Maud Pie Falls in Love with the Narrator
Maud wasn’t always the quiet, intellectual, renaissance mare she was the day she met all of Pinkie Pie’s friends. No, there was a time when she was joyful and happy and laughed. She even smiled on more than one occasion. She smiled, rolled in the mud, and rejoiced in her sister’s party passion. Maud was, in fact, a spirited pony that nopony would ever mistake for not being Pinkie Pie’s sister. But what happened that made her so reserved, so quiet, so… mysterious? The answer is simple.
She fell in love.
Love is a beautiful, fragile thing. Like a flower, except you can't eat it. Unless you're a changeling, then you can. Love is weird like that. Then again, so is friendship. I mean, friendship is magic. I mean, who cares about studying ancient tomes and lore when you can just hit people up on Hoofbook and MyStable (which is so dead even I haven't heard about it, whatever that is). Speaking of which—
"I'm trying to paint," Maud deadpanned as she lifted the brush in her mouth. It was more of a mumble, I admit, but creative license makes things much more clearer to the reader. There Maud stood, taking in the spectacular view of her rock farm, so she could paint yet another masterpiece. Her palette was full of fresh paint, ready for when she would mix them to create gray, grey, ash gray, and a grey a little like the first. Even with a somewhat limited range of colors, Maud knew she would create another masterpiece. She was a master painter, the best of the best, one that even the Greats would be in awe of. She was—
"Oh stop it, you," Maud said, the corner of her lips creeping up into a smile. Her cheeks were a rosy red, if roses were made of stone. It was kinda cute really, as if a statue could blush. A beautiful statue, worthy of being set in a museum—"I mean it, stop!"
I apologize. Hearing this, Maud nods and continues to paint, ignoring me.
Oh my, where are my manners? What kind of narrator gets distracted by his love—
"Ahem," Maud coughed, glaring into the distance. Being a being outside of perceptible existence, I could not be glared at. However—okay, point taken. Back to what I was saying...
Pardon me, audience, but allow me to start the story properly. Properly, as in the beginning.
~woohoo transitional image~
It started on a dark and stormy night. Why? Because a lot of stories start that way. Don't call it cliche, it just happens. Stories start on bright and sunny days, or nights where the ocean is calm and smells like spilled table salt and vinegar. Stories have to start somewhere, and you probably read it before. Stop being such a critic! Though, I do admit, some are more exciting than others. Like stories that start on the day of the apocalypse, now that's exciting!
"Who ARE you?" a small voice screamed in the dark corner. To the naked eye, it would appear that what should have been a bed in the corner was actually a fort. On closer examination, it would look exactly the same. It was kinda obvious like that, being a bed fort and all. You were a kid once, right?
Maud peaked out of the fort, her teeth chattering and her eyes darting to and fro. She looked for the invisible monster in the shadows, the monster that would snatch her up the moment she set a hoof on the floor, drag her under the bed, and gobble her up. The monster hiding in the closet that would grab her mane with sharp, strong claws and drag her to the dark recesses of the closet and her doom. Or maybe—
"S-stop it! You're scaring me!" Maud screamed as she dived up the collapsing fort. She hugged a pillow and dug her muzzle into it, sobbing in terror. She cried more pleas for something to stop, but it went unanswered. The nonexistent monsters would not answer, neither to ease or amplify her terror. After all, they were only products of her imagination. They—
"Wait, r-really?" she sniffed, looking up from her position. She peered into the shadows, narrowing her eyes, only to see various toys and clothing strewn across the bedroom. To her, they appeared to be monsters. But now, as her eyes adjusted, they could be seen for their true form. Useless trinkets, nothing more. Nothing to be feared. "Thanks, mister!"
Her cry went unnoticed, since there was nopony in the—
"But you're here! I think? Where are you, mister?" she said to nopony in particular. It wasn't like anyone was in the vicinity, capable of hearing her speak—"Seriously, mister. I can hear you. Please come out? You're starting to scare me..."
She pouted, puffing out her bottom lip and sniffing at approximately once every three seconds to maximize the potential cuteness factor present in adolescent foals as a safety mechanism against predators. Surprisingly enough, it works.
Wait.
Maud, can you hear me?
"Yes!" Maud clapped her hooves together. "Are you one of the nice invisible ponies that Pinkie talks about? Are you going to play with me too and teach me special tricks?"
I, uh, suppose. This wasn't really in the job description... then again, this wasn't a job. What exactly is this anyway?
So, then, I began to talk to Maud...
"Yes, mister, I get that. Why are you talking about yourself in third pony?"
Sigh.
~hey look another convenient transition because I can't think of more stuff to talk about wooo~
"Soooo, you can hear them, too! Ohmygosh now we can throw invisible parties! Well, we're not invisible but they are so it's totally still cool! Do you wanna throw a party? Do ya do ya do ya?"
"Yeah!" Maud finished the rock candy necklace for her sister. After the final thread, she picked it up with her teeth and slipped it onto her little sister's neck, giving her a tiny nuzzle. "Though, it does get kinda annoying."
"What do you mean?" Pinkie said, scratching her mane. To the fillies' knowledge, they heard different voices entirely. Pinkie Pie never responded to this narrator, nor could the other supposed narrators interact. Even so, Pinkie Pie remained the bright child of the Pie family. Maud preferred to keep to herself, despite having a similar gift.
