2 - The Flying Arrow
Terror gripped City of Truro's boiler as Mallard loomed over him, the malicious A4 leered over him, and thick black smoke gathered around the blue engine like a carnivore stalking its prey.
Mallard laughed as the Black smoke crawled over Truro's boiler, wrapped around his funnel and gripped him tight as it tried to rip his soul out of his engine.
Truro struggled desperately but the more he struggled, the tighter the black smoke gripped and tried to drag him down into a void where nothing but pain existed.
He needed Scotsman. He needed something to ground him.
"Scott ble wyt ti?!" He called out desperately, his eyes darting around looking for the famous green engine.
He was nowhere to be found, only the darkness pressing from all sides, suffocating his fire making him feel small and helpless all while Mallard's laughter echoed all around him.
"Stopiwch fe! Gad lonydd i mi!" Truro cried out in pain and fear. "Rydych chi wedi marw! Dych chi ddim yn go iawn!"
He felt the black smoke tighten its grip on his boiler and he gave a helpless sob, feeling completely and utterly alone.
It felt like an eternity of torment, floating in an endless dark void, his firebox feeling like it had been frozen until he felt the warmth of a hand on his buffer beam. The person who was touching him had a certain degree of Gold Dust, he realised with relief.
He desperately clung to the warm feeling, holding onto it for dear life.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt himself return to reality, sounds of the workshop around him slowly came into his senses and the smell of oil, coal and steam was almost heavenly to him.
His strength was still gone and he felt ill but he was alive, he was safe, Mallard was gone and he was no longer his hostage.
Wearily, the elder Great Western opened his eyes and found himself in the private berths at Ulfstead Castle.
He cast his eyes around and saw no other engines. Part of him was expecting to see Flying Scotsman but his partner was a long way away on the mainland, touring for his 100th Birthday. He didn't hide his disappointment as he cast his eyes down to whoever had broken him free of his nightmare.
Before him, a short man with red hair and a moustache and a beard in a three-piece suit stood, his hand still on Truro's buffer. Truro had never met this man before, but he did have a fairly good idea of who this man was. The man was leaning heavily on a cane, his leg seemingly crippled from a new injury that he had received.
"Great Northern?" Truro asked the man and the man gave him a grunt of affirmation and a nod.
"That's right," North responded. "Scotsman told you what I looked like?"
"No, no," Truro began to forget his nightmare and calm down, simply happy that someone was here with him to help him stave off his separation anxiety. "Your soul feels very similar to his, I made a calculated guess and assumed it was you."
North nodded at him. "Your guess paid off."
Truro gave North a small smile.
"Thank you for bringing me back, these nightmares have… not been pleasant," Truro chose his words carefully. He knew that Great Northern held a lot of grief for what had happened and how Mallard had turned into the monstrous engine he had become.
North nodded at him.
"You were in distress, I came to assist," he explained. "It's what my brother would have wanted. He would not like to see you in distress."
Truro gazed down at him.
"Well I thank you, Great Northern," Truro said with a smile. "I know you and your brother do not have the best relationship so I am glad you are trying to make amends."
North removed his hand from Truro and nodded at him. He looked like he wanted to leave but was staying to make sure that Truro was okay.
"Will you be alright?" North asked the famous Great Western. There was worry in his eyes as he stared up at the huge engine.
"I-," Truro paused, unsure how to answer. He knew that if North left, there was every chance his anxiety and nightmares would return. But it was clear that North was uncomfortable and Truro didn't want to keep him any longer.
"I'll be fine," Truro tried to assure North but the man didn't look convinced at all as he raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I might not have the best record when it comes to dealing with other engines, but I have grown to learn the telltale signs of someone in distress Great Western."
Truro gave a soft snort and smiled at North.
"Scotsman has always been able to tell if I am lying to him," Truro chuckled softly. "Or perhaps I am just bad at lying."
"You just seem very distressed," North pointed out. "I cannot in good conscience leave you alone."
Truro seemed to relax.
