The shrill whistle of the kettle sounded loudly in the kitchen, the steam flowed outward to resemble a heart. The high-pitched noise was quickly silenced as Octavia removed the pot from the stove and poured the concoction into a prepared mug that sat upon an elegant plate.
With years of practise, Octavia picked the plate up gently with her mouth and headed towards her room with the very specific herbal tea. She gave a polite knock against the wood frame as she looked toward the heavily bandaged occupant sitting upright in her bed. Octavia always liked her privacy, she chose to have tinted windows in her bedroom to give herself a place away from curious eyes. She was far more thankful now that she has a rare houseguest that may cause something of a panic if seen.
“Good morning.” Octavia said. Taking the silence as the usual sign of greeting, she trotted into the room and placed the tea onto the bedside table. She then pulled forward the basket that was stored beneath the bed. “Time to change those bandages.”
Octavia unwrapped and rewrapped the changeling while she attempted to make some small talk.
“Your carapace is coming back, though it is a bit later than Nurse Redhart predicted…”
“I hope you’re not too bothered by Vinyl’s music, she was really trying to keep it quiet, but she gets so antsy
when it’s too quiet for too long…”
“Have you heard about the new changeling advisor in Canterlot? Apparently he represents one of the other hives and is looking to help any deserters that attacked the Canterlot a month back…”
Octavia continued to speak while she hoped for some type of reaction from her guest. But he continued to stare blankly at the air in front of him. He only acknowledged her presence when she aided him as he drank his tea. “Now that your shell is growing back, it will only be a few more days before you can get out of bed. Perhaps go for a walk and see Ponyville?”
The changeling continued to stare at the wall.
Octavia refused to let her frustration show as she held in a heavy sigh. She gathered the refuse and turned to leave the room, but not before she said, “May I have your name?”
With the slightest twitch, the changeling turned his head away from the wall and looked outside.
"Refuses to even look at me, but at least he acknowledges that I’m here." Octavia thought. At least it was an improvement.
Vinyl casually sipped her morning coffee at the table as she tapped along to a beat that Octavia believed to be part of a constant party going on in her head. He stopped as Octavia entered the kitchen. “Soooo did he say anything today?”
“No.” Octavia said. Her mouth then turned into a tight smile. “Though he did turn away when I asked for his name.”
“So he went from being a dunce to an ass. Good to hear.” She cackled.
Octavia’s smile turned to a grimace. “Progress is progress Vinyl. I will take whatever I can after a week of him staring at the wall.”
“He can at least tell you his name. Calling him changeling all the time makes me feel like he’s our prisoner.”
Octavia bit her tongue from telling Vinyl how right she really was. "He is a prisoner, just not to us." “In any case, I want to make sure our guest doesn’t starve so I am going to visit Redhart to get some more tea.”
“Fine, leave me alone with a strong, capable stallion in your bed. He might force me to sacrifice my supple virgin body...”
“You have been saying that for the past week, and like always you will be fine.” She opened the door to a bright and beautiful morning. “Please, we both know that you are hardly a virgin.” With those parting words, Octavia closed the door behind her, happy to get the final word at her roommate.
As she turned around her nose was assaulted by the pungent smell of fresh paint. Her neighbors across the road wanted to celebrate the coming of summer by having their entire house painted professionally.
Slap “Oy! Watch it ya dunderhead!”
Octavia only wished that that they made a better choice about the company in their employ.
“Who you calling dunderhead?” One stallion rebuked.
“Me you nincompoop!” said the other.
“Hey, you aren’t a dunderhead and he isn’t a nincompoop. Your both ignoramuses.” said the mare.
The brawl that ensued had the three painters frantically waving their forelegs around as they attempted to slap some sense into each other. One fellow got a good size hit underneath his chin, it brought his flank down hard on a board with a nail sticking out in all of its tetanus spreading glory.
The resulted yelp made the stallion practically rocket skyward, the brush was tossed away so he could voice his displeasure. The brush twirled high in the sky, end over end, droplets of green paint flickered onto the ground. All three painters stopped their bickering and watched their tool fly through the sky in an awed trance. With impressive accuracy, it arced over the road as the paintbrush made an extremely audible slap against Octavia’s bedroom window.
All three painters shamefully turned towards the mare that owned said window. Octavia waited for them to collect themselves as they shuffled towards her.
“Gosh, real sorry for that Miss Octavia.”
“Don’t worry about the mess.”
