After living around ponies for a time, Maeve had discovered one curious habit that most, but not all of them shared. When the sun went down, most ponies became sleepy. Both Red and Fuschia shared this trait.
The sun lingered near the horizon and Fuschia was already yawning. Maeve had just pulled her out of the bathtub, had dried her, and was now brushing her. Nearby, in a chair, Red watched, his eyes half closed. Red had tried to leave, had tried to escape before the hard work and the bath, but Maeve made a good natured threat to have the guards bring if him back if he left her alone with Fuschia.
The little red colt was worried about his mother coming to collect him as he sat yawning in his chair. He was far too full, he had eaten too much at supper, and then had eaten too much dessert. Not having his mother about to tell him what to do, he had eaten several slices of raspberry and rhubarb pie topped with ice cream.
The filly that Maeve was trying to brush had suffered the same fate. Fuschia kicked and wiggled, made little grumpy grunts, and did her best to test Maeve’s patience. Maeve on the other hand, even though she had endured a long day, was in a good mood and her patience seemed infinite. She hummed as she worked Fuschia over with a brush, sometimes poking the filly in her pudgy, full belly if Fuschia became a bit too fussy.
“I think it’s time to put you to bed,” Maeve said as she set down the hair brush.
Fuschia yawned, stretching as she did so, and then replied, “I’m not sleepy!”
“I know that you’re not sleepy.” Maeve stood up and then lifted Fuschia from the sofa. Maeve cradled the foal in her arms, a peculiar feeling overcoming her. She bounced the foal around. “But I would bet that you’d like to sit down someplace comfortable, and this little bed that the servants brought looks very, very comfortable. Too bad I’m too big to climb into it, or I’d join you.”
Reaching the bed, Maeve hunkered down and set the filly down. She patted Fuschia on the head and with a reluctant huff, Fuschia laid down as Maeve pulled the sheets and the blankets up over her. The filly yawned again and nuzzled her pillow, almost causing Maeve to succumb to paroxysms of adoration. Red could be cute when he wanted to be, even though he would never admit it, but Fuschia was adorable to the point of it being painful to look at.
“I had a nice day,” Fuschia said after she recovered from her yawn. “Thank you.”
“It was a lovely day.” Red spoke in a sleepy voice and he had trouble keeping his eyes open. “It was nice showing Fuschia the castle.”
“And seeing Philomena,” Fuschia added.
It had been a long day for Maeve. She thought of Bjarke and wondered if he would be by at any time soon. A part of her looked forward to seeing him and hearing his voice, but was also afraid of him coming anywhere near her. It was an odd dilemma to be stuck in.
There was a soft knock upon the door and then a voice said in a low voice, “Sorceress Maeve, you have a visitor.”
“Send them in,” Maeve replied. She turned her head and watched the door open. She could see nothing for a moment, heard a clank of armor, and then watched as Rose Gold stepped in.
“Mom, I can explain—”
“Quiet Red, can’t you see a little foal is trying to go to sleep?” Rose Gold smirked at her son, causing Red to become even redder. She crossed the room in a few light steps, her hooves making light clicks upon the stone floor, and then kissed her colt upon his head. “Red, I’m proud of you. I had a messenger tell me where you were and what you were doing. You did a good thing.” Rose Gold kissed her son a second time, and Red shied away, looking embarrassed.
“Princess Luna has returned,” Rose Gold said to Maeve. The earth pony’s brows wrinkled somewhat. “I would expect a visit.”
“Oh… she’s back.” Maeve gave Fuschia a final pat upon the head and then stood up, her head now almost hitting the ceiling.
“Oh my… you have gotten taller,” Rose Gold said, craning her head to look up.
“And her arm is made out of wood.” Red closed his eyes and yawned, then shook his head. “She also has funny ears.”
“Eh, you have funny ears, Red.” Rose raised one eyebrow at her son. “You have Quickie’s ears, you poor dear. Looks like two barn doors sticking out on the sides of his head.” Rose lowered her voice. “Come on Red, time to go home. Get up, we must be going. A little filly has been tucked into bed and she needs her sleep so she won’t be cranky.” Rose glanced over at Fuschia, who was already sound asleep, her barrel rising and falling beneath the blankets.
“Okay,” Red replied. He looked over at Maeve and gave her a sleepy blink as well as a smile. “Good night, Maeve.”
“Good night, Red.” Maeve lifted her right hand and waved. “Good night, Rose Gold.”
“Good night, Maeve.” Rose Gold looked up at Maeve and grinned. “Good luck…”
Maeve sat on a sofa tucked away in an alcove that was located not too far from her room. There were two guards near her door with instructions to inform her if they heard anything, anything at all from Fuschia. Maeve was reading a book, sort of. She was turning pages every now and then, but her attention was elsewhere, thinking about the events of the day.
Hearing hoofsteps, Maeve looked up, expecting to see Luna, but upon seeing the maid, she dropped her nose back into her book. It was a little odd to see maids working at night, but it happened, typically when the castle was expecting guests.
The past few days were blurred together into a haze from the drugs that Maeve had taken. She was now free of their influence however, and her mind, her thinking, was much clearer. She thought about her mother, how little she remembered, and as much as she tried to avoid it, she thought about her father.
