“Are you sure that’s everything, darling?” Rarity asked as the last suitcase floated into place.
“Yes,” Maud said.
“And there’s nothing else that you require?”
“No,” Maud said.
“Are you certain?” Rarity glanced around. She had the odd look on her face. It was one Maud was familiar with. She’d seen it often enough, recently. It didn’t bother her, most of the time, though it could become tiresome to be the object of so much concern and pity.
“I’m certain,” Maud said.
“Because I’m at your service for whatever you need, Maud.”
“My dresses are all in the suitcases?” she asked.
“Of course, darling. Dry cleaned and freshly pressed.” Rarity hesitated. “I did take the liberty of adding two new ones. It was difficult for me to…” she cleared her throat delicately “…duplicate your, hm, most unique style, but I assure you I stuck strictly to your comforts.”
“I see.” Maud carefully parsed the language Rarity was using, and even noted the phrases she paused on and emphasized. “You didn’t need to trouble yourself.”
“Oh, but I insist, Maud!” Rarity’s eyes brightened cheerfully. “Consider it a welcome home present.”
“Okay. Thank you.” It made Rarity happy to do things for other ponies. Maud didn’t mind making her sister’s friends happy.
“You’re quite welcome, Maud. After all you’ve been through…” Rarity cut off suddenly, sucking air through her teeth. Maud glanced at her. Some ponies could be so afraid to talk about certain things. It didn’t make sense. “Anyways, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll leave you to get settled back in.” Rarity glanced about Maud’s cave. “I must say, darling, you live in one of the most charmingly unique locations in all of Ponyville. I’m truly in awe of your, hm, natural decorating style.”
“Ponyville adjacent,” Maud corrected. Rarity hesitated, then nodded slowly.
“Y-yes, Ponyville adjacent,” she agreed. “Well. I hope you know if you need anything at all, I’m only an adjacent town away. All our friends are ready to help however we can. You need only to say the word.” She turned to trot up the ramp that led to the cave exit.
“There is one thing.” Maud called just as Rarity was about to leave.
“Oh? Whatever can I help you with?”
“How is she?”
Rarity’s eyes went distant and soft. She breathed out a long sigh.
“That’s… complicated, darling.”
“Complicated?” Maud sat down on her bed. She still tired quickly. Rarity’s lips pursed with concern; apparently she’d noticed.
“Yes, complicated,” she sighed. “Obviously you know how hard all of this has been on her. But since you’re doing better, and you’re home now, she’s happier than ever. But…”
Maud raised a single eyebrow. Rarity’s eyes widened a little, and she shrank back from Maud.
“B-but she’s been taking this really hard.” Rarity sighed. “We’ve all been keeping an extra eye on her.” Rarity reached out and lightly patted Maud’s shoulder with a hoof. “I know how close you two are, so we’ve all been doing our best to keep her spirits up, so she could do the same for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Y-yes, well, I really should be letting you rest. I’m sure you have all sorts of projects and experiments to catch up on after all those weeks. Unless…” Rarity glanced around, looking distastefully at the layer of dust that had accumulated on many of Maud’s belongings. “Darling, I’d be happy to tidy up in here for you.”
“Tidy up?” Maud shook her head. “Oh. No thank you. I’d like to study how in the absence of pony presence, natural aeolian processes have affected the movement of rock particulates in my home.”
“Wha?” Rarity was slack jawed. Maud had to remind herself that many ponies didn’t use accurate and descriptive language.
“I’m going to study my cave dust.” She simplified. It made her uncomfortable. There was so little detail in vagueness.
“I… see. Well, I shall leave you to it, then,” Rarity moved to the exit again.
“Rarity. Where is Pinkie Pie?”
Rarity froze, and didn’t turn to look at Maud. “W-well, darling, I don’t suppose I know where Pinkie’s at right now.” She sounded nervous. Sometimes ponies got nervous around her. “I imagine she’s at Sugar Cube Corner.”
“Where is Pinkie Pie?” she repeated. Sometimes ponies got more than nervous when she repeated herself. Indeed, Rarity herself had once described the process as ‘lighting a fire in her eyes’. Maud didn’t see it, but she trusted Rarity’s judgement when it came to social interaction.
