//------------------------------//
// – 18: “Moondust and Diamond Dancers” – 
// Story: Sparity Shipping Mega Epic 
// by Mareity 
//------------------------------//

Twilight’s ripening orange sun was just halfway to setting behind the misty forest bordering the crater-as-was surrounding the Changeling Hive, as most everycreature in the area gathered for the grand debut of Ocellus’ newest stage play in the amphitheatre a little way away from their home. Long shadows cast across its concave ovoid, drained and properly sculpted following its former life as an acid pit during Chrysalis’ reign, as the air grew thick with a colourful crowd of Hive denizens, arriving unevenly upon the steps and seats around the white sand at the base where the main event was due to proceed. The sunset’s glow belied the definite drop in temperature from the daylight warmth, but the merriment to be had was expected to compensate for that.

Spike and Rarity arrived by wing and hoof, respectively. Solo, Spike could have joined the swarm above, but as reluctant to leave his special somepony in the dust as he was he’d remained mostly earthbound for her benefit; gliding downwards with her in tow as he had during their hike in the late morning was one thing, but taking her high into the air was a bigger ask his arms would soon tire of.

Therefore he flew beside Rarity as changelings, mostly in their default “sparklebug” forms, soared aloft by a few dozen feet, obscured slightly by the evenfall brume before descending upon their destination. Nightfall brought a corresponding drop in temperature, so Rarity had changed outfit, and her manestyle out of the ponytail she’d touted across the height of the daylight hours once they’d both retired to their chambers into something closer to her usual look. While she’d kept the ear and hind leg clasps she’d adorned herself with during the early hours, now she wore besides a black sequinned dress that exposed her shoulders and back and accentuated her rear end where it did cover her, Spike couldn’t help noticing, along with a pair of blue, glittering heels upon her front hooves and a small, matching, buckled satchel slung over her neck and right side, looking very ready for a night at the opera.

Spike, meanwhile, wore a sapphire-blue velvet bow tie just above the ambassador’s medallion that hung down his chest, an accoutrement Rarity had accosted him with the second he’d opened his cell door. He’d put up minimal resistance as she’d tied it around his neck while informing him at length how handsome it made him look, and honestly, she wasn’t wrong in his estimation. He looked down and gave it a quick tug with a smirk, quietly admiring it as she craned her neck, looking upwards with big eyes at the magnificent display in the fall air, and she gasped as she trotted along.

‘My, my… they look so beautiful against the sunset like this,’ she observed, ‘This isn’t unlike watching the Great Dragon Migration, don’t you think?’

Spike looked up from his clothing, such as it was, and exhaled. ‘They sure do, although maybe without the firebreathing and fighting.’

She raised an eyebrow at his tone of voice, before raising both as she felt she’d made a minor but specific error. ‘Oh, ah, I didn’t mean it like that, precious! You know I think dragonflight is quite the sight to behold… just, ah, maybe not too up-close sometimes. Anyway, Ember largely keeps the more unruly ones in line nowadays, and that’s all rather irrelevant to you personally, you sweet thing. I love you as you are, and as whatever you will be, sweetheart.’

He smiled, a thin smile that she returned with an understanding gaze. ‘Aw, I know all that, Rare, but it’s still nice to hear. I love you too, but I’m… I just feel weird about earlier, just a bit. Thorax sent me a scroll after we returned to our cells saying he’d had words with Chitin, but he didn’t elaborate much. We’ll meet him at the play, though – man, as guests of honour we get to sit right next to the bug himself for the whole show! Looking forward to it?’

Her curls bounced as she pranced for a moment. ‘Of course I am, darling! Ah, partly from the anticipation of seeing my own hoofwork in action, but I want to see Ocellus’ script in full motion! The extras weren’t present during the rehearsal, after all, and I'm assured their coordinated efforts lend a great deal of dazzle to the endeavour. My understanding is that half the Hive is technically involved one way or another, unless I’m mistaken?’

‘Something like that. Changelings volunteer to act as props and extras as needed ahead of time, so yeah, participation’s the name of the game for the front rows,’ said Spike, landing on the ground with a slight stumble that stabilised into a walk beside Rarity, ‘Although it’s the troupe who are the real focus, and just a few of them can play multiple parts. For everybug else it’s just fun to transform into stuff they otherwise wouldn’t. Kind of an outlet, y’know? Anyway, Thorax typically doesn’t participate unless it’s an exceptional occasion, so we’ll be in his usual spot halfway up the theatre steps. Not too far away but not too near.’

The pair approached the congregating crowd as they spoke, what must have been a few hundred chattering changelings in the process of finding their seats, largely on one side of the round theatre aside from the front rows, which were quite populated with excited extras, all ready to hit the stage.

‘Almost there, Spikey,’ said Rarity, ‘Ah, do take my hoof as we locate the king? I’d rather not get lost amidst all this activity!’

‘Gladly, Rare,’ Spike chortled as she extended her hoof towards him, taking it in his claw with a gentle but firm grip as he hovered once more in an effort to see where he was going amongst the amassing throng. He led her through the swarm and downwards from the upper rim of the amphitheatre that they’d familiarised themselves with when visiting earlier, stopping at a hot dog cart whose presence could be keenly smelt, loaded with herbs and sauces and onions equal to its processed meat contents. Spike took a corndog in his free claw while Rarity plumped for the salad and dandelion sub, the former on a stick and the latter neatly wrapped in a paper napkin, each one bit apiece. Spike tucked into his straight away, while Rarity sheathed hers inside her bag for later.

As they proceeded from there Rarity graciously received a free programme from a bright green usher, who happily allowed her to levitate it alongside her sandwich into her purview as they kept moving. She glanced at its cover as she slowed up a bit on a slightly less crowded part of the descending granite slope, and Spike slowed likewise before turning to face her, his claw twisting in her hoof before letting go as he did so.

‘“Moondust and Diamond Dancers”,’ he read with a mouth half-full of fried maggot meat from the back of the leaflet she was inspecting, scanning the elaborate cover image of changelings, ponies and rabbits waltzing in a musical spiral from the moon down to Equestria as a dirigible hovered in the background. He swallowed and wiped his face with his wrist before continuing, ‘’Scuse me. That’s a really nice painting on the cover. Somebug’s got talent!’

‘Why, yes, I was just thinking that very think,’ said Rarity, peering over the top at him after a moment’s read of its interior, ‘Apparently Boscis has quite the artistic streak in more than just acting; it’s one of his. Ocellus told us over breakfast this morning that he painted it a few moons back and she was inspired enough to write some songs for it, and everything else followed from that. The programme actually contains the lyrics for the audience to follow. Ah, the central cast is printed here too, but the collective songs and dances by the Hive at large are the real centrepiece.’

‘She told you that about Boscis? I don’t remember…’ Spike enquired, racking his mind before recalling with a grin, ‘Oh, right, I wasn’t there ’cuz I slouched off to get pampered first thing, heh. Well, I’ve heard the songs once through from when we came over here for lunch,’ he continued, giving his corndog another nibble, ‘And I definitely enjoyed ’em just in rehearsal. The full performance is gonna be sweet!’

She flapped the programme shut with a glow of her horn, then popped it into the small sparkling bag hanging off her neck. ‘It certainly will be that, darling. Now, let’s get to Thorax already. He must be getting impatient waiting for us!’

