A Crossroads
This was an awkward situation, to say the least.
Twilight was awake, and so was the Changeling Queen, and somehow in the cold light of dawn this didn't seem like it was such a good idea as it had seemed last night.
Several awkward seconds later, and both of them were getting out of opposite sides of the bed, red-faced and facing away from each other.
Nothing untoward had happened last night, but it was nevertheless an awkward situation to wake up to.
Twilight decided to take the initiative, and spoke up.
"I should be turning you in to Celestia right here and now." Twilight breathed a heavy sigh. "But I don't know where ‘here’ is, or who you are, and I'm pretty sure you are the only one who knows where the real Luna is."
The changeling digested this for a second or two, weighing her options.
"All right, Twilight. I'll tell you what: I can get you out of here and guide you through the Badlands. I will even tell you exactly where Princess Luna is."
"But in return, when the changelings answer for our crimes in front of Celestia..." The changeling queen took a deep breath. "Promise me you won't do something stupid on our behalf."
Twilight looked at her incredulously.
"Seriously? In return for the location of the Princess and escorting me out of here, all you want is for me not to make a fool out of myself at your trial?"
"No, Twilight. I'm asking you to not risk yourself on our behalf."
"We've been running too long now, Twilight. By my count, this was the third 'last attempt to save ourselves' and now, we are backed into a corner unable to run any farther. And I, Naudia, Last Queen of the Changelings, will at least face our end with some dignity."
"Your... end?" Twilight asked.
"By last count there were less than four hundred and fifty changelings."
"In your hive right?"
"No, Twilight. Less than four hundred and fifty changelings anywhere."
Twilight looked suspiciously thoughtful for a moment. There certainly seemed to be a lot of them in Canterlot.
"Most of them didn't land on something soft, Twilight." The changeling said as if reading her mind.
Twilight's eyes went wide with horror...
She'd never thought about it that way before, she had just been planning the 'real' wedding while... while...
"Most of the changelings you saw in Canterlot were what you would call starving.
"And Canterlot was what you would probably describe as an oasis, a banquet, held just out of their reach. I seem to recall that no less than thirty changelings died from starvation just after entering the city."
Twilight could remember being called in for an autopsy of a changeling, but didn't go because she was preparing for the second wedding.
"But couldn't you just eat some food?"
"No, I'm afraid not. It’s either emotions or nothing for changelings."
Twilight wondered how much of this was true or not, but she could see the look in the changeling's eyes. It was the same look she had yesterday, tempered and strengthened with the determination to see things through to the bitter end.
"Can you imagine, Twilight? Living your entire life, always hungry, only to find that there was a place where ponies threw out all their food, barely touched. The same ponies that drove you to nearly starve in the first place."
"Why are you telling me all of this?"
"Because somebody should remember. Because as a scholar you will make sure they remember the truth, and..." The fires in the changeling's eyes died down, as she looked down at the floor.
"Because I care about you, Twilight Sparkle, and I don't want to lie to you anymore."
"Where did that come from?" Twilight asked skeptically.
The changeling took a deep breath and met Twilight's gaze, only to go back to looking at the floor again because it didn't glare at her so harshly.
"What if I told you that I haven't lied to you once since the second day I was here? That over time I had dropped the Luna persona altogether because I felt guilty lying to you?"
"But you're a changeling. Lies are your nature." Twilight said.
"No, Twilight, lies are how we've survived. Emotions are our nature." The changeling walked over to her vanity and picked up a small carved box. "Do you see this box?"
"One day I received this as a gift from a changeling down in the city. At the time, I thought it looked strange." The changeling said, rubbing a hoof over the intricate designs delicately carved into its surface. "But over time I realized something about it: the carpenter had left a part of himself in it."
Running a hoof across a particular carving, each line paper-thin, the changeling went on.
"Here, he worked out his stress over day-to-day events." and the jagged lines glowed a faint red.
"Here, he woke up in the middle of the night and had to do some carving." Faint green glow.
"Here, he carved long and hard, in sorrow." Dark purple.
Twilight realized that the lit-up lines in the wood resembled the profile of a changeling, unrecognizable except for the glow.
"And do you know what he told me when he gave me this box?" The changeling stared down at it for a long moment.
"He told me 'You remind me so much of her.'"
"Who?"
"He never said."
"We aren't a machine of lies bent on world domination, Twilight. We are ponies, and somebody should try to see us as such."
"But I-" Twilight was cut off.
"But do you, Twilight? Do you see us as intelligent ponies, or do you just see a straw pony for your fears? A monster of lies to assuage your guilt?"
And with that, Naudia turned and walked into the Library, leaving Twilight to think.