Apple Bloom wasn't honestly sure what she was doing as she lingered outside of the treehouse in the apple orchard, where Marina had said she would meet her. She chewed absently on her lip for a few moments, and then she glanced over her shoulder, thinking for a moment about just running away and going back to play with her friends...
But it was getting harder to just 'be fillies' with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, because they were growing up, too. And it wasn't that Apple Bloom had a problem with listening to them or helping them where she could, but it was getting harder and harder when they were talking about mare-things, and what Apple Bloom was experiencing were... stallion things.
She didn't want to lie to them, either. And while before it hadn't felt like really lying lying, now it was starting to feel a lot more like it was. She couldn't honestly say or pretend she knew what they were talking about sometimes anymore, after all, and her body wasn't developing in the same ways as theirs was.
She looked down at herself with a grimace, stretching one of her legs out as she studied her chest critically. She wrinkled her muzzle up, then stomped one of her hind hooves: she didn't look much different yet, but she could certainly feel it, all those changes happening to her body. Everything felt scruffier, and ungainly, and like it was starting to stretch and grow...
Apple Bloom scowled, then she glanced up as she heard the soft crunch of approaching hooves before she gave a brief smile as her eyes alit on Marina. The chocolate-colored mare was almost hesitant in her approach, lowering her head ever-so-slightly, eyes soft as they studied the filly for a few moments before she said gently: “Thank you for coming to meet me.”
“I guess I should be the one thanking you. Even if, you know. I don't really know how you can help me or nothin'.” answered Apple Bloom, almost defensive. Why was she being defensive, though? She had almost invited the Changeling here. She had wanted to, but she hadn't been able to get the words out, and made Marina invite herself, but some part of her was so scared that it felt like it had to keep the Changeling on the defensive, just in case-
“It's okay.” Marina reassured, and Apple Bloom blushed, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed. She knew that Marina knew just what she had been thinking and feeling, and she hated it, but there was relief, too: relief she didn't have to admit to her faults, and yet Marina blamed for neither them nor that.
Apple Bloom shifted awkwardly, and there was silence between them for a few long moments. Finally, Marina cleared her throat before she looked up at the treehouse, asking: “You don't mind if we go inside, do you?”
Apple Bloom glanced up, then she shook her head before giving an awkward shrug. Marina gave a small smile, and for a few moments, they lingered as the wind brushed through the trees around them, making branches and leaves whisper in their ears.
They stood for a few moments longer, until Marina cleared her throat, and the sound finally nudged Apple Bloom into doing something: the foal nodded awkwardly, then she turned and headed to the ramping stairs leading up to the treehouse. Marina followed a few feet behind her, giving her space and letting her lead: Apple Bloom appreciated that, even if she couldn't find the words to say so.
She pushed through the door and held it for Marina, even if there was a part of her that wanted to just slam it shut and shut Marina out, and seal herself away inside this artificial womb, where she could only be and it didn't matter what she was being, because she was alone and there was nothing and no one to judge her or question her...
But she held the door open, because that was what she had been taught to do, because that was polite, because maybe some small part of her needed more than just an escape: she couldn't keep running away from the inevitable changes in her own body forever.
She lowered her head, leaning against the door, hearing it creak as she put her weight on it: they'd done so much work to this place, but there were still a lot of old, damaged parts, she thought. Things that needed to be replaced; things that, no matter how you polished them up, you could still tell were broken. That were parts from another time, from a different set of things.
No wonder she liked it up here so much.
She sighed as she walked into the door and closed it with her body, leaning against it, planting her face against the wall as she trembled, but the surge of emotion only lasted a moment before she got herself under control, eyes sliding towards Marina as she asked noncommittally: “What did you want to talk about?”
Marina shrugged a little, rubbing at one of her mechanical legs before she looked around the treehouse. Her eyes roved over the pictures on the walls, the small pieces of furniture, the signs here and there of repair, and repaired-again, and she asked after a moment: “How much work have you done on this place?”
“A lot.” Apple Bloom shrugged a bit, and then she looked away, feeling a strange defensiveness as she said: “I like fixing things up, sure, but there's nothin' about that that means... I just like fixing things. But I like being me, too. I'm allowed to like boy things but not... not want to be, not be a...”
