sight of a A4 gathering it's speed must have been impressive to them as they stared in awe.
"Well I never!" His driver crowed. "You far out shine your siblings young Mallard! Sir Nigel's betting on the right horse with you!"
Mallard felt his ego swell and a confident grin spread across his face as he pressed forward, eager to over take Polly and the Flying Scotsman.
Polly looked over and saw him moving to pass her with tremendous speed.
"Look at you! Speed demon!" She hollered playfully and gave him an excited whistle. He replied with an equally excited whistle and grinned at her.
"Too fast for an old horse like you!" He teased and Polly laughed at him.
"Quite so, quite so!" She laughed in good humour and he pulled away from her still gaining speed.
"Amazing, simply amazing!" His driver praised and Mallard went to press on but he was stopped by a tight grip on his regulator. "Steady now, we're here to get you certified to pull trains, not break a record now."
"But I was built for this!" Mallard complained but the driver did not open up his regulator again.
"Yes you are dear fellow but not right now," his driver chided. "Let's pass your trails and impress the old man later."
Mallard relented.
"Alright," he agreed. "But I want to open my regulator to full, I want to show the world what I can do."
"Oh you can count on it with how you're performing blue bird," the fireman chuckled. "I can barely keep up with you."
Mallard grinned and allowed himself to slow. Polly wasn't catching up to him at all which was good. It meant that he'd gotten a good distance between them. His crew was in high spirits and he felt truly himself for the first time since he had awoken.
He was meant for the rails, to go fast. He could feel it in every rivet, every bolt and every pin.
He felt free.
He truly was the fastest Steam Engine in the world.
When he got back to the workshop he found Quicksilver, Great Northern and Sir Gresley waiting for him.
"Polly said she saw you! You were amazing!" Quicksilver praised her younger brother. "She said you put the rest of us to shame! I'm so proud of you little brother!"
Mallard blushed a deep red at his big sisters praise.
"It was only a trial, my driver didn't even let me approach my limit," he mumbled. "I can go much faster sir, I just know it."
Sir Gresley clapped his hands together pleased.
"I know you can Mallard, I certainly do!" he was grinning from ear to ear with pride. "Well done! Well done indeed! The results from the dynamo car are very promising!"
Mallard grinned happily however it faded slightly when he saw Great Northern's face.
He just stared at him blankly, no pride, no joy at him his success, just a stoic face with no emotion.
He felt a feeling of disappointment grow in his boiler.
Why wasn't Great Northern proud of him? He'd succeeded, he proven himself worthy of pulling expresses and proven that he could achieve the record. Everyone was praising him, he was the fastest steam locomotive in the world, he just had to prove it.
So why wasn't North proud of him?
He heard Sir Gresley excitedly discussing his plans with the other engineers under his instruction but Mallard just looked to North who avoided his gaze and looked disgruntled and annoyed with him.
Mallard didn't understand, what had he done wrong?
Quicksilver engaged him with idle chat for a while until both she and Great Northern were shooed out of the workshop so the engineers could inspect him, all of them curious and puzzled as to what was giving him the edge over his siblings.
The humans excitedly buzzed around him well after the work day had ended, proud of their new engine, praising him and marvelling at him, confident that he could be their world record holder.
Eventually they left and allowed him to sleep in the workshop.
Mallard was happy. He liked being fawned over and constantly praised by his designer and his underlings. It pleased him that he'd impressed the engineers enough that they were confident to approach the directors and be granted permission for a record run.
A dark cloud hung over him however.
Why did Great Northern do nothing but berate and talk down to him even after he pleased their designer?
He just didn't understand it.
Maybe he had to beat the record to finally gain North's approval and pride.
Yes, that had to be it.
He was settling down to sleep when he was disturbed by the workshop doors opening and the silhouette of an A3 Pacific appeared before him.
He found himself wide awake.
"Great Northern?" He asked excitedly but his smile faded slightly when he saw that it was a different engine. "Oh, you're not Great Northern."
The engine chuckled and gave him a friendly whistle. "Afraid not, I'm the Flying Scotsman!"
Mallard looked at the engine curiously.
He looked like a younger version of North except the lines of his face were rounder, more friendly looking. The A3 Pacific smiled at him.
"Pretty Polly told me about you today! She was telling everyone at the sheds how impressive you are!" The Flying Scotsman exclaimed. "She said I might be able to help give you some tips for when you try to break that record."
"Oh um, yes, she did mention that," Mallard said unsure of how to respond.
