The brutalized land trembles under the stomping hooves of the changelings.
From the walls of upper Canterlot, Two can see spires of green goo of purpose unknown to her rising from the landscape. In the further distance, there are clouds of smoke hanging in the sky from vast stretches of burning land and the charred skeletons of villages. Hundreds of thousands of changelings are walking in ranks, completely silent to the outside world, but Two can sense echoes of orders streaming through a hive mind million times more expansive than anything she’s familiar with, the tsunami of voices almost strong enough to rob her of all individuality and make her a mindless thrall to the commands.
A golden flash lights the smoldering grassland far down, as a small group of either extremely brave or downright suicidal ponies flank a square formation of marching changelings from a secret route inside the mountain. The shockwave from the explosion scatters tens of changelings around and incinerates the closest ones, but even a magical attack like that is like spitting against a forest fire. Many more bursts of light and flame follow, burning changeling after changeling as the ranks of the seemingly infinite black army close around the pony group and swallow them. Two hears the hive mind report - nearly two hundred dead changelings, but a successful capture of three unicorn stallions, one earthpony stallion, one unicorn mare, and one earthpony mare. Strong ones, all of them. They will serve to breed and feed far more changelings than they killed. Soon, the nearest drones are dragging a set of cocoons towards the green spires.
“How?” asks Two, her mental voice unheard. She turns her head to look away from the sight of marching changeling armies making her weak at the knees, but she finds no respite.
She’s still on the walls of upper Canterlot. The city behind her, however, is as far from any festival as one can imagine… other than endless changeling feast.
A spire made of green goo and remnants of crumbling masonry like those far down towers over the nearby streets, and this close Two can see its intricate structure of ledges allowing for movement between ponies set in its walls, bloated with eggs or with genitals sticking out for a quick refill of lust by any needy changeling. As a mare on the second level screams, flow of eggs easily slips out of her and into a gathering indentation underneath, signalling that she’s been through mass birth many times before. A changeling breeder with massive equipment flies over immediately, and as a drone gathers the eggs, he starts pumping a new batch into the mare who only whimpers, her glassy eyes unblinking and unseeing. She’s only one of many. Only moments later, the eggs hatch, and instead of larvae, there are changeling warriors already crawling out of those, unsteady at first but soon ready to fight with bloodthirsty single-mindedness.
Two, or what’s left of her in the sea of hungry voices, senses the minds of the fresh batch of changelings… or what constitutes a changeling only by the barest definition. Those aren’t minds by any measure she knows, only sets of instructions - fight, capture, spread. No individuality, no advanced intelligence, only… only… they are only tools. Tools, empty bodies to storm the walls of the last bastion of ponykind, the perfect way to make warriors without wasting love on developing their brains.
“Like Three and dad were supposed to be…”
With those whispered words, there is no Two anymore, only information flowing from all sides. The fresh braindead batch of warriors flies eastward to crumbling walls separating the Canterlot castle proper from the rest of the city. There are changelings massing on the stomped lawns covered in shattered chitin, crunching and devouring the dead and dying for any remnant of love in their physical bodies. Without thinking, literally, the newborn warriors from all birthing spires around the city storm the castle walls, and hit an invisible barrier which grinds them into dust. Few of the accidentally more developed ones can feel fear, and as they turn to flee, bolts of fire, lighting, and colored lights from various slots in the castle walls deliver swift and painful death to every single one of them.
The united ranks standing on the castle lawns but still out of range of the pony defenders shift nervously. Not exactly from the death of the fresh wave, that’s a common sight these days, more from a single tall female changeling with teal mane and wearing a green plate armor standing in front of them.
She looks down at the male infiltrator by her side, her second-in-command, and snarls.
“They sealed all entrances, your Majesty. We’ve managed to track-urk?!” the infiltrator levitates up, green glow around his neck crushing his chitin.
The queen opens her mouth, and rips all energy at once from the hive’s number One, making the infiltrator scream in agony. She throws him towards the castle, and growls:
“Go. Show them how it’s done.”
“But your Majesty-” his mouth closes on its own, biting his tongue off. His mind takes a back seat to the queen’s control, and his legs make him stride towards the castle, maw bleeding but head raised.
Even with most of his power drained by the queen, he still deflects a bolt of lightning coming from the walls, and manages to get to the barrier. As he jams his horn into it, the slow grinding begins. Queen’s control doesn’t let him scream until most of his skull is gone and his body keeps being sucked further in towards the grinding magic.
With a bloodthirsty grin, the queen turns to the lined up changelings led by who are supposed to be her best, her generals, potential queens…
...FAILURES, ALL OF THEM!
“Figure something out, or you’re next!” she barks at them, and leaves. The changelings let out a collective sigh of relief as they turns their heads to their respective generals.
A light blue-maned warrior, humongous even for a changeling, exchanges glances with a green, much smaller infiltrator with long fangs protruding from her mouth when the queen is out of earshot. The blue one is Cryo, her carapace scarred and mane charred in places. However, her expression isn’t the usual slightly dazed one, but the sharp, serious face of someone who has seen the future and didn’t like it one bit.
“Is it time?” asks Moss, not daring to communicate via hive mind in fear of the conversation being tracked, “Chrysalis looked more pissed off than she usually is.”
“Yes, it’s time, unless you want to end up like One. That’s what happens when an infiltrator wants to lead a war on her own,” says Cryo, making Moss hiss angrily at her, “Oh shut up, I don’t tell you how to do infiltrating either, so Chrysalis should have let a real warrior lead the war effort. Vulcan is with us, and all other generals are on a… similar wavelength.”
“What do you mean by similar?”
“They want to leave too, but I doubt they will be… peaceful about it. My infiltrators say they will want to escape with as much resources as they can, which means they will devour anyone weaker and vulnerable on the way.”
“Do you want to... cooperate during the escape?” offers Moss, “It would make getting away easier.”
“There can be only one queen in a hive,” Cryo shakes her head, “Not worrying about being attacked by your or Vulcan’s hives is more than enough.”
“And Chrysalis?”
“That idiot will draw forces from all over Equestria to stop us, which Celestia will use to regain control of Canterlot,” Cryo shakes her head, “We could have taken the castle, but Chrysalis fucked everything up...”
“What happened?” Moss tilts her head, “I was busy chasing survivors in the White Tail woods when the order to gather everyone in Canterlot arrived.”
“All we had to do was group up, siege the castle, and tire them out. It could take months, but it would have worked. Chrysalis, though, thought that because we took Canterlot, the castle would follow soon, and she broke the alliance with the zebras prematurely. Since we lost so many changelings already, she had to pull forces from Zebrica, and a pretty pissed off striped army is landing in the south. All we needed was time, and that’s the only thing we don’t have thanks to her. That’s why she’s resorting to her new… invention. Creating these pseudo-changelings… mindless abominations. Fucking monster.”
Moss facehoofs, and Cryo grins without any joy in it.
“That’s not all,” the warrior queen continues, “News from the east is that the griffons did what we never thought they were capable of - they united and switched from guerilla warfare to open march on our outposts. Shadowstep’s campaign has been defeated, and the last information I have is that they chased her into the northern deserts and starved her to death. Without that traditional loyalist, Chrysalis is alone, and griffons are coming with their cannons, bombs, and technology. We’ve united the world against us, and if we want to survive we need to hide.”
“It’s all breaking down...” Moss breathes out, “Where do you intend to go?”
Cryo shrugs.
“Probably the north, you know, Cryo and all. I’m not going to tell you more for obvious reasons, and I’m not going to ask you either. Maybe we’ll meet again in better times for us changelings, maybe not.”
Without another word, Cryo leaves and seeks out her One, the number Sixty-eight of the whole changeling empire. Contrary to the warrior queen, her best subordinate is a male infiltrator. Cryo is fully aware of the value of varied skill set.
