//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11. Micah 6:11 
// Story: The Pegasus who Kicked the Changelings' Hive 
// by A M Shark 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 11. “Can I justify wicked scales and a bag of deceptive weights?”—Micah 6:11



It was the bed’s bouncing that woke Fluttershy. She snapped up into a sitting position, braced for a possible attack.
“Regal, darling. It’s just Highflyer,” said a voice nearby. Fluttershy whipped her head about in that direction to see the rainbow-maned unicorn who was both familiar and a stranger. Rarity—no, Regal Love—tipped her head toward the far end of the bed, and Fluttershy looked over there in time to see a small camo-clad blur disappearing over the side of the bed. The blur, which she recognized as Highflyer, came to a stop under the desk and reached up to hook his front hooves on its underside. His vest was open so the current pose provided an unobstructed view of his chest and stomach. Though his face was masked as usual, Fluttershy could sense the tension radiating off him.
“High?” she prodded gently. “What’s—”
“He’s in a mood,” said Spike’s voice from above them, and Fluttershy looked up to see him lowering himself into the room on a rope. “After Discord wasn’t able to get that tattoo off him, I sent him back to the TreeHAB so Twilight could try. She couldn’t get it off either.”
Highflyer looked away with a disgusted grunt. Suddenly a large drop of ink welled up on his falcon pendant tattoo. The drop trickled down his chest to his stomach where it reformed itself into the words:
Highflyer: *Exasperated grunt*
The masked stallion looked down and bared his teeth at the words. Then he noticed how the two mares and the dragon were all watching him apprehensively. He let out a resigned sigh—which the ink on his stomach dutifully recorded much to his annoyance—and muttered, “Get on with it.”
They all moved to join him under the desk.
“Is anypony there?” Regal Love asked, addressing Highflyer’s chest. He twitched, squirmed, and grimaced as the words on his stomach morphed first into her question, then into several responses in the affirmative from the ponies at the TreeHAB.
“Skywishes, how’s Bonfire doing?” Fluttershy asked. “Are you making sure she gets fed, and is staying warm, and—?”
Skywishes: “I promised you I would, didn’t I?”
Fluttershy felt her face flush. As much as she had wanted to see Discord, she had also been reluctant to leave Bonfire in the other pony’s care. After all, Skywishes would have thrown the little one out of the TreeHAB if Fluttershy hadn’t begged her not to. And Skywishes had also made it clear she’d be ready to sacrifice Bonfire if it would mean helping her fellow ponies.
Skywishes: “She’s the same as usual. Troubled, fitful sleep whenever she gets exhausted enough; and seems to regard everyone and everything as a potential threat when awake. And I’m starting to think she might have a permanent limp in her front leg if we can ever get that splint off it. But other than that, nothing has changed with her since you left.”
Fluttershy felt simultaneously relieved that Bonfire’s situation hadn’t gotten worse, and disappointed that it hadn’t improved.
Twilight: “It’s true, Fluttershy. But what’s going on over there? You mentioned a while back that you were filling Discord in on things, but we didn’t find out much beyond that.”
Regal Love let out a faint nervous laugh. “There’s actually quite a bit to share.” And she proceeded to fill them in on what had happened since she and Wisteria had first left the TreeHAB on this endeavor. Fluttershy let her friend do the talking, wondering if Regal Love would share her confession about Discord with the other ponies, and not sure if she would prefer that or to tell them herself.
“And you’re not going to believe this,” Regal Love whisper-shouted. “But the prosecutor is none other than Tequila Mockingbird herself!”
Applejack: “What makes you so sure it’s Tequila Mockingbird herself and not some changeling posing as her?”
“Oh.” Regal Love seemed to deflate slightly at this idea. “Oh, that’s true. I suppose I was just so stunned at the idea of facing her, that it didn’t even occur to me she might be a fake.” She paused to consider this. “I’m not really sure if that would be better or worse than facing the actual lawyer...”
Skywishes: “Well, regardless of whether she’s a pony or a changeling, it seems her current goal is to prove Discord guilty, while your current one is to prove him innocent.”
Twilight: “True, and the law does say ‘Innocent until proven guilty’...”
“But judging by what we’ve seen in the papers, everypony seems to believe he’s already been proven guilty.” Regal Love concluded with a sigh.
Screwjob: “Yeah, somehow you’ve got to get them away from that mindset of he’s a cold-blooded murderer, and back into the old mindset that his MO is making it rain marshmallows, playing mix-and-match with the flora and fauna, and causing everypony’s toast to land buttered-side up.”
