//------------------------------// // Support // Story: I Am His Queen // by Arreis Of Avalon //------------------------------// I open my eyes again and, for the first time since I first laid down however long ago, I feel awake. It’s late, I can tell. It is a cloudless night and Luna’s moon has risen high in the sky, casting rays throughout the room and over my bed. As I sit up, I look around, wincing in pain. My body aches, but I feel far more aware than I have been in so long. I need to be active, if just for now. I take in the now empty room and process for a moment.  The world comes flooding back, or at least the time that has passed since I last rose from my sleep. Cadence. Maskra. Twilight. They called upon Cadence to help me. I worked that much out from their conversations and the presence of the Princess of Love. They were concerned enough about me that they called upon the very Princess I once so foolishly impersonated. What a pity that it would be in vain - it had to be. I try to stand and nearly collapse. My legs no longer have enough substance to hold me up. I gently sit back on the bed, shivering. I am so terribly cold. The air… well. Goes straight through me. I’m still alone, at the moment. They must all be busy running their various errands for my health. It gives me time to think, and I suddenly find that I can. I can think. I can feel. That fact should be startling, but… I still cannot feel as much as I’m certain they would like. It’s not startling at all. It’s just… fact.  I can recognize many facts. I am Mouraiie. That fact is well known to me now. I am likely surviving off of my love for Eacko. How… bleak. I rest my head on the pillows once more and breathe slowly, trying to ignore the agony of my bones. Nothing is going to make the pain fade now. Not rest. Rest did nothing.  Eacko’s love. What an emotion to cling to! I should have seen the signs. Nevermind that the Mouraiie was half considered myth at this point. No changeling had been considered Mouraiie since my mother’s reign, at least. But nonetheless, here I was, rotting in place, hardly able to move, longing for that feeling I would never feel again. Love. His love. I would never get it again, and the weight that fact held was going to crush me. That, too, was a fact I knew with certainty. I shut my eyes and long for that moment, not long ago, when I was at peace. When I no longer felt this pain. Sometimes, the numbness is better than the pain. Even if it means I will soon waste away to nothing. The nothing was better than the pain. The pain of fact. I blankly feel tears on my face, tracing lines in the ash of my skin. *~*~*~ She tears at the chains wildly, snarling and hissing as the guards come near. Her hair is in disarray. Her body is wasting slowly away, ever so slowly, from the lack of love. Her wings droop, the holes in her body are larger, and her eyes lack their shine. However, they still hold their fire. Her stay in the hardly used dungeons of the Hive has wreaked havoc on her physicality, but it would take much longer to touch her spirit. “Settle down!” One of the guards calls.  She simply lashes out again in response, feeling the chain around her neck tug as she lunges toward the guard. The guard, to their credit, does not flinch. Well trained pup, she thinks with a growl.  “We are bringing you to the council,” the other says calmly, the distaste just barely evident in his voice. “Your presence is needed.” “Have those larval cowards finally decided to kill me?” “The council will discuss with you their intentions. Now behave yourself.” Shasria considers her options quickly, mind racing. They wouldn’t be killing her like this - they would have had the guards finish her off while she was powerless anyways. She wasn’t good for a public execution, not after being held captive for so long. That meant they honestly needed her for something. Had Chrysalis changed her mind? Shasria spits on the ground at the thought of helping that prideful failure. Once upon a time, Shasria looked up to Chrysalis, had revered her, but now that pathetic excuse for a queen is dead to her. “I will not go with you,” she says scathingly, biting at the words with the spirit she always had since birth. A small smile, as ever, touches at her lips.  She then screams as they electrocute her with their staves, rendering her quickly unconscious. *~*~*~ Twilight is scared. That thought doesn’t startle her in the slightest. Things are going exceptionally poorly with Queen Chrysalis, and that fact is undeniably scary. What started as a diplomatic mission has become a situation of life and death, something that Twilight certainly hadn’t been prepared to deal with when she signed up for this.  