Knowing that they will take responsibility for their actions, Octavia opened her mouth to thank them-
“We’ll clean that up right away.”
“That won’t be necessary.” She said rather curtly. Octavia chided herself internally at the flicker of hurt upon their faces. “My apologies, I did not mean to sound rude. What I mean to say is that you don’t need to worry about such a small fleck of paint. I would not want for you to waste your time on such a trivial task when you still have so much work to do.” Everyone looks back to the half painted house, the newly painted half shined brightly with a nauseating green coat while the other half still had the decades older yellow coat, discoloured after absorbing so much sunlight after decades of use.
“You sure?”
“Of course, I won’t make your day longer than it needs to be.”
“Thank you Miss Octavia.” They said in unison.
She bid them farewell and left to them to their work, though she could hear them as they continued to verbally
assault one another under their breath. She continued on to Redhart’s home, returning each cheerful hello with a nod of her head or a small smile. Her mind was steadily returning back to the near incident outside of her home.
Not that there was anything wrong or illegal with having a changeling as a guest, but ponies would be asking questions, questions that weren’t in her best interest to answer yet. Or at least until she gets some answers of her own.
Octavia finally arrived at a modest home and gave the door a polite knock. With quick click the door was pulled open by a mare that Octavia has visited several times over the past few week.
“Hello?” Redhart said with an off smile, her mane was spread out across the back of her neck, free from its confinement of the usual bun. She rubbed her eye with her hoof, “Oh hi Octavia.” Redhart beckoned for her to come in. “It will just take a moment for me to gather this week’s supplies for the patient.”
Octavia crossed the threshold as the door clicked shut behind her. She took her place on the couch as Redhart continued to talk. “Any updates on his condition?” she asked worriedly.
“Yes. He does show a physical response, but he has yet to say anything to Vinyl or I.”
There was some shuffling in the kitchen. “That isn’t a good sign.”
Octavia’s ears twitched. She did not like Redhart’s tone.
Said pony entered the room with a plastic bag that was strained against it elasticity with the amount of supplies inside. Redhart did not meet Octavia’s eyes as she placed the bag on the ground. “Octavia I know you want to help but it would be best for him if we report him to Bureau of Changeling Relations.”
Octavia gave the nurse her most assuring smile, but she could tell that Redhart was not fooled by it. The couch seemed unusually uncomfortable, like her haunches were assaulted by pins and needles. “I hardly think that’s necessary. He’s probably shy, he just needs a little more time.” Octavia lied.
“Octavia…” Redhart took a deep breath. “Octavia this needs to stop.” She challenged. “It’s been two weeks and besides him waking up there has been no changes. I can’t keep borrowing medical supplies from the hospital. What if another changeling is in need? They could be suffering and barely holding on…” Her backlog trembled in place as strength slowly waned from her voice. “I can’t help others,” Redhart said softly, “If I have nothing to help them with.”
Octavia thought Redhart looked tired at the door, but she stopped the front to show how much this was really weighed down on her. The bags under her eyes, her once shiny white coat practically dull grey. Even her eyes had lost that bit of twinkle from the fulfilling work of helping others nearly every day.
“I really want to help your changeling friend,” Octavia internally winced at friend. “But I can’t keep sneaking around like this. Please…do the right thing.”
“Redhart-” Octavia started then her mouth clamped shut. Her eyes narrowed as she stood tall in front of the other mare. She pulled the bag of supplies in front of her before turning her attention back to the troubled nurse. “How long will this last him?”
“Three days.”
“Then if there are no major changes in his condition in three days, then I will escort him to the hospital personally and report that I coerced you to take the medical supplies in secret.” Redhart gasped.
“No one will blame you, and no one will ask you too many questions. My family has always had quite a bit of political clout so it would make sense if one kind-hearted mare was forced to steal for my own selfish ends.”
“I can’t let you do that Octavia. It would destroy your reputation!” Redhart proclaimed.
“I know. That’s why I am taking the risk. So please.” Octavia took hold of Redhart’s hoof, the warmth of her presence fought back against the cold clamminess that had already covered the nurse. “Three days.”
