Night falls on Canterlot.
The city is uncharacteristically silent because sleep is the last thing on the minds of ponies. Hospitals are overflowing, although thankfully even the worst of physical wounds are limited to deep bites or broken bones so far. Of course, that’s not to say that there aren’t victims of the changeling invasion, mostly the guards protecting the castle and ponies trampled by fleeing crowds. However, as the peacekeeping forces kept scouring the city throughout the day, it turned out that the invasion certainly wasn’t meant to kill ponies, whoever these creatures called ‘changelings’ were. The same thing, though, could not be said for the changelings they found.
The love wave crushed, burned, or simply punted the creatures away so hard that figuring out what the point of their attack was would be a difficult task due to the lack of survivors. So far, there are only a few clues - number one is the presumed changeling queen’s evil monologue about ‘feeding on love’, number two is the unbelievable extent of infiltration operations which preceded the invasion, and number three…
Luna puts the situation report down on her desk and looks backwards at her heavily padded and comfortable bed.
...clue number three is currently sleeping there, still hugging a plushie of her sister which Luna got after her return not to feel so alone during the first months.
As if feeling her eyes on it, the changeling twitches, lets out a buzzing yawn, opening its mouth wider than any pony ever could and showing a remarkably similar muzzle to a pony one barring the two rather small fangs in front, and looks around, stopping on Luna with an expression unreadable to the alicorn of the Night.
“Hmmm...” Luna purses her lips as an idea occurs to her. Those fangs aren’t unique to changelings, actually. The problem is that finding somepony she can trust not to divulge the fact that there’s a changeling in her suite might not be possible with the memories of the invasion still fresh in everypony’s mind.
With the changeling just silently sitting and watching her, Luna walks over and sits down on the opposite side of the bed not to scare the creature. Whether this is pointless or not is unclear as the changeling itself leans forward, carefully sniffing the air, before standing up, taking a step forward, and seemingly having no idea how soft things work.
***
The soft, sleeping rectangle gives way under 65536’s hooves, the drone loses its balance, and flops on the crumpled thick but also soft thing under which Blue was sleeping before. It tries to get up but everything around feels like filled with water and it keeps rolling around until something hard stops it.
Was everything this chaotic before 65536 went to sleep? It can’t recall.
Carefully turning around to face the hard thing steadying it, 65536 figures out that it’s Blue’s foreleg. A lifeline, hurray! Using it as support, the drone eventually defeats the overly soft sleeping rectangle under its hooves and manages to stand up on all fours, its stubby horn still barely reaching sitting Blue’s neck.
A memory rises through the haze covering its mind, one of a tall changeling with a long horn who was in charge. Blue isn’t her but she’s tall too and doesn’t seem mad at 65536 which, for a reason it can’t recall at the moment, she really should be. Also, her foreleg is firm but covered in something soft and fuzzy.
Hey, it’s like the small version of Blue that’s filled with love, the not-Blue. 65536 looks back at not-Blue, then at Blue, and again. The drone isn’t particularly hungry after resting in not-Blue’s presence but its instinct tells it to figure out whether it needs digging, whether it needs carrying somewhere else, or whether it’s edible.
Nom nom nom nom.
***
Luna raises an eyebrow as the changeling begins nibbling on her foreleg. As an alicorn, she’s heavily resistant to physical damage caused by non-divine means, but even without it she’s fairly certain the changeling isn’t trying to harm her.
So… what does any of this mean?
“What do We do with you?” she breathes out. The changeling immediately stops whatever it’s doing and looks up, “It’s hard to believe all the reports and witnesses of an army of creatures like you successfully attacked this city less than twenty-four hours ago. The reports said that you could speak. Maybe only some of you?”
The changeling keeps staring in silence, its mouth slightly open.
Luna touches her chest and says:
“Luna.”
Next, she touches the changeling’s chest. It nuzzles her foreleg in response. Luna tries again, slower and a little louder.
“Lu-na.”
Upon touching the changeling’s chest, it opens its muzzle, mouths something, pauzes, and starts opening and closing its mouth in complete silence for a few moments. Eventually, it sticks its tongue out, squints at it, and sighs. With its next look up at Luna, it shakes its head.
Luna smiles.
“So you do understand something and you can’t speak, hmm?” she pats the changeling’s head which makes it stop fidgeting and just lean into the patting, “Or maybe that’s not entirely correct either,” she frowns, “This is going to need some research, one which with all our duties We can’t do on our own. Unfortunately for you, the second you leave this room you’re going to get impaled on a spike, if you’re lucky, and We have no way of explaining this to you.”
Luna stands up and starts pacing back and forth, lost in planning. When she snaps back to reality, she stops and sees the changeling copying her. It stops after one more round, sits down, and looks up.
“Stay here,” she says. In light of no reaction, she pokes the changeling’s chest and then a spot on the floor. On the second attempt, it walks over there and sits down. Luna smiles, nods, and leaves.
The two Nightguards stationed at her door acknowledge her presence with a quick bow which she requites. Her relationship with the batponies is incomparable to her sister and the Royal Guards, so maybe she doesn’t have to be alone in this changeling research.
“Bring Sharp Biscuit here,” she orders, “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
***
65536 was asked to stay and guard this particular spot of the soft, tickly thing all over the floor... probably.
So it does. Drones know how to conserve energy.
