Morning dawned in soft light over the badlands. I watched the sun rise, as I often did, through the eyes of the high scout, who sat on her wisp of cloud far above the hive. She welcomed me with a wordless warmth. She enjoyed my company. Together we watched Celestia paint the sky with dawn color, while the world below gradually turned from a dark, misty unknown into a stark world of red and orange stone.
At last the sun itself peeked above the horizon. The buzzing of insectile wings announced the arrival of the day scout, and as the two exchanged silent pleasantries I bid them both a quick mental farewell and opened my own eyes.
It was much darker here, within the hive. The main lights of the room were still off, but a gentle golden glow shone over everything from the feeding crystal embedded in the wall. Seeing that made me smile. When I'd first arrived in the old queen's room, that crystal had held the barest flickering spark and the hive had been on the brink of starvation. Now it glowed with a vivid amber warmth, full with more than enough energy to keep the hive well-fed and content.
Around me, faintly glowing blue eyes flicked open as the other changelings began to stir. The gigantic bed in the center of the room was a pile of drones, and I was at the heart of it. They were my "hoof-maidens", the drones who tended and groomed me. The privilege of doing so was already a sought-after honor in the hive, and I made certain that they rotated regularly to give as many drones as possible a chance. They all enjoyed being near me, and I found that enjoyment gratifying. One of them reached out and started grooming my crest. It looked almost like a proper mane now, rather than standing up stiffly as it had when I'd been merely a drone. I yawned and stretched a little bit, then settled myself in to enjoy her attentions. After a moment I started to return the favor. I enjoyed grooming as much as I enjoyed being groomed, and the drones were always ecstatic at my touch.
Of course some of the hive's members still weren't all that fond of me. Some of them had actually liked Chrysalis, and a number of others didn't approve of the new direction the hive was taking under my guidance, no matter how little they’d liked the old Queen—not to mention the several under-queens who still resented my "stealing" the chance at the throne from them. Such malcontents would never volunteer to be here, though. I was aware of them, tiny sour notes in the contented hum of the hive in my mind, but they were a minority, and I knew most of them would come around eventually.
That hum was another thing that had changed. I hadn't been all that aware of it at the time, but under Chrysalis, especially towards the end, the hum had been as mad as the queen herself. Individual changelings might have been calm and sane, even as individuals now might be discontented or angry, but by and large the hive felt as one. The queen was the heart of that feeling, of course, yet now that I was queen I found that the hive affected me as much as I affected the hive. That had been difficult at first. I'd felt strange mood swings, bouts of depression, and long stretches of despair and confusion as the hive dealt with the aftermath of Chrysalis' defeat and my accidental coronation. But now both hive and I were mostly happy, and life was good.
Hey, you're awake! Pinkie Pie's voice sounded in my head.
Indeed I am. I see that you're already baking. I looked through her eyes for a moment, and they showed the familiar sight of the kitchen at Sugarcube Corner.
Yepparooni! Bread rises before the sun does. You still on for the party tonight?
I am, yes. Have you found out if your guest is changeling-phobic yet?
I have! She's so totally not, it's amazing. She actually told me that she's an entime... entym... that she studies bugs! So she thinks changelings are kind of neat. The way there are so many around Ponyville is one of the reasons she wanted to move here. How awesome is that? So you can definitely come as yourself.
That sounds wonderful. I'll be there then! Love you.
Love you too, said Pinkie in reply. I pulled back from Pinkie's eyes and returned my attention to the grooming, enjoying the attentions of the half-dozen drones gathered around me. When that was done, I rose and headed out of the room. One drone, whose eyes were a bit less blue and a little more green than the others', followed after me. She was Minder, effectively my second in command, and she was nearly always at my side.
I made my way through an open archway into the imposing throne room. I still wasn't sure what to do with it. Chrysalis had spent a great deal of her time lounging on the throne and feeling adored by her drones. I had pretty much zero interest in that; the grooming was the closest I came to wanting their worship, and to me that was more of a chance to become friends with them—to strengthen the hive bond with bonds of affection. I supposed the room would be useful if there ever was an official pony visit to the hive. Throne rooms were the kind of thing ponies expected from royalty—Celestia's was certain impressive enough.
