The Face I'll Wear

by ZOMG

Rating: everyone
Tags: Thorax, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Shining Armor
Length: 3488

Now that he's been granted permission to live in the Crystal Empire, Thorax must decide how he wishes to present himself to its inhabitants.

Flat teeth or fangs? Velvety smooth coat or firm carapace? Mane or headfin?

Thorax frets over which face he wishes to show the crystal ponies his age. Fortunately, there's somepony willing to offer a word or two of comfort and support, as well as teach him a life lesson that will stick with him forever.

Preread by Fahrenheit and Timaeus.

Loosely inspired by this piece by Starshade001. Used as cover art with permission from the artist.

Youtube reading by Chaotic.

Published 2016-11-08 03:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-11-08 03:00:01 UTC

Which of Me Would They Like Best?

The face in the mirror staring back at me isn’t mine.

His face is a mask of fear and anxiety. His teal ears are pinned back, laying flat against his steel blue mane, the color has all but drained from his nervous young face as he tries to reign in his racing heart. Every breath comes in short, ragged gasps.

This face’s name is Crystal Hoof. His is the face I wish I could call my own, the one ponies wouldn’t fear.

In a flash of green flame, velvety pony coat melts away and smooth, chitinous carapace returns. Flat teeth sharpen and fangs poke out from behind his upper lip as his mane recedes to reveal a bald head and dorsal fin. His soft ears lengthen and thin out until they become jagged, matching earfins. A quick look at his hooves reveals a series of alien holes while a glance over his shoulder shows a teal backing and translucent wings.

This face is mine, the one I was born with.

Crystal Hoof has been my favorite mask ever since the day I met Spike, my very first friend. He has since been the only mask my benevolent hosts and rulers, Princess Cadence and Prince-Captain Shining Armor, have afforded me as part of a series of rules I agreed to so I could remain in their Crystal Empire. They have a funny way of ruling, these ponies. They gave three rules, the first two to protect their citizens and myself:

“You will reside in our palace, where we can keep watch over you and so you have a place to return should trouble arise.”

“While you stay here, you will remain either in natural form or in your chosen persona, Crystal Hoof, so that we and our guards know where you are. This will ensure we know whether or not any accusation of mischief on your part is justified or fabricated.”

It’s the third one, though, that has me in my present state. My hoof trembles, I run my forked tongue over my fangs as I look myself over again. I remember how it came about. They were trying to see what all I knew about pony society—all the little niceties like manners, money, and such, along with science, math, and history.

My lack of knowledge in pony customs was just downright embarrassing. How was I supposed to know that “Thorax, put Flurry Heart to bed” didn’t mean to wrap her up in a warm cocoon pod and hang her upside down beside mine? She seemed quite taken with the idea at the time. That, however, they could have accepted and taught me themselves.

My education in those other pesky subjects, however …

Crystal Hoof returns in a flash of green fire.

My hoof won’t stop trembling. I should have lied when they asked for my age. By changeling norms, we are adults as soon as we conduct our first successful hunt, a trial in which we beguile a pony and feed on their love, then away without being caught. Ponies, on the other hoof, decide based on number of years.

Evidently, ponies in their fourteenth year aren’t yet considered adults. They are “teenagers” or “young adults,” depending on who you ask, and they must attend some sort of school. And with my lack of such an education came the third rule:

“You must attend and graduate from a pony school.”

A cynical changeling might take offense to this and cite it as bias against our noble and sacred way. After all, we are strong and wily while ponies are but things for our amusement and food. At least, that’s what we are taught.

Yet we’re the ones who starve so much for their love that we resort to charms and trickery.

At first, I thought it couldn’t hurt. If I went to school with ponies my age—such a strange concept, age—I could learn the culture, how to behave, and all of their little subjects to better understand how their minds worked. It was like a scouting mission, just without the end goal of replacing or beguiling a pony to feed upon.

It dawned on me last night that I’d agreed to walk into a classroom of ponies I’d never met in either my natural form or in Crystal Hoof’s guise—they would know what I am the moment I stepped through the door.

Thorax is back again in a flash of green flame. My teal eyes are wide with fear, my tiny white pupils dart about in search of an escape. Escape? But this is home now. I have no hive to go back to, now that I’ve forsaken Queen Crysalis’s wretched rule. I made my cocoon, and now I have to sleep in it.