“Gather at most five hundred of my best, warriors, infiltrators, drones,” orders the sapphire queen, “We’re leaving. No hive mind communication, word of mouth only. If we get found out too early, we’re all dead.”
“Don’t take it as insubordination, my queen, but why not assemble everyone and fight our way out?” he asks.
“Moss and Vulcan will take everyone, and so will other generals. Such mass exodus will immediately draw Chrysalis’ attention, and she’ll seek to make an example of them instead of focusing on the ponies. If she finds out most of my hive is still in Canterlot, she’ll think we’re either dealing with the rebels or that we are far too small group to bother with,” Cryo raises her foreleg, “Yes, I know this means sending thousands of my changelings to their deaths. Do it.”
One nods, and gallops off.
Several hours later, Cryo’s hive is galloping west, the eyes of her rear guard locked on Canterlot mountain slowly getting smaller. Chrysalis’ orders ring through the hive mind, and infinite pain of tens of thousands of changelings slaughtering each other is making even her best warriors weak.
Suddenly, Chrysalis’ voice enhanced by magic booms through the land:
“I WILL DESTROY YOU, TRAITORS! I WILL DEVOUR YOUR MINDS AND FLAY YOUR CARAPACES PIECE BY PIECE! NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES!”
“Yep, scream that for the whole wide world to hear, Chrysalis,” Cryo smirks, “Especially to the pissed off alicorn in the castle waiting for any sign of your weakness. Infiltrators, seriously...”
Two gazes from the city walls, tears streaming from her eyes at the massacre all around her. Finally, it all becomes too much. Her knees buckle, and she keels over into the depth.
“Careful, little beard,” a huge foreleg catches her before she can drop down a whole mountain.
“Whuh- wha- why…?” Two breathes out, “You remembered something!”
“Huh?” Cryo tilts her head, “Oh yes, I did! We were told to go to the castle.”
“No, I mean… I mean… changelings all over Canterlot, fighting each other. You and other queens left furious Chrysalis here alone,” she tries to make sense of the vision.
Cryo blinks.
“My head itches...”
Two, legs still shaking, flies onto Cryo’s back, adjusts the queen’s hat, and scratches her head under the tight rim. Cryo’s tongue lolls out.
“Better?” Two forces a smile. It was the past, it must have been. Equestria is different now, changelings are welcome… or at least tolerated…
...but Chrysalis is still the queen.
I will destroy you no matter how long it takes!
Kinda puts the ‘bad mom’ as Three calls her into perspective. Two grits her teeth, her stomach swimming.
***
“BOSS, IT’S MINI-STOMPY!” Three immediately flies off so fast that he actually makes One blink.
Two and Cryo caught up to us some ten minutes ago, and now we’re about to enter the castle grounds separated by a wall from the rest of the city. By the sides of the only entrance, an open gilded gate, stand not only a pair of Royal Guards, but also a trio of Gem, a brown earthpony mare with darker brown mane, and a pony made of delicate metalwork, two bright blue circles in his otherwise pitch black eyes locked on Three buzzing around and poking him.
“Do you have lasers?” Three’s smiling from ear to ear, “Flamethrowers? Big buzzing energy shields? Are you a real pony in a metal body, or a full mechanical pony? Is your name Stompy junior- wait no, you’re small so you wouldn’t be so loud so… Clanky, Scratchy, Clippy-Cloppy?”
The chocolate mare next to the machine pony is doing her best not to burst out laughing at Three’s curiosity.
“My name is Bucket,” answers the machine in a slightly distorted voice, “Your curiosity regarding technology is rather unusual for a changeling.”
“Three, cool down a little. Ponies might get curious who Stompy is, and we’re not supposed to talk about the dwarves, remember?” I warn him.
“Oops. Sorry, boss.”
“My friend Six loves gadgets,” Three lands in front of Bucket, “He’d be ecstatic to see someone like you. Or something? How do I some- you?”
“I prefer someone,” Bucket smiles. His metalwork is incredibly more delicate than Stompy’s, so he likely isn’t a war tank or something, rather the imitation of a pony. However, the question regarding where ponies got a design like him comes to mind. Still, it’s not our priority to know.
“Ahem,” Gem clears her throat, “Dawn, Bucket, this is my father,” she points her hoof at me.
“Greetings, your Majesty,” the mare… Dawn takes a deep bow, and so does the robot. He’s really as flexible as a pony from what I can see.
“Who? Me?” I lean away. One smacks the back of my head, “Oh right, right. Sorry, I’m not used to titles, really. Everyone just calls me boss.”
“I’d prefer your Majesty,” Dawn chuckles, rising back up, “If I called you boss in front of anypony in charge, I’d get fired immediately… probably from a cannon into the sun.”
“We are here to show you to your rooms,” Bucket goes straight to business, “We will also answer any questions you might have.”
We really don’t need a tour of the castle, considering Gem knows her way around the public areas of the place, and we simply copy the map from her head.
“Let’s head off to where we’ll be sleeping first. Lead the way,” I nod at Bucket who turns around and goes through the gate.
The Canterlot castle gate is connected to this gateway via a paved white road, and there are lawns everywhere else. On the right lawn there are Royal Guards currently engaged in what looks like sparring and physical exercises, and the left lawn seems to be more on the decorative side since I can see a wall of greenery slightly taller than Cryo with an entrance in its center.
“Boss...” Three pokes me, “Boss, boss, boss, boss...”
“Shush, Three, I know.”
“Mind if I ask where you come from, Bucket?” I say out loud, “I mean, who built you?”
“Princess Twilight Sparkle built me as her… personal assistant-”
“A clopbot,” mutters Dawn, which makes One snort immediately, and Eleven runs by, taking a good look at Bucket’s underbelly. There doesn’t seem to be anything between his hind legs, though.
Bucket glances at the small changelings swarming around him.
“I don’t wear such equipment in public unless asked,” explains Bucket, “It serves no purpose.”
“Makes sense,” I shrug.
“Anyway,” Bucket continues, “Twilight Sparkle built me based on certain currently classified designs as her… intimate personal assistant, although I’ve been used that way by her very rarely. As for your little changeling’s question, I’m not a pony in a mechanical body, I am an artificial intelligence learning about the world.”
Classified designs… some unearthed dwarven technology? Granite did say that their ancestors had outposts and cities all under the world before the great war.
“Ponyficial,” adds Dawn. Bucket sighs, which comes out as a soft, distorted buzz.
“Princess Twilight insists on calling me a ponyficial intelligence as a symbol that she came up with it,” says the robot, “It makes no sense.”
We enter the castle, and I look around. The castle is white, mostly, with red carpeting on the floor. Various flowers hang overhead in gold-foiled metal pots, the load-bearing columns are built into the walls, showing only as rounder, evenly distributed vertical lines. Door frames are reinforced, and if the building material are granite slabs which it feels like-
I stop my drone instincts from taking over. For now, I don’t need to know the exact density of every single part of every single wall.
Anyway, the castle is certainly busy, with servants rushing around, guards patrolling the hallways in pairs, and various pony and non-pony guests everywhere.
The stained glass windows are pretty, although they show views and ponies I don’t recognize whatsoever.
Wait, no, I spoke too soon. There’s one with a bunch of changelings exploding out of the castle windows along with a rather good likeness of Chrysalis screaming in horror and flailing her legs. I snicker, which makes Bucket turn his head instantly.
“The end of the invasion of Canterlot,” he says, “I… don’t know how you feel about it, but if it bothers you, we can have the window covered for the duration of the summit, maybe?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I can’t stop grinning, “In fact, can I get a poster of Chrysalis’ face from that one?”
“Who else is attending the summit?” asks One in a raised voice, trying to slip on her diplomatic horseshoes.
“Oh come on, it would look hilarious on Five’s practice targets back home.”
