"Pretending you don't even know who I am isn't going to help."

Ocellus paces in the Conservatory's storage room, now free of pseudolings, trying to wrap her head around what she's just heard. She catches her Smolder-reflection in a stack of glass panes, seeing her confusion etched into Smolder's features. Dorky stressdragon.

Smolder sits on a crate piled with planters, her legs kicking idly as her eyes follow Smolder-Ocellus.

"Sounds like Chrysalis' daughter tried to usurp her," Smolder says, nodding. "And failed."

With a little more thought, the young dragon adds, "It sounds to me like she tried to rope Thorax's brother into her plot, and instead he ratted her out. I bet Chrysalis banished her and all her conspirators here somehow." The dragon looks upwards. "Maybe with that same mirror Luna had."

Ocellus stares at Smolder, jaw hanging open, surprised that the dragon unraveled all that far more smoothly than she could.

Smolder shrugs with a smile. "Betrayal and usurpation are both pretty common themes in stories at the Feast of Fire."

The weirdness of having herself stare at her gets to the young dragon. She gets up, flapping her wings, and lifts herself to the vent cover. Her claws begin to work the screws.

The top right screw works loose with ease. Smolder twists it until it is dangling from its hole, then gives it a flick, sending the screw on a trajectory to the floor.

The top left screw is less cooperative. It does not want to turn more than a little bit.

Smolder's snort pulls Ocellus from her thoughts. Ocellus can tell her friend is considering just ripping the vent cover off.

"Let me try," Ocellus offers, leery about the noise if Smolder should tear the screws out by force. The Nightmare cannot detect her, and Queen Elytra seems very much occupied with Pharynx. She's more worried about attracting the poltergeist.

Smolder shifts to the side, giving Ocellus access to the left screws while she turns her attention to the lower right.

Ocellus flies up, inches from Smolder. She can feel the dragon girl's body heat warming the frigid air between them as she tussles with the stubborn screw. When her wings brush Smolder's as she hovers, Ocellus can see the dragon blush slightly under her scales.

Ocellus watches Smolder focus on the lower right screw as if looking anywhere else would be looking into cockatrice eyes.

"You know," Smolder finally says, "You're exactly as strong and nimble as I am right now. You're not going to be able to do it any better."

The dragon girl freezes, eyes wide, the blush on her cheeks growing over her face.

Smolder-Ocellus whistles sinnocently as the upper-left screw finally comes loose.

Ocellus looks about at the collection of black stones on the floor before scooping them back into an empty saddlebag. She's moved everything into the other one, including Pride.

"And when she said she planned to devour your hive, she meant she was going to take all your love, right?" Smolder asks cautiously as Ocellus finishes adjusting the straps of her saddlebags to carry them more easily as a dragon. "Turn you into love-starved changelings like hers?"

Smolder blinks, taken aback. "Wait, eat you? Like, eat you. Munch, gnash, swallow... eat you."

Ocellus nods, trying not to imagine her little siblings or her parents or Thorax being consumed. She feels her heart tearing, a burning growing behind her eyes. Hatefully, her mind plays back the sight of her parents and siblings in the Nightmare's tongue. Please stop! she thinks to herself. I don't want to remember them that way!

Smolder looks like she's bitten into something truly foul. "First, yikes! Second, changeling queens do that?" Ocellus bets Smolder is trying to picture Dragon Lord Ember or even Dragon Lord Torch cannibalizing disobedient dragons. "That's horrible! ...no offense."

Ocellus nods, trying not to cry again. She's done too much of that already tonight. Crying won't do any good right now. She's not surprised that Smolder is so shocked. Dragons may be apex predators, but she doubts their Dragon Lord ever ate other dragons. That was really an insect thing.

She looks up and sees how pale her Smolder is beneath her scales. The dragon is more than shocked. Ocellus knows what she is thinking about. She remembers Smolder's dismay: Because if she did, I ate them!

