Three of A Kind

by willow_whistle

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Pinkie Pie, Zecora, Twilight Sparkle, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery
Length: 4319

A newcomer to Ponyville causes some confusion after it turns out she's actually three ponies.

Willow Whistle, Willow Twigs, Willow Wisp, which is it? A few new faces in Ponyville seem all to be the same face. Zecora assures Twilight Sparkle that it's nothing to worry about, but Twilight has a hard time leaving questions unanswered...

Takes place at some unspecified time during season seven

CW for TRANSGENDER TEXT AND SUBTEXT and otherkin/plural-coded stuff, if you're a weenie and people being weird makes your head explode.

Published 2024-06-02 18:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-06-02 18:30:00 UTC

Okay but who is she thoe

Author's Note

Heya! Fair warning, this is my very self-indulgent ponysona origin story fic. Everyone needs to write one of these at some point, right? If not, then they should, because this was SO MUCH FUN!!!

The only way this could've been more self-indulgent is if i made the story m-rated and it was just me making out with fluttershy for like five thousand words but uhhhh i dont really think that'd be as fun to read as it would be to write

Anyways, lemme know what you think, and dont bother reading if you're easily offended by things like trans people existing

Okay but who is she thoe

It was late at night in the Everfree Forest. Luna’s moon cast its gentle light down, illuminating very little with its silver glow, but enough for a figure to be seen amongst the trees. A lone pony, snooping around, just out of range of the orange light of Zecora’s woodland home. This pony had heard of a Zebra living outside of Ponyville, and that she might very well be her best bet to fix her particular problem. The figure seemed to disappear from the brush, and reappear before the door of Zecora’s hut.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Who could that be at this hour? And while the moon is at full-power.” She groaned to herself, rising from the bubbling cauldron she had been stirring. She put on a smile, reminding herself that this was probably just Apple Bloom coming with more questions about alchemy. She loved to see the youth take an interest in other cultures and their practices, and wanted to nurture that rather than discourage it by being sour… even if it wasn’t a very good time.

She opened the door to greet her student, but was surprised to be met with a full-grown mare, and one she hadn’t seen before, at that.

“Hi!” Said the mare, in a too-cheerful voice that was clearly a farce to cover up her nerves. “I hear you’re an alchemist. I was hoping I could ask you some questions?”

It was a late morning in Ponyville. Just as the sun was losing its yellow glow in favor of the burning white it donned while climbing to its zenith, Spike was balanced precariously atop a ladder in the library of Name-Pending Castle. A copy of Of Mice and Mares-- Draft Decimal System number 0813.52-- in one claw, as he balanced a stack of other historical fiction titles in the other. The place it belonged on the shelf, between Ferrier Row and Chestnuts of Wrath, was just out of reach.

“Just my luck!” He spat out-loud, to nobody but himself.

The little dragon stretched onto the tips of his toes on one foot, and shifted his thick tail around to balance him as he extended his little arm as far is it could go, only to slip off the ladder with a shrill squawk, and allow the books in the stack to fly out of his--admittedly weak-- grip. He thought about a particular incident involving a bouncy castle and a waffle iron as he closed his eyes and braced for impact with the hard, crystal floor… only to be caught in a magical aura. A magical aura that seemed ill-practiced, and thus could not have been Twilight’s. He opened his eyes to see who it was, and noticed the mist and sparkles around him were… orange? Almost red? Persimmon. He didn’t know any unicorns with persimmon-colored magic.

“Gotcha!” Said an unfamiliar, somewhat androgynous voice. “One sec!”

Spike whipped his head around to look for the source of the voice, and landed on a somewhat awkward-looking unicorn with an orange and pink mane, and a light, muted green coat. She was clearly struggling to maintain her telekineses.

“Thanks! But, uh I can climb back--” Spike was cut off by being flung abruptly, but precisely, into the position he had been moments before his fall, books in-order, in his hands again. He steadied himself as the aura and its twinkling hum dissipated.

“Gosh, thanks again!” He said, genuinely, but with a little trepidation. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, th-that’s no problem!” The new pony said between gasping for breath. “I think I-I’ll just go lay down for about…” She slumped onto the ground, all four legs splayed out like she had slipped on an icy road. “A few weeks? Give or take.”

“Spiiiike!” Twilight called down the hall, from her throne room. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! Just tripped!” He lied. “You have a visitor!”

This garnered no vocal response, but there were quick hoofsteps down the corridor.