"Thank you Great Northern," Truro thanked the man who held an engine's soul. "I am grateful to you. I think Scotsman was right to give you a second chance."
North shook his head and turned away from Truro.
"I do not agree with you," North muttered. "I did terrible things in my past. Mallard only turned out as terrible as he did because I pushed him too far."
"Yet you recognise your mistake and try to rectify it," Truro pointed out. "That is very admirable of you Great Northern."
North seemed to appreciate his word but shook his head. "It doesn't make up for what has happened."
"Perhaps not," Truro mused. "But you clearly regret what has happened, most who make such mistakes do not even recognise their misdeeds let alone feel regret."
North stared at Truro for a while before nodding to him.
"I see why the other Great Westerns look up to you so highly," North observed. "You are very level-headed, wise and firm."
Truro chuckled. "Not all of them I'm afraid, there are many who do not like me and wish to see me gone. And I'm afraid that I have little to no influence over the new young iron. Perhaps I am being to stern, or not enough?"
"New young iron?" North asked, confused. He wasn't aware that there was a new Great Western engine that had been built.
"New, but not exactly new," Truro explained. "A new engine built from the boiler and frames of a dead one."
Great Northern looked appalled and he looked ready to protest but held his tongue. A new engine built on the corpse of another? It was absurd. It was disgraceful.
"Not a lot of others like the concept of it either," Truro agreed seeing the distaste on North's face. "But it was the last wish of Maindy Hall and our customs demand that it be respected,"
North said nothing. He did not want to speak out of turn, especially to the leader of the Great Westerns. Especially to his brother's partner.
Truro noticed Great Northern's silence and sighed.
"At a personal level, I do not approve of it either," he clarified. "But we must uphold Maindy's wish. She wanted to give the Saint Class another chance, to be saved from extinction and now, she has."
"Perhaps that is why you are having problems with her," North pointed out. "Two souls inhabiting the same engine, without being designed for it could lead to trouble."
Truro stared at North. His thoughts suddenly wandered to something that Flying Scotsman had mentioned before he had left.
Scotsman had noticed two souls in Tydfil. One that was her own Golden Soul that was undoubtedly her own. The other is a faint silvery soul that appeared like quicksilver and spider silk. Truro had never seen or heard of such a thing before and had suggested that Scotsman may have misinterpreted it for something else.
Scotsman had been very certain of what he had seen though.
He looked back at North who was staring at him expectantly.
"To be honest, I'm honestly not sure about Lady of Legend," Truro admitted honestly. "I've never had as many problems as I have with her. It could be I'm just too old to relate to the younger engines anymore. Tornado was also troublesome but not to this extent. Tydfil does not even listen to me!"
Truro sighed and looked away from North, embarassed at suddenly shouting.
"I apologise for raising my voice, this is not like me," Truro muttered. "I usually vent such complaints to Green Arrow but he is not here."
North simply shrugged.
"I honestly do not mind," he replied. "At least you can voice complaints to others. I assume Green Arrow has complained a lot about me over the years. If not him then my brothers."
Truro gave North a small smile.
"They have. But I prefer to judge someone in person. You remind me of a grumpier version of your brother, no offense," he remarked and North looked up at the City class surprised.
"Really? I did not think I bore any resemble Scotsman," North admitted.
Truro gave a soft chuckle.
"You are a strange mix of Gordon and Scotsman if I am completely honest."
Great Northern now gazed at Truro intrigued.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"Huh," North looked thoughtfully at Truro before shifting his weight off of his injured leg. "Something to think about I guess."
"Indeed," Truro agreed.
I'm worried about you, little Tydfil…
Again the female voice came, echoing through Tydfil's smokebox and startling her awake.
"Stop it!" She shouted annoyed and tried to shake herself to be rid of said voice. "Leave me alone!"
"Tydfil what's wrong?" Ryan asked as he worked to make his next train. The young Great Western had been hiding in one end of the yard in an attempt to not pull a goods train to the Little Western for Duck.
She didn't want to see the little Pannier Tank. All he would do is criticise her and ramble at her about the ways of the great western railway and how it used to be. She was sick of it.
