It was hard. Moonbeam didn't want to admit just how hard, but it was all very hard, and she hated it and hated herself a little, because she knew she was making it harder than it had to be, but at the same time...
Marina had been a unicorn. And she had been fine with that: it was strange to know what she really was, but the illusion of Marina had hidden that all nicely. And now, instead, Marina was Ankaru, and Ankaru wasn't hiding who he really was.
On the one hoof, she was glad for him. On the other... it was difficult. She stumbled over her words a lot. She didn't know what the right thing to say was. She got mad and frustrated. And yet Ankaru was the same as he'd been as Marina. He was just a he, but he had the same smile, the same smell, the same way of talking to her, making her feel good...
But it wasn't the same at all.
She sighed a bit, looking over her shoulder: she could see his shadow dancing on the wall of the hallway as he worked in the kitchen, humming away as he happily put together a little meal for them. He was so nice. He did so many little things that mattered more to her than she wanted to admit.
And he was also a Changeling, with a hard shell and those creepy bug-eyes and that jagged horn and he looked exactly like all the other Changelings did. The ones that had attacked her, captured her, and fed on her for so long, and who had been more than willing to put her back through that hell again no matter how she had screamed and kicked and struggled...
She was trying to put that behind her. And it was ridiculous, because Ankaru had been the one to save her from all that.
But she still couldn't help but hold the way he looked against him. The fact that even though he'd saved them all, he was also responsible for bringing Changelings into Equestria, and she... she knew she should be proud of him for that, but it was so hard to be. It was so hard not to be bitter, to think this was all going to go fantastically wrong, that once the Changelings grew strong again they weren't going to turn on the hoof trying to feed them and rip it off...
No, no, no. That wasn't helpful to think. And it wasn't fair, either. But that didn't stop her from thinking those things or feeling those things and it was so difficult and frustrating to know that even if they both tried to hide it from each other, her emotions still bit at Ankaru like living things due to his natural sensitivity as a Changeling, and...
She quashed those thoughts as she hammered her forehooves against her head, grumbling, before wincing when Ankaru said hesitantly from the doorway: “It's okay, you know.”
She looked back at him, and there he was, standing there, shifting a bit on his mechanical limbs, his eyes studying her almost worriedly even as a smiled lingered on his lips. A tray floated beside him with some of the food he'd prepared and two cups: he'd probably gone through the trouble of making her coffee, just the way she liked it, even knowing that she would likely only take one or two sips and then forget about it.
They looked at each other, and Moonbeam sighed and lowered her head before she shrugged grumpily, and Ankaru smiled awkwardly again before he came quickly over, to join her on the couch. He set the tray down on the table, and she wiggled a little bit away from him when he sat down, fidgeted, then grouchily shifted her weight back towards him, looking over at him and, as always, finding herself unable to find the words she wanted to say, to do the things she wanted to do.
So they sat in awkward quiet for a few moments, until Moonbeam finally swept up the mug Ankaru had put aside for her and sniffed it almost warily. She looked at him across it as she sipped at its contents: hot chocolate. A little bitter, just the way she liked it.
She swirled it in the mug, then sighed a little as she set it gently down on the table, her eyes flicking up to Ankaru as she asked: “What are your plans for today? Are you... going out?”
She knew there was a sort of quiet insistence in that question, that she was nudging him towards leaving, so she could have this space to herself, so she could... sulk and grumble and work on things she didn't have the heart for.
It was the Changeling's turn to fidget before he awkwardly looked over at her, then lowered his head a bit and mumbled: “I think I'll... stay in today. If that's okay.”
The mare didn't respond, looking away, and she didn't really know what to say. She wanted to be unfair: to be angry and frustrated and annoyed even if part of her was a little glad that he was staying home, even if part of her wanted to spend time with him, wanted to find a good place with him, so she could feel comfortable with him again. So she could...
She looked over at him, and he looked back at her, and then he smiled a little as he suggested hesitantly: “Maybe we could just spend some time today... getting to know each other again. It's been a while since we've really tried to do that.”
