TGR but There's a Roleswap (2x5)

Chapter 7 - The Furness Railway 21

Word Count: 1,744

Edward was pulling the Honeypot on the Main Line, enjoying the scenery of the Island of Sodor, and chatting with the coaches. The Honeypot coaches enjoyed his company. It was only April yet the breeze felt warm and inviting as he went from station to station. It felt just like the old days when he was a really useful engine. He had just completed the delayed run up to Tidmouth and turned around for the next trip, having just left Knapford and heading to Crosby.

"For an engine pulling coaches for the first time in years, you're doing wonderful, dear!" praised the brake coach.

"R-Really?" Edward asked timidly.

"Absolutely!" confirmed the first coach. "You did say you were an Express engine."

"I did. I-I'm still rusty!" he insisted, only for the Honeypot coaches to reassure him that he was doing just fine.

As he and the coaches continued their trip to Crosby, James approached them from the other direction, having just passed Crosby. Edward was fully engrossed in his conversation with the Honeypot coaches that he didn't hear or see the other engine until...

"Edward!" James fumed loudly and quickly braked to a stop.

"James!" exclaimed the Honeypot coaches. Edward gasped, startled, and braked harshly, coming to a nasty stop.

"I can't believe it," huffed James as his boiler bubbled furiously and he backed down on the line to see Edward's startled face. "But Philip was right! Engines like you cause nothing but trouble!"

The Indian-red engine looked down. The lack of attention and respect broke it for James.

"You won't even look at me! Who do you think you are? And what are you doing with my coaches?"

"Your coaches?" exclaimed the Honeypot coaches in unison, offended as Edward looked away with a guilty face.

"We aren't even the slightest 'your coaches'!" exclaimed the first coach.

"We are Molly's coaches!" followed the second coach.

"And even then, we're our own coaches!" followed the third. "Aren't we all?"

"Quite right!" they all chimed.

"And what was so important that you needed to do?" said the fourth coach.

"Warranting it necessary to leave us in a siding in the middle of nowhere!" said the fifth coach, the brake coach.

"It was Maron!" hissed the fourth coach.

"But still!" argued the brake coach.

The rest of the coaches glared at James, who was absolutely humiliated and stunned. "I-" He was beginning to lose his words. "I just needed to do something!" he scoffed, giving off a defensive tone.

The Honeypot coaches huffed at James. "Come on, Edward. Apologies for his behavior," said the first coach, with a stern tone aimed at James, to the foreigner, who had stayed relatively quiet. "Let's get going. We don't want to delay any further."

Edward said nothing, still avoiding eye contact. He left James behind with two solemn whistles, quite the opposite of his typical bright whistle.

The tone struck James. Yes, he was upset with Edward but he hadn't intended to upset him as well. "I just wanted to look my best for the show," James said quietly. He followed Edward, backing down the track and quickly catching up to him.

"I just wanted to be part of the Great Railway Show," he mumbled meekly after a moment of silence.

"Eh?" asked Edward, caught off guard by the engine going backward but still refused to look at James straight in the eyes. "I thoucht-"

"I lied!" he exclaimed. "I was upset with you earlier. I'm sorry."

"For? W-Wis it because... I bumpit ye this mornin'?"

"...Yes?"

"Whit dae ye mean '...Yes?'" Edward huffed harshly, feeling hurt. "Ur ye mad at me, aye o' naw?"

"No. I was mad because you're..." He looked away, feeling silly. "...you're red."

Edward frowned but his eyebrows shifted his expression from offense to questioning. A sign to keep talking.

"Because... I thought..." James paused to word what he wanted to say properly. "I thought that I would have strong competition for the Best Decorated Parade!" He let out a sigh. "It's not like I'm participating anyways."

"W-Whit? Why?" he asked, flustered. "Did somethin' happen?"

"It's silly."

"No' if it's makin' ye upset."

He looked back at the other engine.

"Ye gettin' mad b-because I'm red is... silly. I-I think there's more than w-whit ye're lettin' oan," said Edward with a hint of genuine warmth and comfort in his tone.

James stayed quiet and continued to look over at the engine as he thought about it. As they neared Crosby, James went into the tiny yard and used the turntable. Once he pulled in next to Edward, he finally spoke. "My sister was chosen for it instead of me."

"A sister? Y-Ye huv a sister? I huvnae seen another ye around."

"No, no! There's an engine who I consider a sister of mine."

"Och!" Edward's eyes perked up. "T-Thon's very lucky o' ye. Ye must be close wit' everyone else."

"Somewhat."

"Eh?"

James gulped. When they both left Crosby, he mustered the courage and asked, "Can I be honest with you?"

Edward was startled. "Uh... S-Sure," he replied.

James let out a heavy sigh. "I'm not that well-liked because of how I am. Unless I do my jobs with no fuss, that is."

"Why?"

"I'm not a very bearable engine," he scoffed. "Look at who's coming down the tracks, oh my, it's him! That's James, oh dear!" he sang in mockery, fully aware that the coaches, passengers, and crews were listening, especially the crews. It transitioned into laughter that dwindled quickly.