Spike took Rarity’s hoof with a flap of his wings once more, and they moved through the crowd to where a more flattened section of steps was indeed around halfway down for the accommodation of the king and some of his attendants, most of whom were sitting or mooching around, generally resting their hooves on the polished granite and lollygagging in piles of three or four after a long day. Spike recognised the bespectacled, lilac one currently closest to Thorax with a quill and a long parchment she was adding more to by the second.

The throng perked up and, several of them chirping their carapaces in welcome, moved out of the way as Spike and Rarity approached, better to allow them into the inner circle. ‘Hey Thorax, hey Scribophilia, everybug else,’ Spike said, letting go of Rarity’s hoof again as he waved his half-eaten corndog around, ‘We’re not late, are we? We stopped to grab some junk on the way.’

‘H-hey, both of you,’ Thorax said, his wings chirping also, but not altogether as perkily as he had while covered in changeling grubs back outside the feelings forum earlier in the day. He patted the step he was sitting upright upon as he continued, ‘Take a seat. No, you’re both well in time, actually. Once the sun’s completely set they’ll begin.’

‘Ah, so good to see you again, oh King, and during such a beautiful eveningtide. Quite, ah, autumnal,’ Rarity breathed, looking Thorax up and down with a wry smile as she popped a round, patterned sheet out of her bag before placing it where she intended to take her place next to Spike, ‘I see you’ve shed your sweater. In the wash after the forum, I presume?’

He tugged on the bandana she’d also gifted him, which still hung around his long neck, then smiled as he leaned downwards to address the little dragon and pony, who were both now well within range for that necessity. ‘Well, you saw it. Grubs might love their uncle Thorax, but they’re also Tartarus-bent on ruining his clothes one way or another. I probably shoulda taken it off before heading to nurture and wellness but I wanted to wear it where you could see it, Rarity! I know how much you like to see your work in action!’

Scribophilia looked up from her notes with a straight face as Rarity raised a hoof to her mouth and chuckled demurely in response to that. ‘King Thorax left it in the licker lockers beneath the Hive, Rarity. By my deduction it’s probably pristine by now, cleansed ahead of the evening’s entertainment. All “baby barf”, so-called, will have been washed back into the love mix. All very efficient, and sterile once processed,’ she said in a smooth, measured voice.

Spike interjected somewhat vaguely, ‘The love mixer, yeah… I missed the tour the other day to hang out with you, Thorax. Uh, my understanding is that it’s kinda like a sewer, but technicolour and actually pretty clean instead of super-poopy? If nothing else, changelings working there seem not to mind being around the stuff for long periods.’

‘It’s more of a refinery or a recycling plant if anything, Spikey,’ Rarity explained from memory, ‘Various waste goes in, has the impurities extracted in these bubbling pools Pharynx told us contain a diluted version of the acids that used to be everywhere around these parts before harnessed for their current purpose, and then converted into fertiliser and nectar. It’s all quite fascinating, and as you said, a tad psychedelic to be around for long.’

‘Well remembered. Almost exactly like my notes on the matter, technical vocabulary aside. Impressive!’ Scribophilia nodded, having listened to that intently.

‘Yeah, and unlike one of your Equestrian sewers, the guys down there love to get stuck in,’ said Thorax, ‘It’s an important part of our ecosystem these days, really! It’s only taken form as a thing the past year or so, but it turns out us changelings have a natural talent for reusing every part of the worm, so to speak.’

‘Ah, that’s the power of love, Thorax darling,’ Rarity smiled, before looking down to her side at her favourite little dragon, who had taken to gently leaning against her, trying not to make rubbing his face against her fur too obvious. Her smile broke into a giggle as she said, ‘Spikey, sweetheart, are you certain you can see the stage from down there? By the time everybug’s present you might need a little boost!’

‘I’m actually weighing my options since you mention it, Rare. Your back or Thorax‘s antlers, hmm…’ Spike pondered as he sat upright, exaggerating with his chin pressed against his thumb and foreclaw, glancing between the two for a moment before making the call, ‘Thorax, don’t get me wrong, you’re the best seat in the house, but I hope you won’t be offended if I stick to my special somepony this evening… I mean, if she doesn’t mind.’

Rarity wrapped a foreleg around Spike, pulling him closer with a gently flush, half-lidded smile. ‘Of course I wouldn’t, you charmer,’ she sighed, ‘Just, well, you know how to behave when you’re riding my back by now; just mind my curls with that snack you’re holding.’

‘After the feelings forum this afternoon, I’m hardly surprised by that choice, and I’m not gonna argue,’ Thorax laughed. then suddenly sobered up much to the effect of when Spike and Rarity had approached him a few moments ago. ‘Uh, Scribophilia, I’d like a word with Spike and Rarity about Chitin. Maybe now’s a good time to go down to the stage and take minutes around there as usual?’

Scribophilia took the hint. ‘No problem, my king. I’ll be back before we begin, but it is in everybug’s interests to take a record of events,’ she said, taking a moment to roll up her long list before flying down to where Elytron and Ocellus were discussing something under a dim firefly-fuelled spotlight near the centre of the theatre. As darkness descended, the lights were just starting to be set by ushers ahead of the performance, now rather than later to allow the fireflies time to warm up ahead of ceremonies.

Spike watched her long tail of paper follow with her as she left with amusement. ‘Scribophilia, I love you but you will log everything I say and I’d rather you didn’t right this second…’ Thorax breathed as he too watched her go, ‘Uh, I sent you that message about Chitin, didn’t I, Spike?’ he asked as he turned to him and Rarity, broaching the topic once he was confident she was out of earshot.

‘You sure did, but you weren’t – oooop!! – specific,’ said Spike, interrupted for a second as Rarity separated him from his corndog, placed it onto the napkin he’d been supplied at the food cart, then lifted him onto her bare upper back and shoulders with a sparkle of her horn, ‘I noticed she’s conspicuous by her absence. What happened, exactly?’

Thorax winced, looking over towards the stage as he formulated his response. ‘Yeah, Chitin is grounded for the remainder of you guys’ visit,’ he answered after a long pause, ‘Not a decision I’ve taken lightly, believe me. And not so much for her outburst at the forum, although that wasn’t great… but I thought I was pretty clear about not intruding on visitors, secretly or not. As it stands she gave me the runaround until I got Pharynx involved, and he found her swinging off the ceiling of the halls near your rooms pretending to be a chandelier.’

Spike looked to where Thorax appeared to be quietly gazing, noticing the longer shadows cast in the orange-purple light by the audience, a colourful throng of wings and carapaces now mostly gathered on the steps below, their mass thickening around the oval stage where ceremonies were soon to occur. ‘Really? That can’t be good. Didn’t she say she saw me and Rarity… y’know… out above the valley?’

‘She let that slip pretty loudly at the forum, yeah… but what clinched it was, what she didn’t tell everybug was that it wasn’t a chance encounter. Pharynx and I did the, uh, good-bug bad-bug routine? Just to get to the bottom of her behaviour… turns out she spent the morning when nocreature knew where she was, trailing the both of you. You probably didn’t notice a stone with eyes near the crag the two of you were, uh, “massaging” on?’

Spike inhaled through his fangs as he steadied himself by holding onto Rarity’s lower neck and shoulders, with his knees pressed against her sides; Rarity wasn’t so easy to ride when she was sitting to attention like she currently was, but even like this he didn’t dare make contact with her mane. ‘Geez, so she was outright spying on us after we left the Hive? I thought she was above stuff like that.’