I thought about how far we'd come as I walked. Only a few months ago the hive had been near starvation, ruled by a queen who was growing increasingly manic and paranoid. Now we were once again prosperous and well-supplied with emotional energy, and I ruled in Chrysalis' place. For someone who had formerly been nothing but an ordinary drone, a mid-level infiltrator of no particular importance, I'd come a very long way.
The hive's prosperity still came in part from the work of such infiltrators. We weren't yet free of the need for covert energy gathering... but we got a little bit closer every day. Already drones were becoming a common sight around Ponyville, drawing food freely and openly from the many ponies there who welcomed them and considered them to be friends.
That was not without its problems on both sides, of course. But once the drones tasted that ponies generally didn't hate them or wish to do them harm, they adjusted swiftly. My reassurances in their minds helped, too. Ponies were slightly harder to convince; they couldn't sense the drones' intentions the way the drones could sense theirs, and changelings could hardly have been more frightening to the pony eye if they'd been designed with that in mind. But with Celestia herself publicly proclaiming my hive friends and allies, and the Elements of Harmony backing her up—not to mention all that Pinkie Pie did as an unofficial ambassador for the hive—the ponies were slowly coming around.
There was an official ambassador too, with an embassy in Canterlot, just outside the palace itself. It was staffed by several drones, all volunteers. They were led by one particularly quirky individual, a drone who'd been one of the hive's best infiltrators in times past. I actually vaguely remembered him from my own training; he'd been one of those who helped teach me about pony customs. He had told me that he enjoyed living among ponies more than living with the hive, and that the chance to do so openly was an exciting new opportunity.
He went by the name of Wildcard, which was another eccentricity. Most changeling drones only used names when passing as ponies; they didn't tend to think of themselves as individuals. Wildcard was about as much of an individual as I'd ever met though, and he was doing an amazing job of charming the ponies of Canterlot.
I let out a contented sigh as I moved through the hive's arched corridors. Everything was going perfectly.
Of course there had been a few hiccups... My first few days ruling the hive had been particularly chaotic. Thankfully I'd had Pinkie Pie and her friends with me right at the beginning, or one thing in particular would have probably gone horribly wrong.
"Oh dear." Rarity shuddered as she looked around the chamber.
"This more what you had in mind when you were thinkin' about changeling decor, sugarcube?"
The little group of ponies stood in the arched entrance to a large chamber. From the ceiling dangled a dozen green pods, each one enclosing a sleeping pony. I reached up with my magic and cut the resin that glued one of them to the ceiling, carefully lowering it.
Pinkie and her friends gathered around. I also looked like a pony for the time being, having taken my by-now-comfortable pink stallion's form to avoid alarming the prisoners we were about to release.
I looked through the translucent pod to see a familiar face floating in the green goo within. The occupant of the first pod was Lyra. I wasn't surprised to see her here; Lyra's face had been worn by one of the infiltrators who'd captured me. I swiftly cut open the membrane, letting the goo drain out. Lyra staggered to her hooves and immediately began coughing, clearing it from her lungs. After a few minutes she raised her head, her eyes looking more than a little wild. "Changelings! Changelings everywhere!"
"It's all right, you're safe now, I promise," I said.
She narrowed her eyes and suddenly shot a beam of magic at me. I was not remotely ready for it and didn't manage to block or dodge it, it struck me square in the chest. My disguise vanished in a flash of green fire, leaving me standing there, a tall, lanky changeling with bright blue-green wing covers, a mane-like crest of filmy turquoise, and a long, curved horn. Even my usual cupcake cutie mark had been stripped off by the spell, since it too was created by my magic.
"Changeling!" screamed Lyra as she backed away from me.
"It's okay, I won't hurt you, please," I said, feeling more than a little panicked. What was I supposed to do now?
"Lyra! Do me next!" shouted Pinkie Pie, bouncing between us with a gleeful grin.
Lyra yelped and shot another beam of magic, which hit Pinkie and did nothing at all.
"That tingles, he he!" said Pinkie.
"N-not a changeling?" said Lyra.
"Nope, just Pinkie Pie."
Lyra's eyes flicked around to the others. "What about them?"
"Sweetcake is the only changeling here, and you know him. You were at both his welcome parties, remember? He won't hurt you. It's okay. We'll let the rest of these ponies out, and then we can take you home." Pinkie trotted forward and gave Lyra a hug, and after a long moment when she stood stiffly, radiating acrid fear, Lyra suddenly hugged her back, clinging to her.
