He Is What He Hides

by Acologic

III: Like Fine Pottery

‘This isn’t about you!’

‘Oh, because everything’s about me, isn’t it? Every single thing I say can only be about me! DON’T patronise me, Hazel, I’m the father here! You think I don’t know what it’s like?’

‘Don’t you dare –’

‘YOU’RE SITTING ON YOUR ASS, BOY!’ he roared, and Gem could hear his furious spit warp the final word.

‘Your father wants what’s best for you,’ Twilight whispered, pressing herself against him. ‘You’ll prove him wrong.’

‘I d-don’t want to do it – he’s going to make me.’

‘Then don’t. It’s your decision. It isn’t his.’

‘But –’

‘It’s yours, Gem. Not his.’

‘YOU’RE GOING TO START PULLING YOUR WEIGHT AROUND HERE, DO YOU HEAR ME? I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS SMART-ASS FROM SCHOOL! YOU’LL PAY YOUR DUES OR GET OUT!’

‘Don’t speak to my –!’

I reach for the cabinet, whimpering as my father’s fist batters the bathroom door. I’m too scared to check the lock. I fumble around for whatever I can find, desperate to escape. Twilight grabs my hooves to stop me and I slip the bottle. Pills clatter against the tiles. The empty plastic rolls across them like a severed head. I drop to collect a mouthful, spluttering, my face contorted.

‘Gem.’

Twilight’s expression is unreadable. It freezes me, stooped, my muzzle inches from the floor. She moves slowly. Gracefully. Her legs wrap around my torso, and I am lifted to my hooves. She smiles as only she can, eyes dark and shining – and as they close, her lips meet with mine. My eyes widen. The thumping stops.

‘GROW UP!’ my father shouts, but Twilight does not let me go.

• • •

‘Another eventful day in Ponyville, Spike. I wasn’t sure I’d ever decide, but now you can go too!’

Spike, though he pulled a face, sounded happy. ‘Well, I guess you’ll have to drag me along. And besides, it’d just be rude not to accept an invitation from Princess Celestia.’

Twilight laughed. ‘Oh, Spike. You never change.’ Humming, she magicked away the ladder. Fluttershy and her critters had used it to tidy the bookshelves. ‘At least this room is clean now. I never thought receiving favours could be so stressful.’

‘But I cleaned the place earlier!’

‘Spike, your “cleaning” is –’

There was a knock at the door. ‘Who could that be?’ Twilight wondered aloud. Spike shrugged.

‘Maybe you left something behind when we went out for dinner?’

‘You’re right. It could be one of the girls.’

‘I’ll get it,’ said Spike, reaching for the handle. ‘Hey, maybe it’s Rari—! Oh. It’s you.’

‘Is this a bad time?’ A strained, breathless voice – to whom it belonged Twilight could not see. Spike was shifting his legs.

‘You’re, um – Gem?’

‘I’m here to – to ask about that book again,’ the voice stammered. Twilight wondered why it was taking Spike so long to let the pony in.

‘Well, Spike? Who is it?’ she asked, walking to the door. She could sense Spike’s embarrassment.

‘It’s – it’s Gem!’ said Spike, his eyes closing as he smiled. ‘You know Gem! He came to see you earlier today, remember? But I told him you weren’t in.’

‘I don’t remember.’ She stopped at a guilty look from Spike. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said, rolling her eyes at him. She stepped into view to take over. ‘Hi, Gem,’ she said, smiling as Spike retreated. ‘I’m sorry I missed you earlier. I was helping a –’

‘Helping a friend on the farm, yes,’ said the pony at the door, his head tilted downward, as if he were afraid to meet her eye.

‘That’s right,’ said Twilight. ‘You wanted to speak to me?’

‘Yes,’ gushed the pony, and this time his head came up. His profile was unfamiliar, yet there was something strange in the way he looked at her. Had they met before? ‘I –’ He gulped as though struggling to say something important. ‘I had a question about a book. If you have it, that is. I mean, do you have it? I mean –’

‘A book?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why don’t you come inside?’ Twilight asked, deciding it was best to make amends for Spike’s blunder. She hoped the pony wasn’t offended. On the contrary, he seemed not to have noticed.

‘Thank you. Twilight,’ he said.

‘You’re very welcome,’ she replied, walking to her shelves. She realised she didn’t know which book the pony, Gem, wanted. ‘Which book are you looking for?’ she asked, turning. Her eyes met his again, wider than a startled rabbit’s. She agreed with her first assessment, only days ago: Ponyville had its share of odd ponies. Then she remembered she was best friends with Pinkie, the oddest of them all, and felt a little guilty. She had jumped to judging this one on his appearance. That was another lesson she’d learn in due course.

