• Published 26th May 2016
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How Spike Kinda Sorta Maybe Married a Changeling - somatic



Spike doesn't understand what went on, either. All he knows is that several thousand bugs call him "daddy" now.

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2: What.

Slowly, slowly, consciousness returned to Twilight. Her eyesight was a bit blurry at the moment, but judging from all the crystals around her, she was back in her castle. One hoof went down to scratch her rump—it felt like it had a splinter.

“You know, Spike, I had the most awful dream. You were…” She froze. “And I was… and the changelings…”

No. She was not in her castle. She was in a cavern, she was huge, and a five-hundred-foot tall dragon had his neck bent over her.

That dragon had some explaining to do.

Twilight started to rub her eyes, before her flailing forelegs almost crushed a battle tank. “Oops, sorry.” Her horn flickered as she reattached the turret. “Just… just glue that back on, okay?”

With great effort and no small amount of physics calculations, she clambered her way upright, shattering a few more gems while she was at it. Finally, she was level with Spike, violet eyes looking into emerald.

Spike could swear a few blurts of steam came out of her ears. “So, um, I’m sorry you couldn’t make the wedding, but their weddings are kinda a rush, so we’re planning on having another pony-style ceremony so the family can come, and…”

“Spike.” Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips drawn thin.

“Uh-huh?”

“What.”

A nervous grin crawled onto Spike’s face, looking like it did not want to be there. “Suppose I should start from the beginning, eh?”


Spike’s wings cantilevered out from his sides as he glided over the desert, warm winds lifting him higher. A thin stream of dragonfire leaked from his nostrils, pointing him towards a particularly juicy gem deposit—the spell was an adaptation of Rarity’s.

The breeze was strong, carrying the magical traces of jewels to his nose. Unfortunately, prime gem-hunting weather was also prime sandstorm weather, so Spike kept an ear pricked for any camels or ponies who might be in need.

The blowing dust didn’t bother him, though it did mean he’d have to take a bath in the ocean before Twilight’s birthday. He still didn’t have a gift for her, of course. He could go back in time and get Starswirl’s autograph… no, wait. He’d done that three decades ago.

Book? Nope, banned from the bookstores. It wasn’t his fault that parchment was flammable.

Something handmade? Maybe a decorative ashtray? Some macaroni art? Twilight would love it, of course. She’d love anything from Spike, no matter how lame it was. Twilight was cool like that.

Spike sighed, whipping the sand around him into vortices. He needed something awesome, something… not an ashtray. She didn’t even smoke.

He needed…

Spike heard a yelp coming from below. Worry about Twilight later. Ponies were caught in the sandstorm, and from the sound of it, there were a lot of them.

He started to call out to them, but decided a screaming dragon would only make the situation worse. Dust parted around him as he dove, a quick adjustment to his gem-seeking breath turning it into a life-signs detector. Powerful wings cleared away the storm as he searched—there! A small band, totally in the open. Didn’t they know these deserts were dangerous?

“It’s okay, guys, I’m here to help!” Hoping they wouldn’t run away from him, he braced himself against the wind and strode over.

They were… a bit darker than the ponies he was used to, to say the least. One of them had an injured leg—well, they all had injuries, but this one looked serious—and the others tried to shield him with their wings, clicking and whistling in a language Spike barely recognized. He doubted they could run away if they tried.

“Uh, hey.” Sand pelted Spike’s back as he stood between his new friends and the prevailing wind. “You okay?”

One of them shook his head. Her head? Spike couldn’t tell.

“We are injured, O Stupendous Lizard! The Que—mother will be most displeased!” They rubbed their wings together, making a sound somewhere between a hiss and a snap.

“Do you… know the way home?”

Two of them spoke at once. “Yes, yes! We remember well the path!”

“Well, that’s… good, then.” Should I report this? Spike wondered. They certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Then again, looks could be deceiving… especially in their case.

He couldn’t just leave them out here, could he?

Yes, he could. But he wouldn’t. Some of them looked little older than foals, for heaven’s sake.

“Hmm. It’s too stormy for you to walk, and in this weather, you’d probably fall off my back if I flew you around, so… you know what, just huddle up tight and we’ll sit it out together.”

“What is this, ‘sit it out?’” Simultaneously, they all raised their eyebrows.

“You know, just wait for it to be over.” Spike saw comprehension dawn on their faces, though it was a bit tricky to read their expressions.

The injured one spoke first. “Ah. That is what our… mother tells us to do when the others go on rai—trips to the bazaar.” Another chirped beside him. “Yes, Mother tells us that often, because we are stupid and get in the way of the infiltra—merchants.”

“Uh-huh. Merchants. Right. Just… just curl up a bit, and I’ll wrap my wings around you.” The shadow of his scales fell over the huddling mass, but he saw one of them had a quivering lip. Or as close to quivering as it could get.

“What’s wrong, little guy?”

“Does the vast serpent plan to devour us?”

“What? Me? No, I… wasn’t planning on it. I don’t even know what you’d taste like.”

Another of them spoke up. “Our flesh is reminiscent of termites, with undertones of spruce and raspberries. It would pair well with…” A sharp jab silenced him.

A taller critter apologized for him. “He wishes to be a waiter in a suckling establishment. He does not realize that is impractical.”

Spike’s eyebrows wandered heavenward. “A what now?”

“Place where nourishment is prepared.”

“Restaurant?”

The others huddled together, clicking and chirping. One of them scratched notes before they turned back. “Yes. Res-taur-ant. That is the correct term, which we knew beforehand and in no way have written down on flashcards for future review.”

“Yeah. Okay, then. Storm’s about to clear, so I’ll take you back to your hive once it’s over.”