“Okay.” Marina said gently, and Apple Bloom shifted back and forth, feeling both embarrassed, but also cornered. And that was making her act up and act out. She had never tried to really talk about this with anyone, after all: it had always just been accepted and then left alone by her family. Why did she have to try and talk about it now, and with a stranger, no less?
“I always wanted to be pretty.” Marina said abruptly, and Apple Bloom blinked, looking up at her blankly. “Or, I mean, that's how I felt. That's the only way I could phrase it. I just knew that I didn't want to be a Queensguard, and I didn't want to be like the Queen, I wanted to be... pretty.”
Marina gestured at herself, and then she looked up with a small smile, continuing: “The other Changelings didn't really understand. I mean, Changelings always looked at any divergence from the natural order as strange... if you had an ambition, then it was to be 'First Class,' which really didn't mean anything except that you were more likely to be chosen for the more dangerous missions.
“You didn't want to be different, in the Hive. You wanted to conform. Changelings are able to turn into anything and everything, but we were also all very much the same. The Queen controlled us through that conformity, and that drive to fit in with all the other parts of the Hive. Even the voice of the Hive would always encourage us to try and be the same, to find our place in the structure of the Hive; to forget ourselves for the betterment of the Hive.” Marina glanced down, then she shook her head briefly before she murmured: “But it's more complicated than that.”
There was silence for a few moments, and then Marina drew her eyes up to Apple Bloom, saying quietly: “You have to... be who you are. There isn't really any way around that: you have to be who you are, and that's that. I wish it was easier than that. I wish you could choose. But even I couldn't choose. Every day, I felt... I didn't feel right where I was. I could lock step perfectly with all my Changeling brethren, I was happy to help the Hive, I was glad to have a purpose... but I never felt right. And until I came here, joined up with the other ponies...”
She gestured with a mechanical leg, then glanced down at it, smiling briefly as she tilted it back and forth before she said quietly: “I thought I'd miss my legs more. Being able to touch, to feel things. And it's not that I don't, but it's bearable. And I'm happier than I was, because I feel like I fit in more. Like I've found where I belong, the place I'm supposed to be. And that makes everything a hundred times easier. It makes life... that much more worth living.”
Apple Bloom frowned a little, but then she only sighed and shook her head, muttering: “I don't see how that helps me any. I'm not a Changeling, after all... I can't just... turn into whatever I'd like to be.”
“I am a Changeling, and I couldn't just turn into what I wanted to be, either. It took a lot of time to figure that out.” answered Marina.
Apple Bloom scowled at her, and Marina shifted a bit uncomfortably as she felt the rile of emotions from the foal before she sighed a little, then smiled hesitantly as she looked up and allowed her glammer to drop. Apple Bloom blinked and recoiled slightly on instinct from the drone she was left facing: a drone that looked like any other, only the green of its eyes the same. “Being a Changeling isn't a be-all, end-all solution, Apple Bloom. I'm still a Changeling, and a drone. I'm not... really a pony, and I'm not really a mare. I just put on a good disguise, too.”
Apple Bloom was silent, and then she looked down and murmured: “So I guess even if I was a Changeling, I wouldn't be able to... I hate it, Marina. What's wrong with me? Why am I this way?”
Marina softened as the foal rubbed silently at her face, and then the Changeling approached and reached up to gently grasp the filly's shoulder, looking down at her with a kind smile as she reassured quietly: “There's nothing wrong with you or the way you are, Apple Bloom. You aren't broken or bad or anything like that. I... as close as anyone could ever understand how you feel, I do. I know I don't totally understand but I still... I want you to know that you're not alone. That you can talk to me and I'll try my hardest to understand, and I want you to know that it's not hopeless. Maybe it'll take some time to figure things out. Maybe you won't be... precisely what you want to be. But... you'll be okay.”
Apple Bloom looked away, and then she blurted out: “Why do you care?”
Marina blinked, then she shrugged a bit before she said finally: “I don't know.”
