//------------------------------// // Honest // Story: The Hag, the heroes, and a few other things // by Amaranthine Thought //------------------------------//             Rose was feeling unsure, uncertain.  Something was… wrong.  Something was very wrong, and she wasn’t quite sure what it was.             A little more than two weeks ago, the bearers had all left Ponyville in a hurry, as had the CMC.  According to the fillies, to meet with Hag far away in High Peak.  That was fine, but something wasn’t.             She wasn’t really sure what it was.  She didn’t have the words to describe it.             But perhaps the best description she could make, if such a description could even be considered viable was this:             The land was fearful.             A deep shuddering fear was under her hooves, and the slightest of tremors that couldn’t even be felt, but somehow were.             It set her on edge, though Honest had noticed nothing.             So she continued her life with that nagging fear constantly on her mind, until one day, when she waited for Honest to return home. He had done so early, and done so quickly, panicky.             “Rose!” he yelled, bursting into the home and Rose started.  His fear increased her own, and her voice quavered as she responded, trying to remain calm.             “Honest, is something the matter?”             Shen stopped, noticing his disheveled mane and slightly dirty form.  But perhaps worse;             There was a tiny cut on him, and she could still see a faint smear of blood on him, washed away, but still visible.             “Honest!” she yelled in shock upon seeing that, her fear amplifying.  What had happened to him!?  Was he hurt!?             “There is no time Rose.  We have to go, right now.”             “Honest that’s blood!” she yelled as he went to her.  “What happened!?”             “There is no,”             A sudden crash came from upstairs, and Honest leapt Rose entirely before colliding with something behind her.             She turned in shock, and saw him wrestling with a changeling.  Or perhaps wrestling was the wrong word.             He had dislocated one leg, and as she watched in horror, snapped its neck like he was well used to fighting.             He got up just as another one jumped him, and Rose screamed as the second’s horn stabbed his side.             Honest beat it off, and Rose saw a third, and found what she was made of.             She grabbed the nearest chair, and brutally hit it with it, continuing to do so, screaming the entire time, until it was an unmoving pulpy mess.             Then she stared at it, panting, and saw the blood that had scattered over everything.  She shuddered, and would have collapsed if Honest hadn’t grabbed onto her.             “Honest…”             “I know, I know.  Just hang on, and say nothing.  Say nothing for me.”             “I… I love you Rose.  I love you more than anything else.  Please remember that for me.”             “Stay still and silent.”             She felt him grab onto her, and lift her.  She jolted a little in shock as he flew somehow, carrying her.             “Honest?” she asked, her voice a wreck as she looked back.  She saw black legs.  Black legs with holes in them holding her.  She started to struggle and then froze when it spoke.             “It’s me.” the changeling holding her said.  The voice was Honest’s own.  “Honest, it’s me.  This… this is the real me.” he said.  He sounded… worried.  Terrified.             Rose looked back to her front, feeling numb and shocked.  She hung from his legs limply as he flew out of their home and into a Ponyville filled with changelings.             He chittered something to the nearest, and she saw it wince, and chitter something back.             Then he went up, flying high.             Honest was a changeling.  Her husband was a changeling.  Her friend ever since childhood, the same friend that had renewed her life, was a changeling.             How?  How could she not have noticed?  How could grandmother not have noticed?             Deception as a talent.  Ha.  It made a lot of sense now.  Just a big joke.             Was it all a big joke?  How much of his life had been nothing but lies?  Had she not found him because of fate, or because he had sensed her weakness?             Grandmother helped her to open up, and had he felt her pains and longing and rushed to answer them?  To feed on her love that he would so easily gain?             It was all nothing but a lie, wasn’t it?  As Honest kept flying, passing more and more changelings, every now and then chittering at them as he went to wherever he was going, she felt sure.             It was a big lie.  From start to finish.             She waited until they were in clear air once more and then asked, her voice dull, “What’s your name?”             “Honest.”             “I want your real name.”             “Honest.”             Rose growled a little, and she felt him hang on a little tighter.  “I want to know what the other changelings call you.  I don’t want to hear that… that lie ever again.”             There was a long moment.             “Changelings aren’t given names.  The only ‘name' I was ever given was my designation;”             “Infiltrator.”             “It fits you.” Rose spat.  “’Infiltrator’.  Of my trust and love, and grandmother’s trust.”  The legs holding her flinched slightly.             “I…”             “I don’t care.” Rose interrupted.  “I just don’t care.  Honest.  Ha.  Deception.  Ha ha...  Good joke, funny joke.  I hope you laughed enough and taken enough of my love for a pony that never even existed, Infiltrator.” she said, her voice heavy with anger.             