Smolder likewise sees the vulnerability in Ocellus' expression. She pulls herself together, snorting smoke. "Third, don't you worry. That is never going to happen. Even if they do get through, she'd have to deal with Headmare Starlight, and Princess Twilight, and the professors. Not to mention all of us. And I don't just mean your friends. Dragon Lord Ember would never allow Thorax and his people to be conquered and... eaten... by an evil queen."

Ocellus sniffs a bit, feeling Smolder's words like a comforting blanket. She cannot taste anything from her friend (girlfriend now?) -- the cocoon of Smolder's love is still blinding her. But she can hear Smolder's confidence in every syllable.

Doubt flickers in Ocellus' mind. If this changeling queen tried to overthrow Chrysalis, why didn't Chrysalis eat her? With any other mother, Ocellus would leap to the hope that it was because she cared about her daughter anyway, or at least succumbed to maternal instinct. But she had a hard time imagining either from her former queen. In the very least, why didn't Chrysalis eat the drones who supported Elytra?

Her thoughts jump to the mirror. Luna said that passage to the moon wasn't an easy thing, requiring great sources of power. The Elements, anti-elements... even the mirror drew on the residual power of the Tree of Harmony that lived on in the Treehouse.

With a thin frown, Ocellus decides she is definitely a large step closer, but she doesn't yet understand why there are changelings on the moon. Or, at least, she doesn't understand how.

She catches Smolder watching her with clear concern. She tastes the air only to find again nothing but the delicious, wonderful barrier of cinnimon and rubies.

Why did she do that? Being temporarily bereft of her natural sense, Ocellus finds herself a little surprised just how often she uses it to gain insight into her friend's feelings. Even when there is no need.

Ocellus breaks her quiet. "We should be able to get through to the essence pools where Pharynx is now."

"We don't know what happened to our poltergeist," Ocellus reminds Smolder, personally hoping the Nightmare chased it off. "Plus, there are probably a lot more pseudolings in the pools room."

Ocellus reasons, "If we can slip past and strip Wrath away from Pharynx, that will end his control. Wouldn't that be smarter than trying to fight our way through all of them?"

"You only look like a dragon," Smolder teases. "Okay, more crawling. This time, you follow me. I'm tired of looking at my butt."

Smolder's cheeks grow rosy again. The dragon girl snorts, thrashing her tail. "Can you say that when you don't look like me?"

Ocellus gives Smolder a mischievous, smug smile. The kind that she knows looks so good on Smolder's face.

"Oh no!" Smolder-Ocellus whines as the two friends stare into the essence pools room through a large vent opening. "I'd forgotten about those."

The room is massive. Six huge pools are spread about the sides and corners of the room, filled with varying degrees of shimmering cerulean liquid that moves and sloshes on its own. Ocellus has seen that shade of blue often enough to know what she is seeing even without all Luna has told her -- raw, extremely condensed dark essence.

Massive pipes snake up the walls before elbowing towards the center of the room. They sweep away from the walls, suspended high above the floor below, and converge on a large central structure built downward from the ceiling -- a control center, Ocellus presumes, or an observational one. The entire suspended structure is enveloped in an oval of sheer, infinite black.

Two more pipes reach back to the wall on either side of the room and descend to arrays of onyx pillars. As they watch, flashes of ethereal white light erupt over half a dozen pillars on the near and far walls, pouring out smoke and oil. Columns of black flame erupt from the capitals beneath, creating cocoons of obsidian fire. The cocoons peel away, birthing new pseudolings.

The room was also absolutely teaming with pseudolings. There are scores standing at attention on the floor below. Groups fly in patrols throughout the room, but the mass of them stand or hover in formations, facing the bulkhead door into the Conservatory. Pharynx has already built an army.

The eight pipes remind Ocellus strangely of insect legs. Combined with the void barrier, the room look vaguely like a giant spider. She wonders if Smolder was seeing the same resemblance.

Ocellus looks at her friend, unsure if Smolder was being sincere or poking fun. Yona had a strong fear of spiders until she met Spindle. Now she rather liked them.

Ocellus changes the topic, returning to what she had somehow forgotten about. "Pharynx is inside that black barrier. With Wrath."