Well. That’s a lie. Twilight had signed up for this. When she agreed to look after Chrysalis, she had known things would be hard. She had been scared then, too. She had been scared of what the ponies would think. Of what Chrysalis would think. Of what she herself would think. Twilight has come to face some… difficult truths about her own race since Queen Chrysalis arrived. She already knew how hard it was for ponies to accept change, or things that were different. She had seen that already in the past. But Chrysalis is very different… She isn’t rumored to be evil. She is evil - well, was. She was the one to threaten all of Canterlot, to steal their love. And ponies that were scared, or even angry… They can do hurtful things. Scary things. Twilight is still scared, after everything. She has been scared since Chrysalis came here. She has pushed it as far down as she can in the hopes that Chrysalis can’t feel it. She works through it, doing her best in this situation, hoping so strongly. She hopes the hope is strong enough to hide the fear. It works for her, at least. She’s managed to hide it from herself up until now.  Now, Twilight’s scared all over again, up on the surface, and she can’t hide from her late night thoughts. She’s scared that Maskra won’t be able to get to the princesses in time to tell them what has happened. She’s scared that Princess Cadence, sleeping nearby Chrysalis’s door, is still too overwhelming for the changeling. She’s scared that. That Chrysalis may die.  Something registers in her brain as she stays awake longer, her thoughts sticking on that last fear. She’s scared Chrysalis might die.  She’s scared for so many reasons. Scared that the changelings will attack if she dies. Scared that the princesses will blame her if she dies. Scared that Chrysalis dying will be her fault for not doing more.  She is scared Chrysalis might die because… well. Because Chrysalis is her friend.  So many days spent trying to socialize her into this culture. Nights spent poring over books on Changelings, trying to piece together lost histories and half truths. Long conversations between her and Chrysalis, or her and Maskra, or her and her other friends, all about how things were going with the ponies and with Chrysalis and just... her entire life as of late has become helping Chrysalis feel like she belonged.  Is it too much to hope for that Chrysalis sees her as a friend in return? She turns in her sleep on the couch, eyeing the door to Chrysalis’s room. She needs to sleep. Not sleeping won’t help anyone. But it is hard when her friend is possibly dying next door.  And there really isn’t anything more she can do than be there for her. Twilight has magic, but she can’t have changeling magic. She can’t understand changeling magic, at least not yet. All she understands is that Chrysalis needs love, in all its forms, if she is ever going to have a fighting chance.  “I love you,” she whispers softly, but with the heartfelt determination of someone who will never stop fighting. “And we’re going to get through this.”  She rests a little easier, though sleep will elude her for hours more. ~*~*~* She isn’t supposed to enter Equestrian territory. But what the ponies didn’t know won’t hurt them, and they will never find her. They haven’t after this long, after all.  Well. It will hurt one pony, she supposes. She considers him a pony, now. Maskra won’t travel by train. No, not when he can fly. He speeds as fast as he can to try to get to Canterlot, to the Princesses. Princess Celestia, at the least, will need to be alerted. Princess Luna, she will be busy with her nightly duties. She can wait until morning. But they will both be told as soon as it is smart to tell them. As soon as possible. His first mistake is flying too low. His disguise offers him a false sense of security, but the emotions he leaks can alert his tracker from miles away. He’s grown terribly lax with his emotional control since switching sides.  His second mistake is stopping for a moment to catch his breath. He isn’t used to flying such long distances in his disguise, especially after such a long day - or at least, a draining day. An Alicorn can do this easily. A changeling in disguise? Not as much.  His final mistake is failing to listen closely. The buzzing is loud, after all, from her mind. He gasps in surprise and then pain as a hoof wraps around his neck, pulling him back and choking him. He starts to perform a roll, but with what she’s learned from her numerous interactions with the guards, she can predict that action easily. She quickly casts a sealing spell, locking Maskra in place.  “God, what the hell are you wearing?” Maskra stiffens when he hears her voice. He shifts immediately. “Ocura?” She laughs. “It’s been Ginny for months. But yeah.” She pulls away to look at him seriously, eyeing him up and down. “You look disgusting.” “Thanks for that.” She shrugs and focuses up her magic once again, this time to send a message through the already clouded hive mind. Though, being an Infiltrator of her rank, it is far easier for her to get through to her commanders. It is now that Maskra hears the buzzing, causing him to pause. “There. They know we’re coming.” “What? No. Ocura, I have a job-” “You had a duty to your people, and you betrayed them.” She grins as Maskra closes his mouth. “Now you’re going to serve them one last time.” “You aren’t my people anymore,” he says seriously. Ocura freezes a little when she hears this. “I’m a traitor. I serve Princess Celestia.” Her eyes narrow and she looks away, clearly hurt by his words. “Liar,” she says softly.  