Apple Bloom looked up at the Changeling in surprise, and Marina shrugged again with a small smile. “I don't like seeing people hurting. And you're similar to me and... I like it here and you ponies have always been good to me. I want to give back where I can. I want to be helpful.”
Apple Bloom nodded a bit, glancing down at herself for a moment before she looked up and said: “Applejack always says that... you know, ponies should help each other. Granny does, too. But sometimes I don't think that's how the real world works and all. Diamond Tiara seems like she's only ever interested in getting what she wants, and sometimes... it's like you look out at Ponyville and it seems like it's the bad ponies who win and... I don't know.”
Apple Bloom petered out: she didn't know what she was saying, but it seemed like Marina did, as the drone gave a small smile and said quietly: “Sometimes it feels like everything's against you, but... it's not, not really. It just feels like no one can help or wants to help, but you find what you look for. When you're sad, you always end up looking down, and you just see the bad things, everyone who's hurting and scared. You forget that... when you look up, you see the whole picture, and you can see all the good things in the world, too.”
The filly grunted at this, not quite believing it as her eyes shifted away, and then she asked quietly: “But what about me? I don't... what about what I want? I appreciate you helping me and I ain't blind to how much my family wants to help, but... it all feels like it's changing and... what if it's too little, too late? I get that you're still you and I'm still me, but it sure as heck must be nice to be able to just wish your boy parts away.”
“If you really could, would you get rid of them?” Marina asked.
“Yes!” Apple Bloom snapped, leaning almost aggressively forward. But when Marina remained calm, not moving, only looking at her, the filly bit her lip before she shifted a little, her eyes slipping away slightly.
It would be better without those parts. Yet something in her hesitated: it wasn't that she wanted to be a boy, it wasn't that she really wanted those 'parts' of her anatomy: they never felt right and she imagined that as she got bigger and things started happening down there it was going to feel even less right. But when she was forced to take more than a moment to shout and stomp and blurt things out. “It... it would take a bit of getting used to, I guess. But I would, I really would.”
“I believe you, I do. But any change is hard. Even for us Changelings, getting used to the bodies we shift into can be difficult.” Marina shrugged a bit, and then she stepped back as her horn glowed with green light for a moment before she once more took on the shape of the chocolate unicorn, shaking her head briskly out before she smiled a little. “When I first became a mare, I did... it took a bit of adjustment. But I think you've probably already learned about a few differences there.”
Apple Bloom shrugged awkwardly, not really wanting to get into any of the details, and there was silence for a few moments before the filly looked up and asked: “Can't you use your Changeling magic to change me or anything?”
“That's not really how it works, I'm afraid.” Marina smiled a little. “The most I could do is maybe hypnotize you into believing that you're really a....” Marina stopped and cleared her throat, correcting: “That you have all the parts that a filly does, physically. But even then, it would be a lot more like a lucid dream than anything else. I can't physically change you: the same magic doesn't run through your body that runs through mine.”
“I guess dreaming is better than nothing, though.” Apple Bloom muttered.
Marina bit her lip, and the foal frowned up at her before the Changeling asked: “But is that really what you want? I don't-”
“What else am I going to get, though?” Apple Bloom almost snapped, her her voice died down into almost a whimper after only the briefest flare of anger: anger that was far more at herself and her situation than anything or anyone else. “What else could I possibly do? I can't... maybe I should just give up on this whole stupid thing. Maybe I could at least live it in my dreams and just make peace with the fact that I ain't no Changeling and there's no way that a... a colt like me could ever be a filly.”
“Now stop that.” Marina chided gently as she stepped forward and slipped her forelegs around Apple Bloom, hugging her close. Apple Bloom stiffened up a little, but then closed her eyes and sank against the warmth of Marina's chest, giving a shuddering sigh as the mare gently stroked her mane and said softly: “You're just frustrated, and maybe trying to process too much at once. Just... take a breath, maybe. It's okay.”
Apple Bloom mumbled a little as she shivered a bit, then she shook her head shortly before taking a slow, shuddering breath and whispering: “I ain't supposed to cry.”