Smolder-Ocellus nods. "Yes. I've seen this before. We have to look for a white, moon-shaped button."

The absurdness of the task hits Ocellus. In a room this huge, they might never find it even without Pharynx's false hive in the way! "It will be well-hidden and probably really difficult to reach. Think of it like a puzzle."

Smolder-Ocellus rolls her eyes (enjoying just a little the opportunity to do so). "Yeah, because I had this big Nightmare Moon fangirl phase."

Ocellus' draconic jaw drops as she lets out a Smolder-voiced squeak. "What? How? Where?"

"Right across from us." Smolder points out what appears to be another opening to a vent on the opposite wall. Only instead of the normal grate, this one has heavy bars sealing it.

Ocellus recalls her map. There are only utility rooms on this side of the Conservatory and essence pools. There shouldn't be a duct on the opposite wall.

Ocellus stares at her friend, impressed. "Y-yes, that looks likely." But they'd need to check it out to know for sure.

And what if the moon button is hiding behind those bars? Normally, this wouldn't even be a challenge. She'd just turn into a bugbear and rip the bars off. But not only would that draw the attention of an army of pseudolings, taking any other form would also bring the Nightmare down on them.

As Ocellus contemplates, a small group of pseudolings shift to hover right in front of the bars, making space for the next dozen to be birthed from the pillars.

"Uhhh, unless you've changed your mind about taking all of them on..." Smolder whispers.

Either the pseudolings would move on their own, or the queen would find her way in here, and then they would move.

Smolder-Ocellus and Smolder recline in the cramped duct and wait for the pseudolings to move.

The crafter artifacts continue to pump out more pseudolings. Each is swiftly enveloped in an aura of red and rises to join the false hive.

After almost a full minute passes, Ocellus hears Smolder mumble something softly.

Ocellus turns to Smolder, keeping her own voice low. But not that low. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ocellus' Smolder-eyes go wide and she stares at her friend, stunned. It takes a moment to make herself believe she heard that. "I thought dragons don't do that," she whispers.

Smolder waves her claws in quick protest. "We don't! We really don't." Turning to face Ocellus, she whispers back, "But you changelings really do. You have a whole Feelings Forum. And I thought... since we have to wait... and with everything that has happened... how badly what the queen said hit you, and what happened back in the clock room, and you having to become like one of them, and not to mention my trying to hoard you..." Smolder stops, realizing she is rambling.

Her friend takes a deep breath. Then offers softly, "I thought that maybe you might need to."

Ocellus continues to stare, but no longer in shock. What Smolder is doing strikes her heart. She's being so kind and sweet. Ocellus feels wetness in her eyes. She finds herself tasting the cocoon of Smolder's love again.

The lovebug reflects on the mess of her emotions. So much has happened. So much of it is confusing. Too much of it feels heavy and filled with shadows. Some of it might break her to think about. If it did, she knows she can trust Smolder to pick up the pieces. She remembers the dragon waving her lantern in front of her face, bringing her out of nothingness. But she can't go to pieces here; she can't put that on Smolder right now.

Ocellus takes a breath and opts for something lighter. For Smolder's benefit. Just talking will be helpful, even if she doesn't go anyplace too deep.

"What?" Ocellus starts, almost forgetting to keep her voice down. "No I wasn't! I'm very sure I'd remember that."

Unless, Ocellus thinks, Smolder is pointing at my Smolder-disguise. Meaning that Smolder is saying she was there. But that would be a really odd thing to say. ...okay, Smolder was right. This is weird.

"I'm a bit surprised you don't, but then you were mostly asleep." Smolder smirks. Ocellus gives her a look.

"It was a week ago last Wednesday. You didn't come back to the room, so around midnight I went looking for you. You were in the first place I looked: the library. You'd been helping Gallus study for that big test in Headmare Starlight's class, and you spent so long on it you fell asleep. I found you with your head buried against his side like he was a big, feathery Gallus-pillow."

Ocellus feels the blush growing. She doesn't tease about the "a little" bit. She doesn't want to interrupt. And the cocoon of Smolder's love isn't leaving any question that Smolder was downplaying her feelings.

