As promised, Gregory was quickly introduced into the castle mail room. It was the public sector, dealing with notifications for castle staff, private deliveries, official requisitions, and so forth. It was office 402, a fairly laid back place where ponies of all tribes carried packages and letters to and from the various stages of processing for delivery. In his orientation he learned that the aspiration of all the public mail staff was the private sector, which managed the private deliveries made to and from the queens and prince.

Training went by fairly quickly, leaving Gregory feel he’d been processed no differently than the box he was now stamping. It was tedious and monotonous work, but the human pony didn’t mind, the sort he felt was best left to a machine rather than wasting the bits on a pony, but he decided to keep such thoughts to himself for now. Truth be told he didn’t mind all that much, as opposed to his other coworkers who regularly made their complaints known.

“And the alicorn damned printer is broken again!” Green Stamp, announced in a semi-formal manner. She was a unicorn with mint green fur and a yellow mane.

“Seriously?” Red Tape groaned, his crimson fur bristling with frustration as he blew the yellow mane with a black strip from his face. He was an earth pony and currently working beside Gregory on the stamp line. “At some point you’ve just gotta accept that buying a new one would be cheaper than shelling out the bits on fixing this hunk of junk every other week.”

“But that would require being efficient and listening to employee complaints,” Gregory commented as he magically levitated the stamp up and down. Imagining himself as a real machine, envisioning what he wished the magic to do, went a long way of simplifying the process; not unlike Green Lantern. Even so, despite the overall simplicity, the process still left him feeling rather winded. “If we were efficient, could this still be called postal work?”

“He’s got you there,” Long Distance smirked as she unloaded her latest delivery onto a table before rubbing her slightly swollen belly. She was a pegasus of dark yellow with a green mane and about two months pregnant. “I, for one, happen to like this job’s paycheck very much and I’d rather not compromise that just yet.”

All ponies working in mail wore the standard uniform of black slacks with blue vests, for which all but Gregory complained. Their rarely seen manager, a black unicorn stallion by the name of Mad Dash (no relation to any walking pride flags you might be thinking of), was special and got to walk around without the slacks.

“Speaking of which, when’s your maternity leave start?” Red asked.

“Not for another couple months. Then it’ll be a good long year before I have to look at your ugly mugs again,” Long laughed. “Why?”

“Just wondering if we’ll be getting a replacement flyer when you’re gone.”

“Would they reassign a temp from another department, or would we get a new hire?” Gregory asked.

“Depends.” Green shrugged uncaringly as he began sorting through the latest deliveries. “A lot of ponies looking for work right now, so my money’s on the latter.”

“I keep hearing about this slump going on, but it’s all second hand stuff,” Gregory chimed in. “Exactly how bad is it?”

“Hoof,” Green corrected. “Second hoof.”

“Whatever.” Gregory had mixed feelings about adjusting his speech to fit pony sensibilities. He understood the importance of assimilation, but such things tended to rub him the wrong way.

“And it’s not as bad as the media likes to suggest, but it’s still pretty bad.”

“I hear its gotten better these last couple weeks,” Green added. “A lot of nobles have suddenly gotten a lot less tight with their money and are investing in a lot of infrastructure stuff.”

“Doesn’t do my sister much good,” Red groaned. “Economy’s gone to crap and she’s still holding out for an office job, on my couch no less.”

“She’s fresh out of university, Red,” Long reassured with a friendly pat on his shoulder. “You know how those types are. She’s still coming off the intellectual high, thinking the world owes her something better.”

Green snorted. “What you oughta do is kick her flank out till she can get a job, at least something part time.”

“Full agreement,” Gregory added. “My parents let me slack about looking for a so-called decent job, and I was unemployed for over a year till I got tired of it and went for minimum wage.”

“That normal?” Red asked. “For humans, I mean.”