"Nothing!" She hissed at Ryan. "Shut up! They'll find me!"
"Ms Tydfil this isn't a good idea, you can't keep doing this," Ryan pleaded with his friend. "Remember what Mr Truro said? If you don't do your tasks you'll be transferred away from our line and me and Daisy want you to stay-"
"Ryan! Would you-"
"Lady of Legend!" The Fat Controller's angry voice suddenly echoed across the yard and Tydfil's face went pale as a sheet.
"Oh no!"
The short man found the young engine behind some trucks which giggled at her misfortune.
"Oh no is quite right young lady!" Sir Topham Hatt snapped sternly at the two assistants. "I have heard nothing but complaints about you being late and insulting the other engines. Now I find you here hiding from your crew instead of doing your job!"
"But sir, I'm supposed to pull coaches!" Tydfil complained. "I don't want to pull trucks anymore! I'm a high class engine!"
"Silence!" The Fat Controller barked angrily at her. "I have told you many times before that no engine is too good to pull cargo or freight. Many times you have not listened to me or City of Truro!"
Tydfil pouted grumpily. "I never pulled trucks on Didcot! I want to go back!"
"Unfortunately Didcot will not take you back until you improve your attitude young lady," Sir Topham explained frustrated. "You are to work here until you learn how to be a proper engine."
"I am a proper engine!" Tydfil shouted at him.
"Tydfil, please! You aren't helping yourself!" Ryan begged his friend. He really did adore Tydfil. She was a good engine, she just lacked… something. He wasn't quite sure what it was but there was something off about her.
Sir Topham pressed his hand to the crease in his brow and sighed.
"I didn't want to separate you from your friends Tydfil, but maybe it's best if you worked on another part of the railway," he tiredly suggested and immediately Lady of Legend began pleading.
"No wait, I'll behave! I'll take the trucks to Duck right now sir!" She begged but Sir Topham shook his head and stared at her sternly.
"I have given you many chances Tydfil, City of Truro has also given you many chances. Yet we find your jobs not done, or you have started arguments with other engines," he declared. "Enough is enough. I am sending you to Edward's branch line where you will work with him and the other engines in the Claypits."
"The Claypits?!" Lady of Legend shrieked. "I will NOT work in those filthy clay mines!"
"Then you can be locked in a shed until you are ready to come out," Sir Topham snapped angrily. "You are not above anyone else on this island. I don't expect you to get along with everyone but I do expect you to do your part. Didcot wants you to do your part. But we cannot allow you to continuously disrupt others or overwork them with doing your jobs!"
Tydfil stared at her buffers upset. She didn't want to be locked in a shed. Being locked in a shed was worse than pulling trucks.
"Okay," she finally muttered quietly.
Sir Topham nodded to her.
"If you complete your work well with Edward, you may come back to Harwick with Ryan, but only if you work well and continue to do so," he explained firmly.
"Yes sir," she said defeated.
"Good, now head straight to the Claypits, Edward will meet you there," the Fat Controller ordered.
"Yes sir," Tydfil mumbled, trying not to cry.
Her crew quickly took hold of her and moved her forward, slowly and steadily. All the while, Tydfil just stared at her buffers, upset and trying not to cry.
"Good luck Ms Tydfil!" She heard Ryan call to her but she ignored him.
She travelled in silence, only stopping for water and coal on the way there. Not once did she speak to her crew, only brewed herself into a silent fury.
Why was she being treated like this?
Why couldn't the Twin Kings take her back to Didcot? She missed them, she missed Pendennis. She even missed that annoying little saddle tank and his funny accent.
She wanted to go home!
She wanted to hang out with Ryan and Daisy.
It wasn't fair!
'It's okay sweetheart….' Again, a ghostly voice spoke in her smokebox and Tydfil shuddered to a sudden halt, scaring her crew.
"Stop it!" She suddenly screamed. "Stop tormenting me!"
"Tydfil what's wrong?" Her driver, Victoria, asked deeply concerned. "What is it?!"