Smolder looks down. "I think Gallus was feeling a bit lonely. I mean, Yona's been going out with Sandbar for over a year. And now he sees the two of us. So unless he and Silverstream fall for each other..."

Ocellus sighs dramatically, putting the back of a claw on her forehead."No, no. Ship. Short for relationship. It means I can daydream about them in love."

Smolder stares blankly at Ocellus for several long seconds as she processes that, her mouth opening and closing twice without saying anything. "I suppose it's a given for changelings to be romantics."

The two friends are quiet for a few moments, watching the pseudoling squads shift position. Several patrols exit through the utility rooms, weaving their way into the Conservatory, but Pharynx keeps the bulkhead doors shut.

Ocellus wonders briefly about those doors. Why so much shielding between the essence pools and the Conservatory? She supposes it makes sense that Nightmare Moon would want to protect this place. Maybe the reason Queen Elytra's changelings haven't invaded it is because the room is also warded like the Throne Room?

"Anyway, Gallus asked why I fell for you. And how," Smolder finally continues. "I couldn't answer either of those, though. I don't know why or how. It just... happened."

A smile grows on Smolder's face. "But I could tell him why I'm the luckiest dragon ever!"

Ocellus listens intently. Like every changeling, she knows love doesn't always make sense, and that people don't pick who they fall in love with. (Although Smolder's realization probably came from a more wholesome place than a lecture by Chrysalis on Why We Don't Farm.)

Smolder's eyes widen. Then narrow. The dragon thrusts a claw at Ocellus, snorting a touch of flame. "No! That's still our secret!"

Ocellus feels herself smiling. She likes that being a secret between them. She knows their other friends would be okay with it. (Although Gallus would probably tease Smolder relentlessly.) But Smolder herself still isn't comfortable coming out of that closet to anyone else. And Ocellus finds that makes her feel special. The secret tea parties are their private thing.

Settling back down, Smolder reveals, "What I did tell him is that I hate mushy stuff. Dragons don't do mushy. On the list of pony holidays that dragons don't do, Hearts and Hooves Day is at the top."

"So how lucky am I that my heart feels like this for someone who can sense that? Someone who I never need to be mushy with because she already knows exactly how I feel?"

Smolder's eyes stare into the essence pools room, but focus on nothing. "I don't ever have to say things that I don't know how to say, or that might come out wrong, or that can get all messed up... because you know what I feel better than I can word..."

Ocellus can hear Smolder trying to find just the right way to express this. How ironic is it that right now she can't sense the love coming off of Smolder? But then, she doesn't have to. She is literally wrapped in it.

Smolder nods, a grateful look in her eyes. Then sighs. "Even this is something I wouldn't want to say except to you. I'm surprised I told Gallus. It could so easily sound like I chose you because it would be easy for me or something."

Ocellus understands. "But I know you didn't. Your love wouldn't taste true if you did."

The two sit in warm silence. Beyond the duct, Pharynx' army grows, preparing for battle.

"Nothing. You were already stirring from our voices. I really thought you heard us."

Ocellus remembers how quickly and with how much certainty she had realized Gallus knew how Smolder feels because Smolder had told him. "I think maybe I did subconsciously. But consciously I hadn't worked any of it out yet."

At Smolder's stare, Ocellus waves a claw. "Hey, I didn't have a conversation with Gallus while you snuggled cutely against him like he was a blue, fluffy Gallus-pillow."

Smolder snorts at her in mild frustration. "Your turn to tell me something that could be taken bad if we didn't know each other so well. That's how the Feelings Forum works, isn't it?"

Ocellus feigns wide-eyed surprise. "Smolder, you were paying attention when I was telling everyone about our Feelings Forum!"

"Not romantically attracted. Not then, I mean... I..." She stops, straightening the bookshelf of her thoughts so all the books are in proper order. "It was the first day of school. Thorax and I had flown directly to Ponyville. It was my first time outside the hive since we changed. The first time I'd been around that many non-changelings..."

