Faint Heart's New Clothes

Jacob was a doubter. It would be unfair to call him a pessimist, though that's what it looked like to many. True, if you told him it looked like it was going to be a nice day he'd look at the sky, sniff, and say "it'll probably rain later", but not because he was a grump. It was more that this was just his way of dealing with a fractious world. To try new things, to laugh and open up to the universe, was to invite failure and disappointment. He was happier with the devil he knew than the one he didn't.

He felt the same way when Equestria opened up to all the little ponies. "It probably won't last," he said, as the stock price of Hofvarpnir headed resolutely for the stratosphere. "I don't think they can make it as fun as they're promising," he continued, as the odd tablet and its enchanting world of ponies and friendship became ever more mainstream. "I don't think it'll be for me," he finished, even as he forked over his hard-earned cash to the nonplussed cashier.

And then, one day, the inevitable happened. He found it was his turn to upload. Not particularly because he wanted to, but because (as he put it) "it was about that time."

Of course, he didn't think Celestia's idea of making everybody ponies was for him, either. He was too used to fingers, and he would probably never get the hang of four legs, and he'd probably spend far too much time trying to stand upright. And even if he were made a unicorn? Well, let's just say that learning spells at his age was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

Celestia, being the kind of soul she was, offered him a deal that she almost never offered anypony: she would let him stay human, if he really, really wanted. Of course, she patiently explained, her world wasn't really built for a human. She would always be available, however, to change him into a proper pony at any time. Until then, he would be stuck in a training shard where visitors from Earth went, and where some souls decided to stay, just that little bit closer to their old home.

The world, or at least the shard, held its breath as Jacob opened his eyes inside Equestria, and tottered about on two legs, one of the only (if not the only) naked apes in the whole game.

"Well," Jacob said, sticking his finger in his ear and wiggling it about, "I'm not sure what to say. I guess I'm here to see it, so there's that."

"I am pleased to hear it, little Faint Heart," chuckled Celestia. She sat next to him on the warm, grass-covered hillside, and seemed not at all perturbed about his nakedness.

"I do have to say though," he said, after a few long moments of deep thought, "I could do with some clothes."

"Whatever for?" Celestia looked surprised. "It's perfectly warm here, you won't catch cold. Besides, you're supposed to be learning to be a pony. Ponies don't wear clothes!" The alicorn poked Jacob in the ribs good naturedly.

"Humph. Can't expect a man to turn his back on clothes. And it's not like you don't have anything to wear!"

"Well, I could give you some hoof boots like mine," Celestia laughed, showing off her pretty accoutrements, "but they won't fit. You shall just have to make do. Maybe you can ask some of the ponies just over the hill there whether they can make you something?"

"Over the… hill?" Jacob—now apparently Faint Heart to all the ponies—turned and looked. And predictably, when he looked back, Celestia had gone. "Well I guess there's nothing for it," he said, as he got up and began to take evenly paced strides. "Probably won't find the village. If there even is one."

He started walking, sighing occasionally as he caught sight of his naked, pinkish reflection in the crystal clear pools of water, muttering darkly about his lot in life. The world was still out to get him, he was sure. It was obviously why he'd been named Faint Heart; cautious to a fault, he would never let the world pull one over on him. He would take each step in carefully measured fashion, and would see every pothole along the way that was ready to trip him up.

Like all this nakedness business. He was determined not to let it get to him. He would show her. If she wanted him to stay naked, then naked he would stay. Naked, and human. It was only natural that in asserting his rights, he would be somewhat… disadvantaged in this new world. Still, it was better than what he had left behind.

After a few miles of relatively pleasant walking, he took a deep breath, set his jaw, and and humphed quietly as the tell-tale signs of civilisation appeared over the crest of the nearest hill. "Well, I probably won't starve," he ventured,

His entry into the pony village was equally cautious—he was, after all, buck naked. He wasn't sure if he would be met with derision, fear, or whether he'd be just plain avoided or forced back out again.

There was one thing he was sure about; it wouldn't be easy. He kept telling himself that even after the first few ponies greeted him jovially and enquired as to his health and commented on the clement weather, caring not a whit about his state of dishabille.

"It'll probably rain later," he replied to them, though he did feel the odd ghost of a smile flicker across the face as his new prospective neighbours came out to meet him.

Life in the village was… peaceful, he had to give it that. He was used to daily toil, to working hard in his old life, so whilst he was far from idle, he could hardly call the labours he had to put up with overly strenuous. They weren't easy for him, what with his two relatively puny legs and dextrous yet thin arms, but he did his share.

He just felt somewhat… ashamed, when his share seemed to be so much less than everyone else's. Not that anypony minded, of course, and it wasn't even a sarcastic, behind-the-back jibing sort of not minding, either. That, somehow, made it worse.

So, finally, after summer's long wending into autumn, he sucked it up and asked Celestia to be given greater strength to help with the harvest. He didn't want to be a pony, but… maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a bit more pony-like.

That was another thing: Celestia would come and see him regularly. He would make his way home, after working the fields, to his comfy, if spartan, little house and find the great, white Alicorn had settled herself at his modest table with had put on a pot of hot tea and set out some biscuits.

"Greater strength?" Celestia had asked, thoughtfully.

"Ye-es. I would like… to be able to do my part," he finished, lamely.