‘So did I, Spike, so did I, but she’s not been dealing great with the nuances of the situation we’re in… I fear she’s dedicated herself to gaining half a story, then filling the blanks with assumptions,’ said Thorax in a low voice, ‘She’s more sensitive than she let on to love stuff and it’s probably a reaction to the difficulties she’s experienced around the two of you in the past couple of days. Sure, you two cleared the air at the forum this afternoon and everybug present was cool with it, but Chitin arrived in the aperture after you two and, uh, the burgeoning actors, Sandbar and Yona I mean, started to get all lovey-dovey? When Pharynx pressed her she said she expected that to escalate to another “massage” without an intervention. Needless to say, she wasn’t happy about what she saw while observing you both.’

While her face had been stoney-straight as Thorax had been explaining, the corners of her mouth curled upwards as Spike’s claws gripped her neck gently. ‘You say that as if it’s a euphemism, Thorax sweetheart. It really was just that and nothing more, but with an, ah, with an unexpected twist at the end, one might say,’ she said before reclining forwards for Spike’s benefit, ‘A mite unfortunate that she saw that happen, we were trying to exercise a modicum of discretion… that was the whole reason we left the Hive, for all of your goods while we spent time together!’

Thorax raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s really not what Chitin said… Spike, not that I don’t believe Rarity, but can you back that up?’

Spike nodded. ‘Sure can. We just… well, one thing led to another, yeah, but nothing like that.’

‘Quite. We mutually elected to cease such activities after I, ah, eheh,’ said Rarity, failing not to blush at the recollection, ‘After Spike’s massage sent me into overdrive, shall we say. I swear, nothing more happened.’

‘Hmm…’ Thorax looked at them both closely, first into Rarity’s penetrating sapphire eyes and then to Spike’s earnest, furrowed brow. He inhaled before deciding, ‘Alright, I believe you. Either way, neither of you need worry, I’ve sentenced her to mandatory attendance at the feelings forum along with cell arrest until you’ve all left,’ he explained, ‘Scribophilia has been picking up the slack so far, Counsellor Freelove will visit her tomorrow for a wellbeing check, and Pharynx is keeping guard in the meantime; he doesn’t mind missing the show. That guy can take or leave stuff like this, although I do like when he can make the time and we can just chill out, watch the show and eat garbage.’

Rarity chuckled, remembering her own similar attitude towards attending The Running of the Leaves a couple of moons ago, but Spike piped up before she could make the reference herself. ‘Yeah, sometimes showing up is enough, just for the company. Rarity and I got to know each other a little better when she showed up to the races around Ponyville a while back, and she had the temerity,’ he snorted as he said that word, ‘To say she was only along for the picnicking!’

‘As I recall, the whole endeavour ended in tears, precious-scales, and I do not mean the entanglement of all the racers at its end. But we did have a lovely time with the girls and Discord, and I certainly enjoyed your presence,’ she said, craning her neck behind her as Spike, now comfortable upon her back, gave her a caress under her jaw, ‘And we were able to salvage the occasion afterwards… ah, yes,’ she murmured, reared and tossed her mane as he did that, then inhaled as she sobered slightly, ‘Ooh…! Spikey-Wikey, not that I don’t enjoy that, but perhaps this isn’t the occasion, sweetheart? We may have defused the tension earlier, but we still must remain appropriate in mixed company.’

‘Right, right, boundaries, ceasing the untoward, sorry, force of habit…’ Spike snickered, sliding his claw back over her ear before planting it upon her shoulder, ‘True, I was a bit too bold that day, but it got your attention, Rare. Means to an end!’

She sniffed, then smiled. ‘I suppose it accelerated certain inevitabilities a little the day following, but no matter. Ultimately I don’t regret what happened, even if it wasn’t the clearest path either of us could have taken… our love found its way regardless, didn’t it?’ Then she looked away from Spike, at the changelings surrounding them at large, then at Thorax. She didn’t see anything untoward besides a few who were fairly obviously inhaling a hearty dose of their output, but nonetheless she asked, ‘Ah, we are still well to be like this whilst around your changelings, Thorax darling? Just making certain.’

‘Love is good for the Hive, Rarity, that was never the issue,’ Thorax answered, having lightened up considerably, blushing at the pair’s exchange, ‘But repression causes, ah, toxic fluctuations we can do without, some bugs more than others. Um, you realise that you are super-cute together, right?’ he continued, his voice cracking, ‘Seeing two creatures in love like you makes my hearts sing… and you cast those fluctuations aside like pros once you realised there was a problem, before even I’d really gotten it straight. As the king of all changelings in my domain, I dare proclaim  you’ve got chemistry together, and that’s fantastic.’ He couldn’t suppress a giggle as he caught himself making such a grand declaration about such a small thing, regardless of how ironic his intended tone had been.

Spike cast him a sardonic grin right back as he dug his claws into Rarity’s fur a little more tightly, herself sitting upright. ‘Heh, ponies and griffons alike said I was super-cute with my old griffriend, but I don’t think you ever met Gabby, Thorax? I never brought her out this way, anyway; I asked her to come when I visited last summer, but she couldn’t get the time off work ahead of the Festival of the Two Sisters.’

The king scrunched his mandibles. ‘Uh, I have, just the one time in Ponyville, I think,’ he said, ‘She seemed, uh… like a nice girl…!’ After trailing off, he eagerly cast that topic aside as the lanterns lining the slopes between the amphitheatre steps started to light up, sequentially from the now-illuminated stage itself upwards to the rim, ‘Oh, would you look at that! Everycreature pay attention, the sun’s gonna set pretty soon and that’s when it’s go time!’

Then a crashing noise, a “meep!” and no small amount of chirping came from one of the heaps of attendants nearby, and Thorax sat bolt upright and looked around hesitantly. ‘Uh, mind if I just go check on my changelings for a bit? Once the show starts I’ll be rooted to the spot here, so I’d like to take care of… stuff. I’ll trot back when Scribophilia returns.’

‘By all means, Thorax. Don’t let us distract you from your Hive,’ Rarity smiled.

Spike nodded, adding, ‘No problem, my good bug, I know you have duties. See you soon.’

Once he was away, Rarity gave her curls a quick sweep with a hoof before briefly licking her lips. ‘Looks like now’s a good time to tuck in, then, while it’s just the two of us,’ she said, producing her wrapped-up submarine sandwich from her satchel, then looking behind to Spike, ‘I am rather ready for a bite. Shall I pass you your snackette, Spikey, or would you rather wait?’

Spike surprised her by vaulting off of her shoulders suddenly with a single flap of his wings, then landing back by her side. ‘I thought you’d never ask, Rare! Uh, I’ll eat it here and not on your back. You probably don’t want ketchup on you,’ he said, picking it off the napkin she’d laid it upon by its stick before sitting down and giving it a sniff, ‘Though I need to watch myself in case I get some on my bow tie, or the medallion. Ah, fried bug meat, an exotic delicacy indeed. You just don’t get stuff like this back in Equestria. I don’t suppose you’d like any, would you?’ he asked, anticipating her refusal, ‘Ponies eat seafood sometimes. The bugs they ground up for this are basically that, just not from outta the sea!’

‘I have my hooves full with my own culinary choice, darling,’ said Rarity, her sandwich raised to her lips, ‘Though when you put it that way, it sounds slightly less revolting to me now than it did at the start of the week. Nevertheless, I must decline… I feel like I’m a mite overdressed for fast food like that.’

