Crimsondrop hadn’t moved by the time Whiterobe returned home, her visit from Princess Celestia had been a short and –to her- heartbreaking encounter. Stranded. She was stranded, unable to return home to those she knew ever again. She would never again taste the magic-rich greenery of Nagrand, or partake in the pure spring waters of Hyjal…
Oh, sure, she would likely be far safer here than she ever was there, but… What is life without a little thrill? Sure, she’d spent her life in fear of ending up dead, or worse. Normally ‘or worse’ would be a somewhat poetic way of stating that there could be something worse than death, but being killed and resurrected as one of the Lich King’s undead minions was undoubtedly worse than simply dying.
She didn’t want to be here for the rest of her life. Forever here in this world, what was it that the Princess had called it? Equestria? Granted she’d not given it a chance yet, but she shouldn’t have to. She shouldn’t have to re-learn what was safe and dangerous, shouldn’t have to make new friends simply because the old ones were completely out of reach, she didn’t want to learn her way around another world. Wasn’t one enough?
She barely acknowledged when Whiterobe entered, wanting to stew in her depression.
Whiterobe, conversely, hadn’t seen anypony this depressed in all her years as a professional Nurse. Crimsondrop seemed not only distant but vacant, like she had literally let her mind go out for a walk. Her eyes were blank and unfocused, and her breathing deep and slow as if she were asleep. The fur on her face was streaked with tears, and she lay partly in a damp spot on the bed where she had cried enough.
She considered only leaving again, to let her have her privacy, but she had to change her bandages lest they become too heavily soiled and stick to her skin, which would only become more painful to remove, possibly even causing the stitching to pull. She sat down next to the bed and sighed, gently tugging the blankets back to reveal her patient’s body.
She’d noted it before that Crimsondrop looked particularly strong, her muscle tone was impressive and looked somewhat out of place on her frame. She looked more like one of the Royal guards than a working nanny.
Whiterobe’s horn glittered and the gauze bandages wrapping one of the smaller wounds on Crimsondrop’s body started to release its hold, quietly shifting as it unwrapped from her body and curled into a roll and was dropped into a metal bowl on the bedside cabinet. She would clean these gauze rolls in the washing machine for later re-use.
The whole time she unwrapped and cleaned the wounds on Crimsondrop’s body, she barely shifted, or made any sound. She seemed aware of Whiterobe’s actions, and did shift a little to give her better access to an injury that was practically over her spine. She just didn’t seem to care anymore otherwise.
Until, of course, Whiterobe got to the last, and largest of her injuries.
The wound had been almost six inches long, and Whiterobe had accidentally made it deeper when she had been shaving the area around the wound, stretching it a little. Still, it had been stitched shut like all of her other wounds, and Whiterobe had expected it to be healing as well as the others. Instead, as she removed the gauze wrapping it, she noticed that the cotton pad was more soiled than the others.
When she pulled the pad off, Crimsondrop yelped loudly in pain and tugged away, fresh blood now rolling down her thigh. The stitching had held, but the wound beneath was bruised worse than Whiterobe had seen in years, not since one of the weather team’s Unicorns had crash-landed through Citrus Squeeze’s orchard.
Whiterobe startled a little and turned her head, grabbing a large wad of tissues from a tissue box and forcing them to the wound.
“Clanky! Get my kit and a bowl!”
Crimsondrop only looked over at Whiterobe worriedly.
“W-what happened..?”
The look Whiterobe gave her was unnerving. She was worried about this odd turn of events.
“The wound has bled enough to cause a cavity and a bruise of a very… vibrant purple.” She said. “I had hoped that your muscles would be tight enough to keep it closed, but it would seem that you were bleeding more than I anticipated. I’m going to have to remove your current stitches, drain the wound and re-stitch it.” She gave Crimsondrop a sympathetic tap on her shoulder with her hoof. “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt,” she said as Clank Clop hurried in with a large medical kit in his teeth and a bowl on his back, which his wife took with her magic. The kit clicked open and Crimsondrop could see a dozen differently shaped needles for sewing glint in the light. “It’s going to hurt a lot.”