Still, I can’t help but let my mind wander. How would the colts and fillies my age receive me? Would they be nervous, but kind like Spike when we first met, and like his family and friends now? Or would they have picked up on all those nasty things about my kind from the other crystal ponies and seek to shun me? Would I get the chance to make my own first impression? If I messed that up would I get a second chance again?

Gulp.

“Thorax?”

My heart nearly leaps into my throat as Shining Armor’s voice echoes through the hall. I fall back onto my haunches, blinking a few times as I try to calm my breathing. A glance up at my reflection shows that I am once again Crystal Hoof.

The steady cadence of his hooves clip-clopping against the crystalline floor. In the mirror, I see his reflection poke its head around the door jam, then fix me with a quizzical look. His shoulders slump, he heaves a sigh and begins to approach. A small smile plays upon his lips. “We need to head out soon,” he says. I see his hoof raise in the mirror, then fall upon my shoulder. A gentle touch the likes of which no changeling ever knew. “You okay?”

Without turning, I give a jerky nod. “F-Fine, thanks!” I stammer, cursing my traitorous vocal chords. “I’m just, uh, deciding what to wear!”

His smile falters a bit. “Don’t you think it might be best to go in your natural form?”

I find my gaze drawn to his hoof. His touch is so much gentler than Queen Chrysalis’s. I don’t sense any desire to strike me across the face for daring to go against any implied wishes. “I’m not entirely certain that would be beneficial,” I find myself saying as though giving a scouting report. “On one hoof, it would suit the mandate that I—”

“Thorax,” he cuts me off. His smile is back in place, he chuckles to himself and sits down beside me. “You’re talking to me like we’re in the Throne Room or like you’re one of my recruits. It’s just you and me right now.” Shining nudges my shoulder with his. “So, why are you Crystal Hoof today? I thought you were going to class as yourself to learn with ponies and try to make friends like you did with Spike.”

I cringe. Shifting in place, I busy myself with looking at my reflection. Crystal Hoof is nice. He looks decidedly normal for a pony, the perfect disguise. Nopony would ever shy away from a tiny earth pony with a nervous grin and a stammer in his voice.

Not before, at least.

“I’m having second thoughts about that,” I admit. “G-Given the nature of the assignment and the rules in question, I wonder if it might be more beneficial to appear in—I mean, um, oh crack my eggshell!” With a groan, I bring my chitinous hooves up to cover my face. I’m Thorax once more. “What do I do? I want to make friends, but what if they’re afraid of me? Or hate me like you did at first?”

Shining flinches at my question. I feel his hoof tense on my shoulder. For a moment, there is silence between us save for my fretting and his breathing.

He squeezes my shoulder. “I can’t control how other ponies feel, Thorax,” he says. “They could very well be afraid because of what they’ve heard, and they could hold a grudge on our behalf.” Of course, he meant himself and Princess Cadence. They had sound reason to distrust me, even if it made things difficult. His hoof squeezes harder, I feel my breath hitch in my throat, readying for that back hoofed slap that’s sure to come for bringing it up.

As soon as he feels me do so, he lets go as if I set fire to his hoof. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shining staring at me, his brows furrowed in concern. He knows what I felt coming.

I keep forgetting there is no Queen Chrysalis here.

Shining sets his jaw and says, “I never hated you, Thorax, and neither did Cady.” He takes a deep breath in through his nose, then lets it out through his mouth. I’ve seen him do this a few times when angry or readying to do something important. He doesn’t seem angry, so I assume he feels this talk is important.

“I distrusted you and remembered what the Queen did to us, and I projected that on you. But I never hated Thorax, the lone changeling.” The corners of his mouth twitch. “You did scare the hay out of us when you transformed when you met Flurry though.” I squirm beneath his gaze, he laughs and pats my shoulder. “It’s fine, Thorax. But that kind of nods to my point, don’t you think?”

“How so?”

“Well, think about it: you showed up looking like a pony and didn’t shift back until you sensed all the love around Flurry. Scared the daylights out of all of us because what we thought was a pony turned out to be a changeling.” Shining pauses, then adds with a smile, “It’s worked out, of course, but think of it from our perspective.”

