The Strangers in Ponyville

by PhycoKrusk

The Other Stranger

After the additional oaks had been planted and raised, the central tree that had originally been the Golden Oak Library remained a library, as well as Twilight’s and Spike’s apartment, but additionally served as Twilight’s office and was the closest thing to a court that she had. When she and Driftwood entered, she turned promptly toward the room just off the kitchen, nodded to the Guard outside of it, and then opened the door and followed Driftwood in.

Her office was nearly an extension of the library, although each of the books on the shelves covering each wall were from her personal collection and not in general circulation. Two high windows let moonlight stream in, augmenting the glow of the firefly lamps ensconced along the walls and set on desk that rested to one side, which was covered by three neat stacks of papers. Three filled blackboards had been wheeled against one wall. And towards the back of the room, looking at one of the rows of books, stood an undisguised changeling.

Driftwood and Lyra at least still looked almost the same in and out of disguise. The changeling that had been wearing Golden Harvest’s face, however, wasn’t even slightly recognizable. The silk on her head and covering her tail was still long, and even held the same style it had in disguise — if somewhat more limply — but rather than carrot orange, it was a bright blue somewhere in between cyan and celeste. She looked back over her shoulder when Twilight and Driftwood had entered, revealing her eyes to be a slightly lighter hue than her silk, not at all like Golden’s.

Twilight drew in a deep breath and she approached, coming to a stop a short distance from the new changeling, Driftwood stopping just next to her. “I trust that Golden Harvest has not been harmed,” she said with a mostly even voice.

The changeling shook her head. “Golden Harvest isn’t real. I made her up,” she said.

Twilight narrowed her eyes, but did not remark, instead asking, “And your name?”

“Harper Heartstrings.”

Twilight’s eyes widened a bit, and she looked to Driftwood, whose eyes had narrowed a bit. “Lyra Heartstrings,” he began, “Barely changed her appearance and did not change her name at all?” he asked. “Was she trying to get caught?”

“I think she figured that being so on the nose meant she couldn’t get caught,” Harper replied.

Twilight heaved a sigh. “That’s Lyra, alright,” she half-grumbled before clearing her throat and regarding Harper fully. “What’s your relationship to her exactly?”

“I’m her older sister.”

“Wait, you were the big sister she swore she had, but none of us ever saw?” Twilight asked with a start.

“Twilight, if I may,” Driftwood interjected. She looked at him for a moment, but nodded, and Driftwood looked to Harper. “She has a fracture in her left arm and two cracked ribs, and might lose a tooth, but that’s all. Everything except the tooth should heal with a few days of bedrest.”

“Oh, thank the stars!” Harper exclaimed. She sat down hard, shutting her eyes and pressing a tarsus against her chest. “Oh, thank goodness.”

Twilight watched Harper for a moment, fidgeted, and then turned her attention to Driftwood when he bumped her shoulder. He said nothing, but mouthed, “You’re fine,” and then nodded his head towards Harper. Twilight drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, exhaled and then turned her attention back to Harper. “So, you’re Lyra’s older sister,” she repeated, punctuating the statement with a nod. “Ok, I understand that. But I don’t understand why you’re outing yourself now when you didn’t do anything earlier. Why didn’t you try and stand up to those thugs when they were, from the shape of things so far, beating your sister into a pulp?”

“What good would that have done?” Harper asked, returning her tarsus to the floor. “They were all armed and trained, so there wasn’t exactly very much I could do to them, let alone what would’ve happened when my disguise failed, and it would have. One changeling is bad enough for everyone else, but two would’ve caused a panic. You were supposed to be back tonight, so I thought that even if I couldn’t do anything to them, I could plead with you and you could do something, even if all you would do was have them arrested for operating illegally,” Harper said.

Twilight drew in another deep breath and exhaled heavily, her shoulders slumping and head drooping for a few moments before she stood up again. “Are there any more changelings in Ponyville besides you, Lyra, and Driftwood?” she asked.

Harper shook her head. “There used to be, but they moved elsewhere almost right after your brother’s wedding, so it’s probably just us,” she answered.

“Probably?” Twilight asked.

“There could be others, but they haven’t said anything to either of us, and we haven’t felt them either, so there could be others, but probably not,” Harper added.

“What she means is that they would had to have spent all this time without breaking character, not even once,” Driftwood said, drawing Twilight’s attention to him. “Not even in private. I’ve never met a changeling who managed to do that, but I’ve heard stories. There’s always consequences, and they’re never pleasant or subtle. If there were any other changelings, they either would’ve revealed themselves already, or would’ve slid so deeply into their disguise that the disguise would be the only thing left.”

Twilight stared at Driftwood. “That happens? They just… forget that they’re changelings?”

“It’s the sort of thing you hear about, maybe from an older sibling or your cousins when they’re trying to scare you, but no one’s ever actually seen it happen,” Harper said.

Twilight looked at Harper, then Driftwood, then Harper again, and finally down to the floor. “Oh,” she finally said, looking up again. “It could happen, in theory, but it’s so unlikely… I see.” She regarded Harper. “When you say ‘probably,’ you mean that there aren’t, but you can’t actually say for certain that there aren’t because there might be one that… that forgot….” She looked to Driftwood suddenly. “Rarity told me that you said changelings consider forthrightness to be a virtue. Is that why?”

Driftwood looked towards the floor, brow furrowed, and then looked back up to Twilight after a few seconds. “You can read books, and you even like to read books, but in order to fit in with everyone else and be accepted, you have to pretend you don’t like books. You even have to pretend that you hate them. When you finally have the chance to read a book without fear of anyone finding out, would you value it more or less?” he said.

Twilight watched Driftwood for another moment, and then looked to Harper. “You didn’t say anything before tonight so you could blend in, I get it. It’s not very harmonious, but it’s practical. So, why now? Why reveal yourself now when it’s obviously not practical?” she asked.

“Because my little sister needs me, and I’m not going to let her face this alone,” answered Harper.

Twilight looked down to the floor again, turned to the side and began pacing. “Honesty, loyalty…,” she muttered. She stopped and stood still for several seconds, and then turned and looked up to both changelings. “I need to talk to Lyra.”

Author's Note:

“Harper” is a name I first heard in Angels in America, and it stuck with me. Somewhere, I realized that if Lyra had a sister, then Harper would be the perfect name for her, continuing a non-existent gag of everyone in their family being named after some kind of musical instrument.

Changelings don’t get cutie marks, and so despite her name, destiny has not made Harper a musician (although she can play the mouth harp). Similarly, although my father is a musician and my sister has played (and likely still can play) several instruments, my own interests lay elsewhere (I cannot play the mouth harp).

I struggled with how many of my personal experiences seem to be shaping these stories.

Comments

[tsaukpaetra]

Come on Twilight, you know you want to say it. "how many ponies I thought i knew are actually changelings?"
Then follow with the required, "does it matter that they are?"