//------------------------------// // Prologue (Infusions 1: Coffee) // Story: The Queen and I, Book 1: Ponies and Changelings // by SoloBrony //------------------------------//         Changeling Hive Chrysalis: An underground cavern city, carved and tunneled beneath a mountain, and filled with the eponymous changelings.         To most of the ponies of the nearby kingdom of Equestria, it was imagined to be a dark, slimy, cramped, frightening place, filled with the hissing and buzzing of strange bug-like pony creatures, no doubt communicating messages of malice and ill-intent with hivemind-like regularity.         It was a depiction that most changelings, as they milled about their daily business in the hive, would have found either insulting or comically inaccurate. The city was, in actuality, primarily a single huge, well-lit cavern, with various small communities – called clusters – staged across it, burrowed into walls, seated on plateaus, or simply laid out across the cavern floor. The most notable noises in the hive were much like any city; conversation, movement, the occasional loud oddity, or the sound of water coming from the giant waterfall in the center; aside from said waterfall, however, the reader may rest assured that the hive is in fact quite dry.         Indeed, the common understanding of changeling society was quite flawed, though this was hardly a concern to most changelings. In fact, until recently, it was preferred this way; changelings disguised themselves as loved ones, and fed off of the love one felt for the disguise, after all. If they were discovered, it served a changeling best if they were thought of as frightening monsters, whose home must surely be such a terrifying place that discovering it would be the worst nightmare one could dream of. It made escape easier, and pursuit less likely.         But right now, one of those 'monsters' was sitting at a table in a little cafe, rubbing a hoof to one of his temples and glaring at some papers in front of him, as though his silver eyes could light them on fire through aggravation alone. To this particular changeling, correcting the image that other nations had of the changeling hive was the second-most important thing on his mind.         Right behind the divine cup of coffee that was placed directly in front of him by a cute green-eyed changeling.         “Zoli-Nyry,” he said, breathing in the subtle mix of spices, and glancing from the artistic little foam pattern up to her, “are you quite certain you aren't transforming your eye color?”         Nyry looked faintly confused, quirking her head to the side with a somewhat expectant grin. “No, my eyes are really green... why?”         “Oh, it's just that I thought they might be orange.”         “You thought I might be a Maker? Why?”         “Because I'm pretty sure only an artist could make something like this...”         Nyry chuckled as she rolled her eyes – more noticeable for the neck and facial movements than the eyes on a changeling, which have solid eyes with no visible markings – and turned to walk away, as Nihkel grinned and sipped his coffee. He was always on his best behavior at work, and so he took what chances he could to goof off.         Of course, as he quickly remembered with a frown, he still had work to do, even if he wasn't in the office at the moment. Looking down at his work thus-far, he shook his head and sighed.         “What I have here just won't do...”         “Is something troubling you, son?”         Nihkel glanced up, into a pair of solid violet eyes, framed by an old changeling's face, creased with years of worry and compassion.         “Ah! Ah, Lilo-Krennet, I didn't see you there, I'm sorry!”         Nihkel quickly jumped up, bowing his head to the elderly Speaker, which caused his green mane to briefly fall over his eyes. Realizing his faux pas, his crooked horn briefly lit with a green aura, and a flash of green flame passed over his body, transforming his hair into a small, jagged strip along the back of his neck and leaving his black head bare.         Krennet shook his head with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at the younger changeling's antics. “You needn't stand on ceremony, Ezuo-Nihkel.”         “Uh... Oh. Are you sure? I mean, this is still technically the Spire...”         “That may be, but you are not on-duty, and I'd like to think that this place serves as a little relaxed bastion of informality in this stuffy tower. May I?”         Krennet had gently pulled back a seat, motioning towards it and waiting for a response. Nihkel sighed in relief, dispelling his disguise and flopping back into his chair as he set his hair back into its usual somewhat-messy pattern, and motioned for Krennet to sit. While changelings were expected to maintain the traditional, and virtually indistinguishable, appearance in the Spire – and Soldiers were expected to maintain it everywhere – Nihkel appreciated opportunities to change it up.         “I like to think so, too, but I'd hardly want to seem disrespectful – especially right now.”         