//------------------------------// // The Ponyville Hive // Story: The Last Changeling // by GaPJaxie //------------------------------// Light Step did a lot of radio interviews; she was something of a famous pony. Shortly after the war ended, she was asked to give an interview on her latest avante-garde art installation, The Showmare. It was a return to her roots, graffitied onto the side of an abandoned factory in the industrial district. The whole thing was getting rave reviews, and everypony in Canterlot knew it was the new thing they just had to see. She and the interviewer sat down. The little light went on to say they were live, and the radio pony cleared her throat. “Hello, Light. Thank you for joining us today.” “Hello, everypony,” she said into her microphone. Then she said, “And if we have any changelings listening, I live in the large white house on the north road leading into Ponyville. I have shelter and affection for any creature in need. I’m the sister of Princess Twilight, and she will protect you from anypony who comes after you. If you can make it to Ponyville, you’ll be safe. Flurry Heart can’t get you here.” Then she talked about her art or whatever. The Showmare wasn’t great. When she got back to her house late that evening, she got out the spare blankets and the cot. Double Time told her she should go to sleep, but she decided to stay up instead, and Double stayed with her. That night, two changelings showed up seeking sanctuary. One got the guest bedroom, and one got the cot. The next day, a third arrived, and they had to use the couch cushions to make another bed. The day after that, a group of twenty-two arrived together. They were all that was left of an engineering battalion that had been halfway home when the war ended. Some were still in uniform. By the end of the first month, there were seven thousand changelings camped on Light Step’s lawn. “Hey, Double,” Light gently nudged open the door to their bedroom. “How you feeling?” Double Time didn’t respond. That was not so unusual, since the war ended. She lay in bed in her natural form and stared out the window. “Well, I um… I have something for you. For us, really.” Light pushed the door open the rest of the way. A basket levitated beside her. “Look.” Inside the basket, wrapped in layers of green cloth, was the little face of a baby earth pony colt. He couldn’t have been more than a few months old, and his face still looked squashed in that way that newborns do. He had a pacifier half in and half out of his mouth, but was more curious about what was going on around him. He reached out to Double Time, with his trembling little forehooves. “That’s a child,” Double Time said. “Yeah. A mare left him. She walked up and said, ‘you take creatures that aren’t wanted, right?’ And I thought she meant, you know, bugs. So I said yes. And she gave me him.” Light cleared her throat. “I checked. He’s really a pony.” “Rarity wanted another child, didn’t she? She could adopt him.” “Oh, um…” Light nodded. “She could. But I was actually thinking you and I should finally—” “No,” Double said. Then she got out of bed and walked out. Four years before Cheval left for the Griffonstone Institute of Science, Light had asked Double a question. Light had been in the form of a stallion named Burner, and Double was in the form of a mare named Smoke. And so, as a proper stallion, Light got down on his knees in front of the mare of his dreams. “Marry me, you wonderful creature,” he said. She flew away. The ponies of Ponyville took them in, of course. They were a kind breed. There wasn’t even a discussion. Every house in Ponyville threw open its spare room to a changeling that needed shelter. Twilight quartered nearly a hundred drones in her palace, and Filthy Rich another twenty in his mansion. But even with everypony working together, Ponyville simply did not have anywhere near seven-thousand unused beds. It was a small town, after all. So the construction ponies of Ponyville built new cottages, next to the refugee camp that was forming on Light Step’s lawn. The changelings of the worker caste inspected the new buildings with a wary eye, knocked on them with a hoof, and nibbled on the wood a bit. “Not bad,” they said. Then they piled rocks around the buildings, covered them in resin and spit, and peed on the whole thing to start the hardening process. The buildings that resulted were so solid a rampaging dragon would bounce off the side, and cottages meant to hold two ponies comfortably fit twenty changelings in their pods. For the next set of structures, the ponies of Ponyville skipped the cottages and gave the changelings the wood directly. The refugee camp on Light’s lawn disappeared tent by tent, and in its place, a miniature hive rose. “Double,” Light called, chasing Double Time out into the hall. “Double, come on. Don’t be this way, you…” Double