Let's Try This Again

by HypernovaBolts11

Chapter VII - Introduced

A small purple and green creature stepped through the door. It hopped down the staircase, finally setting on the ground to Twilight's left. It turned to look at Fangheart, and then tapped the mare on the shoulder. The little creature asked her, "Twilight, what is this guy doing in our basement?"

Twilight leaned to her left a bit, not looking away from the disguised changeling. She whispered to the little thing, "He's the same one I found outside yesterday. I'm trying to explain to him what friends are." She sat up, and said to the stallion, "This is Spike, the best assistant I could ever have."

Spike looked at the guest, and asked Twilight, "Where'd he vanish to when that changeling popped up?"

The stallion coughed and said, "I'm Fangheart." He smiled warmly at the little creature, which he now recognized as a baby dragon. He reached out his hoof to the dragon, who ran over to him to shake it in his claws. He shook his hoof back, a bit weakly, but convincing nonetheless.

Spike ran back over to Twilight and said, "He seems like a nice guy. And if you don't mind me saying so, you'd make a cute couple." He was about to spring back up the stairs, when he spotted the shackles, which were lying in the cell behind Fangheart. He added, "I guess the royal guard was having a fast day."

Fangheart stammered, "Wh-what about the guard?" His smile faltered, and his brown irises flashed green for a short moment, while Spike was looking at his boss. His expression filled with rage for a moment, and he stood up. "Y-you called the guard?" he asked Twilight, more an accusation than a question.

Twilight shook her head quickly, after making sure that Spike wasn't looking, and said, "Spike, Fangheart is going to be our guest for a while. The guard were pretty fast with that changeling last night. Fastest arrest I've ever seen." She cast a small silencing spell, and ushered her assistant upstairs. "And it's not like that," she added as she closed the door behind him.

Fangheart was shouting, his eyes closed, his ears pinned back, but no sound came out, and when he slammed his hoof on the floor, that was also silent. He stopped when he realized that he couldn't make any noise, and began to panic, looking around frantically for a weapon of some kind.

Twilight teleported over to her guest, and placed her hoof on his shoulder. "It's okay, nopony here is calling the royal guard. You're my guest, and I'm going to make sure that you don't have to worry about anypony getting hurt," she assured him, then lifted her silence spell from him.

"Exactly, but I'm no pony, in case you've forgotten." He narrowed his brown eyes at her, and said, "And, I'd prefer that you don't call me Love Bite while I'm still... What's the word, when you're upset by someone's death?"

"Grieving?" she suggested.

He nodded slowly. "That was her nickname for me, and I'd rather go by the name on my flank than one that could stir up memories of the hive while I'm around ponies," he said. He grimaced at her, and then made a few other faces at the ground. "This feels weird, having so many muscles to move in my face."

Twilight raised an eyebrow at him, and he mirrored her expression. "I was going to ask why your facial expressions seemed so limited. Your eyes and mouth were the only things that seemed to move," she said.

He burst into flames again, this time making sure that everything was changed, his internal organs better lining up with his pony exterior. His whole body felt less charged than it had as a changeling, but he also felt more comfortable, like he actually belonged in this body. He looked at her again, crossing his eyes at her when he realized how close she was to him.

Twilight stepped away from him, only for his right wing to stretch out from behind him, reaching towards her, then freeze as if he weren't entirely sure of what he was doing. She looked at his wing, then smiled at him. "Well, something's more pony about you," she said.

Fangheart looked over his shoulder, and immediately folded his wing back at his side. "Hm," he told himself. He looked down his side, stopping when he spotted his cutie mark. "I'm not very good at much of anything, but I've outdone myself with this body. It feels natural, a bit too much sometimes, and this doesn't feel like a disguise," he said, more confident than he had been previously. Perhaps he was getting better used to this body than his original one. It'd always been his go-to choice when making a quick disguise, and he'd become rather used to it.

Twilight squinted at him, and began to circle him, walking clockwise around him. She maintained a respectable distance between them, a good two meters, as she looked over his disguise. She asked him, "Would you be okay with me sketching you in my notes?"

"Not while I'm Fangheart, I hope," he said, chuckling a bit. The laugh didn't sound very realistic, but it wasn't awkward enough that anypony would think him suspect. He kept her in his line of sight as she came up behind him, moving from his left to stand in front of him. "But sure, so long as that dragon isn't going to see me."

Twilight nodded as she sat down in front of him. She said, "I don't recognize this pony." She looked him up and down, just to be sure that she'd never seen the real Fangheart. "Did you kill somepony for this identity?"

He shook his head. "No, Fangheart, in any context, is me. He's my persona, an original disguise. I didn't steal anything from anyone, and I've never killed a pony. I made him completely up. So, you don't need to worry about meeting someone else who looks like this on the street and mistaking them for me," he said.

