//------------------------------//
// Chapter 10 - Perennials 
// Story: Hope and Changeling 
// by FrontSevens 
//------------------------------//

I hate coincidences.
 
On the day I just happened to start assuming responsibility, I became responsible for the destruction of a city’s port.  The owner of the dock also happened to be good buddies with Fillydelphia’s chief of police, and was having a chat with her on the dock at the time we showed up.  The chief of police also insisted on leading me to court when I was so nauseous I wasn’t sure if I would be able to walk straight.
 
And if I couldn’t walk straight, what would stop them from accusing me of drinking and driving with all of that “cider” on board?  Oh, shoot….
 
Nevertheless, I was in hot water.  The police chief was right next to me and leading me into town.  The rest of our group was following us, along with the dock owner.  I didn’t have time for court, let alone what going to court implied.  I had already been in jail once and didn’t feel like going back there again.
 
Fighting delirium, I argued with the police chief.  “Look, it was an accident!  We were right in the middle of that swarm of shocktopi, and-”
 
“I know what happened,” she said, agitated.  “I was there.  I get it.  It was an accident.  I’m just doing my job, here.  We’ll settle this at the courthouse.”
 
They’d settle it, sure, by locking me in jail.  But there was bail for this sort of thing, right?  “But we could pay for it!” I exclaimed.  I turned to the wheat sisters, and then to Lucid, who bit his lip and shook his head.  Uh oh.
 
“Like I said, we can settle it there.  Just relax already,” she said without looking at me.
 
But we can settle this before!  I was pulling out whatever I could to get out of this.  “We could just rebuild the dock.  That wouldn’t take too long, right?”
 
Scruff Face shook his head.  Thankfully, his anger had abated when we had told him what had happened, but he was still somewhat bitter about it.  “I’d need the lumber first, and that might take up to a week to ship, plus a day to cut.  Then, it’d take two more days for you to rebuild the dock, even with the help of your friends,” he explained.  “I can get a team of pegasi and unicorns to rebuild it in two hours.”
 
Okay, we couldn’t build it.  Maybe… oh, if there was some supreme court, and Celestia was there, then that could kill two birds with one stone!  “We’re not residents of Fillydelphia, though, so does that mean we can take it up to-”
 
“You’re residents of Equestria, for Celestia’s sake!” the police chief snapped.  “Just shut up and we’ll settle this later.”
 
Okay, okay, fine.  I was just asking.  I stayed silent for a while as we headed into town and took in our surroundings.
 
Fillydelphia was a nice little port town.  It could’ve been like my universe’s Philadelphia, had the industrial revolution not happened.  No, it seemed more like New Orleans; its downtown area had character.  There were shops instead of open markets, and each one seemed itching to tell a story: a bait & tackle shop with large, plaster fish; a furniture store giving off a strong and pleasant floral aroma; a café with extravagant Middle East-type decorations.
 
It was pretty cool.  I mean, I’d never really travelled before, and to stop and take part in the culture would’ve been neat, but I knew that we were on a mission.  We weren’t there to sightsee.  We were to go straight to Canterlot, making the best use of everypony’s time.  No hiccups… if we could help it, that is.
 
Oh, and speaking of hiccups, I had almost completely forgotten about Wheat Flour.  I slowed down to meet the rest of the group.  Wheat Flour seemed to be alright.  She didn’t have any visible injuries, and was up and walking without a limp.  Just to be sure, I asked her, “How are you feeling?”
 
“She’s fine,” Whole Grain answered.  “We have to be much more careful from now on.”
 
Wheat Flour agreed with a silent nod, and I turned forward, watching the police officer and Scruff Face lead the way.
 
As we walked, Lucid said to me in a low voice, “See what I mean?”
 
“What do you see I… should… huh?”
 
“Policemares,” he said.  “They’re not uncommon here.”
 
Whole Grain glanced at him.  “What about policemares?”
 
“Oh, I was just pointing something out to Gouda, is all.”  Lucid said, looking straight ahead.
 
Whole Grain almost ran into somepony, a little distracted by Lucid.  “And what about policemares needs pointing out?”
 
The policemare’s ear twitched.  Whatever Lucid was getting at, I hoped it wouldn’t get us into more trouble….
 
He shrugged.  “Just the fact that she’s a mare.”
 
“And what’s wrong with mares?” Whole Grain asserted.
 