"The voice won't leave me alone!" She shrieked. "The voice inside my smokebox."
"Voice inside your smokebox?" Victoria repeated confused but the fireman Neil shook her shoulder desperately.
"We need to move! We've stopped on a major goods and passenger route!" He shouted. "Tydfil we can't stop here!"
"Tydfil we can work this out later, right now we need to move!" Victoria assured the young engine and tried to release her brakes but they refused to budge, Tydfil refusing to release them. "Tydfil please!"
"No! Not until the voice goes away!" Tydfil declared stubbornly.
"Tydfil if an engine crashes into the back of you, you could be damaged to the point of being scrapped!" Neil shouted at her.
Tydfil ignored him and sat on the rails, jamming her brakes on, quivering from the voice that had spoken to her.
iSweetheart you need to move!/i
Again the voice spoke and again Tydfil screamed and shouted at it to go away. Realising it was a lost cause to try and move her, her crew now desperately tried to call the signalman to stop in bound traffic while their engine sat there screaming at ghosts.
Tornado's wheels pounded the rails as she thundered down the line. She was happy she didn't have to go on a truck and had the open rails to herself, leaving her home behind her with Mathias and Sean at her controls.
As happy as being on the rails made her, it didn't distract her from the events of last night.
Blue Peter's words still hung heavy in her boiler and made her less chatty than usual. Charlie had noticed and had worried for her. She assured the baby engine that everything was fine but as newly sentient as he was, he could still sense something wrong with his big sister.
"Everything alright Tornado?" Matthias asked his engine.
Tornado gave a deep sigh.
"I guess," she muttered. "I've been worse."
"Still upset over what happened with your cousin?" Matthias asked.
Tornado's mood soured and she frowned.
"Can we not talk about it please?" She asked quietly.
Matthias obliged her and kept quiet.
Tornado didn't want to think about Blue Peter but something about what he had said irked her and stuck in her mind.
He had only been nice to her in the beginning, in the hope that somehow, his old friend, the A1 Peppercorn Saint Mungo would return. That somehow, her build would resurrect him.
Pendennis Castle had recently explained to Tornado, Lady of Legend's backstory how an engine named Maindy Hall had given up her frames, her boiler, almost her entire body to the Saint Project. A project that had the desire to resurrect an extinct locomotive like her own trust however unlike her, they were building off of a previous engine.
A lot of engines found it morbid and blasphemous. Surprisingly the remaining members of the Hall Castle and many Great Westerns were alright about such a thing.
It was Maindy's wish to help the Saint Project and the last request of an engine who was going to die was sacred. It was their will and testament in a way. If they wanted part of their engine to be given to a piece of their crew it was honoured. If they wanted their metal to be turned into the track along a stretch of rail it was honoured.
Maindy wanted to give the GWR Saint class a chance to live again and with the blessing of the Hall classes she had. Until the King classes had taken over the project and tried desperately to bring back Maindy's soul against their wishes.
How Pendennis had spoken of it had made it sound like a nightmare.
It now made sense why Lady of Legend had been so rude and seemed to be angry all the time. Still, the young engine was now in the care of the City of Truro and he would no doubt help her in any way that he could.
She tried to push it away but a dangerous thought lingered in her mind. It was one that had always lingered, ever since she had found out about what had happened to her older brother.
Had the Trust only built her to attempt to resurrect Saint Mungo?
Her thoughts turned to the apparition she had seen on Flying Scotsman's engine months ago. The golden ghostly visage of Saint Mungo talking to her, reassuring her that he was proud of her.
Maybe, maybe she hadn't needed to see that. Maybe Blue Peter should've been the one to speak to it.
A loud screech and a blast of wind buffered her as suddenly out of nowhere, one of the high-speed electric engines rocketed past her with the Flying Scotsman train.
She shrieked and yelled profanity, almost jumping off the rails in fright at the sudden appearance.
"Sorry Ms Tornado!" She heard the Azuma call behind her but the Steam Engine almost didn't hear her, the Azuma was so far down the track by then.
She stared grumpily after her while Matthias laughed.