“I can’t argue with that, but they don’t need to know,” despite no one in the real world being able to hear us, she still hisses at me.
“You’ll get to meet all representatives on tomorrow’s mixer,” says Dawn, “But it’s the usual group. Prince Rutherford for the yaks, warlord Darkhorn representing the minotaurs, princesses Celestia or Luna for us, obviously, queen Novo for the hippogriffs. She’s fairly new, actually. Steward Vargaz for the Griffon Empire… I don’t know the zebra, diamond dog, or neighpon delegates,” she claps her hooves together, “And dragon lord Ember for the, well, dragons. Did I miss anyone?”
“Yes,” says Bucket without adding anything, which earns him a stink eye from Dawn.
“Smartass...” she mutters, but brightens up immediately, “Gem- I mean miss Gem said four rooms would suffice for you and your entourage, your Majesty, so here we are, although there’s quite a lot of you, to be honest. The first four guest rooms in this hall are reserved for you, and you’re next to the zebra delegates. Is there anything else we can help you with?”
“Four?” I ask.
“You and mom, Three and Eleven, Two and Cryo, one for me or just in case?” Gem points it out, “I’m pretty sure you’re all be sleeping on one big pile anyway.”
“Not exactly,” Two nudges silent Cryo looking around.
“Not now, thank you,” I nod at the duo, “I believe our lodgings will be alright like this. Although if we need anything, who do we ask?”
“Any servant or a guard, really,” replies Dawn, “They should point you in the right direction or do what you want.”
“And is there anywhere we’re not supposed to go?” Two adds her two bits to the conversation, “It’s in our nature to explore.”
“Thaaat might be a little iffy,” Dawn clicks her lips, “I’d assume it would be a bad idea to go barging into any rooms, really. Castle grounds are okay including the workshop, barracks, garden maze, and everything else, though.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Two nods, “Thank you.”
Bucket and Dawn bow again as Gem ushers me and One into the first room. It’s… frankly quite similar to our room in Brauheim - a bed for two adorned with carvings, two wardrobes, one large window, a work desk with full stationery, everything woody and goldy.
Kinda boring. No green goop in sight.
A quick check on Two and Three?
Same rooms, only with two beds instead of a single big one.
“Hey, mom, dad?” Gem sits down on the bed, putting her forelegs together, twiddling her hooves nervously, and looking at the carpet, “I called you here this early because… there’s something I’d like to do. There’s someone I want you two to meet.”
“Hmmm?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Mind meeting me outside?” she gives us a hopeful look, “The garden maze should be empty, and there’s a place where we can sit down in its center.”
“Sure, should we take someone else with us?” I ask visibly relieved Gem.
“No nonono, just the two of you,” she shakes her head, “It’s nothing important- I mean it is, but- you’ll see.”
“Okay, we’ll be there in few minutes,” I nod, and she rushes off.
“What do you think that’s about?” asks One, “Summit stuff?”
“I doubt that,” I walk over to the window, and open it, letting the warm but fresh air in, “I never thought I’d say that, but when we’re back home, I should get out more. The cold underground is great, but a change of scenery does work wonders.”
“Told you you should go hunting winter wolves with me sometimes,” One gives me a smug wink.
“Next time I’ll take that offer, but we’re not killing them.”
“Sure, I can settle for a good concussion,” she shrugs, “Anyway, we should go meet Gem.”
“Definitely,” I reach for the door handle, and then stop, “This way will be faster,” I nod to the window.
We fly outside, and after a quick flight around the castle while being cautiously observed by Royal Guard pegasi, we spot the garden maze which was the green wall I saw earlier, and land in its center. There’s a clearing there with a pond and several benches made of white marble. The tall shrubbery makes the place shady and pleasant even on this hot day.
In about ten minutes, we hear soft hoofsteps approaching through the maze. A quick mental scan reveals one of the arrivals as Gem, but she’s blocking my access to her senses, so I can’t take a look at who is with her. She’s worried, though, that much I can feel, and same goes for One who cautiously grows a hidden blade on the back of her foreleg.
Gem enters the clearing first, followed by a brown-maned, grey pegasus stallion holding his wing pressed tightly against a grey-maned changeling mare of stature similar to One wearing a silky, silvery blindfold.
I feel a soft mental prod.
“Now here’s a mind I haven’t felt in a looooong time,” the changeling grins, “The punch bug one, not the royal one. Speaking of royals, how many assassins did Chrysalis send after you? I offed three, and I’m blind, although the last one killed himself when he tried to gloat for ten minutes and I just didn’t give a fuck.”
“Well I’ll be...” One smirks, “Sixteen?”
“Half-hearted Fury, as my beloved breeder calls me these days,” she nudges the pegasus’ neck, “What rank did you manage to chew your way to in the end? Three, four?”
“Considering what I had to corpsify in the service of my penetrating paramour, about negative two hundred. Buuut, since I kicked the ass of previous One even when she ascended into a succubus, I’m One now. Both under my king, and technically under Chrysalis.”
Gem clears her throat.
“Well, I didn’t know you knew each other, but mom, dad… here are my guardians - Half-hearted Fury and Common Crest. I asked them to come from Riverside to meet you.”
“I hear you’ve done a great job taking care of my daughter in her time of need,” I stand up and shake hooves with Crest.
“Pleased to meet you, your Majesty,” says the pegasus before guiding Fury’s hoof to mine to shake.
“Same here, though I wouldn’t miss the making of Canterlot’s most prominent drug dealer for no amount of dragon dicks,” she says, “Sorry for talking to One first, but I prefer making peace with the changeling who can kick me so hard I wouldn’t need a train ticket back home to Redneckville. I would bow, but I tend to keel over.”
Crest sighs.
“Riverside, honey.”
“That’s what I said,” she shrugs.
“As quite often, it falls to me to apologize for my wife, your Majesty,” Crest sighs, “She considers causing an international diplomatic incident an interesting passtime.”
I wave my hoof dismissively, and point at the bench next to the one One is sitting on.
“I started as a drone, and got here mostly with an amount of luck that will doubtlessly get balanced at some point by few decades of something horrible,” I shrug, sitting down to One again.
“Just decades?” One snickers, “Every time you get lucky with me, it’s six months of karmic debt to pay.”
“Heh, and here I thought my wife had a sharp tongue,” Crest strokes Fury’s mane with his wing.
I can’t help laughing out loud.
“Mister Crest, I’ve got two of these. I have yet to decide whether I’m lucky or cursed.”
“Oh, who’s the lucky side-chick that gets to bang a changeling king as well as his One?” Fury’s blindfold shifts as she raises an eyebrow.
“The previous One of Chrysalis’ hive who is now a succubus,” One shoots immediately.
“Is his dick made of love, cocaine, and candy?!” Fury yells out loud, “Crest. I want to change my celebrity crush!”
“Touch him, and being blind will be the last of your problems,” One’s threat has no hostility behind it, “Get your own!”
“I have my own!” objects Fury, “But he gets tired too easily.”
“Hey, this guy took a lot of training too!” One points at me, “He started as a drone, and the first time I wanted to bang him I had to lock us both up in a cellar. He lasted all of ten seconds, not that I let him go afterwards. I’m glad I did that anyway, since, you know, Gem happened.”
“Whaaaaaat?!” Fury stands up with Crest steadying her, and follows her ears to our bench. Then she pokes me as if I wasn’t a king, “Scootch over.”
I mean…
A little respect…?
I stand up and let Fury sit next to One. Crest and I take the other bench along with happily smiling Gem between us while they keep reminiscing about how things were back in the hive.
“Dad,” Gem nudges me, “I was curious, do you think it would be possible to cure Fury’s eyes?”
“Do you know what’s wrong with them?” I ask, “I mean, I certainly can’t do it, but I could give her enough of a love boost for her to regenerate them from scratch.”