Maskra softens a little. “That old game? Ocura, you stopped playing that years ago.” “Liar.” She shakes her head. “I still play it. With the people who are still around.” He sighs and looks down. “I’m sorry.” There is no response from the changeling in front of him, and he knows it’s because she doesn’t want to say “truth.” He smiles a little sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ocura. But I need to get to the Princesses. It’s about the Queen.” Ocura hesitates and huffs. “I’m not letting you go crawling to the pony princesses.” “Please-“ “You can talk to me on the way and explain yourself. You can tell me why you abandoned us. But know this, you cockroach.” He winces. “You’re the property of the hive now.” “Ocura-” “Oh shut up!” One spell later, and Maskra is down for the count, at least for now. He will wake up along the way, Ocura knows. Then, he can explain himself. *~*~*~ “PLEASE tell me you all saw Princess Cadence fly in!” The five of them are grouped up in Pinkie Pie’s room. Rainbow Dash gently moves Gummy out of her mane as she continues. “Because that seriously can’t be good.” “I-I’m sure if something were wrong, Twilight would tell us,” Fluttershy says. She flicks her tail gently. “There’s no sense getting all worked up.” “Fluttershy is right, dear, this could just be. A…  A check in! Yes! You know how much Princess Cadence has been wanting to visit Twilight.” “When Twilight's taking care of the Changeling that nearly ruined the princess’s special day?” Applejack frowns.  Rarity huffs a little as she straightens some of Pinkie’s confetti. “Well. Perhaps Chrysalis is finally going to apologize.”  “I doubt it. Chrysalis doesn’t really seem to be the saying sorry type.” Applejack takes off her hat and sits it next to her with a sigh. “Do y’all think this might be. Y’know? About how weird she’s been acting?” “O-oh. I didn’t think anyone else noticed.” “Uh, yeah we noticed. She’s been such a downer lately! I’ve been on constant rainbow duty lately trying to cheer her up for Twilight!” “I’ve been sendin’ some of our best jam down to her, but I haven’t heard anything back.” “When me and my animals visit, she just seems so… sad.” “I will admit, she has been rather… oh, how shall I say this. Dreary? Whenever I visit to show her the outfits I’ve designed for her and her entourage.” “FOUND IT!!!” All of them jump in surprise as Pinkie makes her appearance from behind a wall of balloons in the corner. “Goodness golly that took WAY too long!” “Er. What did you find?” Applejack asks hesitantly, rightfully so. “Chrysalis’s file!” She drops it on the floor with a soft thump. “It’s still a work in progress, but I think I’ve done good so far! Her birthday is April 22, she likes buttercream frosting on strawberry cake, she HATES balloons - I know, total weirdo - and she has like a kajillion siblings!!! So I would have to make a pretty big cake.” “... Pinkie, not that this isn’t.” Rainbow struggles for her words. “... Totally weird... But why do you have a file on Queen Chrysalis?” Pinkie opens her mouth, but Applejack quickly puts her hoof there to stop that explanation. “I think what Dash means is, why were you looking for it in the first place?” “Oh yeah. That. I mean that.” “Oh!! Well. Chrysalis has been super sad lately, right? And I’m the Element of Laughter, riiight? Which means it’s totally my job to make her laugh and smile and be happy again, right???!” Pinkie bounces with excitement, but frowns as she flips the next page. “I just wish I knew more about her! She’s not the most open to friendship.” “Tell me about it!” Rainbow crosses her hooves, fluttering her wings anxiously “I mean. I get what we're trying to do here, and. I know that making friends with Chrysalis will be good for her. But am I the only one who’s questioning what’ll happen if this is just another trick?!” The five fall silent again for a second as they all recognize their agreement with her statement. Rarity shakes her head. “Well. We must put our fears aside.” “Ugh. But that’s so hard! She’s a Changeling! You know, become the people you love and try to steal your love for them?? What if she replaced one of you!!” “Now, Rainbow Dash, we gotta keep our heads on straight. She came here seeking us for help!” Rainbow sighs and flops into a pile of pillows that Pinkie has prepared for that sort of thing. “I know. I’m just. Not really used to the evil villain honestly wanting to change.” “None of us are,” Fluttershy chimes in gently. “But it… is kind of nice to have somebody want to reform for a change.” “Do you think it’s too early to throw her a birthday party 209 days in advance?” “Maybe just a touch premature, darling.” “Rats. A good birthday party always cheers me up!” Pinkie sits and noses through the file. “Y’know what I just don’t get? She’s tooootally obsessed with this one changeling guard!” “What??” None of them know of this.  “Yeah!! I mean she doesn’t mention it much but I was talking to Maskra and he kept mentioning-“ “Maskra? Who’s that?” “Oh it’s Chyrsalis’s private guard who’s a Changeling in disguise that works for Princess Celestia because he prefers being a pony.” The four others blink. “Pinkie Pie. Please. Warn us before you drop surprises like those.” “Oopsies. I guess that was supposed to be a secret. Don’t worry, Princess Celestia knows!!” “How do you know???” “Oh Dashie, I saw him change silly! The Pie has eyes everywhere.” She mimes a little periscope, eyes landing on the file again. “But I was talking to him, and he totally kept mentioning this guard, and it toootally seems like Chrysie is head over hooves completely and totally in love!!” “But I thought changelings couldn’t feel love?” Applejack frowns and looks puzzled. “But commin’ out of my mouth, it sounds like a whole sack of horseapples. Why, everybody’s gotta feel love!” “M-Maybe Changelings. Normally don’t?” “Well Maskra always talks about how Changelings aren’t supposed to be able to but I think that he thinks that Chrysalis does, and that she loves this one Changeling guard! And he’s always talking about how that other changeling draws her all the time and how much he loves her and how they would’ve been great!” “You certainly do talk to him plenty,” Rainbow says with confusion. “He barely talks to me.” Pinkie shrugs with a smirk. “I’ve got the magic touch.” Rainbow does snicker at that. Pinkie resumes her puzzled look, sighing. “What I don’t get is, why doesn’t she just ask him out? I mean. Getting a special somepony? Someling? That’s gotta cheer you up!” Rarity frowns as Applejack speaks. “Sugar, I don’t think it’s as easy as that. I reckon she would’ve asked him out already if it were.” “Maybe changelings aren’t allowed or something?” “Probably not, Dash.” “Oh stars,” Rarity says with a stunned gasp. Everyone turns to her. Her white fur has somehow gone paler. “Oh my dear sweet Celestia, how did we never put the pieces together?” “What is it? Is it a puzzle? Do you think a puzzle will make her happy?” “No, Pinkie, dear. It’s. The guard! She was in love with a guard, who loved her back. Oh, star crossed love, and they couldn’t show it!” Rarity’s eyes begin to water. “Oh, how atrocious. How dramatic.” “Uh, is this just a hopeless romantic kinda thing? Cause I don’t get it.” “Oh, Rainbow Dash, think! Twilight said it was unheard of for a changeling to sacrifice themselves like that for their queen. What sort of changeling would do that?” It hits them all at the same time. Rainbow Dash looks stunned. Applejack and Fluttershy both cover their mouths. Pinkie Pie deflates some, sorrow clear on her face.  Rarity sniffs and pulls a tissue out of the air, levitating it to Fluttershy, who is also tearing up. “All this time. No wonder she’s depressed!” “A-And he gave his life for her!” Fluttershy is now fully weeping now. Applejack gently rubs her mane to provide what comfort she can.  RImbow Dash sniffs a little and wipes away a stray tear before shooting back up into the air. “Dang it! That does it! Pinkie Pie, we’ve GOTTA make her feel better!” “I-I’m not even sure how!!” “Well, we’ve certainly got to try our best!” These 5 ponies spend the rest of their night planning, devising ways to give their newfound friend the love she deserves. They’ll be there to help her, to be kind with their love, and generous with their gifts, and honest with their words, and loyal with their hearts, and all with a smile on their faces.  These 5 ponies represent something few can obtain, and something ill defined. Love.  These 5 ponies won’t know about the gathering halfway across town until it’s far too late. A handful of ponies, concerned for their wellbeing, also meet.  “I know what I saw, it was Princess Cadence!” Bon Bon huffs. “She went straight to that house.” “That can't be good,” Time Turner mumbles. “Why would the Princess be here?” “And why her??” Lily asks desperately. “W-Why not Celestia? Is something wrong?” “She’s the Princess of Love,” Bon Bon says, attempting to be helpful.  “Yeah, who shouldn’t be anywhere near a Changeling!” Lyra says in a loud whisper. None of them quite know why they’re whispering.  “W-We all remember what happened last time,” Twinkleshine says, shivering. Minuette shivers as well, and Bon Bon gently puts her hoof on Lyra’s back to comfort her.  Lyra shakes her head. “I’m not getting brainwashed again.” “N-Now now, nopony said we were,” Minuette says gently.  “But she’s already taken Princess Cadence’s form once! There’s no saying she won’t again.” “Lyra, surely Twilight would put a stop to anything that could potentially happen,” Time Turner says cheerfully. “She wouldn’t let Ponyville suffer.” “And who’s to say Twilight isn’t already brainwashed? We’ve seen how she’s been acting. Her and all of her friends, buddy buddy to her! What if they’re all being charmed by her changeling magic?” “Honey, I really don’t think-“ “I know! I know.” Lyra is trembling slightly. “I’m just. I’m scared.” Nopony has a response. They’re all scared too.  