"Every time!" He chuckled and Tornado rocked herself to let him she was annoyed with him.
"It's not funny!" She shouted indignantly.
"It kind of is," her fireman, Sean insisted and she only humphed in reply.
"How are you running young lady?" Matthias asked her, sensing some of the tension from earlier had been relieved. "No squeaks or creaks?"
"No squeaks or creaks!" She answered happily.
"They did a good job of fixing those stays then, good, good," Matthias mused and carried on observing her water levels.
Tornado didn't speak for the rest of the trip to York, worried that she might tip her driver off to the uncomfortable feeling in her firebox.
It wasn't painful but it wasn't normal either.
Still, it could be nothing.
Why make a big fuss about something and waste money that should be going to Charlie?
As she pulled into the station at York she was surprised to find the Azuma stopped, but not taking on passengers. Instead, railway workers in fluorescent high visibility vest milled around the electric engine.
"Are you okay?" Tornado asked concerned as she pulled up alongside the engine with her support coach. "Is something wrong?"
The Azuma glanced over at her and laughed. She had a bright purple and yellow livery with 'LNER' printed on her along with 'Flying Scotsman'.
"No, no, nothing wrong, just trials for a new driver of my class that's all," the engine smiled at her. "I'm sorry for startling you back there Ms Tornado."
"Startled? I wasn't startled!" Tornado denied but the Azuma just laughed at her.
"I'm Kana," she smiled at Tornado. "We met at the event where Gordon was pulling the Flying Scotsman."
Tornado immediately lit up.
"Oh I remember you! We harassed Flying Scotsman for being a silly old man," she said excitedly. "Hello! It's good to see you again!"
"Same here!" Kana enthused. "I rarely ever see steam engines! I love, love, love them!"
Tornado blushed.
"Us silly things? We're antique and relics of the past," Tornado admitted.
"Silly of course you aren't! If you were, they would never have built you!" Kana insisted. She then looked sadly at the track before her. "Most of the other steam engines ignore us if we try to talk to them. We want to be friendly but it's like they want nothing to do with us."
"They're from a different era," Tornado scoffed. "You know? I get flack for having phone charger ports in my cab from the other engines sometimes."
"You have phone charger ports in your cab?" Kana exclaimed incredulously. "Are they steam-powered?!"
Tornado burst out laughing.
"Oh no! I have an electric generator on board!" She explained.
Kana's eyes widened in wonder.
"That's so cool!"
"Not really."
"Yes, it is! You're like a- a steam-electric engine!"
"I mean, the electric generator doesn't power my motion so I don't think I am-"
"Oh listen to you, you sound like an old fart! You should hang around more engines your age!" Kana insisted.
"There's," Tornado hesitated. "There's not really any engines my age. Well, steam engines anyway. There wasn't any for about a decade after my first firing."
Kana gazed at Tornado sadly.
"I'm a bit younger than you and I'm not a steam engine but… you can hang out with me and my friends if that's okay?"
Tornado's face lit up at the offer. She'd never hung out with engines her age before. It was always other Steam engines and their old fuddy-duddy ways.
"I'd really like that," she blushed. "Thank you, Kana."
"You're welcome Tornado," Kana grinned warmly at her.
Duck waited near the end of his branch line at Tidmouth Hault, his irritation growing as the minutes wore on. He'd had a rough week and his mood had turned sour upon learning that only minor repairs were being ordered by the overseer of his branch line despite the engineers insisting that the branch line be entirely upgraded after so many decades..
Duck had the mind to complain to the Fat Controller, however, his duties kept him busy as the larger stronger engines such as Green Arrow or Henry couldn't travel on the branch line increasing his workload and so keeping him from travelling far on his breaks.
Despite the ban of the larger engines the new engine, Lady of Legend was still small enough to travel and assist. Although one could hardly call what she did assisting as most of the time she whined and complained and spoke down to Duck, Oliver and the Scottish twins despite City of Truro warning her to behave.