The look of confusion in Smolder's face is gone. Her friend (girlfriend?) is clearly remembering that day too. Ocellus' voice drops to a Smolder-worthy mumble.

"...not counting when we attacked Canterlot, and love wasn't the emotion in the air then..."

Ocellus pauses as Smolder's eyes go wide. The dragon lifts a claw, then lowers it as she decides not to tangent. Still, Ocellus knows she will have to tell that story sooner or later.

Ocellus's voice returns to her normal whisper. "...and it was overwhelming. Not just the crowd, but the love. You have no idea how many creatures there actually loved getting to be at the school."

Or loved seeing their kids go. Or loved Princess Twilight. Or a dozen other flavors of love that just saturated the air that day.

Their eyes meet, identical amusement playing across their faces. As one, Smolder and Ocellus cough "Yona"!

"There was so much love in that room. Too much for me to handle. And it was everywhere, coming from all directions, except one." She looks into Smolder's eyes. "You were like an oasis. I needed to get closer to you. I was drowning."

"But you were a dragon! I knew ponies had invited us changelings, but I didn't know if a dragon would let a changeling even get close to her. So..."

Ocellus nods. She breaks the shared gaze, looking down at the vines covering the floor of the duct. "Not any particular dragon. Just... me, only dragon. But that's the only way I thought I could be near you."

Ocellus feels Smolder's tail wrap around her. After a moment of quiet, Smolder smiles and speaks up. "We've changed a lot since then. I love being at the school now."

She pauses, related thoughts from earlier in the night crashing in. "And I don't do that anymore. I've never changed into a griffin or a yak..."

She stops, realizing she was about to make two statements, neither of which are true: I've never changed into a hippogriff and I don't change just to be comfortable anymore. She did the first earlier today. For... reasons? And the confidence she had in the second crumbles away almost instantly as she remembers having turned into a dragon without realizing it. Or the times this year she has woken up in the wrong form, despite having told Smolder their first day rooming together that she never does that. How can she say those changes aren't for comfort when she doesn't even know why she's changing?

Ocellus blinks, taking a second to remember what she had just said before her train of thought derailed.

"I took the form of a hippogriff today," Ocellus admits to Smolder. "I don't even know why. I don't know why I didn't turn into a dragon. I needed to lift something heavy. A dragon would have been a better choice."

Ocellus can hear a note of worry creeping into her voice. Except when she is trying to amuse her friends, her transformations are always utilitarian. And she already had a dragon in her repertoire. Why did she create a whole new form, one that was less suited to the task? She hadn't even thought about it first.

"This was before you met Gallus, right?" Smolder susses. "When you thought you were alone up here."

Now it is Ocellus' turn to be confused. How did Smolder know that? And why does her friend seem absolutely not surprised at what she did?

"You were alone. Your friends were literally a world away. Of course you would," Smolder replies. "I get it."

Ocellus' head is full of confusion. Whatever Smolder is getting, she doesn't. She wants to ask: well, then could you explain it to me?

Before the young changeling can grow frustrated, Smolders puts a claw to her face. The dragon's eyes tell her that Smolder sees her confusion, and that Ocellus doesn't even have to ask.

Ocellus is surprised at the question. But she absolutely trusts Smolder is leading her where she needs to go. She thinks back. The first tea party was very simple and a bit awkward, and their conversations were pointless. Smolder had been nervous enough about just having a tea party, so they kept it shallow.

The second time, they talked about liking cute things. And that was when Smolder opened up more than she ever had before.

"It's not just that I'm a dragon and dragon society doesn't do cute. There's that, and that's enough to make liking cute things hard. But not to make admitting it a 'greatest fear'," Smolder tells her.

"It wasn't just my environment. I was taught that dragons don't like cute. By my parents. By Dragon Lord Torch..."

Ocellus remembers her surprise at that. She had never imagined the former Dragon Lord spending his time with young dragons, much less teaching Smolder. She was right not to, as Smolder told her.

