Maud did not love Rainbow Dash.
She did not know how to love.
She knew rocks. She knew how to fight. She knew how to combine these two things very effectively. She knew exactly how to crack open a crystal pony’s head, both in and out of its helmet. She knew the precise angle to punch her way through solid granite. She knew how to look at any one of her sisters and communicate what she wanted them to do without words.
She knew how it felt to come home from the quarry and see a plume of smoke spiralling from her house. She knew the sensation of splintering wood under her hoof and how it felt for a blast of pure heat to burn off her eyelashes. She knew the stink of cooking meat. She knew the green gleam of eyelets amidst yellow flames and the hot press of spearhead against her flank.
She knew vengeance.
Oh, how she knew vengeance.
She knew how to carve a perfect fifth headstone while Pinkie swept away the punched out rubble of the previous four. She knew how to maintain perfect stillness as Marble bandaged her seared forehooves and moistened the burns with her tears. She knew how to endure Limestone’s yelling and Pinkie’s deadened stare. She knew how to stare into an oncoming sunset without crying. She knew what it was to be the big sister, mother, father, protector, confidante, everything now.
She knew how to bid goodbye, over and over and over, even when ponies were long past hearing her.
She did not know how to talk to other ponies in a way that made sense to them. She knew that was Pinkie’s job. She knew how to quell Limestone with a look. She knew exactly how much pressure to let seep into a hug when she saw Marble across the medical tents. She knew how to look at dead and dying ponies in hastily constructed cots and harden her heart to their suffering to save herself from going mad.
She did not know what to make of the aerial corps when she first enlisted. She did not know the joy of wings. She did not want to. She knew the ground. She knew the earth. She knew rocks. That was good enough for her. She already knew the harsh reality of regime from a lifetime on the rock farm and translated that into training her body to granite-hard muscle.
She knew battle, eventually. She knew war. She knew courage and fear and what it was to combine the two. She knew how hard that could make a pony. She knew how to fashion armour from more than just metal.
She knew how soft flesh could be underneath it all. She knew the hardness of courage and fear could not protect a pony from swords or spears. She knew how to wipe bloody rain from her eyes and keep galloping towards the enemy. She knew how to dodge feathered bodies that fell out of the skies full of arrows. She knew how to leap right over a stallion coughing out his own lungs. She know how to vault over downed and rolling mares, and duck when their heads followed a half-second later. She knew how to run and punch and kick. She knew how to go back to camp afterward and count all her sisters without one flicker to show she had been worried.
She did not know how to scream a battle cry. She did not understand when she found a rainbow-maned pegasus giving a lesson to the corp. She did not see the point. She knew actions meant more than words. She did not comprehend the expressions on the younger pegasus’s faces when the rainbow-maned one yelled at them and they yelled back, louder and louder, until the whole camp rang with their cries. She did not understand how they could smile when they were done, like they had achieved anything at all.
“Tomorrow, let those stinking crystal ponies hear that and they’ll run crying for their mothers!”
Maud did not know why she stayed and watched the rainbow-maned pegasus joking with those she had just been yelling at. She knew she should have gone to get cleaned up. She knew the smell of blood in her mane made Pinkie ill. She knew her sister would have nightmares when they curled up that night if she did not wash it out first.
“Hey, what are you staring at?” demanded a huge white pegasus with stubby wings.
Maud did not know how to answer.
“Stop it. It’s creepy.”
The rainbow-maned pegasus turned to see what the commotion was all about. Maud did not know how to react when she met her gaze. The pegasus’s eyes reminded her of amethysts she had dug up as a child when she and Limestone uncovered a seam of gems and then fell into a sinkhole. Grampa and Father only just managed to get them out, each clutching gems bigger than their own heads.
“Can I help you with something?” The rainbow-maned mare tossed back her head, as if presenting her chin for Maud to punch.
Maud knew she got up and walked away, but did not know why she wished she hadn’t.
Maud knew Pinkie’s special smell. She knew the warmth of her sisters as they tangled up together under the blankets in their tent. She knew the comfort of familiarity. She knew how to sleep when they were nearby. Maybe not sleep without nightmares, but the deep and dreamless kind that is almost as good.
“Maud, what’s wrong?” Marble asked softly, long after midnight rolled clouds in front of the moon.
Maud did not answer. She had almost forgotten how.
“Why won’t you talk to us, Maudie?”
She knew she made her sisters cry. She did not know how to make it stop. She knew how to roll Marble into a hug but her hugs were jagged as slate and held no comfort.
Maud knew she should jump over that rainbow-maned pegasus when she fell out of the sky at her the next day. She knew she should carry on galloping towards the enemy. She knew it.
She did not know why she turned back and carried the injured pony off the battlefield instead.
She did not know why she thundered right into the camp, not stopping at her commanding officer’s yell, nor even when she galloped through the middle of a training routine. She knew she was making a scene, and knew rearing would make the scene bigger, bring more ponies, and spread word faster.
“Oh my gosh!”
“Is that-?”
“Is she even still alive?”
“Quick, call the medics!”
“Medic! Pony down! Pony down!”