“I-I told you I don’t know, Maud!” Rarity turned towards her. She sounded a touch offended, but there were ways to tell when a pony was hiding something. The stammer was evidence, but there was also the way she wouldn’t meet Maud’s eyes, and the slight flush in her white cheeks.
“Rarity.” Maud said, as Rarity’s eyes widened further. She stood up and walked closer to Rarity. “Pinkie Pie should be here. She is not. Where is Pinkie Pie?”
“I p-p-promised!” Rarity stammered. “I can’t t-tell you! It was a Pinkie Promise!”
“Oh. Okay.” Maud sat back down.
“That’s it?” Rarity blinked
Maud nodded. “You made a Pinkie Promise. I would never ask you to break that.”
“Well, of course not, Maud.”
“Also it means that she’s planning something.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Rarity’s voice became sing-song, and she looked more confident. Probably because Maud had stopped repeating her question. But why wouldn’t she? Nopony went up against a Pinkie Promise. Nopony understood that better than Maud. She decided to let the obvious fabrication pass. She was used to the well-meaning deception, after all. Pinkie wasn’t that good at it, but she did it all the time anyways when planning one of her surprise parties.
“Okay. I’ll just wait to find out, then.”
“You do that, darling.” Rarity’s eyes softened once again. “I meant what I said earlier, though. If you need anything at all, please let me know.” Her ears perked up suddenly. “Oh! I almost forgot. Since you’re supposed to be taking it easy for a few days, Pinkie has arranged for one of us to bring you dinner each night.” She laughed lightly. “And don’t you worry for a moment. We made sure it was more than just cupcakes and whipped cream.”
“I wasn’t worried.” Maud watched her hesitate again. She didn’t always understand why the things she said made other ponies pause or look uncomfortable. She just said exactly what she meant, after all.
“That’s good, then. Starlight will be by tonight with your dinner.” Rarity smiled softly. “It’s so good to have you back with us, Maud.” She finally slipped out of the cave, leaving Maud alone.
Maud waited a few moments before standing up. She was a little more tired than she would have liked to admit. Clean bill of health or not, the body could only take so much strain. She let herself rest for a while before trotting over to the chest where she kept her equipment. Her suitcases could wait for now; she had dust samples to collect. She brushed a few months’ worth of cave dust off the top of the instrument case, reminding herself that there were other surfaces to collect samples from.
Inside, she found some of her most important instruments. She carefully selected a pair of airtight sample cases and a simple brush. She inspected them for cracks and breaks, and, when satisfied, began moving slowly about the room, collecting samples of the dust that had accumulated. She’d be able to learn quite a bit about the way air circulated about her cave, about how deeply the wind penetrated, and the effects of wind erosion. It would be a good way to ease herself back into her work.
For a while the only sound she could hear was the soft swish of the bristles against the hard surfaces of her home. After a while, though there was something else. A hissing sort of tingle, like a hundred bells.
No.
That’s exactly what it was. Sleigh bells. What an odd thing to hear at the tail end of summer. She glanced towards the entrance of her cave, listening carefully. Just over the sound of the bells she could hear the tones of her very favorite soprano.
It’s a Hearth’s Warming in August
And though our hearts are cheered
The love we feel’s the strongest
Even though the timing’s weird.
Maud had never heard this song before. That was not too surprising; her sister was uniquely talented at inventing music.
Even though our fun’s been shoved back
We’ll still have lots of joy
We won’t sing about the setback
Or its…
“…mean, stupid, meaneypants, rude, jerky McJerkface naughty hospital words!”
Of all of Pinkie’s Hearth’s Warming songs, this one sort of fell apart at the end. The rhyming and the cadence came completely unhinged, and she’d even stopped singing in order to spit an increasingly angry string of invectives. Maud started up the ramp to greet her sister, when she felt the familiar tingle of her Maud Sense at the back of her head.
Maud Sense Input Number Eleven: Potential Pinkamena Event. Threat Level: Yellow.
