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2020-04-06
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1/1
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Ships of the Sky

Summary:

Temeraire and Laurence discuss the similarities between sails and dragon wings.

OR

This is totally 110% how parachutes were invented in real life, I promise.

Notes:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Beyond_Infinities!

I did so much research for this fic and used like 0.1% of it, lol. That's procrastination for you folks!

Anyway, like two years ago, I'm still not British, and surprisingly I'm also not from the late 18th, early 19th century, so I fully expect that mistakes were made.

Stay Healthy Everyone! (for context to those of you from the future, COVID 19 is going around at time of writing)

-Sevy

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Laurence,” the obsidian dragon hummed, one enormous blue eye sliding open to regard the man lying on his foreleg, “my wings are a bit like sails, are they not?”

The man roused from where he had been enjoying the sun.  He took a few moments to answer, sitting up and stroking along the sleek scales of the dragon’s nose.  “I do hope you realize, my dear, that I would not give you up for any ship in any navy.  In fact, I distinctly remember having a discussion on this before.” He finally replied.

“Yes of course Laurence, I remember… though it is nice to hear it again” Temeraire said.  The pleased rumble accompanying his words gave Laurence and image of an enormously large cat purring after receiving praise.  “Then yes, I suppose a comparison could be made, especially in strong winds” Laurence replied, thinking of how Temeraire flew a tack when flying with headwind.  “Why the interest in sails Temeraire?” he inquired, “Do you wish to stand on a boat and provide its movement?” he continued, letting his amusement of the image leak into his voice.  The rumble turned vaguely threatening, and Temeraire’s eye narrowed at the jest.

“No Laurence.  I am wondering why England does not have aerial ships.  Surely someone has noticed the similarities between sails and dragon wings.  Has no one attempted a flying ship?” Temeraire asked.  Laurence was quite taken aback, blinking rapidly in astonishment.  The closest he knew were the transports carried by the French dragons in the invasion of Dover, but something without dragon power like Temeraire was suggesting… no.  He took breath to tell Temeraire so, but… “I haven’t heard of any attempts, which inclines me to thinking it impossible, however you are more inclined to the natural sciences than I am.  Did you wish to make the attempt?”  Temeraire curled tighter around Laurence, pressing his snout into the embrace of his arms.  “Yes please, Laurence.  Thank you.” He rumbled more vibration than voice.  “Of course, my dear” Laurence replied with a fond smile.

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“Well, the way I see it is this: if anybody’s going to succeed in making things fly, it’s going to be something that already flies” Granby said when Laurence told him about Temeraire’s new passion.  “And maybe along the way he’ll make falling off of a dragon less dangerous?” he continued, his disbelief obvious in his smile.  “One person flying devices might be easier to test I suppose, I’ll bring it up with Temeraire” Laurence replied unsure as to how exactly he would bring it up.  “Though he’ll probably say that he’ll catch everyone who gets knocked off…” he muttered under his breath.  Not quietly enough though, since Granby just laughed and laid a commiserating hand on his shoulder.

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“Laurence, tie this pebble to the corners of a bit of sailcloth please!” Temeraire was practically vibrating in excitement.  Laurence looked from the at least 30-stone ‘pebble’ to Temeraire’s bright eyes and back a few times. “How much sailcloth, Temeraire?”

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Laurence had been forced to request aid from the crew when Temeraire had asked for a wood and sailcloth reconstruction of a fully extended wing.  It was a new experience sewing sailcloth to a wooden frame with the enlisted under his command on their leave, but it wasn’t a bad one.  He had the feeling it would become more common as time went on.

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“What’s the aerial corps need so much sailcloth in the Scottish Highlands for?  You lot building a ship to catch Nessie?” the supplier said with an incredulous laugh.  Laurence could admit that it was quite strange.  He had already bought enough sailcloth to rig a sloop-of-war, which wasn’t normal, however in this case his reputation as an aviator gave him some leeway.  “Not quite.  More… investigating alternate usages.  My thanks for the effort” Laurence replied, thinking of how difficult it would have been to transport the admittedly large amount of sailcloth that was presently being strapped to Temeraire outside of the town.  “If you say so, sir.  If you want a new load it’ll be a while before I can get it to ya.” the merchant said.  “That won’t be a problem” Laurence informed him while privately deciding to begin using the aerial corps’ internal transport for new materials Temeraire might want.

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It was high time for some drills Laurence thought.  They had been flying calmly for over an hour and the crew was perhaps too relaxed.  There was of course no danger, given that they were presently just to the west of Sheffield, but that was the purpose of drills.  He patted Temeraire’s neck in the signal for running drills they had come up with and after a short pause, shouted: “Ware Boarders!”  Temeraire reacted beautifully, immediately turning into a violent clockwise roll in attempt to dislodge the perceived boarders.  The crew also responded well, bracing for the roll and drawing swords and pistols after its completion, except… where was Roland?  “Laurence, Roland was thrown off!” came Temeraire’s worried exclamation as he spiraled to catch her.  The remaining crew were already realizing that it had been a drill.  One of the bellmen held up a ripped leather strap, carabiner still firmly attached to Temeraire’s harness.  “Oh!  She remembered to use it!” Temeraire exclaimed as he slowed his frantic turn.  A glance over to Roland showed the sailcloth strapped to her back billowing out and catching the wind, slowing her fall dramatically.  Laurence rather thought Granby would be pleased his comment had borne fruit.

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“Give me the designs.  We’ll make enough for everyone in the Corps.  Tell Temeraire this is fine work.” The admiral said.  “Yes sir, I will sir.” was Laurence’s only possible reply.  He turned to leave and with every step the folded sailcloth strapped to his back shifted reassuringly.

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The admiralty wasn’t very impressed with Temeraire’s ‘descent ship’ which was limited to infantry without cannon and required dragons to take it up to a great height before launching it.  Laurence thought differently, but he knew it was more his belief in Temeraire than anything else.  Regardless, a thing of wood and sailcloth carrying a troop across the skies wasn’t something he had ever imagined possible.  “I wonder if we can find a way to make it take off by itself?” Temeraire murmured beside him.  He pat Temeraire’s flank as he replied, “If anyone can, it’s you, Temeraire.”  He was rewarded with a quiet nuzzle.

Notes:

for reference, the result of some of my research as relevant to this fic:
1 Stone ~ 7.25 Kg => 30 stone ~ 217.5 Kg or as Laurence sees it "a 200 Kg rock" (for the Freedom Units! people: "a 450 pound rock")
sloop-of-war: 3-masted ship with up to 18 main cannon ports (thus not including guns on the upper decks like swivel cannons and so-such)
troop: generally between 15 and 45, but in special circumstances between 9 and 100 people, here taken as ~30