Spike nodded, not minding that he had the whole thing to himself. She took a munch out of her sandwich, and Spike necked much of his corndog in a single bite in turn before wiping his mouth with his wrist. ‘Eh, pigging out on two corndogs in one day means I’m eating like a pony tomorrow for sure, but these are so good I’m not sleeping on ’em while they’re available. Your dress looks awesome, by the way,’ he said in a lower voice once he’d swallowed, ‘And if you don’t mind my say-so, it fits very nicely. Uh, I mean the silky black against your white fur, and, uh… uh, I shouldn’t go on…’ he bit his lip and blushed in embarrassment, grinding a heel against the granite floor and feeling that was an inappropriate line of discussion so soon after her earlier admonishment.

Rarity didn’t mind, although she blushed likewise as she continued for him, one hoof raised. ‘Well, you frequently say I look wonderful wearing anything, my darling. Am I to understand that what you truly mean by that is that my, ah, physical profile is to your liking in general, or have I gained the wrong idea?’ she chuckled, feigning ignorance while maintaining her usual aura of superiority.

Spike looked her up and down, just to confirm in the moment what he’d been aware of since she’d met him in the Hive’s basement. Rarity looked at him with wide eyes and that particular smile she casually wore, one that didn’t meet her eyes but which nonetheless lent her a pacific, joyous aura of positive anticipation. She sat beside him and he drank in the rest of her – her downy chest fluff was visible above her sleek black dress’ low neckline, with a cascading diamond necklace the only other cover over the thin fur of her bare neck.

Going further, the back he’d just alighted was as soft and firm as ever, with her curls streaming down just enough to sweep her upper back, and from here he could see the fabric of where the negative v-shape tapered off at its small, and her perfectly-coiffed tail sprouting outward from further behind. The sheer fabric of her silken dress clung to her, slightly loose on her underside but taut against her hips, flanks and belly, making a real meal out of the curvature of her lower body before revealing her hind legs just above her knees. The navy-blue triple-diamond sequins in its fabric along with the facets of her necklace sparkled beneath the lanternlight as she shifted slightly in her blue heels, making his love resemble the precious gem she was to him all the more. The clasps she’d been wearing for most of their visit completed the look, silver as the moon that was just about peeping through an overhead cloud, itself pink in the dimming daylight.

He glanced away from her body, back to her expectant gaze. ‘Nope, you have completely the right idea, Rarity,’ he stated simply with a straight face, popping what was left of his corndog into his mouth before continuing, ‘You’re a knockout no matter what… and looking at you takes my breath away. Not that it’s the only thing I like about you, of course…!’ he inhaled through his teeth.

Her smile broadened across her entire face, and she leaned close to him. ‘Spikey-Wikey, you’ve never known me to be offended by a sincere compliment, and I shan’t start now. I do endeavour to look fabulous, after all, and it’s nice to have confirmation of it from my lovely little dragon companion,’ she said, before kissing him on the cheek with an audible smack.

He laughed again, touching his cheek, for certain now adorned with a glossy lipstick imprint. ‘Well, in that case, I’ll just call you “simply divine”, to borrow your own phrase, then leave it for now. We’re gonna have plenty of time for compliments later, but the show’s about to start for real,’ said Spike, before inspecting his claws, ‘You brought your hoofkerchief with you in that bag, right? I’m not real saucy after that, but better safe than sorry.’

‘Perhaps not physically saucy, sweetheart, but…’ Rarity almost chuckled, then bit her lip affectionately as she left that thought behind. She leaned forth and whipped out a pack of moist wipes she’d had stowed inside her bag, ‘Well, I remembered while getting dressed for the play that I’d brought these, but I've barely used them all week. Take one rather than sullying my good hoofkerchief twice today, darling!’ she said blithely as she extracted two attached to one another, separating them before floating one into Spike’s outstretched claws. ‘Once you’re done, feel free to hop back onto me.’

‘Good thinking. I guess twice in one day is kinda taking advantage,’ Spike admitted, taking the antiseptic white sheet and rubbing it between his palms, then between his digits. He contemplated washing his face before deciding against it; that kiss was staying put for the proceedings, he determined. As he finished and disposed of the tissue in a trashcan close to the amphitheatre slope, he looked towards the centre stage and saw a certain purple bug make her return over the murmuring front rows, ‘Sorry about that. Oh, Scribophilia’s on her way back. Dare say the show’s definitely about to start.’

She indeed descended a few seconds later with an audible “flap” of parchment as she landed, deliberately on her front tiphooves before planting all fours onto Thorax’s deserted space, just as Rarity had bitten off a mouthful of her sandwich. ‘King Thorax! I’m back with a fully logged documentation of the number of registered extras, an estimate on the changelings present overall and the precise number of transformations necessary by the main cast for the choreography to function! Besides that, Dearlove instructed me to– ah, where’d he go? Rarity?’

Rarity shook her head, reluctant to speak with a faceful of food and saliva, so Spike took the lead. He jabbed a thumb where several giggling changelings had subsumed their king, though he didn’t mind – Thorax was laughing too as they, adults to a bug, clambered around on him. ‘Looks like he got himself mixed up in a bugpile again… you know, I’m sure he lets his guard down on purpose, even if he won’t admit it. Need a claw extricating him from that?’

Scribophilia turned to look as Spike explained, then sighed. ‘Chitin usually takes care of such situations, but I believe I’ve got this,’ she said before shoving her long stream of notes towards Spike, then buzzing towards the less-than-dignified royal scene, ‘Be two ticks. King Thorax, the show’s about to begin! All of you, stop sitting on our monarch, for bug’s sake!’

Rarity swallowed her mouthful, faintly embarrassed at being caught off-guard like that, then giggled as Spike spun around in a circle, trying and failing critically not to become mummified in the ream of chickenscratch that had just been thrust upon him. ‘Oh, sweetheart, you’re just making it worse… hold still,’ she said, and as Spike tried not to fall over she located the end and unravelled him with a sparkle of her horn. He spun a few times in the opposite direction before falling onto his rump with an “oof!”, then dusted himself off before giving the end of the scrawl a quick but close squint.

He snorted, unperturbed by his fall. ‘Hah, somehow I don’t think Thorax needs to know what Dearlove’s instruction was. It’s kinda rude!’ he laughed.

Rarity stood properly, lending a hoof to Spike as he pulled himself to his feet with her support. ‘My apologies, precious, I should be a mite more delicate than that,’ she said, nonetheless unable to suppress a chuckle as she magically waved her half-eaten meal around like a baton, ‘Are you all OK?’

Spike took the opportunity to roll the long tract up as best he could with a roll of his bright eyes, before looking up at her. ‘I’m good, but man, wish she hadn’t done that. I’ve been logging a few things while we’ve been visiting, it’s part of the job, but by and large having a huge mess of notes piled onto me is the kind of thing I leave Canterlot to get away from,’ he said, not entirely seriously, ‘I mean, Twilight’s gotten her listmania in check a lot since getting all princessy, but once in a while I still get it in the neck…’

‘Speaking of necks, Thorax should be back momentarily,’ Rarity observed. They both looked over to where Scribophilia had just about unearthed Thorax from beneath an avalanche of his own subjects. He stood, and with a huge grin and a shake and one bend of his long neck each side his carapace fluttered open as he followed Scribophilia back to his place.

