The Cuckoo Child

by Nyarlathi

Chapter Two: Gambling With Half-Truths

As he and his clutchmates shed their first skin, Black Hat ran through a mental litany of cursing that would have turned the air blue if he'd had full access to his voice and powers. It itched like nettles all over, he felt painfully pressed against his too-small skin, and thrashing only seemed to get a piece off at a time. It was infuriating. Thankfully, he'd discovered during his first instar – larvahood – that while the main hivemind was still a blurry cacophony, he could connect to and exert influence over the others in his clutch, being the most developed mind. Thus, after some pointed mental prodding, the entire nestful began to gnaw at one another's skins gently, scraping off the outgrown layer. The sense of relief once it was over was palpable, a chorus of tiny sighs rising from the nest. As grubs rather than larvae, though they looked very similar, they had grown to almost the size of a newborn foal and, to Black Hat's exultation, they had developed a set of four stubby limbs, like the legs of a caterpillar. Finally he could approximate walking, no matter that he stumbled! Finally, he could gesticulate!

It was actually the sharp burst of emotion he emitted that alerted the caretakers to the end of the clutch's moulting, and it wasn't long before he and the others were being congratulated by not only the caretakers, but also the mental presence of the Queen. Words were still not coming through clearly, with the broadcast aimed for all of them, but the sense of love and pride in them most definitely did, and Black Hat was caught off guard by how touching it was. He honestly didn't know how to process it, and in such a very young body, he found himself reacting as many babies would to being overwhelmed. To his utter embarrassment, his body burst into quite uncontrolled sobs, while his mind frantically railed against it. From the soothing being broadcast, it seemed that the caretakers understood at least partially, though this didn't keep him from his mortification. At least, he mused as he drifted into weary slumber, the others were unlikely to remember this.

The next time he woke, he turned his attention immediately to the task of exploring. If he was going to be stuck in a hive, he wanted to know the lay of the land. To this end, he badgered the other grubs in his clutch into keeping watch as he unsteadily wiggle-walked out of the nest to attempt some sneakery. His new legs sorely needed the exercise, and his curiosity was insatiable. He didn't get far, though, as while his clutchmates did warn him, he had neither the speed nor the agility to evade the caretakers' horn magic. Peeping indignantly at the top of his little lungs, he flailed his limbs at them, doing his best to ignore their indulgent chuckles, and stuck his tongue out at them as he was settled back into the nest. One of the others gave him a sympathetic pap, which he appreciated tolerated, as he grumbled in incoherent baby noises.

His legs were too tired for another attempt, so it was time for plan B – trying to exert his mental influence across the hatchery. Little by little, he worked to increase his range, focusing as he mentally demanded that the other grubs and larvae show him what they could see. Pushing himself like this was taxing and disorienting, contributing to a vicious migraine pounding at his head like anvils. He was, however, nothing if not stubborn, and no stranger to pushing through pain. Though he couldn't keep his squishy little body from whimpering and crying under the strain, not yet, he remained focused, gathering information. That is, until he passed out.

---

Sclerite could already tell, this grub was going to give her ulcers. Her poor, frantic caretakers hadn't been prepared for a single bullheadedly stubborn new grub to work themself into exhaustion apparently trying to draw information from the entire hatchery. Nor, for that matter, had said entire hatchery bursting into tears in the aftermath helped in any way. Certainly, this obvious precociousness was a clear sign of potential, but it was also something of a nightmare to deal with in practise. How did one persuade a pre-verbal infant to take it easy? They were meant to be taking it easy already! The grub in question stirred in her forelegs as she held them close, puzzled amber eyes sliding slowly open.

Once the nictitating membranes had slid back after the lids, there was a startling amount of intelligence in those eyes, realisation and what looked like exasperation dawning quite visibly. Her curiosity piqued by this, Sclerite gently probed the grub's developing node of the hivemind. What she found was eye-wideningly astonishing – not only were there indeed complex emotions present, but coherent thoughts. The truth was too odd and too well-guarded for her to discern, her cuckoo child's past memories hidden from her, but she thought she knew what this was. Such things were rare, but when a grub displayed such precocious self-awareness, it was believed that the spirit of a deceased changeling had returned to serve their hive once more.

It was, she hoped, a good omen – and perhaps hope that her recalcitrant child could be reasoned with. She couldn't treat them like a tiny adult, with how small, fragile and easily overwhelmed a grub was, but perhaps she could converse with them. “You need to have more patience, dear one. Your faculties will obey you in time – some things can't be rushed.” Her child blinked, clearly startled, and pulled a face – further confirmation that they understood her mind-speech when broadcast directly to them one-to-one. Gently, she aided them as they tried to respond, guiding their broadcast. Predictably enough, it was a somewhat petulant assertion that they – he, seemingly – wanted an end to the tedium as soon as possible. He... that he already had a pronoun in mind fit with her supposition.

“What supposition?” Ah, had the cheeky little grub been gleaning her surface thoughts? Deciding to oblige him, and to see how he would react, she explained what her mind had tumbled to, to his thoughtful humming. “I did have a life before this one.” He admitted slowly, after a full minute's contemplation. Her heart pumped a little faster in her chest at this eerily verbose confirmation, and both a flutter of thrill and a touch of hope danced in her eyes, tempered by the uncertainty about how to handle rearing a reincarnate child – particularly not knowing how much he remembered. Unbeknownst to her, he was filled with a considerable amount of tension as well, quite aware that he was taking a gamble with this, and one that could well blow up in his face just as easily as failing to pass for a true child might.

