Prince of Errors

by David Silver

30 - We Shall Call You

Mud Briar was watching him, staring and waiting. Maud wasn't, already working on another gem with the soft noises of her polishing to break the silence that would have filled the cave despite the burbling water the prince could hear.

They wanted his name. That... wasn't even a big request, right? Just... his name. It'd been so long since he last used it. It felt somehow brittle in his mind, as if he would break it if he touched it. As if it just shouldn't be disturbed. As if it was something precious he had to protect.

"Did you forget it?" Mud Briar stared at him with placid eyes. He didn't quite have Maud's intense gaze, but it was just as unshaking, locked onto a subject.

Yes, forgot it. That would be a great way out. He could lie and neither of them would ever know. They couldn't read a pony, they admitted it. But he didn't lie. He just looked awkward, failing to muster up the words to take up the excuse offered to him.

Maud put aside the gem she had been working on. "He asked if you wanted to live here."

The prince blinked rapidly. Oh, right, yes, that had been the last question. There he was thinking about something else. "Oh! Thank you, both of you, but I have a nice enough place."

"He doesn't live here." Maud picked up the next gem in need of attention. "Why are you thanking him?"

The prince tilted his head at that. "Well, uh, he's saying he's alright with some strange stallion moving in with his girlfriend. That's nice of him, isn't it?"

Mud Briar raised a hoof to his chin to rest it there. "Why would that be a problem?"

The prince suddenly felt a little more socially savvy than he had a moment before. "Technically, you're a nice person either way."

Mud Briar blinked softly. "Please don't do that."

For all the technicalities he threw out, having it turned back on him apparently wasn't something he liked. "I'm going to put this stick away." He turned and departed at a sedate rate, his stick carried along the way.

Maud worked a rough rag over the gem she was working on. "Sorry about that."

"About what?"

"I said there were no rules, but he brought one up." She scrubbed vigorously a moment before setting the rag aside. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I... actually thought he'd like it." The prince raised a hoof to his cheek, rubbing softly. "I got that wrong."

"I think maybe I will order a cake." She glanced up at him. "With your name on it."

The prince's ears went erect. Was Maud trying to be subtle in that inquiry? That was... laughably bad, he decided. "'Prince of Errors'?"

"I could do that." She tapped a chisel against the gem. "Do you know a better name?"

It was just a name. He just had to open his mouth and share it with the special little rock mare. Nobody was around but her and the softly flowing water, and the water likely had no interest in his name. "It...."

She was quiet, working on her gem. He could guess she was listening, even if she gave no outward sign of doing so. She didn't even have an ear raised towards him.

"J..."

"Juh?" She held up the gem as she examined it with the magnifying glass over an eye.

Why wasn't he saying it? He trembled softly in place. "N-no! It's, uh... Ja..." It was just a name! He could say a name, right? Just a name. Just a name. He clopped his hooves down in frustration.

"If you tell me your name." She set the gem down gently and reached for the next one. "I'll tell other ponies." She quietly resumed work. "Then they will know who you are. Even if they think you don't want to talk, they will say hi, because they know you."

The prince flopped back onto his haunches. That made too much sense. "I thought you didn't 'get' ponies." Who was this and what had they done with Maud?

"I don't." She tinked softly at the gem, tapping away at faint imperfections. "But I know that. Since ponies started to learn my name, they say hi a lot more often in town, even if I'm busy with something." She glanced towards him, still holding the gem up and ready. "You have to say hello back or they get angry as if you said something bad to them. Sometimes, I forget. Rules..."

The unspoken book. The social playbook. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything." She resumed tapping at her gem. "You get used to it. They say hi, or hello, or hey there, Maud. Either way, you say hi back. If they say hey there, Maud, to you, don't say hello back. They must have the wrong pony."

The prince smiled awkwardly, imagining ponies greeting him as Maud for no discernible reason. That would be quite odd. "What if I am you?"