Highflyer snorted. “I don’t think even he can manage that last one.”
Twilight: “It might help if we could get him in on this conversation.”



Discord’s elation had worn off to be replaced by anxiety as the minutes ticked by with no sign of his lawyer or her assistant. Had something gone wrong? Had they been discovered? Dare he risk trying to contact anyone through his tattoos with the guards watching his every move?
While he was still deep in these troubling thoughts, the door suddenly opened, revealing Regal Love and Wisteria, the latter with a thick folder clutched in one front leg.
“We’re back again, officers,” Regal Love said brightly. “I’ve had time to review the case and need to discuss it with my client.”
Once again it took some coaxing but finally the guards left. The two mares hurried to the front of the cell and Regal Love quickly cast the spell that would allow them to talk without being overheard.
“Well,” said Discord. “How about we pick up right where we left off when we were so rudely interrupted last—”
Wisteria raised a hoof to halt him, rocking back on her haunches in the process due to the folder currently clutched in her other hoof. “Before we do that, we need to borrow another one of your tattoos.”
The draconequus raised his eyebrows at this. “Why?”
“So we can stay in touch with the rest of the group. Right now all we’ve got is that moth on a piece of paper at the TreeHAB and the one that’s, uh, buried itself in Highflyer’s chest. We can’t keep Highflyer around with us, and even if he went back to the TreeHAB and Twilight sent the paper here to us, it would leave Spike without a way to communicate with us.”
“Ah, say no more.” The draconequus straightened up and peeled a moth tattoo off his neck. As the moth’s wings vibrated excitedly between his fingers, he studied the glowing bars surrounding his cell. “There’s a chance this thing might not be able to squeeze through these bars without setting off the alarm.”
“I’ve thought of that,” said Wisteria, removing a piece of paper from the folder. “So I’m going to try slipping this underneath the bars.” She slid the piece of paper across the floor, but the instant its edge passed under the bars, a piercing alarm shrilled. The moth tattoo shot from between Discord’s fingers and splatted itself into a smear at the very edge of the paper just before the guards burst into the room, ready for battle. Apparently Regal Love’s earlier sound-blocking spell didn’t extend to the alarm.
She quickly flashed said spell away and covered this action by once again acting startled. “Oh, you’ve got to stop bursting in on us like that!” she scolded the guards but they ignored her.
“Get away from there!” a unicorn guard barked at Wisteria, then used his magic to haul her away from the cell before she could even attempt to obey. She just barely managed to snatch up the paper as she was yanked backward.
“What were you doing?!” the guard demanded. “We told you to stay back from the cell!”
Wisteria cowered under the guards’ collective glares, folding the paper in her hooves over and over as if in nervous reflex, but in reality hoping to hide its new inky contents. “I-I know you did. I didn’t mean to disobey, but I accidentally dropped this paper and it went fluttering up against the cell bars, setting the alarm off. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear I didn’t. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Yes, we both are terribly sorry about the false alarm.” Regal Love joined in. “It won’t happen again, but I really do need to discuss the case with my client.”
The guards looked suspiciously at the prisoner who glared back at them, at the cowed assistant who avoided their gazes, and at the lawyer who faced them with the tiniest of hopeful encouraging smiles. Finally the guard who seemed to be unofficially in charge nodded and signaled to the others to leave the room again.
“I don’t think we want to risk setting that alarm off again,” said Regal Love once she’d put the secrecy spell back in place. She turned to Wisteria. “Does the letter work?”
“Let me see.” Wisteria unfolded the paper and whispered to it, “Is anypony there?”
A moment later Spike and Twilight’s responses in the affirmative appeared on the paper, and a moth darted down Discord’s neck to form the same words along his forearm.
“Well, darlings,” said Regal Love, addressing both the paper, and the pony and draconequus currently in the room. “We might not have very long to discuss this case, so we better—”
“Wait a minute,” the draconequus interrupted. “First things first. You left me hanging on several questions last time. For starters, did you get the pieces of Amethyst’s horn back?”
Wisteria was nonplussed by this sudden tangent but before she could respond, new words were appearing on the paper.
Spike: “No, by the time we were able to check the restroom any pieces of her horn that might have been left there were gone. And we’re also not sure what happened with that note she wanted us to leave for the security guard. We dropped it where he’d likely find it, but we had to hop on the train to follow you before we could find out if he actually found it and did anything with it.”
At this, Discord abruptly turned to Wisteria. “By the way, why are you disguised as an earth-pony?”
