Disclaimed: I own no rights to the characters, places or world of Stardust.
*
Jeptha Pryor stepped off the gangplank onto the Ironcloud Airdock, hoisting the rucksack off his shoulder and dropping it hard on the wood deck. He paused, eyeing the flood of people moving in every direction across the transfer platform. Greatcoats, bustles, leather jerkins, uniforms.
He'd seen the freighter Impervious berthed on the far side of the tower, but the sheer number of passengers disembarking from, and embarking upon the airship was a surprise to him. Spying the dock warden, Jeptha lifted his pack back onto his back and sallied forth.
"I'm 'orry miss," The dock warden said, speaking to a young woman beside the gangplank. Passengers moved past him, each handing him the small brass token marked with the crest of the Stormhold Transportaion Bureau. The woman appeared despondent, and a little lost. She might have been eighteen years of age, Jeptha thought, but if so, she was only just.
"But good sir, I simply have to get on that transport," She pleaded.
"No token," He said, half listening to her as he collected passes from person after person, marking each off in a leather bound ledger. "STB regulations 'm afraid."
"Are there no rooms left?" Jeptha inquired of the man, becoming concerned himself.
"Ah, n'ere a one," the bushy whiskered warden grunted. The last of the passengers trailed onto the gangplank.
The young woman looked up into Jeptha's eyes. Her features were very soft and beautiful, her curly auburn hair trailing down her back and shoulders where it intermingled with the softly worn pale blue cotton of her peasant dress. She wore the top above her shoulders, revealing little, bound around her middle with a leather bodice, criss-cross tied at the front that appeared very utilitarian in style. She had a small boutonnière of wild flowers on her breast, a satchel in her hand, and a rectangular suitcase at her heel. She was the very picture of a good, simple girl bound to parts unknown.
"By my, word," she said turning to Jeptha, "How can there be no room on such a large airship?"
Jeptha, sensing her humble background, assumed she probably had never been on such a liner as the Impervious, whose equipment stores took up nearly a quarter of the vessel's hull. Jeptha himself had only left to sail a year earlier at an age to rival hers with probably little more knowledge of the world than her.
"Sir, I myself am seeking transport on the Impervious, can we not bunk in the store? Surely there is a corner or a niche to fit two so fair as us? I can pay,"
"If you please," the man began with waning patience "Gold or no, wi'out a token, 'eres no pass on the ship. I dunna make the rules."
"Please," the young woman pleaded, taking a small pale white petaled flower with black tips from her boutonnière and handing to the man. The man's features softened and he stared at the two.
"Aw, 'ere, 'is would look much better in your 'air," and he slid the flower in the crux at the top of her right ear. "The two a ya can 'ead in to the reserve rope locker, jus' neither 'o ya make n'ere a peep 'til we reach Stormhold, a'right?"
Jeptha and the young woman both nodded, and he waved for them to proceed. Jeptha immediately reached down to carry the lady's suitcase for her. She smiled timidly, and walked up the ramp before him. In the last year that Jeptha had been hunting lighting in the clouds, he hadn't once seen a woman, and he positively melted at the sight at this pretty lass. He felt it his duty to make sure she made it to her destination securely, and thus he followed her to their accommodations.
As it turned out, the reserve rope locker was a fair sized room nearly fifteen feet square with a small porthole in the wall for light. The dock warden explained that they would probably not be disturbed by any of the crew, as the locker was rarely used except in heavy storms, and the predictions had been that the day's journey to Stormhold would be smooth flying. Jeptha and the young girl smiled uncomfortably at one another and each claimed a bundle of ropes on opposite sides of the room.
"My name is Jeptha," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Jeptha Pryor."
"I am Sophronia Smithwright," she replied. "This is my first trip on an airship."
"Is it?" Jeptha responded. "I've been 'asail for the last year. I'm ready to get my feet back on the ground. Where are you off to?"
Sophronia sat down on the rope bundle and straightened the skirt of her cotton dress. The position heaved her small breasts upward, making them far more pronounced than before. Jeptha glanced away immediately, but Sophronia smiled amid flush cheeks.
"My parents are sending me off to live with my aunt," She explained softly. "They feel that the opportunities in my town, Beatrice Hollow, are a little sparse, and my aunt, she's a Lady in the court of the Lord of Stormhold. They've asked her to educate me as a lady, such that I might marry to a higher station,"
"I see," Jeptha replied, sitting upon his own bundle of ship rope. "I heard rumors that the Lord's sons have been succumbing to tragic ends. I've even heard rumors for fratricide,"
She bit her lip a little and glanced back. "I'm sorry, I don't know what 'fratricide' is?"
"Oh," Jeptha smiled. "It's when one is killed by their own brother,"
"I see," Sophronia said. "They have been decidedly unlucky. I believe Secundus, Quartus, Quintas and Sextus have all meet untimely demises, but I hadn't heard that any of their other brother had been responsible. Do you have any siblings?"
"No," Jeptha replied. "I'm an only child. My parent's died in a fire last year. That's why I left to join the airship, I thought it might be a good profession,"
"Is it?"
