> Unending Love
>  by Azure Notion
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Act I ~ Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hello! Welcome to the Sweet Roast Cafe. What can I get started for you?”

Sweet Leaf stood behind the cashier’s counter at her and Fine Roast’s cafe. Her smile was as genuine as any she’d ever had and she could tell her glee was quite infectious. After all, one of the best days of her life had occurred just the morning before.

“Hi!” The customer returned her grin. “Could I get a large, plain coffee with a…” the mare peered over to Sweet’s left and squinted into the counter’s baked goods display. A little pout crossed her face. “Aw, I was hoping to have one of your cinnamon raisin bagels.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we have more! I haven’t had time to bring the fresh batch out to the front. They’re ready in the back and I can go grab one for you, if you’d like.”

Her customer brightened back up. “Sure! You don’t happen to have any plain cream cheese do you?”

“We absolutely do! I can also spread it on if you like.”

“Yes please!” The mare nodded her head.

“Wonderful!” Sweet Leaf reached over to her stack of large cups, grabbing one along with a marker. “Could I get a name for the order?”

“Sure, it’s Velvet.”

Sweet wrote the unicorn’s name and drink on the cup. “Perfect. That’ll be five bits.”

The mare opened her saddlebags and levitated the bits out onto the counter.

“Thank you!” Sweet Leaf scooped up the bits and placed them in her register. “We’ll call you at the serving counter to your right when your order is ready.”

She grinned as her customer walked off to a seat near the serving counter, then glanced at the next stallion in line. “I’ll be with you in a moment.” 

At his nod, she turned around to her husband. The cream-colored stallion was currently in the middle of squirting syrups into a cup. She walked the few steps over to his left and brushed against his side, mixing her fur into his.

“Hi, hon.” Fine Roast pressed back into her.

“Hey, got another order. An easy one this time.” She set the latest customer’s cup behind two more.

“Great. I need a little breather after that morning rush.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and gave a his cheek quick peck. “Mhm, me too. I’ll be in the back for a moment. Getting a bagel.”

“Alright.”

Sweet Leaf continued through the doorway on the left side of the counter and into the kitchen. She nearly skipped over to the tall pastry warmer on the right side of the room and opened it. Warm air breezed past her as she grabbed a hot cinnamon raisin bagel with a pair of tongs. She set the bagel on a sheet of wax paper and began cutting into it.

She sighed an undeniably happy sigh. The one thing in her life she hadn’t even known she wanted, hadn’t known was possible, she’d gotten. A true relationship with her husband. All morning, her infectious happiness had spread to her customers, and their happiness spread back to her in a warm, pleasant cycle. It was nothing compared to her husband’s love, the love given to her true self, but their unknowing contributions were quite pleasant nonetheless.

As she spread the plain cream cheese along the sliced bagel, her smile soured to a small frown. She couldn’t help but wonder what her customers would think if they knew who exactly was preparing their pastries. She imagined their reaction likely wouldn’t be a pleasant one for her or for Roast.

After all, how many ponies would be happy with being served by a changeling?

Sweet Leaf shook the less-than-pleasant thoughts clear of her head and grabbed a small rectangular plate from the cabinet above her. She placed the two bagel slices on it and refused to let such thoughts get in the way of her happiness. Sweet Leaf might still have to be the actor for the rest of the world, but for one stallion, she could be none other than herself.

She could be just Firefly.

Firefly took the plate in her hoof and closed her eyes for a short moment. She thought of Roast, his love for her, and in turn, her love for him. She thought of what she had to be for them so she could be a wife for him. Sweet Leaf took a deep breath, then released it and opened her eyes. The pleasant, happy feeling returned along with an expression of much the same.

With joy on her face and a little spring in her step, she walked back out to the main area. Roast was still working on the drink before her latest customer’s plain coffee. She continued past him, swishing her tail to brush it against him, and placed the plate on the serving counter.

“Velvet?” She called out and saw the mare’s head lift up from her newspaper. The mare got out of her seat and walked half a dozen steps over to Sweet Leaf. “Here’s your bagel, ma’am. Your drink will be along shortly.”

“Thank you.” Her customer took the plate and headed back to her table.

Sweet Leaf walked back to the cashier’s counter and greeted the waiting stallion.

“Hello! Welcome to the Sweet Roast Cafe. What can I get for you?” she said once again. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a dark blue stallion stand and felt his eyes land on her. A low boiling anger rose from him and, when she flicked her eyes over, she saw his eyes, full of contempt.

She immediately recognized him.

Wavy Pallette? What is Spindle’s ex-source doing here? I didn’t even see him come in.

“Hi. I’d like a large iced caramel—”

“Sweet Leaf,” Wavy Pallette interrupted.

Both she and her customer looked over at the interjecting stallion. Her customer opened his mouth, but Sweet Leaf took control of the situation before he could speak.

“Wavy Pallette, if you could please wait a moment, I’m helping this fine stallion with his order.”

Wavy regarded the stallion for a mere moment. “I want her back,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Sweet Leaf tilted her head in genuine confusion.

“Bobby Pin. I want her back. Bring her back.” He stomped a forehoof.

“Look buddy,” Sweet Leaf’s customer piped in, “whatever problem you got, get in line. I’m trying to order here.”

Wavy Pallette glared at the other stallion. “Yeah, and I’m trying to get my marefriend back. So excuse me if I don’t care.”

“Wavy, please. We can talk about this in a few minutes, just let me help this customer.”

“No,” he said harshly and pointed a hoof at Sweet Leaf. “Go back to your little nest or cave or whatever and bring her back.”

A frown grew on her face. “Wavy, I don’t know what you think is going on, but whatever it is, it’s not right. Now please let me help this customer and we can discuss this in the back.”

Wavy scowled at her for a short moment. “I know you’re one of them,” he growled.

“Excuse me?” she repeated herself.

“I know you’re a changeling!” Wavy Pallette shouted.

Sweet Leaf’s eyes grew wide and the entire cafe grew silent. Everypony’s eyes turned to the commotion and she felt as if a spotlight had shone not only upon Sweet Leaf, but Firefly as well. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could he have suspected her? Was it pure denial? Anger?

Nevermind that. Should I insist on taking him back into the kitchen? No, that would be suspicious to all the other patrons. Which she noticed were all still staring and for a moment, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. Get a hold of yourself and act!

Sweet Leaf looked at her customer. “I’m sorry sir, it appears this can’t wait.”

The stallion gave her a wary look and stepped back.

Sweet Leaf turned back to Wavy Pallette. “For the sake of not repeating myself, how in Equestria did you come to that conclusion?” she asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

“You and her were—”

“What is going on here?” Roast interrupted the blue stallion, coming to stand left of Sweet Leaf. “Exactly what is it you’re accusing my wife of?”

“Your wife,” Wavy Pallette pointed a hoof at Sweet Leaf, “if you can still call her that, is a changeling.”

“Roast,” Sweet Leaf whispered, “let me take care of this.”

“And you know this how?” Roast ignored Sweet Leaf.

Wavy thrust his hoof at her again. “She and Bobby Pin were real close, especially this last month. And now all of the sudden my marefriend turns out to be a changeling? Coincidence? Absolutely not.” He lowered his foreleg. “She knows where the real Bobby Pin is. Tartarus, I bet she even knows where the fake one is!”

“You come into my cafe and start accusing my wife of—”

“Roast!” Sweet Leaf said. She huffed once his attention finally turned to her. “I. Am handling this.” She turned back to the other stallion. “Wavy. The only reason I haven’t thrown you out is because we’re friends. I know and understand that what’s happened to your marefriend hurts, and you want it to go away.”

“Don’t try to—”

“Wavy,” Sweet Leaf said, loud and authoritative, “Be quiet.”

Her frown deepened. “You come into my cafe, my home, and accuse me of being a heartless, love stealing monster. You think I’m not torn up knowing my friend is out there somewhere, scared, surrounded by who knows what? I am afraid for her. She was such a gentle, naive soul and for this to happen to her…” 

Firefly shuddered. “I’m afraid to even think about it or where she could be. So don’t, Wavy. Don’t think for a second that if I could go out there and save her that I wouldn’t.”

Wavy Pallette simply stared at her. She could tell his emotions were a flurry. It was working.

“Wav—”

“Roast!” Sweet Leaf snapped at him quietly. “Please. Just a moment”

“You say you’re torn up.” Wavy Pallette began and a feeling of determination flowed from him like a broken dam. “But when I looked at you a few minutes ago, you were smiling like this was the best damn day you’ve ever had.”

Sweet Leaf’s lower eyelid twitched. “Think about it for a second, Wave. I’m a barista. In a cafe. This is my job. You think patrons are going to want to come back if all they get is a mopy, sour, angry pony serving them their drinks? I can’t afford that, though you’ve done a good enough job making a spectacle out of me anyway.”

Wavy Pallette looked around for the first time and at everypony. When he locked eyes with a couple of them, they turned back to their drinks or meals. He turned back to Sweet Leaf. The anger, pain, and sadness flowing from him told her he wasn’t convinced.

His eyes flicked to Roast for a short second. “What about him?” Wavy pointed a hoof at her husband while narrowing his eyes at Sweet Leaf. “Why won’t you let Roast say anything?”

She looked over at Roast. As the two of them locked eyes, Firefly could feel his confusion and more than a little hurt. She put that off for the moment. They’d have to address it later. She barely managed to tear her gaze away from him.

“Because I needed to get my piece out. I needed you to understand that she was my friend too. That she is my friend.” She snorted. “And because, trust me. You wouldn’t have wanted to hear what he was going to say to you.”

She let silence reign for a long moment and Roast spoke up tentatively.

“Wavy,” Roast began, looking to Sweet Leaf as though asking for permission. When she said nothing, he continued. “These kinds of accusations shouldn’t be taken lightly. Like Sweet Leaf said, it’s understandable the way that you’re feeling, but coming here, interrupting our guests, and taking it out on my wife,” Sweet Leaf felt his tail touch and hold against hers for a short instant. “It’s simply unacceptable. I’m going to forgive you on the basis of us being friends and you not being in your right mind.”

Wavy Pallette opened his mouth, but no words came out. His emotions were all over the place. Sadness, anger, frustration, loneliness, loss. It was a mishmash of an emotional soup, and an exceptionally unpleasant one.

Sweet Leaf walked around the counter and put her hoof on the darker stallion’s withers. “Go home, Wavy,” Sweet Leaf said. “Calm down, get your thoughts straight. After that, if you want to have a proper conversation, a shoulder to cry on, or even a sounding board, Roast and I will be here.”

Firefly could tell he was still upset. She didn’t need to be an emotivore to know he wanted to say more, but had nothing to add. Ears twitching and tail flicking, he clenched his jaw and gave a curt nod. He turned around and walked out the cafe door. Sweet Leaf watched through the large front windows as he turned left onto the street and continued walking. Once he was out of sight, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She looked around at all their customers and put on a forced smile. “I am truly sorry about this, everypony. I hadn’t anticipated this kind of drama, or honestly any kind of drama, when we opened this morning. As an attempt to apologize for this interruption, I would like to offer everyone here a coupon for a free drink of your choice.”

She looked back over the counter at Roast and he gave her an approving nod.

“If you’re interested, please come up at any time before you leave.”

Sweet Leaf walked back around and placed herself at the cashier’s counter. She looked back to Roast who still hadn’t moved and gave him a smile. Though, she couldn’t manage a real one, let alone one with the joy from before. His overprotectiveness nearly cost them more than Wavy already had and she was… frustrated with him, she realized.

It wasn’t the first time he’d shown his need to protect her, but it was the first time it made her upset. The other times it didn’t affect her and she wasn’t sure why. Normally she’d brush it off and get back to her day, but it wasn’t working.

She looked back at the cafe guests, a few ponies beginning to form in front of her.

“Hello. Welcome back.” She said to one of her recent customers. “Would you like a coupon or is there something I can get started for you?”

She did her best to get back into her role, to be the happy Sweet Leaf. It took a good deal of effort, though it felt like her smile never quite reached her eyes.





Firefly stood in front of the upstairs bathroom sink, staring at herself in the mirror. The frown settled on her face was the most prominent thing about her. Breakfast rush had fully passed, but the incident with Wavy Pallette stuck with her. She let out a single, mirthless chuckle. Wavy really had come in and ruined her morning. There was no way he could prove she wasn’t merely Sweet Leaf. He had nothing on her other than her friendship with a pony that turned out to be a changeling.

His word was his only sword.

Her frown deepened as she tried to understand why she was bothered so much. She huffed when, yet again, she came up blank. Right then, all she wanted to do was go curl up with… she shook her head. No, she didn’t want to spend time with Roast right then. She wanted to go and… she didn’t know what she wanted to do!

She growled and stomped a hoof. Why?! Why am I so upset right now?! I should be able to push all this aside. Firefly squinted at her disguised self. Get a hold of yourself. You didn’t spend three years in training and six more in Equestria to turn into an emotional little nymph.

She closed her eyes once again and breathed in deep.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Release.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Her breathing exercises only helped a small amount to clear her mind, but it would have to do. She mentally forced herself to get back into the role she was wearing and opened her eyes. Sweet Leaf looked a little better. There was no longer a frown on her face, though her expression was nowhere near where it was earlier that morning.

She looked down and turned on the faucet, then squirted soap onto her hooves and scrubbed. There was still the lunch rush and then the rest of the evening customers to deal with. She imagined some of them might come back to use their coupons. 

Sweet Leaf pursed her lips at the thought. Unsurprisingly, there were quite a few ponies willing to take advantage of a free drink. She couldn’t blame those that took the offer. If she were in their place, she’d take a free drink for the awkwardness alone.

Word would no doubt spread about the incident and she was sure they’d get some gossipers over the next few days. Though, it was entirely possible a portion of the ponies wouldn’t come back at all. Some could be rather skittish. After all the rumor of a changeling working at a cafe would no doubt be unsettling for some.

She rinsed her hooves and dried them on a hoof towel. She looked up and smiled at herself, the grin almost making it to her purple eyes. Time to be the happy barista once more.

Sweet Leaf opened the door and turned down the upstairs hallway. She walked down the steps into the kitchen and saw Roast to her left. He looked over from his dish washing and caught her gaze.

“Hey, hon,” Fine Roast said as he rinsed a cup, “how are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” she replied. She hesitated for a tiny moment, but realized she needed to keep up appearances until she could figure herself out. Sweet Leaf walked up and gave him a nuzzle on his cheek. “Are there any tables left that need bussing?”

Roast placed the cup on the drying rack. “Nope. I got all the dishes.” He moved to the washing side of the sink and started working on another dish. “Though some of the tables need wiping.”

There was more he wanted to say, she could tell. But she wasn’t in the mood to deal with talking, especially the kind Roast probably wanted. “Okay, I’ll be out front then.”

Before he could say anything else, she turned around and entered the cafe proper. She looked out at the tables and saw there was only one pony sitting near the entrance. The fall morning air was a little too cold, so no ponies had seated themselves outside. There were, however, lots of empty, dirty tables inside to clean.

She opened the sink cabinet and took out the cleaning bucket and rag. Walking into the seating area, she busied herself with the tables.

Off to her side, she saw Roast come out of the kitchen and take up the spot at the cashier. As she was wiping down the last table in the far, front corner of the room, the cafe door opened. Her back was to the door and she was grateful Roast was at the counter. He could take the customer’s order and begin making it while she took her time cleaning.

The pony continued walking and once they reached the counter, a feminine voice began. “Hi Mister Roast. Do you know if Sweet Leaf is around?”

Ugh. Another pony to deal with. She mentally scowled at first, but noticed a scent in the air. That wasn’t a pony. She breathed in again and recognized who the smell belonged to.

It was Vexor. He’d left his pheromone glands in place with his disguise. She was glad he did, otherwise Sweet Leaf wouldn’t have recognized him.

She turned around just in time to see Roast pointing the pony in her direction. Sweet looked at the pony and heard a gasp come from the light pink mare. Sweet Leaf plopped the rag back into the bucket and dried her hooves with some napkins.

No sooner had Sweet Leaf set them down as she was swept up into a tight hug.

“Sweet! How are you doing, my girl?”

Wrapped up in the hug, Firefly wracked her brain for his disguise’s name. The others had mentioned it at the last gathering. It was Rose Something. Rose...

“Rose Petal!” Sweet Leaf said. Her previous thoughts and feelings were shoved out of her mind as she reluctantly returned the other mare’s hug. “I’m, uhh, good? What brings you around?”

Rose let go of Sweet Leaf and gave her a big grin. “The group is doing a little get-together tonight at my place and I’m stopping by to invite you!”

“Really?” Sweet Leaf’s eyebrows raised in true surprise.

A get-together at Vexor’s place? It’s been a long while since we last did it at his house. Hay, it’s been months since I last saw him and he was in a different disguise then. And a meeting so suddenly after the last?

Sweet Leaf continued, making sure to add a bit of excitement to her voice. “What’s the occasion? Not that I don’t love seeing you all.”

“Oh pshaw.” Rose Petal rolled her eyes and batted a hoof at Sweet Leaf. “Without us you’d be as bored as a tree!” She snorted. “Hehehe! Get it? ‘Cause boards come from…” The pink mare cleared her throat at Sweet Leaf’s unimpressed gaze.

“Yes, well, Scroll got a new board game that he’s dying to try out with us and it sounds like a ton of fun!” Rose pranced a little in place.

“Oh!” Something happened. Maybe Skitter wants to talk about Spindle. Or did Skitter get word about the wedding? I need to go to this, but…

Sweet Leaf hummed for a moment and tapped her chin. “Well, I do have a shop to run, so it would have to be late tonight. What time were you all planning?”

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head.” Rose patted Sweet Leaf on the head, bringing back a little of Firefly’s annoyance. Rose continued, despite the momentary glare from Firefly. “We already thought about that. How’s a quarter before seven sound?”

“Hm, we close at six. I suppose I could rush cleaning tonight.”

“Perfect!” The pink mare beamed, clapping her hooves together. “We’ll see you—”

“Rose,” Sweet Leaf interrupted, “that wasn’t a yes.”

“Huh?” Rose put her hooves back on the floor and tilted her head, her light blue mane flowing over one eye. “What do you mean?”

Sweet rolled her eyes. “I have a husband.”

Incomprehension remained on the mare’s face.

“Really? I need to make sure he’s okay with it.”

“What?” Rose reeled her head in surprise. “You need his permission? You’re a big mare aren’t you?”

Sweet Leaf sighed. She really didn’t want to deal with it right now. And she had no idea if this was an act or if Vexor really was this oblivious. She didn’t remember him being that way. “No. I mean yes. I am a grown mare, but when you’re part of a relationship, it’s a two way street.” Sweet Leaf couldn’t help her slight condescending tone. “We try to involve each other in our lives. It, you know, helps deepen the bond.”

“Huh.” Rose Petal looked off into the distance as if it was the most profound thing she’d heard in ages. “Huh…”

“So… excuse me while I go talk to Roast.”

The mare brightened back up instantly. “Alrighty!”

Firefly stepped around her and headed for her husband. 

Sweet Leaf’s husband. Er, no, Firefly’s husband now. Well, and Sweet Leaf’s... Augh! Whatever, both our husband!

She mentally shook her head. Some of Rose’s ditz must have rubbed off on her. Regardless of whose husband he was, she needed to have a talk with Vexor later. This ditzy act of his was...aggravating.

When she focused on her surroundings again, she noticed that Roast was giving her an inquisitive look. “Hey Roast,” Sweet Leaf said as she approached the counter. “My friends are doing a little shindig tonight. Do you mind maybe doing a little more of the cleaning tonight? I can make it up to you tomorrow.”

Fine Roast furrowed his brows. “I don’t mind doing more cleaning…” 

Sweet Leaf could feel that his emotions weren’t exactly the epitome of happiness. Even a little frustration. She could practically feel the ‘but’ coming.

“But,” he began, “I was hoping we could, well, talk about some things?”

She figured that was what he wanted. He no doubt wanted to talk about Wavy Pallette and probably the way she treated Roast during the debacle. She was definitely not in the right mind to deal with that.

She’d ‘deepen the bond’ later. Right then, finding out about why Skitter was calling an emergent meeting was more important. She needed Roast to understand.

“Ah. Right,” Sweet Leaf said, hoping she kept most of the exasperation out of her voice. “This is—I mean, I’m really wanting to go to this. Can we talk about that another time? Please?”

Roast’s eyes searched her face for a moment before he sighed. “Alright. Another day, then. I don’t mind if you go.”

“Thank you, Roast.” Sweet Leaf gave him a smile for a short moment before turning and walking towards her fellow changeling in disguise.

“Well? What did he say?” Rose asked when Sweet Leaf neared her.

“He said he’s okay with taking a little more of the cleaning over tonight. I’ll be there.”

“Hehe, yay!” Rose cheered, pumping a hoof into the air. “Just you wait, this is gonna be amaaazing!”

Sweet Leaf’s eye twitched. An act. It has to be. It better be. The only other explanation is brain damage.

“Well, I have to get back to cleaning…” Sweet Leaf let the end trail off, hoping Vexor would take the hint.

“Right! Okay, I’ll see you tonight, Sweetie!” Rose waved as she began walking towards the exit.

Once she left, Sweet Leaf let out a breath. Stars above, that ‘ling needs help.





For Sweet Leaf, closing time in the cafe couldn’t have come sooner. She’d settled into a rhythm and there were thankfully enough customers after lunch to keep both her and Roast busy. Or at least busy enough that they didn’t have the time or space for a private talk. Though, with the last patron having left a couple minutes ago, she and Roast had no barriers for conversation now. No physical barriers, at least.

Sweet Leaf checked the clock and read twelve minutes past six o’ clock. She’d need to leave in ten minutes to make it to Vexor’s place by six forty-five. That meant she needed to get as much cleaning done as—

“Sweet?” Roast interrupted her thoughts. “Firefly?

A small spike of fear ran through her at the mention of her changeling name. She quickly squashed it and turned to face her husband in the kitchen doorway. “Y-yes?”

He walked towards her, projecting a mess of feelings. “Are we, well, okay?”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Are… we okay?”

He nodded.

Firefly searched his eyes and his emotions. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we be?”