Twilight nodded slowly, and said, "I'll go make sure that Spike won't be around for the day, and you can ask me questions while posing for that sketch." She stood up, made her way up the staircase, and looked at him for a moment, catching his gaze with hers, and smiling at him before she closed the door.

He smiled experimentally, trying to familiarize himself with this more pony form than he'd usually needed. Most disguises were thrown up in a panic, and only needed to look convincing to a guard, who would usually only give him a second long glance, then move on.

Internal transformations weren't easy to do, and being completely pony was a new experience for him. He'd have to better blend in if he wanted to actually meet another real pony. That required good acting skills, confidently lying about his past, better understanding social rules, customs, and behaviors, and learning how to get by with these heavier wings.

He looked at his back, and spread his wings a bit, keeping them folded and close to his sides, but flight wasn't his immediate goal. He just wanted to get used to all of these new muscles, nerves, and sensations that he'd never possessed in his previous renditions of Fangheart.

He stretched his wings out completely, letting his gaze glide over the light grey feathers. He gave the limbs a few experimental pumps, slowly raising and lowering them, reveling in the sensation of changing air pressure on the leading edges of his wings. He smiled as the new muscles in his back —where his wings met his nervous system— moved at his will.

Suddenly, he felt confined, like he was still chained up, like the great tree above him was resting on his back. He felt trapped, but knew that hitting had changed. He was alone in a basement, as he had been for nearly half a day, but he felt surrounded by everything, the walls, the ceiling, the floor. His wings felt uncomfortable, stiff, and the bones within them felt warm. His new body told him that if he didn't fly that instant, he'd be trapped forever.

He folded his wings again, but the feeling persisted, and only seemed to get worse with every passing moment. He was acutely aware of the several seconds that ticked by, each taking longer than the last. The discomfort was only ailed by his lack of a horn, which he could have used to ease the feeling.

The door finally swung open, and the sound of it closing snapped his ability to contain the itch in his bones. By the time Twilight set foot on the floor, he was a writhing mass of fur and feathers, gently gnawing on the leading edge of his left wing. They exchanged looks, immobilizing one another with their gazes. They didn't say anything, for a lack of anything to say. They both sat down, not breaking eye contact.

He moved first, slowly returning to a more dignified position, sitting with his wings flat against the ground. He felt odd, more so than he had since his arrest, which was saying quite a bit. Something about the mare's lavender eyes felt strong, sharp, and confident. He found himself slowly moving towards her, but didn't feel compelled to stop himself.

When he was merely a meter away from the unicorn, still staring into her purple eyes, he said, "So... These friendships, what exactly do they mean?" He was then sitting right next to her, his right side mere centimeters from her left. He looked down, and his cheeks turned a dark shade of red. "A-am I breaking any rules here?"

Twilight smiled a bit, amused by the poor changeling's complete confusion. She would have confirmed that he was breaking a few rules by coming so close to her, as he was neither her friend nor another mare, but he was just learning how pony social life worked. "No, you're fine for now. Just don't get so close to anypony in public, or to whom you don't feel especially close."

He thought about that for a moment. "I... But if I'm already sitting so close, then how would I feel distant?" he asked her.

She laughed and moved a bit closer to him. She said, "Close, as in, on very good terms, to the point of romantic attraction." She smiled at him, still amazed by his lack of understanding. She found this project to be an interesting exercise in her studies, one that she would have to tell the princess about in one of her letters.

She came back to his first question. "Friendship is like..." she said. She paused, deciding that friendship wasn't really like anything else, and that trying to compare it to something else would only confuse him even more. "It feels nice, pleasant, warm. It's a way of stabilizing one's place in the world. When two ponies are friends, they know that they'll be able to depend on each other, that they matter to each other."

He turned to face her. For a moment he felt safe again, as though he'd been found, like a lost kitten might feel when the fire brigade returns it to its owner. He felt like his mother was there again, and he was safe. He felt like he was home, that he could relax, free of fear or pain.

For the short period of time the feeling held him, he was reminded of an infiltrator who had told him, "Love feels like the whole world, the entire planet, everything you've ever known and seen, is revolving around one other creature. Everything you've ever done, all that you'll ever see from that point forward, would all bow down to the one you love."

Just as soon as the feeling held him, it evaporated. He shook his head frantically, trying to cleanse his mind of whatever spell he must have been under. He stood up, took a few steps forward, and returned to his changeling body in an instant of fire. He turned to the side, and remained perfectly still, posing so Twilight could get to her drawing.

Comments

[tsaukpaetra]

Twilight, you done goofed too! Where's that letter to Celestia?! Are you trying to Stockholm him or something?