Her father, while her mother had been alive, had been a good, loving man. He was kind, a hard worker, a farmer who had become a factory worker like so many others. He was patient, he was the quiet sort, the sort of man who valued action more than words. Maeve remembered his hands; they were rough hands, calloused, his hands were so abused that they would snag clothing, damaging the clothing and the fine stockings of Maeve’s mother. Maeve could remember her father tousling her hair when she was younger, and his rough hands would snag her fine, frizzy hairs, causing pain when he pulled away.
Heaving a sigh, Maeve shut her book and set it down. Reaching up with her right hand, she rubbed her eyes, the right one one first and then the left one, wiping away the stinging tears.
She heard hoofsteps again, but this time she did not look up, not wanting to show her face. She shook her head and allowed her hair to spill around her face, hiding it from view, no more embarrassing tears that could be seen as the maid walked by.
“Maeve?”
Sniffling, Maeve looked up when she heard Luna’s voice. “Oh Luna… there is so much to tell you… you were gone for so long.”
“Twilight and I had a nice time in the Crystal Empire.” Luna cleared her throat. “I am sorry if my departure caused you some distress, that was never my intention. I have felt bad this whole time.”
Brushing her hair out of her face and her eyes, Maeve saw Luna’s eyes focusing upon her wooden hand. “I don’t care that you were gone, but I am really happy you are back.” Maeve took a deep breath. “Do you know about Bjarke?”
“I have been spoken to briefly about him, with instructions that I am not to blast him into oblivion.” Luna’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose I should wait to pass judgment. How are you dealing with his sudden appearance?”
“I don’t know.” Maeve shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to feel about it. He knew my mother… I miss my mother.”
“So long as he is kind to you and does nothing to harm you, I suppose I will let him live. For now. But truth be told, I am not happy about the fae being here.” Luna tilted her head and looked at Maeve, her eyes going wide. “Your ears…”
“We’re not part of the fae… we’re part of something else… I can’t remember the name, I’m sorry.” Maeve placed her palms together and then touched her fingertips to one another. “This is all so overwhelming… Luna, I want to believe that he is good. He knew my mother. He’s family.”
“My goodness, have you grown taller?” Luna asked as she tried to size Maeve up. Luna watched Maeve give an enthusiastic nod. “Stand up, let me see you.”
Doing as she was bid, Maeve rose and brought herself up to her full height. She heard Luna gasp and Maeve felt a bit self conscious about her size. She wiped her sweaty right hand on the front of her blouse.
“Raw intimidation.” Luna craned her head back to look upwards. “You have grown several inches and have changed a bit.” Luna paused as she looked up at Maeve. “Would you like to go for a walk and talk about it?”
“I can’t.” Maeve shook her head.
“You cannot go for a walk?” Luna asked.
“I’m foalsitting,” Maeve replied. She lifted her wooden hand and pointed at her door. “Inside my room there is a sleeping filly named Fuschia. Leaving to go on a walk would betray both her trust and Princess Celestia’s trust in me.”
“So, my sister has enacted her grand plan to make you responsible… she has made you a foal sitter, just as she once did with Princess Cadance.” Luna smiled a wry smile. “You do realise that you are doomed, correct? I mean, you do know what happened to Cadance.”
“What happened to Cadance?” Maeve asked, a growing sense of fear creeping up her spine and making her shiver.
“Cadance proved to be a capable foalsitter,” Luna replied as she stepped forward. She extended a wing and brushed Maeve’s cheek. Luna felt a brief moment of sadness when Maeve flinched slightly at her touch. “When Cadance proved that she was a responsible pony, Celestia kept giving her more and more responsibility, more and more foals to look after, until at last, Cadance was made the foalsitter for the entirety of the Crystal Empire—”
“Oh no, I don’t want that!” Maeve gasped, covering her mouth with her wooden hand as she spoke. She backed away from Luna, the back of her knees hit the edge of the couch, and she fell back, sitting down. She could hear Luna’s soft laughter and Maeve struggled to recover her dignity, not that she had much.
“Too late.” Luna’s voice was one of playful teasing, but she did worry that Maeve might have a real sense of worry. Luna cleared her throat and became serious. “Maeve, you have powerful magic. You are a Sorceress, in very much the same way that both Twilight Sparkle and Cadance are Princesses. As such, you have obligations, duties, you have power, thus, you are obligated to do what you can with it.”
“I know.” Maeve’s voice was soft and her green eyes were locked upon Luna’s. “I get that. But it scares me. I’m a mess of a person, Luna. I can’t even hug others. I jump at the slightest sounds. I don’t know what I can—”
“You are fit enough to look after a filly, much as my sister said you would be. You are healing, slowly and over time. You are getting better. My sister believes you are showing improvement, and I believe that she is correct. You are.” Luna moved and then sat down on the couch beside Maeve. After a moment, she flopped down upon her side with her head raised up high. She folded her legs against her belly. “Talk to me, mine apprentice, and I shall turn mine ears to the sounds of your delicate voice.”
“You sound happy.” Maeve looked down into Luna’s face, wondering why Luna was being so poetic.
“I am happy.” Luna heaved a sigh and thought of Twilight Sparkle. The Crystal Empire had been lovely. “Tell me your troubles, and speaketh to me of the issues of thine heart.” Luna looked up at Maeve. “Also, your teacher bids you to put those fingers to good work. Scratch me behind mine ears, and your teacher will be most pleased.”
Unable to help herself, Maeve giggled and raised her hands.