‘Well, that was invigorating,’ Thorax chirruped, smoothing his crumpled bandana, taking his place next to the pair as Spike handed the rolled-up paper back to Scribophilia, ‘Uh, you probably know the details about recreational bugpiles and transfer of affection between changelings. I just got an impromptu love infusion from Honeyoak and his boys; said they could tell Chitin’s absence was bugging me a bit, and, well, they weren’t wrong. I believe you acquainted yourself with them yesterday, Rarity?’

‘Welcome back, Thorax darling. Ah, the stag drone? Yes, I received rather a pleasant limbering up of my joints at the mud pools from him and a couple others yesterday evening,’ Rarity recalled, ‘Large fellows to a bug, but deft of hoof for sure. I commend their work.’

Spike chuckled as Thorax took the compliment on their behalves, ‘Yeah, you told me. I know I’m your preferred masseur, though,’ his smile widened as Rarity raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, in disapproval though not in denial, ‘Uh, not that I didn’t get the message to keep my claws to myself right now… can I climb back on you now, Rare? I’m as pristine as you are now, promise.’

‘Why, of course,’ Rarity nodded, her expression pleasant but still straight, ‘Feel free to hold onto me, just none of that if you don’t mind… just pay attention and keep the petting to a minimum, Spikey-Wikey. After all, that is why I made the offer in the first place; so you could watch alongside me, not for tickle time!’

She snickered as she finished that thought, and Spike gently put a digit to her lips for a second. ‘Don’t tempt me with a refusal, Rare,’ he said with a devious look in his eyes, before taking to the air, swooping upwards for a moment as Rarity and the changelings present looked aloft, watching him flip backwards in flight, performing a swift full-body turn before slowing himself just above her. He wasn’t so fast that she was unprepared; she flattened her back and shoulders in anticipation of his landing, and with one last flap he planted himself just right, his pointy tail flush with the exposed line of her back, claws on the back of her neck and his head roughly level with hers.

‘Oop! Ah, a very good landing there, darling,’ Rarity uttered, turning her neck a little to address him, ‘Not too heavy, either. You know, perhaps I should have packed a saddle that matches this dress for your benefit, but, well, hindsight and all…’

Thorax raised a hoof to his mouth and grinned. ‘I don’t think Spike minds, somehow,’ he said, inhaling, ‘Nor yourself, from what I’m detecting. Anyway,’ he lowered his voice as the hubbub started to quieten, ‘Look up… the sun’s almost completely down.’

Spike raised his claw to his own lips this time. ‘Shh! Any second now!’ he said, to himself more than to anycreature else.

The long shadows from a short while ago had almost dimmed into nonexistence by now, and the sky was rapidly fading from streaked orange-purple to starry black as the final rays of the sun disappeared behind the twisted, ancient forest that concealed the Changeling Hive from wider Equestria. The changelings who had been relaxing largely sat to attention, languidly separating into a more traditional audience as it became clear things were about to begin.

Once the night had finally fallen, the glowworm lanterns that had illuminated the amphitheatre dimmed, and the chatter generated by and surrounding everycreature fell to an anticipatory quiet, accompanied by some more “hush!”ing much the same as Spike’s as all was plunged into near-darkness. ‘Ah! It’s starting, Spikey!’ Rarity whispered, unwrapping another inch or two of her sandwich before falling silent.

Everything was illuminated solely by thin moonlight for a spell, and all remained silent besides a solitary cough from somewhere in the rows below. Then a low string drone sounded from concealed loudspeakers, and a few seconds hence a spotlight suddenly made a loud “clack” from somewhere above the centre stage, bathing it in a cool white light much like the moon overhead but an order of magnitude brighter. Nothing appeared to be present onstage but the usual bleached sand for several seconds, causing a viewer to wonder just what would sprout forth when least expected.

Just then, five burrowing presences encroached into the sand, synchronised as they met in the middle. There was a blue explosion as the strings heightened in pitch and a tree suddenly grew, starting as a sapling from where the presences had convened, rapidly spreading upwards and outwards into a smallish oak, its bark rising and its branches unfurling as if it were one of those fast-motion growth reels Spike had seen on a few occasions while Twilight was doing research.

Atop its highest bough, revealed from a particularly large collection of leaves, stood a changeling Spike recognised as Boscis, although changed from his usual magenta to a royal blue, to facilitate playing a role in much the same way as pony actors concealing their cutie marks while onstage. He stretched an arm upward towards the moon, which had made its appearance shortly before sunset, though nocreature’s attention had been drawn towards it until this moment.

His delivery was spirited, but betrayed slight inexperience. ‘The moon, this flimsy moon,’ he said with a nasal gravity that descended to a dramatic whisper, ‘So much she has changed, continues to change, from the prison of Nightmare Moon to… to what? Princess Luna returned to her sister within their rightful realm, and now nobug knows for sure. But I, I believe… in the rabbits in the moon.’

Another of the troupe was revealed, Dearlove turned turquoise this time, and she trotted along the bough upon which Boscis pontificated, approaching him from behind as he continued to point skyward. ‘Little brother, my dear fool of a brother,’ she recited haughtily, ‘Rabbits can’t survive in space! Nor can they survive on naught but cheese! I myself believe in the moon cheese. You’ll see I’m right one day.’

Boscis turned to her with determination in his eye. ‘My dear sister, on this note you are most incorrect! I have had a vision, from Luna herself! Once so wicked and now so wise, she showed me vast plains of rabbits, hares, bunnies! Lagomorphs!!’ he asserted, ‘She has shown me the moon, and I shall heed her call! Perhaps you seek to disagree, but, my sister, will you not help me reach my destination?’

As the actors continued, Spike put his head over Rarity’s shoulder. She nuzzled her cheek against his for a moment before he asked, ‘Hey, Rare. Do changelings get visits from Princess Luna in their dreams, or is that a pony-only thing? I know they hold her in high regard as a kind of patron princess of reformed villains, but I’ve never heard about that specifically.’

She pressed her cheek against his ear frills, still watching the action unfold as Dearlove’s part informed Boscis’ that a voyage to the moon was surely impossible. ‘Why, you’d know better than I,’ she whispered back, ‘Have you never had a visit from her yourself, darling? At least, not one you remember?’

‘Hmm,’ said Spike, putting a claw to his face in contemplation, feeling like he might have, but unable to put his claw on it.

He fell quiet while he tried, and without an answer Rarity turned back to the action, taking another nibble of her sandwich. A mauve Ocellus had waltzed onto the scene now, climbing up the tree’s trunk onto a lower bough and looking up at the other two. ‘Why do you argue, the both of you? Don’t you realise this is a dream right here, from Luna herself? We can all do anything in a dream! I know a pony who can take everybug we know to the moon tout suite! He can take us all anywhere!’

Elytron was the last changeling to appear onstage – Trochanter was plainly playing the part of the sprawling oak tree the others clambered upon – and unlike the others’ reveals he appeared as an unassuming, small brown bird flying onto a lower bough before transforming into a green version of his usual appearance. ‘A pony? Surely you cannot mean… Space Thrusters, prime pilot of Equestria’s Twilight Age?! If anycreature can achieve the impossible, he is the best equipped!’

‘Did someone say Equestria’s prime pilot? Over!’ came Sandbar’s voice, followed by a bleep, plainly affecting a plummier accent than usual through radio distortion. That was Trochanter’s cue to warp with an alarming wobble from a tree to a white building that looked very much like one of Canterlot’s castle spires, and as she morphed everybug upon her boughs fluttered in place for a moment until her transformation had ended. For effect, some extras who had changed into tiny dirigibles and regular-sized birds took to the air above the stage, and the pale light shining upon the stage brightened in an imitation of daylight.