“Not really, but we’d been in a slump for a few years by then and it’d become something of a trend nationwide. Strictly speaking, I never even moved out of my parents’ house.” Despite his forced smile, the somber tone was not missed by his coworkers.

“And yet you find yourself sleeping in one of the castle’s luxury apartments.” Long gave him a gentle nudge and a reassuring smile. “I’d imagine they’d be pretty impressed by that.”

Gregory nodded in appreciation before going back to work. These were working ponies, aware of his status but generally uncaring, which he appreciated as it helped him to feel normal. Such had become of his daily routine. Breakfast with the royals in the early hours of the morning, work, magic lessons, and then he was allowed most of the afternoon off to do as he pleased until dinner.

***

“Just breathe and focus,” Peach instructed gently.

Gregory’s current exercise was a frustrating one. Moving two blocks at once was tricky enough. However, now the blocks had colored dots on one side and he had to rotate them around his body while keeping the dotted sides facing him at all times.

“I’m pretty sure blocks aren’t supposed to orbit like this,” he grunted as he felt his concentration slipping from his magical grasp. A sudden tickle in his nose and the resulting sneeze dropped the blocks to the floor. Thoroughly disappointed in himself, Gregory fell to his belly with a huff.

“That was forty seconds,” Peach informed. “A new personal best.”

Unicorns prided themselves on their magic and inability to perform was often a blow against their self-esteem. This proved especially true for adults and other late bloomers. Peach knew that suggesting they slow down or go back a level, at least out loud, would only wound his pride further.

Gregory held out his hoof in front of his face, grimacing as he remembered his missing appendages. “I used to be able to hold things without magic.”

Smiling sympathetically, Peach walked up to his side and began petting his mane gently. He didn’t protest, but neither did he make any sounds of approval.

“Do I even really need magic?” Gregory asked, sitting up on his haunches. “I mean, I can pick up things just fine with hooves.” He demonstrated by picking up a block. “And earth ponies seem to get by just fine.”

“True,” Peach nodded. “But they have their enhanced strength to compensate, and pegasi can use their wings as makeshift graspers. On top of that, being a unicorn means you run the risk of suffering magical buildup if you go without use for too long. Trust me when I say you want to keep the surges to a minimum.”

Gregory grimaced and nodded. Magic was like a dammed river, he’d been told. It needed to let off the excess every now and then or risk overflow, or worse, a rupture.

“Besides, I’m not going to let you give up that easy. We need to get you up to the secondary level.” She grinned wryly. “Or Celestia will have us both sent to her pleasure dungeon.”

Gregory flinched, and for good reason. Peach had been fond of using the threat of the pleasure dungeon ever since she’d convinced Celestia to show them a while back. Just the memory of those chains, hooks, and so-called toys was usually enough to straighten the stallion out whenever he started getting down on himself. As Peach ground her thighs together at the same memory, she considered how else to motivate her student.

At times like this, she decided to turn to the list of suggestions offered to her by the queens. They’d seen many a human pony go through these very same motions and had developed quite the list of strategies. Skimming the paper, she found one she liked near the middle. Appeal to sense of ego, especially regarding being able to show off to friends

“I understand Maud has a bit of a fascination with magic,” she offered suggestively. “Wouldn’t you like to have something to show off to your friend.”

Word spread quickly that the pair had begun hanging out. However, as Gregory shot up to all fours, purpose in his heart, it seemed pitiable that he was the only one ignorant about where this was going.

As the stallion set his sights on the blocks, he tried turning his head to look at them from a different angle. “Maybe there’s some trick I’m missing.”

“Could very well be,” Peach agreed. “Once they’ve learned the basics, most unicorns don’t put too much thought into using magic. It’s like using your legs; you will yourself forward and your body goes along for the ride. I will this block up,” she lifted the block he’d been staring at, “and here it is. I feel the magic pulsing, the same as I would the muscles in my legs.” She set the block back down as a new thought occurred.

