//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: The Sympathisers // Story: A Night at the Gala // by Locomotion //------------------------------// “Hey, Apple Bloom, you seen where Hornette went?” “Can't say as Ah have,” replied Apple Bloom as Locomotion came trotting up to them. “Y'all okay? Yo' lookin' kinda fierce.” “And so I should! Couple of idiot elitists had the nerve to embarrass me and Hornette in front of all the others!” replied Locomotion crossly. “Now she's done a runner and I can't find her!” “What's that about Hornette?” Flash Sentry had caught the tail end of the conversation and come over to see what was going on. “Has somepony been picking on her or something?” “Yes – two guests by the names of...Jet Set and Upper Crust, I think they were,” explained Locomotion tersely. “They were absolutely shoving it down my throat how beneath them I was and how they thought I didn't make a good engine driver. Hornette stepped up to defend me, but they just laughed at her and called her names.” “Yeesh,” remarked Flash, “I wondered why she seemed so distraught. I saw her just a few moments ago; she left this behind on her way out.” He held out his left wing, and Locomotion's heart sank when he saw what it held – one of Hornette's slippers! She must have been too distressed, he realised, to realise she was missing one in the first place. “Oh, grief!” he murmured breathlessly. “They've really gone and done it, those shameless morons – now she's shedding clothes as well as tears!” He looked Flash desperately in the eye. “Any idea where she might've gone?” Flash pondered for a moment. “Well...I couldn't be sure, but I think she was headed for one of the local parks. I can go check if you like.” “No thanks, Flash,” replied Locomotion hastily. “If I get to the park and she's not there, I'll come find you and we'll send out a search party. Otherwise...I'll see you back in Ponyville.” “Say what?! But Loco, the princesses...” “Ah, bother the princesses!” snorted Locomotion impatiently. “I'm not staying here to be insulted; and if I know Hornette, neither will she!” and he darted off. The park in question was only a stone's throw away from the castle grounds, but still far enough away from the heckling voices of the Gala that the disheartened and humiliated Hornette could finally feel safe. Even so, she struggled to stem the flow of her tears as she touched down. “Why me?” she sobbed bitterly to herself as she wandered aimlessly along the gravel path where she had landed. “Why did those elite ponies have to treat me like a war criminal? I never even asked to be one in the first place!” She gathered pace, venting her feelings as she went; “My kind At war With other nations; Empire And power That was their strife...” Painful memories of her past – how she was bullied for showing the kind of compassion towards other species that would have enraged Chrysalis like no-one would believe – the trauma of seeing many of her former friends from the hive turned into savage mercenaries – even her early days in Ponyville...all flashed through her mind, taunting her almost as much as the Gala guests' rude laughter. “But no, Not mine! Such devastation Was not what I could ever want in life...” Her pace slowed again as she neared the top of a grassy knoll. Exhausted from crying so much and running so hard, she collapsed onto her haunches and gazed miserably at the panorama that lay before her, her sobbing abating into occasional sniffles. “My only wish is to be embraced by all Equestria; I want it more than I can tell...” Just then, she spotted a faint light near the horizon, surrounded by mountains on all sides. For although Ponyville was more than a thousand miles away, one could still see the tall spires of Canterlot Castle from there, and the mountain on which the Equestrian capital sat; so it only made sense in Hornette's mind that the same should be true in reverse. Blinking away a few stray tears, she allowed herself a faint, touched smile as she thought of Steamer, and Zecora, and Surfie, and Fair Isle, and so many other ponies who really did embrace her as a true friend. Sure, many of them may have been a little apprehensive to begin with... “...Though I also think it grand To know someone understands That there's so much more beneath my shell.” And goodness knew she could do with one of those friends with her right now. Perhaps it was just as well, then, that Locomotion had managed to catch up to her by this point. “You alright, Hornette?” he ventured softly as he approached. Deep down, he felt he knew the answer already; so he wasn't at all surprised when Hornette gloomily shook her head in reply. He settled down next to her and gave her a comforting nuzzle, which she gladly returned. Neither of them spoke for a long time, instead taking solace in each other's company as they sat and gazed across the land towards home. “I never should've come,” Hornette lamented at last. “I knew they'd all be mean to me.” “You and me both,” sighed Locomotion