She looked uncomfortable. “I ... uh ... I didn’t really have a choice. I had to because ... well...”
When he cocked a shaggy eyebrow expectantly, she looked at the floor and said in a rushed whisper, “You kind of zapped my wings off back at Foal Mountain.”
Discord’s expression immediately fell. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching a hand out toward her. It halted just short of the bars, but trembled as if it were taking every ounce of willpower not to go any further. A gesture that escaped Wisteria’s downcast gaze, but not Regal Love’s, who immediately made a mental note of it.
However, his soft apology did seem to strengthen something in Wisteria because she drew a resolving breath. “We’ll deal with that after the trial. What matters now is proving your innocence.”
Discord drew his hand back to fidget with his claws. “You really think they’ll be able to kill me?”
The fact that the question lacked his usual mockery sent a chill down Wisteria’s spine. “I don’t know.” She looked up until her eyes landed on the cuffs circling his wrists. “But since they’ve found a way to block your power with those cuffs, I can’t shake the feeling that they’ve also found a way to kill you.” She paused then added, “Princess Celestia seemed to be implying it when I talked to her.”
That seemed like such a long time ago now, and she wondered not for the first time where the Sun and Moon princesses were now.
Regal Love cleared her throat for both the former partners’ attention. “About this trial ... I don’t want to give you false hope, but I’m afraid it doesn’t look very good. I found out last night that Tequila Mockingbird is handling the prosecution.”
“I thought she was retired,” said Discord.
“Yes, she was,” said Regal Love. “But from what I read, it seems she came back especially for this case.”
“What an honor,” Discord deadpanned.
“Well, it certainly would be if she truly is—” Regal Love caught herself mid-sentence as his sarcasm registered. Then she blushed. “That is ... it was pointed out to me that whoever shows up at the trial might actually be a changeling posing as Tequila Mockingbird. But whether she’s the real Tequila Mockingbird or not, she’s there to convince the jury you’re guilty, and unfortunately her reputation alone is going to swing a lot of weight in her favor.
“Then there’s also the matter of the jury, and the fact that we don’t know how many of them could be disguised changelings...” One eyelid twitched and she swayed on the spot. “Or the judge ... or the bailiff ... or any other official for that matter.”
“Regal?” Wisteria reached out to steady her. “Do you need to lie down?”
“No,” Regal Love said faintly, putting her head down between her front legs and taking several deep breaths. Finally she recovered enough to raise her head.
“Sorry,” she breathed, “but just thinking about truly going into that courtroom not knowing who is or isn’t a disguised enemy...” She shook her head. “I’m amazed Amethyst was able to brave it as long as she did at the hospital.” Her eyes suddenly went shiny with tears. “And to think Applejack went through this all alone all those years ago, unable even to trust any of us.” Her voice broke on the last syllable, and Wisteria pulled her into a hug, giving the disguised pegasus a rare opportunity to be a shoulder-to-cry-on rather than require one.
Regal Love didn’t dissolve into an all-out crying mess, but she did shudder against her friend. “I’m not giving up on the case, but I’m just not sure where to start. None of those legal thrillers prepared me for anything quite like this.”
All this time Discord had been listening, taking in every word, and now spoke up. “Suppose...” he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “For the sake of argument, we were dealing with the real Tequila Mockingbird, and the jury, etc. was made up of only real ponies. How would we proceed?”
Regal Love’s head snapped up, her earlier despair suddenly pushed aside as her brain tackled this question. “Well, there would be Discovery. She would produce her witnesses, I would produce mine, and we would each cross-examine—”
“What witnesses?”
“Pardon?”
“What witnesses would you each produce?”
Regal Love hesitated a moment. “In an ideal scenario, she would produce the Cakes and Haystings, the witnesses who claimed they saw the murders of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie...” Her professional façade seemed to crack a fraction here, but she soldiered on. “While I would produce Dinky, Amethyst, Highflyer, and possibly Screwjob to tell their side of things. Maybe even produce Derpy’s body as evidence if it were possible to safely move her...” She trailed off but Wisteria could guess what she was thinking. That was an ideal scenario, but in a far more likely one, bringing those ponies in to testify would be the equivalent of marching them into a potential death trap.
At that moment, Wisteria saw a sudden look of unease flash across Discord’s face. “Discord, what’s wrong?”
“We might not know the identity of most of the ponies in that courtroom, but I’d bet half my power that Ms. Mockingbird’s star witnesses are the same changelings I ... um ... interviewed to clear up my own suspicions.”