He walked over and sat down in front of her. “It’s been only a day since I got to be with you. The real you. And today was not what I expected it to be.” The uncertainty flowing from him colored his words. “The thing with Wavy happened, yes, but after that you’ve been… distant. I guess I was kind of hoping for another honeymoon period where we’d get to laugh and play and get to know each other all over again.” He looked down and let out a deep sigh. “Today has been pretty much the opposite of that.”

She parroted his sigh. Firefly had been trying to keep her emotions to herself, but that apparently didn’t work as well as she’d thought. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what’s going on. I mean, I don’t get the feelings I’m having. I’m frustrated and angry and confused and a little sad.” She let out a low growl. “The worst part is I don’t know why or what I’m… emotioning at!”

Had the tone been less serious, they might have found mirth in her improvised verbing. Instead she huffed and apologized again. “I’m sorry. I need a little time to figure it out.” Firefly placed a hoof on his. “We are okay though. I promise.”

Roast managed a little smile. “Okay.” A few seconds of silence stood before Roast spoke again. “This thing you’re going to, is it a, uh, changeling thing?”

“Yes.” Firefly nodded. “I’m not sure why they’ve called a meeting, which is why I need to go.”

“This kind of thing isn’t normal?”

“Well, yes and no?” She wiggled a hoof back and forth. “Kind of. We usually have meetings once a month, but that was last week. I’m guessing this has something to do with Spindle.”

“Spindle?”

“Yeah, the changeling who—” She stopped mid sentence and facehoofed. “Right. I forgot you never knew her real name. Spindle is Bobby Pin’s changeling name. Or rather, Bobby Pin is one of Spindle’s disguises.”

“Ah, right,” he said and added softly. “I… hope she’s okay.”

“Yeah, me too.” She really wished there was something they could do for her. For all Firefly knew and hoped, she’d already left town.

“Firefly?” Roast looked at her and a stream of love flowed out of him.

A breath forced itself from her as she was reminded of how wonderful his love was. She looked into his eyes, the green orbs full of care and compassion. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

Despite it all, despite all her feelings and frustrations, she couldn’t help but grin a little. “I love you too.” She moved closer and hugged him, holding him tight. “We’ll get through this, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” He squeezed her back.

She took in his scent and allowed herself to bask in his presence. She’d find out what was wrong. She had to.

After a long moment, Firefly let go and Roast released her. She looked at the clock and saw her window was nearly up. “Roast, I need to get going. Are you sure you’re okay with cleaning?”

He nodded and gave her a loving simper. “Yes, I’m sure. Go and enjoy your ‘game.’”

She got up and turned around, heading for the cafe door. She looked back and saw Roast standing, watching her leave. “Thank you, honey.”

“You’re welcome. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” she agreed and turned to leave the cafe.





Sweet Leaf pushed open the gate to Rose Petal’s front yard, admiring the intricate picket archway covered in flowering vines. As she trotted along the straight walkway, she couldn’t help but stare at the front lawn. Though “lawn” wasn’t an appropriate term anymore. The small yard had been turned into a wonderfully maintained flower garden. It overflowed with lillies, chrysanthemums, roses, and lots of other flowers that Firefly didn’t know the names for. Her house was the only one on the block that had such vibrant and plentiful decor of any kind. Firefly wondered if Vexor maintained it or if it was his source.

She shrugged as she reached the front door. Three loud knocks were placed against the solid, decorated wood. The floral designs carved into the surface caught her eye and she couldn’t help but think of how expensive such an intricate door would be.

Her musing was interrupted as the door opened, revealing a smiling, pink mare.

“Sweet Leaf!” Rose Petal exclaimed and rushed forward to wrap her fellow disguised changeling up in the second hug of the day. “I’m so so so happy you could make it!” She set Sweet Leaf down and turned into the house, beckoning with her hoof. “Come in, come in! We were just about to start our game!”

“That’s, uh, great.” Sweet Leaf entered the house, still taken aback by Rose’s mannerisms. “Have the others shown up yet?”

“Yep! The whole gang’s here. Well, except for Bobby Pin, but I couldn’t find her today!” she said sadly.

Ah, then maybe they don’t know?

Rose shut the door behind Sweet Leaf and locked it. “Come on, the others are waiting in the family room.”

Sweet Leaf followed. They headed straight down the hallway, passing the kitchen on the right and living room on the left. As they walked, Firefly glanced at all the passing pictures on the walls. Each one had an off-white mare with an orange mane a few shades lighter than Sweet Leaf’s own. Next to her in most of the photos was the same pink mare leading Sweet down the hallway. She couldn’t help but notice that there were a few that featured the couple looking several years younger, even one in what looked like high school.

“Here we are!” Rose broke through Sweet Leaf’s thoughts. The pink mare held a hoof out next to the family room door, gesturing for Sweet Leaf to enter.

She walked past Rose and saw a coffee table parallel with the length of room. Atop it were treats, drinks, and an unopened board game box. Surrounding the coffee table on three sides were a loveseat, a recliner, and a couch. On the couch sat two familiar earth pony stallions on opposite sides. Closest to the door was a tan furred and mint green maned pony holding a teacup in his hooves. To his left sat a blue stallion with a yellow and light green striped mane, his hooves crossed and an unamused expression on his face.

“We’re here!” Rose called out as she walked into the room behind Sweet Leaf.

“Yes, we’re aware, Rose,” Warm Plate said from the far end of the couch, rolling his eyes.

“And as such,” Rose dragged the word on, excitedly bouncing her hooves before stopping and pointing a hoof at the family room window, “the blinds are closed,” she then pointed her hoof back to the hallway, “and the doors are locked! Time to party! Hehe!”

Green flames surrounded Warm Plate and replacing the blue stallion’s form was a changeling stallion, groaning disapprovingly. “Ugh, it’s about time Vexor.” 

“You said that to me last meeting, Tarsus,” Long Scroll said as he shifted his tan, masculine form to a mare changeling’s body. “At least you didn’t change early this time.”

“Right, ‘cause that turned out to be a total disaster, didn’t it, Ssskitter?” Tarsus hissed, teasing her sarcastically. The changeling mare merely shook her head.

Rose and Sweet Leaf walked to the others, Sweet Leaf taking a seat on the loveseat and Rose taking the recliner. Rose shifted out of her pink form and into his natural a male changeling self. He looked over to Sweet Leaf with a raised eyeridge.

Sweet Leaf took the hint and shed her disguise, her changeling form taking over.

“Welcome to the party, Firefly,” Skitter said. “I brought some cookies and crepes and Vex made the tea. Help yourself.”

“Thanks, but if I can say first…” Firefly turned and threw an incredulous look at Vexor. “Holy sweet mother of Chrysalis herself. What is wrong with you, Vexor?”

“What?” he asked coolly, in a deep voice.

“Rose Petal. The amount of sweet saccharin ditziness she exudes is … overload.”

“It’s called acting. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” he said. He grabbed a small plate and placed a couple sweets on it. “And I like to think of it as, mmm, excitable.” He took a bite of a cookie.

“Still, it’s a lot. I couldn’t tell if that was you or if you’d simply lost it,” Firefly said and poured herself a cup of tea with two sugars.

Vexor swallowed his bite. “Then the acting worked. Regardless, I didn’t choose this personality. Rose Petal was already really clueless and bubbly.” He took another bite and talked through the food in his mouth. “I’d like to think I toned back her nature a little in the last couple months.”

“Right, well. If we could get started?” Skitter asked, her teacup held in her magic as she took a sip.

“Yes, go ahead,” Vexor said, waving a hoof at Skitter.

“Okay,” Skitter said and set her cup back down. She looked at the other three changelings in turn. “As the most senior changeling here in Hoofington, the hive sent me an urgent letter. The contents are to be passed on to all of you.”

“Why so formal and serious?” Vexor asked.

“Because this is important. It doesn’t say in the letter, but if I had to guess, our queen hadn’t banked on losing.”

“Seems pretty obvious,” Tarsus said, a frown on his face. “No orders, no what-ifs, just ‘be ready to do what you’re already supposed to be ready to do.’”

Skitter nodded “Yes, I agree, it could have been a little more planned out, but—”

“And really?” Tarsus interrupted. “Taking over Canterlot? What did she think she was going to do if she did manage to subdue the pony princesses? Order the rest of Equestria to heel?”

“Tarsus!” Firefly said angrily, “We don’t know what happened and we don’t know what decisions led her to this level of action. So don’t assume things you have no basis on.”

Tarsus huffed at her. “If the papers I’ve been reading are right, she didn’t get the love princess’s personality even half correct! She was reckless!”

“Bite your tongue! That. Is our queen,” Skitter glared at him. “Like Firefly said, you don’t know what happened. If she decides to reveal to us what took place in Canterlot, it’ll be our business. Until then...”

“That’s,” Tarsus began, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right. But do you understand the implications for us of what she’s done, right? We don’t have to worry about being discovered and having reports of ‘some strange creature,’ anymore.” He made air quotes with his hooves. “We have to be worried about dungeons, torture, and executions!”

“I don’t think ponies would go that far, Tarsus,” Vexor said, his voice remaining calm. “I don’t think they have it in them to execute.”

Tarsus frowned and raised an eyebrow at Vexor. “Really? You think they’d roll over and accept it if they learned the dozens of ponies we have back at the hive? The dozens more that have stayed in cocoons their entire lives? That have died in those cocoons?”

Vexor shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t roll over, but I can’t see ponies going as far as executions.”

“To answer your question, Tarsus,” Skitter started, “yes, we understand the implications. The hive understands the implications. That’s why we’re here tonight. Now, as I was saying, if you’ve read the papers, then you’re aware that our queen and her army at Canterlot were thrown from the city with a great magical force. The queen’s advisor sent out letters to all collectors with instructions and guidance.

“First point is, if discovered within the next couple months, we should attempt to remain in Hoofington under a new guise. We should not immediately attempt to find a new source and should instead rely on our little community of five for support.” 

Firefly felt a sinking in her stomach. She’d specifically told Spindle to do the exact opposite.

“It’s far too dangerous with pony suspicions where they are. If we can, we should house any of us whose disguise is compromised.” Skitter leaned against the back of the couch. “To make matters worse, we’re essentially on our own for the time being. No cleanup crews will be sent out and the hive will not respond to emergency requests.”

Firefly gasped and put a hoof over her mouth. “Oh no,” she half whispered.

“Firefly?” Skitter sat up and looked at her. “Is there a problem?”

“It’s, uhh, Spindle.” Firefly placed her hooves in her lap. All three of the other changelings’ ears perked up. “Wavy Pallette came to the cafe two nights ago saying he saw Bobby Pin as a changeling.”

“Oh no,” Skitter repeated Firefly’s sentiment.

“Yeah. Roast…” she paused for a short moment. Firefly debated how much she should tell them. Thinking quickly, she decided she had to tell them anything they might come to find out on their own. “Roast was there, so he heard about it too.”

“Great.” Tarsus fell back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Just what we need, a damned source, knowing his wife’s friend is a changeling.”

“It would have happened regardless,” Skitter said. “All of our sources are going to find out eventually.” She looked at Firefly and Vexor as well. “In fact, this means that our roles now know, through Sweet Leaf, that Bobby Pin is a changeling. Use this knowledge naturally as a pony would.”

Tarsus sighed. “Right. You’re right. I’ll have to think about what Warm Plate will do.”

Skitter turned back to Firefly. “Is that all?”

Firefly shook her head. “I wish it was.” She took a deep breath and continued, “Wavy went to the guard after, which isn’t really unexpected. But then Bobby Pin shows up at the cafe not ten minutes later.”

“Are you…? Oh sweet Chrysalis. Not even a new disguise? Please tell me Roast didn’t see her.”

Firefly shrank a little in her seat. “Not at first. I opened the door and she told me she thought she screwed up.”

“Only thought huh?” Tarsus said. “I knew she was going to be trouble.”

A scowl crossed Firefly’s face. She wasn’t going to deal with this. Spindle deserved better. “Maybe if you’d been more helpful and less antagonistic, this wouldn’t have happened!” She snapped at him.

“Firefly! Tarsus!” Vexor said. “Enough. Tarsus, this is my house, which means my rules. If the only thing that’s going to come out of your mouth is complaining, keep your mouth shut.”

Tarsus crossed his hooves and looked away.

“Firefly, continue please,” Vexor said, turning back to her.

“Right.” She let out a breath. “Okay, so I shoved Spindle out and closed the door behind us. She asked me for love crystals because she couldn’t get to hers.”

“Wait wait wait,” Skitter interrupted. “You’re telling me she left her crystals behind?”

Firefly nodded.

Skitter let out a long groan. “This keeps getting better. Tell me you at least tried to go get them.”

Firefly’s eyes went wide. She’d been so caught up with getting discovered herself that it hadn’t crossed her mind even once.

“You didn’t.” It wasn’t a question. Skitter rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why in Equestria wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sorry!” Firefly called out, indignant. “I was…” She hesitated. She was about to say preoccupied, but that was a little too close to the truth. “I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s, well, not okay, but what’s done is done,” Skitter said exasperatedly. “I’ll see if I can stop by tomorrow and get them. Anyway, please, continue.”

“So, next was…” Firefly thought for a moment. She couldn’t tell them about Roast’s questioning or her fleeing or them getting back together. Wait, she hadn’t mentioned the important part yet. “Right. She’s brand new, so she wasn’t thinking straight. I guess I wasn’t either. I told her to go find a new town.”

At that point it appeared Skitter wasn’t going to be surprised by much else. Either that or she was saving her curses for the end.

“In the middle of me telling her to leave and get a new disguise, Roast opens the front door. I heard the click and tackled her, putting her on top of me so it at least looked like she instigated it. She ran off after that.”

“Did either of you go to the guard?” Skitter asked.

“No, I, err, Roast said he didn’t want to.” Firefly realized immediately she shouldn’t have said that and clamped down on her fear. It wouldn’t do to display odd emotions in front of fellow emotivores, no matter how guarded her own were. She had to come up with something quick.

“Didn’t want to?” Vexor asked, unwittingly giving Firefly breathing room. “Why wouldn’t he want to? Surely he understood what changelings were by then.”

Firefly nodded. “Yes, he did. I asked him first if we should and he said it wouldn’t do the guard any good.”

“Hm,” Tarsus said and peered back at the warning glare Vexor sent his way. “I guess that makes sense in a dumb kind of way. All that happened was her knocking on the door and running away. Since he knew changelings could change disguises, he probably figured the guard wouldn’t be able to trace her. Or maybe he didn’t want to get involved with changeling business.”

“More the latter, if I had to guess. Do you think I should push it?” Firefly asked and hoped it would make her story more believable.

Skitter shook her head. “If you’ve already tried, I would just leave it. As long as it’s not hurting anything, I don’t think any good will come from poking the bear. Now, is that all?”

Firefly grinned nervously. This kind of was a lot, now that she thought about it. “N-no?”

Skitter merely grimaced and moved her hoof in a circle, a signal for Firefly to continue.

“Wavy came to the cafe this morning. He accused me of being a changeling in front of many of our guests.” Firefly waited to see if they were going to interrupt. When they didn’t, she continued. “He claimed that since Bobby Pin and I were such close friends, that I had to be a changeling. It felt more like lashing out than it did an actual accusation. We… well I told him something about us being good friends and being offended. He was still upset when he left, but I don’t think he’ll be an issue,” she said with finality. “And that is all I have.”

“What about Roast?” Skitter asked after a moment. “Is there any suspicion from him?”

Firefly made a show of thinking about it. “No, I haven’t felt any and I don’t remember him acting odd since that night.”

“Goodness,” Vexor said quietly, “You certainly seem to have had an eventful last few days. Far more than me at least.”

Skitter and Tarsus hummed in agreement.

“It has been a journey.” Firefly let out a breath and closed her eyes, more exhausted than she’d realized.

“Though I do have a question,” Vexor said.

She opened her eyes and glanced at him. “Hmm?”

“I get that it’s been a lot, but these are things we should be prepared to handle.”

Firefly cocked her head.

“You’ve been rather easily aggravated today. You snapped at Tarsus twice. Even when I came into your shop, I felt true annoyance from you at Rose Petal’s behavior. It’s not like you to let things get to you and it’s especially not how we’re trained.”

She didn’t want to give away information so she simply kept her inquisitive expression. “What’s your question?”

“Is something bothering you? I mean Firefly, not Sweet Leaf.”

“I guess…” Firefly falsely started, not knowing what to say. It was everything, all of the above. The invasion, the accusation, Roast, oh stars was it Roast. She wanted to ask someone, talk to someone, but she didn’t have anyone she could confide in. Though maybe… maybe she could talk around the issue.

“I guess it’s all of that,” Firefly started again, “but Roast and I also kinda had a big fight last week and I’m trying to figure out what to do about it.”

“Firefly,” Skitter said. When Firefly looked over at her, she saw the odd look Skitter was giving her. “Why is that bothering you?”

“What do you mean?” Firefly asked, confused. “If Roast and I can’t make up, then I’m going to lose him as a source.”

“That’s not something that should upset Firefly,” Skitter told her. “Sweet Leaf should be upset about that. You should be working that brain to solve the problem. You’re mixing your role’s emotions with your own.”

“Right. Sorry. I’ll figure it out.” Firefly knew she shouldn’t have mentioned it and now she regretted it. “What was the next thing in the letter?”

Skitter merely looked at her. “I’m sorry to say, Firefly, but I don’t think this is going to simply go away with a little thinking.”

That was what Firefly was afraid of. It was why she should have kept her mouth shut. What did she really think she was going to get out of it, validation? There was no getting around it, though. She’d stepped in it and it was up to her to find a way to deal with it. “What do you mean?”

“I’d like you to try something. Close your eyes, for me, would you?”

Firefly gave her an incredulous look. “Ooo-kay?” She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to, but if she could play Skitter’s game, maybe they could move on.

“It’s fine. We’re not here to attack you, Firefly. Us collectors are too valuable for that kind of nonsense,” Skitter said, though Firefly wondered if it might have been half directed towards a certain contentious changeling.

Firefly merely nodded in response.

“Okay. Now think about before you and Roast had your fight,” Skitter paused, allowing Firefly time to think. She thought about Roast and when he came home from his coffee convention. She couldn’t help but chuckle inside at his perfect timing with the creep at the cafe.

“Good. Now think about something nice that he did for you.”

A spike of fear washed over her before she could control it. She realized what Skitter was trying to do, but it was too late. The emotion was already broadcast to the other three and she was foolish enough to not have her emotional guard up. She had to think of a cover story, and fast. Despite her attempts, she felt her heart start to pound.

“You can open your eyes.”

Firefly breathed in deep and did as she was told. She tried to prepare herself for a mental battle.

“That fear you felt? It’s the same thing I felt two years ago,” Skitter told her. “You realized it, didn’t you?”

“Realized what?” Firefly nearly stammered out her first word.

“The affection you felt right before the fear. That was Firefly’s feeling, not Sweet Leaf’s.”

“Y-Yes.” There was no use in denying it. “What did you mean you felt it two years ago?”

“Back in Manehatten,” Skitter began, “I’d been with my previous source for a little over two years. My role and him were engaged and the wedding was barely a couple weeks away. He’d been extra affectionate, doing all sorts of things to please my role. One night after he went out of his way to do an intricate date night, I realized I didn’t have to put any effort into how my role was responding to him. I didn’t have to think about what to do or say. It was no longer my role that was accepting his affections. It was me. Skitter. It scared me. I’d never consciously experienced the feeling before and it felt… good. Really good.

“I realized I’d started to have feelings for him.”

Firefly didn’t know what to think, let alone say. Was Skitter like her? Was she not the only one who held feelings for her source? “What-what did you do?”

“I wrote a letter back to the hive. I had made up an excuse of a business trip to tell my source and went to rent a room in a hotel for a few days. A couple days later, I got a letter back saying the situation I was in was dangerous and that I needed to remember my training.”

Firefly looked down, trying to remember anything in training about it. She came up blank and looked back up at Skitter. “I don’t remember anything about that.”

Skitter chuckled. “Neither did I until I spent a long time later pondering it. The letter said that I needed to remember the training about guarding yourself from experiencing the affection your role produces. We don’t remember it because it was half a day during the emotional deflection curriculum. You might recall it better as the session every trainee made fun of.”

“I remember that one.” Vexor said. “It definitely wasn’t long. The overarching opinion of everyling there was how ridiculous it was that anyling could fall for a pony. Even the instructor made fun of it.”

“Yep.” Skitter nodded at Vexor, then turned back to Firefly. “You’ve been with Roast for four years now, right?” At Firefly’s nod, she continued. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to have these feelings, what with how affectionate he is.”

Thinking back on it, she did recall something in training. If she remembered correctly, she’d talked to another trainee that had already taken the section. They told her it was a total joke and she ended up barely paying attention that day. “Right, I think I remember that. So, what did you end up doing about it?” She steeled herself for the answer. No matter what it was, this time she would not show her cards.

“Well, the rest of the letter said I either needed to get control of myself or move on to a new source,” Skitter continued. “I tried for a little bit, but realized I’d already been feeling that way for a while. I decided it wasn’t worth the effort and moved on.”

Firefly nodded at the expected answer. She refused to entertain the idea of moving on from Roast.

“On the way to our wedding, I convinced him to take a side trip to the Neighagra Falls. I coordinated with a cleanup crew and made sure it was only him and I and a pony pulling the carriage. On the way, an ‘accident’ happened while we were being taken to the peak. As far as anypony knows, none of us survived the trip. As for what really happened, both ponies are currently in cocoons at the hive.”

“Right.” Firefly nodded. All she had to do was convince them that she could ‘break’ herself of her feelings for Roast. Ironically, it likely meant she needed to repair her and Roast’s relationship for it to work. Though now that she realized her actions had been tainted by her true feelings, even in front of her fellow changelings, it shouldn’t be hard to subdue her outward appearance. The hard part was over. “I think I should—”

“Before you make a decision,” Skitter cut her off, “I think it’s best if you try to deal with this. It would be a shame for the Hoofington changelings to lose two of their five sources. Especially with the current circumstances and doubly so for one as productive as yours.”

If she hadn’t been so adamantly controlling her emotions, relief would have flooded over her. It was perfect. She didn’t even have to try to convince them. Firefly looked over at the other two changelings. It seemed they were content to merely listen to the conversation. That worked for her. She looked back at Skitter. “Okay. I will do what I can. And can I, uhm, come ask you questions if I need to?” She added a bit of timidness for show’s sake.