Whiterobe hadn’t been lying. It did hurt. It had been so painful that Crimsondrop had twitched and yelped, being held down by Clank Clop so that she didn’t hurt herself or move too much. The bowl had filled with a substantial amount of her blood, and Whiterobe made sure to get every stray drop she could before putting the bowl to one side and wiping down the wound with an antiseptic liquid.
It had stung the wound so bad that Crimsondrop had fallen into pained tears, hissing as it was rubbed around her wound.
When Whiterobe apologised and drove the needle and thread into her thigh, she remembered screaming.
Clank Clop pushed a large wad of hardened fabric into her mouth, making her scream cut off suddenly.
“Bite down on this, Crimson; please, it’ll be over soon.”
It took nearly four minutes of stitching and muffled screams for Whiterobe to finish, by which point Crimsondrop’s mind had blanked out. She stared vacantly at the wall, only brought back to reality when Whiterobe tugged her up from her laying position into a hug, her own face streaked with tears. Crimsondrop noted her tears; it had obviously pained her considerably to have caused so much agony to her guest. Weakly she hugged back.
“I’m sorry, Crimsondrop, I had to!” She half-shouted to her, “I couldn’t leave your wound like that. Please, I’m so sorry!”
She only nuzzled back into Whiterobe’s neck. “I-it’s alright, I… y’ did what y’-y’ had tae.” She breathed, her voice hoarse from screaming into the fabric. “Th-thank y’ fer everythin’.”
Whiterobe moved slightly. “I-“
“Y’ didn’t have tae do anythin’ tae help me, but y’ did; both you and your husband ‘ave put yourselves out fer me, and I’m sorry if I become a burden.”
“Don’t worry about that, Crimson;” Clank Clop said as he tugged his wife back from her hug. “Just try and get some rest.”
She nodded faintly, shifting a little as Whiterobe wrapped her up with fresh gauze and a cotton pad.
“We’ll be back to re-dress your wounds in the morning; try and get some sleep, okay?” Clank Clop said as he and his wife moved to the door. Crimsondrop only nodded, and he smiled. “See you then.”
****
Clank Clop and Whiterobe dawdled into their kitchen having just spent a couple of minutes cleaning the blood from Whiterobe’s hooves and front. Whiterobe was still somewhat shell-shocked from having caused that much pain to another pony, and she absent-mindedly almost sat on the table as she stared into space. A knock at the kitchen door drew their attention, and Clank Clop opened it gingerly.
He stepped back and opened the door fully, allowing Princess Celestia to step into the kitchen.
Whiterobe snapped back to reality and bowed respectfully as Celestia cleared the doorframe and stood by the table.
“P-Princess, I’m sorry, we weren’t-“
“It’s fine, Whiterobe; this is somewhat an unscheduled return to follow up my original unscheduled visit.” She said calmly. “I was in a meeting with the mayor and heard screaming, so I would assume something was amiss involving your guest upstairs?”
Whiterobe seemed a little disturbed at the Princess making such an obvious referral. “Y-yes, Princess, something I missed when treating her originally developed a … slight complication.”
“I see.” Celestia replied, hers a practiced poker-face of calm. “And the screaming?”
Whiterobe scratched the back of her neck worriedly, unsure of how far into detail she should go. “I… had to add new stitches. Unfortunately I’m not allowed to take any anaesthetic from work, and I'm terrible with sleeping spells... I had to sew while she was…”
“I understand.” Celestia said, cutting her off. She’d easily noticed Whiterobe’s head lowering sadly and some fresh tears appearing at her eyes. “It must have been very hard.”
“I’m trained to do no harm.” Whiterobe said distantly. “What I did… I could have put her into a vegetative state for days. It goes against everything I’ve been brought up to do. I just… I had no time, if I’d taken the time to take her to the hospital, she could have gotten an infection, but instead I’ve caused her so much pain…”
Celestia sighed and looked down at the floor. “It is, by comparison, far less than I have done.” She mumbled.
“P-Princess..?”
