At the edge of the Witch’s manor (some would say beyond what is rightfully Hers - but none would dare say it within Her earshot) there is a garden. And in that garden there is a Doll.
On other days there may be two, three, as many dolls as She requires really; but today the Doll is alone. Were it to wonder why it may well reason that its Witch views it as something of a yard ornament, as much an object of beauty as the flowers it tends. The only difference being that the flowers grow. The Doll does not; or it cannot remember itself doing so.
The garden is pristine and yet the Doll tends it anyway. It is the tending itself that is its Purpose, not the outcome of said maintenance. It floats as breeze from crop to crop, porcelain reflecting distorted purples and reds. A flower among flowers.
It is into this floral stillness that the Bee emerges, from the unkempt and equally beautiful foliage beyond the Witch’s imposed boundaries. She strides confidently from shrub to path, wings aflutter, eyes peeled as always for new conquests for Hive and Queen. And she has just hit the jackpot. She would buzz in delight were the Stillness in the air not somehow dampening.
Her stomach growls, not in hunger but in anticipation of her haul, and she lowers herself into a patch of lilacs (the Queen’s favorite, she knows well). She does not notice the strange mechanical figure approaching.
For the Doll’s part it too takes a fair moment to notice the interloper; it gives the area outside of its Witch’s manor such little thought that it may as well not exist. And so the thought of an intrusion is so distant from its processing that it at first parses the Bee as some new striped flower. But no, she is too large and too buzzy and too busy. Too unStill. It is as captivating as it is unsettling.
The two notice each other at the same time. The Doll’s face remains as placid as ever, even as the Bee starts, her wings carrying her a few feet into the air in surprise before depositing her gracelessly on her abdomen.
“Hello!” chirps the Doll, tone of voice only slightly betraying its amusement.
“Oh! Hiya!” responds the Bee, rising to her feet and tamping down the part of herself that had been prepared to use her stinger. It likely wouldn’t do any good.
“Would you mind telling this one what you are doing in its garden?”
“Augh!! Sorry!! I didn’t know this was your garden!”
The Doll mentally chided itself. Improper to think of the garden as its own. It was of course Hers.
“This one apologizes. In actuality, this garden belongs to its Witch.”
The Bee’s jaw dropped and her wings came pinned near to her back. “The Witch! Oh no… The Queen warned me about her! I didn’t know she was so close…”
The Doll tilted its head. “And why would the Witch’s location matter to that one?”
“That one? Oh! Me! Well duh, the Witch is like, super scary and stuff! She eats people! And bees! And she harvests our stingers for weapons! And jewelry! Or something! She’s the worst! Everyone in the Hive knows that.”
For the first time that the Bee had seen, a wave of change passed over the Doll’s face. A mix of emotions unreadable amidst the stiff articulation.
“That simply cannot be true. This one’s Witch is a paragon of Good. I will not suffer Her to be slighted.”
On instinct, the Bee stepped back, wings outstretched and arms raised, digging her chin into the floof around her neck. “Oh! Sorry! Super sorry! I didn’t mean to insult you! Or her! Or that one or whatever! Just stuff I’d heard… I’m sure she’s actually lovely!”
“Yes,” nodded the Doll vigorously. “She is. Beautiful and Righteous and Caring.”
“I super get it! The Queen is like that too! Just add Hungry and Pregnant!” The Bee’s laugh came out in buzzes.
The Doll seemed pleased enough. The Bee had an idea.
“And I bet your Witch is generous, too!”
“Of course. The most Generous. She gave this one life and Purpose, after all.”
“Yeah yeah! So of course she wouldn’t mind letting me have some of the nectar from her plants, I’m sure!”
The Doll was taken aback. It had no entry in its mental list of commands to handle Bee interactions. Its first instinct was to ask its Witch, but who knew if She would be in a state to be disturbed at the moment. And besides, she was Generous.
“Plus, I’ll spread the pollen around the garden! Bees’ specialty! So really I’m helping out, if ya think about it.”
Well that sealed it. Helping the garden grow, as well as proving its Witch’s Magnanimity? It would be such a Good Doll! And being a Good Doll was always permitted. Its Stillness visibly returning, the Doll nodded.
“Of course! Take as much as you like.”
“Whoopee!!” cheered the Bee, instantly getting busy with her work, flitting from patch to patch, puffs of pollen following her in a frantic spinning dance. The Doll found it captivating. A Busy-ness which highlighted its own Stillness. Time passed in a blink.
“All done!” The Bee came back grinning broadly, dazedly, yellow clinging to its scopa. “This is some great stuff you have here!”
The Doll puffed up with pride.
“Welp, gotta be getting back to the Hive now! Thanks for everything!”
The Bee made to leave, and an unusual feeling passed over the Doll. It, of course, did not want things. It was not built to. In fact, it was built not to. However… it did not want the Bee to leave.
“Um!” said the Doll, fidgeting in place. “If that one would not mind! This one was about to have some tea…”
The Bee turned, her eyes growing wide with excitement.
“If… you would not mind…” continued the Doll, falteringly.
“Of course not!!!!!!” The Bee rushed back in, invading the Doll’s personal space in a moment and clutching at both its wrists, covered by the long flowing sleeves of its gardening outfit. “Do you take Honey with your tea!! I’ve got some great stuff on me!! Orange Blossom! Never leave home without it!” The Bee’s excitement devolved into giggles and the Doll, curiously, felt the corners of its mouth upturn.
And before long the two were spread amongst the verdant display, savoring the interplay of warm herbaceous liquid sweetened with the most intoxicating sweetness. In what neither had yet identified as the ersatz no-mans-land between two territories, a Bee and a Doll shared a pleasant teatime. When they said their goodbyes it was far too soon, and both carried a hope at varying depths in their hearts that it would not be goodbye for too long.