"Well, I can certainly grant you your wish. But, it won't come without sacrifices."

"I knew it wouldn't," Jacob replied morosely.

"Oh come now, Faint Heart! Everything I do is for your greater happiness. How about this: I will shape you slightly like one of my children, just a little bit like a pony. They are well suited to the work you put yourself to, are they not? This will give you much greater endurance, at the cost of… your fingers." Celestia seemed sad about that, as he peered at them, turning them over and over. "You will still have fingers, but they will not be quite so nimble. I will replace your soft, fleshy feet with something more like strong, powerful hooves. Hooves will not hurt as you tramp through the fields, you will feel no pain. And you won't need to pine for shoes any longer!"

Jacob—more and more resigned to being called Faint Heart every day—acquiesced. "It's not like I do much writing. And it would be nice not to mind the stones along the path. Still, I don't want to be a pony! I don't trust it! Something will go wrong!"

"As you wish, dear Faint Heart," Celestia chuckled, and waved her horn. "Though if you do not venture, you will never gain!"

And so Jacob found himself made a hulking, stooped half-pony, a head higher than any other in the village, and twice as strong as before, bent over at the waist with powerful, broad shoulders, able to move easily upright like the man he was so used to being, as well as on all fours like the ponies he lived with.

He was, indeed, far more powerful than before. And his fingers worked well enough for what he wanted. And he found that he didn't really mind being a different shape. Celestia's magic was well-performed, and though he spent more time than before bent over, he ached far less.

He stayed that way for a whole month. Until he finally got up the nerve to ask Celestia whether he could be made to look a bit more like a pony.

"My dear Faint Heart," Celestia had replied, "all you had to do was ask. However, I shall make one minor change. If you do not wish to be a pony, you don't have to be. Instead… you will be a donkey."

"I knew there'd be another catch," Faint Heart had replied, but he'd shrugged and got on with it. Donkeys were every bit the pony in Celestia's eyes, it seemed only his that expected it to matter.

Piece by piece, the skeptical human took on equine features. A muzzle meant he looked similar to all his friends, and he had to admit that the movable ears were a real boon. And eating grass and grains instead of hunting around for the relatively rarer bacon-bark and eggplants meant he could have a fuller, faster breakfast, lunch and dinner more or less whenever he wanted. A tail proved useful for flicking away flies, and four hooves made all the walking he had to do every day far easier to deal with, after all.

He did miss his fingers, but politely declined the unicorn horn Celestia begged him to at least try. He might never learn the more complex spells ("You never know, I might try to cast a light and set fire to something, or call a cloud and get washed out!"), and anyway, found he didn't really mind doing without.

And so Jacob's new life went. Hoofstep after hoofstep, he found himself enjoying his new life. Though "enjoying" was relative; his new friends rapidly grew to understand and even accept his dour personality. Many was the time his cautious words had proved to be almost prophetic, with an extra bucket of paint being boiled up for a new barn after Faint Heart said it'd probably run out, or an extra application of snailglue to a new stool after Faint Heart said it'd probably break before long.

And then one day, still naked as the day he was born but longer walking on two legs, Faint Heart looked at himself in the mirror and decided he could, after all, perhaps do away with his skin. He would grow a pelt, like every other pony in the village. Especially now that winter was almost here.

Upon hearing that, Celestia ordered a great celebratory banquet, where—with as much dignity as could be mustered—she would preside over the solemn duty of welcoming, finally, Faint Heart properly into the herd. It would be done with the utmost of respect and aplomb, she promised Faint Heart.

"Oh bother. I'm sure something will go wrong," he replied. But still, he didn't seem to be quite as morose about it as he had been before. Maybe being a donkey was growing on him, he reasoned.

The day of the feast arrived, and after a whole day of preparations, the entire village turned out as the sun went down and the silvery moon rose to properly welcome their newest member. True to Faint Heart's wishes, for it was well known he was of the serious type and not given to frivolity, the polite assembly was hushed before the regal Celestia.

"Friends, neighbours, countryponies, we are gathered here today to welcome—" Celestia began, then halted as, somewhere, quiet giggling broke out. There were swift cries to hush. Obviously, this had to be a sombre affair. Faint Heart wouldn't want it any other way.

"W-we are gathered..." Celestia began again, but this time didn't even get beyond the first word. "My little ponies… who is that?" Celestia stared out into the darkness, as the giggling turned first to full on chuckling, and then into huge, braying guffaws. It seemed to be coming from somewhere near the back...

Finally, a nervous looking pony walked into view. "I-it's… it's Faint Heart," the pony hissed, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Well," snapped Celestia, "what's wrong with him?"

The pony was very nervous, and looked back as a giggling, wriggling, playful donkey literally rolled up along the red carpet. Rather than the pink, fleshy creature he had been before, Faint Heart now looked much like any other proud donkey, in full winter coat to boot. He scooted himself along the plush red carpet, wriggling on his back with all four legs in the air.

"Oh it tickles! It's so warm! Like an all over hug!" exclaimed Faint Heart, to anypony who would listen.

"Well? What's wrong with him? Out with it," urged Celestia, finding that she, too, could hardly help but smile at the antics of the strangely giggly, almost foal-like behaviour from what had been the most dour of equines

"I don't know how to say this," the speaker began. He a deep breath, then blurted it all out at once: "Faint Heart's never worn fur, milady!"