This Flying Scotsman was friendly and warm, much like Polly and his sister and so unlike Great Northern. It was weird, seeing an engine look so similar to North being nice to him. He didn't know if he liked it or not.
"Would you like some help or am I intruding too much?" The Flying Scotsman asked. "I know that Sir Gresley can be a very demanding man, especially for a new engine such as yourself."
"I think I'll be fine honestly," Mallard admitted. "When my regulator was opened up for the first time today, I felt… I felt alive, I felt like my true self."
The Scotsman chuckled. "It's a grand feeling isn't it?"
Mallard smiled excited as he remembered the feeling.
"I want to be on the rails everyday, I want my firebox to blaze like a wildfire and I want the steam to rush through my tubes! I never want to be taken off of the rails every!" Mallard declared proudly. "I would so hate to be stuck in the sheds. I need to be on the track, you know?"
Scotsman smiled at the young engine. He knew that feeling too well.
"Oh I know, young Mallard. It's wonderful to run at your full potential," He chuckled. "But going 100mph is a very different experience. It hurts every bolt and every piston. Your wheels will burn, the rails will scream at you and it feels like you're about to lose control at any minute. If you're not prepared for it, you could damage yourself and you could hurt your crew or your passengers. Fatally even. If you crash at such speeds, there will be little left of you and you won't be saved."
Mallard huffed. "I'm the fastest Steam Locomotive in the world, I doubt going at speed would damage me, it is what I was built for."
The Scotsman frowned at him.
"Arrogance will only get you so far, young iron," he warned but Mallard glared at him.
"You're just frightened that I'm going to beat you," he accused and Scotsman gave a sigh.
"On the contrary, I hope you beat it. It'll give our rivals something to talk about," Scotsman smirked. "Once again the LNER shows up the other railways for how useless they are. I'm getting really tired of the LMS engine coming up to me and constantly reminding me that one of their boys reached 114mph. Reclaim that title for us please, I'd like to have something to shove in their faces."
Mallard frowned but said nothing. Sir Gresley did say that he wanted to keep it in the railway, particularly his designs.
Perhaps the elder engine was being genuine.
"I'll take your advice into consideration, Flying Scotsman," he admitted at the A3 Pacific grinned at him.
"Wonderful! If you have any other questions I'd be happy to help you," he offered.
Mallard gazed at the ground for a while before looking back up at the Scotsman who sat before him patiently. He remembered the sinking feeling he got when he saw North just sitting there emotionless while everyone praised him.
North had been the one to push him, to coach him and to train him up for his trials.
Yet he felt that he had disappointed him.
He looked at the Flying Scotsman.
"Um, do you know Great Northern?" He asked and the smile instantly disappeared from Scotsman's face and he began scowling.
"Unfortunately I do," he said in a low growl.
"Do you think that um, do you think that I'll be able to impress him? He never seems happy with anything I do despite the fact I try so hard for him," Mallard admitted honestly. "I want to impress him, more than anyone else."
The Flying Scotsman stared at the young Mallard for a long moment before giving a long drawn out sigh.
"I'm just going to be brutally honest with you Mallard," he said bluntly. "You're never going to impress Great Northern."
Mallard frowned.
"You don't know that," he retorted irritated.
"Yes I do, he put me through hell, he did nothing to belittle me and constantly demeaned me. When I achieved my record, it still wasn't enough," Scotsman explained. "He is stuck in the ways of a long dead railway. Things are changing and he and Sir Gresley refuse to see that."
"I am not like you," Mallard insisted. "I am faster, stronger and more powerful. I WILL impress him."
The Scotsman just gave a sad sigh of regret.
"Take it from me, Mallard, I know North, he won't ever change and he won't ever be impressed," Scotsman said bitterly. "Just focus on impressing Sir Gresley. He's the only opinion you should care about. North is just another engine, no matter how much he wants to believe he is equal to our designer, he is not."
"Shut up," Mallard snapped and Scotsman raised an eyebrow at him. "North was never impressed with you because lacked my power, my strength!"
"Don't be conceited young iron-"
"Don't call me young iron! I might be young but I'm the strongest and fastest engine ever produced!" Mallard shouted at Scotsman. "You were just a disappointment! I will impress North unlike you!"
"Mallard please listen to me, Great Northern is not a good influence on you-"
"No! You just came here to stop me from achieving my record so North wouldn't praise me!"
The Scotsman looked shocked at Mallard's outburst. Just what was North doing to the poor engine to make him so desperate to please him?
"I did no such thing, I came at the request of my sister, Polly!" The Scotsman tried to defend himself. "I want to help you! Please listen to me!"