gravely. “Heck, I never should've let Sweetie-Belle talk us into this crazy idea in the first place!” His brow furrowed with sullen anger. “When I see her again, she's getting a jolly good piece of my mind, you mark my words.” Hornette cringed, trying to fight back further tears. She knew Sweetie-Belle had been acting with the best of intentions, but for once, she felt deeply disappointed in her for what had just happened. “And I tried so hard to fit in among that lot,” she mourned, looking up at Locomotion. “I'm sorry I ran out like that...” But Locomotion promptly interrupted her with a hoof over her lips and a meaningful kiss on the cheek. “You've nothing to be sorry for,” he soothed. “It's those stuffed shirts who should be sorry for how they treated you back there. They can keep their Grand Galloping Gala and their high society cliques and all that trash – you're way more important to me, and if they can't respect that...well, shame on the lot of them.” He drew her into a hug and nuzzled her once again. “You're a whole lot better than them, Hornette. Don't you forget that.” Touched by his words, Hornette fondly hugged him back. “I don't know where I'd be without you, Loco,” she whispered gratefully. “You're welcome,” said Locomotion softly. He pulled back and gazed up at the nearest clock tower; it was still only half past nine, so there was every chance... “Come on,” he counselled, “let's get out of here. There should be a train for Foalchester at the very least.” But just as he and Hornette were standing up, they heard a voice booming from behind them, “CHANGE!!!!” One moment, they were still on their knoll – the next, there was a sudden flash of azure, followed by a startled yelp from the changeling as they found themselves standing behind a stage curtain somewhere. Shaking off the dizziness from their abrupt teleportation, Locomotion looked around incredulously. “Whoa, hey...what the flabberwocky's going on?!” he spluttered. “Good trick, wasn't it?” Before Locomotion or Hornette could even begin to wonder where they had heard that voice before, Discord suddenly appeared in front of them. “I know what you're thinking, but you're only half-right – am I right, dearest mistress of tricks?” “You're too kind, Discord.” Only now did they see the creature to whom the mischievous draconequus was referring. “Yes, you lucky creatures have had the privilege of witnessing yet another dazzling achievement by the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Instinctively, she lit up her horn, setting off a small but spectacular display of fireworks until a yellow hoof with white feathering rested on her shoulder. “Alright, Trixie dear, save it for later.” Locomotion glared up at the pony who had just spoken. “You again?!” he growled. “Which bit of 'stay out of our way' do you have trouble understanding, Blueblood?!” “If you'll allow me to speak...” “Or what? You'll issue a court order telling me to stay silent for the rest of my life?! Well, let me tell you something – that's exactly the kind of idiotic 'royalty is always right' attitude that destroyed other creatures' lives!” Locomotion was almost at his boiling point by now, and whatever Blueblood had to say next, he wasn't about to offer any quarter now. “I know – and I'm sorry.” Or was he? Those five words and the sincerity with which they were spoken caught Locomotion completely by surprise, and for a good long while, he was so speechless that he could only splutter in disbelief. “You're absolutely right, young Locomotion – I did insult your aunt's memory with the Constellation airliners, and hundreds of others to boot. I admit it, and deeply regret it, and you have every right to be furious with me for my actions. But you must understand that I had no intention of boasting about it to you or your date, and certainly no ill will towards this fine young specimen of a changeling.” Hornette felt a little flattered, but was still wary. “All I wanted was to make it up to you,” continued Blueblood. “I saw how coldly the other nobles were treating you in spite of your heroism from last year, and believe me, I was just as appalled as you two were offended. I do apologise on Jet Set and Upper Crust's behalves, by the way; their behaviour towards you was unacceptable.” “Wait...why are you being all sympathetic towards us?” objected Locomotion, still struggling to make sense of what was going on. “We're just a lowlife railway worker and worthless changeling; why should a long-necked stuck-up like you want to help us?!” He shot Hornette an apologetic look, even though she was more fixated on what Blueblood had to say. “Well...yes, I do admit to being...more than a little uptight in times gone by,” said Blueblood gravely, “and I'm deeply ashamed of it, I must confess.” “He wasn't always like that.” Now it was Trixie's turn to speak up, and this time, it wasn't in the usual boastful, standoffish demeanour that Locomotion remembered her for – rather, a sincere, almost philosophical tone that he would have