“Everypony cries sometimes. It's okay if it helps.” Marina reassured, and yet all the same Apple Bloom struggled to hold in the tears, to hide how hard it was, to try and swallow that pain, until the heartache overwhelmed her and she finally couldn't stop herself from giving vent to her emotions.
She sobbed against Marina's chest, and Marina just held her and rocked her gently, stroking her mane almost maternally, her head bowed and tears shimmering faintly in her own eyes. She felt Apple Bloom's pain, and she hurt for her, and with her; she celebrated the pain and lived it vicariously through the foal, because as awful as it was, it felt like undeniable truth, too, and it was something Marina had never experienced for herself, and it was something that spoke of the truth of Apple Bloom's experiences, and that this was more than a phase, and that this was more than just a want or a desire. It was a need, as real as any other need that Marina had tasted in the starving, the wounded, the crying-out-for-help.
Apple Bloom cried for a few minutes, but soon, it drew down from sobs to snuffles, the filly slumping a bit against the mare as her shaking became trembling, became only the occasional shiver, until she rasped in a dry, cracking voice: “ I'm sorry.”
“It's okay.” Marina said softly, stroking gently along Apple Bloom's back, before she asked; “Do you feel better?”
Apple Bloom was silent for a few moments, and then she said finally: “It didn't change anything. I feel stupid. But... I guess I do.”
“Sometimes it's not about finding a solution, Apple Bloom. It's just about finding a way to cope.” Marina shrugged a bit, smiling briefly as she flexed one of her mechanical legs before settling it back around the filly. “I... still don't really know what I'm doing, after all. Even if I feel better, good about things, some days still require... just coping. Sometimes learning to deal with things is even more important than figuring out the answer to what hurts right now, because... you'll always have to find ways to cope, but you won't always be able to find what you need right away.”
“I guess.” Apple Bloom said noncommittally, and she shifted a little, and Marina smiled awkwardly as she allowed the filly to pull away.
The foal rubbed slowly at her eyes, smearing the small bit of makeup there: just enough to accent her features, make them look a little more feminine. Marina smiled a bit at this, and then she asked curiously: “Who else... knows about things, Apple Bloom?”
“Well, uh... I mean...” Apple Bloom shifted and bit her lip as her eyes slid away, but Marina only looked at her, giving her the opportunity to answer and not pressing the subject, and after a few moments, Apple Bloom loosened up enough to answer almost grudgingly: “Rarity. Zecora. A... a lot of the family, I guess. But AJ and Big Mac were always pretty firm about introducin' me as the little sister, and no one ever made much of it. I guess we've always been the weird ones, though, and... with our parents gone, too...”
She quieted, and Marina nodded before she asked: “Have you ever asked any of them for help?”
“Well, Rarity makes dresses and stuff for me...” Apple Bloom fidgeted, rubbing at one of her forelegs lamely, clearly as aware as Marina was that was a non-answer.
Again, it was just a matter of waiting, of being gentle, and Apple Bloom looked up after a few moments and confessed: “I'm scared. Rarity's... she doesn't really get it, I guess. She's nice about it and everything, but I don't think she really gets it, and she... I know when she says things like how I make such a pretty filly she's trying to help but it comes across like teasing. I don't... I don't want to be a pretty filly. I just want to be a filly, you know?”
Marina smiled a little: ponies were so complicated. But she thought she understood, as she said: “I always wanted to be pretty. I like feeling pretty. Maybe I'm a little vain, I don't know, but maybe I also just like being able to be feminine. It helps me feel right in my gender and who I am.”
Marina softened, adding quietly: “But that doesn't mean it's any less right for me, or any less right for you. Just like it is for any filly or mare, too. I'm sure Rarity doesn't mean any harm. It's just that it's important to her to be feminine and pretty too, I think, so she wants you to feel pretty. Because that's what emphasizes being a mare to her.”
“What are you, some kinda shrink now?” Apple Bloom mumbled: it was a little rude, but Marina couldn't help but laugh all the same at it, shrugging awkwardly as she smiled a little down at the filly.
“I guess I'm just trying to reassure you still. Maybe I should just listen.” Marina admitted, and Apple Bloom mumbled and shifted a little.