The fear around town heightens during the night. The three bridesmaids are not forgotten in the minds of Ponyville that night, and the fear of the unknown has always caused people to lash out.  There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices - to be found only in the minds of men.  For the record, prejudices can kill, and suspicion can destroy; and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own. *~*~*~ Swille sits, his mind lost in a blueprint only he could see. It was one in his mind. There are many windows, enough to let natural light in. And ramps. The path leading the Queen’s throne room has far too many stairs. Certainly, a Changeling who can't even walk up stairs likely has no purpose any longer, but won’t it be better for the hive to not have to confront that issue at all? Truly, he thinks ahead in all cases. So the hive doesn’t have to. He smiles to himself, breathing in and relaxing. It isn’t often he gets to relax. Not that now is particularly relaxing, stuck in a meeting room by himself while he waits for whoever else is coming. But he can sit and think about his work. That usually relaxes him. The monotony, the silence except for the sound of what he makes with his own hooves… Definitely helps him to think more clearly. He thinks about all of the changes he’ll be making to the hive, once the ponies agree to help them. He knows they’ll agree, of course - why wouldn’t they? Swille only has what he knows from the Changelings, but he has… well… other sources too. And who’s to notice when a single architect takes a well deserved break after years of hard, willing service? And who’s to notice when a single architect decides to stray a little too close to Equestria?  The ponies are kind. He knows that. They’ll accept, and relations with them will eventually ease and tempers will simmer. He has faith in that fact. He smiles more to himself, a contentedness easing its way through his body. He’ll need to have places to serve real food made, of course - ponies enjoyed eating! Oh, and much, much more natural light. He’s already been doing his best on that front now, but oh, when the Equestrians come to visit.  He’s going to have so much fun making everything perfect for everyone. That’s what Swille does. The sound is broken by what can only be described as snarling as the door bursts open. Swille, naturally, screams and jolts out of his silence, flittering out of the way of the creature they throw into the meeting room with him. His eyes widen as he sees her on the ground, panting and nearly frothing with rage, disheveled and clearly nearly starved to death. “Oh. Oh g. G. Gods.”  He flushes a little as Shasria barks a disgusted laugh. “Great. The stuttering Architect.” “Shasria… You’re still chained.” She struggles up to a standing position. Swille tries to move forward to help, but… he’s frozen. He hasn’t seen her in… in such a long time. Of course he’s stuck. He is often stuck - even, as Shasria pointed out, on words and letters and thoughts and feelings all combined into language. “Of course I am. They would never let me loose.” “But you’re here. Why would the g. Guards. Let you-” “You didn’t get the memo. We’re here helping Chrysalis.” Again, he tenses up further, his wings buzzing nervously. This is already far too much excitement for one day. “You r-really shouldn’t say the name of the Queen. It isn’t p. P. It isn’t proper.” She spits at his hooves, glaring. “I don’t give a single solitary fu-” “Shasria!” “I don’t care!” She stamps, growling, taking a step forward toward him. He flinches. “She failed, don’t you realize?! She failed us with her most recent failed last ditch effort, and guess what?!” She laughs, bitterly, miserably, but filled with some deep feeling Swille can’t feel. “She’s going to fail at this last ditch effort too. I’m just sad I won’t be there to see her die.” Swille’s wings and Shasria’s panting are the only sounds in the meeting chamber. He buzzes nervously, feeling very little of the normal comfort the fluttering gives him. He bites his lip, trying to grasp at the right words for the situation, but he’s always struggled so much with words. There’s a reason he’s a background worker, one who isn’t public facing. Not like Shasria. “Oh stop with that racket. What are you? A moth? A bee?” She snorts at her own insult. “Shasria.” She stands a little taller as he says her name, his voice betraying his emotions as it always has. He’s never been good at hiding them, but thankfully, they’re usually hard to read. “What… What happened to you?” “I realized the futility of it all. What’s your excuse?” “What??”  “Why did you change? Why did you become weak?” She glares, briefly, before turning and walking over to a place to sit. She sits and breathes out ever so softly in relief. Swille can hardly remember a time she was this… vulnerable isn’t the word. He knows better words, he’s sure. Unguarded is the only thing he can think. But that has unfortunate connotations now. He gulps and tries to force his wings to stop. They don’t. They never listened to him well. He takes a deep breath instead and takes a brave step forward. “Shasria. I. I d-didn’t change.”  “Of course you did. We all did,” she says softly but with the same fire. “No. I. I always was like this. Nervous and buzzy and not fit for more.” He’s surprised he got that far without messing up. She seems to be too. “Maybe everyone else changed. B-but not me.” His voice is softer now, barely a quiet, anxious whisper, and the stuttering’s returned. She scoffs again. “Whatever. None of this matters anyways. They’re going to use us and then it’s back to the dungeon for me. Yay, rats.” “There aren’t any rats in the d-dungeon,” Swille mumbles. “What?” “There aren’t. I um. Make sure to patch the holes in the walls when I feel the integrity shift.” “Oh, shut up.” He does, sighing and moving to sit across from her on the far side of the room. He’s too scared to get close. He’s always been scared of her, a little. But who could blame him? Shasria is a force to be reckoned with. She’s always had a spark, a fire, but after the failed invasion, it turned into an inferno. Swille had once admired, desperately, that fire. Now he was too scared of being burned. They sit in silence together as they wait. Swille doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, but the presence of Shasria doesn’t settle his fluttering stomach any. But his wings do eventually relax and droop to his sides, and his breathing evens out. His mind goes to the dungeons. Time to patch the hole in the right-hoof side of Cell 22B, before a small Lantern Fly got in and set fire to the place. The next one to walk into the meeting room is… regular. A regular seeming changeling guard. “Attention.” Swille stands immediately to full attention, as is proper. Shasria stares blankly at the wall she’s been staring at this entire stretch of silence. The guard eyes her but doesn’t say anything. “Yes, sir?” “I’ve been instructed to relay important information from the Queen.” “Oh d-dear.” “This oughta be good,” Shasria mumbles. The guard clears his throat. “The Queen wishes to inform you that you’re both complete morons for not seeing through this disguise already. And that you’re doo-doo heads.” Shasria looks up sharply and Swille takes a second to process why the Queen would say something so immature. Shasria groans. “Ocura.” Ocura drops the disguise and laughs, shifting to a taller, masculine form. “Oh, you’re just jealous, blasphemer. How’s life in the dungeons.” Shasria starts to growl. “Ooo, feisty.” Swille steps between them. “Ocura, Shasria, p. P. Please?” He means to sound powerful, but it comes out pleadingly due to his fear.  “Whatever.” Ocura sits where Swille was sitting previously. Then, Ocura groans, stretching his wings. “Gods, took me ages to warp here. Architect! Get your workers on the warps. They’re listing a bit to the left.” “Oh. Of course, Ocura.” He makes a mental note to do so while Ocura laughs. Shasria sighs. “He’s joking, mothball. It’s a joke.” Swille simply flushes. Shasria glares at Ocura, standing now. “Why are you here? Why are they gathering us?” “Confidential.” “Ocura, we’re both stuck in this room together. Just tell me.” “Oh, I’m not stuck. I’m here willingly, same as our buzzy boy here. It’s just you in the chains here, remember? Or did you already forget your little tantrum?” Shasria hisses and Swille tries to step between the two of them again. “P-Please, d-d-d-” He’s shoved aside as Shasria moves forward, dragging the chains behind her. He tries not to whine. “Oh, no, it’s hard to forget when you’re choking on a leash that you’re nothing more than a dog now. You’d know all about that.” Ocura lounges, smirking. “Oh, I do. I’m the loyal dog of the Infiltrators. But I’m top dog, and you’re just the local bit-” Shasria snarls and goes to leap at him. Swille yelps. “Please stop fighting!!” He panics and blasts the end of Shasria’s chain, sealing it to the ground with a simple sealant. She gasps in pain as it tugs at her neck, leaving her just out of reach of the still smirking changeling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I couldn’t let you j-just j-jump him like that, he’s our friend!” Shasria snarls at him. “He’s not our friend! He’s a slave! He just follows his orders blindly, just like you.” “That’s not true!” Ocura snorts. “Liar.” “I-It’s not!” Swille tries his best to look mad, because he is. His wings buzz louder. “I’m a rrr. R. Rulebreaker!”  