For Queen and Crazies

by Mcstuffins

Icebreaker

There are few things painful enough to not only make me want to scream, but completely cut off my ability to do so. This easily fell into that category, because although I could still hear the blaring ringing noise, everything else was quite silent. Maybe if I just pawed at the dirt in front of me, I could crawl out. Then I could go home, curl up, and rot in my bed for a few years. Yeah, that sounds nice, i’ll just-

“O-oh…” The sleek, chitinous forelegs hovering in front of my vision were a decent reminder of exactly what happens when a changeling encounters severe bludgeoning. Even the vibration caused by that simple statement sent ripples of pain along my sides, which may or may not have been a punctured lung… I think I have lungs, at least. That was a question for another day, however, because ‘near-death’ is not the proper attitude for a biology lesson. I weakly tried to pull myself to freedom, but only managed to dig pathetically shallow trenches in the mud whilst whimpering like a puppy mere seconds before it is punted through a window. A sudden thump rang out from somewhere in front of me, and I weakly scanned around for the source.

There lying on the ground a few feet away was the strange, purple ball of bipolarness I called Berry Punch. Judging from the look of pure shock and horror in her glassy eyes, she had fainted out of terror. And although this would be completely hilarious under any other circumstance, I could actually bleed to death internally because she forgot to breathe deeply and count to ten. Not the worst way to go, I suppose. So long as you ignore the lack of feeling in my hind legs, and the intense agony basically everywhere else, this is actually rather comfortable. Maybe it would be best to relax, and think about the situation at hoof.

Yeah, i’ll just put my head down for a bit, that sounds nice. Even my eyelids agree, a tad bit of rest never hurt, right? The mud greeted my face kindly, but I was already asleep before I hit the ground.

---

The jet black cavern walls echoed with the continuous drone of buzzing wings. Not a single drone looked out of place as we approached the crowd gathered in the massive chamber. The air above us was absolutely brimming with small dark figures darting in and out of the cavities covering the walls, each one lit with a dim green light. The armor clad guards were scanning the massive congregation of changelings, and picking out grubs from the crowd.

One such guard approached me, “You there!” He bellowed, “Come with me.” He reached out to pull me onto his back, but something tugged me away.

“W-wait…” a feminine voice spoke hesitantly, and I turned around to see yet another changeling; certainly female, judging by the voice. “Don’t take him, please!” She pleaded, her voice betraying hesitence to stand out against the guard’s orders.

“I am entrusted by the queen herself with this mission ma’am,” he said tersely, “and by my eye, he looks plenty old enough.” Without another word, I was torn from the stranger’s grasp. She screamed out at the guard, begged for my release, and finally began sobbing as I was flown off into the cavern. The last thing I saw was her face, for one brief moment.

And not a single thing distinguished itself; I never knew that changeling.

---

Something jerked me awake, though I had no idea how. Last I checked, I was bleeding to death beneath an oversized toothpick with a fetish for broken bones. And as strange as that thought was, the next thing I saw was even stranger. Berry Punch, looking frazzled, had a stick pointed at my muzzle. Well, not really a stick, more like a twig.

“Where’s Diflex, and why did you eat him!?” She shouted nigh hysterically, emanating more terror than the previously mentioned puppy as it was punted through a window. On an unrelated note, I really wanted to try that.

“Ueghhhhhhhh.” I said eloquently in response, attempting to rub my eyes, and then realizing that my forelegs were tied up. My head hung limply, and looking down at my abdomen, I could see that somepony had dressed my various wounds with bandages. I must’ve landed on something sharp when the tree hit me, because my stomach looked like a patchwork quilt.

“Uh… O-okay, that doesn’t answer my question though!” She said less ‘enthusiastically’.

“It’s not what it looks like...?” I said lamely

“Not what it-” she sputtered, “you’re a changeling!” I winced at that.

“You don’t have to yell…” I muttered, visibly wilting as the pit in my chest grew. Stress really does tend to turn me into a pansy, doesn’t it?

“J-just shut up for a second!” She demanded, pacing back and forth in the clearing. Why she thought it was a good idea to drag us both deeper into the woods was unclear.

“Let me explain, it’s not as bad as it looks.” I said, regaining some of my calm demeanor. The rope currently keeping me immobile was noticeably weak, it was only a poorly tied vine afterall. I immediately began to subtly work my hooves out.

“Oh no, I don’t have any interest in what you have to say.” She threw me a wicked glare. “Unless you tell me where Diflex is, you’ll be explaining this to the guards.” I blanched at that; guards didn’t hold any love for changelings, and not in an ironic way either.

“Dammit Berry, don’t-” I started.

“I won’t, so long as you tell me where he is!” She interrupted, waving the twig in my face for dramatic effect.

“-make me do this.” I finished with an unamused huff. She assumed I was begging before I even started begging! She raised an eyebrow at that.

“Do what exactl-” My foreleg shot out faster than she could comprehend, and just like that, the twig was in the other hoof. I held her forele- you know what? Let’s call it an ‘arm’, the whole ‘foreleg’ thing is too Equestrian for my taste. Anyways, I held her arm in a vice, slowly rising from my position on the ground until I towered over her.

“Doesn’t feel good being cut off in the middle of a threat, does it?” I asked casually, tearing the twig from her grasp and hurling it over my shoulder in one smooth action. “Now then,” I said, standing almost a full head taller than Berry, “I think you need a few pointers on when you should, and shouldn’t drag a tied up stallion into the woods.” Alright, that was a little more creepy than I’d like it to be. Her mouth opened and closed sporadically, like an alcoholic fish with no time for the kids, because he’s a fish and they don’t generally have much free time to begin with.