She did not know why she waited outside the operating tent. She did not know why the agonised cries from within kept her rooted to the spot. She did not know why the silence, broken only by shuddering sobs, made her stomach clench. She did not know why she was still clutching the mangled remains of pegasus’s severed wing in her mouth, or why the doctor’s solemn headshake did not make her release it.
She did not know why she asked the unicorn scribes for parchment. She did not know why she spent long evenings scribbling, rubbing out designs, and then scribbling some more. She did not know why she wrote letters to far distant relatives, or why the condolences in their responses bounced off her like pebbles off an immovable boulder.
“Maud, come to bed. It’s late.”
She did not know why she ignored Pinkie’s requests.
She did not know why she went to the forge. She did not know why she had Limestone plead with her superior, the head weapon-smith. She knew her sister was confused. She knew her own blank expression did not help the situation. She knew that when she picked up the tools and went to work, using lessons her father taught her years ago when they mined ore, that she was the subject of much speculation.
She did not care.
She knew her body was battle-strong. She knew it wasn’t the kind of strength this work required. She knew she had to keep hydrated. She knew she was probably overdoing it. She knew she couldn’t stop. She knew only the endless folding upon folding upon folding of metal, strengthening and aerating at the same time. She knew heft and balance. She knew shape and form. She knew she could not stop, not for anything, not for anypony.
She knew when it was complete that she did not want to go to the convalescence section of the camp. She did not want to complete her wild-headed plan. She did not know it was even possible to describe herself as wild-headed. She did not want to see the hollow eyes of the ponies too injured to fight anymore. She did not want to step down those runnels in search of a rainbow-maned pegasus with eyes like rough amethysts.
She did not knock. She did not go in. She knew Marble would take care of what she could not do.
“Why in Tartarus would I want to see some stupid earth pony I don’t even know?” bellowed the voice from inside.
“B-because she came all this way –”
“Big deal. Tell her to get lost.”
Maud did not get lost. Maud felt like she was finally finding herself after being lost for a long, long time.
“What do you want? I told that nurse I didn’t want to see you.”
Maud did not speak. She did not explain. She did not flinch as she brought out what she had made and placed it on the floor between them. She did not react when the rainbow-maned pegasus inhaled sharply.
“Is this some sort of joke? I know you. You’re that pony who can punch through rocks. I never figured you for a practical joker.” The rainbow-maned pegasus spat the words like they were hot coals.
Maud did not shake her head. She did not leave.
“What the hell would I want with a metal wing!?” As if on springs, the rainbow-maned pegasus leapt from her chair. Her solitary wing spread wide, pinfeathers pushing apart like knives cutting through the heavy air. “It isn’t bad enough I can’t freaking fly anymore, you expect me to just sit here and take it while you freaking mock me!?”
Maud did not reply.
“Answer me!”
Still, Maud did not reply.
“Answer me, damn it! What in Celestia’s name are you playing at, you cruel piece of –”
“It’s special metal.”
Maud did not react to Marble’s small gasp.
“Wh-what?” The rainbow-maned pegasus faltered.
“Super lightweight. Aerated, like bird bones. Special metal. Sky iron. Very rare. I called in favours to get it. Fringed it to act like regular feathers. You’ll have to get used to the hydraulics. The harness will fit under your flight suit.”
Maud did not know why the blockage in her throat was suddenly not there anymore. She did not know why she was speaking. She knew her voice was rough with disuse, but she did not know how to stop now that she had started.
“You can do that. You’re strong enough.”
“I … you …” The rainbow-maned pegasus looked between the metal wing and her, uncomprehending. Her eyes had a wet sheen to them but she screwed up her nose, blinking her way back to clearness. “Why?”
“I … I … do not know.” At last, Maud wavered. “I wanted to see you fly again. You should be in the air. You’re not meant to be on the ground like me.”
The rainbow-maned pegasus stared at her. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Maud. Maud Pie.”
“I’m … I’m Rainbow Dash.” She advanced on the wing like it might bite her. “You’re sure this will work?”
“Reasonably. You’ll need to train with it first. It’s a prototype. One of a kind. I’ll need to work the bugs out as you find them.”
Rainbow Dash picked up the wing and held it – no, cradled it. She cradled it like she had never been able to cradle the ruined one Maud had buried out behind the training ground. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means.” She brushed savagely at her eyes. “No freaking idea.”
No. She did not.
“You’re welcome.” Maud did not look over her shoulder as she turned to go.
“Wait!”
She did not acknowledge the sudden thrill in her belly. “Yes?”
“I … never mind. I don’t know. Thank you. Again. Thank you so much, uh, Maud. I … I guess you’re my freaking hero, or something corny like that.”
Maud did not let Marble follow her. She did not stop running until she reached her own tent. She did not stop breathing like her heart would burst until Pinkie came to find her, having heard about her madcap rush through the camp.
“Maudie?”
Maud knew Pinkie’s hugs were special. She did not know how they were special, just that they were. In another world, perhaps one of Pinkie’s hugs would have been enough to heal her heart a long time ago. Or maybe the pressure of Pinkie’s forelegs would have just shattered it in her chest like shale, shredding up her lungs so she stopped breathing and all her messy emotions went away where she didn’t have to think about them anymore.
