Chapter 22
Staring down at her wooden arm, Maeve’s mind filled with a thousand different questions. She was both relieved by her uncle’s existence, and terrified of his presence. While he seemed nice enough, he was a man. Or was he? Bjarke was not human. Princess Celestia had quietly whispered into Maeve’s ear that she should give him a chance, because he was not human.
Maeve realised that she didn’t know who, or what she was anymore. She clenched her wooden hand into a fist. The bark was smooth and supple. It almost looked like beech bark—it was pale white and pleasant to touch. The place where the bark and the skin merged together transitioned in the most curious way.
Perhaps the most amazing thing about her new hand… she could feel everything. Running her fingertips over her skirts, she could feel the soft, smooth, combed cotton. She flexed her fingers and stared at them, wide eyed. She no longer had fingernails.
Bjarke was gone, off with Princess Celestia. He had bowed to her. Maeve found that she wanted to give him a chance… Bjarke knew her mother, and for that reason alone, Maeve was willing to risk dealing with her own hurts and the painful memories of her past.
Hearing a knock upon her door, Mauve paused. She heard a gruff voice say, “Sorceress Maeve, you have a visitor. Might he come in?”
Acting without thinking, Maeve made a gesture with her wooden hand, a come hither motion with her fingers. The door opened and Maeve saw a familiar red colt. She wobbled, feeling lightheaded, and then shouted, “Red!”
She lurched forward, clumsy as always, her now longer legs not helping at all. She sank down to her knees, banging them against the stone floor, and grabbed Red’s face in her hands, squeezing his cheeks. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Red, not used to Maeve being this grabby or affectionate, didn’t know how to respond. He stood there, looking up at Maeve, his amber eyes flashing. She was squeezing his cheeks, kneading his face as though it were made of dough, and truth be told, it kind of felt good. “I heard about Bjarke… one of the guards explained everything to me.”
Unable to help herself, Maeve wrapped her arms around Red’s neck and pulled his head to her chest, squeezing him, clutching him to her. She blinked, not realising that she had been crying, but now feeling the hot tears upon her cheeks. Leaning her head down, she kissed Red upon the top of his head, right between his fuzzy ears.
She sat down upon the floor, falling back off of her knees, sat crosslegged, and then pulled Red into her lap. For some odd reason, she was not bothered by having him close. She ran her right hand along his neck, feeling all of his muscles tense, and then she heard a giggle. Red was ticklish.
“You’re my best friend.” Maeve shook her head. “I don’t know why I missed you so much… you were just gone to your classes… but with everything that just happened… I needed you.”
“Your hand is funny,” Red said, trying to angle his head so he could see.
“It’s made out of wood now,” Maeve replied.
“What?” Red looked upwards, his muzzle bumping into Maeve’s chin.
“I’m not human… I can’t remember the name, but I am some kind of half elf… I don’t know. I don’t understand all of it. I am part tree spirit,” Maeve explained as she ran her finger’s though Red’s close cropped mane. After a moment of feeling Red’s silky mane, she let go of the colt, freeing him from her embrace. He was heavy in her lap and she realised that he had no intention of climbing out of her lap. He was staring up into her eyes with a look of fervent adoration.
It unnerved Maeve to see it.
Now feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Maeve didn’t know what to say as she stared down into Red’s amber eyes. She had to say something. “It is like some kind of fairy tale. I get whisked away to the land of evil fairies, I was forced to be their chambermaid, I escape from the evil fairies, and now I am living in a land of magical ponies, in a castle with magical pony princesses, learning how to be a Sorceress… and I have my helpful assistant… who is going to be an accomplished tea blender someday.”
Red nodded, his nostrils flaring. “My dad has the title Royal Gardner. I get to walk around the inside of Canterlot Castle. I’ve had tea with Princesses… and my best friend is a Sorceress. Sometimes I have trouble taking it all in.”
“Red, would you like to go out to the gardens with me? I think I need some fresh air.”
“I’d like that.” Red smiled and then with cautious steps, he climbed down from Maeve’s lap, backing away from her. “My mother was telling me about Fuschia. I don’t mind helping you if you have to foalsit. My mother says that we earth ponies have to stick together.”
“I wonder how she is…”
Wandering through the kitchen, Maeve filled her pockets with carrots and, using her telekinesis, filched a small box of raisins from off of the shelf in the perishable goods pantry. She noticed ponies staring at her—it made sense, she was even stranger looking now than she was, with the pointed ears and the tree arm. She was also taller, a good deal taller.
She emerged from the kitchen into the service hallway, a plain, unadorned corridor intended for castle staff. It was surprisingly full of ponies, far more than usual. An army of maids moved up and down the hallway. Furniture was being moved, hauled in small carts. Maeve remembered what Princess Celestia had said, that Prince Blueblood was coming home. Perhaps all of this hubbub was to prepare for his arrival.
Perhaps some of this bustle is for Bjarke, said a quiet voice in the back of her mind. Maeve watched as the maids and castle staff passed her by. Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, even a few of the strange bat-winged ponies that Luna was fond of; it took an army to keep this castle running. Maeve watched as the passing maids gave her a respectful nod and gave her a wide berth. Princesses, and by extension, Sorceresses, were supposed to use the regular hallways.
At an intersection, she hung a left, following the signs that said she was heading for the school custodial and kitchen section. This way was shorter and a far more direct route to where Maeve wanted to be. These halls were underground for the most part and were a straight, direct path to where one wanted to be. The main halls were rambling, looping back and forth upon themselves, built more for show and to display artwork than to be practical.