“Of course.” Skitter gave her a small smile. “Well as long as we have an appropriate audience. Though I guarantee you it won’t be easy. If we were automatons, this wouldn’t be a problem, but we’re living, feeling creatures. Keep that in the back of your mind. And remember, the hive is depending on us, especially right now.”

“Right. For the hive.” Firefly nodded.

“For the hive,” Skitter repeated. “Now then, that was quite the side discussion. Getting back on track, the rest of the information isn’t nearly as harrowing as the order. Second bit is about gatherers. They will be skipping next month’s trip and instead will be coming in two months. They will be visiting you, Vexor, disguised as Lemon Shine. Now it says we should expect…”

Firefly smiled as she half listened to Skitter. It would be easy. If she could handle something like admitting her love for Roast, she could handle making up fake progress towards stifling her feelings. Though first things first would be to find out what was making her frustrated in the first place and why she couldn’t seem to let it slide off of her. That might be less easy.

But Firefly could handle it. She had to.





They’d continued until around eight thirty when Skitter announced she needed to be heading back. She’d told her source that she, or rather he, Long Scroll, would be back by nine.

They’d all changed back into their disguises and dispersed. Firefly was pleased with the results of the meeting. Though that meant she had to go back to the cafe where Roast was waiting. She would have to be adamant about talking about it later. She really did need some time to figure herself out.

Turning down the alley leading to the back entrance of the cafe, she mentally prepared some speeches of what to say to convince Roast to not deal with it until she was ready.

She was a few paces from the door when she realized she hadn’t brought a key with her. Roast hadn’t said he was going anywhere. As she turned the knob, relief came over her as and felt it click open.

Sweet Leaf entered the kitchen and saw all the lower floor’s lights were off, except the stairway’s. Her heart fluttered a little at his forethought. Little considerations like that were one of the reasons she loved him. She frowned as she turned around and closed the door. Those kinds of thoughts made her sound shallow, even to herself. She loved him for far more than the mere things she could get out of him. At least, she thought she did. She’d kind of admitted it to herself only a couple days ago.

Firefly turned to the stairs, determined to prove herself right. Though, as she came to the first step, a yawn forced its way out of her mouth. She shook the tiredness from herself. She still had to convince her loving husband that he didn’t need to dote on her until she felt capable of understanding her feelings.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she saw their bedroom was dark. She stepped quietly toward and inside. Once her eyes adjusted, her brows furrowed at the empty bed. She flicked on the lightswitch and light flooded the room. Immediately, she noticed that Roast’s pillow was missing. She squinted at the thought.

He didn’t plan on… Did he?

Firefly turned back into the hallway and saw a gentle light barely coming from the living room. She walked down and peeked around the corner. From beyond the back of the couch, a candle light flickered along the walls and ceiling. Her nose scrunched as she entered the room and peered around the side of the couch. There sat Roast, laying down on his belly. Covers sat atop his back, a book in front of him, and the previously missing pillow rested against the couch’s arm.

“Roast? What are you doing?” Firefly asked gently.

“Oh, hi honey.” Roast looked up at her and smiled. “I was just reading a book before turning in.”

“I can see that,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “I mean what are you doing here, in the living room with a pillow and comforter?”

He grinned, nervousness both flowing from him and marring his face. “I, uh, kind of thought that maybe you’d like a little space tonight?”

Her heart broke a little at what he must have been feeling all night. Even with her reassurances, he was still unsure where the lines of their relationship were. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and hers must have been a shout. She might still be a little miffed at lots of things, one of them being him, but she refused to let him segregate himself from her.

She snorted, perhaps a little too loudly. These fight things were for the birds.

“No.” She put on a disapproving frown.

“Er, uh, no?” he stammered.

“No,” she repeated. “I won’t let you do this. Just because we had, well, I had a little disagreement and need time to understand these new feelings, doesn’t mean we aren’t husband and wife.”

“I never said—”

“Shush. Get up, blow that candle out, grab your pillow, and come to bed. I’m tired and we have to get up early as usual.”

He looked at her for a moment before giving in. “Alright.”

She turned around and walked back down the hallway. Back in their bedroom, she went around to her side of the bed and turned on the nightstand light. By the time she’d placed a hoof onto the bed, Roast was standing in the doorway with a pillow under one foreleg. She could see and feel that he was still uncertain.

“Honey? Please come to bed,” she patted his side of the bed.

He walked over and put the pillow down.

“Sweetie,” Firefly began softly as he pulled his side of the covers back, “I’m sorry. I… I can’t stand you punishing yourself for something I did.”

“I wasn’t punishing myself,” he said and shimmied into the bed. “I was wanting to give you the space you needed to sort things out.”

Firefly paused for a moment, then softly grinned at her wonderful, sometimes headstrong, husband. “Thank you for that. But I don’t need that kind of space right now. Earlier this morning it might have been different. I’ve calmed down a lot since then.”

“So it was something to do with—” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “Right. Let you deal with it.”

“Roast, my love.” Firefly leaned over and held his cheek in her hoof, looking him in the eyes. “I promise you. Once I’m ready to talk, I will tell you. In the meantime, I want my husband.”

He gave her a genuine, though small, smile. “Okay.”

She leaned in and hugged him. Happiness filled her as he immediately returned the hug.

Firefly pulled back and gazed lovingly into his eyes again. “I love you.”

Roast smiled again. “I love you too.”
> Act I ~ Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sounds of dishes clinking, ponies’ chattering, and coffee brewing had long since died down in the Sweet Roast Cafe. The afternoon rush had passed hours ago and there were rarely more than a few dozen ponies that came between then and closing time.

With a glance at the clock above the barista bar, Fine Roast decided ten minutes after closing time was long enough. He turned and eyed the two mares quietly chatting over their empty drinks. Tea and coffee, if Roast remembered their orders correctly. He and Sweet Leaf—or Firefly, he was still figuring out which to call her—liked to give their customers a bit of leeway past closing time.

Roast thought it cute that the two mares were still playing games with each other. They’d come to the cafe three times that week and seemed to be slowly losing their nervous hesitance in front of each other. He hoped one would just make the jump and ask the other on a proper date. Really, he did want to give them a little more time to spend together, but he was a little anxious to be done early. He had an outing to go to.

He walked out of the barista area and towards the two mares. “Good evening ladies,” Roast began as he arrived at their table, the customers ceasing their conversation and turning to him. “Sorry to interrupt, but our cafe closed a little bit ago.”

“Oh!” the cyan mare on the left exclaimed. “Sorry, time slips by when in good company.”

“R-Right.” Her light gray companion awkwardly pushed out her seat and stood.

He fought to keep a silly grin off his face. Maybe not all of their nervousness was gone.

“That’s alright.” He gave them a friendly smile. “I wanted to let you know so you could start wrapping up.”

“It’s fine,” the first mare looked over at her not-marefriend, “we were just about done anyway.”

“Yep!” The gray mare nodded her head. “Totally done!”

Roast noticed the almost-hurt look the cyan mare gave her friend and felt bad for her. He nearly winced as it was quickly replaced by a happy smile. 

She pushed her chair back and stepped away from the table. “We’ll get out of your mane. Thanks for the delicious tea!”

“Yes, thank you, er, for the coffee. For me,” the cyan mare verbally stumbled out.

Poor girl. She’s not got a clue what she’s doing to her friend. Roast couldn’t help but think. “You’re very welcome and I hope you two have a wonderful night.”

Roast turned around and began walking back to the barista station. He couldn’t help but overhear their conversation in the quiet cafe.

“Would you like to, uh, go to a, I mean, go see something?” The gray mare asked.

Her friend hummed. “I have work early tomorrow morning. I… don’t think it would be good to stay out that late.”

Roast stopped and fought not to turn around. He knew he shouldn’t interfere, but it was so sad watching them tiphoof around each other.

He lost the battle against himself and turned back around. “Erm, ladies. If you’re looking for a nice place to check out, there’s a decently sized park a few blocks south of here. It’s got a nice hill that’s great for watching the sunset.”

The mares looked at him for a short moment longer before turning and looking at each other.

“Would you—” “That sounds—” They both spoke at once.

“Sorry, you first.” The cyan mare said.

Her friend looked at the floor and pawed a hoof. “I was going to say that sounds kind of nice and, uh, do you wanna go?”

Her friend let out a giggle. “Yes! I mean, yes. I think it would be fun.” She turned to Roast. “You said it was just south of here?”

Roast offered them another smile. “It is! Once you leave the cafe, take a left, then turn right at the next cross street. It’s only a few blocks down. You can’t miss it.”

“Okay! Thank you, Mister Roast.” She walked towards the cafe entrance, her friend quickly following.

“You’re welcome and have a nice night,” he said again, waving goodbye.

Once they’d left the shop, he looked up at the clock and noticed it was nearly six twenty. He’d need to hurry cleaning if he wanted to make it on time. He began his usual tasks of wiping down equipment and emptying old coffee grounds. After a few minutes, the cafe entrance door jingled open. He looked over and saw Sweet Leaf… Firefly… his wife enter, carrying a bag of trash.

He turned back to scrubbing one of his coffee maker seals and as he heard his wife’s hoofsteps go past him into the kitchen. The noise of the kitchen door opening and closing resounded a moment later, then once more as she came back in. She walked back into the cafe proper and came to a stop next to the barista area. He looked over and saw her holding a bemused smile and raised eyebrow.

“What?” He paused his scrubbing.

“Just what did you say to those young mares?” she asked. “I see you talking with them from the front, and then they come out a minute later, flushed with barely restrained excitement and love.”

He set the brush down. “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice the eggshells those two were walking on. I told them we were closing. It seemed neither wanted to go home, but they knew they couldn’t stay here.” He ignored the fact that the look still hadn’t left her face. “So, before they could talk themselves into doing nothing, I told them they could watch the sunset down at Legacy Park.”

She stared a moment later and let out a few giggles, rolled her eyes. “No subtlety at all there, hmm?”

“That wasn’t—” he began, but huffed and looked away. He didn’t really know what to say to that.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t make a very good changeling.”

Roast gave her an indignant look, unsure how to take that. He wasn’t trying to unnaturally shove them together. Besides, it seemed to turn out alright. In his opinion, he thought he read the situation pretty well. 

He watched as her expression fell and any of his indignancy dropped along with it.

She sat herself down on the floor and looked away. “Great. And now I’ve apparently forgotten how to be a good wife.”

Roast’s brows furrowed as he tried to understand the sudden shift. His eyes widened in recognition when he remembered she could sense his emotions. She must have noticed her remark cut him a little.

“Sweet, it’s okay.” He took a step towards her. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

She looked back at him with a hint of… anger on her face. “You stand up for me all the time, Roast. Why don’t you stand up for yourself once in a while?”

“You’re angry at me for… for trying not to be angry at you?”

“No. Yes. No! Augh!” Sweet collapsed her head in her hooves. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I opened my mouth.” She set her hooves down and sighed. “I’m the one who’s a terrible changeling right now.”

Roast wasn’t sure what to do, so he did the only thing he could think of. He walked over and wrapped her in a hug. She snorted and, after a moment, returned the hug.

Several seconds later, he let her go and looked at her. She didn’t meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Roast,” she apologized again. “I still need more time.”

“It’s alright, I can—”

Wait, time! His eyes widened and he stepped back to look at the clock. If he didn’t leave in the next five, he ran the risk of being late.

“Er, hon,” Roast turned back to her, “I have my weekly get-together with my friends in half an hour. Maybe you could use that time to sort your thoughts out?”

“What?” she asked, a questioning look on her face. “I thought those were on Sundays.”

He shook his head. “Normally, yes. I must have forgotten to tell you. Straight Angle came by a few mornings ago…” he trailed off and thought for a moment. “Actually, he came by Tuesday and, uh, you were there. Well… kind of.”

“Kind of?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

“You were, oh what was your name? Mint Something?”

“Oh, yes. Orange Mint,” she nodded her head. “I remember seeing him, but I must not have overheard that part.”

“He came to tell me Silver Trinket is going out of town on Saturday for a week to visit her parents, and they wanted to do a get-together before then.” He pawed a hoof at the floor. “And you, well, you said yesterday that you could make it up to me for cleaning. I’m not trying to count favors, but… would you mind?”

“Yes, I can cover cleaning.”

He sent her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Sweetie.”

“You’re welcome.” She returned his smile. “Are the three of you doing your usual bowling and dinner?”

Roast waffled back and forth. “Yes, but without the bowling. We all have to work tomorrow, and the others wanted to get home before their special someponies went to bed.”

“Oh, well that’s kind of sad.” Sweet Leaf stood up and walked into the barista area.  She grabbed this brush and the rubber gasket he was cleaning. “You four should think about doing something other than your usual. Spice it up a little.”

“Yeah, I can ask them, but uh, hon. I kind of need to go.”

She glanced up at the clock before turning to him. “Right, sorry. Go enjoy yourself!”

“We will.” Roast wrapped his wife in a quick hug. “I’ll see you tonight.”





Fine Roast followed the hostess inside their usual hangout, the Southside Grill. Thanks to his wife, he’d been able to leave a few minutes earlier than intended. To his surprise, he ended up arriving before any of the others had.

It was strange for Roast, seeing the place with far fewer ponies on a Thursday than on early evening Sundays. Normally, the din of the crowded restaurant would drown out any low conversation, but tonight there were less than ten tables occupied. The sound was far less than he was used to, but the atmosphere hadn’t changed a bit.

The restaurant’s dark blue walls were still well lit by the conservative, lamp-like chandeliers. The staff was still polite and gave off happy and energetic vibes. And the jukebox at the back of the restaurant was still playing out some new alternative band he’d not heard before. Not that he listened to many. It wasn’t really his style.

“Here’s your seat!” the hostess said. She stood slightly past the table to Roast’s right and gestured with a hoof.

“Thanks!” Roast said as he climbed into the booth’s nearest side.

“Here’s your menu.” She placed a large, rectangular booklet in front of him, then set a stack of three at the edge of the table. “And here’s the rest for your friends. Your server will be with you soon.”

“Thank you,” Roast said and picked up his menu. It hadn’t changed since their last get-together the previous Sunday. He already knew what they had, having come with the gang well over a dozen times. With nothing else to do, he decided to look it over. Not that he knew what he wanted yet, anyway.

They always liked to start with an onion ring tower appetizer, so that was the first thing to order. Once he’d gotten to the entree section, he pursed his lips. He kept flipping the pages back and forth between the stuffed eggplant parmesan and double stacked hayburger. Both sounded really good.

“Here you are, ma’am!” The hostess broke him of his dinner thoughts.

“Thank you,” a familiar voice said.

The voice’s owner came into sight as her light pink body passed the glass divider. Her dark pink mane was done up in her usual short ponytail. She turned her head and a little smile grew on her face as she saw him. “Hey, Roast.”

“Silver!” he said as she slid into the opposite side of the booth.

“How’s our favorite coffee connoisseur?” Silver Trinket offered a hoof and Roast bumped it from across the table.

“Decently good. Had some interesting times at the cafe lately.”

“Interesting times sound interesting,” she restated. “You’ll have to regale us once the others get here.”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Hey, what do you think I should get, the—”

“Ahp!” She held up her hoof. “Pick a number between one and ten.”

Roast groaned and rolled his eyes. “Really? Again?”

“Yes, really.” She imitated his eye roll with her soft blue ones. “You ask us, like, every other time.”

“I do not!” he held a hoof to his chest.

“Okay, fine. Maybe once every three times,” she conceded. “So, pick a number.”

He grumbled again before giving in. “Fine. Six.”

“Then get the first thing you were going to tell me.”

“You could have just said that.”

“And miss out on getting to tease you?” She leaned in, her smile only a little bit predatory. “Not a chance.”

“Yeah, fine.” He looked away with a half grin on his face, waving a hoof dismissively at her.  “I’ll get the eggplant parmesan then.”

“I don’t think you’ve had that in a while.” She grabbed a menu with her magic, opening and looking through it.

“Nope. It’s been a bit. Server also hasn’t been by yet.”

She looked up, mischievously. “Mm, so you didn’t get to order the tower.” She went back to her menu.

“Not yet.” Roast confirmed with a little glare, shaking his head.

“So, how’re the coffee machines doing?” Silver asked from behind her menu. “None of them are acting up, are they?”

“Nope. They’ve been working plenty well since the last time you fixed them.”

“Mm, good. Those things are a pain to take apart. Not as much as some of the machines I work on, but still.”

“Right.” He put an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hoof. “So, Miss Trinket, Angle told me you’re heading back to Canterlot.”

“Yep,” Silver Trinket said simply and stared at her menu. He could have sworn her smile became the tiniest bit tighter.

“Aaand you’re going to see your parents?” he asked again with a squint.

“Yep,” she repeated.

He eyed her for a moment. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I... thought you weren’t on good terms with them.”

She set her menu down and sighed. “I’m not, really.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because,” she cut him off and looked at him, “when your rich noble parents decide to have a ball to celebrate a new princess’s marriage and tell said princess that their ‘amazing’ daughter is going to be there, it’s kind of hard not to go. And now I’m not going for just one week, but two.”

Silver snorted and glanced away. “They had to push back the party by a week thanks to the whole thing with those changeling creatures. But they still want me to come the first week because they’re ‘so concerned for their precious daughter,’” she mocked.

“That, uh, doesn’t sound very good. But couldn’t you, well, not go?” Roast asked.

“Yeah, sure. And then word gets out that their daughter had a hissy fit and refused to attend.” She rolled her eyes seriously this time. “Hoofington might not have the biggest sociocultural climate, but there are a few customers that it would hurt to lose. In more than one way.”

“Are those customers really that big a part of your revenue?”

“Kind of, but not really,” Silver tilted her head back and forth. “The few appliances they do call for me to repair are big and expensive enough that they hardly ever break. But if they could influence other customers…” she let the words hang in the air.

“Do you think, maybe—”

“Roast, please.” Exasperation painted her face. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

He put a hoof up to placate her. “Alright, alright.” Silence hung in the air for a few seconds as Roast thought where to take the conversation. “So, how’s the pawn shop doing?”

She picked up the menu and started reading it again, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s alright. The number of customers ebbs and flows and it’s sitting around average right now, maybe a little less. More buys than sells at the moment, though.”

Roast Nodded. “Yeah, I can—”

“There’s two of my favorite ponies!”

Both he and Silver looked up at the interruption. Walking up to their table was a tall, dark-cyan-colored stallion, closely followed by a smokey white one.

“Hey Angle. Hey Sketch,” Silver greeted.

“Hey guys.” Roast waved and smiled, then looked again at the off white pony’s purple mane with lighter purple accents. “Got a new mane color, huh Sketch?”

Straight Angle gave the lanky white pegasus a couple slaps on the withers. “He sure did! My hubby did another special for him and I think it looks great!”

“Yes, Roast dear, I decided it was time to change once again.” Quick Sketch flipped his long mane. “Out was magenta and in was violet and lilac.”

“Yep, purple looks great on you, bud,” Angle said.

“Yes, of course. Purple.” Sketch’s wings  gave Straight Angle a light glare.

His glare, though subdued comparatively, reminded Roast of the first time Angle had severely generalized the color of Sketch’s mane at the time. If he remembered correctly, it had something to do with pigs and how uncivilized they are. Perfect bonding experience, really.

Angle stepped over to Roast’s side of the booth. “Hey, scooch over, willya?”

Roast scooted over, making room for the big pony.

“May I have this seat?” Quick Sketch asked Silver Trinket.

“Go for it.” Silver moved over a little and he climbed in.

“Hey there, everypony!” A mare came up to their table, an order pad in hoof. “My name’s Purple Dream and I’ll be your server for the night. Could I get you all started with something to drink?”

As the others placed their orders, Roast picked up his menu and flipped to the back, trying to decide if he wanted his usual or if he wanted to branch out a little.

“And for you sir?”

Roast put his menu down and mentally resigned to the usual. “I’ll take a root beer, please.”

“Sure. And can I get you all started on some appetizers?”

“We’ll do the onion tower, please, on my check,” Silver Trinket spoke first before the others could. Roast could see her pointedly ignoring their frowns.

“Sure! I’ll put in the order and have those drinks out for you in a couple minutes.” She stowed her pad in her apron pocket and left.

Silver received varying degrees of glares from the other three. 

“Dangit, Silver,” Roast said.

“What he said.” Angle nodded towards Roast. “Ya got it last time, too.”

She merely shrugged and picked up her menu again. “Snooze you loose, guys.”

Roast shook his head and chuckled. Since they always got the onion tower, it became a little game of theirs that whoever ordered the onion tower first got to pay for it. The only “rule” was no verbal shoving. Some ponies might think it a little backwards, but that was their problem. Roast was only mildly annoyed that he’d lost again for the fourth… fifth time? It was at least a month since he last got to pay for it.

Straight Angle huffed a little. “So anyway, what were the two a’ you talkin’ about?”

“A little bit about work,” Roast replied.

“Ugh!” Sketch leaned his head back and groaned dramatically. “Do not get me started about the tribulations of employment. Just yesterday I was finishing the outline for a mural on a customer’s window when he interrupted me. He said he wanted it on the inside! I made several failed attempts to inform him that I was indeed already painting it on the inside, as I was standing on a step ladder within his shop. Once I had finally gotten my point across, do you know what the buffoon told me?”

Sketch looked at each one of them in turn. They were used to this kind of thing from him. He wasn’t actually expecting an answer, he merely wanted to tell the story with his usual Quick Sketch flair.

“He told me he wanted it facing inside, text and all!”

“That seems kinda odd.” Straight Angle tapped his chin and furrowed a brow. “I don’t remember seein’ many window murals ya had to go into the shop to see.”

Sketch batted a hoof at the big stallion. “Precisely, dear. It took nearly ten whole minutes to get him to understand why that was a bad idea.”

“Maybe he was trying to go against the flow?” Roast suggested. When he merely got an odd look from the artist, he clarified. “Like, everypony does theirs facing the correct direction. Maybe he thought he could be different to attract attention?”

“That is…” Sketch started then narrowed his eyes, “actually somewhat cleaver. Though it would need to be specifically designed to be backwards and this piece was most certainly not.”

“Fair.” Roast shrugged. “Just playing evil’s advocate.”