"Home. Home is good."
I quietly resumed my disguise, and set about setting the other ponies free, but I let Pinkie and her friends handle greeting them after that. Lyra kept shooting me suspicious looks, but every time she did, Pinkie would start up some strange line of conversation about something completely random, and keep babbling until Lyra smiled.
Fortunately the rest of the ponies were freed without further incident and returned safely to their homes, whether in Ponyville or beyond it.
That hadn't been the only unexpected difficulty I'd faced since becoming queen, however. The second problem to crop up had reared its head the very same day we freed the captured ponies, only two days after I'd become queen.
Pinkie and her friends had left, escorting the other ponies back to Ponyville. I'd taken one last meal of love and friendship from them and seen them on their way. Back in what was now my bedroom I contemplated putting more of that love energy into the hive's stores, but decided to finish exploring my rooms first. There were three arches, besides the one that lead to the throne room, and I had no idea what lay behind any of them.
The first proved to lead to a small, dark chamber. When my eyes adjusted I saw half a dozen changelings sleeping in a heap on the floor. One of them opened her eyes and looked at me. I sensed a drowsy query, did I need her? I told her silently that I did not, and she lowered her head and went back to sleep.
The second arch led to a bathing room at least as luxurious as the bedroom. I blinked at it. Why would Chrysalis need a pony-style bathing chamber, when she had servant drones to groom her? I stood there for a while, looking in the huge mirror against one wall, and realized that the mirror itself was at least part of the answer. Chrysalis was vain. She quite likely thought a mere grooming insufficient.
The third arch led into a tunnel that sloped down into darkness. Across its mouth was an invisible shield. I could sense it now because it was mine. It was as ancient as the hive itself. I walked through it easily and continued, curious to see what might require such protection.
I passed through eight more shields as I continued down. Each one felt a bit different. I concentrated on them and found I could read what it was they were shielding against. The first, surprisingly, was shielding against changeling drones. Another excluded ponies, while still more blocked out such unlikely creatures as buffalo and zebra. One, interestingly, excluded under-queens, but it was subtly different. It rippled oddly as I passed through it, in a way that would let an under-queen through, but only directly in my wake. As I stood before the last one, contemplating the room beyond it, I suddenly knew where I was and what—in general at least—I would find inside. The final spell also shielded against changelings, but not drones, no. It was tuned to exclude changeling males.
I was certain, as I cautiously stepped through it, that it was meant not to keep anything out, but to keep the occupants of this room in.
Inside, the room did not look like a prison. In fact it looked more like a paradise. The walls were entirely covered in tiled mosaics, showing pastoral scenes from the world above. Animals frolicked across meadows and among forests, while birds flew in the blue sky above, and flowers bloomed everywhere. The floor was tiled too, in an abstract pattern of blue and green, accented with charcoal black—the hive's colors.
Overhead, a magical light shed a faintly greenish glow over everything, while from one wall a waterfall fell over mossy rocks, to run down a tiled channel in the floor and disappear through the far wall. Its peaceful babble filled the room. There were several arches leading into additional rooms. I caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a small version of the hive's fungus farms through one, so the changelings living here seemed to be well-supplied with food, as well as water. Another looked as though it contained sleeping quarters; I could see a carpeted floor, and a corner of what was probably a bed.
One thing, however, was missing. I could see no sign of a feeding crystal's golden glow anywhere here. Meaning that the changelings kept here had no way to gain emotional energy save from the one being able to pass through those spells: the queen of the hive.
That was me, now, but only two days ago it had been Chrysalis. And she had not been exactly what I'd call benevolent. I would not have wanted to be dependent on her generosity.
The sound of my hooves on the tiled floor brought a swift reaction from within another side chamber. A tall, slender form emerged from the archway, and I caught my first glimpse of a changeling male. He was about my height, which made him a little bit shorter than Chrysalis had been, but a good bit taller than an ordinary changeling. His eyes were blue, like a drone's, and without pupils, and his body was covered in charcoal-colored chitin, but there his similarity with other changelings ended. His wings, horn, and fangs were all stunted, comparatively tiny. The wings were beautifully iridescent, far more so than my own, and marked with subtle patterns. His wing cases as well were bright, showing a shimmering rainbow of green, gold, blue, and purple. His mane and tail seemed to be actual hair, like a pony's, and were so long they swept the ground. They were a soft indigo, with shimmering hints of gold where the light fell on them. His body was slender, even more so than my own, and his hooves were small, almost delicate, at the ends of long, slender legs that bore no holes whatsoever. Possibly because if they had, his legs might have snapped.