I chew on my lip, mindful of my fangs. Thinking as a pony was hard sometimes. From a changeling point of view, pretending to be a pony was a good thing, and not just because it was how we got food. Pretending to be a pony meant there was a lot less shrieking in fear or having things thrown at us.

Pots and pans still stung a bit, regardless of how strong my carapace is. Something I learned the first time I tried to liberate an extra cookie or two for myself and Flurry. That poor cook was scared out of her coat when I peeked around the corner.

“Ponies are afraid of how I look, even when I’m in natural form,” I mutter. “My fangs and eyes frighten them, and my carapace makes me look so different.”

Shining nods. “True, yes. And I’ll admit, you’ve startled me a few times when you round the corner at night.” I flinch as the memories of a few such incidents leap to the front of my mind, but he continues as if he didn’t notice, “I’m sorry to say it, but you’re not going to see the end of that for a while. Ponies are going to be nervous until the novelty wears off.”

“And going to school like this—” I point at my muzzle, waving at my fangs and angular, predator’s snout for emphasis “—will help?”

“You think it won’t?” he counters.

I look down at the floor and give my wings a buzz. “I … see the benefit of traditional changeling infiltration tactics, with some modification,” I admit. “But I’m conflicted because I want friends who like me for me. Like Spike.”

With a snort, he nudges my shoulder. “And me,” he adds in my stead. “And Cady, Twily, Starlight, Sunburst, and Flurry. So why not try that?”

“I’m afraid they won’t see it like you all do.”

“That’s a possibility, yes.”

“So, wouldn’t it make more sense to go as Crystal Hoof?” I adopt my favored guise before I even finish his name. “It would make them less likely to be afraid.”

“A pony face might do that. However—” he sighs and runs a hoof through his mane “—we had to inform the school that you’d be joining their classes, so they could fit you in. Even if the students didn’t know your Crystal Hoof form before, they’re going to know who you are.”

I feel a cold lump drop into the pit of my stomach. “So … oh, eggshells, why does this have to be so complicated?” Groaning, I sit back on my rear and drag my hooves down my face. Decisions based around all these different possibilities were so tricky! I never had so many options before—Queen Chrysalis simply dictated what we were to do, and we went forth and did it regardless of our own opinion. Rulers dictate, subjects follow.

Shining Armor is a ruler. Through marriage, yes, but a ruler. And I am his subject.

In this, I find a note of security. But pulling an order out of the Royal Family is, as I’ve learned, rather tricky if you’re not a part of their guard or staff. They don’t like dictating to ponies willy nilly. They like us subjects to choose our own way, with respect to general laws.

Wording my question properly, then, is very important. “What do you want me to do?”

His smile turns rather pitying. Shining tilts his head to the side and fixes me with a look I’ve seen him give little Flurry Heart when she tries to fling her rattle across the room or dump a bowl of oatmeal on the floor—a look that holds a mix of familial warmth along with the unspoken “Really?” held behind the wielder’s eyes.

Shining chuckles to himself and shakes his head. “I can’t make your choice for you, Thorax. That’s not how we rule.”

“You made rules for me before,” I protest weakly.

“Cadence and I made rules to protect everypony in the Empire, yourself included.”

“But you decided them. I didn’t have much of a choice then.”

He bobs his head to one side. “Well, yes and no. We did let you choose your alternate form. But, still, that doesn’t take away from my point—you need to learn to make big decisions for yourself.”

I raise a hoof. “But I make decisions all the time! I decide who to ask for love, I decide what faces to make for Flurry—” A sudden twist of my earfin cuts me off, I yelp and clap my hooves over my head.

The pitying look is back on his face. “Those are little decisions, Thorax. I’m talking about things that will have consequences you may or may not like.” He brings a hoof up to his chest. “I had to decide whether or not I wanted to be a guard a few times over—and, believe me, basic training made me seriously wonder if I was better off going into warding research.”

“I see.” I hunch my shoulders. “But it would be easier if you just …” I trail off when I notice the smile fading from his face. His pitying look turns flat and stern. A silent rebuke. With a sigh, I look at the mirror again. “But you say it will be better if I go like this?” I wave my hoof at my reflection.