expected out of the likes of Twilight or Applejack. “I thought he was at first, but after I got to know him...I learned that he was actually quite a pleasant sort in his youth – the sort of pony who had a natural curiosity about the world around him, who loved going out and meeting people.” “It's true,” ventured Blueblood, fighting back an amused smirk at the comically befuddled expression on Locomotion's face. The poor colt's brain must be stripping more than a few gears, he thought ruefully. “It was only thanks to a, er...slight trauma, shall we say, from my teenage years that I began to change for the worse. You see, I was infatuated with a beautiful young noble's daughter, and when she came over to Canterlot with her family, I was keen to woo her.” His face fell at the painful memory bubbling to the surface. “She rejected me – said I wasn't worthy to be a squire, let alone a prince, and that she would rather drown in a swamp than court a wannabe peasant like me.” Hornette choked back a horrified gasp as she sensed his pain. “Oh, Blueblood...that's awful,” she stammered breathlessly. “Why would she do such a thing? And to a prince, no less?” Blueblood grimaced. “She was the daughter of the Duke of Hoofington,” he said simply. Locomotion's puzzlement gave way to sudden realisation as the pieces fell into place with a dramatic thud. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Well, that explains everything right away!” “What does?” asked Hornette. “The Hoofington family were known for their racist, feudal attitudes. They looked down on the little pony as if they were ants, and only grudgingly followed the princesses' wishes,” said Locomotion grimly. “Most of the time, they criticised Celestia's principles, claiming she was too soft on the so-called 'peasants'. It got them into trouble when they defied an Act of Parliament in their constituency; lost them their peerage, and that got taken over by the Marquess of Prancetown.” He turned his attention back to Blueblood; “And you mean to say you fell in with the wrong crowd?” “Well...not exactly a crowd, per se, but yes,” affirmed Blueblood, “it did have a...less than savoury impact on me. I took that mare's words far too much to heart; if this was how real nobles were going to behave, then being as courteous and thoughtful as Auntie Celestia would have wanted simply wasn't worth it. I think you can draw your conclusions from there.” He sighed heavily and continued; “That altercation with Rarity, bless her, should have opened my eyes to how wrong I was – to how wrong that other mare was – but instead I went on in the same old way until...well, you know when. My own part in the whole fiasco...my utter conceit...that very much led to my undoing, and I was afraid to show my face in public for months I was so ashamed and humiliated. Then one day, my aunties organised a variety show here at the castle to bring me back out of my shell.” So that's where we are, thought Locomotion, nodding patiently for Blueblood to go on. “They invited a number of performers – poets, singers, magicians, you name it – but one in particular stood out for me. I was uneasy about approaching her at first, but then I learned how much she and I had in common...one thing led to another, and since then, we've been walking out together, me and Trixie. And get this,” finished Blueblood, “she drew on her own experiences to help me make amends with those I had wronged after the Constellation crashes.” “And now we want to do the same with you,” put in Trixie. “We want to help you put those prissy nobles in their place and show them that you, Hornette, really do have a place in pony society.” “We'd spoken it through with my aunties,” explained Blueblood, “and we've all agreed that we would like you, Locomotion, to make a motivational speech in support of our newest allies.” Locomotion looked awestruck, but only for a moment. He hadn't expected any kind of support from Blueblood, let alone an apology, and to speak out in favour of changelings, under royal sanction no less, felt too good to be true in itself. He almost wanted to accept the offer, but then he remembered Jet Set and Upper Crust's words of derision, and how badly they had angered him and hurt Hornette's feelings. He sighed heavily, head hanging with pessimistic uncertainty. “I can't,” he moaned pathetically. “They'll only laugh at us again.” “So? Creatures laugh at me a lot, and I actually enjoy it!” scoffed Discord. “You know what they say, 'haters gonna hate' – and you know what?” He plucked his head off his shoulders, and turned it to face the other way before shoving it back down again. “Let them laugh – when you're done, they'll be laughing on the other side of their faces.” “What, as in booing us off the stage?” “Most certainly not! Not if we have anything to do with it, anyway,” chuckled yet another voice. Locomotion's eyes widened when he saw who the voice belonged to. “Well, of all the...Fancypants?!” “Indeed it is, and a real pleasure to meet you