Ocura laughs, beaming at Shasria. “Nobody told me the stutterer took over the job of joker once you got fired. Glad the court has a new jester now!” “Their first choice was galavanting with Griffins,” Shasria hisses out. “Like you’ve ever met a Griffin, dungeon queen.” “Call me dungeon queen one more time, you larvae!” “Dungeon qu-” “WOULD YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP?!” Both of them freeze and jolt, staring at Swille, startled. He closes his eyes tightly, blinking the tears away. He knows it’s wrong to cry so publicly, but he has feelings that need to get out, now. “I’m scared! I’m scared and confused and I have to talk fast because the gods only know how long this will last, but I need to speak my mind while I can, and my mind says that you two need to stop!” He opens his eyes again and glares at them both. They’re still stunned. “You used to be friends! You used to laugh at good jokes, Ocura! You used to make the jokes, Shasria! We didn’t insult each other, we didn’t hate each other! I don’t hate either of you! I don’t hate anyone! I b-break the rules just so I can make sure everyone is satisfied, just so everything is better! You two get to sit here and bicker, but what about me?! D-DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER MY NAME?!” It’s still after his shouting. He whimpers and wipes at his face with his hoof, distressed and trying his best to calm down. He sits and just breathes. The two changelings regard him with newfound light. They’ve never heard him like that in the past - other than, perhaps, when directing orders to his builders. “Swille,” Ocura finally says softly. “Of course I remember your name.” “You’re my hatchmate.” Shasria looks away, a pale flush just barely tinting her cheeks. “How could I ever forget?” Swille sniffs. “We’re all hatchmates,” he mumbles. He shifts to himself, just… not as weepy. He doesn’t like them seeing him like this. “Shasria? You… asked me. How I changed. I… I lied. I d-did.” “Oh?” “I lost my only friends.” There’s a bit more silence before Ocura sighs and rubs his face. “Look. The council is gathering us because the Queen needs our help.” Shasria opens her mouth for some scathing reply, but Ocura gives her a look along with a headlong nod towards Swille. Shasira closes her mouth. “The Queen went off radar. Hasn’t been heard from in way too long. The council can’t reach her, so they’re gathering as many of her hatchmates as possible in the hopes that we can boost the signal.” “W… Will that work? Even w-with us missing so many?” “Well, we’ll have the four of us.” Shasria looks up sharply at Ocura. “What do you mean?” she asks him, her voice growing colder. Ocura sheepishly smiles. “Woops. Might’ve picked up another traitor on the way here?” Swille’s eyes widen and he stands taller, gasping. “The traitor. You mean-” The door opens and Maskra cries out as he’s shoved inside. He’s chained, similarly to Shasira, but the chains simply bind his wings and hooves. He shakes his head, which is bruised in places from the poor handling. He blinks as the other three stare at him in shock before sighing heavily. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this place?” Swille wordlessly hugs him as tightly as possible when your best friend is chained up.  “A traitor, a disgrace, a loyal dog, and a nobody.” Shasria scoffs. “What use could we be to Chrysalis?” “Oh gods. I have a lot to fill you three in on. Swille, stop hugging me, it’s okay, I’m real. Shasria, take the pole out of your behind. Ocura, please, stop pretending to look like you didn’t hear this whole spiel already. Time to tell you all a fairy tale.” *~*~*~ Tskari paces the length of the room he has been provided for the night, unable to calm his restless nerves. He curses himself; he had been so sure of himself when he first came to this castle, but now, everything feels so much less certain.  When he came here, he had been a retired general. Someone of power, who had served under two different hive queens, who had been respected and revered. He had been certain of his love for her, and certain of who she had been. Now… Now he doesn’t know anything anymore. He doesn’t know what else Velouri lied to him about. He isn’t sure what is truth and what is lie. What more has his love hidden from him? “She didn’t love you back,” he reminds himself. And he’s right in that fact - Velouri had never loved him back. It is a sore subject, but one that he came to terms with long, long ago. The hatching of her clutch had helped sooth his nerves, surprisingly. He still remembers when those hatchlings first emerged. The Queen’s Clutch. The clutch that hatches the next queen is universally regarded as powerful, changelings who will go far in their lives. Always, that appeared to be the case.  But now he knows just how special those six truly are. Well. Five.  Maskra, Swille, Ocura, Shasria, and Chrysalis. A traitor, an architect, an infiltrator, a disgrace, and a dying Queen.  “You all just had to go and be different,” he says with a sigh. He glances again at the bed but immediately ignores it once again. His mind is racing far too much still to sleep yet. He instead turns and walks to the balcony, shifting to that same pony form he wore when he ran here to speak with the Princesses.  He steps out, feeling the cool air against his fur. The days are growing colder and the sun sets earlier now, keeping the night and day in Balance with each other. He looks up and marvels at the moon and stars enough that his mind finally goes blank.  