Moonbeam grunted noncommittally, but her eyes flicked to Ankaru, studying him for a moment before she shrugged briefly. She didn't really smile at him, but she didn't deny him, either, and she liked the way he puffed up a little, the way he brightened and shifted a little closer to her, even if her first nervous response was to lean away a bit.
He began to lean back, but Moonbeam caught herself and instead put down her hot chocolate before she straightened: she didn't invite him closer, but she didn't tell him to move away, either.
Ankaru visibly appreciated that. He smiled at her, bowing his head towards her a little, and he let a hoof creep towards her over the couch. Moonbeam looked away, but then sighed and shifted a bit closer, turning her back towards him and scooting a little closer.
The Changeling's forehooves gently stroked across her back: she fidgeted slightly, then sighed, tilting her head back and just trying to hold still, to calm down, to enjoy the feeling of him touching her. Of his hooves exploring along her back, finding all those nooks and crevices, those tidges and knots, gently massaging out all the kinks and cranks he found.
He knew where to touch her: that was the same as it had ever been. He knew how much pressure to use, where his hooves should go. And, turned away, with her eyes closed, it was easier to bear: it was the same as it had been before, when Marina had so gently rubbed her back...
Marina was Ankaru, though. And Ankaru was Marina; it was just every time she looked at him, now that he wasn't hiding who he really was...
Moonbeam shifted a little, then she sighed before hesitantly peeking back over her shoulder. She saw him, and he smiled at her, but she felt herself shiver a bit, flexing against his hooves as they paused in their ministrations, because what she saw wasn't a chocolate-colored unicorn, but a Changeling. A chitinous Changeling drone.
She grimaced briefly, then looked ahead and muttered: “Sorry. It still... it's taking a lot of getting used to.”
“Yeah.” was all he said. His hooves remained against her back: familiar, rubberized metal. He didn't seem sure whether to start again or to pause, and, to be honest, Moonbeam didn't know what she wanted, either.
It was hard.
God, why was this all so stupid?
She looked up at the ceiling, and thought about what she wanted: control, and to love him again, and to feel comfortable. Selfish things, really: how hard was he working? How comfortable was he? It wasn't like she missed the flinches, the shifting away, the hiding...
But at the same time, she was bitter and frustrated because this was still what he wanted and not what she wanted. She wanted...
She did want him to be happy. But she wanted to be happy, too, and she just wasn't sure what that meant for her right now.
She shifted a little, then sighed and lowered her head a bit, biting her lip as her eyes wandered quietly across the roof before she finally looked over her shoulder at him.
He smiled at her uncertainly, meek, the same as ever... it was just what she was looking at was different than she was used to, she reminded herself.
She bit her lip, then said suddenly: “Lie down.”
Ankaru stared at her blankly for a moment, and Moonbeam huffed before she turned around, grasped by him the forelegs, and shoved him back a little forcefully. He winced as he was pushed down onto his back on the couch, staring at her as she pinned him for a moment against the furnishing before she repeated: “Lie down.”
“I am?” Ankaru said lamely, looking confused and a little anxious. When Moonbeam shifted off him, he began to get up, but she immediately pushed him back down with a huff, and this time he stayed, repeating with a bit more confidence: “I am.”
“Good. Stay that way.” Moonbeam said as she looked over his body, then she bit her lip before she leaned over him again. She stroked a hoof up one of his metal forelegs, but he kept it still, kept his limbs down, stayed submissive on his back: that was a good start, at least.
She reached out again as she leaned over him, and her hoof hesitantly stroked inward, touching his shoulder, then his chest. She felt the chitin that layered his body: there was a faint familiarity to it, because as well as Ankaru had always hidden that texture as Marina, there had always been a... a hardness under her skin.
His skin. Or was her right because he had been a she then? Who knew?
It didn't matter. That was the past and this was the present, the here and now.
She had to stop thinking like this was a temporary thing and there was a going back and it was all about 'her way' and what made her comfortable. She had to either be able to accept the truth of who Ankaru was, or... let go.
She silently slid a hoof along his chitin as he looked up at her. Everything was different about him, but at the same time, everything was the same as it had always been with Marina. His body felt different, but it shifted in all the same subtle ways beneath her touch as it always had.