Rechecking the list, she found the item at the very bottom. If the student continues to struggle, try steering the conversation towards the memory of what it was like to have hands. Peach frowned. She’d deliberately avoided this item thus far as it seemed cruel to remind her student of what he’d lost. Still, it was written by the queens. Maybe it’d give him the necessary motivation? “Just a suggestion, but if you had hands, how would you go about lifting this block?”

Gregory refocused on the block, now picturing his old body and those beloved hands of his. “I’d reach out,” his horn lit, “and wrap my… wha-?”

It was a hand; transparent and with a vague sparkle to it, but a hand just the same; the position of the thumb making it a lefty. It hovered in the air, just above the block, fingers outstretched and ready to take hold. Gregory blinked and the hand vanished.

“What was that!?” Peach gasped excitedly.

“I…” Gregory tried to look up at his horn. “I just…”

“Do it again! Remember how it felt and focus.”

Gregory remembered how it felt when he’d summoned the hand the first time. The construct reformed in front of his face. At his will, the fingers flexed into a fist and opened up again. He turned the hand around experimentally, turning it a full 720 degrees to find there was no resistance. Satisfied with experimentation, he faced the block once more. Wetting his lips in anticipation, he wrapped the construct’s fingers around the wood and gasped.

“What?” Peach asked.

“I… feel it.” Gregory rubbed the construct’s digits along the smooth surface of the block as a grin grew across his face. “I… feel it!”

“To what degree?” Peach inquired. “There is often a degree of tactical feedback when using basic levitation, but it’s less than normal touch.”

“Then I must be doing it wrong, because it feels the same,” Gregory suggested, the smile never leaving his face as he lifted the block into the air. “The weight… I feel that too.” He bobbed the block up and down, testing how the momentum shifted with his movements. “It’s like a real hand!”

“Fascinating.” Peach leaned forward to examine the construct as Gregory experimented. “Most ponies can’t form a construct like this until they reach the lower master level. I’d never even thought to suggest something like this.”

The mare’s words were definitely giving the human pony’s self-esteem a boost. Holding the block off to the side, he tried summoning a second construct. The right hand popped into existence and Gregory let out a cheer that filled the room. “Yahooooo!”

Peach was left dumbstruck, overcome with the urge to find whoever had written the rule book on the progression of magical advancement in unicorns, and smack them across the face with said book. “How is this possible?”

“Maybe because I used to have hands?” Gregory offered hopefully as he seized the second block. “Like you were saying about will and muscles and all that stuff. I know what hands are supposed to be like, so it’s like muscle memory is meeting me half way or something.”

Peach face-hoofed at this explanation. “So that’s what they meant,” she grumbled under her breath.”

“Say something?” Gregory asked. He wasn’t paying his teacher too much attention as he was carrying on the exercise from earlier, holding both blocks in the hand constructs and rotating them around his head.

***

At the conclusion of the day’s lesson, Gregory, happy as can be, returned to his room. After changing to his more casual clothes, he found a note on the night stand. It was signed from Maud and promptly torn open.

P.S. This Saturday the 15th. I’ll meet you at your place.

Gregory smiled and readied a quill and ink.

Dear Maud

This poem seemed unusually whimsical for you, what with the talking rocks. I liked it a lot. The first couple lines seemed a bit off though. I don’t think they fit with the theme of the rest of the poem. If there’s something I’m missing, please let me know.

Till then
Gregory

P.S. Have you considered getting a phone? I have a phone in my room. Just a thought.

He sealed the note in one of the envelopes he’d stashed in his night stand, one with the address preprinted in anticipation of her regular poems. Then he slipped the envelope into the suction tube and watched it fly away into the wall. It was only after the letter had vanished that he recalled what day it was and a knock came to the door, startling him.

“Who is it?” Gregory asked, though intuition told him he already knew.

“It’s me,” the familiar voice of Maud answered.