pushed open a hallway window, turned into a pegasus, and flew out into the open air, quickly gaining enough distance to be out of earshot. Not that that stopped Light from shouting, “Bitch!” at Double’s retreating tail. Then the baby started to cry. It took her awhile to deal with that. Some of the changelings in Ponyville were nursery workers. On the day of the final battle, they had fled the burning hive with their children stuffed into backpacks and saddlebags. In total, eighteen grubs and thirty-two nymphs survived the journey. They asked Twilight to inspect them. “Um…” Twilight asked. “Inspect them for what? I don’t know anything about children’s health. Um. For changelings or ponies.” “Overall quality,” one of the changelings explained. A large swarm had gathered outside Twilight’s castle, looking up at her silently. “To determine if they’re good. And correct their parents if their upbringing has been deficient.” “Oh, I can’t.” Twilight blushed and raised a hoof. “I don’t know anything about raising children. I’m kind of a teenager myself.” “But you’re the…” The spokeschangeling cleared her throat. “Princess. The leader. Of the town. You must decide if the children are good.” “I’m sure their parents can decide if their own children are…” Twilight frowned, biting her lip. She looked back at Light and Double for direction. “Are good. Can’t they?” “Of course not,” Double snapped, “Parents love their children. They can’t be objective about them. That’s why in the hive, Amaryllis inspects all the children once a month. Inspected. She lined the little brats up and walked down the line like it was a military review.” “Don’t talk about inspection that way,” the changeling from the mob said. “It’s important the nymphs have an authority figure to look up to.” “Why?” Double asked, buzzing over her way. “Why is that important? What’s going to happen if they don’t have an authority figure in their lives? Mmm? What precisely is going to happen?” She got so close, she and the other changeling were nose to nose. “Do you not understand that it’s over? It’s all over. Your queen is dead. She is gone and the hive is gone and they are never coming back and the sooner you clue into that the better!” “Double, that’s enough,” Twilight snapped. “You don’t have to—” Double flew away. The next morning, all seven-thousand changelings lined up on the outskirts of Ponyville so Twilight could inspect the nymphs. She picked one up, and said that it looked, “Very clever.” For six months, a thousand changelings worked menial jobs in the greater Ponyville area and pooled all the money to send that nymph to a university in Canterlot. They all knew Twilight was only being polite. But it made them feel better. There was work to be done. Light couldn’t sit around the house waiting for Double to come back. So she levitated her basket beside her, and marched out into the hive. It was dark, crowded, confusing, and had a smell that was strongly reminiscent of urine and pollen, but that was apparently how changelings preferred it. Some were in their natural forms and some pretended to be ponies, but all of them politely made way for her. If they treated Twilight like their leader, they treated her like an officer. Some even saluted her as she passed. She was surprised the little one didn’t cry, but the smell and the buzzing of many insectile wings lulled him right to sleep. The first order of the day was resolving a dispute between the hive and some ponies from outside of town. The ponies were seasonal laborers, who came to Ponyville every year as hired hooves to help with the harvest. But that year, they arrived to find themselves displaced by changeling refugees, who didn’t rest and worked for hugs. After some haggling, she paid them a fair wage to help teach the new arrivals more advanced farming skills. It smoothed things over. Next, she had to deal with a group of changelings who were uncomfortable being in their natural forms. They preferred to impersonate ponies, but the ponies of Ponyville had made it clear that nopony’s form was to be mimicked without their consent. And so, Light Step gave her consent, and a dozen copies of her ran out into the world, each wearing a prominent purple pin that said: “Secret Shapeshifter” Finally, she went into Ponyville to run her errands. She had to meet with her sister, send some letters, get more formula for the baby, get her mane cut, and pick up some things. The last item on her list was heading to Bon Bon’s for some candy—that always made her feel better. When she arrived in the shop, she found the counter unstaffed. A faint rustling and thumping was coming from the back room. Light assumed Bon Bon was hard at work. “Hello?” she called, pushing open the door. “Is anypony…” Peering through the doorway, she saw Bon Bon In flagrante with two identical Lyras.  