“Alright, who is it? What do they need?” Twilight said, frantic, looking back and forth until she saw the stranger, now passed out of the floor. There was nothing particularly remarkable about this pony’s appearance, perhaps other than them being a new face in Ponyville, and perhaps a little taller and stockier than was average-- though neither of these things were especially odd, this place being home to the tall and gangly Fluttershy, and the sturdily-built entirety of the Apple-family. Twilight would swear, if asked, that Granny Smith could easily beat her in a contest of physical strength. Twilight shook her head and refocused. There was a newcomer unconscious on her floor, that required her immediate attention much more than intrusive-- though highly-amusing-- thoughts of buff grandmas.

“Dunno. She-- at least I think she’s a mare-- just walked in and caught me while I totally wasn’t falling off the ladder.” He lied again, this time more poorly.

“Uh huh.” Twilight said with a knowing smirk. “Did they give you their name?”

“Nope. Just struggled to do telekinesis and then fell asleep.” He stated plainly, truthfully this time, as he slid the novel in his hand into its proper place.

“Well, we can’t let them sleep on the floor. We’d be terrible hosts!” Twilight chirped, and lifted the pony into the air in her telekinesis with no visible effort. “Can you finish up here while I move them into the guest bedroom?”

“What, exactly, do you mean by we?” Spike sneered down at the alicorn.

“We are not having this argument again right now.” Twilight groaned, and Spike smirked as she started out of the room with their uninvited guest.

“Sorting out the new donations isn’t half as hard as shelving them!” He called out.

“Can’t hear you!” Twilight lied, from halfway up the stairs.

The mystery pony rose from her unintended sleep groggily, and yawned with their mouth opened wider than a pony’s should. They stretched like a dog, and popped their back, before their eyes widened and they realized they were in Twilight Sparkle’s castle, and had been asleep for Chrysalis only knows how long. They made the bed as best they could, to be polite, and snuck around, with impossible quietness, to avoid notice of the castle’s residents. They had nearly made it to the door when they overheard a conversation between some ponies in what must have been the throne room. The pony put their ear to the door, and began to listen.

“-- an’ I coulda swore I saw a pegasus that looked jus’ like ‘er this mornin’.” Said a matronly voice, skeptically.

They’re talking about me? Why are they talking about me? Oh, I knew they’d be mad… The eavesdropping pony thought to themselves, fearfully.

“Darling, don’t be ridiculous!” Another voice, like somepony from Canterlot, chided. “There’s surely some kind of logical explanation for this that isn’t as sinister as you think.”

“Yeah, AJ.” Said a husky voice with an air of self-importance about it. “Twi sealed off the mirror pool like… four years ago, or something like that. Chill out!”

At least somepony is on my side.

“I’m quite chill enough, thank ya very much!” Said the skeptical voice again, this time louder, and very evidently not chill.

“U-um, Applejack, if I could suggest…” Prodded a hesitant voice that the pony had to strain to hear very well.

“Go ahead, Fluttershy.” Permitted the first voice.

“Um, m-maybe none of us got a very good look at her…?” Asked the very soft voice.

The room then erupted into arguing tones that all blended together, and the eavesdropping pony couldn’t decipher anything but single words, specifically from the angry mom voice and the Canterlot-ish one, but not anything useful in piecing together the conversation. They turned around to slink out the door, still unnoticed, before being suddenly disabused of that notion by bumping snouts with a very round, bouncy, overwhelmingly, astoundingly, capital-P Pink mare.

“Hiiiiiii!~” Said Pinkie Pie with enthusiasm the stranger knew to be characteristic of the Element of Laughter. “I could’ve sworn I saw you already this morning but I know you were an Earth Pony named Willow Twigs then and but now you’re a Unicorn so I think you’re different HI MY NAME IS PINKIE PIE WHAT’S YOURS?”

The pony gaped at the lack of either punctuation or breathing. It would seem Pinkie’s lungs had either been trained to withstand this, or her anatomy simply didn’t play by traditional equine rules. That was something the two had in common, at least.

“U-um,” the possibly-not-a-unicorn managed, weakly, stalling to find a way to escape, before remembering that unicorns could teleport, and transposing herself out-of-sight in a flash of persimmon sparks.

The pony(?) had only been capable of teleporting so far. Having had to run all the way back to the Everfree from the outside of the castle was no easy task, but at least it knew it was after 5 pm, after having asked the wall-eyed (but very pretty not in spite of, but to the inclusion of this) mailmare the she had met earlier in the day, who seemed unperturbed by its frantic galloping towards a famously dangerous wilderness area. That’s one it could mark as not suspicious, at least?