In short he was delicate, fragile, and absolutely gorgeous, and I felt a strange, rather unnerving quiver in my stomach to see him. It wasn't anything conscious, really. I could see that he was pretty, but if it were up to me he wouldn't hold a candle to Pinkie Pie. My body, however, had a very different opinion of him. It thought he was the most wonderful thing in the world.
I took a deep breath, trying to settle myself. That proved to be a mistake. He smelled amazing. The scent strengthened that quiver in my stomach, making my heart beat just a little bit faster.
He came over to me, moving with perfect, elegant grace, and bowed deeply, his muzzle nearly touching the floor. "My queen," he said. It was out loud, which was another way in which he was different from other changelings. I could feel a bond with him, but it was a faint, tenuous thing. He was hardly present in my mind at all. I could catch a faint hint of what he was feeling—hunger was foremost it seemed—but it lacked any subtlety, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking at all.
"Rise," I said. "You have no need to bow to me."
"You are our queen," he said.
I sighed. "Yes. That means I'm responsible for you, not that you should worship me."
He looked at me silently, his eyes unreadable. His bond revealed little more. I didn't know what to make of him. I could at least do something about the hunger which was the one thing I sensed clearly from him, though. "You have no feeding crystals here?"
"No. The queen feeds us after we have pleased her."
I blinked. Did he mean what I thought he did? Knowing Chrysalis, probably. I scowled. "That stops now. I will have feeding crystals installed here. For now I will feed you myself. Come here."
He hesitated, and I did sense something other than hunger then. Fear. Still, he slowly drew closer. His scent was strong in my nostrils, sending an electric shiver down my spine.
I managed to ignore the urges that stirred in me and only lowered my head to carefully touch my horn to the little nub of a horn on his forehead. I fed him generously, pouring love energy into him. As the hunger he felt eased, I could sense his other emotions a little bit more clearly. Foremost among them now was surprise. He hadn't expected me to actually do that.
"I will feed the others as well, if they wish," I said.
He nodded and stepped back. I could sense that fear and surprise were warring within him, but he looked serene enough as he bowed again, then turned and left, going into the sleeping chamber. A few minutes later he returned, with eight more males following him. I took a moment to marvel at that. Just nine males. There were seventeen under-queens, if I counted Minder, and a little over two thousand drones in the hive. But just nine males.
They looked shy and fearful. Several of them were apparently trying to hide behind the one who had spoken to me first. One even hid behind his mane in a posture that reminded me strongly of Fluttershy. I noticed that their colors differed slightly. All were mostly the blue-green colors of this hive, but there were hints of gold and purple to be found as well, and the exact shades of blue or green varied quite a bit across them.
Moving slowly and doing my best to project a soothing calm through the fragile bond between us, I went to each one in turn and touched horns.
The air of fear in the room eased a little bit as I did no more than feed them emotional energy. I was left close to exhaustion, I hadn't held back any reserves, but I could draw on the feeding crystal back in my chambers when this was done.
I felt Pinkie peering curiously out through my eyes, no doubt wondering why I was feeling so suddenly tired. She looked at the males and sympathy filled her. Poor things, she said as I fed the last one. They look like kicked puppies. Chrysalis must have been pretty mean to them.
Indeed. Add one more to the list of crimes she has to answer for. The male nearest me flinched back, apparently sensing my sudden spike of anger. "Ssh, I won't hurt you," I said to him. "I'm not angry at you. I am angry at Chrysalis, for treating you so badly." I turned and looked at the little group, all still trembling and hesitant, even now. Only the one who had approached me first seemed without fear, and I suspected that he was merely better at hiding it. "I want to help you be happy. What do you want? Name anything and I will get it for you. I can remove the shields if you want, and let you free. Whatever you wish, you have only to ask."