She was also often late just as she was now, preferring to slack off and talk to Daisy or Ryan rather than work or constantly argue with authority figures for no good reason. She was extremely unlike a Great Western, Duck didn't even know why City of Truro tried.
His thoughts turned to the Great Western leader and he frowned. He'd noticed a distinct change in the engine, his previous warm but commanding presence had changed somewhat after Mallard had held him hostage.
Whereas before Truro was always easy to talk to but could be firm and unyielding should the need arise, he was now disgruntled and distant, lacking the special spark in his firebox and his eyes that were once filled with humour and joy were now dark and cold.
Duck looked at his buffers. He didn't know how to handle this situation or who to turn to, Oliver barely knew Truro and the famous Great Westerns, Pendennis and Trojan, had gone back to their railways and Flying Scotsman could be anywhere on the mainland right now.
It wasn't like Duck to give up on a friend though. Maybe Green Arrow would know a thing or two. The guy was clever and highly intelligent although he lacked social finesse.
In the distance, the sharp barks of an engine sounded and Duck braced himself, expecting a tantrum from the young Lady of Legend. He didn't need to however as he found that the engine coming towards him was James and not the young Tydfil.
"James?" Duck asked confused. "What are you doin' here? Where's Lady of Legend?"
James rolled his eyes and a look of disgust appeared on his face at the mention of the bratty little engine.
"That brat got transferred to Edward's branch line," the splendid red engine puffed. "She's Edward's problem now."
"Poor Edward," Duck lamented. "Thanks for delivering the supplies James, I was about to head North and give the overseer a piece of my mind."
"Yeah well, good luck with that, apparently everyone's all excited because of some foreign engines that decided to come to the island of Sodor," James sneered annoyed. "Everyone's been going up to Ulfstead castle to go and see them. It's causing 'confusion and delay!'"
"Foreign engines?" Duck asked confused. "From the mainland?"
"From Australia, I think," James huffed. "Haven't seen them but they're probably not as good as me!"
Duck ignored James' boast and looked thoughtfully at him.
"The Fat Controller didn't tell anyone about this," Duck mused.
"Apparently he only just found out when he met them at the docks," James explained. He then gave Duck a mischievous smile. "The Pacific is supposedly bigger than Gordon and friends with Flying Scotsman."
Duck returned the grin knowing that Gordon would go ballistic.
"Well, if they do a roundhouse introduction I would very much like to be a part of that," Duck suggested with a wink to James.
"I'll let you know if I hear anything," James smirked at the pannier tank.
Most of the time, James and Duck did not get along, aside from rare moments where they had a common goal. Seeing Gordon become indignant and huffy over some foreign engine being better or bigger than him was definitely one of them.
Flying Scotsman basking in the railway yard behind the museum having every inch of him scrubbed clean by the employees. Occasionally a volunteer would speak to him or the young excited ones would ask questions but otherwise, the great green A3 Pacific was simply happy to sit and bask in the rare winter sunlight.
It took an entire day to get an engine of his size completely clean from tyres to the dome. Some engines hated it, anxious to get moving again while others loved it.
"You look like you're enjoying yourself," a deep warm voice spoke and the Scotsman lazily opened his eyes to look at an A4 who had come to a stop before him.
He cast a curious gaze over the A4, taking in its appearance.
"Black?" He asked and Sir Nigel gave an affirmative hum.
"A gift from Lady Gresley, as an apology for being abandoned in a siding," he explained, highly amused.
"You never struck me as an engine who liked the black livery," Scotsman yawned.
"It looks nice on Connor, I thought I'd return to it."
"It's not glossed," Scotsman pointed out. "It looks better glossed."
"I disagree, I prefer it matte," Sir Nigel proclaimed proudly. He then looked back at Scotsman who sat there, gleaming in the sunlight. "Not all of us want to blind people with our shininess. Glossed black would make me too reflective."
"Yes but Connor is a Black 5," Scotsman argued. "His livery is meant to be black."
"It's my livery I will have it painted how I wish!" Sir Nigel huffed irritated. "At least I can change my livery without everyone and their mother complaining about it!"