“Me who?” Gregory asked in mock sternness as he made for the door. “If you’re with the government or the church, I don’t take kindly to solicitors.”

“Just open the door.” She was beginning to sound annoyed, so the human pony complied. In walked Maud, looking as she always did since they started hanging out. Gregory had developed an appreciation for the confidence with which she carried herself and in her appearance, as opposed to many of the Canterlot nobility who, at times, were indistinguishable from clowns in his eyes.

“I literally just sent my response. If you’d gotten here just a minute sooner…”

“Don’t spoil anything,” Maud said flatly as she trotted past him. “I’ll read your response for myself.”

“Black tea with lime?” Gregory asked, anticipating her usual.

“Please.”

Gregory readied their respective drinks as Maud sat at the table in the corner. The human stallion’s room was a lot like a one room apartment, only a lot nicer with a complete set of furniture and a bathroom. Eager for a chance to show off, he reformed his constructs and handed Maud her drink as he sat across from her.

“Is that a magical construct?” Maud asked, eyes widened in fascination.

“Is it?” Gregory asked, feigning ignorance as his excitement threatened to boil over. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be really advanced?”

“That’s what Peach said,” he admitted, no longer able to keep the grin off his face. He swung the construct from side to side, watching the way Maud followed it like a cat.

Tearing her eyes from the spectacle, Maud reached across the table and grabbed hold of Gregory’s hoof. “I’m so proud of you.”

Embarrassed, Gregory let the construct fall apart as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks a lot.” The way Maud held him gave his hoof an odd tingle, so he eventually pulled free.

“Does this mean you’re an expert now?” Maud asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“Only in this one thing,” Gregory clarified. “I still need to finish memorizing the alphabet and I’ll be good to go to the next level.” Magic was written in elaborate symbols with each one constituting a letter. Spells were letters strung together in words or even sentences. After he’d finished showing off his new magic hands, Peach doubled down on his studying.

“I hear a lot of unicorns tend to forget the alphabet after the basics,” Maud said. “They just focus on what they need for their respective talents and do away with all the rest.”

“Peach was telling me the same thing. But she said I’d best at least run through the alphabet every now and then to make sure I don’t forget until I know what I want to do with my life.”

Despite remaining neutral, Maud still managed to make slight faces whenever she felt strongly enough about something. “Still no thoughts on what your cutie mark might be?”

“Can’t say I do.” Gregory shrugged apathetically as he glanced at his cloth covered flank. “Blue, Celestia, and Luna all say these things can’t be forced and that you just gotta be patient.”

“True enough, but there’s a difference between being patient and being idle. You’ll never find a cutie mark if you just sit about all day. You need to go out and experience the world.”

Gregory grimaced. He’d learned how important cutie marks were to pony society. The queens and prince had explained that they were a reflection of that pony’s destiny and an indicator of their special talents, usually popping up around puberty. He also knew Maud was speaking with genuine concern for her friend, but also that her words came with an unusual level of insistence. “I assume you have something in mind?”

Maud gave a look that Gregory could have sworn looked sadistic. “I have some thoughts.”

Before Gregory could respond, the mare demonstrated her earth pony strength by grabbing his hoof and tossing him across the room, where he landed with a *pomf* on the mattress. The next thing he knew he saw Maud jumping towards him, legs spread out like she was performing a belly flop. He threw his forelegs over his face to brace for impact, but none came. Instead he felt a slight weight resting against his belly. He looked down to see Maud laying on her back, using his chest to prop up her head. “Um… Maud?”

“Shush, you,” she said flatly. “I’m testing to see if you’d make a decent pillow.”

“Uh huh?” he responded skeptically as he felt her shift about against him. It was not an unpleasant feeling. Ultimately he concluded that this was Maud just being Maud and decided to roll with it. “How is it?”

“I’ve had better,” Maud said flatly.

“I have no idea how to respond to that,” Gregory admitted.