“Nothing inherently,” Lucid said.  “I simply believe that stallions happen to be underrepresented.”
 
Oh, he had a point.  It could’ve been the opposite of feminism here.  Was there even a name for that?  Manism?  Maleism?  Masculism?  Ooh, that one sounded legit.  Masculism.
 
“Nothing inherently?” Whole Grain repeated.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”
 
Lucid cleared his throat.  “Well, if you really want me to elaborate, some mares have a tendency towards stubbornness and pride.  It’s only an observation.  Princess Celestia, for instance: I could name a slew of her political decisions that reflect that.”
 
Whole Grain looked much too irked to hear them, and retorted with, “Well, if you ask me, I think some stallions have a tendency to be complete-”
 
“That’s enough.  Let’s just drop it for now,” I said, getting the feeling that it wasn’t going to end well.  All drama could do for our group was waste time and tire us out, and we needed neither of those at that moment, much less at any time during this ordeal.
 
Neither of them looked like they wanted to drop it, but they did anyway.  I sighed.  If we couldn’t get along, that might be a hiccup in itself.
 

~ ~ ~

 
Well, Judge Honeydew was polite.
 
Once she had understood what had happened, she gave me two options.  I could spend two weeks in jail.  Although it was an accident, the fact still stood that the dock had been damaged on my account and I couldn’t pay for repairs.  My second option was that I could work at the judge’s apiary for two days.  I didn’t know what that was, but two days is shorter than two weeks, so I chose that option.
 
We were walking into a more rural part of the city, with Honeydew leading the way.  She was a unicorn about as tall as I, with light green skin and yellow hair tied behind her head in a bun.  She was nice, too, and had been very understanding and friendly about the situation. 
 
“I know you folks aren’t from around here,” the judge said, “but this won’t take long.  If you want, you and your friends could stay with me overnight.”
 
“Thank you very much, Ms. Honeydew,” Wheat Flour said.  “We appreciate it.”
 
“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” she said with a smile.  “You folks were from Manehattan, right?”
 
“Vanhoover,” Whole Grain answered.
 
“Vanhoover?  And where were you headed to?”
 
“Canterlot,” Whole Grain answered again, more flatly.
 
She looked confused for a moment, drawing something in the air with her hoof.  “Then, how did you…?”
 
“It’s a long story,” Whole Grain said.  “We ended up in Manehattan by accident.”
 
Honeydew paused for a moment and then let out a hearty laugh.  “Manehattan?”  She laughed some more, but I didn’t join her.  If I knew why it was funny, I might’ve also laughed, but I hadn’t had much to laugh about over the past few days.  She wiped her eye.  “I’m sorry, but oh, is that a hoot!  I’d love to hear all about it later.”
 
There was another pause as we continued up the road.  We approached a modest and well-kept cottage, with long flower beds lined up in front of it.  There were also a few warehouses on the side, and several trees planted in a neat line around the rest of the property.  She introduced it to us as her house.  “Once we’re inside, you can drop off your things.  Then, I can set Gouda up with some work.”
 
“Are you sure you’re not needed in court?” I inquired.  If we could sneak out without her knowing…
 
She shook her head.  “Oh, they could go a few days without me.  Not much happens in this city.  It can get so boring just sitting in my office.  I like it out here.”  She extended her hoof out to her property.  “I just have this love of nature.  Peaceful, serene – they should move the courthouse out here!” she added with a chuckle.
 
“I agree, it is a wonderful day today,” Wheat Flour added, looking up at the sky and then down at the flower beds near the road.  “And your perennials look lovely.  I like the way you arranged them.”
 
Honeydew cocked her head and smiled.  “Are you a fellow gardener, by any chance?”
 
Wheat Flour blushed and looked away.  “No, not a gardener, but I do like flowers.”
 
“Ah, so an enthusiast,” the green pony said as she looked over her front yard.  “Well, my flowers are my pride.  All my favourites are out here in the front, but there are some regional ones in my big garden out back, too.  That’s where Gouda will start today; I want to put in a new bed in the back.”  She addressed the rest of our group.  “You three aren’t bound here, however.  You can go out to the city, or stay and talk with me… whatever you wish.”
 
Lucid looked back in the direction we had come from.  “I might just head back into town.  I’ve got some colleagues here to catch up with.”
 
After a brief pause, Wheat Flour spoke up.  “I can stay and help Gouda tend to the flowers.”
 
“And I will, too,” Whole Grain said immediately after.
 