Who am I kidding? It thought to itself, resigned in its failure as it layed its barrel against a tree, taking heaving breaths and resting its sore legs. Why did I ever think this would work? Why couldn’t Zecora just give me a potion to change or something? I’m disgusting, I’ll never be a real pony… It began to cry, and bordered on wailing, but kept itself quiet so as not to attract attention either from ponies nearby or from the monsters of the Everfree. It stroked one of its front hooves across its foreleg, and felt soothed by this. At least I can still pretend I have fur, like a real pony. It poked its belly, and smiled a little at the way it smushed and sprung back. Or that I’m soft, like a real pony. It sighed, and stood up, sobs reduced to a sniffle. Burnt-orange flames consumed it for a moment before being replaced by a nearly identical earth pony, different only in its cutie mark being somewhat altered (a purple heart crossed with an orange stick, as opposed to the purple heart with an orange star in the middle it had as a unicorn) and being somewhat taller and thicker-limbed. It started off back towards where it had entered the town from the evening before. I need to talk to Zecora again.

Zecora was about to sit down for her supper of red beans and rice with fresh daisies on the side, her favorite meal that she only let herself have on Sunday evenings, when she heard a knock at the door. She covered her plate with a cloche (an Equestrian invention she’d become rather fond of), and tried not to seem irritated as she answered the door. It was either Apple Bloom or that terribly nervous girl with the identity crisis from the night before, and either way she didn’t want to make them feel unwelcome, no matter how frustrating it was that everyone who needed her seemed to pick the very least convenient time they could to visit. She opened the door to find a distracted Twilight Sparkle, with her eyes transfixed on what was, admittedly, a very pretty luna moth fluttering around one of the porch lights. She let the purple-pony-princess stand there in silence for a few more seconds before giving a very soft ahem.

“Oh, Zecora!” Twilight squeaked, embarrassed, and bowed for some reason. Zecora resisted rolling her eyes; as much as she liked Twilight Sparkle and thought her to be a very intelligent and capable pony, she was also often so ditzy it was a wonder she wasn’t working for the postal service. “H-hi! Sorry, I was-- er-- yeah.” Twilight stammered, seeming to be fervently dedicated to put all four hooves in her mouth (metaphorically speaking, although Zecora was certain she’d seen Pinkie Pie do that at least once). Can I talk to you?”

“Twilight Sparkle, my dear friend,” the witch-doctor began in her typical sing-songy voice, “come inside, your hike now ends.”

“Thank you for having me on such short notice.” Twilight said, cordially, and gave her friend a brief but tight hug. “A new mare showed up in Ponyville this morning, and everypony seems to have met her, but none of us can agree on her name or even what breed she was. I was wondering if this was any sort of cantrip or glamour you might be familiar with.”

Zecora nodded, and replied patiently, hoofing a cup of peppermint tea to Twilight that the mare didn’t ask for but was not upset to receive. (Zecora had never incorrectly guessed any creature’s tea proclivities. As an alchemist, she could infer such things.) “Of this pony I am aware, for have have encountered this green mare. It’s true she’s more than what she seems, but she’s nothing you haven’t seen.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen, huh?” Twilight asked, taking a sip of the tea. Piping hot, and entirely too much sugar-- just how she liked it. “Wow, this is great! How did you--” Zecora raised an eyebrow at Twilight, saying without words that she was off topic. “Right, sorry, thank you so much, though!” She had another sip and let out a slightly embarrassing mmmm. “She passed out in the library after over-exerting herself helping Spike shelve new donations, and I moved her to the guest bedroom. I invited the rest of the girls over to come meet her, but they all started arguing when I said she was a unicorn.’” Twilight looked to Zecora for some sort of response, but the zebra just nodded in understanding. “They all kept giving different accounts of everything but the first part of her name: Willow, and the tribe of pony she was. Applejack said there was an earth pony named ‘Willow Twigs’ who helped Big Macintosh reattach a wagon wheel this morning, Rarity said she roped the same pony into modeling for her broad-shouldered line that Applejack kept refusing to, Rainbow Dash says a pegasus otherwise matching this description named ‘Willow Whistle’ bumped into Bubbles on her mail route and felt so bad that she did half of it for her, and Fluttershy says a unicorn identical to the one I carried up two flights of stairs helped her to track a wolf that had jumped the fence. What gives?”

