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// Princess Metine 
// Story: Lavenderly Metine 
// by Lazauya 
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        My name is Princess Metamorphine, but you can just call me Princess Metine, because Auntie didn’t know about morphine when she named me, so now some of the changelings joke about how it sounds like I’m some hardcore underground new age alternative to heroin. They don’t do it when they think I’m listening—I am always listening—because they think that it’d hurt my feelings. 
        Regardless, I’m a pretty average changeling princess. I’m the second oldest of my sisters, and my mane is this beautiful light blue with these distinctive, blue-green highlights. I try to keep my mane pristine, but my sisters and Auntie make fun of me for it. It get’s really annoying; I mean, why can’t a changeling just be naturally pretty, without magic?
        Just because they make fun of me, though, doesn't mean they look down upon me. In fact, not to brag or anything, but I’m probably one of the most, if not the most, looked up to changelings in the hive. All of my sisters ask me for advice, and Auntie has said numerous times that I’m going to be the next queen, and it’s… well…. It’s a lot of pressure, to be honest. I try to keep my cool, and it doesn't really show except when I’m around Auntie. Me and Auntie are really close.
        We’re so close that she once told me in confidentiality that she liked to sing. I laughed. She made a weak laugh, and it got awkward. I then said, “I’m sorry, Auntie! I didn't mean to laugh, you just don’t seem like the type to sing. I’m sure your voice is beautiful, just like you.”
        “Why, thank you, Metine.” She was trying not to blush.
        “Could you sing for me?” I asked, trying to flatter her. Changelings are so oblivious to flattery in the hive that it’s ridiculous.
        “Why, yes, I’d be delighted to.” I don’t know if Auntie was seeking my approval or not, but it didn't matter, really. She was happy to share something with me, so I was happy too.
        She sang, and, wow, I had a lot of misconceptions, clearly, because she could sing!
        Then again, she was a changeling, and I wasn't sure if she used her natural voice or not. So, I took the honest route, and asked. “That’s beautiful, Auntie. Is that your real voice?”
        She smiled back at me, clearly happy. “Yes, Metine. It is my real voice. I practice when I’m alone.”
        “It’s amazing, Auntie. I’m truly envious.”
        It turned out that she just wanted me to be jealous, as she stopped trying to impress me after I said that. “Thank you, Metine. I’m glad I could share this with you.”
        “And I’m glad so you could share. Thank you so much, Auntie.”
        “It was my pleasure.”
        Then I had to go and do some princessy stuff, so I left.
        Really, being a princess is everything I imagined it would be. Although, I didn’t know it would involve giving birth to a metric ton of nymphs, but hey, what are you going to do?
        And really, I grew to like birthing duties. Sure, it was pretty gross, and a little painful at times, but getting to see their cute little faces—after all the goop had been cleared off, of course—was worth it. They always smiled. Big smiles, too, like the sac was really that bad and they were just overjoyed to get out. Smug little things….
        I remember my first birth. I was really scared, and the first nymph’s incubation always lasts the longest because the body is still developing. It hurt. A lot.
        My older sister reassured me that the second was much less painful, and the rest after that were just minor discomfort. She was right.
        Maybe it’s pretty gross and weird, but hey, I’m creating the next generation of changelings, and they’re basically my slaves. But don’t tell them I said that, because that would make them sad, and it would make me a little sad too.
        Anyway, so in the hive a princess’s first born are special and often are a lot more readily promoted, except Queen Pupa’s, who was disabled. That was a long time ago, though, and I’m sure that that was really sad.
        So, anyway, you’re expected to name your first three, and my older sister, Ecdys, thought it would be funny to tell me that at the last minute and act like she “forgot”. I don’t want to say that I hate her or anything, but she gets on my nerves sometimes.
        I ended picking a hastily chosen name, just choosing something boring and normal. His name was Chitin. I know, I know, pretty original, considering a sixteenth of the hive has the name Chitin or some variation of it, but after I did that, no other caregiver dared to name a nymph Chitin. Maybe it’s out of respect, but absolutely nochangeling in the hive takes anything I do with a grain of salt: even my sisters!
        I have to be so careful about everything I do. I love being a princess, but it’s a lot of stress sometimes.
        Yeah, after my first birth I made sure to pick out names for my first and second that weren’t bad.
        I named the second—a filly—Grace, because…. well, I wanted her to be graceful and beautiful like me someday.
        The third and last, another colt, I named Venom. Because… he hurt more than I thought he should have, and I wanted to spite him. In the end, he actually got the better end of the deal because he got a pretty cool name that he could use to intimidate the other nymphs with. I had a name picked out for him, originally, too. It would have been Phillip.
        Yeah, me and my younger sister, Princess Hemi, short for some word, and I are really close. We hang out a lot. Also, her being the youngest means that I get to teach her a lot of stuff about the hive. I feel a little bad that I don’t know what her full name is, but she doesn’t either, so it’s okay.
        My middle sister, Princess Naia—Auntie just dropped the “d” from naiad—and I don’t talk much. Ecy—what I call my older sister to annoy her—and her and a little close, but Naia seems really depressed sometimes. I want to cheer her up, but she never let’s me get close. I just hope she’s not jealous of me.
        My two aunts, Queen Chrysalis and Princess Cocoon, are really nice. They both give me good advice and are really supportive. Cocoon and I don’t talk much, but when we do she’s really insightful.
        One time, I went to Auntie because I was really stressed, so she recommended that I see Cocoon. I did, and Cocoon told me that I needed to step away from the hive for a bit and get some fresh love. 