The night sky is as beautiful here as it was at home. He remembers, still, the stories young changelings are told of the myths of the moon and sun. It is only when they grow older that they learn the truth of the heavenly bodies and how the Ponies rule over them.  Still. He’s always loved the sky at night. The darkness, the chill in his lungs. His eyes trace the constellations and he mouths their names. He breathes out, somewhat in relief.  “Surprised?” He tenses up and just barely manages to not attack the mare as she lands next to him. “Don’t you have a job to be doing?” He asks as his heartbeat slows.  Luna shrugs. “A few minutes in the real world will do me well. Besides. Not all of my subjects are asleep for me to aid. Some spend their nights staring aimlessly at the sky, searching for answers.” Tskari huffs and looks back up. He holds back a retort about not being one of her subjects. There is certainly a weighty tension in the air now, but…  “Surprised about what?”  “The sky. They’re-“ “The same stars,” Tskari finishes. Luna glances at him. “You’re right. It… it is surprising, when you really stop and think. These are the same stars that are above our world. The same moon I see in the Changeling Hives is… yours.” “I do not own the moon.” “Yeah. Just a single bit of prime real estate.” Luna snorts and Tskari smiles. “Not the best, if I must say. Dusty, perhaps.” Tskari blinks and looks at her finally, never to mention that the look holds high regard. “You… really were up there. It’s disturbing to think about.” “More disturbing to think about the repercussions of all of the actions that led me there. I isolated myself from the world, and thus, I sought for adoration. I wanted them all to bow to me, rather than her. In the end, I was punished with the one thing I loathed the most.” “Loneliness.” Luna is silent as she watches the moon. Tskari looks at it now in a new light. “... Ponies. Changelings… we really aren’t so different.” “I’m afraid I must beg to differ.” He can feel her distaste leaking through now, but also… She came here of her own free will. Somewhere, deep inside, he can taste her hope.  “It’ll be weird to see a pony princess beg.” Surprise. He laughs a little. “Sure, I have these powers that let me understand your emotions. But any empathic pony can do the same. And you’ve got unicorns and pegasi and magic, but we’ve got magic too.” “I fail to see your point?” “The thing that makes us the same isn’t who we are. It’s what we’re all looking for.” “And that is?” “Love.” He scrunches up his nose. “No. More than that. Love in… in its purest form. The love that is unconditional, that is there through. Everything. And it’s often the hardest to come by. And we can fool ourselves into thinking other forms of love are what we’re looking for, like. Well. Like me and my queen, or you and the ponies you tried to make bow to you.” Resentment. Guilt. But, again, deep down - acceptance. Hope. And curiosity. He smiles a little more, gesturing to the moon. “The thing that trapped you there was the same thing that sent Chrysalis flying during the invasion.” “Love? I don’t-“ “What? No. A magic spell.” Luna blinks and Tskari shakes his head. “See, love might have broken the spell on Shining Armor, but it didn’t send us flying. His shield spell, enhanced by love, did that. And Celestia certainly didn’t send you up there out of love. Do you honestly think love could do something that horrible?” Doubt. He walks back into the room, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s worked out some of his thoughts. Luna follows, frowning. “Then what, pray tell, does love in its truest form have to do with the mistakes of our pasts?” “Simple. It’s the thing that brought us back.” Luna blinks and Tskari can see some of the flickers of understanding in her eyes. “You came back to seek what you thought was love, but you got something different, right?” “I…” She walks closer and nods, sitting with him on the bed. “I did. I was… It’s hard to describe. But Twilight used the elements of harmony with her friends, and the darkness that clouded me was gone. It took me so long to recover from that time, but… I am here, no, perhaps not healed of the past, but better.” “That right there is the love I’m talking about. Celestia didn’t abandon you. Twilight and her friends still…” He stamps his hoof into the bed with a beaming smile. “That’s the word I’m looking for. The purest kind of love. Support. They supported you. And they still do.” Luna smiles. “You are a very odd changeling.” “I get that a lot. You’re a pretty odd alicorn. I think were things different between our races, me and you might actually have been friends.” “Then it is good that things are changing.” Tskari smiles and nods. “With a little support? Definitely.” He sighs a little and rests his head, yawning as the exhaustion of the day finally breaks through his tense thoughts. “I just hope it’s enough to change Chrysie. Maybe to change us all.” Luna regards him gently, with no lack of budding respect. As his eyes close, her horn lights with magic, sending him into a deep, restful sleep. “As do I,” she mumbles softly. “For all our sakes.”