“You forgot that I saw her as an earth pony this morning too!” Pinkie Pie chimed in.

“Oh yeah, that too. Thank’s Pinkie.” Said Twilight, flatly, before doing a double take. Zecora flinched. “Pinkie Pie!? How’d you get in?”

“The back door, silly!” She squeaked, and patted the top of Twilight’s head with affectionate condescension.

“Pinkie Pie, there is no door out back,” said Zecora, still reeling a little from the pink mare’s sudden appearance, “You nearly gave me a heart-attack!”

“Yes you do, Zecora! How else could I have got in?” She asked, but didn’t wait for a reply. “And no, I didn’t! You have excellent heart health.”

How Pinkie knew this was beyond the other two’s comprehension entirely, so they continued the conversation without her while the bundle of energy entertained herself with a small, white-and-black toy car she retrieved from her mane. Par for the course for Pinkie Pie.

“I didn’t detect any magical alterations on her when I put her to bed-- I had to do a scan to make sure she wasn’t unwell-- but nopony saw three of her in the same place, so what has she been doing to change her-- OH MY GOODNESS, I’M AN IDIOT!” Twilight facehoofed in sudden realization (changelings didn’t leave any magical residue when transformed), and Zecora snickered a little at Twilight’s reaction. Zecora found it took too long for her to think of a rhyme for what she needed to say, so she often offered herself more as a wall for others to bounce ideas off of unless she could tell her wisdom-- bountiful though it was-- would be needed. Pinkie Pie made an unrelated series of vrooms, followed by a long tire-screech, and muttered something in what could’ve been Neighponese. Twilight took several deep breaths to collect herself before continuing to think out-loud. “But if she’s a changeling, then how come she’s pretending to be a pony-- er, three ponies? I know the hive’s reformation was recent, but surely she knows she doesn't need to hide.”

Zecora saw she would need to add, so she tried her best to think of a rhyme. “Her story is not mine to tell,” she said, simply, “but she herself has told it well.” Twilight gawked at this, but the three heard a knock at the door. Zecora seemed unperturbed at the prospect of having a third houseguest, but there seemed to be a finality to her stride to open the door. “Speak of Discord, and he shall arrive…” She swung open the door, revealing the changeling calling herself ‘Willow’, in form of an earth pony.

“I didn’t want to be part of the hive!” She spoke, then put her hooves over her mouth, as though she had no idea she was going to say that. Zecora smirked, pleased with herself, and winked at the shape-shifter, who stared, aghast.

“Oh, hi, Spiracle!” Pinkie Pie added, with genuine enthusiasm. Twilight was worried the mare might pass out again if anypony else dropped any more metaphorical bombs.

“H-Hi…? How did you--”

“I read your name-tag!”

“I’m not wearing a name tag.”

“Suuuuuure” said Pinkie, sarcastically. Zecora gestured for the mortified ‘pony’ to walk in, and Twilight just sat there, slack-jawed, tea getting cold.

“Hello again, miss Willow,” Zecora all-but sang (soon this would be over, that girl could stop freaking out, these crazy Equestrians would leave, and she could FINALLY eat her dinner), “How did your first day in Ponyville go?”

“Bad.” She deadpanned.

“Why hide yourself?” Twilight asked, with genuine curiosity and a complete lack of understanding that she was prying an awful lot into a stranger’s personal life.

The green ‘pony’ gulped audibly. There was silence, aside from Pinkie Pie singing lyrics to some up-tempo song very quietly between tire screeching sounds. “Um, h-hello, Princess Twilight Sparkle, It’s an honor to--”

“Please, don’t.” Twilight cut her off, and took a step towards the slightly taller mare. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you.” Twilight was sure the changeling was in danger by the way she was quaking. In fact, she seemed to be close to tears.

“I…” she began, stammering wordlessly for a few moments, Twilight’s eyes growing in concern. “I don’t wanna be a changeling!” She half-shouted. Pinkie stopped playing with her car to look up at them. “I wanna be a pony… I… I-I want to be soft and warm and cute and fluffy instead of hard and weird everybody looking at me like they’re scared of me!” She didn’t really want to keep spewing her guts like this, but there wasn’t much she could do to stop the torrent now that it had begun. “I thought that maybe if I left the hive, n-now that we don't need to steal love, that m-maybe I could just be a pony, b-but I couldn’t get my story straight! I didn’t know what kind to be!! You’re all so beautiful and soft and magical and amazing and I’m just scary and gross unless I’m pretending to be like you!” She sniffled, and barely stopped herself from breaking into full-throated sobs.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way, I’ve felt like that about a few things about myself too.” Said Twilight, empathetically. Pinkie had, at this point, risen from the floor and wrapped a foreleg around Twilight’s neck to half-hug her. “But changelings are beautiful too! Your vibrant colors and glittery carapaces are some of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen.” Zecora nodded at Twilight, but silently encouraged Willow to elaborate.

