//------------------------------// // 15. The Machinations of Fillies // Story: Dear Small Pony Book // by Carapace //------------------------------// Dear Small Pony Book, I unfortunately cannot make any sincere attempt to apologize for my delay this time. You see, my overlady was so pleased with my unmatched  Peek-a-Boo performance that she insisted upon a round of cuddling and snuggling as my reward, and even offered to feed me. Or, at least, I interpreted it as such, and Shining Armor confirmed. My overlady’s love is just as delicious as the rest of her family. Perhaps not as deep and aged as Princesses Celestia or Luna—who could boast such a thing, I wonder?—but no less nutritious for a changeling such as myself. What’s more, she, like her mother and great aunt, shows utterly no sign of tiring after a feeding! A fact which made Princess Twilight’s eyes gleam with interest. Speaking of Princess Twilight, today’s events … well, they began with a rather interesting request from her after breakfast, and I did leave you hanging on the edge of a cliff when last I wrote. A “cliffhanger,” as Princess Cadence saw fit to remind me just a second ago—thank you, Princess. Waking and preparing for the day was carried out as per usual, with me spending a few moments to bathe in the comfort of my room, licking my carapace clean, and hurrying down the hallway to make ready to greet my hosts and overlady. I very nearly bumped into Sunburst, again, per our routine, and sent him jumping left so that he ended up brushing snouts with Starlight. That last bit was most certainly not part of our routine, but I did have to let out a low purr at the delectable scent of embarrassment and affection as their cheeks filled rosy pink. Unfortunately, there was little time to stop and check the taste to confirm which flavor of it they shared, for I had an overlady to observe. Once there, I retrieved Flurry Heart from her crib to a chorus of happy squeals and excited babbling and wiggling hooves. Her wings unfurled and feathers fluffed, her tail wagged as I’ve only seen in eager puppies, as she told me of her desire to see her parents. Naturally, I, a humble changeling and subject, was happy to accommodate her wishes, and placed her upon my back for a changeling ride to her slumbering parents’ bed, so she might awaken them with a squeal and short glide to land atop the snuggling couple. It is here that I note a grave error that would come back to bite me—you see, I was unaware that my hosts chose to stay up late to talk with Princess Twilight. I certainly knew they went to bed quite a bit after I had because they were all catching up, but not so much that her jubilant cries didn’t at least rouse them from sleep enough to expect her oncoming assault of affection. That was, after all, how things were done daily. The routine never failed without some hint given the night before, usually involving Sunburst and I (or just me) watching over Flurry Heart while they enjoyed a quiet evening. Thus, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when my hosts’ awakening  was not with tired smiles and amusement as they caught Flurry in a hug and tickled her for her insolence, but groans and splayed ears, along with Princess Cadence muttering into her pillow what could only be a word that young ears shouldn’t hear, along with something about too much bourbon. Then Shining’s blue eyes found me and fixed me with a look that wasn’t quite angry, but glinted with a hint of wicked intent. Like one of my kin, amused that I’d done something foolish, but not so much that I wouldn’t find myself … well, let’s just say Pharynx wore that look often and it typically ended with me running through the caves from the tatzelwurms.* Breakfast afterward was just a tad awkward, more so because I  found myself met with that look from Shining each time I broke off my conversation with Spike. Worse, Princess Cadence—sweet, loving, almost motherly saintly Princess Cadence!—wore it too! I swallowed a mouthful of slime. My hosts surely didn’t mean me any harm. They did not, of course, but more on later. There are a few other things to discuss. Namely, the, ah, reason those fillies’ looks made me shudder so. Well, they arrived after breakfast, just as they promised. Right after my hosts chose to take Flurry to the lake for a little playtime in the water. But they weren’t alone. I found myself staring, blinking at a small crowd of gaping foals, each letting their tiny mouths hang open and looking at me through big, colorful eyes as wide as dinner plates. Their little ears were perked, as if itching to hear what I might say, or which sounds might come from my my inequine lips. I will admit the slightest bit of pettiness played into my efforts to resist a nervous chitter, Small Pony Book. The rest was pure nerves. Between the staring and those smiles still worn by the fillies, one I noticed shared upon my dear friend, Spike, as well, I was quite certain today would be … an event. “Say there, Twilight,” Apple Bloom greeted in her southern lit. “D’ya mind if Spike ’n Thorax come out ’n play?” My eyes tracked down the table to the Princess of Friendship, who had just looked up from a few folders and books. Several of which seemed to involve some sort of educational rulings, but one folder caught my eye—the very one Princess Cadence and Shining had been so interested. For an instant, our eyes met, and Princess Twilight casually laid her hoof atop the folder, then turned a smile at the fillies. “I suppose so,” she replied with a hint of mock