What keeps creeping into its mind, though, is the idea that, for no reason 65536 can think of, Blue is supposed to be really mad at it. Something must have happened. After all, drones should be in cold, hard, jagged caves, digging or carrying eggs, not in warm albeit dark, smooth caves with many many soft things.
Soft things that definitely aren’t scary at all no matter how confused they make its legs! Things like the treacherous sleepy rectangle… all right one moment but made of pure confusion later.
65536 gives the sleepy rectangle a narrow-eyed glare filled with suspicion. At least it doesn’t seem to be able to go after the drone once it’s out of the rectangle’s overly soft clutches.
Bed.
Like a spark bursting into life, the mental fog inches away, revealing the sleepy rectangle’s name.
“Hah?!” the drone lets out a sharp gasp, its eyes lighting up for the briefest of moments before the knowledge fades, replaced by a headache that grows and grows and grows.
***
As Luna returns from her personal section of the castle vault with what looks like a simple silver necklace, the two Nightguards on shift are by her door again, though now accompanied by a third one - grey, purple-maned, and sinewy with golden eyes.
“I was hoping for a break tonight, Luna,” Sharp Biscuit gives the princess a soft smile which fades when she doesn’t return it, “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll show you,” her royal ‘We’ disappears as she cracks the door open and peeks inside before rushing in and slamming it behind herself.
“Luna?” Sharp knocks on the wood.
“A moment!”
She stops in front of the whimpering changeling twitching on the floor and covering its head with both forelegs.
“Hey!” she says quietly, touching its back. It doesn’t seem to register her at all, “Damn it, everything was fine when I left.”
She grits her teeth, her brain looking overtime for potential problems and solutions. One, the changeling shot through a magically sealed and physically reinforced double door and was physically unharmed. Two, after some rest it seemed okay. Three, she left. Four, she returned and now it’s clearly in pain.
Source of the problem? Unknown.
Solution? Unknown.
Well done, brain. You have to try harder to earn tonight’s cake.
After the changeling landed here, it ignored her and cuddled up with the plush of her sister.
The report mentioned their queen speaking about invading Canterlot because of love.
She replaced Cadance and fed on her husband-to-be’s love. In the end, she was powerful enough to face Celestia’s self-imposed power limitation and admitted it was because of the love she stole.
It was to feed. Feeding means to be healthy.
Luna has been sleeping with the plushie every single day since her return. She levitates mini-Celestia and puts it next to the squirming changeling.
Its heavy breathing slows down shortly after it pulls the plush into a vice-like grip. Luna waits a little longer and, to her surprise, the changeling stumbles back into a sitting position, swaying slightly. It looks around, brows furrowed, gasps, and shuffles back to the exact spot where Luna pointed before leaving, pulling the plushie along by its leg in its mouth.
As if nothing happened, it looks at the princess, although she can see its forehead twitching slightly along with mild swaying of its entire body.
A migraine? I had episodes like this after my return, having to read everything regarding the current state of Equestria with Nightmare’s influence untangling from me. Anyway, quick thinking, brain. Cake reward earned.
Luna walks over to the door, peeks outside, and beckons Sharp Biscuit in. He enters, looks at the sitting changeling hugging the white plushie with easily visible stains of green drool, and closes the door while saying:
“This didn’t happen, guards.”
The batponies salute as one.
“Yes, Commander!”
Inside, Sharp Biscuit taps his hoof against the floor, saying something very smart like the level-headed and intelligent batpony that he is:
“Huuuuh...”
“Yep,” Luna nods.
“It doesn’t look particularly dangerous. On the other hoof, looking isn’t the way to measure anything regarding a creature that can supposedly transform into anything.”
“My thoughts exactly, and I can’t waltz it into the laboratory in the dungeons and start doing experiments. I’m already neglecting my dreamwalking tonight.”
“And you are worried that it will attack you while you’re asleep, I take it?”
“Sharp, it crashed through my door, my protective spells, and it didn’t notice me repeatedly smacking its face with a rolled-up newspaper. Then it fell asleep in my bed with me still in it. As far as its motives are concerned, I have no stars-damned clue. Were you up for the attack?”
“I was. There was little to no strategy, just an incredible mass of bodies pushing through all of us. Speaking of which, if you need several… or several thousand samples, I can just ask. Both upper and lower Canterlot are filled with them, crushed, burned, or killed in the aftermath of the love explosion.”
“Can you find any alive ones?” Luna raises an eyebrow, “I found this little one rolling on the floor with what looked to me like a splitting headache. I’d like one in a shape to talk, preferably.”
“With Paladins using everything at their disposal to do the same and do some ‘righteous purging’, as they say? We’re batponies, not unicorns.”
Luna sighs.
“There’s no talking to those fanatics...”
“You tell me,” Sharp Biscuit rolls his eyes, “Two years since your return and they still walk through our floors of the castle with garlic necklaces and, for reason I can’t understand, wooden crosses.”
“I still want you to give finding surviving changelings a try.”
“Of course, Luna. Do you mean me personally?”
“No, find Nightguards you can trust with this. If I wanted somepony to find a live changeling who would then ‘die of its wounds’ even if said wound was a stubbed hoof, I’d ask a Royal Guard unicorn. You’re going to stay here and keep an eye on us. My duties can’t remain neglected for long. The dream realm gets messy very quickly.”
“Give me an hour, Luna. I think I’ve got an idea.”