“I don't know about Zecora.” she said almost abruptly. “I don't... she's weird about it. Like, she clearly knew right from the start that I was a... you know. But Zecora knows just about everything, after all.”
Marina only nodded: from the few dealings she'd had with the zebra, she could believe that. She looked at Apple Bloom, and after a few moments, the filly continued: “Zecora never really... says anything outright, though. She likes you to figure things out for yourself. That's important to her, I think. And to be honest, it really has helped me learn a lot about everything, sort of being... pushed like that and all, even if sometimes it feels real tough, too.
“She says it's real important to know yourself, too, before you go asking about anything you want. I think she was kind of hinting that I needed... I don't know what, some kind of answer before I asked her for help with... you know.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “I'm sure she's got some kind of fancy potion she could mix up to help me out. She's got potions and charms and zebra stuff for everything. But I...”
Marina cocked her head curiously, and Apple Bloom smiled a little and looked down, blushing a bit before she admitted: “I been scared, I guess. Because you're right, it is a big thing, and... I don't want her to think any less of me or reject me, and... what if she did give me some potion that would just change everything? What would everypony think? I ain't... I ain't stupid. As good as Big Mac and AJ and Granny are, would they think less of me if I did that? How would everything be different? If it made me a real filly, would I really be... if I grew up to be a mare, would I be a real mare, or would I still just be a stallion in a mare's body? I... it's scary.”
“It's a lot to take in.” Marina acknowledged, before she said in a gentler voice: “And the fact that you know that is probably a big part of what Zecora wants to see from you. I'm sure she wants to help you. Sometimes helping someone is... making them think about things, though, or even saying no. As much as it hurts.”
Apple Bloom nodded briefly, biting her lip for a moment before Marina said in a softer voice: “I can't speak for anyone, but... you know, your big sister was really worried about you. She loves you. Your whole family is just full of love for you. I could feed for weeks off it, really!”
Apple Bloom scowled a little, and Marina laughed awkwardly at her own inopportune joke before she cleared her throat and said: “Love like that doesn't die easily, though. I don't think they could ever stop loving you. They might be worried, and sometimes that comes out a lot like anger or being upset, but they'll never stop loving you, and I think if you gave them time... they'd accept, even help you with whatever you needed.”
The filly nodded briefly, looking down as she scraped her hoof against the floor of the treehouse. Then she sighed a little before she murmured: “I guess I just wish it could all be easier. I don't want anyone to be upset. I wish I could just... be a filly, and then I wouldn't have to lie to my friends or put my family through any worse than I already have.”
Marina smiled briefly, and there was silence for a few moments before Apple Bloom shook her head quickly and asked: “What should I do?”
“I can't really tell you that. I just know that... sometimes you need a little help, and that's okay. Don't be afraid to ask for help, Apple Bloom.” Marina reassured.
Apple Bloom nodded even as her eyes shifted away, and Marina softened as she felt the change of emotions in the filly. All this talk had exhausted her, put an almost physical weight on her, and Marina hesitated for a moment before she said softly: “If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me, okay? I'm always happy to. Any time you need help, I'll be there for you.”
“Okay. Thanks, Marina. I... I guess I'm glad we talked.” Apple Bloom said. She didn't sound happy, but Marina could feel those quavering, confused emotions in the filly, and the different parts of her, all struggling to process and figure things out; Apple Bloom just needed a bit of time by herself, she thought. Asking her to be thankful or happy... that would almost be cruel at this point. No, Marina was the one who was thankful to be able to be here for the filly, to have this chance to help.
The Changeling smiled, then she turned and headed to the door, quietly letting herself out. She strode down the ramp, then paused before looking up with a faint blush at the red stallion calmly standing nearby.
Big Mac cocked an eyebrow at her, and Marina bit her lip before she said softly: “She just needs a bit of time. And I know you're... all trying to support her already, but...”
Marina hesitated, but when Big Mac only tilted his head towards her in a gesture to go on, she said: “She needs someone to reach out to her. She needs something to bridge that gap between words and actions. She's very aware of her situation, and I think she's... she's worried about being accepted. She knows that... well...”