Redhart stared at Octavia’s hoof holding her own, before she looked up. Her body no longer shook from stress as her face gotten some colour back into it. “Okay.” Redhart pulled her hoof away and guided it through her mane, it smoothed down the frayed strands. She then glared at Octavia with newfound determination. “When we go, and I do mean we.” she emphasized to shut down any possible objection from the other mare. “Are going to say that you wanted to help him. I would be failing my duty as a nurse saying no to any patient, no matter race or condition. All those reporters would only make it worse for him in such critical decision so I advised you to keep him at your home until he was healthy enough to move…one week from now.” As Redhart spoke her small smile became a confident smirk.
Though she said nothing, Octavia gave Redhart a small nod. "Thank you, Redhart."
She turned her head to give a soft-hearted glare to the neutral Octavia in front of her. “Now you don’t go thinking you have to go and make yourself out like some sort of goon. I’m a grown mare and I can admit to my own mistakes.” Her eyebrows rose high on her head as her glare hardened. “Understood?” Redhart questioned.
Her tone made it sound like she dared Octavia to object. “Of course.” Octavia replied. Internally, she was grateful for the new plan. It was definitely more favourable for both of them this way.
“Now how about some tea? I am going to get a pot going.” Redhart turned back to the kitchen. She stopped for a moment to stare at her walls. “I’m thinking of getting my walls repainted by that new company in town. What do you think?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.” Octavia said mildly, as she took her place back on the couch. It felt more comfortable now.
“Bulk had them paint his workout room and now he’s like a walking commercial for them. Perhaps you’ve heard of them, Trinity Painters?” Redhart called back, the tea kettle whistled loudly in the kitchen.
“I don’t suppose that it’s run by two stallions and a mare?”
“Ah, so you do know them! Bulk said that their seamless teamwork is a cornerstone of their job mentality.”
Octavia heard the scoff in Redhart’s voice, but did not linger on it as a strong smell of chamomile wafted into the living room as Redhart took her seat on the couch next to the other mare.
Octavia could help but smirk as she thought of the teamwork from this morning. “I had…experienced that myself this morning. It was interesting.” As the soothing scent filled her lungs, she felt her burdens drift away
for some time as she enjoyed the company of a new friend.
<>
As she walked home her mind settled with a newfound sense of ease to figure out her current dilemma. To get her offender to open up.Octavia knew that all she needed was something small, like a gesture or a gift, and then it be easy for his defiance to crumble away for her to get to the real heart of his problem.
At least, that's how her mother did it.
She opened the door to home deep in thought. Paying no mind to sound of Vinyl’s music thumping in the background. "Perhaps he’s willing to talk, I know that I had a few complaints after a day’s worth of Vinyl blaring inside my head. Octavia mused.
She gave the bedroom door a gentle push, only to stop at the sudden sound movement muffled by bed sheets. Octavia listened intently for what may be happening inside of the room. Was he going to try and attack again out of desperation?
A small part of Octavia was actually excited for a confrontation. An outburst was better than nothing at all. She prepared herself for another assault as she opened the door as casually as possible. Her muscles tensed but relaxed immediately after she saw that her guest was still sitting in the bed, glaring at her.
Glaring at her?
Knowing that any visible show of acknowledgement of his new behaviour may set their relationship back before it can even begin, Octavia silently tried to figure why he was looking at her as if she was a fly on his afternoon meal.
The room looked completely undisturbed, except for the bed. That was normal, no one sits still for hours at a time. But what was he-
Ah! The white glow from behind his pupil-less eyes shifted to the window and back. "What has grabbed his attention so?"Octavia thought.
She furrowed her brow and met his challenge with one of her own, she moved closer to the bed as she loomed over him. Octavia glanced at the window, nothing was out of the ordinary except for that spot of paint from the morning debacle.
The grey mare looked back to the changeling in the bed beneath her. His glare had become even more irritated, whether it was at her presence so close to him or his little splotch on the window.
Octavia pulled back in surprise and twisted her head towards the sound of a low rumbling. He growled at her! She kept her eyes on him, half-expecting him to lunge at her any second.
Interesting.
Octavia slowly backed away from both the window and the bed, keeping her widened eyes on the changeling. She slowly closed the door and just before it could shut completely she got a slight glimpse of him turning his head back to stare at the spot on the window.
Blocked by the door, Octavia almost chuckled out loud. Her mind had clicked into high gear. She had finally found a way to get to him. Her head was soon filled with ideas, things to add, subtract and more. All because of his fascination with a little splotch of paint on her window.
Octavia felt real joy as she bopped her head to an unheard melody. She trotted back to the living room to make preparations for tomorrow. Between Redhart and that splotch of paint, this had been one of the best
days she has ever had.