The Cuckoo Child

by Nyarlathi

Chapter Eight: An Unusual Alliance

When he sank into slumber this time around, Sparrowbee had elected to turn in early, both because it had been a long day and because he wanted to avoid embarrassing himself again. The others were still sending mental images to one another, but it wasn’t too hard to block that out and sink once more into dreaming. He was more lucid than the previous night, and less unhurried – rather than take a leisurely swim, he dreamed himself up a jetpack. Cackling to himself as he fired up the pack, he launched himself into the skies at improbable speeds, bouncing between the stars like a pinball until he collided with the surface of the moon with a pomph sound. Sure, space didn’t really work like that, but who cared? It was a dream, after all.

No longer needed, the jetpack melted away, his form stabilising a bit more towards his nymph appearance in its absence. Right. He was in roughly the right place and still coherent – that was good progress. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his posture and projected his voice – but not his hivemind presence, as the person he sought was no changeling. “Princess! Are you there?” He called, swivelling his head as he searched the horizon. No sign yet, but he wasn’t going to just stand around like a lemon and wait for something to happen. Setting off at a trot, he continued to call out, growing increasingly frustrated.

He was just wondering whether this would be another bust – when the sound of another, louder pomph from behind him had him whirling around, a big grin splitting his features as he beheld the immense equine regarding him with amused catlike eyes, one brow raised. “Who seeks Nightmare Moon?” She enquired in regal – and somewhat loud - tones, clearly giving him a close examination. Had she ever seen a changeling before? He didn’t know if Chrysalis had ever clashed with the Royal Sisters before, but there was something in the Princess’ eyes, and he couldn’t help wondering if he’d overplayed his hand. Well, nothing to do but press on, he supposed.

“Sparrowbee, your highness.” He began, maintaining eye contact as he gave her a small but apparently respectful bow. Etiquette was vital when first conversing with either royalty or a mark, and certainly for both. “I’m aware that I’m not one of your little ponies, but I am an admirer of your night sky, and I wanted to greet you.” Her brows lifted at this unexpected eloquence, but something in her expression had shifted, a hint of gratification amidst the suspicion. After so long alone, he was reasonably hopeful that she’d take the chance – but the moment of silent consideration remained somewhat tense.

“Did thy Queen send thee?” Came her arch response – not the warmest of tones, but far from an outright dismissal. Still, he wasn’t best pleased to discover that she already knew something of changelings. He shook his head, to what seemed to be her pleased surprise, though it was muffled. Peering up at her with the most earnest expression he could manage, he explained that after hearing her legend, he’d decided himself to seek her out. “Why? What is there for thee in this endeavour?” Hints of genuine curiosity were clear enough for him to discern, and he gave her a bright smile and a buzz of his wings to both disguise his relieved glee and turn up the cute.

“More than one reason, really.” He piped up, careful not to let the cuteness lapse. If the bear back home could manage it, surely so could he. “I wanted to see for myself that you were real, first – and now I know you are, I want to make a deal.” Smiling at her in what he hoped was a disarming way, he watched bemused incredulity dance across her features. A lone child of any sort proposing a deal was odd enough, but a changeling not even Queen-sent? It came as no surprise to him that she asked just what kind of deal he had in mind. “Well, from the story, what you really wanted was ponies who’d be awake to admire your night, right?” He began in seeming earnestness, to her querying nod. She was clearly wondering what he was getting at. “My point is this – not only can changelings adapt our sleep schedule, we have the ability to customise ourselves – and, by extension, create customised ponies. By the time you break free, I will be either in command of my own hive, or working towards that position. With that authority, I will be able to have nocturnal versions of your little ponies created and raised to appreciate the splendour of your night.”

That was a bold claim, and there was no hiding her astonishment – but was this too good to be true? Narrowing her eyes, she leaned down to peer suspiciously at the brazen little bugfoal. “Thy intention is to usurp Chrysalis?” She doubted very much that the self-proclaimed Queen of the changelings was the sort to groom a successor, not when she might rule indefinitely. It seemed this was a meeting filled with surprises, though, as he scowled and shook his head, explaining that Chrysalis was Queen of only one hive. That the changelings were a scattered assemblance of city-states, each young Royal either setting out to found their own or inheriting their Royal predecessor’s.