        I took the place of this idiot stallion’s mare friend, and he really loved her. Wow.
        He was an interesting stallion; he was a scientist who studied enchanted gems. I think his name started with something weird like an “x” sound.
        Anyway, I’m glad I listened to Cocoon because it was nice to get some love from the source. It was a lot different than what I received from the subjects.
        Later, I asked Auntie if I could join the feeders, and she said “Well, Metine, okay. But don’t do anything too dangerous, okay?”
        I couldn’t believe it, to be honest. She didn’t even let Ecy do that!
        I’m not sure if that meant that she liked me more or less, and I still don’t know.
        However, I haven’t actually been feeding, lately. I was going to go out a few weeks ago, but I had another birth, so I decided not to.
        It’s not all fun and games, though. After Aunties Canterlot thing, a lot of the soldiers were lacking morale, including her, so I had to make a speech. It was hard. There were just so many staring at me I wanted to turn into a little bee and fly away before anyone could notice, but the smallest thing I can be is a sickly filly, and I know I would have still been visible.
        So I gave the speech. The first line was pretty memorable, apparently. “Changelings, I welcome you. Please, before we begin, I must say that I love all my subjects deeply. And though I my love may not be tangible, it exists, just as a thought does.”
        It was a bold statement, although, I honestly didn’t know that at the time. No speech in changeling history ever had “I love all my subjects deeply” because, well, changelings can’t give love to each other. But I said it, and after the speech, everychangeling screamed in cheer, and Auntie had a big smile on her face. Hemi was way too young to know any better then, but I think she would have been happy too.



        So apparently Hemi is short for Hemimetamorphine. I need to tell her never to tell that to anychangeling, though, otherwise they’ll start making fun of her, too, and I think it might make her sad.
        Still, my heart starts racing when I think about how Auntie named her after me. Auntie said that she did it so that, maybe, Hemi would turn out as perfect as me, and it made me blush profusely. I almost wish I didn’t ask.



        I haven’t been completely honest. My name is Metine, yes, and Auntie did name me, but Auntie isn’t my real aunt. I was adopted. It’s kind of sad, but my parents didn’t love me, anyway, so I’m happier being a place where I’m appreciated and cherished.
        I don’t know…. I guess Auntie was sad after Princess Coly went missing. I asked Ecy and Cocoon about Coly, and Ecy said that she remembered Coly as always being sad. I asked Cocoon, and I could tell she was conflicted when I mentioned the name. It took a while for her to reply, but she said the Coly was a promising princess, a lot like me actually, but had bad self esteem issues. I asked her what happened to Coly, and Cocoon said she ran off. I didn’t question her after that, as I could see she cared deeply about Coly, and it was hurting Cocoon to talk about Coly. 
        I didn’t really see why, because it’s not like Cocoon was Coly’s mother or anything; she was just her aunt.
        But anyway, Auntie found me and made me a princess. I already had the traits of a princess, so it was easy just adopting me without too much extra metamorphosis. I have a hunch that that’s why Auntie named me Metamorphine, but she won’t say. She told Ecy, but that… changeling won’t tell me. Grr. 
        I don’t remember much before I was a changeling. I know I was an ugly filly because all the other foals I met told me so. I know that my mother got replaced once, and I managed to figure it out, though I don’t remember how.
        After I saw what a changeling was, I was so jealous. I realized that, really, changelings are the most beautiful creatures. They define beauty. They can be anypony they want, so they must be the definition of beauty.
        I wanted to be a changeling so, so bad. It was always a fantasy of mine. After I had the revelation, it’s all very blurry to me. I remember a few, images, probably from when I began my metamorphosis. The next thing I knew, Auntie was holding me in her forehooves, and I was scared: very, very scared. When I looked up to see her fangs, though, she looked happy. Not evilly happy, but happily happy. The genuine type. And I couldn’t just see it, I felt it, like I had some organ that could sense happiness.
        She looked down at me, and asked, “Coly? Is that you?”
        I replied, still scarred, “N-no, my name are Lav-der.”
        She frowned, and looked like she was about to cry. Then, she hugged me. Tightly, too, and I couldn’t breathe. But I knew she wasn’t going to hurt me, at least.
        She finally loosened her grip, and asked me, “I’m sorry, Lavdur. What hive are you from?”
        “Hive?”
        “Yes, you are a changeling, aren’t you?”
        “I are?!” I yelled.
        “Well, yes, you are.”
        “No, I a filly…. a dumb, stupid, ugly filly.”
        “No you’re not. You’re a changeling. You’re not a pony.”
        “No, I am, I want to be changeling….”
        “Lavdur, look at yourself. You’re a changeling.”
        I looked at my body and was astonished at what I saw. I gasped. I was a changeling, just like I saw that night. I realised, then, that I was finally beautiful. Nopony could ever call me ugly again. “I am changeling! I am changeling!” I squealed in joy. 
        “Little ‘pony’, why would you want to be a changeling?”
        “I want to pretty like you… I don’t want ugly….”
        Auntie was skeptical, and by skeptical I mean she did not believe a word I was saying, but confirmed that I was telling the truth after looking at my memories.
        A few days later, she made me a princess and gave me a proper changeling name.
        I don’t know if Ecy knows. She probably doesn’t.
        I know Auntie knows, and she doesn’t care. She’s proud of me, unimaginably so, and this is where I’m happy. Here, in the hive, where I belong.
        And I wonder and hope that wherever Coly is, she’s as happy as I am.