Gem frowns.
“I… think she has love aplenty,” Gem leans against Crest’s shoulder, “She just doesn’t have enough control over her body to fix it. At least that’s my guess.”
“I can have a look at her, no problem, but it would be a lot better if Comfort was here.”
“Yeah, do that,” I hear One’s approval.
“I’ll need an access to her head. I’d prefer not forcing anything.”
“Hey, Fury,” One interrupts their chat, “Let the boss into your head, will you? I’d do that myself, but I’m not too subtle. You could end up with an actual new face hole.”
“Heh, could spice up my and Crest’s sex life. What for?” she turns her head around, “I mean, no big deal, it’s just a bit dusty in there. I haven’t used hive communication since the invasion,” she taps her short horn, “Does it even still work?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Ah?!” Fury shakes her head, “Okay, that took me by surprise.”
“Dad is talking to Fury through her changeling mind link,” Gem quietly explains what’s going on to Crest.
Fury frowns in concentration.
“Testing… testing… one, two, three...”
“Heya, Fury!” Gem joins our experiments.
“You know, why haven’t we used this before?” ponders Fury, “We could have messed with Crest SO HARD!”
“Calm down, please,” I extend my control over Fury’s body, and allow One to analyze what’s going on. A warrior would know how a warrior’s body works.
“Gimme a second...” One mumbles to herself, “I see...”
“I don’t!” laughs Fury.
“Shut up or I’ll have you grow three extra legs,” One shoots her down, “So it’s like this… she’s been blind for too long and her natural memory is of her already being blind.”
“How is helping her different from me forcing you to shapeshift?” I ask.
“If it was Comfort doing it, it wouldn’t be. You could sort of… graft my eyes on her, or yours, or Gem’s really. I don’t know whether you have enough control to do it.”
One? Let’s leave it like this so that no one can hear us.
She softly nods my way, quiet both physically and mentally.
Good. I don’t know when Comfort will be back, nor whether we’ll have time during the summit, or how long Crest and Fury can stay here before going home. Imagine the look on Gem’s face if we gave Fury her sight back.
One smiles.
I’ll take complete control of Fury. You’re me. Change your eyes.
I feel Fury’s bout of panic, but she doesn’t have enough mental power to resist me, not that she’s trying too hard anyway. Synchronizing our breathing, I take it slow until her body is mine. One shapeshifts “herself”.
As I release my control and withdraw from Fury with utmost care, I open my own eyes, only to see Fury rip off her blindfold and blink in the daylight. Her jaw drops, and so does Crest’s as he slowly realizes what happened.
“You’re not messing with me again, Fury, are you?” he breathes out.
Gem is beaming like crazy with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Chrysalis’ anatomically incorrect crotchtits, you look SO PLAIN, CREST!” she starts laughing like a madpony, “Common, my ass! The commonest.”
“Fury?” One grabs Fury’s shoulder, but the changeling shakes her hoof off and stumbles towards the pegasus. “You mustn’t shapeshift no matter what or it might come back on accident. Your memory is unstable, and those are actually my eyes-”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she mutters absent-mindedly as she grabs Crest’s face into her hooves, squishes his cheeks, and then she pulls him into a prench kiss, not closing her eyes for a second, and looking into his.
I sit down to One, and she leans against me.
“You know...” One whispers to my ear, “even if we end up pissing off every single bigwig on this summit to the point of war… it was worth coming here.”
Gem hugs Fury and Crest when they finally stop kissing.
“One hundred percent.”
***
Aaaaah! I’M SO NERVOUS!
To explain, it’s tomorrow, well, today. I mean…
I can barely think!
Breathe, breathe!
Okay, let’s start over.
Yesterday was awesome, what with the trip through Canterlot, and meeting Gem’s guardians. Even the guest room beds were comfortable, although we ended up using only two rooms because Three wanted to sleep with me and One, and Eleven didn’t want to sleep alone, if it’s even possible for him, so he piled on Two and Cryo who didn’t mind in the slightest. Today, though, is a new and horrifying day, because it’s the first day of the summit, and I have no idea what to do or where to even start wondering about what to do.
Thankfully, I can reach Gem’s mind from here, because she remained with Common Crest and Half-hearted Fury yesterday long after we left. As things turned out, the free room in the castle had its use after all, heh, so they didn’t have to go to a hotel in the city.
“Calm down, dad,” Gem feels me mentally poking around randomly.
“I don’t know what to dooooo!”
“Don’t worry too much. You won’t be the only first timer there, I suppose,” she chuckles, “In fact, I’m pretty sure that you have more experience debating random minutia than half of the attendance.”
Huh. I mean… maybe? Now that I’m not trembling after hearing a friendly voice, I need to remind myself that I’ve been doing this daily for the past two years, or something similar enough.
“That might be the case, but unlike in Brauheim, I doubt I can take a nap during the boring parts that don’t concern me in the slightest,” I’m still panicking, but my erratic breathing is slowing down already.
“I can buy those glasses with eyes painted on for you, if you want,” Gem laughs.
“Har har,” I pout, “When does the summit start anyway?”
“The guards will come to get you-”
“A sentence which has never ever resulted in soiled pants.”
“-Oh shush. From what I know, princess Luna actually likes us a lot, so she’ll offer a helping hoof if needed.”
“Yes, ponies whom we’ve mind-controlled at some point in time tend to sincerely mean that...”
“Come on, that’s just panic talking.”
“I know, I know...” I breathe out.
“Good. Now, the morning mixer will start in two hours. It’s a semi-formal event for the delegates to get to know each other, and since the zebras always send new representatives because of some coup or other power struggle, everyone will be trying to get to know them. Oh, and the dragons have a new ruler too, so everyone will be more interested in them than in us. We’re kinda insignificant really.”
“Thank holes.”
“The actual summit will start later in the afternoon,” she finishes.
“How do you know that much anyway?”
“I just asked Bright Star. He and Ten arrived last evening from Manehattan. There are always some paladins keeping an eye on the proceedings.”
“Panic returns in three… two… one...”
“You know, dad...” she pauses.
“Ummm yes? There’s something horrible you failed to tell me, isn’t there?”
“Dad, STOP,” her voice grows stern, “and grow a spine!”
Okay, I’m not sure what to say to that.
“We have an exoskeleton, Gem.”
“We used to be ponies, so we have both. Well, most of us do!” she says meaningfully, then realizes what just left her mouth, “Sorry, dad...”
“Am I really that bad…?” aaand the bad mood comes back, although for a completely different reason, “One?”
The long silence tells me more than anything she could say, but what she adds doesn’t help:
“Well, honey… remember when we met Chrysalis in the Crystal Empire when Three stole the Crystal Heart? You folded harder than broken deck chair.”
I growl. Do they think it was easy to avoid pissing off everyone and not repeat the fate Chrysalis brought on us?
“Good, now channel that anger into something useful,” One clearly isn’t impressed.
Say what you want. I will do it my way. If it means bending when I have to and looking weak and soft in order to make sure you can live a life Three or I never supposed to have, then so be it. Other than One, none of them would have lived more than few months at best, and even she ended dying alone in a forest, ripped to pieces by her kind.
“Honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then HOW did you mean it?”
“That sometimes you have to appear strong in order to avoid a war. The illusion of power can be as important as the ability to win a battle. Imagine a hypothetical war scenario. If you look strong during the summit without being arrogant and stupid then no one will attack us. If you appear weak and vulnerable, they will attack us and while we can kick ass harder than anyone, guess which scenario leaves us more at peace? I’m not saying that anyone on the summit will be unfriendly in reality, it’s just a hypothetical to make sure you get the idea.”
Gritting my teeth, I leave our guest room on my own. Three is already gone, and One is lying on her back with her eyes closed. I don’t know how I look, but considering that any castle staff quickly hug the wall as I pass by, it can’t be pretty.