They landed back upon the tower’s roofs and balconies as Sandbar spoke from above again, slowly floating in from the obscurity of the overhead mists and darkness via balloons tied around his waist, wearing an orange, pneumatic-looking spacesuit and a golden bubble around his head, his mane pinned back by a comms cap with a mic attachment. ‘I tire of circumnavigating the globe!’ he continued as he landed upon the tippy-top of the tower, ‘I’ve done it so many times now I’m getting dizzy just thinking about it! I’ve been wearing this suit of my own devisement for a year and a day, just waiting for somecreature to dream of more! You changelings are my ticket, all our tickets to the great beyond!’

Boscis gasped, flying up to Sandbar with his hooves over his mandibles with excitement as his fellow changelings approached likewise in varying states of enthusiasm, none more excited than his. ‘Why, we’re in Canterlot, and Mr. Thrusters stands before us! Dear Pony sir, it would be the utmost honour to be your passengers! Please, sir, take us to see the rabbits in the moon!’

‘It would be my joyous duty, young bug! Captain Space Thrusters, to the moon and back in my beautiful balloon before breakfast! No bunny too big, no changeling too small!’ It was plain Sandbar came within an inch of corpsing at his lines as he proclaimed that heroically, but he managed to keep his cool.

Then Spike suddenly whispered urgently, ‘The Tantabus!’ snapping his fingers and distracting Rarity from the onstage proceedings, ‘Of course, I was there in that dream version of Ponyville that night, kinda.’

‘The huh–?’ Rarity’s cheeks were bulging slightly from having just eaten the last of her sandwich, and her eyes widened as she looked sideways at him, ‘Oh, yes, the Tantabus! Luna’s little monster,’ she pontificated for a moment more, dabbing her crumbs away with her hoofkerchief before continuing that thought, ‘Nasty business, the way that poor mare was quietly tormenting herself with, well, whatever it was, some sort of guilt-harnessing nightmare creature… thank goodness she was able to forgive herself for a thousand years of moonmad malfeasance before something truly awful happened. With all our help, of course.’

‘Eh, I was there on the ground alright, but I was kind of late to the party and I’m… it’s kinda fuzzy?’ he paused before he snorted, ‘Wait, it’s coming back to me better now. Maybe I was late and all, but I turned into a swole dragon dude and sallied forth into battle upon our local mailmare, along with a bunch of other pony folks following suit and using their dream powers too. It was pretty sweet!’

Rarity giggled in turn, ‘That you did, sweetheart, and it was no small thing for any of you… though what really stuck firm in my memory was Big McIntosh’s fascinating alicorn transformation–’ she stopped as a cry from the stage piqued her attention once again, ‘Ooh! Spikey, I believe they’re about to break into song! Hush now, I want to hear this in full!’

Spike likewise turned his attention back onto the stage, and they both saw that Canterlot was now filled with dancing, singing changelings and bunnies, some of which had gossamer changeling wings, the line between the bottom rows of the amphitheatre and its performance space disappearing underhoof in the swarm of whirling activity. Trochanter the rubbertube spire was swaying to and fro as everybug danced around her, leading the song in that soprano that belied her usual quiet nature.

The background music was a controlled chaos of strings and horns that one would assume came from a small orchestra if the stage setup had allowed for it, but the sharp-eyed could see the heavy lifting there being done by a large system of speakers built into the rim of the stage relaying the contents of a modest disc-jockey set placed just out of the spotlight, illuminated only by an array of blinking LEDs and with an adolescent changeling in headphones babysitting it, changing the track and adjusting the volume as needed.

And so, they all sang:





We're on top of the world!
We're on top of our game!
Blasting off moonwards, we must be completely insane!
We're all on our way!
With those bunnies we'll play!
Our friendship won't break and our pilot will take us–
Up, up and away!





The song was Ocellus’, Elytron largely being responsible for its accompanying choreography, though that was fairly unstructured where the show extras were concerned. His fellows in the troupe stuck to established dance and transformation patterns, to which they took with aplomb; Ocellus in particular had already made a triple-morph with a skip and a spin from changeling to giraffe, then through an interstitial change to a shooting star before becoming a very large and buff rabbit as she sang during the first verse.

It resembled a dancehall more than a stage as the song proceeded, with several dozen changelings becoming dancing flowers, insects, animals – majorly rabbits as the script’s subject matter specified, but for many that was more guideline than rule in this joyous stage invasion – some just fly-dancing around as themselves but having no less fun for that. The bunnies were all different colour-shades of glowing white, and no small number were endowed with bifurcated horns and gossamer wings from some of the changelings who weren’t a hundred-percent committed to playing the part, but to Spike and Rarity it simply enhanced the exoticism of the whole scene.





To the mooOOOoon! Way up there!
We admit it, we're nervous, but we must not ever be scared!
We're going so high!
To where dreams never die!
Where the nightmare lay dormant, now back here as Luna, from! La! Luuuune!





The overhead spotlight changed to a cooler hue as the song slowed, which was the cue for the whirlwind of transformation to cool its jets, the majority of the extras now in their default forms again while the main cast, barring their actress-turned-scenery, had all transformed into rodents and lagomorphs of various kinds; a hare, a hedgehog, a pika and a chinchilla, all waving jazzhands in the main audience’s general direction.

The changelings onstage linked hooves as they danced back and forth to what came next:





We don't know what's up there, aside from those rascally rabbits,
But we're certain we'll understand everything all in good cheer,
We're all so excited, we'll show them our world as we know it,
And with love and respect we just know they'll accept us as peers!

We're on top of the world!
We're on top of our game!
To travel so far, we're feeling completely untamed!
We're all on our way!
With our worries at bay,
Resolute in our purpose, we're moving on upwards
Up, up and awaaaaaaayyyyy!!!!





The remaining audience of non-participants stared with bated breath as the song finally slowed to a stop, a few clapped hooves sounding before falling silent again as the action continued.

Still peering over Rarity’s shoulder, she looked to her right as the song reached its crescendo, seeing Spike’s jaw had dropped in amazement for the duration. She raised a hoof and snapped it closed, ‘Spikey, I know that was simply incredible but please, you’re at risk of drooling on my attire,’ she deadpanned with a smirk.

‘I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am,’ he exhaled, ‘This is way cooler than the rehearsal, and that wasn’t half bad. The extras add so much more to this.’

‘I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart. So, ah, be honest, Spikey-Wikey,’ said Rarity, figuring fishing for compliments was no sin, ‘It was based upon Ocellus’ napkin design, but do you think I did a good job on dear Sandbar’s space suit?’

He nodded. ‘You realised it perfectly, Rare. It definitely looks like something a pony would wear in space, which, to my recollection, hasn’t got much in the way of air. Hence the bubble, right?’

‘Yes, for which the cast can transform into their own in the second and third acts. I only needed to craft one, which is just as well; I couldn’t have done it without the assistance of the glassblowing shop the changelings have, fortunately on the same day I really needed it!’

As the play continued Trochanter once again transmogrified into something new; after another ripple she became an ornate green blimp decorated with tree branches, not as large as dirigibles Spike and Rarity had seen before but large enough for the main cast to ride in. “Space Thrusters” took the wheel while the changeling extras stayed in position; in the blink of an eye most of them transformed with a series of green flashes into grasses and ferns, with one latecomer looking around in confusion for two seconds before registering what was happening and changing likewise.