“Are you thinking they might bring that up to make you look bad?” Wisteria asked.
He nodded, and she suddenly remembered how convincing those three changelings had been when playing the part of traumatized eyewitnesses. Now if they also decided to pass themselves off as traumatized victims...
“Couldn’t you just tell everypony what you told me? About how they were never in any actual danger. That you were just trying to scare them.”
“I could, but do you honestly think any pony on that jury—if there actually are any ponies on that jury—would believe me over them?” She was silent and he let out a short bitter laugh. “Wonderful isn’t it? I’ve just given them even more ammunition to use against me, and we can’t so much as pull the old ‘Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire’ routine on—”
“Wait a minute.” Regal Love cut in, halting him mid-rant. “Who says we can’t?”
“What do you mean?” Wisteria asked.
“What if we challenged the witnesses to take a lie-detector test? If they refuse, that might cast some doubt on their testimony. It might not be enough on its own to prove Discord’s innocence, but it might give us some extra time to build a case of reasonable doubt. Or to find a way to expose the changelings.” Regal Love seemed to be growing excited at the idea. But then that excitement promptly dampened. “Wait. There’s that whole disclosure part of the trial. We’d have to tell Tequila Mockingbird ahead of time about wanting to do the test. And if any changelings find out about it from her, they might disguise themselves as maintenance staff and tamper with any available lie-detector before we can use it.”
Suddenly a new pony joined the conversation.
Twilight: “Not if we can keep it away from them until the actual trial.”



A short while later Twilight hurried over to the section of the TreeHAB’s main room where Derpy’s bed and life-support system were located. Apart from Derpy, the only two ponies currently there were Dinky and Amethyst.
“Girls?”
They both looked up from where they were sitting next to their mother’s bed. “Yeah, Twilight?”
“Can the two of you come with me? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” said Amethyst before turning back to the bed. “We’ve got to go for a bit, Mom. But we’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“Love you.” Dinky added.
Twilight felt a small sad smile tug at her mouth. While she was the only one who could supply the magic to power several sections of the life-support system, Dinky and Amethyst had taken it on themselves to handle the rest of their mother’s care and maintenance. The two sisters had also gotten into the habit of regularly talking to their mother and encouraging the other ponies to do the same.
“I know she likely can’t hear us,” Amethyst had admitted, “but if there’s even the slightest chance she can, I want her to know we haven’t abandoned her. That we’re still doing everything we can to save her.”
That was secretly one of the reasons Twilight had wanted to talk with the sisters away from their mother’s bedside.
“Is something wrong?” Amethyst asked after they’d reached the far end of the room.
Twilight turned to face them. “You know I’ve spent every day since we got your mom here trying to find a way to safely reverse her condition?”
“Yes.”
“Well, something’s come up.” And Twilight proceeded to explain to them what she’d discussed with Regal Love, both about the lie-detector and finding a way to expose any possible changelings. “If I can find the right materials around here, building the lie-detector shouldn’t be that hard, but our catching the witnesses in a lie isn’t going to do much good if more or all of the jury is in on the lie as well. And the problem with most of our previous methods for spotting changelings—like seeing how animals react to them—is that they all involve getting up close and personal with the possible changeling.” Under her breath she added, “Not to mention we’re currently pretty short on animals.”
“What about Mache Max?” asked Amethyst. “According to Skywishes, he seemed to know the difference between the real Fluttershy and a fake one.”
Dinky let out a short humorless laugh. “According to her, he also seems to be an equal opportunity annoyer regarding everypony except Fluttershy.”
Twilight nodded. “He’s been useful at times but he’s also pretty unpredictable. What we really need is something that will allow us to just look at somepony clear across a room and immediately know if they’re a disguised changeling or not, without letting them know we know. Last year I tried making a potion that would do just that but I never got a chance to test it. I can try making it again here, but doing that and testing it will take time. And if the potion doesn’t work, altering it and retesting it will take even more time.”
“So what you’re saying is...”
Twilight sighed. “If I focus on exposing the changelings, I might have to put finding a cure for your mother on hold.” She might have to be forced to stay in that inside-out state even longer than she already has.
Twilight didn’t say that last part aloud but she knew from the sisters’ horrified expressions that they had made the connection.
“Give us a minute,” said Amethyst. Then she and Dinky promptly scurried back to their mother’s bedside and began conversing in low tones.
Twilight stole slowly back to them, partly to give them the requested minute, and partly because she was reluctant to see a repeat of the shock and disappointment she’d just seen on their faces.