“Gem, how many can I take with me to the summit?”
“There isn’t a limit, but I’d advise against taking everyone,” she replies carefully.
“And the mixer?”
“Same thing.”
“You, One, Cryo, and Two will attend the mixer with me. If we want the perception of power, then who better than a queen who kicked Chrysalis in the nuts and almost won the siege of Canterlot.”
“That might be a little too hostile-” objects Gem.
“That’s an order.”
I cut all connections to myself. Of course, it doesn’t work for One, but she gets the idea and leaves me alone as I wander through the castle, not sure where to but one hundred percent certain I want to be left alone for some time.
***
“Woooow, there’s a pool in this one! I wonder who it belongs to.”
Three is lazily hovering by the castle wall, checking out a particular window while trying to look as inconspicuous as his neon pink zebro allows. Obviously, this has left him with a pair of Royal Guard pegasi circling above with another one watching him from the roof. The second reason for the guard presence, however, might be eleven Elevens currently casually hanging from a ledge under said guest room window like black decorations.
The first Eleven climbs directly under the window, and then pulls himself up to peek through.
“Neat!” he exclaims, “Hey, there’s someone swimming in it. Wait, how does it fit?” he beams at his own show of control and proper speaking while focusing on all his bodies hanging, literally, around.
Scratching noises from below, few huffs, and masonry crumbling under unbelievably sharp claws makes Three look down, only to see a strange rusty equine creature suddenly beaming at window Eleven from the same ledge.
“Hi!” she greets them, having climbed two floors in two seconds, “Do you like climbing too? Be careful not to leave scratches, it makes the princesses mad,” she salutes, hanging easily by one foreleg, and looks down at the castle wall brutalized by her quick lunges upwards, “Oops, miss Connie will scold me again.”
“Hello,” Three smiles back, “Eleven here is just practicing, and boss said I should keep an eye on him. And look, there’s an indoor pool in here… somehow. Oh, by the way, I’m Three,” he raises his foreleg which the mare shakes, “We’re here for the meeting of the important creatures.”
“Bubbles,” with both forelegs, she pulls herself up to look inside too, “Wow, you weren’t kidding, that’s a real pool,” she narrows her eyes, “And there’s somepony swimming in it, look!”
“That’s what I said!” adds Eleven.
Three bumps into the window and rubs his forehead.
Something moves in the pool, and the water surface explodes.
A flash of light makes everyone blink.
The window opens.
Spooked Eleven lets go of the ledge under the window...
...and hovers in the air, gripped in a cyan magical aura.
A pink-tinted white… equine with two-tone pink and violet mane, beak instead of a muzzle, and talons on her forelegs is leaning out of the window, eyes narrowed as she watches the congregation outside her room. Her golden coronet adorned with three light blue plumes is glowing with the same light presumably holding Eleven.
“Fluffy...” he mumbles. And he’s right, the strange tall mare indeed is. Come to think of it, she’s easily as tall as princess Celestia which is the only point of reference Three has.
“Prey tell, what are you doing outside my window?” her voice is a little on the hostile side, but she’s obviously more curious than unfriendly.
“We were wondering how they got a pool into your room, miss,” Three scratches his head, now apparently in the position of seniority, “But… are you a changeling? You had fins and flippy tail and everything for a second, and now you’re a pony… a bird pony I mean. Are you bad mom in disguise?”
She narrows her eyes.
“What did you just say?” she asks slowly.
“Umm… which part made you mad?” Three hovers lower and grabs the floating Eleven whom the mare refuses to let go.
“Let’s start with the assumption of being a bad mother...”
“Oh, bad mom? That’s queen Chrysalis! And you changed, so I thought-”
“That I was a changeling, now I understand,” her expression thaws a little, and she pulls Eleven inside. She tilts her head and blinks when other ten Elevens follow, then Bubbles jumps in, and finally Three joins them too, “Now, who are you?”
“Hey, it’s impolite to ask others’ names without telling yours first,” Bubbles pouts, “Miss Anvil taught me that.”
“And is it polite to spy on a queen of another nation first thing in the morning?” she tilts her head, “Although you are correct in a way. My name is Novo, and I am the queen of hippogriffs.”
Bubbles smacks her head with her foreleg.
“Uh oh… miss Connie is soooo going to shove me into a pet carrier for this...” with a nervous chuckle, she bows, “I’m Bubbles, member of the Order of the Silver Sun special task force under sir Cromach. We’re here to keep you safe, ma’am!”
Three’s eyes cross. Everyone here is too important. Where is boss when you need him? Alright, it’s time to do things diplo-wordly!
“We’re with the boss representing the changelings… from the north… near the Crystal Empire,” Three bows too, taking his cue from Bubbles, “Not with bad mom, I mean queen Chrysalis. I’m Three and that’s Eleven.”
“Well, then excuse my rudeness,” Novo extends her talons to Three who shakes them. Eleven senses his moment, and hugs the huge mare’s other foreleg, “My, you certainly are friendlier than most other changelings I’ve met.”
“Just wait until you meet boss,” Three beams, “He’s awesome, even if he worries too much about everything. But minotaurs and crystal ponies are okay with us thanks to him and we have enough to eat without having to cocoon anyone. Unless they want it, of course.”
Novo blinks.
“Why would anypony want such a thing?”
“Kinda agree with the queen on this one,” adds Bubbles.
“It’s relaxing!” Three explains cheerfully, “You can have a nice dream, take an evening off, and all you need afterwards is a good bath. I even heard a pony say it’s great for your mane. I don’t have any, so I can’t tell.”
Bubbles pokes Three’s wobbly zebro.
“Ummm...”
“That’s fake,” Three scoops a bit and boops Bubbles’ nose, “Have a taste, it’s cotton candy.”
With utmost suspicion, Bubbles’ crossed eyes examine the pink blot on her nose, then she licks her muzzle, and her ears perk up.
“That’s delicious! Can I have more?” she starts sniffing Three’s scalp, “Miss Anvil doesn’t let me have too much sugar. She says I’m already hyperactive enough, and that I would get fat.”
“Sure,” Three tilts his head which Bubbles starts chewing on without delay but with utmost care. It’s like a head massage really. Wohoo, he’s doing diplomacy already! Boss will be so proud of him, “You can have some too, miss queen. You’re fit and pretty enough to handle a bite or two.”
Novo covers her beak with her talons, snickering. One Eleven scoops some of Three’s mane, and offers it to Novo who takes a peck, and hums in approval.
“I sincerely hope your… boss doesn’t mind me eating his subject,” she turns around, and walks into the pool which by all laws of physics and architecture can’t be more than a hoof deep until only her head is visible. With a flash, her hind legs turns into a fish tail, and she relaxes with her back against the opposite end, “Now, it would be rude of me not to return the gesture. If you want a dip, this pool is very accommodating. Princess Celestia had it made specifically for the rooms of me and my retinue. Us hippogriffs can transform into what others call seaponies at will,” she shows her tail by flipping it above water.
“Hey, I thought hippogriffs had pony heads and just talons, but fluffier feathers around their neck like griffons,” Bubbles has cleaned up Three’s head into glistening perfection, leaving no trace of any pink mane.
“As it turns out, yes. We, the original pureblood hippogriffs, live on and under mount Aris, and our magic allows us to transform like this. However, griffons and ponies can have hippogriff offspring who can turn out to be like us or like Bubbles here described, without the magic.”
“Neat!” Bubbles walks into the pool, and begins paddling around. Eleven’s eyes dart from Three to the water, and then one carefully lowers himself into the water and starts swimming.