Maud set down her chisel and took up her polishing rag. "You're not me."

"I can be."

Maud turned then to face him, as if somehow just rotating in place without actually standing up or even shuffling in place. "There is only me. There is not two of me."

"I can be," he repeated with a firm nod. "If you were missing somewhere, and somepony mentioned it. Replacing ponies is what I do."

Maud watched him quietly a moment. She put down her gem, dropped her rag, then slowly worked free the magnifying glass over her eye. "Mud Briar is the closest pony to understanding me. You can do better?"

He flinched back, feeling her attention focusing on him with a laser's precision. "I'm not trying to be 'better'. I--"

"Prove it."

"Huh?" He blinked, confused at the idea. "Prove what?"

"Copy me. Show you understand me."

He was certain that would not be enough to imitate a pony, but he felt the change creeping over him. He didn't gain much color, for Maud was also a grey pony, but he was becoming a mare, which continued to be a powerful transition of internals and externals. He didn't make any faces though. He just didn't need to. He was Maud. "Hello."

Maud examined her double with placid eyes. "What do you see?"

"I see Maud," he replied with her even tone.

"I don't see Maud." She reached for him and gently poked the horn on his head. "Maud isn't a unicorn."

He looked up at the horn he had forgotten was there. "That's true," he agreed placidly. "You're Maud."

"I'm Maud." She stood up and began to circle him, studying his copied appearance. "Tell me."

Tell her what? His wanted to follow her with his eyes, but his eyes felt like looking forward at the moment, perhaps under the influence of who he was copying.

Maud moved up on him from behind and casually sniffed his back. He could feel her hooves casually touching his sides then, poking and prodding as if to take measure of him. Part of him, his usual self, wanted to recoil and flee the invasive prodding and the extreme proximity, but Maud's part of his mind was relaxed.

"Alright." She came back around in front of him and sat down facing him. "Now tell me why I can't talk."

He slowly blinked at that. "You're talking right now. I'm talking right now."

She shook her head. "To other ponies. Why can't I smile more often? Ponies do it all the time, but I don't."

"Does that bother you?"

Maud raised a hoof part way only for it to fall again. "No, but I think it should. Tell me."

He raised an ear at her, studying her. Staring at things came easily enough, but he felt like he wasn't actually learning much. He was just... looking, his thoughts somewhere else. He knew that feeling at least. "I feel... alright. I feel... okay." He felt a frown coming but it only emerged faintly. "That isn't quite right. I feel... a lot of things."

Putting a hoof on his chest, his eyes on Maud, he could feel her placid heart beating strongly in his chest. "It's all in there, but it doesn't all come out."

Maud nodded slowly. "Is that... bad? Am I broken?"

The prince tensed powerfully on the inside, even as his borrowed body barely registered his internal screaming. "You are a great pony," he said in the placid tones and voice of Maud. He thought they were there to pry into his head, not Maud's. How had he arrived in that position?

"Pinkie thinks so. My sisters, my other sisters, don't understand me sometimes. Pinkie doesn't understand me. She loves me, but she does not understand me." That faint smile crept onto her snout. "I understand that. I don't understand her, but I love her. Do you love her?"

"I love her," he easily agreed, both him and Maud-him having affection for the strange pink pony.

Being Maud was strangely uncomfortable. Being most ponies was a chance to see the world with clearer eyes. It was like each borrowed body came with a copy of the social rulebook and the world made sense for a little while.

Maud did not have that. He felt even more muffled, as if everything made just a little less sense than it normally did. It was frightening, and it was Maud's every day life. Despite his words, the urge to grab up the other mare was growing by the moment, as if he could chase away the problems if he just squeezed hard enough.

Maud reached out and touched the fake her on the nose, resting the flat of her hoof there. "Thank you."

The prince blinked rapidly, though the motion slowed as he did it, shortened by several blinks and extended over time by the brakes applied by his form. "What are you thanking me for?"