‘I’m working on a project just now,’ he said, ‘and I’d like to borrow, um, a book about structure – um, musical – if you have one. It’s fine if you don’t, of course.’ He laughed.

‘I have a whole section on music,’ said Twilight, smiling at him. ‘You’re welcome to take a look.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Not at all!’

Gem appeared bewildered for a moment. Then he shuffled beside her and stared at the shelf. The silence lasted a little too long for Twilight’s comfort, so she tried to fill it. Small talk she had never liked, but she had a duty to make her guest feel welcome. She’d learned already that friendship required effort. A pony couldn’t decide to be friends with another and follow up with nothing.

‘This one’s quite good,’ she said, levitating out a volume on sonata form. ‘I read it once, quite a while ago. I haven’t written any music, but I find the subject fascinating! I find most subjects fascinating!’ She realised that she was talking only about herself. ‘Do you like reading, Gem?’ she asked.

‘What?’ Though Gem’s face gave every sign of rapt attention, her words seemed not register. He shook his head. ‘I – yes. Yes, yes, I do. I do read. About music mostly.’ He paused. ‘Oh,’ he added and took the book from Twilight’s magic’s grip. He stood there, and Twilight had the bizarre image of a scarecrow in a barren field. He wasn’t speaking, so what should she say? Her eyes moved to Spike’s for help.

‘Gem says he’s from Canterlot,’ he chipped in.

‘So are we!’ said Twilight, beaming. She turned back to Gem, registering the pale coat and peculiar posture. This time he looked familiar, yet still she could not place him. ‘What brings you to Ponyville? It’s a nice place, isn’t it? I mean, Spike and I really haven’t been here for very long, have we, Spike, but we really – um –’

She broke off. For no clear reason the pony in front of her had started to cry. The tears were as quiet as their source, yet tears they were. His eyes were wet and shining. Twilight’s insides squirmed with surprise and embarrassment. What had she said? Again, she looked to Spike for help, but he was equally nonplussed.

‘Sorry,’ said Gem, his voice calmer and steadier than she had heard it. He wiped his eyes. ‘It’s nothing. Just something that happens when my eyes get tired. Happens quite a lot, actually, and I was up late last night. Reading, of course.’ His laugh restored a great deal of confidence in Twilight. Their guest seemed fine after all, not offended by some careless comment of hers. Relief took over and she laughed with him.

‘Well, that’s a good book, anyway,’ she said, smiling, ‘and if you need anything else, just drop by during the day. We’re usually here, aren’t we, Spike?’

‘I will,’ Gem said, and to her surprise he turned to leave without ceremony. Twilight was glad to see him go. She didn’t think she could extend their conversation for much longer. After what felt like a near miss, she did not want to risk causing real offence. Learning how to be a good friend would be long, hard work, and her first lessons had scarcely concluded. ‘Thanks,’ he said, smiling as Spike opened the door. ‘Bye, Twilight. And thanks. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome!’ said Twilight, waving. ‘It was very nice to meet you, Gem!’

The door swung shut and Gem, shuffling in the darkness, vanished from view. Twilight’s subconscious became aware that she had sensed a ghost of deep emotion. When and behind whose eyes she did not know. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. She dealt with it by making herself and Spike a hot chocolate each.

• • •

‘Gem says he’s from Canterlot.’

‘So are we! What brings you to Ponyville? It was very nice to meet you, Gem!’

‘You’ve forgotten me!’ Gem screamed at her as she took her rest. He knew it was no use. Her warm body rose and fell gracefully, beautifully. The savage urge to strike melted into crippling misery. Gem slid onto the cold stone beneath her silken sheets. He listened to her slow, steady breathing. This time her intoxicating purity, rather than rescue him, made him feel filthy and out of place. He shivered and distanced himself from the bed, cringing into a corner. He prayed that his effluvium had not poisoned her in her sleep.

‘But how is that possible?’ he squeaked, his head throbbing, churning like an engine.

Her body rose, carried on the lightest breeze, and like a blooming flower her eyes opened. The glow was so fierce that Gem cried out and shielded his face. Then he fell forward and vomited. The sickness became fragrant moss as Twilight floated through it and embraced him.

How magical that embrace was. The most natural, effortless, familiar state. Where they were – who knew? The sea, the castle, the meadow. Oh, the simplicity and the purity. Gem’s heart beat so fast his blood returned, and he was whole and powerful once more. He kissed Twilight. His monstrous, vigorous form enveloped her more gently than the wind by which she had risen. She kissed him back, her lips hot and submissive.

‘Forgotten what?’ she purred. She was his, and he was hers.

And then it was dark and cold, and Gem was clutching the hard bole of a tree in Ponyville. He doubled up, quiet, furious. The page against his cheek, warm with Twilight’s spell, made his grieving even more agonising.