The action onstage unfolded further, before long breaking into another song as Trochanter pointed herself at the heavens and shook with everycreature aboard, with changelings turning into twinkling stars and creating the illusion of interstellar flight as the moon voyage at last disembarked. Once more, they all sang:





Flying into space, we know it's not a race!
But we must, we must, we must, we have to get there!
Running in one place, it feels as if we're taking an eternity!
But we must, we must, we have to get there to the–

SEA! We seek tranquility!
To prove we have the guts to reach a place to rest!
To show everycreature that we can make the change!
To shake the stigma of a failure to thrive!
We must, we must, we have to show ourselves that we’ve got the drive!





Spike and Rarity fell quiet for the duration, although as the song proceeded Spike couldn’t help noticing Rarity’s face had fallen into a staid but forlorn expression, as though she were staving off tears. ‘Rare?’ he breathed, gripping her shoulders just a little more tightly, ‘Are you okay?’

She sniffed, and she gazed intently at the action as she answered. ‘I– I’m fine, Spike. I’m just finding myself affected by… seeing all this in full production is unearthing rather an old memory, that’s all. Not an especially nice one, either.’

Spike looked at the singing and dancing with an analytical eye, struggling to see what she’d seen; Ocellus’ song took a desperate tone, it was true, but like everything else transpiring onstage it was a celebration of freedom first and foremost. There was definitely something about the changelings’ voyage to the moon that troubled him, too, but he couldn’t quite put his claw on it.

The song continued:





We don’t have time to breathe! We don’t have time to think!
And we can’t turn back, full throttle ahead!
The darkness Luna knew, drawing us through,
But it’s worth it, to reach the brightest moonlight!





‘Hmm… wanna talk about it later?’ he whispered, to which she didn’t respond, so he tried again with a change of subject and a therapeutic rake of the palm behind her ear. ‘Hey, Yona’s part is coming up pretty soon, right? Now, that we saw in full costume earlier.’

Rarity sniffed again, blinking away a tear and nuzzling into Spike’s touch before turning to acknowledge him. ‘Well, yes… we needed to be positively certain to have a full dress rehearsal for her in particular, and I know you know why,’ she said, a smile returning to her face, ‘I haven’t personally dressed her up in full attire since, well, the yakcident, but I haven’t forgotten my errors prior to the girl’s first Amity Ball. Notice that I held off on sticking a wig on her this time!’

‘Oh boy, now there’s an old memory,’ Spike laughed, ‘Less said about that mess the better, I think.’

‘And yet, there’s a direct line from that incident to our current arrangement, mine and Yona’s I mean, is there not?’ Rarity contemplated, ‘Mistakes may have been made on my and the girls’ parts, but it certainly made us both more amenable to her current apprenticeship. And suffice to say, that “Space Thrusters” would likely be played by Elytron as per the original script if events had fallen elsewise. Don’t you think, darling?’

‘Feels like we went over something like that not all that long ago, Rarity,’ Spike drawled, before realising the stage had fallen silent again. He hushed up as they both paid attention to what was now awash with lagomorphic activity, winged, antlered and horned bunnies romping around the stage as Trochanter presided in the background, still a blimp, over a cratered lunar landscape; Spike supposed the look had been moulded in the amphitheatre sands by a stage hand while nobody was paying attention to anything other than their flight. Many of the dancing extras from the previous song had now shapeshifted into carrots half-buried in the sand besides, and the main players, along with their pilot, stood centre stage as they beheld the shining, glowing moon bunnies dancing around them in amazement.

Dearlove’s character had a piece of cheese in her hoof, and she gingerly pretended to take a bite before shuddering, dropping it and allowing it to run back to its fellow changelings. ‘I confess, my dear brother, that in my zeal to be proven right I had forgotten I am lactose intolerant,’ she recited.

Boscis likewise contemplated a carrot, peering closely at it as he turned it in his hoof. ‘And in mine, my sister, I forgot that carrots are to my distaste… “greens” that are not green, indeed, what nonsense! But the bunnies are nevertheless here!’

‘You were both right! Isn’t that in itself cause for a great celebration?!’ Ocellus’ character, now cobalt blue with luminescent purple specks, flying above them with arms full of wriggling unicorn rabbits, asked, ‘As I told you, all dreams can come true! There’s no need for winners and losers here!’

Then a yakkish “argh!” sounded from somewhere, and Elytron’s character suddenly turned yellow in alarm. ‘Hark! I believe with no small amount of worry that we are not alone here, with these frolicking rabbits!’ he intoned, pointing upwards, ‘Who, or what, is that?! Is it a Nightmare?’

Spike snorted from the audience, despite trying to keep quiet, and Rarity nudged him with a hoof, her lips pursed as it had been very close to her left ear. ‘Sorry. Oh, here she is!’ he whispered.

It was Yona’s turn to unveil herself from the mists upon the stage now, aboard a gold-leafed chariot flown in by a half-dozen winged rabbits who were definitely exerting themselves in their effort to keep it steady. She had white flowers with prominent golden stamens adorning her braids, and a flowing translucent white hood over her horns as she glared down upon the intruders upon her territory. Amusingly enough it was “Space Thrusters”, Sandbar himself, who appeared to baulk the most at the disdainful glance she cast upon them all with her arms raised, a gilded spear in one and a cornucopia in the other.

‘Yes! Yes, knock ’em dead, both of you!’ Rarity almost squealed aloud, hopping on her seat as she beamed at her design and her apprentice. Spike, a little jostled by the movement, raised an eyebrow at her apparently considering Yona’s costume an independent entity, and she covered her mouth with her hooves and blushed as she noticed his expression, explaining, ‘Excuse me, darling, I’m just so proud of the look I devised, it’s almost as if it’s a character all of its own. You must admit she wears it extremely well!’

‘I, Great Moon Mother, come to see what cause all this disruption on the moon!’ Yona roared from her chariot, ‘Alien beings from place of green and blue and sometimes yellow in the sky encroach upon this domain of bunnies and cheese! Come you in peace, or are you exiles with darkness in hearts? Speak!’

‘Roger that! We come before you as dreamers, seeking only to make contact with you and your kind,’ Sandbar responded with confidence, ‘I am Space Thrusters, and my companions are changeling explorers who wish only to make friends! Nocreature aboard my blimp harbours harmful intent, I assure you! Over!’

‘She who last arrived upon pale satellite say same, before claiming dominion here for a thousand years!’ Yona thundered, the white spotlight behind her casting a stark shadow upon the changelings and their pilot, ‘Moon Mother protect bunnies if need… not making same mistake twice! Prove intentions at once!’

Ocellus blithely floated up to Yona, setting most of her armfuls of bunnies onto the ground, keeping one without a horn to pet as she spoke. ‘Great Moon Mother, we assure you we are pure of heart, and we only wish for our dreams not to remain dreams! We will all prove our righteousness… hear us sing!’

Once again the music blared, ascending fiddles and horns playing like an entire orchestra after imbibing entirely too much zap apple-infused black tea, Spike observed to himself:





Dire “Nightmare Moon”, she once was named,
We bear great news, she changed disposition!
We know she brought this place great sorrow
But your orbit now is safe in her intentions!

The greatest change of all, delivered by rainbow blast!
Princess Luna took it on the chin
And when it was all over she was healed, not harmed!
Once more Luna, once more on Une,
The night princess of Equestria reformed!