"I got to see myself." Maud put a hoof at her chest. "I appreciate that. You said you are not a wage slave, but you deserve something, for helping."

"Can I hug you?"

Maud blinked, once, slowly. "I expect that from Pinkie, but she does not usually ask."

"I'm not Pinkie," argued the prince in Maud's voice.

"If you want to." She sat down on her haunches, watching him.

He rose to his grey hooves, approaching the mare. "We are even." He reached out a hoof towards her slowly, unsure.

Suddenly she hugged him. The tension somehow managed to ramp up and melt at the same time. He returned the hug, feeling her warmth and knowing that under the steel wool that hid her emotions, there was a mare that cared. There was a pony that wanted to be understood.

"I understand," he whispered in one of her ears.

She squeezed harder, perhaps a touch too hard, but his body was strong and tough, built to Pie standards. For all her hidden emotional vulnerability, he could feel intense musculature at work, both in his own arms and the ones wrapped around him. They hugged tightly in that quiet cave.

For that moment at least, they understood, and it was good.

With a powerful sensation of change, he became himself. Her arms were suddenly squeezing far too tight and he squeaked in pain, being compressed in the vice-like grip of the archetypal earth pony.

Maud gently released him. "Sorry."

"It's alright. You feel better, right?"

"I do..."

That made sense to him, why he changed back. Maud didn't need her copy anymore. "I meant it. I... understand, uh, from your perspective."

"You could help a lot of ponies." Maud directed a hoof at him, pointing. "You can get inside them, help them understand. Or even just know... That's a special thing."

She looked at him with a new intensity suddenly. "Have you been Pinkie before? Have you seen in her eyes? Tell me about it. You said you don't understand her. Did you lie?" She almost almost sounded excited about the idea, as close as she might ever come.

Author's Note:

Maud has feelings. Who knew?! We all knew that, let's be real. Maud is a good pony.

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Comments

[Emtu]

I suspect even Pinkie doesn't fully understand herself, so what hope does the prince have?

Then again, Pinkie getting introspective is probably an incredibly rare occasion.

[MagicLover2128]

Maud is best Pony. 😁

[Captain Nitpick]

I almost posted a comment on the previous chapter about the name thing. Then this one made it pretty explicit. Even in his internal POV he doesn't have a name.

I've got an idea of what's going on, but it's still missing a few pieces.

[Daremo]

All the feels.

[Zapper Frost]

She looked at him with a new intensity suddenly. "Have you been Pinkie before? Have you seen in her eyes? Tell me about it. You said you don't understand her. Did you lie?" She almost almost sounded excited about the idea, as close as she might ever come.

I think maud just channeled her inner twilight

[howard035]

This is an interesting development. Prince can help ponies know themselves better.

[Warrior Kitten]

Honestly, just as terrifying as Discord being serious, is Maud being angry. And I mean truly angry. Not a slight frown and hardened voice, but a full on glare, grimace and raised angry tone. Actually, I think it might be more terrifying than a serious Discord.

[Warrior Kitten]

9528051
Im pretty sure Pinkie has canonically said she doesn’t understand how she does the things she does, so...

[FanOfMostEverything]

This would be a revolutionary form of therapy. Getting an outside perspective on your personal world? I can't tell if it sounds incredibly helpful or incredobly invasive. A little of both, really.

In any case, Prince J's social circle keeps growing. Not easily or much, but it grows.

[tsaukpaetra]

Even walking in someone else's shoes isn't necessarily enough to understand them, especially not completely...
Maud rocks!

[Vaalintine]

"You could help a lot of ponies." Maud directed a hoof at him, pointing. "You can get inside them, help them understand. Or even just know... That's a special thing."

As is, it still wouldn't be happiness. He's never allowed to choose for himself, or to even BE himself. It sounds more like giving up to me.

[KvAT]

This is a really great chapter. You nailed their interactions perfectly. Jesus H Christ this is an amazing chapter.