“You don’t have to stay here,” I said to them.  I was the one required to do community service, after all.  “Have some fun out in the city or something.  You could even go home, if you really want.”
 
Wheat Flour shook her head.  “It’s only a few days, Gouda.  It’s no trouble at all.”
 
“Alright, then,” Honeydew said.  “Well, you three can come with me to the shed.  With three more pairs of hooves, I can get some gardening done!”

 


~ ~ ~


What’s the point of gardening?
 
I had never done anything like it before.  My house easily had the least-maintained and ugliest lot on the block, with the exception of the old house a few doors down from mine, which hadn’t been lived in for three years.  That house’s lawn hadn’t been mowed in so long, the length of the grass rivaled that of a savannah.
 
Yes, I did mow my lawn from time to time; I think it’s required by law.  I’m lucky that it’s a small lot, and half an hour with a push mower is all it takes.  Some areas of the lawn were starting to wear away and thin out, but I didn’t mind.  The less there is that I need to mow, the happier I am.
 
But gardening?  What a waste of time, money, and energy.  Who cares about flowers, or making the little hills, or putting in bricks around trees?  Honeydew, sure, but not me.  All it does for a garden is make it look nice.  No practical application whatsoever: it just looks nice.
 
So that’s what we did for an hour or so.  I didn’t need a shovel for digging, apparently.  I had asked, but Honeydew said my hoof would work just fine.  And it did: its shape worked well in scooping dirt out of the ground.
 
Wheat Flour was there with me, and we hadn’t spoken in quite some time.  There wasn’t much of a need for communication, anyway; I’d dig a hole, and she’d fill it with a flower from a cart full of flowers that Honeydew had had ready for us.  Eventually, though, she spoke.  “What was the hive like?”
 
I figured I could start with what little I knew about it.  “It was big.  It reminded me of a beehive, except it was green, and squishy.”
 
“Oh, I should rephrase that,” she said, looking down at the flowerpot in her hooves.  “What was living in the hive like?”
 
Uh oh.  I wasn’t sure of how long it’d be until I’d have to start making things up.  “It… wasn’t great.  I don’t want to go back there, that’s for sure.”
 
I finished digging the hole.  Wheat Flour lifted a flower out of its pot and placed it in there.  “Did you have any friends?” she asked.
 
“No, no I didn’t,” I replied, thinking of 6 F 26.  “They weren’t really friends.  They were just people that were around me and that I talked to sometimes.”
 
She blinked.  “People?”
 
Oops.  “Changelings,” I corrected, swatting a fly away.  “That’s what I meant.”
 
She put the empty pot back in the cart and selected a blue flower.  We had been alternating between that and red flowers.  They had names, but I couldn’t remember them.  I didn’t have the time or interest to try remembering them, either.  I started digging again.
 
“How do you like ponies?” she asked.
 
I looked at her, unsure of where she was going with this.  From what little I could read off of a pony’s face – and with a pony as hard to read as Wheat Flour – she seemed only innocently curious.  I figured it was safe, and I wouldn’t experience a repeat of Lucid and Whole Grain’s conversation earlier that day.
 
“Ponies are nice,” I replied.  “Except when you’re a changeling; then, they’re not as nice.  They’re afraid.”  Remembering Taff, I amended, “Well, most are afraid.”
 
She nodded, and I continued to dig.  She stopped asking questions after that, probably realizing that she herself had been one of those afraid.  I felt bad for her.  She had only helped me because I hadn’t given her a choice.  I had pinned her to the ground.
 
But what about the wedding?  She made the choice to help me then.  And I was the one pinned down, not her.  So, why?  Was she still scared of me?  Did she pity me?  Or were ponies just nice?
 
I looked back at Honeydew’s house.  Even though it sounded too good to be true, there had been plenty of evidence so far for that case.
 
First of all, Honeydew.  Instead of sentencing me to two weeks in prison, Honeydew had offered me just two days of simple gardening.  Not only that, but she was treating us to lunch.  I probably couldn’t stomach it after that morning, but it was still a nice gesture.  Then, there was Uncle Flax.  He was willing to open his home up to his family and a stranger he probably hadn’t seen before.  He had even offered us money.
 