For a moment, he stays silent. I watch his reflection in the mirror as he seems to mull it over himself. Shining Armor lays his hoof upon my shoulder again and gives it a squeeze. “It might be,” he says softly, “but it might not. I can’t control how you or they feel, Thorax.” Before I can make to protest, he raises his hoof and shakes his head. “No, I’m not going to order you to go in your natural form or in Crystal Hoof’s form. That’s your decision.”

A whine sounds from the back of my throat. “But there’s so many uncertainties! How am I supposed to account for everything?”

“Tell you what, when you figure out the answer to that, let me know. I’d like the answer myself,” he says, chuckling to himself. He offers me a smile. “I can’t tell you how it’s going to play out, but I will promise you that you’ve got a home to come back to regardless of what they say or think. And our support as well. What you do is entirely your decision, and I’ll respect it.”

I can’t help but squirm in place. “Even if I decide to go as Crystal Hoof?”

He nods once. “If you feel that would be best, go for it. I can only tell you what I think.” He steps back and turns to leave, pausing to glance at the clock hanging from the wall, he adds, “You’ve got about five minutes before we need to get going. I’ll meet you out by the door.”

“Okay,” I reply softly. Then, my ear fin twitches. “What about Princess Cadence and Sunburst? And Flurry?”

A familiar glint shines in his eyes. Shining grins back at me and waggles his ears. “My daughter decided that everypony needed a good oatmeal shower this morning, so they’re all getting cleaned up.” Pointing at his horn, he says, “Being quick with a shield spell pays off big when dealing with babies.”

“I see. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good plan. See you in a few.”

He leaves me alone with my thoughts and my mirror. I turn to look at my reflection again, looking over my natural form and thinking hard on his words. In a flash, I dawn my Crystal Hoof mask. In another, I remove it.

I intend to use every second of those five minutes.

I trot through the foyer with a tremble in my hooves and butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My decision was made with time to spare, but there’s a bit of instinct nagging in the back of my mind.

As promised, Shining Armor stands in the open doorway, chatting with a pair of guards while he waits for me. A pair of saddlebags is slung over his back, he pauses in whatever he’s saying long enough to turn and check the hall.

His ears perk up the second he lays eyes on me, a proud smile tugs at his lips. As I draw closer, he nods. “Ready to go?”

I fix a nervous smile upon my face and nod in reply. “As ready as I can be.”

“Good colt.” Without warning, he closes the distance between us and pulls me into a one-legged hug. He leans in close and murmurs, “You’ll be fine, Thorax.”

The tremble spreads up my legs, into my belly. I swallow a lump in my throat. “I certainly hope so.”

His hug tightens. “If it does go south, come home straight away. You understand?”

Warmth floods my chest. Home. The Crystal Palace is my home too. My smile turned into a full, toothy grin that showed a mouth full of sharpened teeth along with the full length of my fangs.

Yet he didn’t flinch or recoil in fear. Shining simply drew back and fixed me with a wry look, then glanced over his shoulder for a split second before looking back at me. “Well, why in Equestria am I carrying these?” A pink glow wreathed his horn. The saddlebags floated off his bag and through the air, giving me a chance to spot my name written in flowing green cursive on the side. He plopped them onto my back. “There’s all your supplies. Keep them in good condition, or Twilight’s liable to come up and lecture you for abusing textbooks.”

I can’t help but snort. “I will. Thank you, Shining.”

“No problem. Let’s get a move on.” He turns, sparing a nod to the guards. “Back in a while, gentlestallions. Don’t let the place burn down ‘till I get back.”

They snap to attention and salute with their spears, replying in one voice, “Yes, sir!”

We begin our trek down the path leading out to the main road. I let my mind wander a bit as Shining tells me that the school isn’t too far from the palace, that he’s spoken with several teachers and administrators (whatever those are) who have expressed eagerness and interest in helping me acclimate myself, and that the students all seemed rather nice.

My mind, though, is elsewhere. My hooves still tremble, both in anticipation and nervousness.

Nervous? By my mother’s eggshell, I think I may need a stronger word. I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life. But I’m not afraid. Not anymore.

I have a home and ponies who support me. Why should I be afraid?