She pressed down on his chest: he grunted a bit and fidgeted under her, but did his best not to raise his mechanical limbs. She appreciated that, as she shifted herself a bit more overtop him, put a little bit more pressure down on his body, and watched the way he shifted and squirmed beneath her as her hooves explored his form.
So much was different, yet everything had stayed the same: the chitin of his body meant there were more defined ridges, more of a stiffness here and there, but he still reacted the same way to being touched in all those different secret places she remembered. Her hooves stroked along his sides, and he closed his eyes and breathed out: she rubbed up along his belly, and she felt the flex, he wiggled his hips slightly, his mechanical hooves curled.
She smiled a little despite herself at this as her hooves traveled lower, and ah, here she found difference: he was a little thicker than Marina, and of course there was a difference in his... equipment. She silently stroked her hands along his waist, biting her lip a little as she let her eyes explore downwards, draw over his groin, studying not smoothness, but the visible rise of his sheath, the way it bulged from his body, and the testicles that hung freely below.
He shifted as if he felt her gaze: he probably did. Her hoof trailed down, but it didn't quite touch him there, yet: no, her eyes lingered, studied that different part of him, as her hoof stroked gently along his waist, played over the not-unfamiliarity of what was above. He fidgeted and she felt it was more from her gaze than the actual contact: she smiled briefly at this, murmuring: “Sensitive as ever.”
“It's strange.” Ankaru confessed, before he blushed a little as her hoof trailed lower, touching just above the Changeling's maleness. “You don't need-”
“Don't tell me what I do or don't need to do.” Moonbeam retorted, sliding both hooves to the stallion's waist and pushing lightly on him, and she leaned over him, looking down into his eyes with that dominance that Marina had always loved... that Ankaru clearly still enjoyed as he bowed his head towards her with a blush and his hooves curled and grasped against the couch.
Moonbeam smiled slightly after a moment, and then she slid her hooves slowly back up. Her hooves trailed over his form, feeling out those half-familiar shapes, reminding herself of all the hidden secrets of his body; secrets she had learned when he had been Marina, that were so very much the same even now that his Changeling self was revealed. And that helped her remember and realize that even if it felt like everything had changed, this was the same person she had always known, the same person she had come to love and care for; Ankaru was the same Marina as he had always been. He just wasn't hiding it anymore.
“Stupid.” Moonbeam said, about nothing and no one in particular, and Ankaru blushed a bit as her hooves roved down across his chest, sliding back towards his waist. He squirmed a little, but she didn't stop, didn't hesitate, as her hooves trailed along his waistline, then gripped into his hips as she slid herself a little more towards him, his mechanical legs spreading a little on either side of her, as if to welcome her.
The Changeling bit his lip as the unicorn's hoof roved down again, and he closed his eyes and gave a soft gasp when she brushed ever-so-gently against his sheath. He squirmed a bit, but Moonbeam placed a hoof against his stomach, and he went still, lowering his head towards her, blushing deeply and looking up at her with a mix of longing and adoration as she smiled back down at him in that way he loved, that way he had missed: that confident, fearless smile that wasn't tainted by anger or frustration or exasperation, that look of... of pride, he thought, and self-assurance, as she teased: “Are you really that sensitive?”
“It's strange.” Ankaru answered, blushing a little, his eyes trying to wander, but unable to escape from Moonbeam's gaze. “I never... it's not like I really... I mean...”
“Used it much?” Moonbeam asked wryly, as her hoof pressed down against his sheath, and she was rewarded with a feeling of a flex, as his member began to poke free from that pouch, stiffening gradually beneath her teasing touch.
Ankaru didn't really respond, only smiling awkwardly up at her, and then he rolled his head back with a soft breath as her hoof traveled down his shaft, feeling its shape: it throbbed with the beat of his heart, cylindrical, thick, equine and yet not. There was something different about it: was it harder, or perhaps springier?
She stroked a hoof along that length, letting herself explore it: she wasn't really an expert on stallion parts. Maybe that was part of the problem she had with Ankaru: it was strange to adjust. It wasn't that she didn't like stallions, of course, she just... she wasn't as comfortable with them as she was with mares.