“Don’t be afraid,” Novo looks at other Elevens sitting around and watching the water, “It’s very deep, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Oh, Eleven is...” Three scratches his head, “He’s like one mind in eleven bodies, that’s why we call him that. That means he’s already inside,” he points at the small changeling flapping his legs with an expression of furious concentration on his scrunched muzzle, “We had a bit of an accident in a pool yesterday. It’s hard to swim with leg holes, and Eleven isn’t the best at shapeshifting. I can show you,” he jumps into the pool, raises his forelegs while kicking with his back legs as hard as he can, “Now I’ll make our normal holes in our leg-blrblblrblr?!” he immediately sinks like a rock, and gets pulled out by Novo’s telekinesis. After coughing out some water, he adds, wheezing, “See? Eleven isn’t the best at coordinating his bodies doing new things in stressful situations, that’s why there’s just one of him in the pool,” her reshapes his legs back, and starts splashing water at Bubbles who beams with all her teeth which for reasons unknown to her don’t scare Three off. That’s a new experience, and a pleasant one to boot.
***
Inside a simple office on the floor above, Cromach is sitting behind his desk, reading the guest list for the summit, and his talon stops on one particular line.
“The boss of the northern changeling hive...” he asks. Contradiction, standing at attention in front of him, shrugs, “I don’t like new. New usually means bad.”
“No idea who that’s supposed to be. Maybe your buddy Vargaz will know. Black Ops agents know everything about everything.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll have to ask him later,” he drums his talons on the desk, “On the other tentacle, this could turn out to be an opportunity for a scouting mission for you and your team.”
Connie rolls her eyes.
“Yes, us, the guys who are about as inconspicuous as an active volcano farting clouds of rainbows. A white griffon who sneezes lightning, one unicorn weirdo, a demon, satyr, and a minotaur. We’re the right ones to call if and only if we ever need to infiltrate a carnival unnoticed.”
Cromach snickers at the image. Why can’t there ever be some dark mage hiding in a circus, seriously? Clowns are weird enough already for a crazy unicorn to hide around. But nooooo, it always has to be either a graveyard or the sewers.
“You’re right. We’ll need a good reason to follow members of a changeling royal retinue if we want to avoid diplomatic trouble.”
***
“Wheeee!” Eleven squeaks as Bubbles is holding one above water with each foreleg. Others are circling Novo floating in the center of the pool. Only one is sitting on the edge, wetting his forelegs, and keeping an eye on the situation.
Knocking on the door interrupts their fun, and Novo looks up at the clock sitting atop a small cabinet.
“Oh my, time sure flies,” she darts towards the pool’s edge, turns into a hippogriff in a flash of light, and walks out, “and I should get ready for the opening ball.”
“Don’t worry, miss queen,” Three pulls himself out of the pool and salutes. Bubbles shakes herself off like a dog, and then helps Eleven get out too. Soon, they’re all lined up by the window, “Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll tell the boss that you’re really nice for a queen.”
“Yep,” Bubbles nods as well, “I haven’t met any other queen, but you set up a high bar,” with a smile, she backflips out of the window, “Bye!”
“Goodbye to you all as well,” Novo waves at them, and goes to answer the knocking.
Three flies outside, and sees Bubbles priming for a vertical jump. With a whoosh of air, she’s on the third floor ledge, looking down at Eleven quickly climbing out too.
“Ohh hey, there’s Astry!” she looks down at guard ponies practicing and the satyr sitting cross-legged nearby, “HEEEEEY! ASTRYYYY!” she waves, hanging by one foreleg.
The satyr waves back, then covers his eyes from the sun to see Three and Eleven better.
“That’s a skinny minotaur,” comments Eleven.
“Astray is a satyr. Half-minotaur, half-something hairless and cuddly,” Bubbles explains from above, “He’s really nice, let’s go see what he’s doing!” without a moment of doubt she kicks herself off of the wall, and dives to the ground. Finishing her drop with a roll, she looks upwards at Eleven with an eager expression.
Eleven measures the distance, and comes to the correct idea of not trying to imitate Bubbles. Instead, two Elevens help steady the one hanging from the ledge while other two hang down from the first one’s legs, forming a ladder to the first floor window. The remaining six use the five to climb into safe dropping distance, and then catch the other five dropping one by one.
“Well done,” Three flies down to the pile of slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed Elevens who high one each other, “Boss will be proud of you.”
They approach Bubbles and Astray, the grey-legged and maned satyr thingy wearing a dark green, airy shirt.
“Friends?” asks Astray with a smile. Bubbles nods.
“Mhm, those eleven are Eleven, and the floaty one is Three. I already ate his mane so you can’t have any, sorry,” she adds, looking at the grass and clicking her claws.
“I might need some more clarification on that,” Astray raises an eyebrow when Eleven starts curiously poking the fingers of the arm he’s propping himself with. Suddenly, the satyr quickly opens his palm at sniffing Eleven who jumps backwards so fast he does a somersault. Elevens around the satyr narrow their eyes, frowning.
“I’m Three,” he shakes the satyr’s hand, motion which is followed by eleven heads nodding up and down with utmost suspicion, “I’m keeping an eye on Eleven while the boss is getting ready for the big meeting. Well, two eyes. I can grow more but it makes my head ache.”
“Boss took us to see the big pony city,” the Eleven in front speaks up, and uses Astray looking in his direction for one of his bodies to sneak up on the satyr from the back and grab his hand with all four legs. The satyr casually lifts Eleven wrapped around his forearm in front of his face. Eleven sticks his tongue out at him.
“So… all of these guys are Eleven?” Astray scratches the chin of an Eleven he can reach with his free arm. All Elevens stick their tongues out this time.
“Yep,” Three nods.
“Huh, shows how little we know about changelings,” muses the satyr, and lowers his Eleven down.
“You wanna play catch?” Bubbles asks.
“Sorry, can’t,” Astray shakes his head, “I’m watching the Royal Guard practice. Someone has to report to sir Cromach later. Not that I’m particularly supposed to or anything, it’s just a way to pass time before they call on us.”
Three shakes his head too.
“With all those ponies around,” he waves his hoof towards the practicing guards, “I think I should be serious and represent the boss.”
“Do I represent too?” Eleven gives Three the puppy eyes, not that Three would even want to deny his obvious request to play.
“Don’t worry about it, Eleven,” he beams, “I’ll do the representing, you do you.”
“Yay!” Eleven groups up around Bubbles, “What do we catch?”
“You!” Bubbles beams, “You run around and I have to catch you. Let’s limit ourselves to these back lawns so that we don’t bother any guests. When I catch you, we switch.”
That sounds suspiciously easy to Eleven. After all, he’s quick and she’s alone. He nods, and primes his forty-four legs.
“Alright, on the count of three,” Bubbles stands up and grins, “One… two-”
“Three!” Three calls out, and Eleven scatters.
His miscalculation becomes clear when Bubbles rushes forward with speed even the changelings consider crazy. Eleven instinctively tries to get away from her, unaware that she’s herding him into smaller and smaller circle. It doesn’t take even five minutes before Eleven has to slow down. Bubbles is faster, although their agility is about even. What makes all the difference, though, is Bubbles’ infinite stamina. She doesn’t have to slow down in the slightest.
However, Eleven is nothing if crafty about his bodies.
As Bubbles jumps ahead to force Elevens to move aside again, two bull-rush her legs, making her stumble in an attempt to avoid stomping on them. The rest swarm around and all over her.
“That’s not gonna work,” Astray smirks, “She’s a lot stronger than she looks.”
However, the pile of Eleven fails to break. It just keeps shaking until Astray realizes he’s hearing Bubbles’ unrestrained laughter.
“AHAHAHAHA- STOP- STO- HAHAHAHAHA!” Bubbles just keeps choking, laughing, and gasping for breath, “HAHAHAHAAA- HEL- HELP MEEE- AS- HAHAHA- ASTRYYYYY!”