Spike glanced over to where Thorax was seated, seeing the king rapt with joyous attention – chances were good that this whole production was keenly validating to him and his chosen course of leadership, without sucking up to him. Then he turned back to Rarity, and put one claw to his face as he snorted, then leaned so his head was again next to hers. ‘Geez, after the intro this whole thing is just one history class showtune after another, huh? I mean, it’s entertaining to watch and listen, but I was kinda hoping for an actual narrative,’ he whispered.

‘Well, it’s as Dearlove said at the glade earlier, darling – the narrative is mostly an excuse for song and dance and transformations, and we’re getting those in spades, are we not?’ Rarity said as she watched intently. Then she exhaled with that same melancholy Spike had sensed earlier before continuing, ‘Ah, the moon… Spike, you were correct during that last song, something is troubling me just a tad. Now that I dwell on it somewhat, it tangentially pertains to something that troubles you besides, but… well, as the story in this play is a dream, so too the memory of it feels to myself. Rather a troublesome one nonetheless.’

The bridge ensued as she finished that thought:





Our changeling selves, we’ve overcome
The oppression that used to grip our hearts,
Like Luna we were told by insidious force
It was all we were or could be,
But a rainbow blast changed us past our wildest dreams!
And now we’re freeeeee!





She didn’t elaborate further as the song and dance exploded, and Spike once more racked his brains about what she was talking about, keeping his attention likewise onstage as he thought hard. Moon travel, Princess Luna’s past self, something that troubled himself besides, all things that surely hadn’t affected her directly, but her reaction suggested otherwise… Spike hadn’t felt very troubled for the duration of their trip to the Changeling Hive, his concerns about Chitin aside, but the one thing that loomed over his head, that he couldn’t get away from, remained his past and future transformations.

On that thought, he had an inkling of that which caused her consternation. ‘Would… you like to talk about it later then, Rare?’ he asked as the song came to its close.

‘I would, Spikey-Wikey… Of course, right this second seems not to be the time nor place. Besides everything else, I need some quiet to properly gather my thoughts. I don’t know. Hush and let’s watch the show for now, sweetheart.’

‘Alright,’ Spike responded, along with another slight tickle of a claw over her neck and down her right side, and she tossed her mane involuntarily, covering his face in silken purple locks until he brushed them aside. ‘Pleh! Rarity, I am trying hard not to mess up your mane but it’s found its way all over me!’ he laughed.

She turned to him and smiled, leaning her horn against his brow. ‘It’s fine, darling. It’s you.’ she intoned softly.

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ Spike agreed nonchalantly, then paused. ‘Um, I don’t get it… but I love you, Rarity. Whatever it is that’s bugging you, I’ll do anything I can to make it better.’

Once again Rarity didn’t respond verbally, but she did lean forward from her sitting position to rest on her hooves, not unlike how she had fallen forward on the crag earlier that day, less sensuous than that occurrence had been. Spike sat upright on her upper back with his calves gently squeezing her sides, paying attention to the action onstage – the changelings and their pony pilot appeared to have convinced the Great Moon Mother of their good intentions, and she had correspondingly stuck her spear in the sand, holding her cornucopia aloft at the top of a pyramid of fifteen straining bunnies.

The second half of the play was spent quietly between Spike and Rarity. The latter seemed to have lost her words within her melancholic countenance, although her hooves thundered as loudly as anycreature else’s in the audience when the main cast all joined hooves and bowed. The former bounced up and down on her back, his wings spread, whistling and clapping his claws above his head as bouquets tossed themselves upon the stage, lingering for a few moments before sprouting wings and returning to their default changeling selves back in their mid-row seats.

All in all the production had been a great success, Ocellus’ worries that had been talked through during the afternoon’s feelings forum plainly allayed, Ocellus herself looking massively relieved while Dearlove cast her a smug glance that screamed “I told you so!”. Boscis revelled in the attention while Trochanter, having finally revealed herself from her hard work as scenery for the duration, looked sheepish but happy in the thrall of the Hive’s applause. Elytron picked up armfuls of the bouquets with a grin, squeezing them in full knowledge that they were his fellow changelings until they transformed back to return the hug.

‘Oh, marvellous! Simply divine! Brava, brava! I’m so proud of all of you, darlings!’ Rarity espoused, standing and calling. She was definitely mostly drowned out by the cheers and applause of the rest of the audience, though Yona turned to her as she cried out, casting her a broad grin. She reared onto her hind legs and punched the air as she continued, ‘You truly knocked them down, Yona darling! Ah, figuratively speaking!’

As Yona looked at the two of them, Spike waved to her as Rarity reared. She calmed a bit after shouting her piece, still standing in place as Spike jostled around in her congratulation. ‘Oop! Rarity, settle down, wouldja? I nearly fell off!’ he breathed, just as she did.

She giggled, then gave him a pat on the head. ‘So sorry, precious. I needed to blow off a little steam, I suppose,’ she laughed. Spike looked into her eyes and saw a slightly steelier aspect than he normally would expect in the current circumstances, and returned it with a look of understanding. She blinked once, very deliberately before continuing, ‘Why, we should pop backstage and give them our sincerest plaudits, don’t you agree?’

Thorax leaned over to both of them before Spike could answer. ‘Wow, your guys are really fun actors to watch!’ he said with a chortle, ‘Kind of a shame they’re only on board for tonight… other changelings can look the part no problem, but I’ll miss ’em anyway.’

‘Well, they’ve had practice back at the School of Friendship, same as Ocellus, Thorax darling,’ Rarity said, as the lights around the arena became brighter while the amphitheatre lamps dimmed and the actors left the stage. An altogether more ambient piece filled the air from the system as an accompaniment to the audience’s departure, an insistent but harmonious mix of beeps and humming insect wings alongside a harp and strings, ‘Ah, I suppose that’s everycreature’s cue to move, then. Let’s go backstage, Spike. We can talk more about… things, afterwards, if that’s quite alright with you.’

‘Suits me,’ Spike said, outward nonchalance masking the concern he’d fostered from Rarity’s withdrawn earlier behaviour. ‘Carry me over, Rare? And Thorax, you coming with any of your changelings?’

Rarity grinned and batted her lashes in response to Spike’s request. Thorax shook his head, a grin still all over his face. ‘Sorry, but no… we all need to head back to the Hive, though, uh, Scribophilia?’ he turned to the attendant in question, ‘Go down with them and send our troupe my regards. Tell them the play was as great as promised, and I’m completely down to see it again over the weekend. By the way, you two? The hot springs in the Hive’s basement have some private cells you’re welcome to, as our esteemed guests.’

He produced a wooden-handled key from somewhere and tossed it to Spike, who caught it in both claws before Rarity relieved it from him with a sparkle of her  horn, unbuckling her satchel before depositing it within. Her eyebrows raised as she said, ‘Ooh, this is actually ideal for a spot of relaxation. It has been rather a long day… thank you so much, King Thorax. So… Ms. Scribophilia, shall we go?’

The changeling in question hovered nearby, her seemingly-eternal scrip wrapped around her carapace a couple of times, the rest flowing in hoof. ‘No question, Rarity. Both of you follow me, if you please.’

‘Of course. Lead the way, darling,’ said Rarity. And with that, Thorax and his remaining attendants began to leave the amphitheatre while Spike and Rarity followed the note-obsessed changeling further within it, for a doubtless joyous reunion with their actor friends following their wonderful performance. After that, Rarity reasoned, it was certainly time to rest one’s hooves, and discuss matters related to the less-remembered side of a certain heart-shaped jewel with her dear Spikey.


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