"You're just trying to sabotage me!" Mallard was refusing to listen now.
The Flying Scotsman gazed at Mallard sadly. The young engine seemed very distraught, not understanding why North was being so nasty to him and it was driving him crazy just to try and please him.
"I'm sorry Mallard," the Scotsman apologised to him. "I'll talk to North, try to get him to understand but I doubt it will work. You're a grand engine, clearly something that Sir Gresley is proud of, but please don't go chasing for North's approval. You will never receive it."
Mallard just frowned at him, his mind clearly made up.
This was not how he had wanted to meet his cousin.
"I will impress him, Flying Scotsman," Mallard snapped. "I'm better than you will ever be."
Scotsman wasn't angry, he was just sad.
He began to leave, his pistons hissing quietly.
"I'm sorry," Scotsman said quietly. "I truly am Mallard. I wish you the best and I hope you beat that record with no problem."
"I will," Mallard huffed and closed his eyes, making it clear that this conversation was over.
Scotsman backed out of the workshop and the instant the doors were closed he turned to his crew.
"I don't wish to be a bother, but could we detour and find Great Northern?" He asked them.
Great Northern was startled awake by Flying Scotsman's loud and harsh whistle sounding right beside his smokebox. His younger brother looked more furious than North had ever seen him.
"I want a word with you!" Scotsman snapped angrily.
North just looked at his younger brother with a grumpy and annoyed expression.
"What do you want 4472?" He asked, irritated.
"I see you're not treating the new engine any better than you treated me, North," Scotsman hissed at him. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have no common decency?"
"I have the interests of the LNER in mind unlike you 4472," North scowled. "This new engine will not be weak like you."
"I am not weak," the Flying Scotsman snapped. "Showing emotion is not a weakness!"
"You are unrefined, childish, immature and you do not take the concerns of the LNER seriously!" North shouted back at Scotsman.
"Mallard is going to hurt himself! He's so desperate to prove himself to you that he won't listen to reason!" Scotsman snapped. "Even Sir Gresley wouldn't push an engine this hard!"
"Then you clearly don't know Sir Gresley," North scowled.
"Just for crying out loud, please lay off Mallard," Scotsman pleaded. "He's having a hard enough time trying to break a record, let alone having to please you! So just back off and show the kid some encouragement would you?"
"You have no business telling me how to arrange my affairs, you waste of iron!" North snapped and the Scotsman looked truly hurt.
"I am not a waste of iron," Scotsman asserted although he could not completely hide the hurt in his voice. "I am the Flying Scotsman!"
"A mere footnote in history," North said coldly. "One record is nothing. Records are made to be broken."
Scotsman glared at North angrily.
"Maybe so, but at least I am loved and have friends," he said. "Unlike you, who will die alone and be scrapped."
"The LNER wouldn't dare, not me," North said proudly. "They wouldn't lay a finger on me."
The Scotsman glared at North. He looked away.
"I am ashamed to call you my brother," he spat coldly. "I hope that Mallard will realise just how awful you are before it's too late."
North just huffed and ignored 4472.
"Even if you get preserved for being the first of us, I hope you die alone, cold and abandoned," Scotsman said coldly surprising himself with just how nasty he was being.
If Great Northern was hurt, he didn't show it at all. He simply stared at 4472 with an unflinching gaze.
"Get out of my sight," North said quietly. "Go and cry to Ms Polly like you used to with Gordon, child."
Scotsman hissed steam at North in response.
"I honestly don't see how Sir Gresley puts up with you anymore,' Scotsman snarled before pulling away from North. "I stopped Polly from letting the other engines harass you but I think I'm honestly done putting up with you."
The Scotsman didn't smile as he backed away from North, ready to leave.
"I don't think you'll find the LNER a nice place for you anymore North," Flying Scotsman warned. "I'm done protecting you. I think you'll find what remaining sympathy I had for you was the only thing from keeping the other engines at bay."
With that the Scotsman left without another word or look at Great North.
North did not take the threats of Scotsman seriously but he would regret not doing so. Usually his threats we jokes or him being a pest to other engines, they was often no real malice behind him.
The next day there was a decide uptake in shunters being rude to him, the other A3's mocking his age and the A4's often calling him slow, old and unreliable.
The days after that, they had become relentless.
Great Northern refused to admit it but Scotsman's kindness was most probably the only thing that had kept the engines of the Top Shed from being horrendously nasty to him. With that gone, now the other engines bombarded him with an onslaught of insults and harassment.