“Strive to be better.” It wasn’t a suggestion. “A pillow exists to help ponies sleep. I doubt you’re the sort that’s easily fluffed, what with all those pesky bones.” Maud had a peculiar sense of humor that few could really appreciate. “So you’ll have to do other things.”

Gregory grinned. “How about a belly rub?”

“That sounds lovely,” Maud responded to Gregory’s horror.

He hadn’t actually expected her to accept his offer, thinking she knew he was just joking. Is she calling my bluff or is she actually… Gregory’s thoughts trailed off as he looked down at the mare atop him. Her frock still covered most of her body, especially her privates, but he still felt the temptation. Ever since coming here, he’d felt the urge on more than one occasion to just start petting these adorable little equines. Their fluffy bodies were like a siren song to him, but he’d resisted on the grounds that he assumed it was rude. Then again, if nipping is okay…

“Any day now,” Maud said curtly. She liked Gregory, but could only suffer his obliviousness for so long.

“Right!” Swallowing, Gregory summoned up a single construct. He watched as Maud’s eyes followed its descent to her covered chest. It stopped a second, giving her time to protest. When none came, belly rubs commenced in earnest.

The sounds Maud made were akin to purring as she felt the magical appendage rubbed across her chest and belly. He was careful to never wander too close to her teats, but that was fine. The way he caressed her body was more than enough to appease her.

Gregory focused all his attention on Maud. Through the construct he felt her warmth and the way her muscles tensed and relaxed in his grip. He listened to her moans, adjusting the location and pressure of his hand to whatever seemed to please the mare most. At times he caught himself wandering too far south and was quick to amend the mistake before friendly petting turned into accidental molestation. Instead, he summoned the second construct and began tending to her ears, earning deeper moans.

Hot damn, she sounds into this! Gregory congratulated himself. He wondered if he should try this out with other ponies, though cautioned himself that it still might be a violation of privacy. To be on the safe side, he’d offer to pet Blue next and see how he took it.

“A good start,” Maud moaned. “But you’ll need to do a lot better if you want to be a good pillow.” Please-touch-my-teats-please-touch-my-teats! She pleaded silently, rationalizing that a mare was allowed to fantasize.

“Should I try singing you to sleep?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Maud hid her disappointment, but decided she was curious to hear human songs.

What followed was a criminally wretched attempt at singing the opening to Attack on Titan. Think the reverse of engrish, only less funny. “How was that?”

“Lousy,” Maud deadpanned as she rolled over to face him directly. “Try again.”

Accepting his Maud-given task, Gregory ran through a short list of some of his favorite songs growing up. All were picked specially for the qualities he felt made them least fit for the lullaby’s Maud had asked for. Most were villain songs and each was sung with a passion it deserved and then some, but Maud told him to cut the crap after the 4Kids opening to One Piece, for which he apologized.

“You’ve had your fun,” she deadpanned. “Now how about a real song.”

Chuckling, Gregory settled for A Spark Inside Us https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIP7c7ut2dU “Maud?”

His answer came in the form of a soft snore. He smiled at her cute face as she snuggled against his side. Unable to help himself, Gregory chanced reaching out and petting her behind the ears. He was rewarded with a moan as she leaned into his touch, and so continued. They stayed like that for a good long while until Gregory had to get up to pee. Alas, he’d earned no cutie mark, but Maud, in that special way of hers, made it clear that they weren’t going to stop trying until he found his special talent, no matter how many ways she had to use him. Blueblood walked in on that part and practically fainted.

Author's Notes:

A nice little peak into Gregory’s job, followed by a magical discovery, and ending with the budding friendship with him and Maud. Not much else happened, leading to the argument that this could be called filler, but I think a little filler now and then is necessary. It’s important to establish a life for our protagonist outside the relationship. Maud’s antics weren’t entirely up to what I was hoping for, as I’m really liking her being secretly a lot more like the pink one than most realize, but it was still serviceable.