//------------------------------// // The Talk // Story: Mirage // by Trump-12 //------------------------------// It had taken some convincing, but Applejack and Rarity eventually agreed to let their sisters visit the hive, although they did insist on a few rules. Both of them would be checked over thoroughly by Twilight after the visit, and they would stay with Scootaloo/Mirage at all times. They would be home before bedtime too, despite their attempt to use weaponised cuteness to get a sleepover. That would not be happening for a long time yet. The visit was arranged to happen on the Thursday, two days after the Elements returned from the Crystal Empire, so as to allow some time to prepare. Wednesday Lyra walked slowly into her marefriend’s sweet shop. She had promised herself that today would be the day she faced Bon Bon, but she really didn’t want to. The illusion, damaged as it was, might not have been real, but it certainly felt good. If Trance and Bon Bon were one and the same, could they really go back to what they had before? She knew they could recover, but she was also sure that things would be different. She walked up to the counter, where she could see Bon Bon looking for something underneath, and prepared to talk, despite her hooves straining to bolt. She wouldn’t let them win. She had to know. “Bon Bon?” It came out at barely a whisper. She swallowed and tried again. “Bon Bon?” Still quiet, but at least it was audible this time. Bon Bon stopped rummaging and looked up. “Hi Lyra,” she said cheerfully, before taking in the nervous posture, flattened ears, and the aura of determination mixed with doubt. “What’s wrong?” “I…” Lyra paused, trying to find the right words. “I need to know... I need to know if you’re a… a changeling.” Bon Bon’s posture collapsed slightly, but before she could say anything, Lyra continued. “If… If you say you’re not, I’ll… I’ll believe you, but… I have to know.” If anything, that just made Bon Bon feel worse. Lyra had left her a way out, and even said she’d believe it, although the lie was obvious, even without her emotion sense. Lyra was asking the question, but she was already convinced. Denying it now would only hurt things further. She stepped out from behind the counter and closed the door, flipping the sign from open to closed as she did so, before moving to the stairs and beckoning Lyra up. They walked in silence, neither of them trusting herself to speak, until they reached the bedroom, which, while technically Bon Bon’s, they had both spent many nights in. Bon Bon walked into the middle of the room. What started as a tiny flicker of green flame quickly grew to the size of a small bonfire as the disguise burned away, before vanishing as fast as it had appeared. Lyra’s legs refused to hold her weight any longer as she collapsed onto her barrel. Bon Bon/Trance watched sadly as Lyra pulled herself together, feeling conflicted. Her/his heart told her/him to go and help, while her/his brain said that it would only make things worse. On top of that, her/his instincts were screaming at her/him to put on a disguise and hide. After what was probably only a minute or so, but felt like hours, Lyra finally spoke. “Trance? Right?” “I never use that name any more. I would prefer to be called Bon Bon, but most changelings would want you to use their real name when in their natural form, and everyling at the hive still insists on calling me that. I’m Bon Bon. That’s all I ever want to be.” “OK. Bon Bon, then. You could have told me, you know.” “Could I? If I had come to you like this, claiming that I was Bon Bon, can you honestly say you would have believed me?” Lyra hesitated. “I… maybe?” Bon Bon gave her a look. “OK, no. You’re right, but that doesn’t change the fact that our whole relationship has been based on a lie. Nothing you told me about your past was real. I know almost nothing about you. So tell me Bon Bon, who are you?” The changeling sighed. “This might take a while.” “I’ve got time,” Lyra replied. Bon Bon finally resigned herself to telling her life story. “I suppose I should start by saying that I never lied about my birthday. My age, yes, but not the day of the year. How it happened, though, well that’s a bit different. Changelings are exactly as we appear: we have some pony traits, and some insect ones, but the life cycle is far along the scale towards the insect end, although there are a few differences. “Insect queens tend to mate with their children each year, but changeling queens don’t, mainly because our genetics are unstable enough without trying to mix two different sets. Shapeshifting is our greatest strength, but also our greatest weakness. It allows us to hide and defend ourselves, but it forces our bodies to rely on our magic to remain stable. Of course, that instability leads to significant mutations in every generation, and means that simpler reproductive systems work better. Sadly, it also means that only one in ten eggs laid ever reaches adulthood.” “What?!” shouted Lyra. “But that’s hardly any.” “It’s just a fact of life for us. Three in ten don’t even hatch, and another two won’t last a year. The rest tend to die in the chrysalis at age five or so. If you survive that, you’re an adult. So much simpler than the pony system of choosing an arbitrary number. If you look like an adult, you’re an adult.” “Wait,” Lyra said. “What do you look like as foals?” Bon Bon looked uncomfortable. “Think about insects for a moment, and ask yourself if you really want an answer to that question.” “Insects? Don’t they… oh. Did not need that image.” “Moving swiftly on, and skipping straight over the portion of my life you really don’t want to think about, I joined the hive’s guard. I was good at fighting, and I rose quickly. I was promoted to the queen’s personal guard within a couple of years. Changeling warriors see a bit more action than pony ones, since hives are always squabbling for territory, so I was involved in a few fights, and I really did enjoy it, but there were a few things which didn’t bother me initially, but started to get to me later on. My reliance on others was the big one. “Being a guard meant that there really weren’t many situations where I would have love directed towards me, so I had to rely on second hand love from dedicated collectors. It was plenty to keep me healthy, and most guards are fine with that arrangement, but I began to realise I wanted the real thing. Every changeling is taught how to blend in with ponies, so changing jobs to become a collector wasn’t much of an issue, although I did have to keep a lid on some of the more violent tendencies which were encouraged in the guard. I made a couple of early mistakes, but I learned quickly, as all changelings do. “It was my fourth or fifth time in town when I first met you, although you wouldn’t have recognised me. I was the stallion who tried to cheer you up when you were trying to work out why your date with Thunderlane hadn’t worked out. I tried several male disguises, actually, but you just didn’t seem interested. I had actually given up when I tried the form you think of as me. I thought you might just need a friend to help you work out what was wrong, and I was willing to do that. I figured it would help me set up an identity in town. I was quite surprised to sense the early signs of attraction. I probably figured it out before you realised yourself. “And, I suppose, you know the rest from there. I opened my sweet shop after spending some time learning to bake, and we started hanging out, before slowly moving into dating. I’ve kept an eye out for the other collectors in town, but the only truly threatening things which happen around here are either dealt with before they reach town, or need to be dealt with by somepony more powerful than me. Between the Apple family and Fluttershy, not much makes it out of the forest, and the stuff that isn’t from there usually needs the Elements. “So that’s basically it. I became a guard, and decided it wasn’t for me, before going looking for love and meeting you. There’s not really that much to tell. Hive life can be quite boring.” Lyra spent a few seconds absorbing what she’d learned, before looking up with a smirk. “Hey! Were you that complete flank with the terrible pick up lines?” Bon Bon blushed a bright green and looked embarrassed. “Um… maybe?”