And, of course, Aunt Millie.  She had offered me food and shelter, much like Uncle Flax, but I suspect that she did it despite my species.  Even though she knew I wasn’t a pony, she was willing to accept me into her own family.  She had not only given me a place to sleep, but she had given me her trust.  And she had given it so freely, it seemed unnatural.  People being kind for the sake of being kind….  Maybe it wasn’t as rare of a thing among ponies.
 
“What were you two talking about?” Whole Grain said as she sat down next to me.
 
Wheat Flour reached over to put another flower in.  “Gouda was telling me about life in the hive.”
 
“Oh?  Is that what you talk about with Lucid, too?” Whole Grain asked.
 
I nodded, looking down at the flower’s little blue petals.  “Yes, it is.”
 
“Okay then, go on.”  She tipped the watering can in her hoof over the row of flowers we had just planted.  “Don’t mind me.  I’m just watering,” she said tersely.
 
So she continued watering and I continued digging.  I focused on my hoof as it scraped more dirt out of the hole.  My tail was starting to itch – oh, I had a tail.  How could I have forgotten about that?  I looked back and observed the short, red thing.  Maybe it was like fur or something – after a while, I just didn’t notice it.  Oh, speaking of fur, I hadn’t noticed that, either.  I stroked the soft fur on my back with my hoof.
 
Whole Grain, however, had noticed the silence.  “I said go on.  Talk about hive life.”
 
I turned around to dig, no longer distracted by my tail or my fur.  “I don’t feel like it right now, sorry.”
 
“Don’t you?” she said through gritted teeth.  “You can talk about it with my younger sister, and you can talk about who knows what with Lucid, but not with me, huh?”
 
Well, no.  Not really.  Wheat Flour came to the rescue, though.  “He is uncomfortable talking about it.”
 
“Yes, I know.”  The flowers were probably drowning with the amount of water Whole Grain was giving them.
 
“That is what he had been explaining to me,” Wheat Flour continued, ignoring her sister.  “He and Lucid have talked of many things about changelings, including some private subjects that he would prefer not to share with other ponies, especially those of our gender.”
 
Whole Grain almost retorted, but she decided against it.  With a toss of her red hair, she tipped up the watering can and moved to some flowers a bit further away from us.
 
Boy, was Wheat Flour a quick thinker.  I gave her a thankful smile, and she returned it.  It felt good to have Whole Grain off my back.
 
Just then, we heard a loud and far-off noise.  It sounded like a cannon or a bomb, and we looked around to see where it had come from.  When I looked up at the sky above the western fields, I noticed something strange.
 
There were a few black dots in the sky, slowly moving upwards.  One of those black dots became bigger and more distinct.  I blinked, in case it was something I had been imagining, but the dot was still there, and getting bigger.
 
Then, in a split second, the black dot turned into a black blur, and that blur collided with one of the trees surrounding Honeydew’s property with a loud thwack.  The tree bent back, so much so that the trunk gave way and snapped, letting the top half of the tree fall over.
 
The tree hadn’t burst into flames or anything, so I assumed it was safe.  I ran over to it, and I could hear the wheat sisters following behind me.
 
A black form rolled out of the tree.  I quickened my pace; that form looked awfully pony-like.  When I got close enough, I noticed it looked much more like a changeling than a pony.
 
In fact, that was exactly what it was.
 
I looked over the body.  It seemed to still be breathing, but I just kept looking it over, like an idiot.  I didn’t know what to do; I hadn’t been trained in any sort of first-aid.  So, I asked the first question that came to my mind.  “Are you okay?”
 
He replied with a muffled groan.  Wheat Flour also looked him over and looked around.  Again, not having a clue of what to do, I waited for her to say something.  Finally, she said, “We need to take him inside.”
 
Whole Grain began, “But-”
 
“He’s hurt.  He needs help,” Wheat Flour said.  She hooked her arms under the changeling’s shoulders and looked at her sister.  “Help me lift him onto your back.”
 
I’ll admit that I hesitated, too.  What if this was the general – or sergeant, whatever – or 6 F 26, or some other changeling that’d recognize me?
 
Whole Grain looked out into the distance where the changeling had flown from.  Without saying anything, she sort of crawled under the changeling as Wheat Flour laid him over her back.
 
As we hurried to the house, I looked back at the tree.  Sawdust was still hanging in the air, the trunk having been ripped apart from the force.  Not only did a normal-sized flying creature have enough force to snap a full-grown tree in half, but said creature was still alive.  Oh, and ponies can do magic and breathe on the moon.
 
…Did physics apply to this world at all?