both.” Fancypants stepped forward, flanked by a white unicorn mare with a flowing pale pink mane and tail. “I heard what Jet Set and Upper Crust said to you,” he said kindly, “and I must say, I'm appalled at the both of them and everyone else who laughed in your faces. It wouldn't be the first time they showed such unwarranted disrespect for national heroes, I might add.” “You mean...the Bearers of Harmony?” piped up Hornette, remembering what Rarity had told her about the first time she met this urbane unicorn. “Precisely,” smiled Fancypants. “I knew those ponies by reputation, yet the others in my league willingly belittled them. It's times like these I wonder if being the 17th Earl of Canterbury is worth it. But enough of all that – my dear wife Fleur and I are here to show our solidarity with you both, and with changelings in general.” “We may not know any changelings ourselves,” added the mare, “but Fancypants and I are more than willing to welcome changelings to our country, especially after learning about their...their struggles, shall we say.” “As are we.” Cadance, Shining Armour and Flurry Heart were the next to step forward. “You two are setting an example for ponies and changelings the world over,” praised Cadance, “and it would be imprudent not to acknowledge that.” “Not to mention the fame you rightfully achieved even before then.” That last voice brought a mild glint to Locomotion's eyes. “Tarquin!” he gasped, visibly starstruck. “Blimey, this is a pleasant surprise!” “And goodness knows you need one right now.” Technicolour Tarquin, the film director who had worked with Locomotion so long ago, beamed warmly as he approached the young stallion. “Marvellous to see you again, dear boy; and might I say what a remarkable marefriend you have here. Hornette, isn't it?” “Why, yes, sir,” replied Hornette shyly. “Good to meet you at last, Mr Tarquin.” “Pleasure's all mine, my dear; and I do apologise for the despicable reception you've received. It sickens me to think that so many creatures still see you changelings for what you were during Chrysalis' reign, and not for your true personalities – your potential, even,” continued Tarquin emphatically. “I've been making a point to include changeling actors in my most recent film, for instance, and let me tell you, their ability to take on any form they want has been absolutely invaluable! Couldn't be more grateful for it.” “Progressive as always, eh?” observed Locomotion. “And you don't harbour any doubts about those guys?” “My dear fellow, of course not! Even less so since I visited the new Metamorphian Embassy to appeal for said actors.” Tarquin gestured over his shoulder towards a tall changeling mare in a smart green dress. She was black in colour with yellow stripes, almost like a zebra, and her ruby eyes gazed kindly upon the young couple as she held out a hoof for them to shake. “Locomotion, Hornette, I'd like to introduce you both to Trade Commissioner Melissa. She's been a, er...a good friend to me ever since she agreed to help me with this film of mine.” “Good evening to you both.” Melissa spoke with a refined, gentle tone that commanded awe and respect as they shook hooves. “I've heard a great deal about you and your exploits, and I consider myself very fortunate indeed to make your acquaintance.” “And there I thought I was the only changeling here,” murmured Hornette with a wry smile. “Ah, but what better changeling to attend this Gala than the liberator of our kind?” continued Melissa. “I was hoping my own presence here would be enough to show that we changelings are by no means the degenerates that many ponies see in us, that we too can be cultured and refined just like them. Alas, I seem only to have attracted scorn and derision; but now we have you two here to turn opinion around.” Locomotion looked ashamed. “Yeah, and a fine job I did of that too. Snapping at the snobs like that – it's not like they'd listen to an angry young stallion like me now.” “They asked for it, Loco,” pointed out Tarquin. “You may have been aggressive in your approach, but the important thing is that you were standing up for Hornette, giving them the telling off they deserved.” “And now you have the chance to do so more formally,” finished Melissa. “Show them you'll fight for our rights both here and beyond, and do us changelings proud. We all owe it to you, Locomotion, and I for one would consider it a great service to our nation.” “You think so?” “I know so.” Locomotion gazed all around him at all the smiling faces; the solemn, apologetic smile from Blueblood, the looks of encouragement from Tarquin, Melissa, Fleur-de-Lis and Fancypants, the supportive grins from Trixie, Cadance and Shining Armour, the benevolent smirk from Discord, the show of eagerness from Flurry Heart...and most of all, the warm, loving smile from Hornette who had finally managed to cheer up again. Touched by their show of solidarity, he turned back to Melissa. “Very well, Commissioner,” he conceded bravely, “I'll give it my best shot.”