They clicked. “Hive? Whatever do you mean, O Scaled One? We are but humble ponies…”

“You guys forgot your disguises. You’re literally just standing around with bug wings and bug eyes.” He didn’t have the heart to tell them that one of them was also still wearing his Hive 453 Reunion t-shirt.

A moment’s pause. “Oh.” As one, they let out a low moan. "The Queen always told us we were slow! All we wanted was to go out and bring her something pretty back! But we failed! We failed!” Black oil dripped from their eyes.

Spike didn’t know what to do, an occurrence that was becoming disturbingly frequent. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll forgive you… I hope?”

Their eyes locked onto his. “That is what we fear!”

“What?” Spike said ‘what’ quite often. He had gotten used to it back when Twilight kept spouting magical technobabble at him, and it since had become one of his trademark phrases.

Twilight. That’s right. He still needed to get a present for her. And these changelings needed someone to take them back home.

There hasn’t been a scientific article on the changelings for centuries—Spike knew, because Twilight would have been jumping and shouting with glee for months if there had been. If I could get insider access…

“You know what? I’ll take you home and make sure you’re safe.”

The black critters, as small to Spike as ants would be to a pony, swarmed over his back and chirruped directions as he carried them to the hive.


Queen Chrysalis could not see him coming, but not for lack of trying. Her eyes wandered over the desert, hoping to catch a glimpse, a glint of carapace… nothing but blurs.

“Those fools have been gone far too long. Always skulking off, like mother doesn’t know best… what is it, Asaf?”

“Hrrk!” The drone’s voice came out strangled by fear.

“Speak up. I know you can.”

“They’re… right above you, my queen!”

Chrysalis felt the sand quake as something massive planted four clawed feet upon it. Wings released gusts of wind as they furled up, forcing her to blink away the dust. She sensed pheromones in the air, scents she had been tracking for a while…

There was another beast there as well, but Chrysalis would deal with him later. Fear pheromones dripped from the drones, but they often were fearful when someone came to apologize to her.

“Ah, it seems my idiot children have come flying back with their tails between their legs. Sneaking out of the hive again, are we?” She flicked her head around and chirped a few words, dismissing some of the swarm that gathered around her. From the little Changeling Spike knew, it sounded like Disband the search party.

The changelings crawled on their knees to her. “Yes, Queen. We are most worthless, Queen!”

“Hush. I care not for your… Reza, what is wrong with your leg?” She sneered at the wounded changeling.

Note: drones have names. Twilight’d want to hear about that.

“We were running through the desert, running from bad ponies, and they chased us, and I tripped, and I hit my knee on the rock, and I could barely see it because of all the dust, and I… I… I’m sorry!”

“Silence!” Despite the sandstorm, her voice was clear. “Get up!” Venomous green haloed around her horn.

“Queen, I can’t…”

“You will if I say you can.” She caught the changeling in her magic, dragging him up onto his hind legs. “A broken nymph is no use to me…” Spike saw her mouth open, each sharpened tooth spotless and white. He started to move, but…

The mouth closed around Reza’s injury. Spike heard slurping, sucking, a nimble tongue working its way into every crevice, then a sound like a toilet coming unclogged as Chrysalis pulled her lips away. Green slime oozed from her mouth and from Reza’s injured leg.

Correction: Reza’s formerly-injured leg. Wherever the slime crept, black armor resealed itself, blood flowing back into its veins.

“There. All better, Reza. You know I told you to stay in the hive where it’s safe.” A hoof caressed Reza’s carapace, making sure the chitin had healed correctly and no extra holes had formed.

Her eyeslits narrowed. “I simply do not want to imagine what might have happened if this dragon had not…” Two quick twitches from her snout. Yes, that was certainly a dragon’s scent.

Eyes sprung open again. “Dragon! Changelings, there is a dragon in our midst! Quickly, stay behind me! Your queen shall deliver you from—”

“Uh, Chrysalis, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt your children.”

Chrysalis paused, one hoof crooked, her legs taut and ready to charge. Fire seethed under her skin as love reserves flooded her horn.

“Say again?”

“I’m not going to hurt them. I brought them back, didn’t I?”

“Yes. No doubt you forced them to lead you to me! Drones, prepare the catapults!” Changelings scurried around black trebuchets, machines that looked like they were built of molted exoskeletons.

“No! No, I don’t want to hurt you! Not right now, at least.” Spike shrugged his shoulders, sending tremors through the ground and disturbing a few drones sleeping in the tunnels below. “I would like to see your caves, though. For research.” For Twilight.

Chrysalis sniffed the air a few more times, flicking her tongue to lick up the pheromones. “I do recognize that smell. It’s been a long time, Spike.” He would keep his word, if her memory was correct.

And either way, he could be useful. His fluids would breed many strong drones… Yes, she was the Queen of Love, and a king like him could give the hive what it needed.

The fire cooled. Her horn dimmed. “You sheltered my children as if they were your own.” Her lips curled up. “Probably let the cripples suckle at your own udders, even. Odd. Dragons are rarely so…”

One of her drones chirruped next to her. “What was that, Asaf?”

“I said, males do not possess udders, my Queen.”

“You sure?” Gears turned in the Queen’s insectoid mind. “Ah. Well, that would explain why my stallion disguises have met with mixed results.”

She lowered her hoof, staccato clicks informing her drones to let the dragon pass. Changeling claws brushed away sand and unveiled the camouflaged entrance to the hive.

“Come, dragon.” Her tail flicked, leading him closer. The scent of insects and slime almost overpowered Spike’s enhanced senses, but he persevered. For Twilight.

Behind them, the sun set on Spike’s last day as a bachelor.