“Yep.” Big Mac answered, and that was enough. Marina smiled briefly, and there was silence between the two for a few moments before he said simply: “I'll take care of it.”
“Okay. But give her time for now. She needs time. She's got a lot to think about.” Marina said, and Big Mac smiled and nodded.
Marina smiled back, then she nodded in return before she gave a little wave and turned to leave. Big Mac stood for a few more moments, studying the treehouse thoughtfully for a few minutes, and then he finally turned with a shrug to head back to the ranch, thinking of what he could do and just hoping that he could reach out to his little sister in the way that she needed.
Apple Bloom returned to the house as the sun began to set: she had spent too much time thinking, and ended up crying a little more, until she'd fallen into a fitful nap. Then she'd woken up, and now it was late, and she'd probably missed dinner and made her family worry and she really just wasn't any good, was she?
She was a bad filly, and an even worse colt.
Apple Bloom grimaced and shook her head shortly, and then she frowned uneasily as she stepped up to the screen door, frowning through it: she couldn't hear anyone. Had they gone out? Maybe they were searching for her...
No, that wasn't likely. They would have known she was at the treehouse, or it would have been the first place they looked.
Maybe they just decided to leave their freak sibling alone to cry while they went out and enjoyed themselves.
Apple Bloom shook her head sharply to try and throw off those bitter thoughts, and then she took a short breath before she pulled the door open and stepped inside, calling clearly, in a voice that didn't shake at all: “I'm home!”
“Yep!” called Big Mac's voice from what sounded like the kitchen, and Apple Bloom felt strangely relieved as she trotted quickly in the direction of her brother's voice with a smile, before she blinked in surprise as she entered the kitchen and found Big Mac humming to himself as he slowly worked at the counter.
It was strange to see Big Mac baking: stranger still to see Granny and Applejack absent, the filly looking back and forth before she asked: “Where are the others?”
“They'll be back soon. Thought we could talk a little, Bloom.” Big Mac said, before he gestured at the counter and the half-formed dough, and Apple Bloom smiled a little as she approached and hopped up into the waiting chair, automatically going to work.
They worked in silence for a few minutes, making dough and shaping out crusts and balls of dough, before Big Mac said: “I love you, Bloom, and I'm gonna support you no matter what. I was trying to think of how to show you that. I was thinking of dressin' up like Orchard Blossom again, but I didn't want to insult you or nothin'.”
Apple Bloom couldn't help but laugh a little at this, blushing a bit as she looked up and answered: “Aw, shucks, Big Mac. It... did mean a lot that you did that for me. I... it was hard at first, sure, but... it meant a lot. It meant a lot.”
She quieted, then glanced up and added: “I... don't need you to pretend to be somethin' you're not, though.”
“I know. And you don't need to pretend, either, Apple Bloom. You don't need to pretend you're okay, or that you're 'thinking about bein' a colt or a stallion,' or that you're gonna give this up. There ain't nothin' to give up. You're you. You're a filly. You'll be a good mare. And I'll still be your big brother, just like I'm Applejack's big brother.” Big Mac answered.
Big Mac calmly kneaded the dough under his hooves as Apple Bloom looked at him for a few moments, and then she trembled before she almost fell out of the chair when she threw herself at him and hugged him fiercely, but the stallion only gently looped a foreleg around her, keeping her steady and shushing her gently as he rested his head against hers, even as he continued to gently shape the dough with his other hoof, murmuring: “You make me brave too, Apple Bloom. Maybe I'll bake more. I like it, even if it ain't what stallions like me are supposed to be good at. I'm just supposed to be good at kicking trees. But I like this, too.”
“Then you should do it. You do it, and I'll do me, and... that's the way it should be.” Apple Bloom murmured, trembling a bit as tears rolled down her cheeks, face buried against her brother still, clinging against him as she whispered: “Thank you.”
Big Mac only smiled briefly, shrugging absently, and for a little while, they just stayed like that, with Big Mac slowly pressing out the dough beneath one hoof, the other foreleg wrapped around his sister as she clung to him, not daring and not wanting to let go.