The bolder one shook his head almost frantically. "No, no don't take away the shields. It's safe here. There are ponies out there. They would hurt us."
"You don't need to fear ponies," I said, but he kept looking at me with terror in his eyes, so I added, "I'll leave the shields up, don't worry. But ponies are our friends. They are much like changelings, there's no need to fear them."
He looked away, obviously not believing me, but not willing to argue with his queen. I sighed. Hopefully they would lose their fear of ponies eventually. Hopefully they would lose their fear of me eventually! "What else do you want?" I said. "I'll put feeding crystals here, so you don't need to depend on me for food. What else would you like?"
"You don't want anything from us first?" asked the bold male. He sounded and felt puzzled.
"No, not at all. I just want to take care of you, to help you be happy."
The shy one, with his hair falling over his face, crept close to me. He was practically crouched with his belly to the floor, despite his long legs. "Don't you want us?" he said, nearly whispering. "Do you find us so repulsive?" His eyes, looking up at me, were full of sadness. I swallowed. With him there at my feet, his scent filled my nostrils. Another little shiver ran down my spine. My body definitely had ideas about what I should be doing with him. I told it to shut up.
"I don't find you repulsive," I said. The corners of my mouth quirked, unsure whether to turn up or down. "Quite the opposite, in fact. But it wouldn't be right for me to act on that desire, for a number of reasons. So please, rise. You don't need to bow to me. You don't need to do anything you don't want to, any of you."
"We want to please you," said the bolder one. "That is our purpose." The shy one was still at my feet, his scent making it increasingly hard to think straight.
"I, uh, I don't want to make you unhappy, but I can't let you."
"Why not?"
"It's complicated." I tried to figure out how to explain Pinkie Pie and my love for her to them. They wouldn't understand pony ideas about love and fidelity. Changelings didn't operate that way. I understood them only because I'd been among ponies so much. Finally all I could say was, "I just can't."
I looked down at the shy male, still crouched near my feet. I reached out a hoof and patted him softly, trying to reassure him. "Rise, please," I said as gently as I could. He peered up at me, then slowly got to his feet.
"Do the under-queens treat you well?" I asked.
"They do not come here often," the bolder male said.
"Would you like it if they came more often?" I asked.
He nodded, and I saw the others echo his nod without hesitation. That made me feel a bit better. Surely if the under-queens had been abusive as well they wouldn't all want them to come? "That would be good," he said.
"I'll arrange for it, then." I was fairly certain I could dismiss some of the protective spells. I could probably even bring Pinkie in here with a little work, but she would probably terrify them. "Is there anything else you would like?"
There was a puzzled silence, and finally the bolder male shook his head. "Only to please you," he said again.
"You will please me best by being happy," I replied. They still seemed baffled by that. There was really nothing else I could do but let time show them that they wouldn't be punished for daring to have wants and desires besides serving me. So I turned to go. "I'll come back later and make sure all is well here. And I'll get those feeding crystals for you, and see that the under-queens can visit. Don't hesitate to let me know if you think of anything else you want."
I walked back up the tunnel, grateful to be leaving the extraordinarily distracting scent of them behind. As I walked, I mused on my predecessor's complete mismanagement of the hive. I hoped that the males could become happier and less timid now that she was gone. Perhaps eventually they could even leave their prison and live out among the other changelings, finding relationships as they desired with the under-queens, and not depending on me for anything at all.
Now, three months later, they were somewhat less like kicked puppies, but they were still fearful and cautious. I had not yet brought Pinkie Pie to meet them. I had, however, put in the promised feeding crystals, and the under-queens visited them regularly, once I'd made it clear that I wouldn't object to it, nor to their passing through my room in order to do so. I had nebulous plans to build a new entrance to their chambers that didn't go through mine, and I still hoped to eventually coax them into being willing to leave their rooms. Even if they said they didn't mind, it didn't sit well with me, effectively keeping them as prisoners.
So on that front, too, all was going well, and the future held hope for things to improve even further.
The future of the hive was, in fact, where my hooves were headed this morning. With Minder shadowing me faithfully, I made my way through the busy corridors to a room that lay behind several layers of protective shields. I stepped through them into a high-arched space filled with greenish pods. These, however, did not hold ponies; they were too small to do so. Or, too small to hold adult ponies, at least. They were a little larger than a newborn foal. They also were not hanging from the ceiling. They were carefully stored in hexagonal chambers built into the walls of the room. A trio of drones tended them, scurrying busily about the room. There were quite a few empty chambers, but even more of them bore pods. Some pods seemed empty, though they were not. Others clearly showed the small, dark forms within.