But she liked Ankaru and maybe that helped override some of her anxiety. She could trust him. And just because he was being a him now, he wasn't really any different. Their relationship didn't have to be different. She didn't have to give up the things she liked, and they didn't have to be anyone but the people they had always been.
She slid her hoof along his length, and he squirmed and swallowed, looking up at her with a faint blush. Moonbeam drew her eyes over him, seeing all those things she loved about Marina in the way he moved, the way he shifted, the way he was all hers, just as he had been when he had been Marina.
It helped.
Moonbeam slid her hoof down his length again, then she silently stroked it over what was below; first, that sheath, and then the testicles beneath that. Her hoof rolled across one, then gently stroked over the other, sliding around it, feeling out its shape as he breathed a little harder.
She watched as he squirmed, as his erect shaft flexed, rising, then falling and gently slapping against his belly. The unicorn chuckled softly at this, then murmured: “Cute. All these little and not-so-little differences... but you're still you, aren't you?”
“More me than I knew.” Ankaru admitted, before he blushed when the mare gently pressed a hoof down against the head of his shaft, arching his back as he rasped in breath through grit teeth, his hind legs kicking a bit as his forehooves gripped uselessly at the couch.
“I guess I understand. It's hard.” Moonbeam admitted, chewing at her lip as she glanced away before she gripped into him, and he squirmed, but looked up at her: with love, with understanding, with sympathy and longing, as she continued softly: “But I guess even though you're a Changeling... things don't have to change between us. You haven't really changed.”
“I want to be me. I don't entirely know what that means yet. I think this is a good start.” Ankaru said, blushing a bit as he squirmed under her gentle ministrations, but letting her explore, touch, feel and experience every part of him. “I want to be... the best me I can be. I think that means I can be better for you, too, if I am. I... I don't want to keep any secrets from you.”
“This was never a secret.” Moonbeam murmured, and then she hesitated before she reached her hooves up to gently place them on his chest, pinning him down under her and looking down into his eyes. Those eyes, blue and insectile, and yet expressionate and worried and warm.
They looked at one-another, and Moonbeam smiled a bit before she said softly: “If it was a secret, it was... our secret. It was one I pushed you to keep, because...” She silently drew a hoof down his chest, and she knew he knew all the things she was trying to say, but it was important for her to say it, to make it real and acknowledge it, so that they could hopefully move forward from it.
“It was easier. For a lot of reasons. But... I care about you and I don't believe you're using me. I don't.” Moonbeam let her eyes draw across Ankaru's form, taking in his Changeling body again, and then she shook her head and murmured: “It's hard. But that's no excuse.”
“It's kind of an excuse.” Ankaru said, and then he squirmed and blushed when Moonbeam reached down and pressed a hoof just above his groin, swallowing a bit.
“It's not.” Moonbeam repeated, and then she shook her head before murmuring: “It really isn't. I wish that it was, but we're grown ponies. And I know better. I know that just because you're a... a Changeling, it doesn't mean you're not Marina. Or Ankaru. Whatever.”
“Whatever.” Ankaru smiled a bit, bowing his head bashfully towards her. “I just...always want to be yours.”
Moonbeam couldn't help but smile a bit at this, looking down before she slid her hoof down, stroking gently along the side of his shaft. It flexed against her grip as he let out a soft breath, before he closed his eyes and let his head roll back when she stroked it slowly, murmuring: “You're still mine. You'll always be mine.”
The Changeling smiled wider at her, then he shifted and fidgeted a bit as her hoof stroked idly along his shaft. He blushed as the mare leaned over him, gazing down into his eyes as her own half-lidded and she teased gently: “As long as you can handle that, that is.”
“Always.” Ankaru answered, blushing a bit as he shifted a little, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the mare teased his shaft, stroking it, feeling out its shape, its thickness, its weight. “Shouldn't I be...”
“Shh.” Moonbeam murmured. This was better: she was... aroused, but not excited, if that made any sense. And she enjoyed this. She enjoyed being in charge, being in control, and the way he fidgeted, how he had learned to be helpless under her.