All three were frozen in alarm at the sight of the open door. The pose they were all in was quite complicated. Both Lyras had their hooves in interesting places, and they were doing something with their horns that caused a magical glow under Bon Bon’s tail. It looked fun. Light sighed. “Just to check, are any of you my girlfriend?” “We’re not in a relationship,” one of the Lyra’s snapped. “Oh my gosh,” the other Lyra quickly covered her privates. “Shut the door!” “Aaand, the mood is dead,” Bon Bon said, falling back to the floor. “Thanks, Double. Really.” “Look,” Light said, without closing the door first, “Will you just come home please?” “I don’t have a home. You have a home,” Double said, still using Lyra’s voice. “I sleep in other buildings you know.” “Yes, and you sleep with other ponies. Case in point,” Light gestured. “Shut the door!” the real Lyra yelled. Both Double and Light ignored her. “Double,” Light spoke quickly, “I accepted that more than a decade ago. I’m fine with it, and we planted a garden together. There’s a mug in the cabinet with your initials on it. It is your home. It is our home. Please talk to me.” Double scrambled out the door into the alley behind the shop. Lyra, for her part, remembered she was a unicorn -- and with a blast of telekinesis, slammed the door to the front. Some of the changelings tried to offer Light Step a replacement girlfriend—one who looked just like Double Time, even in her natural form. At first, Light was furious, but then she noticed all the ponies in the group around her were worker caste. None of them, she realized, really understood what a special somepony was. And so she stopped yelling and spent an hour explaining the birds and the bees to creatures that were, in some regards, very much like bees. They didn’t get it. Ponyville was a good town. Nopony minded if Double Time slept around, but when word got out she and Light were on the rocks, she found her comfort food frequently interrupted by good intentions. Nothing ruins the mood like being asked, “But have you really tried to work things out with her?” midway through cropping a bound pony’s flanks. It still took three days for Double to come home. Light didn’t hear her enter. She woke up one morning, and there was Double in her bed. She was still trying to decide what to say, when the baby started crying. “Don’t you dare vanish before I get back,” she said, stumbling out of bed and off to the next room. When the little one had been fed, burped, and changed, Light returned. To her surprise, Double really was still there, curled up on top of the blankets and staring out the window. “You can’t just show up with a foal,” Double said. “You can’t walk in on your partner and give them a child like it was a toy.” “You heard the part where someone abandoned him on my doorstep right?” Light grumbled as she slid back into bed. “I’d give him to the nursery workers, but some of them are still unclear on the fact that ponies can’t eat all their food for the week in one enormous meal.” “Give him to somepony who can take care of him then.” “We can take care of him.” Light wrapped her legs around Double, holding her from behind. “Don’t you want to create something together?” “We do. We create art. You paint and I’m your muse.” Double shifted in bed, like she couldn’t get comfortable. “What do you do is beautiful. Looking at it… it makes me feel better.” “I’m not going to be remembered as an artist. Decades of art school and painting and gallery shows, and if history remembers me, it’s going to be as the mare who saved seven-thousand changelings.” She kissed the back of Double’s head. “It’s a good legacy.” “I’m sorry. But you’re wrong.” Double gripped Light’s hoof with her own. “You’re a genius, Light. Ponies will be looking at your art for centuries. Little art students are going to bitch at each other about trying to rip your style, just like we did at that age. But all this?” She gestured out the window at the hive beyond. “In fifty years, this is going to be ruins.” Double’s wings buzzed, tapping against her shell. It made a sound like falling rain. “Nopony will ever want to live in them, or maintain them. But changeling buildings are… are very strong. They’ll stand for centuries. The ruins will last long than we ever will. Tourists will come to Ponyville and take pictures of these weird, mystic-looking structures full of dust and shed carapaces. And there’s going to be a little plaque with your name on it, saying that you did this during your blue period.” “I wish I understood the hold Amaryllis has on you.” Light let out a breath, and smiled a sad smile. “I don’t know if it’s biological, or magic, or how you were raised, but no matter how many times ponies forgive you, no matter how many good things you do or build, you always think of yourself as Double Time, Changeling Infiltrator. Like the last twenty years were playing pretend, and she’s the real you. Like any day you’re going to go back to being that creature.” “It’d be pretty impressive if she had a hold on me at this point, seeing as how she’s dead.” “I don’t know if it’s impressive. But she does.” Light drew in a breath and squeezed Double again. “You still think she is the hive. That without her it’s all over.” “My species is going to go extinct. I’m not sure how much more over it can be than that.” “I…” Light hesitated. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what…” She stumbled over her words. “Your legacy isn’t just the creatures that Queen Amaryllis squeezed out of her thighs. That’s how you think of it. You came from her and will one day return to her, and your legacy is the next generation she creates. And that’s crap. Your legacy is the ponies you influence and who care about you and the mark you leave on the world.” Light sniffled. “And if there are parts of the hive you think are worth preserving, you can… you can teach. You’re a drone, remember? You couldn’t breed children before and you can’t breed them now. But you can still raise them. You can still create something in this world that’s a worthy legacy. And…” She started to choke up, managing a weak: “And fuck you for thinking that my art matters more than this. How much am I going to have to love you before you stop thinking of yourself as an expendable pawn? They matter and you matter.” For a long time, there was silence between them. “I don’t have a…” Double spoke slowly. “Pair bonding instinct. You’re really not my girlfriend, Light. You’re not. I don’t feel that.” “But you love me,” Light said. “I know you love me.” “I love other ponies too.” “Yeah, I know, and I don’t care.” Light squeezed her eyes shut. “I know you’re never going to be my little pony wife. You’re not going to dote on foals and coo over grandkids and carry pictures of them around because they’re just so cute. But you’re the creature I’ve chosen as the love of my life, and I can’t imagine raising a foal with anyone else.” “Our relationship isn’t fair. It never was. I use you. You love me and only me, and stay up late to see if I’ll come home. I run off on you when the conversation gets boring.” “Yup. You can be kind of manipulative. And do you think I’m so stupid I haven’t noticed that in the last twenty years?” Light stiffened her tone. “Or do you think I’m still the stupid, emotional filly you met in college who can’t make her own decisions?” “I think I’m a monster, and you deserve better.” “Well you’re wrong.” She tightened her grip around Double. “And I’m keeping him. Because I don’t think you will run off. I think you’re better than you believe you are. I think this is when you admit that you…” She couldn’t finish. Her voice cracked, and she lapsed into silence. In the next room, the baby started to cry again. “I’ll… I’ll…” Light stumbled out of bed. “I need to go.” Before she made it to the hallway door, Double asked: “What’s his name?” “He doesn’t have one yet.” Light rubbed her eyes. “But, it should be something important to both of us. So. I was thinking of naming him after his uncle. Shining Armor.” “No. It’s a good idea, but Shining hasn’t been dead long enough to reuse his name like that. It would be disrespectful.” Double thought it over for a moment. “Gallant.” “I like ‘Gallant,’” Light said. The baby’s crying intensified. “I gotta go.” When she returned, Double was still there. Gallant. Like all good pony names, it had layers of meaning. It meant one who is brave and heroic, which he certainly was. He got that from Light’s side of the family. But in old Equestrian, it referred to a stallion with many mare friends, and he was certainly that too. He got it from Double, everypony said. Ponyville loved to tell stories of his adventures. He was Daring Do for a new generation, punching out griffons and escaping with a beautiful mare. He even saved Equestria, once. There was a communist superweapon in a volcano base and everything. It was a big deal, at the time. Of course, by the time he turned forty-five, his adventuring days were done. His mane had turned grey, his interests mundane, and he spent a little more time at home. Like most children of the Ponyville Hive, he’d developed a preference for small spaces and confusing architecture. One day, while sitting in what used to be Light’s study, he flipped open the newspaper. “CHANGELING PRINCESS CHEVAL SIGHTED IN CRYSTAL EMPIRE,” the headline read. There were pictures. He got up, walked over to the bookshelf, and from it lifted a special wooden box. It was covered in dust. The last time he’d touched it, his mothers had been alive. Opening it revealed a collection of books, scrolls, and magical items. On top of all of them was a pair of letters, neatly addressed to the last changeling princess. He booked his tickets to the Crystal Empire that afternoon.