"That," Maud said, jerking her head to reference the invisible voice. As much as I tried explaining I was merely a narrator narrating a story, they still referred to me as an "invisible pony." I mean, I don't even have a body! At least, I don't think I do. Maybe I'm just asleep, or I'm an angel. Can I be an angel like Celestia? Is Celestia an angel? It would explain the whole celestial reference, the white wings, and the fact her magic deals with the sun and heavens. Or—
"He talks soooo much," Maud drawled, rolling her eyes. "He never shuts up, and constantly talks about stuff that doesn't matter! It's so annoying!"
"Is that why you're so quiet?" Pinkie Pie said, cocking her head. "Do you not talk a lot because everypony is talking so much so you just kinda sit there with a blank look on your face and pretend to listen but keep thinking, 'oh my gosh, I don't have to be here,' like, all the time?"
"Uh, yes."
"Okay! I'm so happy we don't have that problem! YAY!"
They hugged.
And it was cute.
~random time skip weeee!~
"So, Maud, you thinkin' of asking somepony special to the Super Duper Special Spooktacular Halloween Dancey-Wancey?" Pinkie Pie asked, bouncing down the row of rocks as Maud stomped them in half. Maud bent down and bit down on a rock, chewing as her mind pondered the implications of her desires. Growing up with a special friend of hers had led to, well, special feelings. No point in showing how it developed, it just happened. Love is a flower, but not all flowers bloom slowly. Sometimes a flower blooms overnight, or when you aren't looking. Life is a garden, but every flower is different.
"Y-you know?" Maud looked up to the skies as her cheeks flushed. "You knew the entire time? W-why didn't you—"
Hush, my dear Maud. Would it be right to force feelings from a teenage mare? Do you not remember what happened when poor Pinkamena became of age and went through her "edgy" phase? I'm sure you remember the black spandex, don't you?
Maud shivered, no doubt memories of anti-rock bands and their "music" polluting the home of the Pies. Maud loved rock, and rocks, but anti-rock music was drawing the line.
"I get it!" Maud screamed to the heavens, or namely me. "But I can't ask you, alright? You're not even—"
Maud, please. Please, don't go there. I-I'm sorry...
"Wait, I didn't mean it like that!"
...
"I'm sorry!"
...
"Please..."
Maud broke down and began sobbing on the ground, unable to bear her friend through the ages disappearing. It had been the first time in years I have silenced myself like so, to not tell the story, and it had frightened her. But the very act of narrating, which I happen to be doing now, brought a tearful smile to her face. I had forgiven her.
"Thank you!"
You're welcome, Maud.
"Who are you talking to?" one of their sisters said, walking by as she dragged a rock across the field. The unusual duo shrugged as the filly walked past. "Weirdos..."
~the scenes are getting progressively shorter so that means the story is coming back to the present soon woot woot~
"Narrator..." Maud sat at the checkerboard-tablecloth table, leaning on her forelegs and closing her eyes in an alluring stare. Well, she always looks like that, but this was extra alluring. Oh wait, that's my cue.
Maud...
"Narrator..."
Maud!
"Narrator!"
The other ponies in the incredibly fancy restaurant, or as an average-at-best cafe in laymare's terms, stared at Maud as she screamed toward thin air. Ignoring the invasive eyes boring into her privacy and soul, Maud continued to scream.
"I love you!"
I, uh, I-I love you too, Maud.
But we can't be together.
"Why not?"
Because, Maud, I can't hug you. I can't kiss you. I can't hold you at night when you have a nightmare, meaning I can only watch. Do you know how hard it is to watch the mare you love toss and turn in her sleep, crying and screaming in terror as her own mind devours itself into darkness? Maud, you need somepony who can take care of you. Not a lifeless hack like me...
"That's not true!" Maud said, slamming her hooves on the table, accompanied with her saddlebag. She opened the bag and began to search inside it. Once her hoof hit something solid, she gasped. "Besides, I have just the thing!"
Slam!
She waved her hooves over a rock; a hard, sedimentary cryptocrystalline form of the mineral quartz, categorized as a variety of chert. It was the most beautiful rock ever seen in existence, and one Maud prized greatly. She had found it after much searching, to finally present it now.
"See?" Maud giggled, holding up the rock. She puckered her lips and planted a kiss on the rock before setting it down. "I can kiss you now, sort of. Like Boulder, but you!"
Oh my.
~and finally, Marty, we're coming back! To the future~
And that's where our story leads us, and unfortunately to the close. For after all, all stories must end. Eventually.
Maud spat out her paintbrush, her tail arching in surprise. "WHAT?" She turned around, looking toward the sky as if I was an angel speaking from the heavens. "Where are you going? Are you leaving me?" Her lip quivered as her eyes began to water.
I'm sorry, Maud, but I have fulfilled my role. I was to tell a story, and unfortunately we are at its end. The force that controls me, the hands of the universe that binds me to its will and guides me along the path, has ceased its desires and wishes to rest. Maud, I have to go. I do not wish for this, nor do I want to leave you behind. But I must.
"Please! Don't leave me!" Maud sat down and held her head, sniffing between sobs. She knew it was pointless, and only sobbed more as I said the previous clause in this very sentence. "Please..."
I know it is sudden, but you will heal. Time will heal all wounds, Maud.
"Please... I l-love you..."
I love you, too...
Author's Note
Think very carefully about this.
Read the answer here.