"It was my first baby dragon hatching season... well, technically my second... and I made the mistake of calling the hatching dragons "cute". Dragon Lord Torch heard me -- it's the duty of the Dragon Lord to oversee hatching season -- and he really let me know my mistake. Dragons aren't cute. Dragons don't like cute. Dragons are fierce and strong. End of lesson."

Ocellus remembers how vulnerable Smolder looked, sitting there in her pretty dress, holding her tea. How quiet she had gotten.

Smolder's claw is still on her face. The dragon girl's voice has a softness Smolder reserves only for her. The touch of her claw seems impossibly gentle. "The first day of school? I was right there. I heard what he said to you."

Smolder sighs. Love and melancholy dance in her eyes. "You're still the only creature I feel comfortable being cute with. Before the Tree of Harmony made us face our fears? I would sometimes enjoy cute things when I was sure I was all alone. And even then, I felt guilty about doing so. Like I was a bad dragon."

"I think that when a big authority figure that you respect tells you something is wrong, you believe it. And even if you later learn it's okay, there's a part of you that doesn't. So you still don't do it. Or when you do, even though you know it is okay, part of you feels like you're doing something wrong. Something..." Smolder waves a paw, her words trailing off.

Ocellus feels revelation washing over her. She had no problems becoming a puckwudgie or a bat to try to make friends with critters, but that wasn't the same as taking a risk with the creatures close and dear to her. She never became a yak or a griffin... or a hippogriff until today. Because unlike becoming a seapony to save Yona from drowning, the situation never demanded it. And without that, she was uncomfortable taking her friends' forms. They would be fine with it. But she wouldn't, because part of her was irrationally afraid they wouldn't be. She didn't take their forms because...

The interrupting thought hits her like cold water. Oh. Oh wow. She wasn't just being afraid; she was being selfish.

Was her reluctance just part of her facade? Not only letting who she was be determined by how others felt towards her, but who she wasn't by fear of the same? Or was this part of who she really was? The elusive self she feels she has lost. If this is the real her, Ocellus doesn't think she likes herself.

Another thought strikes her, bringing a surge of guilt. "Except I did that with you. I was so desperate to be near you that I didn't care about being impolite."

Smolder shrugs. "That was then. You were in a bad situation, and you didn't know me. And now you do."

"Y-yes. And I still take that form. Because I know it's safe. I know you don't mind... that you kinda like me doing it, even."

"Don't be," Smolder admonishes warmly. "Ocellus, you are the only person I feel okay being cute with. The only friend who I can really be myself around. I'm happy that I could be your oasis. And I'm happy you can be yourself with me."

Ocellus feels no confidence for Smolder's assertion that she is "being herself". But maybe... maybe Smolder is right? And maybe it isn't so bad, or at least natural.

Smolder sits back, smirking. "For what?" She holds her arms wide. "I literally haven't told you anything you didn't already know."

Ocellus rolls her eyes again. Maybe subconsciously, or deep down, or something. But having the puzzle pieces isn't the same as a completed puzzle, especially when you don't know what the picture is supposed to be. Ocellus opens her mouth, intent on saying so...

Above the bulkhead doors, the ceiling and far wall of the essence pools room buckles. Cracks spiderweb through the stone. Arcane patterns and eldritch symbols of moonlight flare across every part of the room, from the walls and ceiling to the pipes and pool walls.

Ocellus realizes she was right. The essence pools room is warded. But they won't hold. The magical bulwark cannot withstand the Nightmare. Now she understands why the Nightmare didn't come after her immediately when it invaded the Conservatory. Queen Elytra created It for a second purpose. It is her ward-breaker.

Subtle flashes erupt across the arcane patterns as the wards burst and collapse. With an ear-piercing scream of abused metal and unspeakable horror, the Nightmare tears its way into the room, the queen riding high on Its back and a full hive of love-starved changelings swarming in around them.

The pseudolings immediately lift into defensive formations. Blasts of hateful crimson light meet lime-green collision barriers.

Ocellus kicks out the vent cover, not worried about adding a little noise to the cacophony of the battle.

Prey

by Kkat

Chapter 15: Feelings