“Mhm. It is appreciated, at times,” Sketch said before turning to his seat companion. “So, Silver, what is this I hear about you going back to Canterlot this weekend.”

“Uh, Sketch,” Roast interrupted. “I already went there. It’s best if we leave it be.”

Quick Sketch eyed Silver for a moment before turning back forward. “Very well.”

Silver Trinket caught Roast’s eye and gave him a thankful smile.

“What about you, Straight Angle?” Sketch asked. “Any amusing tales from work to regale us with?”

Angle shrugged. “Eh, not really. More of the normal stuff, lately. Finishing up a room addition for a shop over on East side. Gotta finish spackling ‘n throwin’ up some wallpaper and it’ll be good.”

“And maybe you could convince the owner to get some fancy window art from Sketch,” Silver said. “The first time I had him paint my windows, it was a thousand times better than anypony else.”

“Why thank you, Silver Trinket.” Sketch gave her an appreciative nod. “Ah, by the way you three, my marefriend wants to have all of you over for dinner at some point. She has been pestering me to ask the last few weeks and it kept slipping my mind. She says to bring your spouses and, um,” he looked over to Silver Trinket and put a hoof on hers, “I wanted to make sure you would be okay with that.”

She gave him a side glance. “What? Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

“Well, it’s going to be us three with our significant others, and I didn’t want you to feel like the odd one out, so to speak.”

“Sketch, come on,” Silver said as Sketch pulled back his hoof, “I appreciate the thought, but I’ve been out with you all and your special someponies before. Just because I don’t have a marefriend doesn’t mean I’ll feel left out. And besides, you all are really good about keeping everypony involved and engaged.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I am.” She nodded and gave him a smile. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Hey,” Angle looked over at Roast, “speaking of special someponies, how’s that Sweet of yours? You hear anything ‘bout her family thing?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He hadn’t expected a question about her and felt a little ashamed that he’d kind of forgotten about the whole situation. Left it at the restaurant door, so to speak. He hadn’t even talked with Firefly to come up with a decent cover story. “It turns out it wasn’t that big of a deal. A little health scare that her family exaggerated a bit about. Once she found out, she came right back and got home Tuesday evening.”

“Well that’s gotta be annoying,” Angle said. “Didn’t she head out late Monday night?”

“Uhh…”

Did she? He tried not to seem suspicious as he tried to remember what exactly he told Angle. Right, something about her mother and leaving the night before.

“Yeah, she did leave on Monday evening.”

“Hey again!” Their server stopped at their table, carrying a tray of glasses and their onion ring tower. “So super sorry about the wait. I wanted to make sure I got this appetizer out to you all as quick as I could.”

Fine Roast watched as she distributed everyone’s drinks and set the onion town in the middle of the table. He half paid attention as she began taking all their orders. Saved by the waitress. Roast almost let out a sigh, but caught himself before he did anything else to make them ask questions. He really needed to get with Firefly to get all this stuff figured out.

“And what would you like, sir?” the waitress asked Roast.

“Could I get the parmesan eggplant, please?”

“Stuffed eggplant parmesan, you got it. Anything else I can get for you all?”

As Quick Sketch took point on the waitress conversation, Roast reached for an onion ring and dipped it in the marinara sauce. He took a bite and thought about how he would deal with any more questions. Even though he had confided in them about his relationship troubles before, the topic wasn’t exactly one he could bring up in normal conversation anymore. He stared down at his half eaten onion ring, thinking about some story or other to tell them. This whole sneaking-around-and-mincing-words thing was kind of new to him. Maybe Sweet was right and he wouldn’t make a very good changeling.

“Hey Roast.” Silver Trinket snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He snapped his head up.

“Angle was saying something.” She nodded her head at the stallion sitting next to Roast.

Ugh, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid.

“Sorry,” Roast apologized, looking over at his friend, “kind of got lost in my own world.”

“Yeah, we could tell.” Straight Angle raised an eyebrow. “I was just askin’ if everything was okay.”

“Erm, yes? Why?” Stop stammering, dangit!

“Well, when I brought up Sweet Leaf, you kinda closed up and started staring at nothin’,”

“Oh,” he said lamely, looking down at his hooves.

Think of something quick! He frantically searched his brain, but couldn’t come up with anything believable that would make him act like that. Though maybe I could tell them only some of the truth. Maybe about Wavy?

He had no idea if it was a good idea to tell them or not. Then again, it was a public thing and Sweet Leaf did get upset at him that morning in front of everyone. He mentally shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

A few too many seconds had passed before Roast looked back up at Angle. He gave a sigh with the hope that it would make him seem more authentic. “Something did kind of happen, I guess. Sweet and I got into a bit of a… fight?” He grimaced at the word. “Eh, not really the right word. Had an incident with one of Sweet’s friends and, well, the whole thing is kind of complicated.”

“It’s quite alright, Roast, dear.” Quick Sketch smiled at him. “We have more than enough time to talk about it. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Roast wavered a little back and forth, but decided it would probably be the best. “Yeah, alright. So, late Monday night, one of Sweet Leaf’s friend’s special somepony named Wavy Pallette came by after the cafe had closed.”

“Wait a moment,” Sketch interrupted. “Wavy Pallette? I know him. He and I talked when he was showing his art at a gallery a few weeks ago. He seemed like quite the nice stallion.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, you may continue.”

Roast nodded. “Long story short, he claimed he saw his marefriend, Sweet’s friend, change into a changeling.”

“Woah, was it true?” Silver asked, wide eyed.

“Yeah, turns out it was. After he left, Bobby Pin, Wavy’s marefriend, came by and tried to attack Sweet Leaf outside.”

Quick Sketch gasped, holding a hoof over his mouth.

“Is she okay?” Straight Angle asked, concern covering his face.

“Yeah, she’s fine. I didn’t see what happened, but when I went out the back door to find out who Sweet Leaf had greeted, I saw Bobby Pin standing over my wife. Bobby Pin ran off after that. We went back inside and locked the door.”

Silver raised an eyebrow. “You guys didn’t go to the guard?”

“Erm, no,” Roast said, trying to think of an answer why they wouldn’t have. Ah, yes. “Earlier that day Sweet had gotten the letter about her mother and she had to go. I got caught up in seeing her off and kind of forgot. Plus, what would we have told them? That a changeling came by and jumped my wife?”

“It is not the statement to the guard that is important, Roast.” Sketch frowned at him. “It’s you and your wife’s safety. What if she had come back? What did she even come there for?”

“I… guess you’re right.” Roast couldn’t refute that. Normally, he would have gone straight to the guard, like Sweet Leaf had suggested that night. That was, if he hadn’t already known she wasn’t what she seemed. “And I don’t know. I think Sweet said Bobby was looking for something. I’ll take Sweet Leaf tomorrow and give a statement.” He pursed his lips. “But, that part wasn’t what was bothering me.

“Yesterday morning, Wavy came into the shop right at the tail end of the morning rush and accused Sweet Leaf of being a changeling.”

“He what?!” Quick Sketch gaped at Roast.

“Yeah, I was pretty incredulous. And angry.”

“I certainly would be too!” Sketch exclaimed. “I couldn’t imagine what I would do if somepony came and interrupted my work to make such baseless claims. Assuming Wavy’s claim was baseless, that is.”

“It was. Something about Sweet Leaf having spent too much time with her friend lately.” Once the others had finished snickered at the silly idea, Roast continued. “But the problem was something that happened during the fight that made Sweet Leaf angry with me. I’m not really sure what it was, though.”

“What do ya mean?” Straight Angle asked. “Can you think of anything that you might have done?”

“All I can think of is that I was trying to defend her, but I do that all the time. I guess she did try to get my attention once or twice.”

“Roast, dearest.” Sketch reached around the onion ring tower and patted Roast’s foreleg. “You can get a little, shall we say, one track minded sometimes.”

Roast sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Maybe that was the problem. She did yell at me and say she wanted to handle it. Said she wanted to get her piece out.”

“I can’t say for sure, but maybe it would be good to apologize and ask what’s wrong,” Silver added.

“That’s kind of the problem. She’s been a little distant since then and said she needed to figure her feelings out.”

“S’not really all that surprising.” Angle shrugged. “After feelin’ hurt, ponies sometimes need a little space. Maybe this was the tippin’ point and she needed to figure out which straw broke her back before she lashed out ‘n made things worse.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Roast let his sentence trail off.

A few seconds of silence passed before Silver’s horn lit up as she pulled an onion ring off the tower. “I can’t speak as much as you all, but I don’t know what I’d do if my special somepony turned out to be a changeling.”

“I’ve got no idea what I’d do, honestly.” Angle replied, grabbing an onion ring as well. “Probably try to grab it and shake an answer out of the thing.”

“Ugh! I do not want to even think about it.” Quick Sketch shuddered, wrapping his forelegs around himself, his wings half opening against the seat back. “I have a hard enough time dealing with normal sized insects. Imagine having to deal with a pony-sized one that can suck your love right out of you!”

“Aw, it’ll be okay, Sketch,” Silver said through a mouthful of onion ring, patting Sketch on the back. “We can get you a really big fly swatter.”

Quick Sketch rolled his eyes. “Could you please not talk with your mouth full.”

“Eh, I can think about it,” she said through more onion ring, then swallowed. “Somewhat related, I dunno if you guys read the newspaper lately, but there’s reports of a bunch of ponies accusing their special someponies of being changelings. No reports on any truth to it though.”

“Mmhm, I saw,” Roast agreed, happy to have a change of topic away from his wife, even if it was about her race. Species? He wasn’t sure. “One of the articles said a stallion accused his wife of coming home late from work and leaving for unexplained outings some nights. Sounds like an altogether different problem if you ask me.”

“Yeah.” Silver dipped another ring in the sauce. “I’m not really sure how to feel about the idea of having a bunch of love eating creatures around. Especially ones who could be disguised as who knows what. Though I do wonder, like, where did they come from? Why did they attack? How long have they even been in Equestria?”

“I have no idea,” Sketch said as he grabbed his first onion ring, “but I wish they’d figure out a spell already and squash the awful things. It’s far too frightening having those things roaming out there. Who knows when they might come and snatch up you or your loved ones.”

“I’m as much for stoppin’ foalnapping as any other pony,” Angle began, “but don’t cha think outright killin’ ‘em is going a little far?”

“Hardly!” Sketch flicked his mane back. “What do you think they do to the ponies they replace? And how about what they would have done to us should they have won?”

“I’m not sure what they do with them,” Roast half lied. He knew they drained ponies of love after taking them back to the hive, but he didn’t know if that was all they did. “Though don’t you think it would be better to figure out why they attacked before committing genocide?”

“Roast, dear.” Quick Sketch looked him directly in the eyes. “As you said, they have already attacked us. Without provocation, at that. We already know they replace ponies and apparently leave them to die. If they have that kind of moral compass already, how do you know any justification they could give would be truthful?”

“Shouldn’t everypo—everyone be given a chance though?”

“I’m kinda with Sketch on this one,” Silver Trinket interrupted. “Maybe not to his extreme, but he has a point. If they could be anypony, anywhere, how could you trust something like that? Everything they do and say could be a way to manipulate you into… whatever they want.”

“I… Hm. I guess you’re right.” Roast looked down at the table as the conversation lapsed into silence. He’d already given Firefly a free pass on that. There was no way she’d agree to let him freely talk to other ponies if she was still trying to cover up his discovery. And he’d already said he didn’t believe she was manipulating him, at least in a way that was harmful.

He looked up as the topic moved on to other things, but only barely paid attention. What if she wasn’t trying to manipulate him, but rather was doing it unconsciously? She said she was trained in being a… whatever she said she was. Did they cover what to do in Firely’s situation?

Or even if they didn’t, what if her hive ordered her to capture him? Would she try to find a way around it or simply give in? He didn’t believe she’d do anything to harm him, but Silver brought up a, well, it wasn’t necessarily good, but it was a point. Could he really trust a changeling after everything they did?

He mentally reeled. What was he even saying?! It was Firefly he was thinking about, not some rabid beast!  This was his wife that he dedicated himself to, even knowing for years she probably wasn’t a pony. He said he would trust her and he intended to keep his word. Even if… even if there were a lot of questions he didn’t know how to answer.

“Roast!”

Roast looked up in alarm at a Silver who had a furrowed brow. “Huh? What?”

“I tried calling you a couple times.”

“You were makin’ some faces there, bud,” Angle said, concern on his face.

“Ah.” Roast rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry guys. I kinda got lost again. Thinking about changeling things.”

“‘Salright bud.” Angle patted him on the back with his huge, heavy hooves. “They ain’t gonna getcha. Not while you still got us.”

“Uh, thanks guys and gal.” He made a show of giving each of them a thankful smile, though he hoped none of them would make good on that idle promise.

“Alright!” The server gleefully came up next to the table and placed a tray stand on the ground, setting the tray on top. “Who ordered the stuffed eggplant parmesan?”

“That was me.” Roast raised his hoof.

Once the waitress distributed the rest of the meals and moved on, Roast spoke up. “Hey, what would you guys think about doing something different next time we do an outing? Maybe visit a billiard hall or an arcade?”

“I would be ‘down,’ so to speak, for a night of billiards,” Quick Sketch said as he picked up a fork and knife in his hooves.

“Yeah, I could do that.” Silver agreed.

“Ooh, switching it up sounds great. What about…”

Roast smiled as he watched the results of his wife’s idea blossom. Though inwardly he frowned. The conversation had moved on, but Roast couldn’t keep his friends’ thoughts on changelings out of his mind. He didn’t want to consider what they might think or do if they knew about Firefly.

Going to the guard wasn’t a desirable option either. It was all too risky.

He may not know what to do with all these what-ifs, but he knew he loved her. They’d find a way to get through it, even if his trust needed a little reassurance every now and then.

But first, he had to figure out how to fix whatever he’d done to make Firefly upset.





Roast closed the back door and walked through the kitchen to the stairs. He and his friends had stayed out a little later than they intended and it was almost ten in the evening when he finally got home. Reaching the top of the stairs, he looked into the bedroom and he was surprised to see Sweet Leaf still awake.

“Hey hon.” Roast walked to his side of the bed.

She looked up from her book. “Hey. You’re home a little late. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was good. We got to talking after dinner and time flew by.” He lifted the covers and climbed into bed.

“Mm.” She bookmarked her book and set the novel on her nightstand. “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah. Though, we did talk a bit about what happened yesterday.”

That got her attention as she looked him directly in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Nothing… revealing, I hope.”

He shook his head. “No, we just talked about Wavy and Bobby Pin and his encounter yesterday morning.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

Roast sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked myself the same question, but the whole debacle was public and it seemed like it would have been odd if I didn’t tell them about it. If you weren’t a, well, changeling, then I definitely would have told them.”

She grinned and chuckled a little. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you could make a halfway decent changeling.”

He laughed. “Oh, I thought about that tonight and I think you were right. I’ve got a long way to go before I could be anywhere as clever as you.”

“Oh sweetie.” She smiled and laid a hoof on his. “I’ve been doing this my whole life. You can’t expect to have skills you’ve never used before.” Her smile dropped as she became more serious. “Though we are going to need you to start thinking a little more like a changeling, like you did tonight.”

“Yeah, definitely.” He nodded his head in agreement. “I noticed how hard it was when I was trying to come up with a story about how you went to ‘visit your family’ on Tuesday.”

“We’ll need to go over that so we can keep on the same page.” She retracted her hoof. “And I’ll need to send a letter over to my ‘parents’ in Manehatten so they know we used them. Just in case.”

“That’s smart.” Roast looked at her in mild surprise. “I hadn’t thought about that. Are there actual changelings posing as your parents over there?”

“Kind of. Lots of love collectors and infiltrators all over Equestria pose as family for different changelings via letter. I don’t have any ‘children’, but two others here in town do. My parents happen to be in Manehatten. It’s all a part of keeping lies straight.”

“So the two ponies at our wedding were those changelings?” he asked, curious about who really were the ones that kissed him on the cheek at his wedding.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I’d requested a couple changelings from the hive to pose as my parents and they assigned those to me.” She let out a long yawn. “Anyway, as much as I like educating you, we need to sleep.”

Her yawn infected him and he let one of his own out. “Sleep does sound good.”

As she was reaching for her bedside lamp, he remembered and held out a hoof.

“Uh, honey,” he began.

She paused and looked back at him. “Yes?”

“Were you able to… figure things out?” he said hesitantly.

She sat upright and looked at him again. “I think I did. Though I also think it would be best if we saved that for tomorrow when we’re both more awake.”

He sighed in relief. “That’s good. Okay, we can deal with that tomorrow.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Roast, for being patient with me.”

He leaned over and posed his lips a couple inches away from hers. When she leaned forward and met him, he pressed harder into her. He closed his eyes and savored the first kiss they’d shared since he’d confronted her about her true nature.

He pulled back and looked fondly at the love of his life. “Life might be bumpy sometimes, but we all need some love and kindness. Especially little love bugs like you.”

She giggled and pushed him away. “You’re such a sap.”

He grinned. “Maybe, but I’m your sap.”

“Well take your sappy self to dreamland. We gotta work tomorrow.”

“Yes, my dearest. Goodnight.”

He settled down and got comfortable. She turned out the light and soon, he heard her telltale slow, sleeping breaths. For over an hour he sat, trying to get to sleep. Eventually, he felt her body relax, but his mind kept wandering and playing the evening over and over. Even focusing on her warmth in front of him didn’t help, the thoughts kept coming back.

Several times, sleep nearly found him, but he would snap awake. Another hour passed before his mind exhausted itself enough to fall into slumber’s clutch.

His dreams were not pleasant.
> Act I ~ Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meadowlark sat, staring out of the train with half lidded eyes, elbow planted on the window ledge, cheek resting in her hoof. She hadn’t kept track of how long she’d been apathetically watching the landscape slowly pass by, turning from endless hilly grassland into interspersed rural communities. Her gaze lingered, then flicked from one area to the next. A couple carriages passing each other. Farmers working fields in the mid-morning autumn weather. Ponies constructing a new barn’s frame.

“Next stop, Cincinneighti! If this is your final destination, please begin gathering your belongings. We will be arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

She turned away from the window, watching as the conductor passed her, probably to give the same message to the next car. Glancing over at her saddlebags on the seat next to her, she nodded to herself that they were indeed still there. She then turned her gaze to the cabin once again.

The mare and stallion who had been on the train since Meadowlark joined at Hoofington were still in the same seats two rows ahead of her, facing away and quietly talking. The mother at the far corner of the carriage was waking her filly, no doubt to depart at the next stop. No one else had joined their cabin since Hoofington.

Meadowlark yawned and covered her mouth with a hoof. Feeling the urge, she breathed in deep and stretched, arching her back and flaring her wings. Little grunts escaped her as her spine popped. Releasing the tension and folding her wings, she licked her dry lips and shifted to find a more comfortable position. Finally settling down away from the window, she twisted her lower half, resting on a thigh and lowering her chest to the seat. Relaxing fully, she let out a long, quiet sigh.

She was tired, her back hurt, and she was pretty sure she was starting to smell again. None of that was surprising when one spent the previous two nights sleeping on a park bench after finding an easy house to repossess goods and bits from. Prowling long hours into the night and hardly restful sleep did not make it easy to keep up one’s comfort or appearance. Checking to make sure none of the other four cabin occupants were looking, she put her muzzle close to her underarm then wing pit, taking a couple sniffs. She pulled away grimacing as, sure enough, the odor was returning.

Huffing, Meadowlark realized she’d need to clean herself up before leaving the train. Reluctantly, she moved from her comfy spot and slid out of her seat. Donning her saddlebags, she left the cabin through the door behind her. Entering the short hallway, she saw three doors. Ahead led to the next carriage, on her right was marked for employees only, and on her left was the restroom. She slid open the left door, walked into the small space, and closed then locked it.

Putting her saddlebags on a coat hook, she eyed the toilet. She didn’t really need to go, but figured it would be best to do so while she could.

After finishing her business, she stood in front of the sink and mirror. She listened for a short moment behind her and, once satisfied the only sound was clunking of train wheels over tracks, she closed her eyes, letting signature green flames engulf her. Opening her eyes again, Spindle took in her changeling form once more. Even in this form, she looked tired. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes drooping. That would have to be fixed. In a little bit, though.

Focusing on her body, she looked along her head and frills, spotting definite signs of grease. She shifted her wings and felt slickness on her black chitin.

She grabbed some paper towels in her magic, wetting them with water and hoof soap and began to scrub herself down. Spindle thought, not for the first time, that it would be much more convenient for bodily excretions to simply disappear when transforming.

But no, she rolled her eyes as she wiped down her wings, that would be too easy.

Though she was a little grateful that she could transform her mane and coat into a combed state and a lot grateful that her chitin was far easier to clean and dry than fur.

After soaping herself, she ran multiple wet paper towels over her body until there was no soap, then finished by wiping up any leftover wetness with dry towels. Throwing away the used products into the waste bin, she looked herself in the mirror once more. Green flames engulfed her again and greeting her was Meadowlark's light grey coat, darker grey mane, and… green eyes?

Meadowlark squinted into her own orbs, trying to remember if they were, indeed, green. She scowled at herself for not remembering even the most basic of things a changeling needed to remember when disguised. In her own defense, she’d made her pony guise in a rush, finding some colors that worked and moving on; it wasn’t like she looked at her own eyes very often anyway.

She rolled her decidedly wrong eyes at herself. Defending you from yourself? Really? She shook her head, focusing again on her irises, knowing she needed to fix the color.

Flash. Yellow? No, that looked terrible with grays. Flash. Blue? It wasn’t a bad combination, but it still wasn’t the right one. Flash. Magenta? Kind of? But it still wasn’t clicking. Flash. Purple?

Her eyes lit up in recognition. Purple! That was the one. Purple. Remember purple.

Taking her focus off the color of her eyes, she noticed that while it was less obvious, her eyelids were still drooping with fatigue. She took a deep breath and straightened her back, squeezing her eyes shut then rapidly blinking away her tiredness.

It worked as well as could be expected. That is, not very well. Hopefully she’d wake up after she got moving into Cincinneighti proper.

Her body jerked and she caught herself as the train suddenly lurched, slowing down. She looked back at the door, realizing they must be arriving.

She grabbed her saddle bags, secured them onto her back, and right as she was about to head out the door, she stopped. Another flash of green flames engulfed her. She decided that she may as well have her pheromone glands in place, just in case she ran into another changeling.

