//------------------------------// // The Science of Swagger *Interlude no1* // Story: A Changeling's Endeavors into the Subtle Art of Wooing Mares // by airbournesquid //------------------------------// "So... Can you climb up walls?" "yes." "Poop web?" "No." "Kill somepony and then lay eggs up their-" "No." Thunderlane chewed on his lip thoughtfully. Caramel sat opposite him, disguise-less, with a can of beer in his hooves. "Do you have an unusual attraction to ultraviolet light? "... Maybe." "Hmm." Yet again a silence fell over the two of them. Conversation so far had turned out to be painfully awkward, just as Caramel had suspected it to be. Finding out that your friend was a giant bug-spy was a big shock for anypony. Thunderlane was simply settling into the fact that his best friend was a changeling. That, and the two beefy, armoured ponies with spears staring at them from across the room wasn't exactly comforting. Celestia, true to her word, had sent two guards over to his place. So far, he'd gotten naught out of either of them but their names: Wild Rain, a stallion from the Solar guard, and Silent Song, a mare from the Lunar guard. As of yet neither had really... done anything. They just stood there, watching and waiting from the corner of the room. Caramel frowned; was this what Luna and Celestia had to put up with all day? Legions of big, scary guardsponies staring at them like they might suddenly explode? They'd only been here for a couple of hours and already he was getting peeved. A sudden poking at his belly brought his attention back to his friend. Thunderlane had reached over and was now prodding at his underside. He led back into his chair with a thoughtful hum. "Neat?" asked Caramel, raising a brow. "Took the words right out of my mouth." "Right." "..." Caramel winced internally. Being a changeling hadn't ruined their friendship, but it sure made things a hell of a lot more awkward. He chalked it up to the Equestrian mind-set. Naturally, being herbivores, ponies were slow to trust other species. Griffons in particular due to their carnivorous diets. Lucky for him, Thunderlane was a little more accepting than your average Equestrian (Perhaps all those holidays he took to Griffonia and the Diamond Dog Provinces had a little something to do with that). "So," said Thunderlane, sinking further into his chair. "Applejack left you?" "I think it's more of a time out thing." "... So she left you?" Caramel sighed in defeat. "Yeah, pretty much. Although I don't think things are beyond repair, mind you she's making things pretty hard to fix." "Well, you know what they say: 'Tartarus hath no fury like a mare scorned.'" "But I've went through, like, two and a half Tartaruses worth of fury already!" Caramel moaned in exasperation. "I've been thrown out of a window, had my face pummelled, lost my marefriend, got poisoned by an assassin and threatened by the ruler of Equestria herself!" he sighed, slumping back and swigging dejectedly from his beer. "I mean c'mon, doesn't that count for anything?" "Of course it does, she's just playing hard to get." said Thunderlane matter-of-factly. "First lesson to understanding mares: being angry just means that they want you to try harder." "That doesn't sound very accurate." "Trust me, I make a living off of this." "I thought you made a living off of your job at the weather team?" "Shut up and listen." said Thunderlane, albeit jokingly. "You see, love is like politics. You've gotta have a quick tongue, an eye for detail and most importantly," he leaned in closer to whisper to Caramel. "you've got to learn to lie." "Lie?" "Yes, lie." confirmed Thunderlane. "Observe. You see Silent Sing over there?" he whispered, pointing discretely to the Lunar Guardspony. "Silent Song." "Right. Well, *ahem* hey, Silent Song!" Silent Song turned her head to Thunderlane, her vampiric features as always betraying no emotion. "Yes Sir?" "Has anypony ever told you that your coat shimmers like a field of poppies beneath the waxing moonlight?" observed Thunderlane casually. Caramel choked back laughter. 'Like a field of poppies beneath the waxing moonlight'? That sounded like something straight from a bad poem! Silent Song said nothing, continuing to stare at Thunderlane and the changeling beside him blankly. Caramel shivered beneath her unmoving, cat-eyed glare. Those slit pupils were really off-putting. Thunderlane turned to Caramel, grinning victoriously. "See?" he said. "She wants me." Caramel was about to berate his friend for his self-righteous antics when he noticed the smallest sliver of emotion seeping from the batpony. The taste of affection was slight, but unmistakeable. Thunderlane read the surprise written across his face as if it were a book. "Yeah, you feel that, right? You told me you guys could feel love and all that stuff, and as far as I can tell lil' Silent Song here is getting emotional." "B-but how can you tell?" asked Caramel, staring disbelievingly at his friend. "Little tells- a raised brow, a tiny smile, that little happy glint in her eye, everypony has different tells- oh, and in case you haven't