More hesitance in her tone than she would usually allow her subjects to hear, she asked softly whether he had been one of her children before this, and something akin to sympathy flickered in his eyes and mental presence as he shook his head. “I first hatched long before your time.” He responded softly, and while it was a disappointment to know she hadn’t been granted back one of her lost little ones, it was also a relief to both not be left trying to work out who, and to realise that she would still have much to teach him. The world had changed a lot, the changelings with them – and after so much time and this rebirth, she wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’d forgotten a lot.

Her tone gentle, she asked if he remembered his caste, and he blinked quizzically for a moment. After that moment, though, he smiled at her. “I was a ruler, long used to being able to make my own decisions and handle myself and others… I have no memories of being dependent on others.” A ruler… that both explained his stubborn force of will and sent another frisson of thrill through her. On the one hoof, she had been longing for an heir, and she could hardly do better than one who had already ruled in a past life. On the other hoof, it would be harder for such a grub to look to her for the guidance he’d need – and easier for resentment to build.

“Thank you for telling me, little one… While you must heed your now-elders in your new youth, I will bear in mind that you have an older mind than your peers. I will do what I can to provide for your needs, but you must be responsible with this.” She replied at length, projecting an air of unflappable calm – in contrast to the turmoil she truly felt. “I can nurture you into a ruler once more, but you need to accept that many things have changed. You are small, vulnerable, and far from your full strength. Proceeding as though this was otherwise will only get you hurt or cut your return short.”

He was silent for a while, a sour expression spread across his features. For any of the Royal caste, accepting another’s rule was… difficult at best, she knew – though it rarely began so early – so his acquiescing nod came as a relief. “Very well. You speak with sense, and you are the reigning Queen… and my new mother.” His mental voice was tinged with something akin to wonder at that last phrase, an endearing note to it, and she favoured him with a warm smile, giving him an affectionate nuzzle. Even if he was once a long-dead Royal, and presently unnervingly precocious, he was still her infant son.

---

The conversation with Queen Sclerite had been somewhat fraught on Black Hat’s end as well, as he’d tried to calculate on the fly how to handle the situation without being squished as an imposter. Being able to read what the Queen was projecting had been a great boon, but that was nothing to the cover story she gave him practically giftwrapped. He couldn’t be sure whether that was something that ever truly happened or not, but it was a huge relief to not have to spend his second childhood attempting to pass as a normal sprog. He only knew the bare minimum about these beings, even if such a prolonged facade wouldn’t have been taxing anyway. As for establishing himself as a once and future ruler, that was both icing on the cake and a good cover for his intended level of independence in this hive society.

Following his debuting conversation, he focused on trying to coach his mouth and voice to form words rather than babbled syllables, so that he wouldn’t have to rely on apparent telepathy alone. That was limited enough as it was, so far. Having regular meetings with his new mother, as profoundly odd a feeling as it was to have one of those, helped to give him something to look forward to. Both her stories, which he was quite sure were intended to give him an introduction modern times, and her softly-sung lullabies played a role in calming him, giving him something to ground himself with. As this caused his tantrums to gradually subside, he was increasingly aware that it was a relief to both the caretakers and the other young. That amused him, and he planned to undertake at least some pranks when he had greater control over his faculties, to keep them on their metaphorical toes.

He was, at least, making progress with his toddling, with regular practise. The effort required to do this very simple thing was far more than simply frustrating, but he was nothing if not stubborn, and slogging away at that had been something to do while his time had no other demands on it. From time to time, he tried coaching his clutchmates in toddling too, for something more to occupy himself with, and, well, because they were his. It was still sinking in that he had a family now – and if he was honest with himself, he’d been isolated for far too long for that to not be a good feeling, however weird the situation. Not only that, but a feeling he didn’t want to lose. An important distinction, in a world heavily favouring the defeat of designated villains, to which category his new species was generally considered to belong.

From what the Queen had been telling him so far, he’d been able to work out that Equestria was still bereft of a Moon Princess, though he as yet had no idea when that might change. He had time to grow and to plan before that perforated poser Chrysalis threw discretion and secrecy for her entire species under the Harmony bus. Wary of the gaudily cutesy friendship railgun, he resolved to pay close attention to whatever he was taught, and learn to read changeling script as soon as possible, the better to absorb as much information as possible. If he was to be among those dear Chryssie flung into the awareness of the local incarnate deities, he needed to be able to figure out damage control ahead of time.

Author's Note:

A look at Black Hat as a grub.

Comments

[Flod]

So far, super good!!

The only thing I noticed that... should be changed is when both Sclerite and black hat talk in the same paragraph.

1 idea per paragraph, 1 person per paragraph. ;)

[Nyarlathi]

9032214
I'm glad you're enjoying it. ^w^
Ah, I thought I'd edited that already - sorry, I guess I might have copied from the wrong draft, but it's fixed now.

[Black--Soul]

Cuteness overlord i love this Story already