With that taken care of, she headed out into the little hallway and then the cabin. As she walked towards the next train car, she looked out the window and saw city streets and buildings passing ever slower outside.

Back in front of her, the mare and stallion were naught to be seen and the mother was ushering her daughter through the cabin door on the far side of the carriage. She hurried over, following the two into the next cabin and waiting with several other ponies. Soon enough, the train passed into a large, enclosed station. Inside was a fair-sized crowd waiting on benches or in front of the boarding area.

The locomotive crawled to a stop and the conductor opened the door, releasing the horde of ponies into the station. Meadowlark followed at the rear of the gaggle and soon exited the carriage. Outside of the train stood the conductor, repeating himself every few seconds. She locked eyes with him and he smiled, offering her the same statement.

“Welcome to Cincinneighti!”

Meadowlark stopped next to the train employee. “Thank you. You wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest welcome center is, would you?”

“Of course!” He offered a smile. “Head out the big double doors and take a right. It’s at the end of the block on the other side of the street. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you again.” Receiving a nod from the conductor, she left, crossing the large building and exiting through the double doors.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. It came and went; one breath it would be there, another couple and it was gone. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed a few more times to try and place it. The closest thing she could think of was the days old musty pizza and grilled cheese that Wavy Palette sometimes left out when struck by inspiration. She immediately decided she wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Hey, you mind movin’?”

Behind her she noticed she’d blocked one side of the doors, ponies passing around her through the other.

“Sorry.” She scampered off down the sidewalk. Looking across the street at the end of the block, sure enough there was a building with a wide, wooden sign. In big, arching letters, it said “Welcome Center” and under the text was a cornucopia of ponies. A ballerina dancer next to a tiger, an opera singer next to a chef holding a plate, and an artist painting next to a pony playing guitar.

Meadowlark raised an eyebrow at it. The sign was very… enthusiastic looking, but its grandeur was offset by the building’s noticeably faded white paint. Though, it didn’t matter what it looked like, as long as it could get her what she needed. Reaching the intersection crosswalk, she stopped, waiting for the traffic of carriages to free up.

After a short bit, other ponies began to cross and she stepped off with them. Once across the street, she walked over to the welcome center’s front door and peered at the well-worn open sign. It featured a smiling magenta, earth pony mare with a coral mane, happy, bright sky blue eyes, and a hoof held out in welcome. Meadowlark pulled open the door, bells jingling above her. In front was an old, chipped counter about chest height running all the way to the right wall. Placed all across it were stands displaying pictures and pamphlets of attractions and locations to visit. To the left was a small hallway and to the right a small area with a well packed brochure stand along the side and front walls.

Seeing nopony around, she went over and looked through the brochures. There were so many, she wasn’t sure where to even start. Right as she was reaching a hoof to grab one about art museums, she heard a door open in the hallway. She turned and saw a middle aged, magenta mare round the corner, featuring a coral mane and tail, matching the open sign pony in everything but age.

“Well hello there dearie!” The mare gave her beaming smile. She came to stop behind the counter opposite of Meadowlark. “Welcome to Cincinneighti! My name’s Rosy Swirl and I run this welcome center. Though everypony just calls me Mamma Rose. Now who might you be?”

“Uh, hi,” Spindle hesitated, initially put off by the utter cheer the pony was exuding. “My name’s Meadowlark.”

“Wonderful to meetcha Miss Meadowlark! I saw you were looking through those brochures. Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda new here.” She paused for a second, then awkwardly chuckled as she realized how silly that was. “B-But you probably already knew that. I’m wanting to find some art shows or galleries.”

Mamma Rose hummed for a moment, then turned and walked out from behind the counter. “Well, I’m not too sure about art shows at the moment, but we’ve got a few art galleries downtown, east of here.” She came to a stop next to Meadowlark and, reaching into the sea of brochures, she plucked out a set of three. “Here you are Miss Meadowlark. These are the only ones I’m aware of. Was there anything else you were looking for?”

“Yes, do you happen to know of any inns on the, erm, cheaper side?”

“Well…” she began slowly, “you certainly won’t find any in the downtown area. I would try heading north of Downtown. There’s some decent lodging on the cheaper side. Further west of here are very cheap motels, but I’m afraid I couldn’t recommend you that way and would advise you stay clear of there. The area has quite a few unsavory neighborhoods and businesses.”

Unsavory neighborhoods might have to be what Spindle reduced herself to. Hoofington was small enough to not have many criminals or ne’er-do-wells, so sleeping on a bench wasn’t much of an issue. Here, she definitely didn’t want to risk falling asleep around who knew what kind of ponies. Not to mention she had no idea how the local guard dealt with homelessness.

“Thank you for the advice. You said Downtown was East of here?”

“Oh, sweetie.” She set a hoof on Meadowlark’s shoulder. “Cincinneighti might not be a sprawling Manehatten metropolis, but it’s certainly quite large. The heart of downtown is around twenty or so blocks from here and I would definitely recommend taking a taxi.”

“That’s okay.” Meadowlark put on a smile, knowing she didn’t have the bits to spare for a taxi. “I don’t mind walking.”

Mamma Rose gave her a tilted glance and a raised eyebrow. “If you’re sure. It’s a bit of a trek.”

At Meadowlark’s nod, the older mare continued.

“Alrighty then, dear.” She reached over to stand on the counter and pulled out a city map. She opened it and set it on a clear counter space, pointing to a spot on the map. “Okay, we’re here near the center of the city. East of us over here,” she moved her hoof right, “is where you’ll want to go. Could I borrow those brochures for a moment please?”

Meadowlark hoofed them over and Mamma Rose grabbed a pen on the counter. The magenta mare scribbled dots and named them, then drew a circle a little ways north. Once she was done, she moved aside, reaching over and pointed to the three dots downtown. “Here are all three of your art galleries. And up here is where I would start your look for hotels. Any questions?”

Meadowlark studied the map for a few moments, making sure she knew which direction to head. “No, ma’am. Thank you for your help.”

“It’s what I’m here for, dearie.” Mamma Rose beamed then grabbed and folded up the map, giving it and the brochures back to Meadowlark. “Now, if you ever need something else or just wanna have a nice chat, you’re always welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Meadowlark said again, placing the pieces of paper in her saddlebags. She waved at the kind mare and turned, opening the door, the bells jingling on her way out.

She walked to the street corner and took a left, moving deeper into the city.

Not for the first time, the thought of being on her own reared its head as she continued down the sparsely crowded streets. When she first arrived in Hoofington, Skitter had been there to receive her and show her around. She remembered from her training in the hive that there were groups of love collectors in multiple cities, including Cincinneighti. She simply had no way of finding them in such a large place. The best she could do was find a motel or place to stay and send a letter back to the hive.

Before she’d left the hive for Hoofington, Spindle also had a proper set of saddlebags with a bag full of bits and love crystals. Now she only had a pair of reappropriated, somewhat weathered saddlebags and a mere dozen and a half bits left after purchasing her train ticket. She could attempt to raid more houses, but that in itself was quite risky. She preferred to play it safe and wait for the hive to respond.

As she waited at another busy cross street, an empty, clawing sensation grew deep in her chest not for the first time. She ignored it as best as she could. There was nothing to do about her growing hunger for love. The only way to fix it was to wait for something from the hive or find a pony to love her.

It was quite unlikely she’d find the latter in any reasonable amount of time.

The street cleared and she crossed, continuing into the outskirts of downtown Cincinneghti. She’d only had a couple months to get used to it, but already she missed having a home to return to and a pony to give her love. She missed getting to spend time with Firefly and even Fine Roast. She missed the monthly changeling meetings, but most of all, she missed not being hungry.

A bit selfishly, she was happy she’d been able to make it through collector training, even if it was by only a small margin. There were times such as those present when she would be hungry, but back at the hive, love rations were always limited. There was plenty of solid food at the eatery, but no changeling was ever portioned out enough love to be satisfied. Spindle idly wondered how much worse it was going to get at the hive now.

A deep growl emanated from her stomach and she put a hoof over her belly, a stark reminder she hadn’t eaten anything physical since the evening before. Having entered downtown proper, she kept an eye out as she continued walking. Not but a few minutes later, she spotted what looked like a half outdoor cafe the next block down.

Once she’d crossed the street and neared the place, found it indeed was what she suspected. A sign above the cafe proclaimed it as The Fancy Unicorn with a silhouette of the same in an elegant pose. A decorative, chest high, black metal fence surrounded the outdoor seating area. Nearly the entire side of the building was a wide, open door, leading to the indoor seating. Standing next to the single open gate was a hostess in a tuxedo suit top.

Meadowlark stepped up to the open gate and faced the well dressed mare.

“Good morning and welcome to The Fancy Unicorn!” the hostess greeted cheerily. “How many are we seating today?”

“Just one, please.”

“Sure!” She grabbed a menu and a set of utensils. “Would you like inside or outside?”

“I think inside would be best.”

“Of course. Please follow me.”

It was a little less than an hour from lunch time and there were several ponies already seated. The hostess led her past other guests to a table inside and placed the menu and utensils down. “Your server will be with you shortly.”

Meadowlark placed her saddlebags on the opposite chair and sat down. The interior of the restaurant was a soft blue with interspersed stone-like columns and sparse modern art paintings that she was sure somepony, somewhere could find meaning in. Even with one of her skill focuses in training being artistry and coming from a role dating an artist, she still didn’t understand how four different colored, haphazardly placed circles on a canvas could be considered art.

She nearly contemplated it for a moment, but decided then wasn’t the time to attempt unraveling the universe’s mysteries. Opening the menu, she looked the first page over and realized she might have made a little mistake. While she could probably afford some of it, a proper meal would likely cost nearly all the bits she’d pilfered.

“Hey there!” A pink earth pony in a suit came practically skipped up to her table. “My name’s Juniper. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

“Uh, just water please.” Meadowlark said, considering if she should simply leave and find somewhere more affordable.

“You got it! Any appetizers for you?” 

“No thank you.”

“Gotcha. I’ll be right back with that water.” The server trotted off towards the kitchen.

Humming, Meadowlark tapped the table as she perused the menu, looking over the prices. Thinking about it and considering where she was, she doubted there would be many cheaper restaurants in the area, except maybe a Hayburger joint. She shrugged, deciding she’d simply not pay. She was a changeling after all, though she did feel a tiny bit guilty about it.

Now then, what to eat? Going to the first entree page, she looked over her options. Preferably she’d like something light in carbs. Even though she was in a pony’s body, she still had no use for them. Though as Skitter liked to make known every meeting, they often could be quite tasty.

Looking away from the menu, she considered for a moment. If she were ever in a negative size waist disguise, that excuse would work great. It would allow plenty more nutrients that her body could actually process rather than throwing bits at food that went to waste. At least, she thought that’s how those diets worked.

Yeah, like you’d ever find a role as a model. Keep dreaming.

She snorted and shook her head, focusing back on the menu. Eventually she reached the salad section and was pleasantly surprised to find a salad topped with tofu, peas, quinoa, and a peanut butter dressing. It even had a fitting name. She set the menu down as looking further was decidedly not needed.

A few moments later, her server came from behind and set her glass of water on the table. “Here you are, ma’am. Have you decided what you’d like to eat?”

“Yes. Could I get the protein kicker salad please?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

Meadowlark shook her head. “No thank you, that’s it.”

“You got it. I’ll get that put in as soon as I can.”





Less than half an hour later, Meadowlark set the fork down, chewing on the last bits of her salad. She swallowed and sat back, a contented sigh escaping her lips. The meal was more than decent and if she’d ended up staying in Cincinneighti, she would make this one of her go-to restaurants. Assuming she found somepony that made decent bits or if she could make some herself.

She felt bad for not compensating the ponies for such a tasty meal, but she’d done the math and she’d only have a single bit left after paying for it, not including the tip. She preferred to have money for later in case there were situations she couldn’t change her way out of.

Pushing her seat back, she stood, moved around to the other side of the table, and donned her saddlebags. After situating them on her back, she looked around and spotted the restroom sign in the back. She nearly took a first step before a voice called from behind her.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Meadowlark turned around and saw her waitress a few steps behind. “Yes?”

“Pardon the intrusion, I was just about to check in and see if there was anything else you needed before I brought you the check.”

Well that was inconvenient. She was hoping to get out without her server noticing. “No, I don’t. I need to make a trip to the restroom and I’ll be right back out.”

“Of course! Take your time.”

The mare was very smooth. A pony could have easily been fooled by her smile and disarming tone. Though beneath that cheery, smiling exterior, Spindle felt suspicion oozing out and Spindle couldn’t blame her. She’d likely experienced such eat-and-run tactics before.

Unluckily for the poor server, she wasn’t dealing with a pony.

Meadowlark offered the mare a final smile then turned towards the restrooms. Making her way around tables and along the rear wall, she entered the mare’s room. The decor matched the main indoor area, though the strong floral scent was an addition she could have done without. She wrinkled her nose at the smell as she walked past the couch and sinks on the left and the first two stalls on the right. Thankfully, only the first stall was in use and she entered the last. Closing the door, she set her saddlebags on the coat hook then stood silently as she waited for the other occupant to leave.

She could feel a sneeze coming on from the potent flowery scent. There were worse smells in such facilities, but— “AH CHOO!” —she wiped her nose, wishing it weren’t this potent. No other mare’s restrooms she’d been to in Equestria had been this bad or was even like this at all. Maybe it was something fancy restaurants did?

Soon enough, the mare in the other stall finished, washed her hooves, and left. Now alone, Spindle tapped her chin in thought as she tried to come up with a good disguise. She figured a pegasus would be good here. While she was scouting for potential sources, mobility would be nice to have. She also still wanted to be a mare; she was never very good at behaving like a stallion. Her acting was passable and had gotten her through training, but she never felt right playing as a stallion. Plus having male “equipment” was plain weird.

With a flash, she changed into a… pegasus? Her brows furrowed as it felt like nothing had changed. Realization dawned on her and she facehooved. You were already a pegasus, you dummy. Well at least with the shift she’d also changed to a random mare voice.

Moving on and ignoring her lack of attentiveness, for a cutie mark, she was a pegasus, so something cloud related. Her flanks flashed and a sun partially hiding behind clouds appeared. Turning to inspect it, she had no complaints. This was likely a throw away disguise anyway, so no need to spend that much time on it.

Along with a cutie mark came a name. No need to be all that creative. Something Breeze maybe. Silver Breeze? She shook her head. Meadow Breeze? She almost decided against it, but figured it would be good enough. There was only one pony who knew her current disguise’s name anyway and she had no intention of using that barely-there connection.

That just left colors. Spindle wished she could be in front of a mirror. All collectors were taught color theory, but her imagination of colors was always a bit off. They never seemed right until she could see herself all together and make little tweaks. But it was simply too risky for somepony to walk in on her as she was changing.

Spindle looked her current disguise over, Lifting a foreleg, she inspected her light gray coat and pulled her darker gray mane into sight. She would have looked at her green—no, purple. Purple!—eyes, but she had no reflective surfaces. For her purposes, she needed something different enough from her current form so she could waltz right past the servers and hostess.

Perhaps yellow? She shifted her coat and cringed at the bright banana yellow. Eugh, no. Something less offensive. Shifting again, she went with a cream coat, not too dissimilar from Fine Roast’s fur. She shrugged, figuring it was good enough.

Now mane color to match. Yellow’s complement is purple, so cream’s would be… light purple? She was pretty sure that was right and shifted into it, making her mane extra long to compare colors. Laying her hair over her foreleg, she scrunched her muzzle, not sold on the combination.

Perhaps go monochrome instead? Shifting her mane again into a darker cream, almost brown, she still didn’t like it. Augh! This wouldn’t be so tedious every time if ponies weren’t somehow born with color coordinated bodies! She huffed and decided one of the triadic colors would be it, even if it didn’t look great. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the color wheel again.

The left side of the triangle would be… pinkish, rose I think. And the right would be light blue. She decided to go light blue, shifted, and held her foreleg up to her long mane once again. Wavering for a moment, she shrugged and thought it good enough. Eyes, she decided, would need a little contrast and would be green. Actually green this time.

Shifting again into green eyes and a slightly windswept, withers-length mane, she put her saddlebags on and opened the stall door looking straight ahead at a mirror. She walked up to it and squinted at her reflection. Her eyes were okay, but her mane wasn’t quite right, rather it was too light. She glanced over at the door and quickly shifted her mane into a slightly darker sky blue.

Satisfied with her appearance, surprisingly quickly at that, she turned left and headed out of the restroom. Meadow Breeze snorted at the fresh air, happy to be free of the cloying fragrance. Walking towards the exit, she discreetly glanced over at her, or rather Meadowlark’s, table and saw there was indeed a check there. She decided if she ever did come back to the restaurant and got the same waitress, she would leave a big tip for her.

Passing through the now fairly crowded restaurant and into the outdoor section, she headed for the exit where the hostess was posted. As she neared, they locked eyes for a brief moment, giving each other a nod. As the other mare opened her mouth to speak, she instead looked around Meadow Breeze when the well dressed mare turned to look at her.

“Hey, miss!” a voice called behind her.

Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with her, and maybe whatever anger was flooding from behind her was for someone else. So Meadow Breeze decided to continue on, nearly reaching the gate.

“Hey, lady!”

“Excuse me.” The hostess held up a hoof in front of Meadow Breeze. “It looks like my partner’s trying to get your attention.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Meadow said, grumbling internally at the interruption. She turned and saw Meadowlark’s waitress, Juniper if she remembered correctly, looking right at her, anger very evident on her face. She almost panicked.

What did I do?!

“Miss,” the server began sharply, “if I’m not mistaken, those are not your saddlebags.”

Spindle barely managed to keep the surprise off her face. Oh for the love of Chrysalis! I didn’t even think about my saddlebags!

“Ah, uh,” Meadow stammered and looked back at the bags on her back. She really wanted to keep these bits and the pamphlets, but she couldn’t think of anything to say that would let her keep them. Out of ideas and time, she faced the waitress again. “I’m so sorry. I have a pair like this at home and I saw them resting on the couch in the restroom and I just grabbed them without thinking. I’m really sorry, I’ll go put them back.”

Juniper gave her a glare, searching her face with skepticism dripping from her. “Alright,” she said simply, stepping to the side.

Meadow Breeze walked back to the restroom, more than a few pony’s eyes on her. Several were regarding her with disdain, some openly showing it, some only sensible by Spindle. She opened the restroom door, unhooked her saddlebags, and set them on the couch. Her nose wrinkled again at the smell and she took a step towards the door, but suddenly paused at a thought. Those pamphlets showed exactly where she was heading. Looking at the stalls and seeing no pony had entered since she left, she opened her bags, took out the three pamphlets and map. She walked to the trash can, looking over the three pamphlets.

She had no idea how long she had before the server got testy and came inside, so she looked over the pamphlets, trying to commit the names to memory, then threw them away. She turned back and headed out the door. She stopped immediately, startled as she came face to face with the waitress.

“I-It’s back in there. I’m sorry for the mix up,” Meadow Breeze said once again. Feeling hot under the other mare’s gaze and her own stupidity, she wished she was anywhere but there. Her nose twitching didn’t help the situation.

“Mind lifting up your wings?” Juniper asked, still squinting.

“I, um. Yes, sure.”

Seemingly satisfied when nothing fell from under the lifted appendages, Juniper puffed out of her nostrils. “Thank you. I’m sorry for being so unpleasant. This wouldn’t have been the first time somepony tried to steal here, from the restaurant or guests.”

“It’s, uh… uh, AH CHOO!” Meadow snorted noisily and wiped her nose again. “Sorry, that fragrance is really strong. Your actions were perfectly understandable.” Meadow put on her most convincing, sympathetic smile.

“Well, bless you, I suppose. And sorry again. Feel free to go about your day.” She gave Meadow a nod and walked off towards the kitchen.

“T-Thanks…” Meadow Breeze stammered lowly. She watched Juniper for a few seconds and saw her looking over towards Meadowbreeze’s table. Deciding she really did not want to have to deal with her again should she find no pony in the restroom, she began walking as naturally as she could towards the exit. She passed by the hostess, giving her a nod and silently sighing in relief as she finally wasn’t stopped.

Turning onto the street, she forced herself to stay calm and refused to think about anything. She couldn’t think. If she did, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Stop thinking about not thinking.

Once again, she waited for carriage traffic to lighten before crossing. Out of the corner of her eye, she peered over at one of the ponies crossing with her. He wasn’t paying attention to her at all, but she wondered if he were to look over, would he see a normal, calm pony or would he see the disaster of a mare she felt like? Would she be able to assuage his concerns if he sensed something was off?

It was easy in training. Well, easier. Even when they had to go into life threatening situations, it was still only a simulation of the real thing. It was only the changeling instructors she had to fool and as long as she passed each lesson, everything went back to normal until the next performance check.

The real, pony world never went back to normal.

And you’re still thinking!

She’d only traveled a block and she was already cracking. The thoughts wouldn’t stay out of her head and she was fighting to keep her jaw from trembling. She came to an alleyway and stopped, peering down it. Seeing it empty, she hurried into it. Nearly halfway to the next street, she sat herself down between some trash cans.

“W-Why can’t you just… be like all the other collectors?” Spindle whispered to herself. Why can’t you remember things? Why can’t you pay attention to big, glaring details like a whole Chrysalis damned pair of saddlebags?! Why can’t you even remember your own disguise?

Tears began pooling in her eyes. It wasn’t fair. None of the others had the problems she did. When she got put under stress, she would start to lose focus and miss details, not that she had that great of a memory to begin with. She’d been able to scrape by collector training by remembering over and over that it was only training. Rarely were they actually put into threatening situations when they were tested. Telling herself that over and over let her focus on the things she needed to in order to not fail. Thankfully, even the few times she did mess up, the instructors never caught it.

None of that mattered now though. The real world didn’t forgive mistakes. She’d gotten lucky again and it was only a matter of time before… she didn’t want to think about that.