"Y-Ye cannae be thon bad o' an engine," hummed Edward. Then, he has an idea. "We got aff oan the wrong track. Start over?"

"Hm?"

"Us. S-Should we start over?"

James quickly hummed in agreement.

"I'll go first! Edward. Ma name's Edward. Class 21 frae the Furness Railway. Preservit by the Furness Railway Trust. Ye?"

James didn't respond.

"Is somethin' wrong?"

"You're preserved?"

"It's.. some story," replied Edward, the hint of sadness going unnoticed as he quickly covered it up with a sly smirk. "...stranger."

"Och!" James puffed up proudly. "James, the North Western Railway's number five, at your service!" he exclaimed.

The Honeypot coaches groaned, which James had fully expected. What he didn't see coming was hearing laughter from the other red tender engine.

"What?"

"S-sorry, sorry! It's jist-" Edward laughed a little more. "Y-Ye're a very funny engine!"

"Huh, I do have a thing for humor," James remarked smugly as Edward's laughter subsided.

"P-Pleasure to meet ye. Bytheway, s-sorry I took yer coaches. I should've askit first."

"It's alright. If you had asked later, the Honeypot would've been very late, so, if anything, thank you for doing that."

The preserved red engine became flustered. "Och, w-well, ye're welcome. B-But it was nothin'! I wis built for-!"

"Darling, don't be so modest!" exclaimed the first coach.

"Remember what we said!" followed the second coach.

"For an engine out-of-service for decades, you're doing wonderful pulling a stopping train!" piped the third coach.

"What are you?" James blurted out before his eyes went wide, realizing what he said.

"James!" scolded the coaches before muttering.

"Sorry, but at this point, I have to know! You said you're a preserved Class. I was friends with all the 21s, and I don't remember seeing you. You look similar to them though."

"I wis left in a sidin'," replied Edward.

"What?"

Letting out a sigh, Edward replied, "It's a short story. We huv time."

"You have all of my attention!" James exclaimed proudly.

The preserved red tender engine couldn't help but smile warmly. As they neared the Wellsworth Suspension Bridge, Edward hummed thoughtfully.

"It's nineteen-fourteen. A railway wis lookin' for an engine s-someane could spare. The North Western Railway."

"This very railway?"

"Mhm, b-but they learnit aboot my behavior issues. They immediately rejectit the offer. T-they, the board, had enouch." Edward's warm brass eyes rose up and stared off into the distance. "I wis withdrawn and left in a sidin'. I-I stayit thare and watchit everyane else work until I wis found by ane o' my sisters. In yon early days o' the Amalgamation. She broucht the rest o' thaim in secret. But they, the board, found oot. I was relocatit again."

"So how did you get preserved?" James asked.

"A g-group o' campers. They found me. I didnae ken where I wis. I wis in Scotland. Then the Furness Railway Trust rescuit me. I-it took aboot a year but they restorit me. I steamit the first time this year."

"...what did you do for that to happen?"

"I-I wisnae a very nice engine," Edward reluctantly replied. "I'm the oldest o' my siblings. I wis... I wis overprotective o' thaim."

"But that's normal," said James, confused.

"No' me. I wis m-more aggressive than others..."

James eyed him wearily. "So... you pushing me earlier today wasn't you being aggressive?"

"Naw, naw!" he replied, offended. "The ship. I wis tryin' tae get oan the ship. T-thon didnae go sae well."

"Oh, right... Wait, then what are you still doing here?"

"I-I got lost at the junction. O-Oan the other side o' thon hill. Gordon's Hill? Sae much goin' oan sae I went back tae Maron. I thoucht I could fine some-engine tae guide me."

James winced, realizing his behavior earlier hadn't made it any easier. But then he had an idea. "I can take you tomorrow! By the time we get to Vicarstown, it'll be dark."

Caught off guard, Edward gasped and for the first time, he made eye contact with James. "Really? But yer jobs?"

"My first job tomorrow is the Honeypot, so I can take you along with me and I'll drop you off at Vicarstown Station! There are no junctions after that station. Just go straight ahead and you'll find the Vicarstown Drawbridge, which leads you to the Mainland!"

"Och, thank ye, James!" exclaimed Edward, before gasping again. "Jobs. Thon's it!"

"What's it?"

"Ur ye a mixit-traffic engine?"

"Um, yes? Why is that?"

"Y-Ye could enter the new competition! The Mixit-Traffic Challenge! P-Pullin' passenger trains. Pullin' guids trains. Headin' trains tender first. It's where smaller tender engines go tae compete!"

"I'm not small!" James scoffed.

"I-I ken! Ye get whit I'm sayin'? If yer controller hasnae chosen an engine, ye should ask him."

James hummed. A competition for engines like him? Now that could work! he thought as they stopped at Maron. By then, the sun had set and the night sky began to consume the dwindling sunlight.