That made her pause. Threat level yellow was not the worst, but it was not great. She hurried up the ramp.
Pinkie was just arriving, hooked up by harness to a traditional winter sleigh. Rather than floating gently on a blanket of snow, however, it was lifted up on a set of four wheels, attached clumsily to the sleds via nails, silver tape, and even some crimson gift-wrapping ribbon. The wheels creaked and rattled as the sled bounced over the forest floor.
The sled itself was piled high with brightly wrapped presents, a small Hearth’s Warming tree, and even a pair of pies. On top of one of the presents sat Gummy and Boulder, each wearing a red felt hat topped with a white pompom.
Pinkie was dressed the same, wearing her own red velvet dress lined with white faux fur, complete with her own conical pointed red hat. Maud had caught her just at the end of her little rant, so Pinkie’s face was full of anger. As soon as she laid eyes on Maud, though, she screamed in joy, lurching out of her sleigh harness and launching herself into her sister’s arms.
“HAPPY HEARTH’S WARMING, MAUD!” she yelled cheerfully as she squeezed Maud as tightly as possible. Maud knew that Pinkie often had to restrain herself when hugging other ponies, but she never had to with her sisters.
Still, Maud did let out a small grunt, which made Pinkie let go with a mild blush.
“Whoops, sorry,” Pinkie giggled. “You’re probably still…” a glazed sort of look crossed her eyes for the briefest second, before she shook her head violently. “Never mind.”
“Pinkie. It’s August.”
“Of course it’s August, silly. Did you think I forgot?” Pinkie laughed. “Oh, and did you see who came with me to wish you a happy holiday?” She pointed dramatically at Boulder.
“Is it Boulder?” Maud asked.
“IT’S BOULDER!” Pinkie cackled gleefully, and Maud trotted over to the sleigh, picking up her dear pet and nuzzling him to her cheek. “He helped me put all this together for you!”
“I’ve missed you,” Maud whispered to him. “Did you have fun with Pinkie?”
“Oh, we had a blast!” Pinkie grinned. “And he was so well behaved! Boulder really is a fantastic pet!”
“Yes he is,” Maud agreed, carefully placing Boulder in the dress pocket where he usually liked to rest. “Can I help you haul these inside?”
“No, silly Maud!” Pinkie was mock-affronted. “Gummy and I will get them! You’re supposed to be resting, you just got out…” Her eyes shot wide, and her mouth snapped shut like a steel trap. Maud’s Maud Sense tingled again.
Maud Sense Input Number Eleven: Potential Pinkamena Event. Threat Level: Yellow/Orange
“You head inside, I’ll bring all this down!” Pinkie’s voice had an oddly nervous squeak to it. Maud was starting to understand what Rarity had meant about things being complicated. With a shrug, and a quick pat to reassure herself of Boulder’s presence, she trotted back down into her home, with Pinkie bouncing along behind her. A stack of presents balanced on her back, defying all scientific explanation.
Maud had long ago realized that gravity and physics simply worked differently around Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie plopped the presents down beside Maud’s bed, then with an excited grin, disappeared up the ramp again. Over and over she hauled down her bounty of holiday goodies until everything was set up, including the small, decorated Hearth’s Warming tree complete with twinkling lights.
“So, Pinkie. It’s August.”
“You said that already, Maud,” Pinkie giggled. “What’s your point?”
“Hearth’s Warming is in December.”
Pinkie froze, her grin becoming glacial as all the joy behind it evaporated.
“Usually it is!” she cackled. “B-but I thought since you were… busy… during Hearth’s Warming and couldn’t come be with the family, I’d throw you one now!”
Maud Sense Input Number Eleven: Potential Pinkamena Event. Threat Level: Orange/Red
Maud Sense Input Number Ninety-two: Alligator drool on a pet rock. Threat Level: Ongoing
Maud reached over and gently removed Boulder from Gummy’s mouth, replacing him in her pocket. She didn’t know how he’d gotten out, but when Gummy was involved, sometimes it was best to not ask too many questions.