By the time she reached them, Amethyst straightened and turned to face her. “Focus on exposing the changelings.”
Twilight blinked. “You sure? I—”
“Mom would—will understand,” said Amethyst, putting a hoof on the edge of the bed. “She and I would likely have died in the hospital if Discord hadn’t made me go on without him. That’s the reason he’s where he is now.”



As it turned out, building the lie-detector didn’t take long at all, and soon the group at the TreeHAB was clustered around Twilight, examining the device. It was about the size of a medium-sized book—easy enough for a pony to carry concealed among other documents a lawyer might require—with a gauge and a series of buttons on it, and a collar attached to it via a long leash.
“It’s a pretty simple design.” Twilight explained. “All you need to do is attach the collar to the subject’s neck and let them talk away. Though I want to test it to make absolutely sure it—”
At that moment Screwjob picked up the collar, snapped it around his neck with a flick of a foreleg, and announced, “Apps! I’m leaving you for another girl!”
This was followed almost instantly by a loud buzzer as the gauge’s needle swung toward ‘lie,’ and a button underneath it also marked ‘lie’ flashed wildly.
Applejack sighed. “You just had to get my hopes up, didn’t you?”



But creating an uncompromised lie-detector was only a fraction of the battle. A much bigger fraction would lead Regal Love and Wisteria to seek out an interview with the three witnesses in the case.
“I really don’t understand why you’re defending him,” said Mrs. Cake—or rather the changeling disguised as Mrs. Cake, Wisteria reminded herself.
“Somepony has to,” said Regal Love. “The law requires it, and the law is all we can fall back on since the Princesses have all disappeared.” She leaned forward toward the witnesses sitting across the table from her and her assistant. “What do you suppose happened to them?”
“Why don’t you ask your client that?” Mr. Cake challenged.
“He’s not the one I’m currently interviewing,” said Regal Love, not rising to the possible bait, and impressing Wisteria once again with her conduct. All through this interview the unicorn had managed to play the part of a new-but-nonetheless-impartial-lawyer-who-might-have-an-unpleasant-client-but-still-intended-to-represent-him-to-the-best-of-her-ability.
But the interview itself didn’t really matter at the moment. It was only cover for the actions Wisteria was about to take. All this time she had been scratching a quill across some paper as if taking notes, but now she frowned at the quill, gave the paper several experimental scribbles, then shoved her head and front legs into her saddlebag on the pretense of getting a fresh quill. Hidden in the saddlebag was a small vial of potion. While digging around in the bag, she carefully uncorked the vial and swallowed its contents before popping back up to resume her note-taking. As the interview continued, she counted the seconds and surreptitiously watched the interviewees. If the potion worked, Twilight wanted her to find out how quickly its power would kick in and how long it would last, but all throughout the interview Wisteria never saw so much as a flicker in the three witnesses’ disguises.
“Well, I think that’s enough for now,” Regal Love said finally. “Thank you so much for the interview.”
As she and Wisteria parted ways with the witnesses, Regal Love silently mouthed to her assistant: “Did it work?”
“No.” Wisteria mouthed back just as silently.
Regal Love allowed disappointment to slip through her neutral expression, and Wisteria was sure her own face wore a similar expression. There’s still time for Twilight to alter the potion and for us to test it again before the trial, she tried to reassure herself. But she couldn’t stop worrying that those alterations might be no more successful than this attempt had been.



As Twilight produced altered versions of her original potion, and as Wisteria and Regal Love devised ways to test them, the days seemed to simultaneously crawl and fly by until suddenly it was the night before the trial.
Wisteria expected to have trouble sleeping, but the constant tension of the past days had worn her down so thoroughly she was asleep almost before hitting the bed.
She woke the next morning to the sensation of scaly claws shaking her. “Seconds,” she heard Spike whisper, confirming his identity.
“Wasp,” she responded, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Looking around, she saw Highflyer hunkered in a corner, avoiding eye contact. However there seemed to be no sign of... “Where’s Regal Love?”
“She said she was going to go help Discord get ready,” said Spike as he fished a vial out of his jacket pocket. “Here’s the latest potion. Twilight just finished it.”
“What about the lie-detector?”
“High’s got it.”
At the sound of his nickname, Highflyer straightened up enough to thrust the lie-detector out in front of him while still not looking their way. Ever since that moth tattoo had taken up residence in his chest and started reporting every single word and sound he uttered, the tiny wrestler had been growing surlier and surlier to the point where he now refused to speak to anyone; refused to give the tattoo any excuse to write across his stomach. Wisteria slid off the bed and hurried over to take the offered lie-detector.