Eventually, only two Elevens are required to completely disable Bubbles by tickling her sides while the others sit around, grinning in victory. Astray stares in horror.
“You… you immobilized… Bubbles?” he stutters.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!”
“I win!” Eleven finally lets Bubbles go, “Counterattack OP.”
“That was… that was…” Bubbles can finally breathe, “cheating...”
She weakly puts her forelegs up in defense when Eleven approaches again, but this time two only hug her, which she reciprocates by wrapping a foreleg around each.
“Rules are for biggers!” cheers Eleven.
***
“QUEEN CHRYSALIS, RULER OF THE EQUESTRIAN CHANGELING HIVE!” yells an earthpony usher clothed in red and gold coat reaching all the way to the floor after a unicorn by the other side of the big double door is done blowing a quick note on a trumpet.
Here we are, approaching a line of various species of ponies, griffons, zebras, dragons, diamond dogs, minotaurs, and Chrysalis who is just being let inside the ballroom on the ground floor of the castle. It seems like the protocol is that someone from the retinue announces the ruler’s name, the yelling guy compares it with the checklist, then the music guy blows the tune, and then the screamo calls the name out.
“IVAN IVANOV, DUKE OF STALLIONGRAD!” a white unicorn with military decorations all over his broad chest disappears into the room followed by two mares, one of whom looks like a secretary with her black formal wear and glasses, and one is obvious eye candy, wearing only a see-through skirt.
“MI AMORE CADENZA, EMPRESS OF THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE!”
My ears hurt already.
Now here’s a solution! I shapeshift myself deaf, and let out a sigh of relief. It’s going to be a long wait. On the other hole, it’s sort of fun to keep guessing who is who as they enter even though I don’t know whether I got the answer right since I can’t hear the usher anymore.
So, the grey ponies with black stripes wearing gold rings around… everything really are zebras. There’s a bunch of them the usher is calling out separately, so wherever they come from must be separated into hives or nations or groups too. A grey griffon wearing only a gold-embroidered black jacket is next, and his identity makes me wonder a little, since he looks way more common than the majority of his retinue. Then it’s the turn of an azure, red-eyed dragoness shooting dominant glares at anyone daring to catch her look.
The line moves with glacial slowness, until…
“Boss, did you think of the name?” asks Gem with urgency, currently talking to the usher.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! Of course I didn’t.
Apparently, no spine means no brain as well.
Quickly turning my ears back on, my confusion reaches peak values when sudden chaos coming from Cryo’s mind reaches me.
“What’s going-”
“BEARD!” she calls out.
“KING BEARD OF THE NORTHERN CHANGELING HIVE!” the usher calls out automatically into the ballroom as we all freeze.
“Well fuck me backwards...” One rolls her eyes, drawing us all into the hive mind.
“Holes damn it!” I sigh.
“Congratulations, beardad,” Two snickers.
“Cryo, what the hole?!” I raise my mental voice at the blinking queen.
“I… I… the beard… studied shadows… and scary crystals...” she stutters out, “Wanted weapons… minotaurs helped...”
“Cryo, not now, please. We can’t have you stuck at the moment.”
“Rebooting,” says Two, and kicks Cryo’s hind leg in the real world as hard as she can without being too obvious about it.
“Hey!” the queen looks down at Two who gives her an innocent smile, “Oh, was I doing it again? My bad.”
“Glad you’re back with us,” I sigh, gradually shuffling into the ballroom, ”Now to just deal with being king of the beard or whatever that pony idiot called me.”
“You can just grow one, boss,” I hear Three who is apparently watching through us, “Like I did with my mane… until Bubbles ate it.”
“Who did WHAT?!” my eye twitches. As is usual with Three, what he’s saying contains too much information as well as too little at the same time.
“Don’t worry, boss. I’ll grow it back soon, and we made new friends!” he adds.
Okay, okay, breathe. First things first. What’s the worst that can happen? They’ll laugh about the beard thing. I might even get to explain it and gain a fun story out of it, right?
Keep walking. Ignore the stares, that’s normal. They’re just curious. Ignore the shaking legs.
“WHAT THE-” Chrysalis sits up from her chair so fast it flips over, now standing on her hind legs with her forelegs slammed into the central table. Her eyes are open wide, but her slit pupils are like those of a predator ready to kill, and her fangs are openly visible.
“Ah, excellent,” princess Luna’s friendly wave towards us is interrupted by Chrysalis’ jerky reaction.
“-BUCK?!” Celestia is standing already as well, finishing Chrysalis’ thought. Her narrowed eyes aren’t on the murder level of Chrysalis, but the open hostility is palpable.
Kinda hard to ignore that.
The thing is… they’re not looking at me. They’re looking above me.
Their shocked and furious glares are all aimed at Cryo.
Thankfully, Luna comes to the rescue, and approaches us first with a smile, giving a courteous bow to me and One walking in the front.
“Forgive my memory, but I do believe I recall only the lady here,” she nods at One.
“Oh, we’ve met-” I pause, “Ah, you wouldn’t recognize me, princess, would you? I was much smaller and without the mane. Still in charge, though, or so they made me believe,” I add with a smirk.
“I see, the one everypony wanted to protect from us. You’ve grown up a lot in the past years.”
“Despite certain fanatic’s attempts at making sure he wouldn’t,” One nods at rapidly approaching Celestia and Chrysalis.
“My sister will explain everything, but she understands how wrong she was. You have to understand as well that the situation was vastly different from today. I had hope in you, and you didn’t fail me,” Luna smiles.
“We need to talk right now!” Chrysalis hisses at me, “What the hive is she doing here?!” she nods at Cryo who is quietly staring down at both princesses and the queen.
“We should all calm down and take this discussion somewhere a little more private than the center of the ballroom,” says Luna.
“Where did you dig up this relic-” Chrysalis downright growls now.
“Shut up, mother,” One steps up and looks straight into Chrysalis’ eyes. The queen’s scowling changeling bodyguard raises her hoof, but doesn’t do anything, having apparently received a mental order from Chrysalis, “My king is too polite to cause a scene here, but it’s clear that you aren’t and neither am I.”
“We need to talk about this,” Celestia’s careful and controlled tone interrupts the staring contest between One and Chrysalis.
“We certainly do,” all heads turn to Luna, “I’ve never seen you so impolite, sister,” the moon princess tilts her head only slightly, but a gesture like that won’t be lost on a changeling.
With renewed peace, or at least a temporary truce, we stop being the spectacle of the room as we follow Luna to a long, wallside table filled with refreshments.
“Now, what was that all about?” asks Luna in a hushed tone.
“That is Cryo!” Chrysalis glances at the larger queen currently sniffing the punch bowl before burying her muzzle into it and taking a long, gurgling draft, “Though I don’t recall her being such animal.”
“One of queen Chrysalis’ generals from the invasion of Canterlot during the great war with the rising changeling empire.”
“Aaaand? I know I haven’t been around at the time, being launched on the moon and all,” Luna says meaningfully, “but a lot of old enemies are our friends these days,” her head turns from Celestia to Chrysalis.
“Cryo staged a rebellion against me during the siege!” growls Chrysalis, “We were so close to taking the castle and ending pony resistance once and for-” she stops, realizing that Celestia is now giving her an unusually hostile stare.
“You know, I was wondering for decades as we were rebuilding what stroke of luck saved us in those dark days...” muses the solar princess who decides to approach Cryo who has successfully polished off the entire punch bowl.
“Fruity,” she hiccups, and a stream of floating pink bubbles leaves her mouth, “Little beard -hic- I might have -hic- a problem,” she covers her mouth, hiccups again, and the bubbles come out of her ears.
Now that’s a strange reaction of liquid and our changeling goo if ever I saw one, and I saw one mix melt through a granite floor.
