//------------------------------// // Heart To Heart (Morpheus) Part 1 // Story: dC/dt ≠ 0 // by I Thought I Was Toast //------------------------------// Changing Time’s Notes: For a race capable of reading and even communicating through emotion, changelings can be remarkably guarded. Perhaps that’s understandable, given how little trust they usually receive. Having actually seen them lower their guard, however, I can attest that changelings think and feel just like us. Well, at least they feel like us. It’s just that sometimes they bury those feelings deep, deep inside. Heart to Heart: A Report by Prince Morpheus of House Sycadia While I would no longer hesitate to call any of the Elements friends, ve must admit that I relate to some of them better than others. Twilight is, perhaps, most similar to me with her love of knowledge, while Rarity’s eye for detail makes her a close second. I can show a reckless stubbornness that rivals Rainbow Dash and Applejack, but beyond that ve still puzzle over how ve can be friends with them despite being different in so many other ways. The Pink Menace is the Pink Menace, and ve gave up on understanding or relating to her long ago. I merely take her antics in stride and adapt to them on the fly. Fluttershy, however, is an oddity. She’s meek, soft-spoken, fearful, and shy. She’s everything I cannot afford to be, and yet in some ways, I relate to her better than any of the others. Raising a hoof, ve hesitated before the door to Fluttershy’s cottage. The plausible outcomes of meeting the timidest member of Twilight’s friends were many and varied, but it needed to happen at some point. Besides, given a choice, ve’d much rather take the predictable chances of scaring Fluttershy over the sheer randomness of the Mad Baker. Glancing over the analysts’ web one more time, ve found that their minds continued to scuttle about. They had woven an uncountable number of threads of probability into the strings of events our meeting could take. Even now they tried to spin those strings into patterns of certainties. Taking a deep breath, I ignored their mostly dire predictions and drove my hoof forward to knock on the door. The door responded by juking to the left, growing legs, and running away. I stared after it for a moment before shaking my head and knocking on the wall as if the door was still there. Ve refused to process the absurdity of what had just happened. The absurdity of the moment wouldn’t stand for that, however. It decided to reassert itself as a snapping noise brought a new door into existence in a flash of light. The hinges turned to allow the door to revolve around its knob, allowing a familiar equine-ish head to slither out. “If this is about all the soapy dirt roads, that wasn’t me this time. The Crusaders should have known not to take my joke on keeping the streets clean that liter—” He paused as he actually looked up at me. “Oh, it’s you. Fluttershy said your disguise was as transparent as a ghost, but I didn’t actually think she was being serious.” “Discord!” It was rare for us to taste something new, but, if ve had to describe Fluttershy’s emotions as they bled through the door, ve’d describe them as both cajun and chicken. “What?” Discord grinned so wide that his snaggletooth started to frown. “He clearly has a death wish if he’s going about like that.” Hoofsteps came towards the door. “That’s not the point. I said it was good that he was comfortable enough to not completely hide himself from us. Do we need another talk about twisting other ponies’ words?” Like a mother hen fussing over her young, her emotions poked into the unruly draconequus. Pick. Pick. Peck. Picka-peck. Pick pick. Peck. Peckah. Each thought snatched at the small waves of smugness that crested the veritable sea of Discord’s feelings, while drops of Cajun spice punctuated her thoughts. Discord frowned at her ‘words,’ and grumbled something about feeding the rabbits. With a huff and an eyeroll, he blew a raspberry-spewing raspberry at me, and left in a flash of light. Tilting my head to the side, ve gave Fluttershy the two most appropriate responses. “I’m sorry?” She sighed. “It’s not your fault….” Ruffling her wings, she backed inside and waved me in. “Discord’s been highly protective of our Tuesday Tea ever since I invited another friend over without asking. Did you come to join us? Twilight said she might send you out here the other day.” “Twilight’s been busy,” I responded as vaguely as I could, stepping through the door. It wouldn’t be polite to spoil the secret of the Everfree Hive,after all. It wasn’t mine to reveal. “I came on my own to meet you on a more personal level.” There was indeed a tea set steaming on the table in front of the couch. Ve could politely describe its scent as chaotic, but I couldn’t quite manage polite thoughts with it searing my nasal cavities. Fluttershy, however, seemed completely unaffected. Quickly gathering the set with her