"Don't remind me," Scotsman groaned. "The amount of time people have come up to me and complained directly to my face is mind-boggling."
Scotsman looked over at the fenceline nearby and saw a large group of Rail enthusiasts all milling about with cameras, some parents with their children all yearning to get a look at the famous engine. He smiled at them a gave a whistle after some of the kids made arm motions at him. The crowd laughed and cheered, and the children were delighted.
Sir Nigel chuckled.
"A small sacrifice for the love of the people I think," he assured Scotsman and the A3 smiled at him. "You're the people's engine, never lose sight of that."
"I try not to," Scotsman replied as he stared at the group all gawking at him. "It's the reason I'm still here."
A diesel horn sounded as blue and yellow Class 08 Diesel came shuffling along with the name 'Matey' on its nameplate.
"Hullo, lads," the museum's lead shunter rumbled by with some rolling stock. "Word o' warning, Clun Castle's out and about today."
Scotsman and Sir Nigel gave each other a knowing look as Matey carried on, humming to himself as he worked.
"I'd rather not be anywhere near here if she's spitting venom out of her smokestack, pardon my crudeness," Sir Nigel remarked but he felt dread in his boiler as he saw Scotsman's eyes focus on something behind him. "Damn it."
"Well if it isn't two overhyped engines," a high-pitched female voice drawled as the sound of an engine echoed around the yard as it pulled up alongside Sir Nigel.
Scotsman resisted the urge to insult her back and smiled at her kindly.
"Hello Clun Castle, I haven't seen you in a long while you're looking quite marvellous," he tried to charm her but the ugly grimace on her face did not falter.
"Your flattery means nothing! Especially coming from a murderer!" She hissed at him and Sir Nigel immediately tensed up and glared at her.
"Now listen here, young lady!" He began, his voice loud and stern but he was cut off by Flying Scotsman, who appeared completely calm and unbothered.
"If you really believe that I'm a murderer, what makes it think it's a good idea to go mouthing off to me? Hmmm?" Scotsman questioned, completely unperturbed.
Clun Castle was used to starting fights by antagonising people and causing drama. She was like Green Arrow had once been however unlike Arrow, she did not possess any amount of charm or likeability that he did.
Arrow had a way with words and half-truths. He was devious and he was intelligent.
Clun Castle was the very opposite. A brash and impulsive engine who never thought things out and only wished to cause conflict.
So it was surprising to her that Flying Scotsman didn't even deny her accusation and challenged it. She also hadn't thought about the consequences of challenging one of the highest-ranked engines at the museum.
She didn't have an answer for his challenge.
"I find it very rude to accuse someone of such a thing, let alone in public so why don't we drop this little mishap and I won't tell Lode Star about it shall we?" Scotsman smiled and Clun Castle shifted uncomfortably on her wheels.
Lode Star was the sterner of the two between herself and the City of Truro. With Truro, he might take pity on you but Lode Star refused to take anything from anyone.
She then threw Scotsman a dirty glare, clearly annoyed that her attempt to start drama had barely flapped the famous A3 and chuffed off in a huff.
Not before throwing a snide comment behind her though.
"I don't know what Truro sees in you," she scoffed and disappeared out of view. "That old man has passed his used-by date anyway!"
Scotsman frowned but didn't respond. The comment cut deep but he didn't let Clun have her victory. He knew what she was like.
"Disgraceful," Sir Nigel muttered. "I struggle to find how such an engine is a sibling to Pendennis."
Scotsman sighed. "It is what it is."
Sir Nigel frowned. "Still to bring up Mallard."
"Where did she even find out? Has someone been leaking information?" Scotsman frowned. "The board promised to seal the case shut for all involved."
Sir Nigel paused and looked thoughtfully at his cousin.
"My sister's been speculating, I think," he mused. "But I am not one to divulge or speculate. I just know that Clun and Union are very close to each other."
"How close?"
"Like Truro and yourself close."
"I see," was all Scotsman said as he refocused his gaze at the rail fans.