“She is stranded here, Whiterobe; there is nothing within my, or any other pony’s power that can send her back where she came from without killing her. Imagine what that is like, the loneliness alone… I can only imagine what…” she drifted off faintly, as if considering something that had troubled her for some time before she returned her attention to those in the room around her, “in any case; I was here to inform her of that earlier.”
Whiterobe stared at the Princess with her mouth slightly agape, unsure of what she was hearing.
“I… I’m impressed it did not break her soul.” She mumbled.
“Whiterobe, I must inform you of exactly what kind of creature you have in your home;” Celestia said as she sat down on one of the table’s cushions. “While I do not consider her dangerous, she does have some rather… worrying potential.”
Whiterobe’s undivided attention now landed itself on Princess Celestia, and the royal smiled faintly.
“Crimsondrop is a creature from a place which, while not unlike our own, is still somewhat different. Her home world was assailed by powerful and dangerous creatures, and their abuse of the planet’s magic inevitably caused it to tear itself apart. The magical fallout from this explosion caused the world to have dramatic effects on its remaining inhabitants.
“I trust you noticed how magic has barely effected on her when you initially attempted to heal her wounds? This is because, while she is a type of goat, magic is so ingrained into her body that our magic will have little, if any, effect on her. It took a great deal of concentration for me to implant her understanding of Equestrian language into her mind and to alter her voice to enable her to speak.
“To further the torment on her, she comes from a world where violence is a way of life; she may have never been exposed to direct conflict, but hers would naturally be a flighty species. She may find it difficult to make friends or trust ponies; she may even have difficulty eating the foods which are very much a staple of Equestria’s diet. I am unsure if she needs to eat magic-infused foods to keep up her body’s supply, or if she naturally produces her own like we do. She may even be capable of using magic like horned Equestrians can, but I have not seen any indication.
“Crimsondrop is… afraid, Whiterobe.” Celestia mumbled. “She’s alone in a new, strange world, and she is unsure if it is as hostile as her own is. She’d frightened and confused, her only knowledge of our world so far is pain; while I cannot send her back to her own world without causing it, if she doesn’t find a reason to stay here she may bring about her own death.” Celestia gave Whiterobe a most imploring look. “Please, Whiterobe; this might be more stress onto your already burdened shoulders, but I ask you to give her reason to stay in Equestria.”
Whiterobe nodded exasperatedly. “Of course, Princess; If there’s anything I can do to help her, I will.” She said. “After all, it’s how I was taught.”
Celestia smiled cheerfully. “Thank you, Whiterobe; I would have gone to my personal student for this, but I felt it required a different touch.”
“Is there anything else, Princess?” Clank Clop asked from behind her. “Any… preventative measures I should be considering?”
Celestia chuckled as she stood and turned. “No, no, I assure you she will be no trouble once you get her to trust you.” She said, heading to the door. “I have you all booked to the New Ewe spa here in town tomorrow; Phony Paige mentioned that she had been unable to get a booking for you all, so I made arrangements.”
“Y-you didn’t need to go out of your way like that Princess…”
“It is quite alright; I didn’t go and make the bookings personally, I sent two guards who found that, not only were the bookings free for the next month, but that they were intentionally not letting Paige make a booking. Consider it a thank you for taking the task of helping Crimsondrop.”
Whiterobe and Clank Clop bowed to her as she moved to leave. “Thank you, Princess.”
Nodding, Celestia started to walk out the door. “If you get into any trouble, let Paige know to send a report to CL0PTech detailing the issue, and I’ll send some guards to help. I thank you, again, for taking the task of helping Crimsondrop, Whiterobe; I know this will not be easy.”
After saying these words, Celestia stepped out of the kitchen and moved through the house, coming to rest outside Crimsondrop’s current room. She stood outside the door, observing her as she slept.
“I’m sorry, Crimsondrop.” She whispered, “I truly am.”
****
Crimsondrop awoke the next morning with the sun shining in on her face. She shifted and raised her head, looking about the room blearily. She didn’t question her mind as to where she was; the pain she had been through the night before was too fresh in her mind to allow her to forget. She groaned painfully and rose from the bed, gasping in pain as she put weight on her right hind leg. She looked back at her leg, moving it a little to see where it would hurt to put it and how much weight she could shift to it before she limped out of the room.