wings, she moved to the kitchen and poured it down the sink. Muffled screams rose from the drain, and Fluttershy tsked loudly. “Discord… Unless you have something nice to rewrite reality with, you shouldn’t rewrite it at all. And, if it’s alright with you… spying on us is rude, even if we know you’re there.” The burning sensation in my nose stopped along with the screaming. Putting a new pot on to boil, she led me back to the living room. I moved to sit down as she did, but my chair decided to take things one step further and all but swallow me within the plush confines of the cushion. It was… oddly comfortable… and Fluttershy giggled as I reluctantly climbed my way out. “It’s so adorable how flustered he gets when things like this happen. You’d think he’d like the unexpected, but ‘Perfect chaos takes perfect planning except when it doesn’t suit me.’” The voice she used to imitate the draconequus utterly failed to capture the arrogance I imagined him saying that with. “Yes, adorable…” Ve managed to grind out the polite response, while looking up several less polite but much more descriptive Chitri words ve could use. An awkward silence settled over us as we tried to think of something to say, and our emotions tentatively spoke for us in a similar manner. Her tangy curiosity would occasionally poke forth only to cause my own to spike with a curdled nervousness. The silence continued until the whistle of boiling water broke it. Fluttering over to the kitchen the Element of Kindness looked back at me. “You know, you can take your disguise off, if you want…. I can see you twitching like Rainbow when she wants to spread her wings.” I forced myself not to think of the implications to her offer. Fluttershy couldn’t possibly mean what I thought she meant. Instead, I took it at face value and dropped my disguise to stretch my wings for a few seconds. They were somewhat cramped from continuously staying in my Wicked Smooth guise, and exercising my ability to maintain long-term shifts had never been a priority before. A soft humming filled the air as Fluttershy worked to prepare the tea. It stopped suspiciously short of the doorway as she returned—just beyond the range of normal pony hearing. Balancing a tray with her wings, she deftly poured me a cup with a dexterity few pegasi had. My wings buzzed for the briefest instant as the tea Fluttershy prepared graced my taste buds. Thrumming deeply in appreciation, I relaxed and let my emotions cycle from the cool contentment of fresh spring water to the simple joy of the sugar cookie. Each flash of feeling was woven into a signal, and those signals formed a message. As the pattern came to a close, I let my curiosity through—punctuating the thought with an added question. “I’m glad you like it.” Fluttershy blew gently on her own cup before taking a sip. “I remembered you saying love usually tasted like honey, so I figured you’d like your tea extra sweet.” Nodding, I flicked my wings in agreement as I actually took to surveying the room rather than just uncomfortably glancing around it. At first glance, I had thought her house to be a simple cottage. Ve had, however, noticed grass growing on the roof, and, as ve sent a small pulse of our tremorsense out, ve found her home to be more of a burrow. The walls were insulated with earth, and various critters I couldn’t identify scurried within and without them. It reminded me of home in a way—although it lacked the comforting thump of a Hive’s heartbeat—and I sighed, emotions flickering in a reflection of my thoughts. Fluttershy tilted her head. “Oh! I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong? Is it too hot? Too cold?” Conflicting feelings rushed through me like a storm of bittersweet chocolate rain. Ve opened our mouth to try and say what I failed to coherently feel, but ve couldn’t find the words. “Oh…” murmured Fluttershy. “Maybe you could tell me about your home then? What was it like growing up there? Did you have any friends?” The cup and saucer floating in my grip began to rattle against each other. Taking a second to settle them, ve mulled over her queries—particularly the last. As ve absentmindedly tossed her queries onto the analysts’ web of probability, all progress suddenly ceased. One by one, the analysts cut themselves from the web, until only a single presence remained. The last analyst instead flew into a frenzy, rapidly expanding the web with these new queries in mind. I winced as ve saw where his calculations were taking him. “Oh… I’m sorry…. I shouldn’t have asked, if it bothers you that much.” Fluttershy retreated behind her mane. Tentatively taking another sip, I gently levitated my cup down. My brow furrowed as I recalled memories I tried to avoid nowadays. “It’s complicated,” I finally said. “Hera, Webber, and Spi never actually stopped talking to me, but we don’t talk like we used to. Now that I’m a Lord, Hera just stands there menacingly unless we need to