"Union was the closest remaining sibling to Mallard, losing him was tough on her. She was furious when she heard that Mallard had died," Sir Nigel explained. "Even if Mallard wasn't nice to her she still adored him and respected him. Granted her attitude towards you, she might be throwing around rumours."
Flying Scotsman sighed to himself.
"A pain, but nothing I can't handle," he proclaimed as Sir Nigel built up steam to leave. "Where's your next tour headed old boy?"
"Doncaster," Sir Nigel grinned a wide smile on his face as he saw Scotsman's reaction. "Jealous?"
"I am very much so," Scotsman confirmed.
"Tornado's coming down from Darlington today, tell her hello from her favourite uncle," Sir Nigel chuckled.
"You could stay and see her."
"Afraid not," Sir Nigel hissed steam as his wheels began to turn. "You're not the only one who has fans they can't disappoint, old man."
Scotsman rolled his eyes as the A4 departed with a loud deafening whistle, but returned the whistle in kind.
"I'll tell her you're smoked," Scotsman shouted at him with good humour.
"Always!" Sir Nigel laughed back.
Green Arrow was heading into the Claypits at a low speed with his long heavy train, his mind dreading having to interact with the two gremlins that called themselves, Bill and Ben. They were probably going to mix clay with his coal or fill his water carrier full of red dye again or something equally stupid.
No, they probably weren't going to try the dye thing again. They'd gotten into serious trouble after the dye had stained him and had badly affected his intake tubes to the point he had had to have them replaced and a full cleanout of both tender and boiler. Lady Gresley and Mr Stainer had not been impressed to find out that one of the National Collection's engines had been damaged due to a prank.
Understandably, Arrow himself had been enraged and exploded in fury at the two, the Bagnall tanks immediately feeling sorry after having to do Arrow's duties as well as their own.
They'd eased on their pranks but Arrow was always suspicious of them, always had to know where both of the cheeky little engines were.
Arrow's thoughts were pulled away from the twin terrors as he rounded a corner and to his terror was shocked to find an engine stopped on his line directly in front of him.
"What are you doing!" He bellowed furiously at the engine in front of him. "Get out of the way!"
Gabriel slammed on his brakes and sparks showered the rails, his wheels screeched horribly, shrieking and sliding as the heavy train pushed him the trucks screaming, 'On! On! On!'
His brakes weren't enough though and he collided with the stopped train's tender with great force, the engine giving a loud and surprised shriek of fear as Arrow and the train jolted her harshly.
The force of the jolt sent Green Arrow's wheels off of the track and derailed, sending ballast and chucks of splintered wood everywhere as he travelled a significant distance off the rails, ballast blasting him in the face.
The other train screamed, clearly terrified, her tender derailing with a deafening crash, water exploding out of it and coal was flung high into the air. Thankfully, her cab and boiler was remarkably intact.
"What are you doing you careless oaf!?" The engine shrieked at him furiously. "You derailed my tender! You almost derailed me!"
Green Arrow didn't answer, his smokebox felt like it had been hit by a freight train but he blinked as he found himself resting in ballast and his attention turned to the engine that had caused the incident.
It was Lady of Legend.
Before he could speak or chastise her for being stationary on the track, he felt his consciousness slip away from him and his vision went black.
Lady of Legend watched as Green Arrow's eyes rolled into the back of his smokebox and he passed out from either shock or his damage.
The damage was significant, his front left buffer had completely bent upwards and to the side almost completely torn off from the force. His buffer beam had warped from the impact and deep gouge marks peppered the front of him and his running boards were covered in wooden splinters and ballast. Deep scratches were on his face.
The crew of both engines had run to safety, fearing Green Arrow's boiler may explode and the trucks had gone quiet, the ones closest to Arrow now fearing for their life after realising the danger.
It was only then that the Lady of Legend realised how much trouble she was in.
Fun Fact: Tornado does in fact have ports to charge your phone. She is a truly modern steam engine.
For updates, extra lore or to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tornadoyoungiron tumblr
There is also a Tumblr where you can directly ask the characters of this story at Ask Young Iron