She sniffled as a tear finally broke free from her eye, leaving a wet trail down her false fur. You stupid, little… you can’t even keep your emotions in check. She couldn’t be feeling like this right now. Somepony could come by at any moment and she’d be done. They’d take her to the guards and they’d make her tell them where her queen was and then they’d…

Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Real collectors didn’t cry. They didn’t let their emotions get the better of them. Firefly never let her emotions get the better of her and if Firefly could do it, so could she. Wiping the moisture from her eyes, she set her trembling jaw stiff, willing the stupid sadness away. Thankfully, there weren’t any other collectors around. If they’d seen her and known what she was blabbering about, they’d probably throw her in a cocoon and ship her back to the hive.

She breathed in deep, held for a moment, then let it out with only a little shakiness. She had to move, she had to start her look for a source, and she had to find a place to stay. Changelings back home were counting on collectors like her.

Standing, she stepped out of her trashcan cubby and made her way back out of the alley. This wasn’t the safety of the hive and it wasn’t a test where life would go back to normal after. This was the cold, uncaring pony world and her only option was to continue on and do better. She’d locked herself into that decision by leaving the hive.

Choice hadn’t been a luxury of hers for a long time.





The Fine Line.

Meadow Breeze stood in front of the unassuming building, looking up at the small, minimalistic sign bearing a line of its name above the door. It took her half an hour of trotting down random streets before she gave up and asked for directions. It only took three ponies before she found a stallion who knew the place. A few blocks later and there she was.

She stepped forward, opening the door and going inside. Immediately she was greeted by a wide, oddly shaped hallway that narrowed unevenly to the right side. On the left side was a small passage with a restroom sign next to it and hanging on the walls were a plethora of paintings and drawings. Only one stallion was in this area admiring the artwork and he paid her no mind as she continued on into the next weirdly dimensioned room.

“Hello!” a mare greeted, sitting at a desk immediately on the left in the room. “Welcome to The Fine Line. Would you like a brochure?” She gestured to the tri-folds sitting fanned out on the table.

“Yes please. Thank you,”  Meadow replied, taking a pamphlet. She looked it over as she continued deeper into the gallery. The first page said this particular set of artwork had been on display for the past six days. Further along, it showed all the artists that had contributed their creations. She noticed several big names at the top, but didn’t recognize anyone from the last half.

Satisfied that those were more than likely the local artists, she set off down the odd angled room to another odd angled hallway. Several scattered ponies stood in front of artwork, admiring them or chatting quietly amongst themselves. She peered at the nametags displayed below the frames ponies were near, checking if any matched those she was interested in.

Finally, in the next room a mare and a stallion stood quietly in front of a set of artwork belonging to a pony named Masonite. The pamphlet had a picture of her that showed her to be a unicorn mare. While Spindle had never had a female source before, she was confident she could remember her training about dating mares. Plus, it wasn’t like she could be picky in this situation.

Walking up to a painting two down from the couple, she idly observed the artwork. It seemed this line was all about strangely drawn ponies expressing disconnected and out of place emotions amongst contrasting scenes. Perhaps a metaphor about the inner self’s disparity with the rest of the world? She wasn’t quite sure.

A moment later, the couple took a step towards Meadow Breeze, observing the painting to her right. Meadow looked over and saw the painting to be a mare at a cafe gazing lovingly at a stallion across the street while everyone except her was running from a giant sea monster. A sea monster which happened to be crushing a table right next to the mare.

“I wonder what the artist’s special somepony thinks of her works,” Meadow quietly thought out loud.

The stallion on her right glanced over at her. “I’m not sure. I’d like to imagine he thinks it rather intriguing if he’s still with her after the last year.”

“Hm. I suppose so.”

Well that’s probably a bust. While she could put Masonite’s special somepony on a mental list of ponies to replace, she didn’t have the time to stalk them and get a hang of their relationship. Not to mention, she didn’t know anyling right now that could get her any history on them. She didn’t even know if there was a changeling in Cincinneighti that had access to city records.

On top of that, it wasn’t clear if this stallion really knew if Masonite’s stallion friend even existed. She certainly wasn’t going to ask again and make him suspicious.

Meadow stuck around for a few more minutes, pretending to contemplate the paintings before moving on. It took slowly wandering for what was probably around fifteen minutes until she found another pony observing an artist’s paintings she was interested in. Looking at the nametag under the painting, these indeed belonged to a Silver Varnish. A unicorn stallion, she recalled the pamphlet saying. It even mentioned him being born and raised in Cincinneighti.

Exactly what Spindle was looking for. She hoped so, anyway.

Sweeping her gaze around at the line of artwork, they appeared to be slices of life from ancient Marecedonia. Some of them, she noted, even depicted war. One had a unicorn mare holding a sword to another pony’s throat with battered and bruised allies on both sides.

Meadow Breeze recoiled slightly at one painting immediately to her right. Some risqué things were allowed in the name of art, she knew, but that one was just plain lewd. She decided to observe near where her targeted mare was, which happened to be on the opposite side from that painting.

The one Meadow had chosen was a depiction of public baths in an old style column-filled building. It was definitely very detailed in every part of pony anatomy.

“The ponies in these paintings are so realistic,” Meadow Breeze spoke out her crafted words. “I wonder if he used a live model for practice. Maybe a special somepony?”

The mare next to her turned her head and regarded her. Sure enough, the oddly specific, prying question got a response of confusion and incredulity from her. “I don’t know,” she finally replied, turning back to the painting in front of her. “But I bet if you were curious enough, you could go ask him yourself. I’m sure he’d love to tell you.”

“Ask him?”

The mare hummed in affirmation. “He started showing his new paintings down at Fresh Take yesterday. I’d bet he’s there again today.”

“Huh. I suppose it’d be interesting to meet him.”

The other mare snorted, but said nothing else.

Inside Meadow was cheering. It took her over two weeks of searching the artist scene back in Hoofington before she’d gotten a solid lead on Wavy Palette. Maybe this would be her chance!

For appearance sake, she stuck around for several more minutes before heading back to the main entrance. The Fresh Take gallery was in the three galleries that Mamma Rose had given her, but she wasn’t sure where exactly it was. She decided asking was probably a good idea.

Stopping at the front desk, she waited for the stallion talking to the receptionist to finish. A short moment later, he left with a pamphlet and Meadow stepped up.

“Hello. Was there something I can help you with?” the mare behind the desk asked.

“Yes. I lost my brochures along the way here. Would you be able to tell me where the Fresh Take gallery is?”

“Absolutely!” The mare smiled happily. “I hear they got a new set of artwork yesterday. It’s actually on this same street. Head right from here and it’s about five blocks down on the other side of the road.”

“Perfect. Thank you very much.” Meadow turned and left, walking back to the oddly shaped entry hall. Looking around to make sure nopony was looking, she entered the single unisex restroom and shut the door. 

A short while later, Spindle stepped out wearing a brand new, unicorn body.

Violet Mural was rather proud of her lilac coat and purple mane combinations and she thought her new light blue eyes accentuated the look of both. And her cutie mark of bold to fading cyan, magenta, and yellow rainbow strokes fit such an artsy atmosphere well.

Feeling enthused about herself and her potential new source, she left one gallery, heading for another.





The Fresh Take was much more open than The Fine Line. It was a large, rectangular room with high ceilings. In the middle there were several almost-rooms with wide archways. As she walked along the outer walls, she noticed each inner area displayed a single artist’s work, most notably for popular and well known ponies. In the corners were smaller areas with little diagonal walls opposite the corner that displayed a single, less well known artist’s contributions.

Passing one of the corner displays, she saw along the walls were framed canvases from various ponies she’d never heard of along with several ponies viewing them. Halfway to the next corner, her heart began racing as she saw the name hanging on the far wall: “Silver Varnish.”

Three ponies were in his area, two of which were admiring paintings while one stallion with a light green coat and dark cyan mane stood near the corner, facing the rest of the building.

That’s gotta be him.

Spindle stopped, turning to admire some random pony’s artwork on the wall and willed herself to calm down. He might be her next source, but it was entirely possible he already had a special somepony or even simply wasn’t interested. Regardless, there was no reason to hype herself up for disappointment.

Just be smooth and act like a normal mare. See if he’ll introduce himself when you move on to his paintings.

Slowly, Violet began making her way over, stopping to view a painting for a couple minutes before moving to the next. It wouldn’t do to head straight to him; subtlety was key here. Throughout her gradual journey to his corner, she looked over every time she moved to the next painting. She occasionally saw him politely conversing with some mare or stallion, a friendly smile always on his face.

That certainly boded well for her. Dealing with a stuck up artist was difficult, not even taking into account her true intentions. Or perhaps it worked against her and somepony already got to him first.

Finally, after what had to be over a dozen more paintings, she arrived at his corner. Stepping into the Silver Varnish section, she made a show of looking at the paintings on the far wall. She noticed his eyes on her, but was genuinely surprised to see the quality of this artwork was even greater than those featured at The Fine Line. She wasn’t only prodding for information when she’d said his ancient Marecedonian series was well done. Though this time, it seemed from her cursory glance most of his pieces on display were unrelated, minus maybe a couple here or there.

After viewing part of Silver Varnish’s stock, she grazed her eyes back across his paintings then onto him. He’d been politely not staring at her, but when she peered his way, his eyes snapped back to her.

“Hello! I’m Silver Varnish, though you probably already knew that,” he said with the same friendly smile she’d seen him use with other visitors. “Welcome to my little section of the gallery. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you.” She returned his smile and began perusing his work. She tried to see and memorize all the different subtleties he used, his shading technique, the emotions behind them. She’d passed through the first eight on the right wall and moved on to the far wall’s eight. So many of his pieces captured the happiness, despair, and even sensuality of the scenes they were in. Merely looking at one for long enough made Spindle feel like she was really there. Finally, she finished the other wall and moved to the diagonal wall.

Her heart nearly stopped and she froze.

There on the wall were two paintings of unmistakable changelings. Her jaw dropped slightly and her mouth went dry as she looked over them. On top was a painting just above eye level of a scene in Canterlot. It showed a high viewpoint, looking down at an unsuspecting mare at an outdoor cafe as three changelings flew away from the viewer at her, vicious snarls visible from the sides of their faces.

On the bottom was the same scene, but from the mare’s point of view. She had turned to the approaching changelings, her forelegs covering the edges. Through her legs, a changeling was less than a pony’s length away, taking up three quarters of the canvas with its wide open jaw baring vicious fangs.

She should have known something like this could be on display, but she never would have expected it could be so realistic, consuming… enthralling. They looked almost exactly like the real thing, except with maybe thicker tongues and longer, more fierce-looking fangs.

“Rather unsettling aren’t they?”

Spindle gasped and nearly jumped, turning to find Silver Varnish observing his paintings with her.

“I-Is that what they’re really like?” She said, trying to get her heart under control. She couldn’t help but think if this really was what happened on the day of the wedding. Were ponies this terrified? Did her queen’s army really charge at ponies like this? Did they kill anypony?

“I can’t say for certain, as I wasn’t there. Though I gathered every visual and written representation from the papers I could. I brought these two in only early this morning. Tell me, how did they make you feel?”

“Honestly, terrified,” Violet said with more sincerity than she’d like, though she felt like she’d calmed down enough to resume her act. “It feels so realistic and to see it coming directly at me, it’s quite alarming. The way you use the top painting to prepare you for the bottom painting sets the tone very well and the ferocity of the changeling on the bottom is stunning.”

“I’m glad they were able to evoke the emotions I intended. When I saw them in the papers two days ago, I was drawn into a fit of inspiration. I painted long into the night, even with the show the next morning.”

“It seemed to be worth it, if you ask me.”

“Mmm. Though despite my depictions of them, I have to wonder,” he said wistfully, “these creatures, changelings, they were unknown to us until three days ago. Where did they come from and how long have they been hiding? Are they really the predatory species the papers have made them out to be? How many more are there living amongst us in anonymity? So many questions and yet I feel we will never have our answers.”

“I… can’t really say.” Violet said, slow and quiet. “I hadn’t thought about it until you brought it up. If they were willing to perform an outright siege against Canterlot, there’s no way they can’t be at least somewhat evil.” She didn’t really believe that, but figured plenty of ponies did.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He turned to face her. “Though we ponies have done some rather unsavory things in our past. In any case, though you aren’t the first to have such a strong reaction to my paintings, you’re certainly one of the few. Do you mind if I ask your name?”

“Erm, no, of course not.” She turned to face him as well. “My name’s Violet Mural.” Spindle wasn’t quite sure at this point whether she wanted to continue this charade. He was obviously interested in changelings and while that could prove to be difficult later on, it wasn’t like other ponies couldn’t be suspicious of her either.

“So tell me, Miss Mural,” he peered at her cutie mark, “what do you find most interesting about art?”

“Oh!” This really was progressing well. It did help that stallions were often easier to romance, from a mare’s perspective. Though this meant story time and she’d only been half thinking about Violet’s backstory. Time to make something up. “Well, when I was a filly, I’d been far more interested in fashion design, but after a dozen near-disasters, I’d decided it simply wasn’t for me. It wasn’t until months after my parents gifted me a foal’s painting set that I realized my creative energies had been misplaced. Though it certainly wasn’t easy, I just loved making my creations come to life. In fact…”





“...And the viewpoint on this piece was one of the hardest to get right. Would you believe me if I told you I have three versions at home that simply didn’t come out right?”

Violet giggled. “I can only imagine! I feel like three quarters of an artist’s life is feeling unsatisfied with your work and redoing it.”

“Quite right, that!” Silver Varnish looked, up and past Violet. “Oh goodness. I can’t believe we’ve been chatting for over an hour already.”

Violet followed his gaze back behind her, seeing a large clock on the rear wall. It indeed was almost half past one in the afternoon.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Mural, but I am here for a reason. Regardless of how entertaining it’s been, I should probably focus on my work.”

“Of course! Though, again please, call me Violet,” she said for the second time in their conversation. She debated not pushing the budding relationship any further at this time, but decided she might not get another opportunity to meet him if she didn’t. “And pardon me for asking, but would you perhaps be interested in grabbing a bite to eat at some point?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin, looking up and off into the distance. “Well, I suppose since I don’t usually schedule lunches for art show days…” he put his hoof down and looked at her, smiling, “what would you think about dinner tonight?”

Oh. That was fast. Fast enough to be almost suspicious. Though she felt nothing but excitement from him, so it wasn’t impossible for him to be biting at the first mare he’d clicked with in some time. At least she hoped that’s what it was.

“That sounds wonderful! Do you have any suggestions on location?”

“Actually, I do. There’s this place just a little ways north of downtown called La Casa Spaghetti. Wonderful place and I’ve rather been craving some good Neightallian food. How does meeting there at seven sound?”

“That’s perfect!”

“Then I shall see you there.”

“Of course. I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled and waved a hoof, then put it down and moved around him. As she stepped away, she felt his gaze on her and was delighted to feel a short bit of carnal desire from him. He really was interested!

“Oh and Miss—I mean Violet,” he called right as she stepped past his last painting.

She turned back, and tilted her head. “Yes?”

“Tonight, it’ll be my treat.”

Her eyes widened slightly, though she kept them from fully expressing her surprise and excitement. She held a hoof over her mouth and giggled. “Oh, my. Are you sure, Mr. Varnish?”

“Absolutely.” Had she been a pony, she was certain his smile would have melted her.

“Then I’ll be looking forward to it even more.”
> Act I ~ Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on, honey! Last one home does cleaning for a week!”

Fine Roast panted down the dark street, trying with all his might to keep up with Sweet Leaf. Had he the breath to spare, he would have huffed in frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he could not close the gap between them. He grimaced as not only was she keeping ahead of him, she showed no signs of strain at all.

“Sweet,” he managed between breaths, “come… on. This isn’t… fair.”

“Fair?” Sweet Leaf threw her head back and laughed. “It’s a race!”

“Yes, but—” he grit his teeth and glared as she ignored him and ran faster.

Roast chased after her as she turned a wide corner. Around the bend, he was relieved to see their lone cafe straight ahead. He might not be able to get out of a week of cleaning, but at least the race would be over.

Even in the long stretch to the cafe’s front door, Roast didn’t gain a single step on her. Finally, several paces ahead of him, she passed the little decorative fencing around their outdoor seating. He pushed himself harder for the last few strides and passed onto their property, coming to a dead stop a few steps beyond the fence. He hung his head low, gasping and panting as he tried to catch his breath.

“Hey, Roast!” a familiar deep voice greeted to his left.

“Hi, Angle.” Roast looked up and waved at his friend sitting at a parasol table.

“You and Sweet Leaf havin’ a good time?”

Roast huffed. He didn’t want to make Sweet’s actions seem strange and he certainly didn’t want to run the risk of the burly stallion making good on his threat of throttling changelings. “Yeah, I guess. I gotta get inside, though.”

“Yeah, sure. You two should come by sometime. Maybe we could figure out what’s goin’ on with the both o’ you.”

“Maybe.”

Roast walked ahead and raised an eyebrow at his wife, the door propped open by her hoof.

“After you, mister Clean.” She smirked at him, bowing and gesturing exaggeratedly into the cafe.
He almost said something, but didn’t want Angle to overhear. Instead, he bit his tongue and walked into the unlit room. Sweet Leaf quickly followed and he felt her brush his tail against him as she passed.

“So, wanna go have some fun?” Her voice dripped with allure as she brushed her tail across his face.

“Sweet, I thought we were going to talk?”

“Sure, but later. I’m hungry now, so let’s go upstairs.” Tail swaying back and forth, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Roast followed, but didn’t understand. They needed to work this out and he had to fix whatever it was he screwed up.

“Honey, please!” Roast started up the stairs.

“Come on, sweet cheeks. I’m waiting,” she called in that same irritating, sultry voice.

He walked into the bedroom and locked up. In the middle of the floor, on top of a dark green cocoon, Firefly laid, undisguised.

“H-honey?” Roast stammered. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s just time.” Firefly gave him a pitiful gaze.

“W-what about working through our problems? We-we were gonna talk and figure things out and… and…”

“The hive said you need to go, so you need to go.” She shrugged and smiled sympathetically. “But don’t worry, my little Roast, I’ve got some nice changelings from the hive to help me keep our cafe running.”

“She sure does!”

Roast turned and gaped at another Fine Roast coming in through the bedroom door.

“So, come on, my love,” Firefly said, “get in.”

He turned back to her and watched in horror as she tore open the side, a sea of translucent green goo pouring out.

“But, Firefly, I… I don’t want to,” Roast pleaded into her eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Firefly hopped off the squishy mass, “this is what’s best for you.”

His double’s hoof came resting on Roast’s back. “She’s right. You’ll like it back at the hive. There’s lots of other ponies to keep you company.”

Tears filled Roast’s eyes as he gazed back and forth between Firefly and his doppelganger. He focused back on his wife’s solid, blue eyes. “B-but I want to stay here, with you! We can still work through this! It can, we can…”

“I’m sorry, Roast.” Firefly came to his side and put her arm around his neck, gently nudging him forward. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

They stepped up to the cocoon and Roast gazed down into the thick goo. The hoof on his neck urged him forward and he stepped one hoof, then another into the warm ooze. A tap at his hind legs had him set both into the small chamber. Pressure on his back and he laid down, wetting his shoulders.

He looked back at his wife, tears still clouding his eyes.

“Will—will I ever see you again?”

She simply smiled at him one last time and closed the membranous cocoon. Immediately, more fluid filled the space and he began to panic.

“Firefly, please!” He pressed his hooves against the immovable green wall, looking at her in shock as she deeply kissed the other Roast. “Firefly! Fi—lhbblb!”

The last of the air cut off and his lungs began to burn. He could only watch through tinted vision as Firefly and the new Roast walked out of the room, not once looking back.





Roast’s eyes snapped open, gasping as he lifted his head, eyes shifting around frantically. He saw the back of Sweet Leaf’s head and felt her warmth. Realizing he was in bed, he laid back on the pillow, slowly and shakily exhaling. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing, willing away the nightmare. There was no cocoon, nor a replacement or sea of changeling sludge.

Trying to focus on nothing, he gently wrapped his foreleg around his wife and shifted in closer, taking in the scent that belonged  only to his love.

That wasn’t Firefly. She loves you. She is trying to work things out and wouldn’t put you into a cocoon.

He was certain that was the truth, but…

What if the hive did tell her he had to go? Would she give in? What—what else could she do? We can’t run away or hide. We have nowhere to go. Roast squeezed his eyes tight, but quickly relaxed as he realized the same panic beginning to engulf him. No. Calm. Shhh. Calm down, Roast. It’s okay.

He kept his breathing even, cutting it off before it could escalate out of control. There simply was no other option than trusting in his wife. He had to believe she would have a plan. After all, she nearly ran away before he convinced her to stay. She had to have had an idea of where to go, right? But, would she even run?

Cutting himself off again before his thoughts circled, he leaned up and looked over at the clock on Sweet Leaf’s nightstand.

Four twenty-six. He sighed, closing his heavy eyes and lying back down. No point trying to get back to sleep for less than half an hour.

Even so, Roast doubted he’d be able to get back to sleep. Not after that… dream. No matter how much his eyelids told him to stay in bed, trying to nab a few extra minutes would be a waste of time and energy.

Sighing tiredly again, he turned over and sat up, slipping his hind legs off the bed. Might as well start the day if staying in bed would be counterproductive. Switching his four-fifty alarm off, he softly stepped out on all fours and quietly walked around the bed to Sweet Leaf’s clock. Squinting and fumbling in the dark for a moment, he finally found and hit the switch to turn on her five o’ clock alarm. He looked at her barely-illuminated sleeping face and gave an uncertain, half smile.

Continuing on, he tiphoofed out of the bedroom and turned around. Slowly closing the door, he took one last look at the form of his wife before the door silently tapped shut. Turning and walking through the hall to the kitchen, he hoped she was having a more restful slumber than he had.

Roast flicked on the kitchen light and headed for the espresso machine. Rarely did he drink coffee in the morning, but he knew today would need it. Pulling out and prepping the machine’s portafilter, he popped open a jar of premium Jamarecan coffee he’d ground a couple days ago. As he scooped and tamped it into the basket, he lamented as espresso should be made with fresh grounds, but shrugged as he pushed the portafilter back into place. Grinding would be too loud and he wanted to let Sweet Leaf sleep for as long as she could.

He filled the machine with enough water for two drinks and placed an espresso cup under the spout. Turning on the machine, he stared with half lidded eyes as it began its low hiss, heating up water. As it began pumping espresso into the cup, he began counting, keeping track of the brew’s darkness.

...Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, and done.