severity. “If you three promise not to bring them home covered in tree sap and twigs.” Don’t worry, Small Pony Book, you’re not the only one confused by that wording. I learned though. As you will. The fillies and Spike giggled—well, he actually laughed a little nervously. “Don’t worry about it!” Scootaloo replied with an airy wave of her wing. “We don’t have anything too crazy planned!” “Just a couple games,” Sweetie added. The way her emerald eyes sparkled made my mouth fill with slime again, quickly swallowed down. She worried me the most. With those eyes, that smile, and the sweetness of her words, there was little doubt she could wrap any unsuspecting pony around her hoof. And if what Princess Cadence tells me of her sister, she has the perfect role model for such things. As I thought this, she pointed over her shoulder at the crowd and said, “And our friends were curious about what it was like having a changeling friend, so when we told them how nice he was, they were just excited to meet him!” I could not help my earfins twitching. Foals interested in meeting me? Well, that was certainly novel! Princess Twilight pretended to think a moment, her smile betraying her intent. “Well, I suppose I could part with my number one assistant and his favorite changeling friend for a few hours.” Before the group could cheer, her eyes flitted to me. For a half-second, I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of doubt. “Thorax? Could I borrow you for just a second?” Curious, I tilted my head. “Of course.” I turned to Spike and the foals, and said, “I’ll be right out, if you don’t mind waiting.” They didn’t, of course. Really, who could fault a fellow subject for answering a royal’s call? As they hurried outside, laughing and chattering away, I trotted over to stand by Princess Twilight’s side. My curious eyes scanned over the folder  underneath her hoof. Once again, the word was obscured, this time only the letters “ool” were visible. It took only a small effort to put two and two together. School? Were my hosts asking Princess Twilight for aide with some policy regarding Crystal Empire schools? Quite insightful of them. To her, however, I bowed and said, “Yes, Princess?” “I’m about to ask a favor of you,” she said softly, her mulberry feathers ruffling. “If it’s not too much trouble.” “It is most certainly not. I’m always at the service of the Royal Family.” There was another flicker of something across her face. Displeasure? “In that case, thank you. It’s a simple request, really.” Her wings rustled, I saw her gaze flit to the door. “Keep an eye on them. And Spike.” I blinked twice. “Are they unpleasant?” “No, but they do have a rather impressive talent for falling into trouble. And with Spike, it doubles.” That, more than anything, made me jolt upright. Trouble? Spike? I set my jaw. There could, and would, be no trouble of any form for my first friend while I was around. Even changeling tricks would be put on hold—actually, it had been quite some time since I pulled one. By the First Mother, not since the invasion! Something to fix later. When Spike wasn’t in danger of trouble. Or was it in trouble of danger? Either way, unacceptable. “Don’t worry, Princess Twilight,” I said with a solemn bow. “You can count on me.” She dismissed me with a nod of thanks, granting me leave to hurry outside to meet my friend and young compatriots. When I found them, they were all huddled around Spike and the fillies, speaking in hushed tones with tails swishing and feathers fluffing. The bright smiles on each little face told the tale of a plan most delicious. A plan in which I was the centerpiece, it seemed. Spike was the first to notice my arrival. He nudged the fillies to bring the conversation to a halt, then turned a smile upon me. “So, Thorax,” he began with all the feigned innocence of a nymph. “The girls and I have been talking, and we were a little curious about how you might do with a certain game.” “Oh?” My earfins twitched. What can I say? My curiosity was piqued. “What game might that be?” Again, those smiles grew into grins. I wondered for a moment if it was too late to scuttle off to join my hosts at the lake. It was far too late, in case you were wondering, Small Pony Book. My dear friend has his claws around my elbow before I could think to make a move, and tugged me to walk down the old dirt path with a crowd of excited, chattering foals all around me. Is it any surprise that I had to swallow yet another mouthful of slime? My time with the fillies and Spike taught me one thing rather quickly, Small Pony Book. Namely, that there are a great many who truly do not understand the differences between ponies and changelings. Including my dear first friend. It’s not entirely their fault, really. We changelings are an incredibly secretive bunch. A requirement, when one considers that our entire existence has involved being feared for our appearances, hated for our actions (trickery, thievery, kidnapping, charming, and otherwise), and destitute and starving for rather sizable stretches. So, I would like to impress upon you that the foals and Spike were not at all to blame for failing to realize that I was, in fact, not a “blank flank.” The thought was all that kept me from letting out a furious hiss as cake batter and sweet strawberry frost dribbled down my cheeks. I ran a hoof across my brow and flicked it, sending a spatter of the sticky, sweet substance across the kitchen floor of Sugarcube Corner, then lashed my tongue along my snout to clean it. Tasty, indeed. Almost