Maelstrom

by QQwrites

Six

Maelstrom’s apartment was spacious, with carefully placed furniture. The foyer led to a hallway, with a door to the kitchen on the left, and bedrooms on the right. At the end of the hall was the living area and office, which sported wide windows, their curtains drawn closed.

“Hello?” I called, uneasily. “Director?”

The apartment was totally quiet. The wall scones, which I recognized as magical in nature, were lit. Their soft glow illuminated the hallway. I slowly crept along the hall, turning first to look in the kitchen, then to the bedrooms. I paused at Maelstrom’s room. There was a four-poster bed with the heaviest comforter I’d ever seen. There were bookshelves along the walls, practically overflowing with volumes, tomes, periodicals, almanacs, encyclopedias, and whatever else she could cram in them. No knickknacks, just books.

I stopped to inspect a number of picture frames in the main hallway. In one, a large family. It took me a moment to find Maelstrom among the crowd. She looked the oldest, next to who I assumed were her parents. They looked happy, if not a little tired (I counted six younger children, to a total family of nine—sheesh).

She was laying on a couch in the living room, wrapped in two or three blankets. A book had fallen on the floor and an empty glass sat on an end table. The record player was spinning, but the music had long ended; the arm automatically returned to its proper resting place. I could hear her breathing. It was raspy and uneven, punctuated by short bursts of coughing. I placed a hoof on her forehead and found it hot and noticed for the first time she was shivering as if cold.

I came into the uncomfortable realization that I was technically an uninvited guest. My instinct was to make myself scarce: Maelstrom may not be pleased to see me. What if someone else showed up who was supposed to be here? Then again, how could I leave her?

It’s hard to explain what kept me there. I felt something: a need to act. I can’t describe it.

Leaving my hat and coat on a nearby chair, I left for the kitchen, stopping only to close and lock the front door. It took a few moments to find a washcloth and bowls (there has yet been a scientific study on the proper placement for kitchen items, though if it exists, it may very well be in Maelstrom’s bedroom/library).

I set the wetted cloth on her forehead and put the record back on. I pulled a chair up to the couch where I could easily rinse the cloth and check on my patient. The record started: a slow melody carried by a cornet. I leaned back in the chair, my eyes closed—I swore for only a moment—and slept.

I awoke some time later to darkness and a protesting stomach. I drew open the curtains to let in the moonlight. I turned on one of the living room lamps as well, just to be safe. After changing her washcloth, I wandered into the kitchen to scare up something to eat. Unfortunately, Maelstrom and I seemed to have the same bad habit in common: empty pantry, lots of takeout boxes in the cold box.

As I gathered my coat and hat with the intention of raiding an all-night diner, I heard a rustling from behind me. I turned to see Maelstrom kicking off all but one of her blankets. She turned to lay on her side, but the sudden movement seemed to set off a coughing and sneezing fit.

She was awake now, hacking and struggling to find something other than a blanket to clean up with. I handed her one of the washcloths. She blew her nose as I helped her sit up. For a few moments, she didn’t really notice I was there: I was a tissue dispenser and that was what she needed.

Realization slowly crept into her cold-addled brain. Once she had gained enough composure, she spoke: “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly self-conscious, I found it difficult to speak. There was my original reason: to cover my flank against any weird rumors. It occurred to me that being found in my boss’s apartment in the middle of the night was probably more conspicuous than anything Raine or the rumor mill could come up with.

Then there was the other reason: because I didn’t feel like I could go.

I was still struggling to explain that feeling from earlier. I imagined being lost at sea, without an ore, or compass, or stars. I aimlessly drifted without purpose until Maelstrom gave me one by making me her assistant. I’d become her satellite and without her to orbit, I was cast aimlessly into the void.

“I came by for work. The door was opened. I found you here, with a fever.” I then stumbled through my conversation with Raine, though I was careful to leave out the bit about Raine’s attitude needing a kick in the teeth.

“Somepony must be upset she did an end-around with that report,” Maelstrom said in a raspy voice. I got her a glass of water and sat in the seat next to her.

“We could move her to ALERT,” I suggested. The Active Long-range extra-Equestrian Reconnaissance Team (or ALERT) was as a special air group who monitored the borders of Equestria for weather phenomenon entering the country. The EWS commonly assigned troublemakers there because they worked alone and far away from the home office.

“That would be a waste, Quill,” she continued after a good blow of her nose. “Raine is talented—and she knows it. But, she’s difficult to work with: willful and stubborn…” she continued on, but I got lost in my own memories:

Memories of losing jobs in the past. I wondered how many of my old bosses had this very conversation about me: “He’s good, but…” Now, I was on the other side: having the conversation which would decide an employee’s—a pony’s—fate; just like the ones that decided mine.

Those outcomes drove me to the bottle, out of my parent’s home, out of Manehatten, from town to town for years until I got the help I needed to pull it together, until finally Maelstrom. I can’t blame it all on those choices, but they were there: festering in the background, coming to the forefront of my mind now.

And here we were, deciding someone’s fate. It made a sour taste in my mouth. As much as she antagonized me, could I really help bring an axe down on Raine?

“…what do you think, Quill?” she finished. I hadn’t been listening.

Author's Note:

Seven goes up 2018-05-03

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

Where are all the characters tags?

[QQwrites]

8889564
All of the characters in this story are original (at least that was intended). I'm pretty new to FimFiction; can you tag original characters?

[A_Storyteller]

8889912
You can put the "OC" tag that stands for "Original Characters".

It will be interesting to see how Quill will behave in the next chapter :)

Cheers