“Diflex is fine, a little banged up, but fine regardless.” I answered cooly, feeling like a total supervillain, with a cape and robotic eyes. Her expression quickly filled with anger, the same kind not available to robotic eyes like mine, one I shall nickname ‘The Shooty Look’.

“What did you do to him you parasite bastard!” She yelled, reminding me that I had good reason to have cowered from this mare just moments ago. A few birds scattered from the canopy, chirping their displeasure at commuting at this time of day.

“Well, a tree fell on him first of all, and then he was tied up and interrogated with a stick.” I deadpanned, unsure of whether or not I should be angry at this point. She gave me an incredulous look.

“Right, and I’m sure he’s secretly a prince too.” She said, glaring at my ‘apparent’ attempt to lie.

“Infiltrator, actually,” I said with a touch of pride. “It’s considered one of the highest honors back in the hive.”

“And what a fantastic example of elitism you are; defeated by a tree.” Her sass was not to be trifled with. I glared at her menacingly.

“I. Am. Diflex.” I emphasised each word for extra… Emphasis, I guess.

“Prove it.” She said, returning the glare. I stared into her eyes a second longer, then quickly scooped up sand from an anthill in my magic. Our angry staring contest continued as I superheated the clump of sand. With a mildly complex, and familiar spell, the newly created glass molded into a sculpture, and finally…

“Nice to meet you,” I said pleasantly, the small shot glass hovering between us, “my name is Diflex.” Her anger subsided slightly at that.

“How… I thought changelings couldn’t replicate talents?” She said, pupils contracting into pinpricks as I spoke softly, almost whispering.

“We can’t.” And that was all it took, she collapsed onto her rump and started to hyperventilate. I laughed softly at her reaction, momentarily forgetting the severity of the situation. “And now that you know the truth…”

“W-wait,” She gasped, “Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t know!” She raised her arms in defence, prompting me to raise an eyebrow.

“I was just going to suggest that you keep quiet about it…” I said, grinning down at her.

“...I hate you.” She muttered darkly, dusting herself off as she stood once again.

“Why, whatever would you say that for?” I asked in mock distress, fighting back another grin.

“You’re a thief, and a brute.” Her statement gave me pause, causing me to cock my head. I suppose she had a point, but at the same time, I had to disagree.

“Are you familiar with ‘The Cookie Thief’ by Valerie Colt?” I asked, dredging up the memory from an old mission long before the whole wedding fiasco. Her ears perked up at the name, and she reeked of nostalgia; a slightly bitter odor that tended to linger for awhile. Then, she began to recite it, strangely enough.

“A mare was waiting at a train station one day
With several hours left in her long stay
She hunted for a book in the station’s shop
Bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop
She was engrossed in her book but happened to see
That the stallion beside her as bold as could be
Grabbed a cookie or two from the bag between
Which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene
She munched cookies and watched the clock
As this gutsy cookie thief diminished her stock
She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by
Thinking "If I wasn't so nice I'd blacken his eye"
With each cookie she took he took one too
And when only one was left she wondered what he'd do
With a smile on his face and a nervous laugh
He took the last cookie and broke it in half
He offered her half as he ate the other
She snatched it from him and thought "Oh brother
This guy has some nerve and he's also rude
Why he didn't even show any gratitude"
She had never known when she had been so galled
And sighed with relief when her ticket was called
She gathered her belongings and trudged away
Refusing to look back at the unpleasant display
She boarded the train and sank in her seat
Then sought her book which was almost complete
As she reached in her baggage she gasped with surprise
There was her bag of cookies in front of her eyes
‘If mine are here’ she moaned with despair
‘Then the others were his and he tried to share’
Too late to apologize she realized with grief
That she was the rude one, the ingrate; the thief.”

She smiled sadly, sighing as the poem came to a close. “My mother used to read it to me before bed, anyways, why do you ask?” She asked after an extended silence between us. The hostility ebbed out of her tone, and for a while, we were just two friends discussing a fun little rhyme.

“Thieves though we may be, changelings are something else as well.” She looked at me with genuine curiosity, silently asking for an answer.

“We’re starving, and you aren’t.”

Author's Note:

Better?
Worse?

I dunno, I personally liked writing this chapter. It was pain to get a suitable draft, and I had to scrap it entirely at one point. Still, the final product is... Satisfactory for my tastes. The poem took a little bit of tweaking, but it adds a nice touch (IMO). I hope it was worth the wait, as I always do; we've still got plenty of questions to answer. I know you're all dying to know who could've POSSIBLY patched up Diflex while he was unconscious?

These are the questions that keep me up at night.

http://www.simplybeing.org.uk/index.php/poetry/90-the-cookie-thief-by-valerie-cox (Link to the lovely poem by Valerie Cox.)

Comments

[Smashing Skunk53]

That poem was a nice touch, it sounds familar, but the name escapes me.

[Mcstuffins]

4314053" The Cookie Thief" by Valerie Cox.
I heard it once and for some reason it had to go in this story somewhere

[Smashing Skunk53]

4315931
This is what I was thinking of. Though the artist probably got inspired by the cookie poem.

[Mcstuffins]

4316665 What is it with Trixie and crackers?