“Pinkie. I didn’t miss Hearth’s Warming because I was busy.” Her Maud Sense was an urgent claxon in her head now, letting her know she was in danger of a serious Pinkamena incident. But she pushed forwards. Pinkie had to get through this, somehow. Still, she could at least try to ease the subject in. “Why are you doing this, Pinkie?”
“Do you wanna have some pie, or should we skip right to opening presents?” Pinkie asked, laughing nervously as she completely ignored the question. Maud looked at the pile of presents, then back at Pinkie. They could talk while she opened presents.
“Presents are fine.” She grabbed the top one.
“I didn’t get these all myself, you know,” Pinkie said, a cheerful grin stretched thin over an imminent collapse. “I had help from Mom and Dad, and Limestone and Marble. Even Starlight and Trixie chipped in. This one’s from them.”
Maud slowly inspected the cylindrical object, wrapped tightly in metallic blue and violet paper. Fitting. She carefully pulled the wrapping paper off.
“Oh. A Prismasky brand reel with line guide, ratcheting action, and comfort grip.” She turned the tool in her hooves, eyes widening slightly. It was the pinnacle of kite reel technology and had probably cost Starlight and Trixie quite a bit. “Wow.”
“Did you see the note?” Pinkie was bouncing. Maud blinked slowly, until she found a small note attached to the reel and began to read out loud.
“Dear Maud. We can’t wait to get out and fly kites with you again. Congratulations on being in full rem—”
“Next present!” Pinkie shrieked, shoving a second package into Maud’s hooves. It was tremendously heavy, wrapped in nondescript brown paper and twine. It rattled a bit when she hefted it. “This one’s from Limestone and Marble!”
Maud opened it, revealing a small tub full of a dozen brown and grey rocks, each one just a little smaller than a hoof. Maud paused a moment, glancing at them. Geodes. Probably black calcite, though at least one or two looked like they may be amethyst. Interesting.
There was also a note inside this one, written in Marble’s tiny hoofwriting. Maud picked this one up to read, as well.
“Merry Late Hearth’s Warming, Maud,” she read. “We would have liked to send these to you in the hospital, but the doctors didn’t like the idea of a bucket of rocks in a sterile environment.” There was a postscript in Limestone’s more hasty scrawl. “P.S. Make sure to kick some sense into Pinkie, would you? She’s been acting weird ever since you were diagnosed with ca–”
“MOVING ON!” Pinkie was panting and trembling. She ripped the note out of Maud’s hooves, tossing it frantically aside, setting another present in Maud’s hooves. “This one’s from—”
“Pinkie.”
“—from Mom and Dad. I didn’t wrap it, so this one’s a surprise even for me!”
Maud sighed. “Okay, Pinkie.” She opened the small beige wrapped package to reveal a small Barnyard Bargains gift card, with the amount ‘three hundred bits’ written on the side in her mother’s hoofwriting. It warmed her more than she would have thought; her parents were eminently practical, and knew she’d need a bit of help to get back on her hooves after an extended hospital stay.
“This one has a note too,” she remarked. Pinkie’s eyes shot wide with fear.
“We don’t need to read any notes, we can save that for later!” Pinkie lunged for the note, but Maud spun, jerking the note out of her reach and causing Pinkie to bounce on the bed behind her. “Maud!”
“Pinkie. I’m going to read the note.”
“O-or we could skip the notes and presents and just eat pie!” Pinkie rushed around to where she’d sat the pies. “I made a pumpkin and a pecan. Which one would you like to start with?”
Maud Sense Input Number Eleven: Potential Pinkamena Event. Threat Level: Red
It was time to put a stop to this, or bring it to a head. “Pinkie. I don’t want to eat pie just yet.”
“Than maybe we can sing Hearth’s Warming songs?” Pinkie reached into her mane and snatched out a small glockenspiel, complete with a festive pair of white-and-red striped mallets.
“No songs, Pinkie. No pie. No more presents.” Maud steeled herself. This was going to be difficult. “I have a friendship problem that needs solving.”
“Friendship problem?!” Pinkie perked up. “But wait, my butt’s not buzzing.”