The Flying Scotsman was the public image of the LNER after all. What he said went and Pretty Polly was in a similar situation. The two had a say in the directors of the railways plans at Gresley's request.
It was ludicrous.
North had clearly severed all good ties with any other engine but it didn't matter.
Right now all that mattered was serving Gresley, in the hopes that his soul would be saved and bound safely to something else.
He need to push Mallard, he needed the engine to suceed, no matter the cost.
He'd push away any engine that got in his way if he had to.
He had no need for friends.
"Why is Flying Scotsman here?" Mallard asked Sir Gresley as he noticed the engine pulling up to the station beside him.
"Because today is a momentous day dear cousin!" Scotsman said cheerfully.
Mallard raised an eyebrow at the green engine but then looked back at Sir Gresley.
"Indeed it is," he said. "Today I am authorising my specially picked team to attempt to beat the German Speed Record of 124.5mph. You are the engine that will perform the attempt."
Mallard blushed a deep red and looked extremely determined.
"Yes sir!" He said confidently. "I'll make you proud sir!"
This was his moment, his triumph, his chance to make Great Northern proud of him.
"This is Joe, he is a very experienced driver and this is the fireman Thomas," Sir Gresley introduced his crew to him. "Work with them, do everything you can to break the speed record, do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Mallard sang out. "I'll do my very best and if that's not enough, I'll put my very soul into breaking the record sir!"
Sir Gresley smiled. "Try your very best Mallard."
Mallard smiled and his attention turned to Flying Scotsman who was giving him an encouraging smile. He looked proud and happy for him which Mallard refused to admit made him happy. It made him happy that Flying Scotsman at least was encouraging.
He gave his cousin a warm smile.
"You'll do fine Mallard," Flying Scotsman enthusiastically assured him. "You're a Gresley, one of the finest locomotive designs in the world. Show the world what you were designed to do!"
Mallard grinned widely. Despite their initial awkward meeting, he could genuinely see himself being the elder engine's friend.
He was about to reply when he suddenly saw Great Northern watching some distance away, glaring menacingly and with a look of complete disapproval.
He wasn't supposed to talk to the other engines. And especially not Flying Scotsman.
He looked away from Flying Scotsman and ignored the other engine concentrating on Sir Gresley and his crew explaining the details of the attempt.
Flying Scotsman stared at Mallard, confused at his sudden change in behaviour but then saw Great Northern giving Mallard that nastiest look he had ever seen.
The anger boiled up in his boiler.
Mallard was still clearly desperate to please North despite Scotsman's warning. He sighed and looked away.
Nothing good would come of this even if Mallard's attempt was successful, he just knew it.
On any other day, Olivia would have marvelled at the performance and well-kept nature of Sir Nigel Gresley the A4 Pacific. This engine was remarkably smooth and responded so actively to every lever pull, and every touch on the regulator.
Bittern was similar to drive however there was something more stately and almost regal about Sir Nigel. His presence felt different to the other A4s, like he carried himself with purpose. Bittern carried himself with a blazing and furious will to succeed and go fast.
It almost made her forget about the current situation at hand.
"A remarkable engine isn't he my Lady?" Sir Nigel's fireman, Philip asked. "Not quite like the others."
Olivia gave a half smile of approval as she watched the tracks ahead, the countryside passing at tremendous speed.
She was about to reply when it felt like something hit her and a furious heat like being engulfed in flames suddenly swept over her causing her to abandon her post.
"What's going on?" Sir Nigel called back as he suddenly felt his regulator close without good reason and he immediately lost his good head of steam his pistons struggling to pump and his wheels slipping out of sync. "Lady Olivia?"
Phillip immediately checked over Olivia who was sitting at the engineers post, her entire body slack and motionless.
With difficulty he pulled Sir Nigel into the nearest siding and shut off the engine as best he could.
"Ms Olivia," Phillip checked over the woman gently, supporting her carefully as he tried to pull her out of her slumped position at the engine's controls.
"Is she okay?" Sir Nigel called concerned.
"I don't know, I'm going to call for help," He said as he dug in his pocket for his phone while having an arm around to support Olivia.
He froze and stared shocked when he saw Olivia's face.
Her eyes were open and glowing with gold dust like she was in some kind of strange trance.
I had to rewrite this many times, I don't know why but writing Mallard's memories was hard for some reason.
It makes me sad knowing Mallard and Flying Scotsman would have had at worst a friendly rivalry, or at best been genuinely good friends had Great Northern not been so controlling and demeaning to Mallard.
~For updates, extra lore or to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tumblr at tornadoyoungiron or on twitter as BakunawaArt.