I rested my nose gently against the surface of one pod, whose little grub was particularly well developed. She would pupate and hatch soon. Closing my eyes, I touched the tiny, unformed mind within. I sensed nothing but a wordless murmur of contentment. All was well.
I lifted my head and regarded the other pods with a benign smile. I loved coming here. The minds of the developing grubs were pleasant. More than that, though, this room symbolized everything I wanted for the hive. Most of these grubs had been laid in their pods by Chrysalis, and none by me, so they were my siblings rather than my literal children, but I still felt rather maternal towards them.
My queen?
I turned, facing the source of that soft mental query. One of the under-queens stood there. She was one of those that had been glad when I had replaced Chrysalis. She was also one of those who tended diligently to the hive, bearing her greater power as a duty rather than a mark of superior status. I smiled at her. Are the nymphs ready?
They are. They are very eager to see you.
Lead on then.
This particular under-queen had charge of teaching the youngest nymphs. She was assisted by a small army of drones, as caring for the young was very important in the hive. It had, of course, been below Chrysalis' notice. I, however, had recently decided I should visit a class of nymphs at least once a week. I'd begun with the older nymphs, so this would be my first visit to this particular class.
Now I followed the under-queen out of the egg and grub chamber and into one of the nymph nurseries. This particular room was the classroom for the three-to-four-year-olds (Though changeling nymphs developed a little bit faster than ponies, so they were similar to pony children of around five).
When I stepped into the chamber there was a chorus of happy squeaks, and I was showered with a sudden hail of mental voices.
It's the queen!
Yay, the queen!
They swarmed around my hooves, excited and eager. They were much quieter than a room full of pony foals would have been, of course, but they were still far from silent; they squeaked and buzzed with enthusiasm and my mind was full of their excited questions. I could feel their eager happiness, and also feel that some of them were rather intimidated by me. Even some of those who peppered me with questions were sometimes amazed at their own daring.
Your mane is so pretty, can I touch it?
Is it true you're friends with ponies?
Does love taste as good as they say?
Do you get lots of it from the ponies?
The six-year class said there was a pony with you, where is it?
That last prompted a chorus of mental agreement. We wanna see the pony!
I chuckled. Pinkie liked visiting the nymphs even more than I did. Unfortunately she had her own life to keep her busy, so she wasn't always physically by my side. I'm sorry, little ones, she is not here today. I will try to bring her with me next time I come.
Can I please, pretty please, touch your mane?
I smiled and settled myself on my stomach in the middle of the room. You may, I said.
I was almost instantly buried in a pile of changeling nymphs. It was rather more rough than a grooming, they were less restrained and more inclined to tug on something to see if it would come off. Thankfully the crack in my chitin was completely healed by now, though I did still have a rather impressive scar there. One of the nymphs crawling over me noticed it. Wow! Did you get this fighting ponies?
No, it wasn't ponies, I said.
Gryphons?
Was it a hydra?
I bet it was a manticore!
I chuckled, a little sadly. No. That was from Chrysalis, the old queen.
Oh. The mood in the room darkened a little bit. Perhaps I shouldn't have told them, but even this young, they would have known if I were lying to them. It is nearly impossible to lie through the hive bond.
One nymph, her curiosity overcoming her reticence, asked what I knew they were all thinking. How come you fought her?
Because she gave me no choice, I told the nymphs. She wanted to kill me, and wouldn't leave me, or the ponies, alone. And because it was best for the hive. She was letting the drones go hungry so that she could send infiltrators to attack me instead of gather food. That wasn't right.
I remember. The teacher was sad. The hive felt hungry. Even under Chrysalis’ sick direction the nymphs themselves always took priority over the hive's adults, so they wouldn't have gone hungry; but they were part of the hive too. I think it's better now, the nymph added. There was a chorus of agreement from the others. She was the same one who had dared to ask why. She seemed quite bright. I made a mental note to see that she was put on the list of nymphs who might become under-queens, if she wasn't already.
