A Pierced Heart

Chapter 4: Mother Disapproves

Pokey was standing in a dark antechamber. Though he knew perfectly well after years of the same experience that he was in fact asleep. A changeling, when asleep, could be contacted by their queen, and the blue stallion had long grown tired of the subconscious confrontations that would occur whenever he found himself in this 'room'.

"My, my, my, its true what they say about a stallion," sounded a voice from the depths, guttural and quivering. Pokey did not even press for what she meant, in time she would give sound to her thoughts. "Grubs are always in pursuit of two things, danger and play." Inevitably, she had said it. It raked against the unicorns ears to be referred to as a grub, it was not the age implication that bothered him, but the identity. "And you certainly have chosen a dangerous mark, Element of Generosity? I dare say I was wrong when I called you a coward all those years ago." Pokey recalled the events, wincing. In the aftermath of the failed Canterlot invasion the queen had lashed against his mind in every sleeping hour, trying to elicit feelings of guilt for his non-committal to the attack. "I mean, you heard about the things those six could do, if they ever found out about you, they'd tear you apart and slather your innards across the town hall!" The voice emanated with barely contained glee.

"Rarity wouldn't do that, and even if they did, I could die peacefully knowing that I hadn't harmed those I cared for," Pokey answered, his voice flat. If he let his voice inflect in any way the queen would pick up on it, and try to pry at it to try and convince him he was in the wrong.

"My little grub..." the voice pouted. "But you have been harming them, every time you show that despicable mug you insist on wearing you’re deceiving them. But lying to them is okay, it’s what you are. Go on, take it off, blue never really was your colour."

Pokey lowered his head and obliged, the queen had often used his faux nature as an entry point to try and get at him. By facing her in his actual form, he was denying her that hold. Green flames enveloped him, azure fur and soft flesh peeled off like aged paint cracking off an abandoned farmstead. Underneath was his obsidian black shell. His mane, even though in disguise was a silver grey, took on an even more sickly pallor as it became toneless and transparent. Large chunks of meat attached at the ends of the fur fell off before being consumed by the effervescent green blaze.

Pokey gazed up at the encroaching blackness, his armour melding with the dark surroundings. "This isn't who I am," he called out. "Physically yes, but I'm no more like you than you are my master... not at all."
"Oh, honey, don't speak like that, I'm your mother, you don't need to consider me master!" the voice insisted with a hurt expression.

"As I said before, you're not, I would never let you lead me down your path. I've seen mothers, and they're nothing like you," Pokey said.

"Wind and words, that's all those ponies' sentiments are, and as for your accusation, have I not always tried to do what was best for you?” called out the voice.

"By making me look into the minds and lives of others? To see their hopes, dreams, volitions, their shame and anger, joy and fear? To learn from them the sum total of their being..." Pokey Pierce gasped inward at this, he had done this action every time with his forced feeding. "And then use it to harm them? I don't know what Rarity and I share, but for the first time, I feel whole, and the greatest thing of all, its not causing her harm, in fact, she seems... the better for it."

"Pierce, you know it won't last, soon she'll start to weaken, the bleeding, the nightmares, she'll start to hollow out into an empty husk and when you take the last of her she'll shatter under your touch and you'll see you never should have fought your nature." The voice was growing fainter at this point, and Pokey smiled, he'd get the last word on this occasion.

"If I fight my nature, that makes me all the greater than you."

*****

Pokey's eyes opened to his bedroom, still dark as the sun had yet to rise and the overcast skies blocked the moon. The changeling sat in his bed for a moment, examining his holed hooves, the openings were lined with a smooth chitinous layer that acted to bare a changeling's weight. The arthropodic pony stepped into his bathroom and examined himself. His compound eyes were a solid, lupine yellow, above all other parts of his form, it was the eyes that he despised. No whites or distinctive black pupil, absolutely no features with which to convey emotion. He envied ponies their eyes, for they truly were portals to the soul. A twitch to show focus, a widening of the iris to show fear, joy, so many emotions that could be conveyed.

The changeling closed his eyes as a green blaze pulsed outwards. When his eyes opened he saw himself, as he truly wished to be, soft blue fur covering his body, a smooth horn leading to a sharp point. Hooves unfettered by unseemly holes. It was an appearance that was preoccupying two ponies that day, one was Pokey, and the other was in Carousel Boutique.

*****

Rarity's deep blue eyes fluttered open as a beam of sunlight struck her cheek. Staring up at the ceiling, she began to raise herself, taking time to stretch her back and work out any kinks that had settled out in her sleep.

"Aaaahhhhh... that was such a pleasant dream, but I..." With that Rarity's mind registered a blank, all she knew now was that the dream had been immensely pleasurable. "I can't wait to see Pokey again, such a gentlecolt, and so attentive and caring, tending to me even when he was in shock from my nose bleed." Rarity shifted and her fur felt much too cold, she looked downwards. "Oh dear, it’s a little early to be having those kinds of thoughts about him." That morning Rarity opted for a cold shower and a prompt washing of her sheets.

Rarity was busy preparing toast for herself and Sweetie Belle when aforementioned younger sibling stepped down the stairs, mane done up in a bun. The young, musical filly smiled at Rarity and sat at the table as the fashionista finished their breakfast, setting it on the table.

"How did it go Rarity?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Oh it was wonderful, he took me to my favourite restaurant and then we walked and talked in the park," the purple maned mare replied. "It was a wonderful night, but I feel sorry for the poor dear, some young ruffian was playing ball and it hit me in the nose. Pokey was so quick to demand that the colt apologize to me, and then. Well, he told me he was afraid of blood, yet he still mustered himself to help me clean up my nosebleed."

"Sounds like you found a keeper Rarity," Sweetie Belle chuckled.

"Oh, but here I am fawning over my own prospects and leaving you out in the cold. Don't worry Sweetie Belle, if you ever need your sister to ward off unwelcome advances, you only need to ask."

"Rarity, gross! I'm not ready for that, not yet anyway," Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

"You may not be, but you are turning into a beautiful young mare, and soon, all the colts in your class are going to start taking notice, if none have already." The purple maned pony leaned in to nuzzle her sister as both gave a satisfied sigh.