//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 // Story: Twilight Sparkle Becomes a Changeling Queen, Book 1 // by bahatumay //------------------------------// Three ponies trotted down the hallway, laughing. Two looked fairly nondescript, a pink pegasus and a green earth pony, and the third was a purple alicorn wearing large sunglasses. The pink pegasus managed to regain control of herself. “So then the colt says... -snrk!- He says, ‘Well, yeah. How do you think I got the horseshoes?’” Twilight burst out laughing. “I didn’t see that one coming!” she gasped. “Nopony ever does!” They continued down the hallway, turned... and then froze as they came in sight of a large purple barrier. Twilight frowned. That definitely wasn't supposed to be there. In fact, it looked like Shining Armor's protective shield, but… no. It couldn't be. She decided to ask the nearest guard. “Mineral Spark? What's up with this?” The larger stallion shrugged. “Nobles passed a law requiring the shield. I'm pretty sure that's the fastest they've ever agreed on anything, to be honest.” “A shield? For what?” Mineral raised an eyebrow. “You really need to ask? The changelings.” “The changelings?” Twilight asked, surprised. “Ugh,” the green earth pony spat. “Changelings. Nasty little buggers.” “You said it,” the pink pegasus said, a noticeable shiver running up her back. “I still have nightmares about that day.” Mineral Spark didn’t respond. Clearly, he was torn between agreeing with the two ponies, and risk offending Twilight; or say nothing about that at all. He decided to change the subject. “So the shield remains up for now. If any changeling tries to get in or out, they’ll get the shock of their life.” Twilight grimaced. This would definitely throw a little wrench into her plan. It probably wouldn't stop her; but it would stop Ithir and Nemri. She adjusted her sunglasses, suddenly mindful of what they concealed. Actually, on second thought, it might stop her. She pushed that thought out for now. In any case, the whole castle would be on high alert for changelings. She needed to be outside for a proper test. The pink pegasus exhaled. “That’s a relief,” she said. “I gotta say, I’ve got more respect for the Royal Guard after that invasion. It’s a tough job, and I never realized it.” Mineral Spark was far too professional to react, but Twilight could swear she felt him light up a bit. That made no sense, but that was the only way she could describe it. Either way, the conversation soon ended naturally, and the three began walking away. “How are we going to get out?” Twilight wondered aloud. “You want out?” Ithir asked rhetorically. “We'll get you out.” “How? It's not like I can just ask Shining Armor to pull down the shield, or have one of you impersonate some high-ranking guard to give the order,” Twilight protested. “Oh, no,” Nemri said. “You're thinking too big.” * * * “I… I can’t believe it,” Twilight breathed, looking back at the shield behind her. “We’re out.” Ithir chortled at Twilight's expression. “I told you, we'll do anything for our queen. If she wants out, we'll get her out.” Twilight grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. “I still can't believe that worked,” she said. “That bit about the magic affecting your pregnancy was brilliant. I mean, I knew it was you, and I knew you were acting; but it was so convincing. You really looked nauseous and everything. I thought you were going to actually hurl on his ponyshoes.” Nemri shrugged. “We're changelings,” he said. “We're very good at improvising.” “You'd be surprised at how many inventions ponies use that were invented by changelings making things up as they went to try and keep their cover,” Ithir agreed. The three ponies continued walking down the street. Twilight led the way; she knew this city. At Twilight’s nod, they headed into a deserted alley. She glanced around and reassured herself that they were alone. “All right,” Twilight said, bringing them in close. “I want to see feeding in action.” “Harvesting,” Ithir corrected. “The law of the hive is only take what you need to live, and transport the rest back for the hive for distribution.” “You can store emotions, then?” Twilight asked, wishing she'd brought something to take notes with. She knew she had forgotten something. “Yep.” He demonstrated by patting his abdomen. “We keep it here. As far as I know, there's no real limit, and we can store it almost indefinitely. As long as it keeps moving, that is. If you let it sit for too long, it goes rancid.” “That’s why Jarret’s always stirring his mixture,” Twilight realized. Nemri nodded. “I've heard that if we absorb an excess of energy, we can actually convert it to a kind of fat, like ponies do,” he added. Ithir laughed. Clearly, he doubted this was a possibility. “So how do you harvest?” Twilight tried again, scratching at her opposite foreleg. Nemri spread his hooves. “We're doing it now. It's a little trickle of ambient love, but when you're starving, it works.” He quickly shut his mouth when Ithir glared at him. “See, somepony—cough Sir Golden Buckethead himself cough—decided it would be a good idea to implement more safeguards, so we've had to keep on the down-low,” Ithir said. “Families are setting safe-words and setting strict schedules and such, so temporarily being a family member is out. We're scraping the bottom of the barrel here.” “So what do you do?” Twilight asked. “Lust, for one,” he said. “It's bitter, but it'll keep you alive.” “We can't take too much, though,” Nemri interjected. “Too bitter and the nymphs don't like it.” “How do you get that?” Twilight was almost afraid to ask. Ithir grinned. “Like this.” He poked his head out again, and brightened at something only he saw. He ducked back in out of sight, closed his eyes, and burst into flame. When they had faded, he wore a new disguise, this one the form of a light blue, young earth pony with a poofy mane and a fluffy tail that almost seemed to be naturally raised. He walked… no, he strutted down the sidewalk, swaying her hips and swishing her tail. Twilight poked her head out. She saw what he'd seen: a pony who looked as though he had had a bit too much to drink already, lounging against the wall. He brightened as she approached. “Hey there,” he said, bringing a hoof up in a quick attempt to fix his mane. Ithir batted his long eyelashes and flicked his tail, but didn't slow his pace. The drunk pony reached out a hoof to swat at Ithir's flank, but Ithir rotated his hips and was able to avoid it easily. Thrown off balance, the drunken stallion lost his footing and collapsed. Ithir stopped and looked down with a coy smile on his face. He looked up hopefully, but Ithir just flicked the underside of his nose with the tip of his tail. “Better luck next time, cowboy,” Ithir said with a sultry wink. The stallion watched as Ithir walked down the street and didn't deviate his gaze until she had turned down another alleyway. Twilight could only stare. “Are all stallions that… depraved?” she managed to squeak. Nemri shrugged. “Enough are,” he said. “Especially when drunk.” Twilight stiffened as another pony approached from the other side and sidled into the alley, but she relaxed when Ithir revealed himself. “And this is what it looks like,” he said. He twitched and bent over, like he was a giant cat coughing up a hairball. A good amount of hacking later, he stuck out his tongue to show a tiny dark blue ball sitting on the tip, so small it could have been mistaken for a piercing. “Interesting,” Twilight said slowly. Their earlier interaction suddenly made sense. They didn't have anything; so they traded their food. Ithir swallowed it again, grimacing a bit as he did. “What I wouldn't give for a little love,” he grumbled. Nemri sighed. “We can dream,” he said. Twilight noticed that Ithir didn’t correct him. This would not stand. She wouldn’t have her changelings feeding on the dregs like this. This was a conundrum, and she loved nothing more than a good challenge that required good thinking to overcome. “We’re going back to the castle,” she announced. “I have some planning to do.” She turned and walked purposefully away. Ithir watched her walk away; or, more accurately, watched the strands of hair she was leaving behind gently drift to the ground. He leaned down and whispered to his brother. “Do you think we should tell her that her coat’s starting to fall out?” he asked. Nimri barked a laugh. “Not a chance.”