Krennet raised an eyebrow as he gently lowered himself into the seat, some tension visibly going out of his aching joints as he relaxed.         “Things certainly have seemed tense, lately. I haven't been around the Spire so much for a few months; is something wrong?”         “Not exactly. Just... well, I work under Iqqel, you know?”         Krennet furrowed his brow in confusion.         “I know Iqqel, but I don't really see how that relates. Is she difficult to work for?”         “Oh, no! Not at all, usually. No, it's just that she works really closely with Queen Chrysalis, and, well... I'm sure you've heard about how stressed she's been, lately.”         “Ah, yes. Ever since the treaty.”         “Right! Yeah, Iqqel's been on a hair-trigger ever since it was signed. She's usually so calm and collected, but lately... well, let's just say she's still meticulous in her planning, but she's a bit more exacting of those working under her right now.”         Krennet found a sly grin forming as he listened.         “Having trouble keeping up with her, are you?”         “Well, yeah! I'm not ashamed to admit that. Anyling would have trouble keeping up with Iqqel these days. She's been like a machine.”         Nihkel shook his head with a smirk, looking around the room, and absently grumbled, “I bet she'd have a cutie mark for working obsessively if she were a pony.”         “A... what? Sorry?”         “Oh, er... sorry. It's something they've had me studying. I'm writing this pamphlet to attract Equestrian tourists to the hive, and I've been reading up on Equestria as a result.”         “Tourists, you say? That's...”         Krennet began laughing quietly; while his voice was normally so soft as to sound quietly androgynous and gentle, his laugh was a deep thing, which rose into a sort of steady rumbling noise. Nihkel, for his part, simply seemed confused.         “Is something, er, what's so funny?”         “Oh, just the idea of the hive attracting tourists. Things have changed quite a lot, haven't they?”         Nihkel leaned back in his chair, letting out some tension he didn't even know he was holding as he shook his head, looking up and around at nothing in particular.         “Tell me about it! It was only a couple of years ago that we tried to invade Equestria! Now, instead of focusing on their military strengths and weaknesses, we're... analyzing how big their populations are! Trying to find ways to lure in tourists! I mean, I've been asked to go to an Equestrian musical concert so I can start taking notes on how our musical traditions differ!”         “Almost seems like a strange joke, doesn't it?”         “Yes, it does! I mean, I'm not one to question the Queen – it's just hard to adjust to, is all.”         Krennet gave a satisfied smirk, looking over towards the waitress and waving her down.         “I'm sure it is.”         “Forgive me for saying, but... you're quite old. Shouldn't all of this be even harder for you to adjust to?”         Krennet gave a gentle shrug as the waitress came around.         “The hive is ever-changing. As you get older, you get used to it.”         Nihkel paused to carefully consider Krennet's words as the older changeling placed an order with the waitress. As she walked away, Nihkel leaned in.         “You've seen a lot... do you think you could help me with this?”         Nihkel slid the papers forward. Krennet took some time to read over them, barely pausing to nod at the waitress when his coffee was set down.         “'The reader may rest assured that the hive is in fact quite dry'... Well, it does seem to focus on common misconceptions ponies might have. I suppose that's a start, but there might be differences you haven't even anticipated.”         Nihkel frowned, considering.         “How could I deal with that?”         “Maybe interview some Infiltrators who have spent time in Equestria... or, if you can, interview an actual pony here in the hive.”         “That would be hard, given that none have visited; the Cultural Exchange Treaty has been strictly one-sided, so far.”         Krennet frowned, shaking his head.         “No wonder they've asked you to write this, then. I can see how that would be very stressful and embarrassing for the Queen.”         “Yeah, no kidding. Thing is, the ponies still view us as monsters... and a few of us still want it that way. I'm not sure how to make our home sound inviting.”         “Well, focus on some differences, rather than similarities. For instance, you mentioned... 'cutie marks', was it? What are those?”         “Er... well, odd naming aside, it's a sort of... symbol, or brand, that appears on the flanks of a pony as they reach maturity. It symbolizes their special talent.”         Krennet's violet eyes lit up in comprehension, a smile forming.         “Ah, so it's like their Caste, then!”         “Sort of, I suppose. It's individual to every pony, though; it isn't like there's a big group of ponies who are simply good at fighting who form the Warrior Caste, like here.”         “Ah. That is strange... and aren't there three breeds of pony, too?”         “Four, if you count the princesses. Some have horns, some have wings, some have neither, and only the princesses are lucky enough to be like us.”         Nihkel gave a self-satisfied grin as he buzzed his buglike wings and lit his crooked horn. Krennet snorted in amusement.         “I'd hardly say they're like us, all things considered, but perhaps that's something you can use. I would guess a lot of ponies who lack them might wonder what it's like to have horns, or wings. A society that has both must seem fascinating to them.”         “Hey, that's a good idea! It makes us sound...”         “Exotic?”         “Yeah! And I guess that's a good thing, huh?”         Krennet nodded gently, taking a sip of his coffee. Nihkel smiled, putting a hoof on his chin and considering the possibilities.         “Thank you, Krennet. I had thought to avoid the differences, but focusing on making them sound appealing seems like a much wiser strategy. Heh, are you sure you weren't meant to be a Thinker?”         Krennet grinned, throwing his hooves up in mock surrender.         “Hey, now. You already knew all of the information, you just needed help saying it. What else would a Speaker be good for, after all?”         They both shared a laugh at that; it was rare that the role of Speaker was interpreted so literally.         “I suppose you've got me there. I guess it would probably seem odd to an outsider that Iqqel has a Thinker doing this sort of thing.”         “Most of the high-ranking staff in the Spire are Thinkers, these days. In fact, Iqqel's sort of famous amongst our Caste for being the exception.”         “Oh, right. It can be easy to forget that she's a Speaker, sometimes. I mean, she clearly has a talent for words, but...”         “You're not the first to think so. Many were surprised to see her emerge from her Ceremony of Names as a Speaker.”         “Oh? Did you know her, back then?”         Krennet nodded, a wistful smile appearing as his eyes became unfocused, looking into some far-off memory.         “She was already well-known, even before her Ceremony. She was... focused. Brilliant, without a doubt. My only concern was how much she kept to herself.”         Nihkel tapped a hoof thoughtfully to his chin, again considering the words of the older changeling.         “She generally seems so... in control. It never really occurred to me to think that way of her. Though, she did seem pretty upset about Cheery showing up.”         “Cheery... Yes, I can imagine how that might upset Iqqel, especially given her... origin.”         Nihkel leaned forward conspiratorially, speaking in excited tones.         “Oh, you're in the loop, huh? Yeah, Iqqel was talking about how irresponsible that was of the Queen. I've never seen her openly criticize Chrysalis like that before! But, I mean, on the day that the Equestrian ambassador showed up? What was she thinking?!”         Krennet looked shocked for a second, before slowly replying, “Ah... irresponsible. Yes, I suppose it was, given that Twilight Sparkle of all ponies showed up as the ambassador.”         Nihkel, oblivious to the momentary lapse in conversation, pressed on, “Right, Twilight! A master of magic, the Princesses' personal student... what a nightmare! I mean, I heard she 'studied friendship' or some such nonsense, but apparently she had a direct hoof in foiling the invasion! Not exactly the kind of pony you want here on a diplomatic mission while performing magical experiments Equestria would consider illegal.”         Krennet looked off at the floor to the side, unfocused as his mind processed other things.         “A cloning spell gone awry. You know, our Queen always was so gifted with magic... it's strange she would make that kind of mistake.”         Nihkel waved a hoof dismissively, continuing his hushed tones, “Everyling makes a mistake now and again. And now we have this... hyperactive orange-maned Chrysalis near-look-alike running around in the hive, throwing parties and all, and noling even knows how we're supposed to treat her! Like, is she another Queen? A high-ranking Speaker? A foreign dignitary? What's the protocol, here?”         Krennet looked back over to his companion, a wry grin forming.         “You're still so young, Nihkel, trying to categorize everything in terms of what you're already familiar with. Perhaps, if you aren't sure how to deal with her, she's something new. Just like this peace with Equestria; sometimes, you just have to accept change. I knew when I saw our Queen's eyes turn black at her Ceremony that the hive would never be the same.”         Nihkel paled, staring at the older changeling, before mumbling, “You mean you... you were at Chrysalis' Ceremony?”         Krennet nodded, leaning back in his chair, looking thoughtful.         “We thought it best, at the time, for her Confessor to be someone she recognized.”         “'We?'”         Krennet gently smiled as he clarified, “The Queen and I.”