At long last, she came to another intersection and this one had a ramp leading upwards, useful for moving carts and other supplies. She emerged in the custodial area, which was full of all kinds of stuff as the school prepared to go into session.
After a bit of looking around, Maeve found what she was searching for. One very lonesome looking purple-pink earth pony filly. She was in the communal nursery, sitting by herself, off in the sleeping area, lying in her bunk. It was easy to see from her tear-stained face that she had been crying.
Maeve kneeled down and touched the filly, who had her eyes closed. “Hi there.”
“Sorceress?” Fuschia opened her eyes.
“Why are you all alone?” Maeve asked as she brushed the filly’s dark green mane out of her face with her fingers.
“Nopony wants to play with me,” Fuschia replied in a hoarse whisper.
“That’s not true. Red and I both came to play with you. Would you like to come to the royal gardens with us?” Maeve grabbed her skirts, lifted up the outer one, and then began to wipe the filly’s face, scrubbing away the eye boogers that were crusted up in the corners.
“Maeve, that’s a long walk from here for her… she’s a yearling,” Red said in a low voice as he looked around the sleeping area. “If I was taken away from my mother at this age I would have bawled my eyes out.”
“Colts don’t cry,” Fuschia said to Red.
“They do if you hurt them bad enough,” Red replied.
“I’ll carry her. I’ve carried her before—”
“You look different,” Fuschia said, interrupting Maeve.
“Yeah I do. I’ll tell you about it while we’re walking.” Maeve gave the filly a pat and began pulling her out of her bunk. She hefted the filly into the air and then propped the filly up against her chest, with Fuschia’s head resting upon her shoulder. Maeve felt a moment of panic; she waited for it to pass and as she did so, she felt two little fuzzy forelegs wrapping around her neck.
“Sorceress Maeve…”
Standing, rising to her full height, Maeve turned around. She saw a pegasus mare looking up at her. Maeve smiled and tried to look friendly—the pegasus mare looked alarmed.
“I was just coming back here to check up on Fuschia… she’s having a hard time fitting in. Some of the other fillies have been a little heartless. We’re trying to correct the problem.”
“I am taking Fuschia with me to the royal gardens.” Maeve patted Fuschia on the back with her free hand. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Oh, I think that is a fantastic idea. The royal gardens would be a wonderful place for a little earth pony filly to go and feel better,” the pegasus mare said in a warm voice. She stepped forwards, her head high, and smiled at Fuschia. “You be on your best behaviour for Sorceress Maeve, do you understand, Fuschia?”
“Yep,” Fuschia replied.
The pegasus mare, who came up to Maeve’s navel, took another step forward. “Do you remember your lesson in protocol?”
“Always use a proper title.” Fuschia looked down at the pegasus mare and rather enjoyed the view from where she was. “Be polite. Don’t burp in front of the royals.”
“Yes, good filly.” The pegasus mare stepped aside.
“I’ll bring her back in a few hours.” Maeve began to step forwards, but stopped when the pegasus mare stepped in front of her.
“Actually… Sorceress Maeve, if I might make a humble request?” The pegasus mare dropped her eyes down to the floor and dipped her wings, which almost looked like a curtsey.
“Just ask,” Maeve replied.
“School hasn’t started yet… so there is no good reason to bring her back. If you could find it in your heart to look after her, maybe let her spend the night with you, I think it would be good for her—”
“Oh, can I?” Fuschia wiggled in Maeve’s embrace.
“Not every night… just… occasionally. Just to give her a chance to be happy,” the pegasus mare said as she lifted her head and looked up at Maeve with pleading eyes.
Maeve didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know what Princess Celestia would want. Maeve realised that this was something she had to make a decision about—the wrong decision might mean trouble, or just a somewhat irritated alicorn.
“I could keep her for tonight.” Maeve’s lips pursed together. She was going to have to figure out where Fuschia was going to sleep. “I’ve never looked after a foal before. Is there anything I need to do?”
“She’ll need a shower or a bath,” the pegasus replied.
“No I won't!” Fuschia squirmed in Maeve’s grasp. “I don’t need a bath!”
“She’ll need to be brushed so she doesn’t get tangles,” the pegasus continued.
“I don’t need no brushing!” Fuschia snorted and rolled her eyes.
“And she’ll need to eat a sensible dinner.” The pegasus looked Maeve in the eye. “This is a pretty big responsibility. Princess Celestia tells me that you are more than up for it. Also, see that she brushes her teeth.”
“No! This won’t be any fun at all!” Fuschia kicked her hind legs and wiggled.
“Maeve, if you get into trouble, I can fetch my mother,” Red whispered.
“Good plan, Red… this is why you are my assistant,” Maeve whispered back.
“Good luck, have fun, and don’t bring her back until, oh, I don’t know… noon tomorrow. Maybe even after lunch.” The pegasus mare smiled, turned, and then trotted away.
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I've had this happen with my nephew... You gotta love it when their parents give you the "oh, can so-and-so come play for a bit" spiel and the kid doesn't leave til the next day XD
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6365747
Just Celestia. She had this planned before Bjarke even showed up, if you recall from previous chapters. She asked Maeve to foalsit.
I see Red's potentially self-destructive adoration might be coming along.
Maybe, due to ponies and magic, it won't be so bad...
6365865
Take a deep breath and repeat after me. "This will have a happy ending."
Edit: Whoops, double post. My phone is an unreliable commenting device.
The pegasus is princess celestia!
The pegasus is princess celestia!
I was wondering when this foal would return. And how much responsibility a foal is...