noticed, she's totally blushing. Caramel took another glance at Silent Song's face. By the gods, he was right! The tiny pink hue lingering in her cheeks was noticeable, expertly hidden Caramel had to admit, but noticeable nonetheless. The sudden wash of embarrassment that came over her was so strong that Caramel was surprised that that blush of hers wasn't bright enough to light up the whole room. How she kept a straight face thoughout all of this he would never know. "That's... incredible." managed Caramel, staring shocked between Silent Song and Thunderlane. "See, like I said, lying is key. Right Silent So-" *Thwack* Thunderlane had turned back to the batpony just in time to see her hoof rushing towards his face. He fell from his chair and tumbled onto the floor in a heap, clutching at his soon-to-be swollen eye and groaning in pain. Caramel leapt away from Silent song, swearing frantically. "Lesson number two," Thunderlane moaned, rolling onto his back. "If she finds out you're lying, then you're going to suffer." he hoisted himself back onto his chair, now sporting a bright red eye. "Case in point." Kaathe was having one of his dreams again. It was a strange experience, to know that you were dreaming. It was like reading a book written in thoughts, pictures and sounds plucked from your head. Kaathe despised it. The dream was an ugly, blurred thing, patched together with memories he'd sworn to forget. The screams of his mother, a figure striding from green flames, the sigh of a blade as it passed through somechangeling's throat, the racking sobs of a lover and the burn of her talons raking their way across his face. He tried to look away, but the dream was a stubborn thing, clinging to him and leeching away what scant amount of fulfilment a hit well executed gave him. There was no screaming or thrashing as he awoke. Just a sigh of resignation and the taste of blood in his mouth. He raised a hoof to touch his ruined cheek and was met with the same sting as always. The scar was bleeding again. Fabulous. The fire they'd started was still burning strong. Frauk still slept, splayed out on his bedroll and snoring loudly. He was led on his belly with his head lying on the ground, his engraved teeth digging into the dirt. Kaathe smiled. When he'd first found him huddled at the foot of the palace, begging for money, Frauk had been a broken changeling. No coin, no loved ones, just the rags on his back and a mind shredded by drug abuse. Begging on the palace grounds was punishable by public hanging, but something about the humungous changeling had stayed Kaathe's hoof. Beyond all of that sickness and pain and drug abuse was a changeling. A strong changeling. One who'd been willing to drag himself from the Black Shores all the way to the Royal City just so he'd have better chances at finding a generous soul. A changeling who, by what he'd told him, wasn't afraid to take the life of anychangeling, not even the ones he loved. A changeling who could be trained. He'd taken Frauk in, fed him, introduced him to the Church of All, and taught him how to kill. When he finally presented him to the Queen she had been overwhelmed with joy. Kaathe had taken a ruined changeling and fashioned him into a weapon. If there was anything in his disjointed life that Kaathe was proud of, it was Frauk. Frauk's eyelids fluttered open. The seal of Kor had been carved delicately into the surface of each eye, the work of a truly masterful runeforger. His ears twitched as they caught some distant sound. "Somepony's coming." Their disguises were on in an instant. They'd taken on the form of a pair of weary siblings on a camping trip, Kaathe being the sister and Frauk the brother. They'd spent their time travelling revising and fleshing out their backstories. Kaathe could recall his in an instant. Cherry Pop. Lived in Manehatten, 17th Hoover's street, worked in the soda industry, had a cat named Winston and was a single mother who'd just lost her only child to fever. She'd gone camping with her brother to try to forget. The mare who came striding through the hedges was an earth pony. Good. If worse came to worse, she wouldn't be able to outrun them, and ponies had a nasty habit of going missing in the forest. She had a light, tannish coat and a mane comprising of purple and navy blue. Her flank bore one of those vile sweets that Equestrians loved to feed to their children. "It's a nice night." she said, staring at them both expectantly. "Too warm for my tastes." answered Kaathe. The three changelings bowed in greeting before dropping their disguises. The newcomer swaggered up to the fire and made a seat for herself beside Kaathe, looking him over with a small, devious smile. "Well well well, Chrysalis' finest! I'm surprised. A rogue spy is no trivial matter, but hardly justifies the use of assassins of your calibre." she said. Her features suggested that she was from the Black Shores- large eyes, elongated fangs, a pleasant fullness to her face- but her accent was completely Equestrian. "You know who we are?" said Frauk. Kaathe smiled. Hearing Frauk speak to another changeling of his