She whispered a thank you, which he ignored. Wisteria tried to remind herself that it was nothing against her personally but it suddenly felt wrong to just leave him stewing like this. She put a tentative hoof on his shoulder. “High...” The words froze on her tongue when he snapped his head up to shoot her an icy glare. She had hoped to offer comfort but now she feared her planned words would only infuriate him.
Still she couldn’t leave without at least saying something.
Looking down past his eyes—which was easier said than done considering how much shorter than her he was—she removed her hoof from his shoulder and let it hover a few inches from the falcon pendant tattoo on his chest, not sure if he would allow her to actually touch it. She heard him huff out the softest of exhalations before he leaned forward until his chest made contact with her hoof. The instant her hoof touched the tattoo, it seemed to shimmy and a moth tattoo emerged from behind it and began scuttling back and forth excitedly just above her hoof, its wings coming up and down against her hoof as if making little pat-pat gestures. Wisteria wanted to smile at this, but Highflyer’s uncomfortable flinching at the movements warned her to keep it short. Looking down at the tattoo and privately willing it not to spell out her words for Highflyer’s sake, she murmured, “If this works, you’ll be back with Discord and the rest of your friends soon.”
“Let’s hope so,” Highflyer grumbled, breaking his silence for the first time in what had felt like an eternity. “I don’t want to be stuck with that squatter squirming around in my chest for the rest of my life.”
As if just to spite him, the moth suddenly darted down and scrawled these words right across Highflyer’s stomach before soaking them back into its own body. Then it darted up to Highflyer’s throat, where it brought its wings together above its antennaed head, and comically dove into the falcon pendant below it. The falcon’s wings morphed into moth ones that wrapped tight around it and began gleefully swaying from side to side. Highflyer cast his eyes ceiling-ward as if to say: See what I have to put up with?
But Wisteria was remembering how she had previously wondered what would happen to Discord’s tattoos if he died. Would this one in Highflyer’s chest just stop moving immediately, or would it linger on until its stored-up power eventually ran out? How she hoped they would never have to learn the answer to that question.
“Well,” she finally said awkwardly. “I, uh, I’d better go.” She was just drawing her hoof back from his chest, when there was a flash of movement and her hoof was suddenly imprisoned in his much-smaller one.
“Shy.” His shortened version of her true name startled her almost more than his swift movement had. He leaned his masked face up toward hers, and when he spoke, his voice matched the intensity burning in his eyes. “Don’t let Ray’s killers escape. I don’t care how you do it, but don’t let them escape.”
She caught a glimpse of the moth tattoo darting back down to record his words, but for once Highflyer ignored it, keeping his eyes trained on hers.
“They won’t.” she promised, hoping to project a confidence she didn’t really feel. She must have succeeded because he gave her a slow nod as if satisfied and released her. Stepping back from him, she moved to the mirror to make sure her skirt suit and the disguise beneath it were both presentable and took a quick swig of potion to touch up her dye job for the day to come.
“Good luck,” she heard Spike whisper as she made sure she had everything she needed for the upcoming trial.
“Thanks.” Despite all their preparations, she feared they were going to need it.



Before she knew it, Wisteria was seated at the front of the courtroom, waiting for the true stars of the trial to show up. She tried to look collected, but was unable to keep her eyes from darting about. When she wasn’t glancing down at the saddlebag beside her—which contained the lie-detector, some emergency bottles of disguise potion for both herself and Regal Love, and the vial of potion Spike had given her—she was peeking over her shoulder to see who was entering the room. So far all she’d seen were guards and several civilians who she guessed must be the jury. She longed to down the vial of potion in hopes of finding out who among them might secretly be changelings, but unfortunately that would have to wait until she could test it against the three ponies she knew to be changelings. Three ponies who had yet to make an appear—
“You defense?”
Wisteria almost jumped right out of her chair at the sound of the gruff male voice to her left. She turned in that direction to see a rather striking earth-pony stallion step around the prosecution’s desk to give her a sizing-up look. He was a skewbald pinto wearing a red power tie that stood out vividly against the rich brown and bright white blotches that formed his coat, making Wisteria wonder how she had missed him up until that point.
“You lawyer?” he asked in the same gruff voice she had heard earlier.
“Oh, no, no,” she babbled, flustered at the question. “I’m just her assistant.”