She put as much hate and poison that she could into the next sentence, expressing what she felt.  “Because I never want to see you ever again.”             She didn’t receive a response.  Her anger was enough to hold herself for now, but later on, when it chilled, she would cry.             She had thought that her life was starting anew.  A new husband, a new child.  Something that she could start to… start to really cure her old pains.  Seal up those old scars and forget the sadness and pain they still offered.             She was enraged, but she was devastated at the same time.  Fooled, but fooled out of what she wanted more than nothing else.  Deceived into thinking that maybe her life might be happy.             Well, she was never going to be happy ever again.             Deceived by a changeling.  Romanced by a changeling.  Got grandmother to at least tolerate and maybe even like said changeling, all on her own.  Married the changeling.             Had a child with said changeling.             Nope.  Never happy, never again.             She hung from Infiltrator’s grasp, and closed her eyes, no longer caring where they were going.  Let them go anywhere; it didn’t matter anymore.             Infiltrator carried her fairly far before slowly descending into a rocky valley in the Everfree.  Once there, he carefully carried her into the cave, and he saw the weakened tree of harmony.             It flickered, the light seemingly beating like a heart.  The dead branches were gone now, and the ones remaining looked weak.             He cautiously, as if he held the most precious of things, set her down near it.  She simply laid down, her anger slowly dousing and her sadness coming to the fore as he hesitated in letting go.             She slapped his hooves away, and he snapped away.             “Go away.” she said, moving her head away from him, beginning to cry.             “…”             “You’ll be safe here.  The tree can protect you.”             “The queen is doing everything she can this time to win.  This is worse than the wedding.  Just… just remain here.  They can’t come in here, not even the queen.”             “I’ll… I’ll bring you some food, and there’s water.  The tree can take care of everything else.  You’ll be fine.”             “… I’m sorry.”             “Just… Go.” she said, her voice weak, nearly blind for her tears. Her breathing caught every now and then.             Infiltrator hesitated for a few moments longer before turning and flying away.             Rose was safe.  Absolutely safe.  Nothing could get her while she was in the tree’s cave, even with it hurt as it was.  His heart bled, but he stopped it.  He made it like he was just fine.  He had to be.             This was not the time to cry.  Not if he was going to help anypony else.             As he went, he shifted.  When another changeling saw him, his disguise was perfect.             A changeling, but a rather special changeling.             One that had been hurt so as to sever the mental connection to the rest of the hive.             “Where is the queen?” he asked as he came closer, connecting very carefully to the changeling in front of him, so it wouldn’t notice.             The changeling there gave him a pitying expression.             “Far, in the pony capital, in the stone hive.” It said, its voice harsh and weak; unused to having to talk.             Infiltrator nodded, flying toward Canterlot, listening to the mental chatter as he went.             Heroes, captured, bring to the queen.  Alicorns, captured, make sure they sleep.  Ponies, pacify, and do not kill unless needed.             Set Hag next to the alicorns, and make her sleep.  A sense that she wasn’t, and that they were having a hard time with her.  He smirked a little at that and disconnected.             He had the information he needed.  Now, he just had to trick about a hundred changelings that he was one of them.             Which would be hard if they sensed the sheer amount of love he carried in him.  The love of Rose Bush.             They would know that he was a deserter if they sensed that.             The biggest challenge he had ever faced:             Hide his love.  Eavesdrop mentally without being noticed, so that he could know what the hive was doing.  Find and replicate the authentication codes so he could walk amongst them without worry.  Falsify information that would probably mean imitating the queen.  Infiltrate the hive, and maybe trick the queen herself.             Find and free the pony who could fix this, and help her in any way he could.  And if Hag wasn’t able to fix this, then nopony ever would.             But even imitating the queen would be easy compared to keeping his pain inside.  He had lost Rose, the one pony he had ever really loved, and even the perfect love that filled him seemed painful now.  He would never have it again. Ponies cry. There's lots of reasons for ponies to cry, the loving beings so easily connecting with others.             Changelings don’t cry.  They never have a reason to, lacking an ability to connect emotionally unless something nigh impossible occurred. That a changeling first abandon their hive, and deny the queen's commands. And survive, because deserters were to be killed on sight. And then, after being raised and living in a place where love was a food to be taken without remorse, become willing to share. Somehow the love of a pony might just be able to change them, but it was impossibly rare. Changelings don't cry.             But one felt like he might just.