Black Shores ilk highlighted the small scraps of accent that still clung resolutely to his tongue. The harsh spitting of his Ks and growling of his Rs seemed all too apparent in comparison to the impressively tamed speech of the changeling mare. "Well of course I know who you are, there isn't a changeling on Her Majesty's Secret Service who hasn't heard of the exploits of the noble Ser Frauk and Kaathe. Why, when I was a child, changelings spoke of you two as the stuff of legend!" "So," replied Kaathe, smirking. "how does it feel to meet a legend?" She shrugged, diverting her eyes to the crackling fire. "I'd imagined you'd be taller, though that scar of yours is unmistakable." Kaathe let a small giggle slip from his lips, He liked a changeling with a little fire in her belly. Frauk, on the other hoof, was quite the opposite. He glared down his muzzle at her, silently challenging her to throw a quip at him. Wisely, she focused herself entirely on Kaathe. "I suppose I should get down to business, shouldn't I?" she said, shuffling uncomfortably under Frauk's iron stare. "Well, he's not dead." Kaathe's smile fell from his face. "What?" "The spy, he isn't dead." she shrugged listlessly. "I'm surprised as you are, honest. I watched him go down, puking and all the like. By all rights he should be stone cold. Then Princess Luna slam-dunked a lemon into his mouth, teleported him off to gods know where and the next thing I know he's back home. I saw him with my own two eyes, opening his door to that Pegasus friend of his." He cursed himself blind. Lemons. Of course there would be lemons somewhere. Of course the princess would know the cure to skeltgrass. Of course she be able to apply it before the poison worked its way too far into his bloodstream. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of it before? to merely comb the castle for lemons wouldn't have at all been difficult, and to be honest, he'd done far stranger things in service of the crown. It was a rookie mistake, a mistake that he simply didn't make! ... A mistake that he didn't make... What if- "I told you we should've used more poison." Frauk's gruff voice tore through his train of thought. He sighed, and tiredly shook his head. "'Less poison, more time to escape' you said. Well, look at the fine mess you've made now. the spy's still alive, and chances are those pony Princesses stuck a guard or two on him." "Two guards," cut in the mare, cringing at the look she received from Frauk. "One lunar, one solar. I saw them slip in to his house last night, when they thought nopony was looking." Kaathe stored the little nugget of information away for later. A pair of guards were the least of their problems. Now that the spy knew that they were after him, he was going to become a lot more suspicious. And a suspicious spy often proved to be very hard to fool. Kaathe had asked around the hive about the target. Skilled at changing, got top marks for infiltration and stealth and had received the best training that Her Majesty had to offer when it came to evasion. He failed utterly in combat training, although in Kaathe's experience you didn't have to be skilled with a blade to put one in somechangeling's back. It was all a recipe for a changeling who'd prove notoriously hard to kill. But if he had truly survived their first attack, wouldn't that mean that- no. Mind off of mysteries, back on the mission. "Well, that's all I've got." said the mare, getting back to her hooves and throwing on her disguise. "I'd love to stay and chat but I promised my wife I'd be only be gone the weekend." she bowed her head to the both of them before trotting back into the forest, stopping herself at the edge of the fire's loam to look back over her shoulder. "Do me a favour and make it quick for the lad, would you? He's the only one other than me who can put up with my wife's more... obsessive tendencies." She melded into the night, leaving the two assassins alone by their fire. Frauk sighed heavily, shaking his head and sinking back into his bedroll. "I told you we should've used more poison." he said crossly. rolling onto his side, facing away from Kaathe. "This is a fine mess you've made, Kaathe..." he yawned. "We'll off the spy in the morning and then get out of this bloody country once and for all. I'm sick of all this green grass and these pretty little ponies." he yawned again, slowly fading away into sleep. "A fine mess..." Kaathe offered nothing but a grunt of acknowledgement. Aye, more poison would've got the job done, although that didn't make their failure any less perplexing. He'd spoken to the one who lived within the emerald flames, and he had granted him his favour. The Spirit of Death had gave him permission to take the life of one of Yara's children, yet stubbornly he refused to except whom Kaathe had offered. That poison should have claimed the spy's life, but the actions of Kor- something the more close-minded discarded as mere luck- had saved him from death. The message was becoming more and more clear by the second. Kor had given Kaathe his favour, he wanted someone dead- But it wasn't the spy.