“Uh.” he replied in a tone that conveyed both acknowledgment and dismissal as his eyes, which were an oddly predatory shade of yellow she couldn’t recall ever seeing before in a pony, gave her another quick sweep-over. “Scout got better bargain.” Then he raised his head, looking past her, and his expression brightened. “Boss!”
Wisteria turned to see an older earth-pony mare trotting toward them. Not elderly per se but at least a good ten or twenty years older than Wisteria herself. The mare’s mane was in a blunt-cut bob pulled back from her face and she was wearing a pair of extremely thick glasses. She was dressed in a power suit, but despite its tailoring she still looked rather ... well, Wisteria didn’t want to be unkind but the only word that came to mind was ... frumpy.
The mare came to a stop and squinted first at the pinto, then at Wisteria, who guessed she must be close to blind if the glasses did that little to improve her vision.
“That only assistant.” said the pinto in a tone that clearly meant: “That is nothing worthy of our time or attention.”
Behind her thick glasses, the mare’s eyes seemed to roll ceiling-ward. “You drive me to despair, Scout.”
“Scout not give hoot about two-by-two!” the pinto declared as he strutted back to the prosecution’s desk.
“You know full well that’s not what I said.”
“Scout not give hoot about nothing!”
“What have I told you about using double negatives?”
“Scout say what Scout mean! And Scout want to watch Boss win case!”
“Wait, are you—?!” Wisteria’s voice came out much squeakier than she intended. As the older mare turned back to her, Wisteria cleared her throat and tried again. “Are you ... Tequila Mockingbird?”
“She are! Oh boy!” the pinto confirmed before the mare could answer.
“Scouuut...” the lawyer said in a warning tone.
“But you is!” he proclaimed, meeting the lawyer’s squinty glare with wide-eyed adoration.
Wisteria did not have long to muse either on the arrival of Tequila Mockingbird or on the lawyer’s interaction with her ... assistant? ... sidekick? ... fan? Because at that moment she heard the distinct clink of chains behind her. She turned back to see its source, saw Regal Love trotting toward her, then looked beyond the unicorn ... and did an instinctive double take at the sight of her former partner being led into the courtroom.
When Regal Love had mentioned plans for getting him ready, Wisteria had naturally figured her friend would get him tidied up and fitted with a nice suit to look as professional as possible. But instead Discord was clad in a rivet-covered jacket and a shredded mesh shirt that didn’t so much conceal as it did draw attention to the scarred stubbly patches on his neck, side, and hip where new feathers and fur were still growing back. Not to mention the tattoos that also twisted over the majority of his strange body. His wrists were cuffed behind him and he was hobbled by chains that prevented him from taking anything more than small steps. A thick collar circled his neck and trailing down from the collar were four chains, each being pulled taut by a guard to further keep him in place. However, in addition to that collar, his neck was also layered with multiple chains, necklaces, and spiked collars that seemed purely decorative; and he had jewelry back in all his piercings.
After seeing him stripped of all that metal both during her brief visit to the hospital and the longer ones to his prison cell, the sight of him wearing it again filled Wisteria with conflicting emotions. On one hoof, she found an odd comfort in the fact that he now seemed much less exposed, less vulnerable than he had during those visits. Even if the layer of protection was only superficial. But on the other hoof, she also suddenly felt cut off from him. As if she were among all the other ponies he wished to keep out. And why wouldn’t you be? a small voice in the back of her head pointed out. After all, he did leave—
Shut up! she mentally ordered the voice. Now was not the time to worry about that. Not when Discord’s very life might be at stake.
As the guards and their prisoner neared the defense’s table, one guard motioned for Wisteria to move away and she obeyed without argument. As she moved back, she noticed that the end of Discord’s tail had been pulled up and fastened to the back of his heavy collar to keep him from lashing out with it. The draconequus was forced into a chair, and a unicorn guard aimed his horn at the collar. There was a flash of magic, followed by a click, and Discord’s tail—now surrounded by unicorn magic—came free of the collar. The unicorn guided Discord’s tail through an opening in the back of the chair before fastening it to the collar once again. There was a second flash of magic, followed by another click, and the cuffs keeping Discord’s hands behind him separated. More unicorn magic surrounded his wrists and forced him to put his hands, palms-down on the table in front of him. There the cuffs still on his wrists were fastened to short thick chains attached to the table’s surface. The chains fastened around his legs were secured around the legs of both his chair and the table. Finally the chains connected to his collar were threaded through holes in the tabletop before being fastened to more rings in the floor.
So many precautions to prevent a criminal from getting free and all of them directed at the wrong target. Wisteria found herself thinking.