That is why I had to do it, so it would be better for everyone.
How come your mane isn't like the teacher's mane? That question, from the nymph who seemed rather obsessed with my mane, changed the mood once more. I smiled and explained the difference between queens and under-queens to the nymph, happy to be on a safer subject.
Several hours later I left the classroom, feeling almost smugly content. I had wanted to find some way to step down as queen, when I'd first taken over the hive. Now I discovered I was glad I hadn't found the chance to. I cared for my fellow changelings. Maybe even loved them. I wanted what was best for them, and it seemed that I was actually capable of taking care of them. I was happy as I had seldom been in my life. I had absolutely everything I'd ever wanted.
And it was all because of one particular pink party pony, who I would be seeing again very soon.
I smiled and took a moment to look out through the eyes of the drone on high watch again, to see where the sun stood. It was not even noon, so I had hours yet to spend before I would need to leave for Pinkie's party.
I decided to go have a look at the fungus farms. As I walked through the corridors towards the vast farming chambers, however, a sudden, strange sensation caught my attention. The hive bond suddenly buzzed with tension, the feeling very much like when Minder had rejoined my small hive with Chrysalis' larger one. This was, however a much stronger tension than that had been. I halted, while all around me drones halted too, confused by the strange sensation. My mind was drawn to a particular drone, and I found myself looking at the familiar streets of Canterlot.
I knew this particular mind well; it was Wildcard, the ambassador. Standing in front of him was a pony, an apparently ordinary unicorn mare. Wildcard's immediate memories told me that just seconds ago she had rather rudely shoulder-checked him while he was walking back to the embassy in Canterlot from having lunch at his favorite cider bar.
The pony's eyes flashed red, and I knew. She was a changeling, from another hive. The strange sensation was that of her hive bond and Wildcard's meeting and refusing to join. Two different hives, each with their own queen, could not become one, but the bonds would still try. The feeling was already fading, though, as my hive rejected hers.
"I would speak to your queen," said the changeling, her voice hard and cold.
May I? I asked Wildcard.
Of course.
"I am here," I said with his voice.
"I speak for the allied hives," she said. "You have broken the Compact. You have revealed us to ponies."
"Queen Chrysalis revealed us to ponies," I said. "She was mad, and she is queen no longer."
"You are mad as well! You live openly among ponies. You tell them our secrets! You spit on the old ways that have kept the changeling race alive for centuries! You will cause doom and destruction to fall upon us all."
"I do the best I can to care for my hive. They are happy and prosperous now."
"They are deluded by a mad queen! You must return to the old ways. You must hide yourselves from ponies."
"To what end? Ponies already know that we exist. What good would pretending we do not accomplish? The cat is out of that particular bag."
The changeling smirked at me. "It can be put back. There are ways."
I didn't like the sound of that at all. "Ways?"
"Ways a true queen should know," she said with a hint of scorn. "But we can teach them to you. You have the ponies' trust now. You can gain access to all three princesses. Cast the spell I shall show you on them and you can wipe their minds clean of all knowledge of us. With their leaders no longer interested, the ponies will forget us soon enough."
I scowled at her, and was aware that Wildcard was cooperating with the scowl; he didn't like that notion any more than I did. "I think not. I would not so abuse their trust in me."
"You should reconsider. If you do not abide by the Compact, your entire hive will be considered outcast. Enemies. Prey, as ponies are."
"I have no wish to make enemies, only to live in peace—with ponies as well as with changelings. The old ways aren't necessarily the best ways. My hive thrives on love given freely, which is far more abundant than stolen love could ever be."
"Your hive is an abomination. I give you one last chance! Clear the memory of changelings from the minds of the pony rulers and return to hiding as a changeling should."
"No," I said flatly. Much as the strange changeling's threats worried me, I was not going to betray Celestia's trust in me. I'd tasted her love and knew it was honest and true. I could not give her betrayal and deceit in return. Even if I had been willing to betray her, I'd meant it when I said the new ways were better. The hive had so few infiltrators now that a return to the old ways might well doom us to starvation. And, above all, returning to the old ways would mean losing Pinkie Pie. That, I could not do.
"Then you and your hive will suffer the consequences," hissed the changeling, her eyes flashing red again. She spun and stalked off down the street, leaving both the ambassador and myself staring after her.