She shambled down the hall and to the upstairs bathroom she had been in before. While only half-awake, one thing had made itself irritatingly aware to her, and now she intended to relieve at least that irritation. The door opened when she reached it and Clank Clop looked back out at her in surprise.
“Crimson! I didn’t expect you to be awake yet, let alone up and about! I don’t think that White’ll be happy you’re putting weight on that leg,” He said.
“’Mornin’, Clank Clop; c’n you move so I can use th’ little filly’s room?” She asked with a slur, her mouth not waking up with the rest of her easily.
He hurriedly moved from the door into the hall. “Oh, yes, of course.”
“Thank you.”
“When you’re done using the facilities, I’ve something to teach you about living here in Equestria, okay?”
“Alright.” She replied sleepily before closing the door behind herself.
Clank Clop waited in the hall for a moment or two, allowing her the privacy she needed before the door opened again. He’d observed her limp on the way in worriedly, but had simply chalked it up to the previous night’s worrying episode. Of course she’d be stiff and in pain this morning. He knew, having lived with his wife for as long as he had, that her trip to the bathroom first thing in the morning was nothing unusual as well. She stepped into the hall and he nodded to her, motioning her to go back into the bathroom.
“Alright, back in.” He instructed, moving in past her and to the bathroom sink. “We’ve a spare in the cabinet, so it should do…”
“Spare what?”
She closed the door as he opened the cabinet over the sink, pulling out a yellow toothbrush. Crimsondrop only looked at it sceptically as he squeezed some toothpaste onto the brush.
“It’s a toothbrush.” Clank Clop said, holding it out to her.
“Okay.”
“We’re going to clean your teeth with it.”
“Okay…”
Clank Clop sighed. “I’ll show you how, but you’ll be expected to at least twice a day, in the morning when you wake up and at night before you go to bed. No offense, but your breath could do with a little… freshening up.”
Crimsondrop hadn’t taken well to the toothpaste, but she did assure Clank Clop that she would brush her teeth every morning and night. She found herself returning to her room and staring at the bed distantly, gazing at the blood and tears that had stained the sheets. Her mind roamed over what had happened to her the day before, the Princess’s visit, the pain… She didn’t notice when Whiterobe entered, too lost in her own mind.
“Crimson, what are you doing out of bed? You should be resting that leg!” She worriedly snapped. It had all the sharpness of a soggy twig, but she did snap for what she could.
“I was woken by th’ sun,” She said quietly. “And then, after usin’ the ‘facilities’ as your husband put it, he showed me how t’ brush me teeth.”
“Well, at least that’s got that out of the way.” Whiterobe mumbled under her breath. “Well, alright; but stand still, I’ve got to change your dressings.”
Crimsondrop did as she was told and stood as still as she could as Whiterobe removed her gauze wrappings, checking her injuries before wrapping new fresh cotton onto the wounds. She double checked the largest wound on her thigh, ensuring that it had sealed correctly before wrapping it back up. The whole while, Crimsondrop just stood and stayed quiet, only once making a sound as the bandages slightly compressed the wound on her thigh. Whiterobe made a mental note to grab some oils from work that made wounds less likely to scar.
After she finished wrapping the wounds, Whiterobe took the bowl the slightly dirtied wrappings rested within in her magic and carried them from the room, taking them down to the laundry. She returned to Crimsondrop’s room to find her tugging at the sheets.
“What’re you doing?”
Crimsondrop let go and blushed shyly, though with her reddish coat it was hard to make out. “I… I didn’t want tae leave them dirty…” She mumbled apologetically. “Is… is tha’ wrong?”
Whiterobe giggled faintly and shook her head. “No, no, it’s just nice that you thought of doing it at all, especially in your state.” Her horn glittered and the sheets on the bed started to remove themselves from the mattress, pillows and duvet. They rolled into a bundle and Whiterobe carried them from the room. “I’ll take these to the laundry and we can put them in to wash while we have breakfast, I’ll see you down in the dining room.”