Regal Love moved to stand beside her, whispering softly into her ear, “You love him.”
Wisteria subconsciously relaxed a fraction. Only the real Rarity would know that as neither of them had yet to mention it to the rest of their friends.
“Yes, I do.” Wisteria whispered back just as softly, confirming her own identity, before adding, “But why’s he dressed like that? I thought you’d have had a suit made for him or something.”
“Well, I had originally planned to, but when we tried it, it ... just seemed ... fake. As if we were trying to play to an audience by attempting to pass him off as something he wasn’t and doing a very poor job of it. So I’m ... Well, I’m trying a different approach that will ... shall we say rely on him to carry.”
Wisteria looked back at Discord and suddenly saw what Regal Love was hinting at. Despite being chained up, he still held his head high, his posture and the way he boldly met the eyes of the ponies around him saying as clearly as words: “Go ahead. Stare, gape, gawk at me all you want. I welcome it. I have nothing to hide.” And not with the sullen resentment one might expect given his tattoos, piercings, and rough clothing, but with a bizarre sort of dignity so at odds with his appearance that it actually worked in a uniquely Discord-ish way.



“The defendant has been secured and you may now approach him.” a guard announced. “But be careful.”
Discord glanced down to see his lawyer and her assistant moving to sit beside him. Wisteria (Fluttershy, he thought defiantly) took the middle, allowing her to be closer to him. Looking up, she offered him a very quick tiny smile before looking back down at the table. It was the first time since arriving in Canterlot that there were no cell bars separating them, and yet he still couldn’t take her in his arms. Still couldn’t speak to her about ... well, anything. Everything. Not with so many potential enemies watching them.
Well, maybe I can’t. Discord thought, clearing his throat, and surreptitiously elbowing his own ribs as he turned his chest as far as he could in Wisteria’s direction under the pretense of just adjusting his position.



Wisteria heard throat clearing above her, and glanced back up at Discord. He twitched his head as if gesturing at something with his beard. She looked back down and found herself staring at all the jewelry circling his neck. Something seemed to shift or change amongst it. At first she thought it was merely a trick of the light, but then she  made out the face of his dragon tattoo peering out at her from between the necklaces and chains. Safely hidden from the rest of the courtroom, it raised a claw to wave at her. She raised a hoof to the side of her head as if giving a salute, and disguising the gesture as a head scratch, returned the wave. Continuing to wave at the tattoo, she turned her head away to make any observer think she was merely scratching that side of her head as well, and noticed Regal Love had her eyes trained on the two ponies seated at the prosecution’s desk.
She felt a wave of pity for her friend. Under other circumstances, the idea of being this close to Tequila Mockingbird would likely have had Rarity bouncing and squealing with an enthusiasm to rival Pinkie Pie’s. But now she must hide all that away and instead play the role of opposing lawyer against this veteran of the courtroom.
Looking once again toward said veteran, Wisteria suddenly noticed how drab and plain Tequila looked next to Scout. Quite the opposite of herself and Regal Love actually. While Wisteria wouldn’t go so far as to call her soft blues and purples drab, they were definitely much less eye-catching than Regal Love’s mix of bright pink and multi-colors. That had been an intentional choice on their part, and now she suddenly wondered if Tequila, or the changeling posing as her, had some strategic reason for picking a much showier second-in-command. Or could Scout possibly be a changeling with motives of his own for fawning (or pretending to fawn) over Tequila?
“Hear ye! Hear ye!” an elderly blue-gray unicorn mare at the front of the room bellowed in a surprisingly stentorian voice. “All rise for the honorable Judge Snow Day!”
“Can’t! I’m a bit tied up at the moment!” Discord retorted. Wisteria almost laughed aloud at this, amazed that he could sound so unconcerned, but at the same time fearing that his flippancy might put him on the judge’s bad side. If he wasn’t there already.
However, the elderly unicorn didn’t seem to miss a beat. “All except the defendant rise for the honorable Judge Snow Day! Defendant, you will sit for the honorable Judge Snow Day!”
“That I can do.” he said brightly, then muttered under his breath as the ponies throughout the room scrambled to their hooves, “Not like I really have a choice.”
Out of the judge’s quarters stepped an even more ancient-looking unicorn. She gazed around the room with dim eyes before moving to the bench. “Ah, thank you, bailiff,” she told the blue-gray unicorn in a reedy voice, before turning to the rest of the court. “Sit down, everypony, sit down. Hmm, lemme see. Lemme see. Ah, we’ll open with, uh, with the opening statements.”