Shutting the valve off, he let the excess water drip out of the drain and grabbed his double espresso, savoring the smell directly from the small cup. He blew on the hot liquid for a short moment, then downed the entire shot, humming at the deep flavor of the shot.

Grabbing the portafilter again, he cleaned it and the cup out. Tamping more grounds into the portafilter, he reassembled and prepped the espresso machine. As he was setting a larger cup under the spout for Sweet Leaf’s morning Equestriano, he paused for a moment, furrowing his brow.

I wonder… Did Firefly get addicted to coffee before or after she met me? he chuckled at the sudden thought, imagining hyped up changelings bouncing off walls back in her hive.

Puffing in amusement, his smile slowly faded as the dream invaded his imagination. Shaking his head of the thought before his imagination could add him in a cocoon, he looked around the kitchen for something to do. Spotting the fridge, he considered grilling up an egg, but he wasn’t quite hungry yet. The paper wouldn’t be arriving for probably another thirty minutes, so that was out too.

Pursing his lips, he let out a long grunt. Still with over fifteen minutes to go before he normally got up and with nothing else to do, he figured he might as well get an early start on the day. Plus, it meant he could focus on something other than his dream and lack of sleep.

He walked back through the hallway and down the stairwell into the cafe’s kitchen. He turned on the lights and washed then dried his hooves. Pulling out the bagel former, he began gathering all the different doughs he’d pre-made a couple nights ago while Sweet was away.





“Honey? How long have you been up?”

The familiar, groggy voice of his wife broke his focus on the bagel machine. He looked behind him and saw the bed-headed form of his wife.

“Good morning,” he said, his own voice far more awake than hers. “I woke up a little before my alarm and decided to get started on baking.”

“Roast,” she took a deep, tired breath. “It’s five thirty. Why’d you turn off my alarm?”

“I didn’t turn it off, I turned it… oh.” Normally she let his alarm wake her up. He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, did you set your alarm?”

“Yes. I wanted to make sure I had enough alarms in case I, well, didn’t sleep well.” She slowly blinked her tired eyes and huffed. “Sorry. Guess I should have told you.”

“No, it’s fine. I should have made sure I was switching it on, not off.”

“Communication’s hard, huh?” She chuckled sleepily. “I’m gonna go get some coffee and make breakfast. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“Yeah, okay.” He faced back towards the bagel machine, turned it off, then set the remaining unformed dough on the counter. By the time he turned back around, Sweet Leaf was already near the top of the stairs. He started to follow, but something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, near the kitchen entrance. Turning his head, he saw the lost and found tray had a new member.

Walking over to examine it, he raised an eyebrow at the thing. The Equestrian Enquirer. He almost rolled his eyes at the notorious gossip magazine, but halfway down the cover caught his gaze.


Changelings: What Princess Celestia DOESN’T Want You to Know! (pg. 7)


“Really?” he murmured. He knew he shouldn’t, but it would be helpful to know what inane stories his customers would be talking about.

Flimsy justification in hoof, he sighed with resignation and pulled it out of the tray, flipping to page seven.

Half of the first page was a drawing of a normal house’s kitchen with an anything-but-normal changeling facing the viewer. It had shining red eyes, wide open mouth, snake-like tongue, and green venom dripping from its fangs. He pursed his lips at the drawing. No doubt such a start to the article boded well for Roast’s sanity. Deciding he’d mentally criticized it enough, he began reading.

“What ponies here at EE have dubbed The Invasion of Year 1002, came as a shock to us all. The idea that Princess Celestia would let such a disastrous event fall upon her ponies, our beloved citizens, is nothing short of a national tragedy. We wanted to find out the truth behind this and what we discovered shocked us to our cores.”

Roast squinted at the article. Accusing Princess Celestia was a bold move, and did they leave Princess Luna out on purpose?

Regardless of the integrity of the writers, he continued.

“We were able to land us an interview with political-and-interspecies relations expert, Critical Ideology. When we contacted him, he was more than willing to give us the real details of what happened only a few days ago.

“Equestrian Enquirer: Critical, thank you for taking time to meet with us.

“Critical Ideology: Glad to be here.

“EE: The Equestrian citizens and likely the entire world are wondering what happened. You were there the day of The Invasion, would you be able to shine some light upon what led to such a catastrophe?

“CI: Absolutely. You see, immediately after the creatures were flung from Canterlot and once I’d taken a day to recover, I began digging. Though I only study social and political relations between species, thanks to my specialties, the crown has granted me privileges similar to that of an ambassador. During my research at the Canterlot Castle library, I uncovered a startling fact. The librarian informed me that at least one of the princesses not only had prior knowledge of these changelings, but have been working with them for the last several decades.

“EE: Oh my. That is quite the revelation. So you’re saying the princesses have been in cahoots with these beasts?

“CI: Not only in cahoots with, but in direct control of. You see, these changelings are quite aptly named. They can change into anything and everything. That stray cat you see on the street? Could be a changeling. A bird looking over your picnic? More like a changeling.

“CI: What this revealed to me was that this wedding was planned. You see, it’s my theory that the princess has been using changelings to covertly spy on the Equestrian population. But unrest formed amongst the creatures. Princess Celestia knew about this and staged a faux invasion. Now that they’ve been made our public enemies, the enslaved changelings will have no choice but to heed the fickle whims of the Equestrian crown.

“EE: That is some absolutely stunning—”

Roast slammed the magazine shut, glaring at the offending excuse for journalism. The fact that they could even think about accusing one of Equestria’s diarchy of planning the Canterlot Invasion was… unthinkable! On top of that, this “Critical Ideology,” had the gall to theorize that all changelings, which included Firefly, were nothing more than slaves.

Unless… Roast considered for a moment, but quickly realized how idiotic that was. No. Sweet—Firefly wouldn’t lie to me about that. It didn’t even make any sense. Firefly, Bobby Pin, er, Spindle, and all the other changelings in Hoofington being spies for the princess? That’s ridiculous. Not possible.

To prove his point, he grabbed the magazine and stepped away from the counter. Normally, such things would sit in wait for their owners to retrieve them, but what if someone happened to “accidentally reappropriate” it? As one of the two employees and owners of a coffee shop, it wasn’t reasonable to expect he could keep track of every valuable a customer may have left behind. Besides, who came looking for a lost magazine anyway?

Discretely peering left then right even though there was nopony else around, he casually and innocently walked over to the trash and dropped the magazine inside.

“Sorry about that bud.” Roast patted the edge of the can. “Must’ve tasted terrible.”

He snorted, hoping to never see that article again.

Realizing he still had a shower to take, he turned and headed up the stairs. At the top, he turned left into their bedroom and spotted the ruffled bedding. He paused for just a moment, wondering if Sweet Leaf’s side of the bed was still warm. Tearing his eyes from the sheets, he continued right past the bed and into the bathroom and turning on the shower’s water. As he tested the water, the desire flashed through him to go burrow into the bed, seeking the last bit of his wife’s lingering scent. 

But, of course, Roast thought and grunted, if I did that, I probably wouldn’t come back out. Probably.

Stepping into the water, he relaxed under the warm spray and began using his shower time as he normally did. That is for thinking while he cleaned. And relaxing while soaking in the warmth, of course. He squirted a dollop of shampoo into his hoof and began massaging it into his mane and tail.

He sighed as he was not looking forward to the day. Not only were he and Firefly supposed to have their talk tonight, the customers were probably going to be going on and on about changelings, changelings, changelings, just like the previous four days. Roast guessed an averted national takeover sparked quite the interest as the papers were still featuring changeling stories.

Another sigh escaped his nostrils. He rinsed his mane and wished the day would be over already so he could get some real sleep. He paused for a second as he was reminded of what Sweet Leaf said. He thought back to her words. 

In case she didn’t sleep well? Why wouldn’t she sleep well? She said she figured things out which means she knows what the problem was. Or is? Which if she knows what it is and she’s still worried, then it’s got to be something big enough for her to worry about.

This all started right around the time Wavy came and accused her of being a changeling. Sweet seemed to have placated him pretty well, so that couldn’t be...

Roast’s eyes widened. What if that’s what her meeting was about? Was there a contingency that if they were ever accused, they’d have to leave? What if the other changelings called a… a cleanup crew instead and she can’t do anything about it?

He shook his head clear of those thoughts. No, stop. You’re working yourself up again. You don’t know what’s going on and Silver Trinket didn’t know what she was talking about. Trust. Trust your wife. Trust that she is being honest and wouldn’t go against what she said. 

It felt like inner conflict was engulfing him. He did trust her, or so he forced himself to believe. Roast wished they could have their talk right now, but at the same time he dreaded it. He didn’t know what to think or do and it made him so… anxious! What was she going to do if—

STOP! Stop coming up with what ifs! He huffed angrily at himself. If all you’re going to do is mentally chase your tail, then no long shower for you today.

He quickly shampooed and rinsed his tail and coat, refusing to think about his wife or their situation or anything.

As he was about to turn off the water, he hesitated for a moment and glared up at the showerhead. Maybe he should turn the water cold. Maybe that would shock those stupid thoughts out of him.

He snorted. No, that’s silly, Roast. Just… go dry off. Also, stop talking to yourself.

Doing as he’d told himself, he turned off the shower. Grabbing a towel, he began soaking up most of the wetness. After he was merely damp, he opened the curtain and stepped out, walking to the sink. Grabbing his and Sweet Leaf’s hair drier, he turned it on and began running the hot air over himself.

Satisfied that he was almost completely dry, he opened the bathroom door. Immediately, the smell of haybacon and coffee hit him. Walking to the kitchen, he saw Sweet Leaf setting out plates and utensils on the table.

“Sweet, you didn’t have to do this.”

His wife turned around and smiled at him. “I know, but it’s been a while since I made breakfast and since you did it last week, I figured we could use a better breakfast than a slice of toast and some oatmeal.”

“Well, thank you, hun.” Roast returned her smile.

“Take a seat, the eggs are almost done,” she said, returning to the stove.

Roast tried to keep up his smile and positive feelings, but he couldn’t help the low boiling anxiety. Only five days ago his life seemed so normal. The most he had to deal with before was bad coffee salesponies and the occasional creep making a pass at his wife. Now, well, he didn’t even know what it was he had to deal with.

He merely hoped everything would turn out okay in the end.





“That’ll be nine bits, please.”

The mare fished the requested amount from her saddlebag, placing it on the counter.

Roast gathered the bits and dropped them into the register. “Thank you, ma’am. When your order is ready, we’ll call your name at the serving counter to your right.”

She nodded and left to find somewhere to sit. A mare and her colt stepped up to take her place.

“We’ll be right with you to take your order.” Picking up the two empty latte cups, he turned around and walked to the other counter, placing the cups on the left side.

“Another two for you, Sweet.”

“Okay, thank you. And Roast?”

Roast had almost turned back to the register. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

He tried to return her warm smile the best he could, but it felt hardly good enough. “I love you too, Sweet.”

As he walked back the few steps to the register, Roast wished he could have a few moments break. Already he felt exhausted and the cafe had only been open an hour and a half. He was starting to regret offering to swap positions with Sweet for the day. He was thinking taking over caring for customers would let her sort out anything she might have needed to before their talk that night.

But regardless of his own feelings or doubts or insecurities, she was still his wife and his love. She deserved the best he could give.

“Good morning, ma’am. What can I get for you?”

“Hi. My son would like an iced…”

The cafe door’s bells jingled and Roast’s eyes flicked over. In stepped three white furred guardsponies in full, brown city armor and immediately the earth pony in front locked eyes with Roast.

His heart nearly froze as they walked not to the line, but to the end of the counter.

“…take a caramel latte with—”

“I apologize, ma’am,” Roast interrupted, eyes flicking back to the guards waiting off to the side. “It looks like the city guard needs something.”

The mother looked over and gasped. “Oh, my. Of course.”

Roast turned and walked towards the armor ponies. He felt his mouth dry as he saw the sheathed swords at their sides.

“Good morning, sirs, ma’am,” Roast greeted, nodding to the two stallions and mare. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Are you Fine Roast?” The lead guard said gruffly.

Roast’s eye flicked to the other unicorn guards at his side and his breath nearly caught in his throat as he saw the hoofcuffs, and wing cages on their utility belts.

“Y-yes,” he silently cursed his stutter, “that’s me.”

“My name is Lieutenant Steel. We’re going to need to speak with you and your wife.” He peered behind Roast.

“Sure, just a moment, let me get—”

“Honey?” Sweet Leaf calmly stepped up to his side. “Is there something wrong?”

Roast could only thank the stars that she was collected, unlike him. “The, um, they—”

“We need to speak with you and your husband, ma’am.”

“Certainly,” she said with a smile while Roast felt like the world was collapsing around him. “Would you mind if we took this into the back?”

“That’s fine. Lead the way.”

Sweet Leaf stepped off, and Roast felt her tail against his side. Roast dumbly followed her through the archway to the kitchen. Okay. Okay. Calm. Stay calm. Or get calm. Let her handle this for right now, at least until you can talk without fumbling all over.

Once they’d all entered, Sweet turned around and Roast took after her example.

“Now, what can we help you with?” Sweet Leaf asked, still as infuriatingly composed as ever.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask the two of you to come with us to the guard station,” Lieutenant Steel explained, reaching back into a pouch, retrieving a folded sheet of paper, unfolding and presenting it to Sweet Leaf. “Here is a warrant signed by the Captain of the Hoofington Guard and the mayor.”

She reached with a wing and took it, reading it over.

“A source we’ve legitimized,” Lieutenant Steel continued, “made claims against you for the changeling impersonation of Sweet Leaf. We would like to inform you that we have guards at all exits and we would appreciate your cooperation.”

“I… see.” Sweet Leaf exhaled, giving the warrant back to him. “I really wish he’d left it alone. This is going to end up being a lot of needless trouble for all of us.”

“Will you come with us or—”

“Yes,” Sweet Leaf cut him off. “I have no problem coming with you, but I would like to make a couple requests first.”

Steel narrowed his eyes at her. “What are they?"

“I’m assuming you have a carriage you’ll be taking me in.”

“That’s correct.”

Sweet Leaf nodded. “Then I’d like to ask that you bring it around to the rear door.” She nodded her head behind her, at the alleyway door. “I would prefer not to be paraded around in hoofcuffs in front of my customers.”

“I see no reason why we can’t do that.” He turned to the stallion at his side. “Go tell the sergeant to bring one of the carriages around back.”

“Yes, sir.” The stallion nodded and left. 

Steel turned back to Sweet Leaf. “What was the other request?”

“We’re the only two employees of this cafe. Would you let us close up before we go with you?”

His gaze remained narrowed at her for a long moment. “I’m afraid not. My orders are to bring you to the guard station with as little delay as possible.”

“Well, how about Fine Roast staying behind then?” Sweet Leaf raised a questioning hoof.

What?! No! Roast frantically thought. I want to go with you! Don’t make me—

“You need to bring me in as soon as possible,” she continued. “You could leave some guards behind and bring him along once he’s done. Only long enough to make sure the customers know what’s going on and so we can ensure the building doesn’t burn down.” Her eyes pointedly flicked over to the hot ovens.

Steel followed her gaze, then looked back at her and Roast. “Very well. I will allow him to close the shop and follow afterwards.”

“Then I have no problem leaving with you now.”

“H-hon, I want to come with you,” Roast said, finally finding his voice.

Sweet Leaf turned to him. “It’s fine, sweetie. This is just a big misunderstanding.”

She winked the eye opposite of the guards and he immediately realized his folly.

“I know you’re not, though! You’re Sweet Leaf, my wife! You can’t be…” he trailed off.

Sweet Leaf looked Roast directly in the eyes. “Honey, It’ll be okay. Let me handle this,” she emphasized softly. “After I leave, you help the guards with whatever they need.”

He looked back at her for a short moment before he understood. Let her handle it. She said that same thing with Wavy. I think it means… it means shut up.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

“Ma’am, we’re going to need to place these on you.” He unclipped a pair of hoofcuffs and his fellow unicorn guardspony reached back, unhooking wing cages from her belt.

“Of course. Go ahead.”

Roast could only stare blankly as she sat back and held out her forehooves, the stallion clamping cuffs around them. Then she stood straight and the unicorn mare hoof placed the cages around Sweet Leaf’s wings. She snapped them shut with a flick of her hoof, locking his love’s flight away. He was terrified this would be the last sight he’d have of her. Hooves bound, feathers bunched up in those damned cages. He couldn’t imagine a life without…

He watched through teary eyes as she turned back to him.

Sweet Leaf smiled, one of the most loving smiles he’d ever seen from her. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

That one sentence almost broke him as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I… okay. I’ll see you—” He choked on the last word and trembled.

They were taking her. He wanted to rush them, punch them, protect his wife, run away with her! But he knew. The only one that would suffer would be the love of his life.

He was completely and utterly helpless.

“Please come with us, ma’am.”

Roast felt another tear drip down his face as he watched the two guards lead her out the back door, a white painted, enclosed wood carriage already waiting outside. After speaking with another guard for a moment, the lieutenant came back in and shut the door, cutting off Roast’s final view of his wife climbing into the carriage.

Lieutenant Steel walked up to Roast and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m very sorry you have to deal with this, sir. I promise you, we will do everything we can to find the truth and, if it comes to it, your wife.”

Roast could only stare at the stallion and nod. Be strong. Be strong for her. They might not find out. And… and right now she needs you to fight for her.

“Right.” Roast nodded again and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Right. I gotta close up shop.”

“Yes sir. Please do so.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, and held. Trust her. It’ll be okay.

He released the air and determinedly walked back out into the guest area, stopping at the edge of the counter.

“Excuse me everypony,” he loudly called out. Looking around the room, he watched as the conversations died down and all eyes turned towards him. “I apologize for the interruption to your morning. The guard has informed me and my wife that they need our help with an urgent matter and we will need to close the cafe. For those of you who have already paid, but not received your orders, please come up so I may refund you.”

He looked out at them for another second before turning and taking his post at the counter. Ponies began to file in and he no longer regretted swapping with Sweet Leaf. He would have gladly taken over her position until the end of time if only he could know that she’d be okay.





“That’s everything, sir,” Roast said once he’d turned off the ovens.

“Thank you, Mister Roast.” One of Lieutenant Steel’s guards nodded. “I’m really sorry this happened to your wife. Now, if you’d please come with me, the L.T. has a carriage ready to take you to the station.”

“Um, out of curiosity,” Roast began, “what is it I’m needed there for?”

“We need to question you,” Lieutenant Steel said, coming around the guest area into the kitchen. “So we can compare your answers to her knowledge of your and Sweet Leaf’s past.”

Roast’s eyes widened in surprise. “There isn’t a… a spell to tell if she’s a changeling?”

Lieutenant Steel chuckled mirthlessly and shook his head. “If there were such a thing, my job would be a hundred times easier.”

Roast fought to keep the relief and surprise out of his eyes. That changed everything. She might actually have a chance! If I could just do my part right, she could come home!

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Steel continued, “I’d like to get going so we can let my fellow guardsponies get on with their investigation.”

“Wait a second,” Roast stayed right where he was and glared at the guard. “You never said anything about investigating my cafe.”

“I… apologize,” Steel said hesitantly. “This is the first potential changeling arrest we’ve made. I honestly didn’t expect it to go so smoothly and I forgot to mention it to you or your, erm, Sweet Leaf. It’s in the warrant if you’d like to see it.”

“Yes, please.”

Lieutenant Steel retrieved the warrant again and gave it to him.

As Roast read it, he saw it did indeed state they were authorized to perform the arrest of Sweet Leaf and sweep the cafe for potential evidence. Reading further, it also said they were authorized to perform a medical examination of both him and Sweet Leaf. It still didn’t answer why they wanted to search the cafe, though.

“Alright,” Roast said, hoofing the warrant back. “What are you looking for?”

“We found—” 

“Private!” the lieutenant quickly cut off the other guard, “I’m sorry, we can’t disclose that to you. Now, I would appreciate it if you’d follow me. My guards will lock the doors once they’ve finished with the investigation.”

With nothing else left he could think to say, Roast nodded and silently followed Steel out the back door. Waiting outside was a carriage that looked exactly the same as the one that took Sweet Leaf. Roast quickly squashed his hope that she’d be inside.

Steel came up to the side and opened the door, stepping aside and gesturing for Roast to climb in.

Roast entered and sat down, looking back as Steel began to close the door.

“Wait!” Roast exclaimed and the closing door paused followed by Steel peering inside.

“Yes?”

“Are you not coming?”

Steel shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I have to help lead the investigation. Your escorts will see you into the station.”

“I… Okay.”

The door closed fully this time and a moment later, Roast felt the carriage jerk forward and start moving.

His mind began racing. Okay. Answer questions. That's what they need from me.

Desperately, he tried to remember every detail about his and Sweet Leaf’s past. Would they ask her and then request he regurgitate the same event? Or maybe the other way around? What if he remembered something wrong? What if she didn’t recall the event at all? What if the times he chose weren’t important enough for her to remember?

Roast put his head in his hooves and groaned. This feels like a test. I hate tests. I can’t even look up the answers beforehoof.

Wait. He jerked his head up out of his hooves. This isn’t only about comparing memories. The other guard had mistakenly said they found something. What was it they found and where would they have found it? 

Thinking back, Sweet Leaf had also said she wished “he” had left it alone. Who is this “he” pony? Or changeling?

A chill ran down his body and he froze. He had no idea if the city guards really were guards. His eyes snapped to the frosted windows on either side of the door.

I can’t even tell where they’re taking me! Sweet Leaf from his dream flashed into his mind. What if the dream was trying to tell me something?! I can leave still, Lieutenant Steel never locked the door. I could… but if I did…

I’ll be waiting for you.

Roast’s panic deflated as that wonderful, damned, love-filled smile entered his mind’s eye. He refused to believe the last thing she said to him was a lie. Even if these were changelings taking him away, he’d trust her.

She said she would be waiting and he would go to the ends of Equestria for her. She knew something he didn’t and, somehow, she knew it would end up okay. If it had to do with changelings, then she’d know what to do when they met again. But if it wasn’t…

Then he needed to be ready.

Now think. What do you know about Firefly? What could she have that they would be looking for? A cocoon, maybe? There’s not a lot of room for one of those in the building. Is there something smaller they could be looking for? 