Crimsondrop sniffed the air curiously as an aroma made itself known to them. “What’s that..?” She asked hungrily.
With a smile Whiterobe replied. “That, Crimson, is called Baked Beans on Toast.”
****
Crimsondrop made her way into the dining room, sitting at one of the cushions and waiting for Clank Clop to bring out their breakfast. She’d taken a while to get here on her stiff muscles and wounded thigh, almost falling down the stairs once and causing her to freeze halfway down before attempting to continue. She’d felt that she could only have been more embarrassed if someone had been watching her.
Soon Whiterobe joined her at the table, sitting nearby and eyeing her curiously.
“So how do you feel this morning, Crimson?” She asked. "We... didn't really have much time to talk before..."
“Stiff.” She replied with a lopsided frown.
“To be expected I guess, you did take quite a beating.” Whiterobe said idly. “Well, we’ve got a trip to the spa in town booked for later today, about eleven, so you’ve got three hours to yourself before we head out. We’ll arrive there early, but we’ll be expected to for them to get ready for our party of nine.”
“Nine? That’s… a lot ae… what word d’you use?”
“’Ponies’, hon.”
“Won’t th' ponies runnin’ the spa be a wee bit… irritated tha’ yer takin’ nine ponies there all at once?”
Whiterobe shook her head with a cheeky smile. “Not if the booking was made by a royal guard.” She said.
Crimsondrop would have asked her what she meant by this, but Clank Clop entered with their collective breakfasts and distracted them.
A couple of bowls of oatmeal, three plates of baked beans on toast, and a trio of glasses filled with orange juice all balanced precariously on his back. He turned to grab the large platter when his wife sighed and her horn glittered, levitating the platter and putting it in the middle of the table.
“The oatmeal is for you and Crimson,” he began as he sat down, his wife moving the food about the table. “We each get the toast and orange juice.”
Crimsondrop watched patiently as the food was distributed amongst them, tilting her head curiously. She’d seen Whiterobe do this stuff before, but…
“How… are you doin’ that?”
Whiterobe looked over at her as she put the last of the orange juice glasses down.
“Magic.” She said matter-of-factly. “It takes young Unicorns many hours’ worth of practice to learn to levitate things using their horn’s magic. As we grow up, we become better at it, and the objects we can lift can be heavier and heavier as we work on it. I work on precision mostly; I used my magic to sew your thigh up last night. Hooves can get purchase, but… they’re not exactly built for fiddly work.”
“If you like we could get you a spoon to see if you can use magic in the same manner?” Clank Clop asked. “If not, it’s not like anything… breakable will be involved.”
Crimondrop shrugged a little, not really thinking his query over. “I don’t see what harm it could do.”
Whiterobe smiled encouragingly as her own magic brought a teaspoon in from the kitchen, leaving it neatly beside Crimsondrop’s plate. The goat considered it.
“Most Unicorns have a natural, innate ability to use their magic, much like Pegasi can naturally use their wings.” Whiterobe explained. “You’re somewhat a special case, so… I don’t quite know how to start. For us it’s just a feeling that accompanies our thoughts at older age, but when we’re colts and fillies it’s more like stretching a muscle within our heads. Try… I don’t know, picking up the spoon by thought alone?”
Crimsondrop nodded and stared down at the spoon. Her mind rolled through a wide spectrum of different strange feelings, one of which felt like she was looking at herself from outside her own body, before she slipped past one which made the spoon glitter faintly.
She stopped in pleased surprise, and concentrated on that feeling again. Whiterobe was right; it was like stretching a mental muscle. The spoon glittered and rattled about on the table a little before slowly levitating up about a foot.
Not wanting to leave it there, Crimsondrop slowly but surely made the spoon rotate in place or move in different directions, the actions becoming easier with each passing moment until she could manage it without having to put much concentration into it at all.
Whiterobe heard her husband laugh and looked up to see Crimsondrop eating her porridge with the spoon, and the red nanny gave her a cheeky look from across the table, the two ridged horns jutting from her temples glittering the same faint white as the spoon.
Whiterobe smiled to her cheerfully.
“You’re starting to fit in already.”