the same flavor of Princess Cadence’s love, but it quite paled in comparison. “I believe,” I said slowly, somehow managing to keep my irritation out of my tone, “that my previous point stands. I will not be earning any cutie mark, and I do not believe cooking would be it anyway.” My brows flatlined. “Nor would it be in observing experimentations with ingredient amount or oven heat, Scootaloo.” The little pegasus rustled her wings. “Sorry,” she said, with a nervous chuckle. “I was just thinking if I put it on high it’d speed things up a little.” Well, she wasn’t wrong. “Things” were indeed sped up. It just so happened those “things” were less us baking a lovely cake, more me getting a cake batter shower. But I stayed calm. I did not hiss, nor did I snarl and bare my fangs, or even think of biting them and dosing them with venom. This, I believe, could be considered great progress. Also, who would actually bite fillies? That just seems rude. And mean. Our venom does not do kind things to small prey or grown ponies, I shudder to think what it might do to a filly. Princess Cadence was quite pleased when I noted this. “Yeah, well, maybe we should get out of here,” Spike advised, his slitted eyes flitting to the doorway out to the main room. “Before we get in trouble again.” Before I could ask why they would be in trouble again, I found myself grabbed by the hoof and hurried outside by a bunch of frantic foals. The most I could do was give a low, discontented hum as I cast a look back over my shoulder. I was supposed to be the one in charge and looking out for them. And yet, there I was, a changeling wearing a silly look in the middle of the crowded streets of Ponyville. A few ponies did stop and look. Not so much stare, I noticed, but there was more than a hint of curiosity, wonder, and just a bit of nerves as well. Had Twilight spoken with them? Or was it just natural wonder of how I would behave, just as I did them. Was this what I had to look forward to? Or would it be different everywhere else? I’d gone to the shops in my Crystal Hoof disguise while in Canterlot, after all. Though that was more so they wouldn’t recall me. Ponyville was a little removed to not recall such terror. So, when I offered a sheepish grin and a tiny wave, I was pleased to note only a third stiffened or winced. Others offered polite nods and turned away, as if their interest had waned. I was quite fine with this. “So now what do we do?” Apple Bloom asked, kicking at the dirt. “We’ve tried cookin’ ’n hang glidin’, but ‘e don’t seem much for either.” Hang gliding. I fought the urge to bring a hoof to my face. That had been a fine disaster. One which ended with me stuck in a tree, wriggling to try to get twigs and leaves out of the holes in my legs while they all babbled apologies and went to fetch a ladder to get me down. I ended up falling and managing to hover upright long before they returned. But they were trying. And they were quite friendly. So, I would be gentle. “I’m afraid I must remind you yet again that changelings have never gotten cutie marks,” I said with as much patience as I could muster. The foals’ little faces began to fall, a pang shot through my heart.  If I could suffer my overlady’s displeasure when bath time came, I could manage this. Clearing my throat, I turned to Spike for support. “Perhaps a game would be more fun.” Not to mention far less likely to end with me covered in muck or stuck in a tree. I hoped. My friend tapped a claw against his cheek and hummed in thought. “We could.” He glanced at the foals. “What sort of game would you guys want to play?” I will admit, without shame, the I sent more prayers to the First Mother that it would be something nice and easy, and not at all involving something ridiculous. Or anything that involved me covered in something sticky or picking something prickly out of my legs. My hopes nearly died a most painful, terrible death as I saw those smiles return. “I have a pretty fun idea,” Apple Bloom drawled. “Changelings are awful good at hidin’ right?” Arching a brow, I nodded. “How ‘bout at findin’ things?” What was going through that little filly’s mind, I wondered? Aloud, I replied, “My nose has never failed me, nor has my tongue. For tasting emotions,” I clarified, when they gave me funny looks. “Why do you ask?” She turned to grin at the others. “Whatcha wanna bet we can get ‘im a hide ’n seek cutie mark?” A loud cheer went through the crowd of little ponies. I blinked and took a step back. Finding ponies? Hiding? Were they aware of what they were asking me to take part in? “Uh,” I began, nonplussed. “How exactly does this work?” “Well,” Sweetie said, “first round, you can hide.”  Before I could protest on how ridiculously stacked in my favor that was, she raised a hoof and added, “No shapeshifting. And it’ll be all of us against you. We’ll play around town.” “Base can be the lil’ fountain at the center,” Apple Bloom put in. Scootaloo buzzed her little wings and waggled her ears. “We’ll give you to a hundred to find a spot and get hidden. Sound fair?” Fair for whom, I wondered, taking a look around town square. Ponyville wasn’t exactly big, but I could already pick out a half dozen or so hiding places. Some discrete, others fairly obvious in that way none would ever think to consider them. And with foals … Well, if they were anything like nymphs, I can tell you which they’d search out first, Small Pony Book, and it’s not the one you’d expect. Worse for them, I already had the perfect spot in mind. A hundred seconds? No shapeshifting? Easy. I’d