talk security, and Spi is almost always in the field so we mostly talk through orders. Webber is actually talking to us now, but it’s just going through the numbers as always. You know, right now he says there’s a thirty-two point three percent chance that telling you ve can even partially communicate with others through the Hivemind will do more harm than good? Does that even count as a conversation?” The last analyst paused as he finally caught up to where we were in the conversation. He had been so busy with worst case scenarios that he had only just reached my most plausible response now. At this point, he too detached himself from the web, and I sighed. I had hoped he might stay, but, apparently, even Webber found the conversation too personal to believe himself worthy of. Stupid title. I could have really used him here. Grinding my fangs, ve broke our contact with the analysts’ web of probability. “Or rather ve were just talking to him. It’s funny how he made himself scarce as soon as he realized what I’d actually talk about—as if he doesn’t have a right to know about it.” I gave a hollow chuckle. “Probably thinks he doesn’t. I’m a lord. He’s an analyst. It wouldn’t be proper.” Ve managed to stop myself from spitting the last word, but ve could not keep my emotions as in check as ve would have liked. My feelings briefly stormed through the room before ve could get a handle on them. The birds stopped singing. Mice and rabbits ran to their burrows in the wall. The physical silence was palpable as the background chatter of Fluttershy’s animals disappeared. There was no sound. There was only emotion. Anger. Fear. Sadness. It had been awhile since this particular issue had been on my mind, and my emotions warred inside me as I sipped my tea in the silence of Fluttershy’s cottage. In the end, icy dread won out—as it always did. It was always possible they were right. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have friends. My heart quivered in the ice entombing it. Ve took a mechanical sip of tea. It was only polite, after all. Fluttershy was saying something, but ve weren’t really listening. Ve gave some vague response to let her carry on the conversation, but ve were too lost in our train of thought to pay attention to the outside world. Wrapping ourself in filters, ve tried—failing as always—to approach the situation with a proper detachment. It could have been our fault. Ve couldn’t recall the last time I had asked them for an opinion rather than advice. It was such a small change in context, and yet friends sought the opinion of one another. Rulers took the advice of confidants. My vision filled with yellow and pink. A warmth both physical and emotional wrapped around me. Filters fell, and the ice surrounding my heart began to melt as I was given a hug. Fluttershy radiated a simple and unconditional care that suffused me as if I was drinking scalding tea dripping with honey. Even with a bit of curdled milk mixed in, she tried to make it clear that I could make friends. All it would take was reaching out. My host—possible friend—pulled back and looked at me with a sadness so dry I wouldn’t be surprised if her tears could be bottled and sold like finely aged wine. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m here to listen, though… if that’s okay with you….” She ducked behind her mane again as she returned to her seat. “Sometimes all a pony needs to do is talk to somepony who’ll listen.” Ve nodded, head moving the perfect amount to seem both amiable yet polite. “Perhaps another time. Until you asked, ve had not given the matter the thought it deserved.” Her shoulders sagged slightly, and ve blinked as I waited for her to continue. Surely she wasn’t waiting for me to change our mind. “You can be yourself here, you know…” my host whispered. “You don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not, and I’m not just saying that. Discord feels more at home here than anywhere else in Equestria because I let him have so much more freedom when he visits. I shook my head. “Old changeling saying: there is comfort in layered lies. It loses a lot in the translation, especially as it translates closest to lie rather than truth, but in the end, it means sometimes it’s better to only be part of yourself. Right now, opening up serves no purpose but to burden you with feelings I don’t understand myself.” I shuffled slightly. “I hope you understand.” “Not really, but I can try…” Fluttershy murmured the words almost too quietly for even my hearing. Her volume rose slightly as she actually responded. “Sure…. Would you like to help me with the animals? It’s almost time to feed them.” “Can I put my disguise back on?” I asked. “I guess.…” She felt more torn than she looked. There was barely a hint of it in her voice, yet her emotions were like a piece of cloth torn in two. “I suppose I can at least keep the fangs….” It was worth it to get that sugary taste in the air.