“Oh dear,” Two opens the nearest window, and leads Cryo to it, “Just try to breathe, and don’t worry about the bubbles.”
“Ahem,” I clear my throat, “Cryo is a member of my hive now, so I’d appreciate if you left the buried past where it belongs,” I lower my voice while looking at Chrysalis, “Especially those of us who have a history of butchery beyond redemption.”
“You talk big for a drone-”
The following crack of chitin fails to resonate through the ballroom only thanks to an incredibly quick sound blocking spell of Two of all changelings.
“Oh dear holes thank you!”
“No problem, dad. All in the day’s work for an infiltrator.”
Chrysalis’ bodyguard barely had a chance to move when One’s downwards punch broke the queen’s muzzle. Even Chrysalis barely had a chance to move.
“You will show my king proper respect,” says One coldly, “and you will extend that respect to my whole hive,” she glances Cryo’s way, “Fail to do that, and we will have words. Your will be ‘ouch’, ‘I beg you’, and ‘please stop stabbing my rectum with my own brutally twisted off horn’.”
Green fire washes away Chrysalis’ horrified stare and unnaturally bent muzzle, replacing it with her usual healthy form and calm demeanor. I can sense her seething under the disguise, though.
“Enough!” Luna narrows her eyes at One, “This is a summit about cooperation and peace,” then she looks at me, “There is no one beyond redemption. Trust me, I know better than most,” and finally, she nods to Celestia, “Sister, I would love a refresher on recent history later, but there are others we should greet at the moment.”
Celesta agrees, gives one final fascinated glance to now slightly foaming Cryo being taken care of by Two, and follows her sister to meet a fourth, smaller, purple alicorn mare who feels familiar for some reason.
“Honey, let me talk to Chrysalis alone, will you?” One mentally pokes me.
“No punching unless she tries anything,” I reply, and slowly walk off, examining the variety of pony food on the tables.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be diplomatic.”
“More threats out of earshot, my daughter?” Chrysalis tilts her head.
“I said what needed to be said. You acted like a total ass,” One shrugs, “And I believe Luna said the rest. That aside, this isn’t your first summit, I suppose. How do things generally go?”
If Chrysalis is surprised in the slightest by the shift of the conversation into the realm of casual, she doesn’t show it.
“Since we don’t control any actual surface territory other than the Badlands where no one really wants to live, much of the discussion about migration or trade doesn’t concern us. I’m here more to show that changelings are still a thing in this world, that getting rocks thrown at us in the street is a bad idea, and that we’re smart enough to contribute to the society at large. You’d be surprised, but this is what I’ve been trying to accomplish during my time of not being ‘evil’. I assume your king Beard,” she snickers, “will be building on the foundations I set up. Speaking of facial hair growth, what’s all that about?”
“It’s a long story...” One sighs, “No, it’s actually a very short and incredibly stupid story. You wanna hear it without your emergency ration tailing you all the time?” she nods to Chrysalis’ bodyguard whose eye twitches.
“That’s my new rank One,” Chrysalis taps her hoof against the floor, which makes her One freeze, “You might have noticed she’s a warrior this time. Plurality of opinion isn’t exactly what I’m used to, but I’m starting to see the benefits as well as drawbacks in these changing times. With Comfort’s ascension, you finding a new owner, and my general loss of changeling power, even my best still have a lot to learn. Good thing we’re not at war anymore, I suppose.”
With tentative peace restored, One, other One, and Chrysalis continue their chat about the current status of the hive, and the better parts of the old days.
Unfortunately, it would be too much to ask for cheer to rule everywhere.
Cryo has finished hiccuping, and is sniffing a variation of smoked meats prepared for the diamond dog, dragon, and griffon visitors, cuts neatly stacked into a fan on each other. She examines a string of sausages, and slurps one up whole. In an attempt to move her head up from the full plate, she notices that the whole rolled up batch moved. A more careful cross-eyed examination reveals that the sausages are all connected, and that the string is stuck between Cryo’s teeth.
“Little beard, I think this food is a trap,” she doesn’t dare move not to start flailing a long string of sausages around.
A burst of laughter from a group of griffon delegates busy with the selection of food nearby, however, makes her straighten up in an attempt to look dignified. That, of course, leaves her in her full huge glory with a pony length of sausages stuck in her mouth, much to the snickering and whispering of quite a lot of guests now.
“Little beard, I’m afraid I’m causing trouble for the boss.”
“Don’t worry, just lean down and I’ll get it out,” Two rushes over from her own examination of mild liquor. Cryo’s motion only serves to amuse the griffons further, at least until the leading grey griffon approaches and says something Two can’t hear over the loud conversations of everyone. The snickering stops immediately, and the griffon attention turns back to food. Whoever the griffon leader is, he is firmly in charge.
In fact, almost everyone loses interest as soft music starts playing from the stage in the back of the ballroom. Some of the more courageous ponies quickly start dancing to the tune. The one who doesn’t lose interest, however, is a ‘loaf of beard’ tall enough to reach Cryo’s underbelly who approaches the azure queen finally freed by Two.
“Beautiful lady got appetite,” the brown yak wearing a crown says in a genuinely appreciative tone, “Changeling don’t mind stuck up griffons. Yak mares know how to eat, and are proud of it. You big, you strong, you represent hive well,” and just as quickly as he came, he leaves the two absolutely astonished changelings behind.
“That loaf of beard didn’t smell,” comments Cryo after a while, “Must have been royalty.”
“Yeeeeah...” Two scratches her head, “I’m pretty sure this will result in diplomatic relations we might not want.”
“Diplomatic cocoon.”
“Yep. Come on, they refilled the punch with blue one. I want to see if it makes you blow different bubbles.”
Whether it’s because she enjoys the taste, or whether she just wants to spend time with Two, Cryo follows her off to try the fresh bowl of drink.
As the event progresses, One notices a large, muscular zebra stallion approaching her with an easy to sense hint of lust coming off of him. A heavy golden hoop hangs from his ear, and there are three around his neck as well, possibly a mark of status.
“I couldn’t help noticing,” he speaks up in a deep, seductive voice, “how you showed queen Chrysalis her place in front of the Equestrian princesses. You are a powerful mare.”
One returns his interested smile, curious where this is going.
“Speechless?” the zebra continues, confidence practically oozing from him, “We, zebras, have this effect on mares. Many even seek us out to join our harems,” he has to stretch his legs and neck to reach to One’s chin despite being taller and broader built than the occasional earthpony guards occasionally visiting the ballroom, “The heat of Zebrica can be… legendary.”
“I do believe I’ve heard the rumors,” One smiles back at the obviously hungry zebra.
“They are more than just rumors, gorgeous,” the zebra nuzzles her neck, “I heard your… king speak, a typical soft diplomat. Why don’t we sneak off somewhere private where I can show you why we rule the fantasies of married mares?”
“You…?” One’s sudden unimpressed tone serves like a cold shower. She leans down to look under the stallion’s belly, “With that?” she starts laughing, “You’re offering that… to a changeling? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What? You got just one? Yeah, let’s sneak off -HAHAHAHAHA- for few minutes -HAHAHA- somewhere private! I think -HAHAHA- I can spare -HAH- a hoof!”
The stallion huffs, now red with indignation. Celestia arrives to see what’s going on.
“Oh my, somepony is having fun,” she comments carefully, keenly aware that the stallion certainly isn’t that somepony.
One wraps her foreleg around the zebra’s shoulders, not giving him an inch to move when he tries to shift away.
“Nopony told me that zebras are so charming and funny too!” says One out loud, “What a lovely chat, but I should go. Business doesn’t wait,” she strides off towards Cryo currently shoving her head into an open window again.
“Diplomatic enough for you, honey?” One asks with a hint of real amusement.
“Yep, that guy might know the heat of Zebrica, but he’ll still need some ointment for that burn.”