“I-I know, thank you, Princess,” She sniffled, calming down a small bit in the time Twilight spoke, “a-and I shouldn’t have called myself a monster, I’m sorry… B-but I dont want to be beautiful like a changeling is, I-I want to be beautiful like you…” Twilight blushed and the changeling waved a forehoof in the air defensively. “Broadly! Broadly. Like ponies are. I mean, you specifically, of course, but also you, and you…” She pointed to Zecora and Pinkie, and smiled. “I-I don’t want to have an exoskeleton, I want to have fur, and skin, and I want to be able to cuddle and to be soft and have a mane I can brush and spend too much money on taking care of, I wanna meet someone special to me and love them as a pony and not as a bug.” She took a deep breath, and sighed. “I had heard about a potion-maker outside of Ponyville, a-and I had hoped she'd have something that could make me into a real pony, and that maybe I could live here a-as a pony! But she didn't, a-and there isn't any such thing... I know that’s crazy, I-I’m sorry for dumping that all on y--” Twilight cut her off with a hug, which Pinkie Pie joined, and dragged Zecora into a few moments later. They sat in that embrace for several seconds before Twilight and Zecora broke away, Pinkie remained, but this was understood as normal by all involved.

“I understand completely.” Twilight said, choking up herself a little bit. “I-I don’t make this super public, but… I was born a colt. I spent most of my life until coming to Ponyville that way, trying to fit into a box I hated, and being told I looked good but not feeling it. I get it.” She stepped forward towards Willow Twigs again, and nuzzled her. The shapeshifting-pony gasped, but returned the gesture. “I understand why you weren’t consistent, either. You never had time to see what felt most like you. I think everypony will understand, and respect you. But if they don’t, then come see me, okay? I can’t change everypony’s mind, but most will listen to me and will at least treat you kindly.” She said, and took a moment to avoid thinking about her own past. “You’re safe, and welcome here.”

Willow Twigs just stood there, looking into the eyes of the Princess of Friendship herself, and trying not to start crying again. “Th-thank--” She failed, collapsing into the embrace of the alicorn in front of her and quivering with sobs. “Thank y-youu-uu…”

After a few minutes of crying, from both Willow and Pinkie (she didn’t want to feel left out), the three finally left Zecora’s house for the night, and she could congratulate herself for a job well-done with her favorite meal… or so she thought before hearing another knock at the door. Opening it revealed non other than Apple Bloom, her apprentice.

“Zecora,” the yellow filly began, visibly shaken, “do you know how to turn Scootaloo back into a pony? She’s a chicken right now, and…”

It had been a full week since Willow Whistle arrived in Ponyville. Although she got off to a rocky start, she had made new friends, some who knew just how she felt, and others who could come to learn. Twilight Sparkle was just as kind and understanding as she had heard, albeit with a whole host of neuroses that were worrying for a minor deity to possess, but she was generous enough to let Willow stay in the guest bedroom while she tried to find a more permanent living arrangement. She got to meet Twilight’s other friends a second time (third in the case of Pinkie) and all of them were very sweet and understanding of her predicament. A few more were even like her!

She even got to meet the three who had saved her former hive, including the Great and Powerful Trixie! Trixie was a major inspiration in the now-pony accepting who she was and pursuing the life she wanted to live. She was glad to have met her, even if she was disabused of the notion that there was anything ‘Great’ or ‘Powerful’ about Ms. Lulamoon other than her ego and undeniable good looks.

Willow, as Twigs, now had a full-time job as a farm hand at Sweet Apple Acres, and she even got to know that cute mailmare better! Her name was Bubbles-- how adorable!-- and the two had a date next weekend. When she first arrived, she knew this was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever do. She was right, but it was also the scariest, most important, and most wonderful thing she’d ever done too; and she was very glad to have done it. For the first time since she could remember, she felt like herself, and really was happy.

Enough reminiscing, though! She promised to help figure out how to turn that weird orange chicken back into a horse. She stuck her snout in yet another book in the castle’s library, and got to work.