He wheezed softly, and she studied him, half-lidding her eyes as her hoof continued to move over that hard, excited flesh. A thick bead formed from the tip of that equine-like member, a pulse of hot liquid dripping slowly free to splatter over the Changeling's stomach. He squirmed and shifted, and she could feel not just the heat in his shaft, but the sense of love, of need, of desire to please her that emanated from every fiber of his being.
She stroked; her hoof moved along that flesh, her back arched slightly as she looked down at him, watching him. Feeling him, feeling his need, and enjoying the way he squirmed and shifted under her, the way he fought so hard to control himself; the power she had over him, and the knowledge that her love was what made him strong, her love was what kept him hers.
Moonbeam leaned forwards a bit, stroking a little harder, a little faster: the Changeling fidgeted beneath her, gasping a little, blushing deeper as his head rolled back and forth on his shoulders. But Moonbeam kept her movements teasing, steady, staying in control, making him move at her pace, making him listen and obey her silent commands.
He gave a soft groan: Moonbeam rewarded him, by going a little faster, by leaning over him a little more. The Changeling's eyes fluttered, then looked up at her, needfully, wantingly, another moan escaping his lips.
His hips rocked, and Moonbeam slowed in response: he almost whimpered, fidgeting, half-reaching his hooves up, and the unicorn used her magic to gently apply pressure against his body: she was no powerful mage, but that cue did its work, and he settled and looked up at her almost helplessly, wantingly, nodding and flushing in need as he gripped back into the couch again, hooves curling, body shivering in pleasure.
She stroked him: when he stayed still, she stroked faster, teased him more. He shivered, hips rolling, but not bucking, his testicles almost visibly throbbing, his shaft pulsating in her grip, hot against her electric touch.
Her hoof thrummed: it moved up and down, up and down, with a bit of natural magic giving her extra grip, letting her exert a bit more control and pressure over that throbbing malehood. He whimpered low in his throat, but he looked at her, waited for her: he panted, wanting more, but he listened to her, obeyed the commands of her body and her eyes as she leaned over him, let their bodies close together, felt his heat against her belly.
She stroked him: she felt close to him, knew him again: he looked up at her, all hers, not a threat or a Changeling or different, but hers.
She gave him permission, asked to see, and he flushed as his hips rocked helplessly, as his head tilted back, as he gave a few soft, short moans before he gasped a little as his shaft flexed in her grip, unable to stop himself from thrusting a little into her grip as his cock hardened, then released.
Thick spurts of his seed burst from his shaft, covering her hoof, splattering across his chest and body. His head fell back, his mouth working as he moaned loudly in pleasure, his eyes fluttering. He breathed hard, shuddering in pleasure, arching his back as his whole body went taut for a moment before he slowly settled into the cushions of the couch, looking up at her with a blush as his breath whispered softly in and out.
Moonbeam looked down at him for a few moments, then she gently stroked his shaft: it throbbed and flexed, and he grunted and shivered, closing his eyes for a moment, rocking his hips before he let out a soft sound of pleasure and relief, body relaxing as her hoof slid away.
She rose it to her lips, then licked it, tasting his essence, tasting him: for a moment, she paused, then she smiled briefly as she reached her hoof down, silently pressing it against his chest.
He reached up, grasping her foreleg with both of his, looking up at her quietly, lovingly. And for a few moments, they rested like that, together, and everything was okay. Everything was how it had always been meant to be between them: her and him, together.
They looked at each other for the longest time, until Moonbeam smiled briefly as she said finally: “We should get you cleaned up.”
“Yeah.” Ankaru said.
Moonbeam slid off him, and as she began to turn away, he blushed and stammered out: “Thank you.”
She looked back over her shoulder at him, then she shrugged and smiled again, saying softly: “I didn't do it for you. I did it for me.”
Ankaru blushed at her, but smiled and nodded lamely. There was silence for a few moments, and then Moonbeam turned and headed away. Ankaru followed her only a moment later, glad that he was hers, glad that they were together... and most of all, that they were finally on the road to being themselves.