maybe need thirty or forty, depending on whether or not I was permitted to fly. So, a quick question later, and confirmation that there would be no flying on anyone’s part, and I amended my time to about sixty seconds. If only so I  could double back to get to my hiding spot. Cheating was just as big a part of hunting games for changelings as the actual seeking. I had little qualms suspecting that the near-vibrating crowd of foals would sneak a peek or two to see which direction I was headed. And, honestly, Small Pony Book, I might have been just a tad disappointed if I hadn’t caught Spike doing so just a few seconds later. “Very well,” I said with a nod. “I’m ready.” Grinning and giggling as if they’d already caught me, they turned to face the fountain and closed their eyes, a few even leaning and resting their hooves upon the edge as they began to count. My hooves had already begun to move before they finished the word “one.” My hiding spot had picked out before they’d even finished explaining the rules. The most difficult thing would be tricking them all into thinking I’d gone elsewhere. But that, Small Pony Book, is why it was important to study one’s opponent—you see, ponies are often loud, colorful, and ever-present. There are exceptions, of course, such as Miss Fluttershy—whom I nearly ran into as I skirted around a row of houses and had to give a quick apology lest the little rabbit on her head  bounce a carrot off mine—but it’s a general rule of how things worked. So, when ponies ran, there was typically a lot of noise. When changelings run, there’s no noise unless we want there to be. And at that moment I bolted left and skirted those houses, I wanted there to be a lot of noise. Whether it was ponies yelping as I went dashing by, my breaths coming heavy, or my hooves pounding against the dirt path, the need could not go overstated. Until I was out of earshot, they had to believe I’d come this way. All the while though, my eyes were locked on my hiding spot. And as soon as I’d gotten well out of earshot, I adopted a more  changeling approach. My steps were silent, my breathing light through my snout, and eyes as wide as dinner plates, as ours always grew when focused on a goal. In this case, the nice observation tower atop Town Hall. Specifically, the roof. I asked if I was allowed to fly for a reason, Small Pony Book. They’d been so distracted by that they’d never thought to say I couldn’t climb. The grin which split my face was only a tad smug. Maybe just a little more than a tad. “How the hay do you keep doing this?” a colt named Rumble cried, stomping his hooves as he leveled me with his best, most heated glare. If not for my time spent in the hive, I just might have felt it, too. Innocently, I tilted my head. “I hide, I wait for the right time to move, then I move when you’re not looking,” I replied. The poor colt had every reason to be unhappy. I’d walked by and tapped his shoulder as I passed to make him look the opposite way. He’d been standing guard—a rather blatant form of cheating, I feel I should note—and I was feeling just a little cheeky. “Am I not supposed to do that?” The foals grumbling was only surpassed by a snort from the little pegasus. “Yeah, but you’re way too good!” “… You are aware that playing this game is just asking me to do what I’ve known to do since hatching, right?” I must confess, I took more than just a little satisfaction in how he sucked in his lips and turned to look away, his charcoal tail flicking irritably. “Let’s focus on the important bit,” Spike said, sliding between us. His emerald eyes glinted. “So? Did you get one this time?” If not for my previous mishap, I might not have understood his meaning. The foals leaned forward, eager to see, none quite so excited as those three fillies. With a shake of my head, I turned to bare my side to them. My polished, black carapace, gleaming in the warm sunlight and bare of any blemish. Or, more importantly to them, bare of any cutie mark. The disappointed groan that arose from the foals made my chest feel fuzzy. It was rather silly to ignore my repeated statements that we changelings didn’t get cutie marks, but still. They were trying. And they were  so sure they could help me find my place through playing and being silly, like a foal. Yes, the temptation to shift one in place to satisfy their want for me to experience the same joy they knew did cross my mind. However, if I must learn some hard lessons about my way not being right, they must learn and respect that there were some things about changelings which simply wouldn’t change. Although, I will say the love in each of them was quite appetizing. The love of friends wanting so badly to help. My heart ached. “Perhaps if I try seeking this time,” I offered before I could think of something else. Their ears perked. Scootaloo fixed me with a challenging look. “You really think you can find and catch all of us before we get to base?” she asked, pawing at the dirt. I arched a brow. “My nose has never failed me,” I reminded her. “And you cannot fly either.” “Ha! I won’t need to fly!” Her wings buzzed and magenta tail lashed. “I’ll be the first pony back here, you watch!” So she claimed, but … well, spoilers. You’ll have to excuse me again, Small Pony Book, I’ve been called away again. That I will explain shortly. Pinkie Pie insists that I come away from you and Flurry and join her in trying a cupcake. Until next time, my friend. *Excuse me, what? You and I are having a talk after this party, young changeling. - Shining Armor