The idea of even more changelings than she’d thought was somewhat disconcerting, if she was honest with herself – Chrysalis’ alone had devastated both Trot and Timbucktu in their day – but… it was telling that in all this time, there had been no clashes with those other hives. “What is in this for thee, striding meals? We will have no part in an arrangement that would see our new subjects drained to husks.” She proclaimed, arching a brow at her little petitioner. He’d presented quite a carrot, but she suspected a stick to go with it – or perhaps that this carrot was a stick painted orange, so to speak.

“A pony drained cannot give love again, your highness – I propose a more renewable, symbiotic arrangement. We would raise and care for the night ponies, who in turn would love us – which we could feed from less aggressively than if it were not freely given. Nopony would be a slave, and noling would starve.” Sparrowbee explained, keeping his tone earnest and level. The subject of feeding mechanics hadn’t technically been explained in class yet, but he had badgered a caretaker into giving him an overview of the basics, the better to plan ahead. He was aware that his speech pattern was well above the expected level for his supposed age, but he was banking on Nightmare Moon not knowing how a changeling child was supposed to develop.

“What I desire is your forbearance where my hive is concerned, that whatever the outcome of your return, my hive will be vouched for by your royal highness and exempt from retributions provoked by any other hive. You would be a welcomed guest at my hive, should you choose to visit, and noling would hide the night ponies from your sight.” He realised as he took a breath that he was no less lucid than before – more, in fact. A consequence of the Moon Princess’ power? He hoped it meant that she wished to give his offer more than cursory consideration.

It took a few moments for the oddly loquacious nymph’s plan to sink in, the royal mare giving the idea considerable thought as she tried to figure out whether there was a catch. “Would they be educated, free to pursue their careers?” She demanded, trying to catch him out – but he nodded, well aware that she’d never tolerate anypony she called her own being treated as a pet or farmed creature. While he didn’t inform her of the extent to which he intended it to be so, he claimed that the night ponies would be considered as much a part of his hive as any of the changelings. Her expression gradually eased from its suspicious severity, and she smiled slightly. Between that and the assurance that she could see her new subjects at any time, the offer was sounding too good to pass up, and his reasoning understandable in its self-preservational tactics. “How wouldst thou like to seal this arrangement? No treaty paper signed in dream can be read outside of it.”

This, Sparrowbee had to admit, was a valid point – and he wasn’t about to assume that anything written in a dream would remain the same, even if he could have read it. His expression of careful thought was pleasing to see, from what he could tell of her expression – Nightmare Moon detested fools, and had he given the matter little thought, she would have considered him not worth striking any form of deal with. “A verbal agreement to abide by the arrangement, to be put onto page following your return.” He suggested, an idea occurring to him. “I’ve heard of a pony form of oath called a Pinkie Promise – would that be amenable?” Her features assumed a faintly puzzled mien, as she hadn’t heard of any such thing. A modern custom, perhaps? It didn’t strike her as odd that a changeling would be aware of such a thing, though, given how easily they could blend in among ponies.

After giving it some thought, she asked to hear the words of the oath. ...Was that… some form of playground vow? She had almost forgotten that she was dealing with a foal, and a foreign one at that. To look at him, it seemed that he truly believed this childish string of words to be a binding agreement. That was… kind of endearing, actually. With an indulgent smile, she began to regally intone the words with as much dignity as she could infuse them with. “I, the Princess of the night, do swear to uphold the agreement made this night with the changeling Sparrowbee – cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Performing the actions he had described was almost a step too far, but when she saw how he lit up with a bright smile just for her, she felt warmed and did not regret it.

In turn, Sparrowbee assumed a seemingly childish attempt at a dignified posture to deliver his own version of the same oath. “I, heir to Queen Sclerite, do swear to uphold the agreement made this night with the Princess of the night – cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” He repeated, the motions making a return appearance. Unbeknownst to either, a tiny pink filly stirred in her sleep, somewhere on a rock farm many miles from either of them. A Pinkie Promise had been made and sealed – no take-backsies.

Comments

[Lexiebommel10]

Pinky knows pinky alwase knows
This is pretty good writing where are all the ppl

[DF]

[The Agreement]

Interesting.

“I’ve heard of a pony form of oath called a Pinkie Promise – would that be amenable?”

*snort*

A Pinkie Promise had been made and sealed – no take-backsies.

Beware the Pink One!

[Black--Soul]

The pink manis was awekend This is a amazing turn of events i didnt see coming