“Pinkie,” she whispered.
“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay, Maudie. It’s okay.” Pinkie’s voice was thick. “It’s okay to cry.”
“What? I’m not –”
She did not realise until she touched her own cheeks.
“I don’t know … Pinkie, I don’t –” Maud did not manage to say more than that before she could not say anymore.
“Oh Maudie…”
In the days that followed, Maud did not go back to the forge. She did not write anymore letters. She left the ones that arrived for her unopened. She did not let herself think about Rainbow Dash again until the mare herself pushed aside the flaps of the Pies’ tent and marched inside.
“You need to show me how to use these freaking hydraulics.”
Maud did not tell her no.
Maud never told her no.
She did not ever tell Rainbow Dash she was too busy. She did not make excuses. She did not shy away from what she had started – though, in truth, she did not fully understand what she had started.
She did not stop when Rainbow Dash was tired. She did not let up, even for a moment.
“If you don’t master the wing, you’ll fly, but you’ll die.”
Rainbow Dash lay in a tired heap in the middle of the training grounds. It was dark and everypony else had retired for the night. She barked a volley of curses at Maud, wincing as she got back to her hooves and swayed with fatigue.
“I do not want you to die,” Maud said, soft even for her. “I do not want you to go away.”
Rainbow Dash froze. “Can’t say it’s on my To Do List either.”
Maud did not break the tension that had sprung up between them. Punches did not break tension and she knew no other way to break things.
“Once more around the grounds?” Rainbow Dash sighed wearily.
“Yes.”
Maud did not let Rainbow Dash rest more than was necessary. She knew Marble worried about the strain, but neither Maud nor Dash herself were willing to give less than their best. At the end of each session, Maud did not offer to let Rainbow Dash lean on her as they left the training grounds, but did not push her off when she slung a hoof over her shoulders for support.
She did not ever push her off.
She did not stop putting on her armour on the morning of Celestia’s Army’s next offensive. She did not need to look up to know who had entered the tent.
“I swear, if you come back dead, I’ll freaking kill you,” Rainbow Dash growled.
Maud did not smile. “Can’t say it’s on my To Do List.”
She did not stop Dash when Dash leaned in and kissed her. She did not know what it was to be kissed until then. She did not understand how to reciprocate. She did not know how to tamp down the melting iron sensation in her stomach.
“You call that a kiss?” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Freaking amateur.”
Maud did not want to stop kissing her that second time.
She did not want to go into battle that day.
She did not want to risk not coming back.
Yet she did not falter as she took her place in line. She did not look back. She did not hesitate during the charge. She did not waver as she crushed crystal ponies’ skulls through their mangled helmets. She did not stop when she saw the dark king himself on the battlefield. She did not veer aside. She did not lose sight of him as he raised a wall of pure crystal that separated his forces from Celestia’s. She did not hesitate in trying to punch her way through his barrier.
She did not stop Dash yelling when she came back on a stretcher with her foreleg broken in three places.
“You’re a freaking idiot, you know that? You could have been killed! Or worse!”
Maud did not object as the medics slid her onto an examination table and tended to her wounds. She did not struggle to get down and go back to work. She knew Pinkie had arrived from the frantic cries but did not call for her to come and witness her big sister’s wounds while they were still being bandaged up.
“They sure took a chunk out of your mane,” observed a blue unicorn with a wand cutie mark. “I can close the wound but I don’t think you’ve been able to grow hair back here again.”
“I hated long hair anyhow,” Maud rasped. It sounded like something Rainbow Dash would say. She did not know why that pleased her so much.
She did not know why waking later to find Dash had snuck into the medical tent did not bother her. She knew she should call somepony, that Dash holding her unbroken hoof was probably a bad idea, but all she could do was look at Dash’s slack, sleeping face.
She did not know why the pain in her leg seemed to dull more than even the drugs could facilitate when she woke in the actual morning and saw her sisters and Dash all curled up together on a bench.
“Maudie?” Pinkie raised her head, eyes round as pebbles. “You’re … smiling.”
“Freaking idiot,” Dash murmured from somewhere beneath her. “Freaking family. One of you farted last night and nearly gassed me to death.”
Maud did not stop. Maud could not stop. Maud would not stop smiling.
“Never picked you for somepony to laugh at fart jokes, Maud.” Rainbow Dash extricated herself and padded over like it was her right. She paused, hoofsteps faltering for a heartbeat. “Wow … you’re … you’re actually kind of pretty when you smile.”
“Are you calling my sister ugly?” Limestone demanded.
“Can it, poison-butt, before I punch your lights out.”
“Like a punch from some namby-pamby pegasus could knock out a Pie!?”
Maud did not stop smiling even when Dash and Limestone started up an argument that summoned the nurse on duty to shoo them all out.
She did not love Rainbow Dash.
She did not think ‘love’ was enough of a word.
Maud Pie knew rocks. She knew how to fight. She knew battle and courage and war. She knew they all might die tomorrow. She knew Sombra’s Army would come back again, and again, as many times as it took to wear down Celestia’s ponies.
But after so long, Maud Pie finally knew happiness.