“Not that kind of friendship problem, Pinkie.” Maud gently took the glockenspiel and mallets away from Pinkie and set them down. She then firmly but gently guided Pinkie to the bed, setting them both down together. “You’ve been having a really hard time with all of this, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Pinkie sang, her voice quavering on the edge of a precipice.
“You can’t say the words. You won’t even let me say the words.”
“What words?” Pinkie asked innocently, before her eyes shot open wide. She’d realized her mistake, but Maud wouldn’t let her correct herself. She put a hoof over Pinkie’s lips and spoke.
“Words like sickness. Hospital. Doctors. Chemotherapy. Cancer.”
The floodgates burst. Liquid exploded from Pinkie’s eyes in a cascade of wailing sobs.
“That’s b-because those are all t-terrible awful n-no g-g-good words and I hate them I hate them all I hate it I hate them all!” Pinkie’s voice crescendoed into an incoherent scream.
“Pinkie. They’re just words.”
“NO THEY’RE NOT!” Pinkie screamed. “They’re MONSTERS and they ALMOST TOOK MY SISTER FROM ME!”
Maud pulled her tight in a hug, as Pinkie sobbed into her shoulder. She held her sister there, shaking and whimpering, as minutes passed. The river of tears began to slow.
“Would you like to know the first thing I felt when I got my diagnosis?” Maud asked. Pinkie sniffled, but Maud felt her nod. “I felt so helpless. I felt like there was nothing I could do to fix things. To make things better. All my studying, my rocktorate, everything I’ve learned and done, would mean nothing.” She gently stroked Pinkie’s mane. Thankfully, it still retained its springiness, though it was perhaps a little limp and dull. “You’re feeling the same, aren’t you?”
“I have been the whole time,” Pinkie whispered. Maud nodded. “I just couldn’t do anything at all.”
“You’re wrong,” Maud shook her head. “Look at all of this.” She gestured slowly with a hoof, taking in the tree, the presents, the pies. “It gave me strength, to know that there was a Pinkie party waiting for me when I got out. A ‘Congratulations on Beating Cancer’ party.”
“But… this is a Hearth’s Warming in August party,” Pinkie sniffled.
“Is it though?” Maud asked. “It’s very conveniently timed on the day I came home from the hospital.”
“P-pure coincidence!” Pinkie protested.
Maud held her out at hoof’s length, staring into her trembling, overflowing eyes. “Pinkie. I want you to say, ‘Maud, this is a ‘Beating Cancer’ party’.”
“M-Maud,” Pinkie sniffed loudly, and took a long deep breath. “This is a ‘Beating C-C-C…” she whimpered. “I can’t.”
“You can.” Maud insisted, squeezing Pinkie’s shoulders with her hooves. “You’re so strong, Pinkie. You’ve done so many impossible things. When I was at my lowest—” she glanced down at the catheter scar on her chest, a permanent souvenir, “—your strength kept me going.”
Maud locked eyes with Pinkie again. She held her, firmly in both hooves. For a moment she felt as if she were trying to channel strength into her sister, filling Pinkie with confidence and relief.
“I want to share some other words with you, Pinkie Pie,” Maud said. “Words like recovery. Remission. Release, and relief. Those words are possible because you gave me strength, Pinkie.”
“But… I didn’t visit as much as I should, I didn’t come by, and when I did I wouldn’t say the words, just like you said—”
“One of the first things I had to learn was that it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to mourn.” Maud smiled very slightly. “I knew you were scared, Pinkie, but you gave me strength anyways. Thank you. And thank you for this ‘Hearth’s Warming in August’ party.”
Pinkie sniffed, and the first real, genuine smile Maud had seen from her in a long time split her muzzle. It was small, and would need some serious nourishment, but it was a beginning.
“Hey Maud, wanna know a secret?” Pinkie whispered. “Don’t tell Gummy, but it’s not really a ‘Hearth’s Warming in August’ party. That’s just what I told Gummy and Boulder so they wouldn’t be scared.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It’s a ‘Congratulations on Beating Cancer’ party.” Pinkie admitted, giggling. “Welcome home.”