His eyebrows shot up. Crystals. They could be looking for crystals. At least they’re safe under—

Roast’s mouth dropped as surprise was replaced by dread. Oh no. Oh please, Celestia no. I never took Sweet’s crystals out of my desk. They don’t need a spell to tell she’s a changeling if they… if they have proof.

His eyes squeezed tight as bile crept into his throat. He tried to focus on anything but the day’s seemingly inevitable conclusion.

After a few moments, his nausea began to wane. Soon he was left staring at the floor, swaying with the carriage’s bumps and turns.

Maybe I’m wrong. They might not find them or maybe they’re not even looking for love crystals. There could be things other changelings left behind that Firefly didn’t. Even so, she had to have a plan for this.

If she didn’t… Roast didn’t want to even entertain the idea.

Roast was jerked out of his thoughts as the carriage quickly pulled to a stop. After a long moment of silence, the sound of muffled voices outside caught his attention as they grew louder near the door. A shadow passed by one of the right windows and the door clicked open, revealing a white guard in city armor.

“Mister Roast?” The unicorn asked, peering in at him.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for coming with us. If you could step out and follow me, I’ll show you inside.”

Roast nodded and climbed down the two steps, standing on the cobblestone road. He turned and watched as the guard closed the door behind him and loudly tapped the carriage twice.

“You all are good to go!” the guard called out and the ponies at the front drew the carriage away.

As the carriage moved out of the way, Roast saw the front of the large brick guard station. He remembered the place from the only time he had to report vandalism at the cafe a couple years ago.

Today was going to be a lot different from then.

“Please follow me, sir.”

Roast merely nodded again and walked behind the guard through the station’s wooden double doors. Inside was a reception window straight ahead and a couple rows of seating on either side of the room. Only a few ponies were waiting, one with a magazine in her hoof, another magicking a coffee cup to his mouth, but all seemed listless.

The guard led Roast to the door right of the window and levitated keys out of a pouch on his belt. Unlocking the door, he opened it and gestured for Roast to enter.

Passing in behind Roast, he locked the door and continued. As they passed through, the hallway littered with offices and a couple meeting rooms. At the far end of the building they reached a perpendicular hallway. A sign on the ceiling showed the barracks, armory, and carriage depot to the right and showed medical, investigations, and holding cells to the left. Turning towards the holding cells, they passed by more offices. Roast saw straight ahead was another waiting area, this one being an open alcove at the corner of the hallway with all the chairs facing him. As they entered the open space, he noticed the hall continued left, leading to even more offices.

He wondered, not so idly, how far down the holding cells were.

“Here you are, sir. Please feel free to have some coffee, tea, or water while you wait. Somepony will be out to see you shortly.”

“Thank you.” He watched the guard leave back the way he came then turned and stepped into the waiting room. Roast peering suspiciously at the refreshments table on which was a three-quarter filled carafe in the coffee maker. He rolled his eyes at the thing’s pitch black liquid. No doubt it had been over-brewed, sitting on the hotplate for who knew how long.

Passing by the unappealing table, he took a seat at the back wall, facing the way he came and immediately grunted uncomfortably. Shifting in place, he hoped he wouldn’t have to sit on the hard wooden chairs for long. Looking about, he saw he was the only pony sitting in the dozen-and-a-half-seat room.

A guard caught his attention as she stepped out of the hallway straight ahead and looked directly at him. “Fine Roast?”

That was quick. “Yes. That’s me.”

“If you could come with me for a moment, we’d like to ask you a few quick questions.”

Roast complied, getting out of his seat and walking over to the mare. She turned and he followed her down the hall that led back to the entrance. A few offices down, they entered a small, sparse room with a simple desk on the far side and a couple of chairs on the left wall.

Sitting at the desk was another guard, a unicorn this time.

“Hello, Mister Roast,” he said, getting up from his chair and offering a hoof bump. “I’m Lieutenant Haze, one of the resident medics here.”

“Hello.” Roast bumped his hoof.

“Please, take a seat.” Lieutenant Haze gestured to the chairs on the left.

He walked over to the chairs and turned to take a seat. As he sat down, the guard that brought him backed out into the hallway and closed the door. Roast looked expectantly at the Lieutenant.

Lieutenant Haze sat down as well. “I’d like to ask a couple questions about how you’ve been feeling the past short while, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Roast nodded and thought back to the warrant. He knew it didn’t really matter if he minded or not.

“Thanks.” Haze grabbed a clipboard and pen off his desk. “So, over the last couple months, have you been experiencing any odd mental stress or strain?”

Roast hummed as he thought for a moment. He was certain this had to do with their expectation of him living with a changeling. Regardless, he was thankful he didn’t have to lie about this one. “Other than the normal stress of running a cafe, no.”

The lieutenant wrote on the clipboard then looked back up at Roast. “How about any unexpected headaches, nausea, dizziness, or lightheadedness?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Perfect.” He wrote more down, then set the clipboard and pen down. He grabbed some latex hoof coverings out of a box on his desk and put them on his forehooves before scooting his chair closer to Roast. “Now, according to the warrant, we’ll need to perform a quick physical examination.”

“Alright,” Roast conceded and let the medic do his work. It ended up being very similar to an annual physical he got at his doctor.

After a few moments, Lieutenant Haze scooted back and pulled the coverings off his hooves, grabbing the clipboard and pen and writing down notes once more. “Okay, everything looks fine to me! And that’s it for my part. I’ll need to call in somepony else for the next bit. If you’ll give me one moment.” He got up and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. Not but a few seconds later, he reentered with a female guard, closed the door, and sat back down.

“Hi, Mister Roast,” the new guard greeted. “My name’s Dawn Fire. I’m going to be doing an examination of any magical artefacts, enchantments, or spells you have on your body. Do you have anything on you that would be sensitive to a magical probing?”

“No,” Roast shook his head, now thoroughly confused with the direction of the examination. “I don’t have anything like that on me.”

“Excellent. You may feel a slight tingling sensation.”

Her horn lit and Roast's breath caught in his chest. As she said, the tingling covered his entire body and his vision became tinted orange, matching the hue of aura surrounding her horn. After a long moment, the tingling stopped, then began again, this time focused on his head. Finally, the sensation stopped and Dawn Fire regarded the medic.

“Okay, everything looks good. I sensed no odd magicks in or on his body.”

“Can I ask what you were looking for?” Roast tentatively spoke up.

Dawn turned back to him. “Of course. We received a report this morning from the Canterlot Guard. In it was a magical after-analysis of the mind control spell used on the newly wed prince. I’m happy to tell you I detected no such magic within you.”

“Huh, okay,” Roast managed. It was good to know his mind was of his own accord, though he was glad his momentary doubt of Firefly was thoroughly misplaced, at least in that aspect.

“And that’s all we needed you for.” Lieutenant Haze said, standing up. “Please come with me back to the waiting room.”

Roast got up as Dawn Fire opened the door and left the room. He followed as the lieutenant walked out, turning the opposite direction as his fellow guard. Ahead was the little waiting alcove with the unscrupulously brewed coffee. 

“Thank you for your cooperation, once again, Mister Roast.” Haze pointed a hoof into the waiting room. “Please take a seat. It may be awhile before the investigator is ready to take you back.”

“Alright.” Roast turned into the waiting room and took the same hard, uncomfortable, wooden seat as before. He let out a long sigh, leaning his head back against the wall. He wished this would be over with already. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed with his wife. With luck, maybe I’ll be able to tonight.

Looking around once again he saw there was now a single mare silently sitting on the opposite side of the room, two rows ahead of him. Other than her no other ponies present except the occasional guard walking by.

He supposed it was a good thing there was nopony else besides him there. It meant he could focus on trying to remember every significant event he could since he and Firefly met.

So, for our third date, I got Sweet spa vouchers. Next date she got me some— A yawn interrupted him and he repeatedly blinked his suddenly very heavy eyes.

Oh, wow. What happened? He was doing fine in the carriage and the medic’s office, but now the fatigue from that morning hit him and he fought to keep his eyes open. Roast shook his head. Come on, Sweet needs you. You’ve had far more sleepless nights and gotten through an entire day alone at the cafe. You can tough it out. Now come on, think.

He closed his eyes tight and focused. Okay. Right. For our third date I got her vouchers and for the fourth she got me, she got…





“...oast. Mister Roast?”

Fine Roast snorted and jerked upright as he felt something touch his foreleg. He blearily blinked and looked to his right at the stallion guard who woke him.

“Uh, hi,” Roast enunciated as clearly as his sleep-addled mind would let him.

“I apologize for the long wait. We’re ready to talk with you.”

“Oh, a-alright.” Roast shook his head, trying to remember what he was even here for. “How long have I... been here?”

“I sent you off from the cafe, oh,” the guard looked up at the clock on the waiting room’s back wall, “right about two and a half hours ago.”

Sent me off. But Lieutenant Steel sent me… Roast’s eyes snapped open fully. Sweet Leaf!

Roast jumped out of his chair. “Lieutenant Steel?”

The guard nodded. “That’s me.”

“Right. Did she, uh, did I miss anything important?” he asked, still getting his mental faculties back up and running.

Steel held up his hoof. “Woah, settle down, Mister Roast. Nothing has happened other than the investigation at your cafe. We’re still holding Sweet Leaf in a cell, awaiting interrogation. Do you need a few minutes before we head back?”

“No.” Roast shook his head. “I’m ready. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Very well, then. Please come with me.” Steel walked back out to the hallway leading to the holding cells and Roast followed. 

Full awareness swiftly came back to Roast as he followed the lieutenant, passing by a few doors before they stopped at a closed office door. Roast peered at the nameplate at the wall next to the door, reading “Lieutenant Sylvan Shade.”

Steel rapped on the door two times and opened it. Stepping into the room, he held the door open and gestured for Roast to enter.

As he walked inside, he was surprised to see not a guard in armor facing him behind the small office’s L-shaped desk, but a light brown pegasus mare in a dark grey suit and tie, her muted blue mane put up into a neat bun.

“Roast,” Steel began, “I’d like you to meet Refined Aura. She’s one of our Hoofington Guard detectives and will be performing the interrogation.”

Refined Aura stood from her chair, extending her wing across the desk and giving Roast a friendly smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mister Roast.” 

Roast hesitated for a moment and kept his eyebrow in check and unraised. The entire situation was throwing him off. Maintaining politeness, he stepped forward and reached out a hoof, touching the inside of her wing. She wrapped her feathers around his hoof and he was silently relieved that he’d read the situation right. It was an interesting feeling as her soft primaries took a surprisingly strong grip and shook his hoof. Roast wasn’t sure what to think as it was quite an unusual gesture for a pegasus to give a non-pegasus.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Aura.”

She drew her wing back to her side. “Please, call me Aura.”

“You can rest easy, Mister Roast,” Steel reassured. “Aura here is one of the best detectives Hoofington has. As we’re dealing with potentially the first changeling investigations, we pulled in the best we have.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Aura said, then pointed a wing at the two seats across from her desk. “Though, please, do take a seat.”

Roast walked over and sat down on the far seat as Steel closed the office door. As he settled in, anxiety began filling him. Things seemed to be stacking against them if the guard brought in “the best.” But… something was off about this mare.

“So, uh,” Roast began, “I saw that this office belonged to a Lieutenant Shade. I’m assuming that’s not you, Aura?”

“Oh, not at all,” she said, using her wings to shuffle papers in front of her. “I couldn’t be a guard. I’m merely borrowing this desk because Shade is off today and they wouldn’t let me conduct this on the couches in the breakroom.” She began using her wings to rearrange papers into neat piles along the right side of the desk.

Steel sighed. “Miss Aura, please don’t—”

“In fact, I don’t even have an office.” She paused all motions and looked off to her left, away from Roast. “Well, not an office to myself, that is. I share it with two guards and one other detective.”

“I… see,” Roast managed.

“Anyway!” She spun around, facing Roast and Steel. “We’re here to do an interview with you, not talk about my work situation.”

“That’s right,” Steel said. “We’re going to be asking you some questions about your background with Sweet Leaf, like I said back in the cafe. Afterwards, Miss Aura will use that information during her interrogation of Sweet Leaf. If the Sweet Leaf currently sitting in our holding cell really is a changeling, there should be some glaring gaps between your and its memories. Aura will be asking most of the questions here, whereas I’m here as an arbitrator and the investigation’s oversight officer. Though, before we get started, do you have any questions?”

“Uhh, yeah, a couple actually.” Roast shifted in his seat, which happened to be padded and much more comfortable than the wooden waiting room chairs. “Did your team find anything in the cafe?”

“I’m—” Steel started, glancing at Aura who grabbed a trophy off the shelf in her wings and was turning it all around. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to say at this time.”

“Alright.” He figured that would be the case, but it didn’t hurt to ask. “My other question is, what if I misremember something, but Sweet Leaf, assuming she is Sweet Leaf, remembers it accurately? I mean, will that affect how you handle her?”

“Memories are a funny thing, Mister Roast,” Aura piped in, setting the trophy back on the shelf, aligning it with the edge. She faced him, but didn’t quite look him in the eyes.

Aura picked up a pen and began twirling and flipping it between her primaries. “They can be all sorts of weird. Sometimes, the color or feel of something gets stored in our minds wrong. Ponies even have different variations on how they store memories.”

Do I… have something on my nose? He self-consciously glanced at Steel, but the lieutenant was paying attention to Aura. Roast purposefully sniffled and wiped his muzzle, but she still stared.

“So assuming that changeling memory works similar to ours, it’s expected that granular details won’t maintain their truthy integrity in our or their brains. The things we care about are slightly bigger in scale. That and emotion,” she emphasized, flaring her wings, but still holding the pen. “The more impactful the event, the more likely the thing will be stored with greater detail in long term memory. Or at least the details pertinent to the impact.”

Her unoccupied wing folded back at her side while her other continued playing with the pen. “Though, that shouldn’t matter much here. As far as we know, though we admittedly know very little, changelings don’t possess the ability to extract memories from their targets. There are no known spells for that, either. We do know of one instance of mind control thanks to the recently wedded royal couple, but that’s inflicting influence on the target’s mental state, not retrieving information. So, while they might be able to get a verbal account of some of the target’s memories, it’s impossible to expect that changelings could force them to convey years worth of detailed memories.”

Roast simply stared at her, not quite sure what to say. The infodump was rather… informative? Even more, he was rather put off by her lack of eye contact.

“Thank you, Aura. To circle back to your question,” Lieutenant Steel said, breaking the short moment of silence. “Unless it’s something important to the event, we’re more looking for the when, where, and how, rather than the what. We’re not interested in, say, the specific color of the walls at your favorite restaurant. And, of course, they should generally be things that only the two of you are likely to know in detail.”

“Okay, that makes sense.” Some of the tension Roast had been carrying left him. Knowing that missing the exact specifics wouldn’t doom Sweet Leaf was quite relieving. “I think that’s all the questions I had, then.”

“Perfect!” Refined Aura tossed the pen into the air, catching it with her other wing, and grabbed a clipboard laying on the desk. Pen in one wing and clipboard in the other, she looked directly into Roast’s eyes. “Let’s start easy. Tell me about something simple, something recent that she’d be sure to remember, no matter who she really is.”

“Hmm.” Roast looked off to the side as he thought. Gotta stay away from obvious stuff, like our last dinner night. But maybe… The gang did tell me I should go to the guard, and enough ponies know Bobby Pin stopped by the night before she left. “Would a few nights ago work?”

“Sure,” Aura said, eyes still locked onto his.

“Okay, so, on Monday night, one of our friends named Wavy Palette stops by…”





“...but she told me that alone wasn’t enough. Sweet Leaf also wanted a heart carved around both of them. It was late in the evening, so the next day we went to a nearby jeweler and brought them the amethyst. She was beyond herself when we got it back a couple days later. She cried and hugged me saying it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever gotten.

“For me, it was an utterly harrowing day,” Roast continued, even as Aura’s eyes remained on him for uncomfortable lengths of time, occasionally flitting back to the clipboard she was writing on. “I’d gone to pick it up, but apparently as the carver was finishing one of the letters, they slipped and cracked the amethyst in half. They were able to seal it back together, but a tiny line is visible if you hold the stone just right. The carving fee was waived and they offered me a discount on my next purchase.

“I was pretty livid, but I’d managed to calm down enough by the time I arrived home. I was so relieved when she accepted it, but I was worried she’d notice it later. She never did, or at least never brought it up.”

“Excellent,” Aura said once Roast had finished, finally taking her eyes off him and finishing her notes.

It was predictable, at this point. She’d stare at him nearly the entire time he was answering her question, then after he finished recalling one of his and Sweet Leaf’s times together, she’d focus entirely on the clipboard for a few moments. Not until he began answering another question would her eyes lock back onto his.

Roast let out a sigh and swallowed with what little he had in his dry mouth. Glancing up at the clock on the left wall, he realized they’d been at this for over forty-five minutes now. It was hard, drudging up all these memories, knowing they might be the last recollection of Sweet Leaf before they take her away.

If they take her away. Roast reminded himself.

The fatigue from earlier reared its head with the lull in questioning and his eyes still had a little weight to them, but his desire to curl up in bed with his wife was more about his wife than his bed at this point. As he waited for Aura to finish writing, he thought, once more, that he’d do anything to make sure Sweet Leaf came home. But, again, you are doing everything you can to help her.

“Alright,” Aura looked back up from her notes, “that’s your third anniversary, then your first. How about your second? Did anything noteworthy happen then?”

Looking off to the side, he thought again. It was getting harder to think as his brain began to feel a bit mushy. Second anniversary, second anniversary, that was when… he closed his eyes, trying to focus, what did I give her then? I don’t remember giving her any other gifts. Come on, think!

“Mister Roast?” Lieutenant Steel asked, touching Roast’s shoulder.

Roast opened his tightly clenched eyes, looking over at the lieutenant. He hadn’t even realized he’d squeezed them so tight. “Yes?”

“Would you like to take a break?”

Take a break. He didn’t know if he’d be able to finish this up if he took a break. He was sure he could, or so he told himself, but the what if hung there like a nasty stench.

“How much more do we have to go?” he asked, looking back and forth between Steel and Aura.

“I think,” Aura said, once again not quite looking at Roast, “all I’ll need is this one and maybe one more.”

Roast tried to swallow from his dry mouth again. “Maybe a glass of water, then? I think I’m okay to continue otherwise.”

“Sure, give me just a moment.” Steel got up and opened the door, heading out into the hallway.

It was him and Aura, then, and the mare continued to read over her notes as he sat there.

“Miss Aura? Could I ask you a question?”

“Hm?” She looked up at not quite his eyes. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry if it’s a little too personal, but why do you, well, do everything with your wings?”

“No, that’s a perfectly fine question.” She set down her clipboard and began playing with the pen between her feathers again, looking down at the desk in front of Roast. “I’m a little, mmm, odd, I guess you could say and I’m aware of it. It’s a habit I’ve had since I was a filly. Having something grasped in my feathers has always calmed me and helped me concentrate better. It’s not that I can’t use my hooves,” she brought up her forehooves and clapped them together a couple times, “more that I like the feeling I get when my vanes brush over an object, sending that feeling back to the nerves in my rachis. Normal birds don’t have nerves where we do or wings like we do, so they can’t feel or do what we can. It’s so uniquely us.”

“I see,” Roast said, watching as she flipped the pen between feathers. Odd would be right. I wonder if something happened to her when she was young. Or maybe that’s me being insensitive.

“Here you are, Mister Roast,” Steel said as he entered the room, holding out a paper coffee cup filled with water in his hoof.

“Thank you.” Roast took it and began drinking as Steel closed the door behind himself. He tipped the cup vertically, getting the last couple drops out, then set the empty cup on the desk in front of him.

“Are you okay to continue, now?” Lieutenant Steel asked.

Roast nodded. “Yes, I think I’m good.” He turned back to Aura, looking at her expectantly.

“Perfect,” Aura said, picking up the clipboard again and looked him in his eyes. “So, tell me about your second anniversary.”

Right. I still don’t remember what I got her that year. “Give me a minute. I’m trying to remember what we did then.” It didn’t help that Aura still didn’t take her eyes off him.

I remember the amethyst of our first anniversary and the trip I planned to Las Pegasus for our third, but what did I get—

If it weren’t for Aura’s critical eye, Roast would have facehooved. He was utterly disappointed in himself. You didn’t get her anything, you idiot. How could you forget something so special? You are such a terrible…

Roast snorted and looked back up at Aura. “Ah, right. I remember now. I was so focused on trying to recall all the gifts I’d gotten her, that it didn’t cross my mind that she flipped it that year. Sweet Leaf said she didn’t want me to get her anything that year and instead wanted to get me something.

“So that year, she…” His words caught as that day ran through his mind. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Sorry. That year, she was so tight lipped about it. I had no idea what to expect. I’d honestly never had a mare get me a gift like that, not Sweet Leaf, not any mare I dated before her. My mom never did it for my dad either. It was always him getting her something on their anniversary.

“On the day of our anniversary, she, uh,” he licked his dry lips. Come on, keep it together, “she uh, got me a really special gift. I knew she was saving away bits from her portion of the cafe’s revenue, but I had no idea she’d saved up that much. We went out for a wonderful dinner at our favorite restaurant at the time, Sakana Koya. We were regulars there, so they’d let her reserve a private area, just for us. She’d even paid extra to have our own personal server that night. Afterwards, we went home and I’d thought that was it.

“She told me to wait downstairs for a moment while she went to get my other gift ready. I thought that was her way of saying she was going to put on some, uh, nice music or something. When she called me up, she was sitting on the bed with a small gift basket in her lap. She gave it to me and I was dumbfounded when I opened it. Inside was three quarter kilograms of authentic kopi luwak coffee beans. A ‘normal’ sized bag of those beans costs over a thousand bits and there in the bag was twice that amount.

“When I looked back at her, she told me to open the coffee bag.” His voice began to waiver as tears began pooling in his eyes. “I opened it and inside were three of the most beautifully cut brown topaz I’d ever seen. She’d gotten them cut to match the three beans on my cutie mark. Then…” he took a deep, shaky breath, “then she pulls a box out from behind her back. She opens it and inside is a custom made coffee cup and saucer, an exact match to my cutie mark. 

“But then, she… she,” A tear broke free, trailing wetly down to his chin, “she told me that everything she got me that night, the value of all the gifts was nothing, compared to her love for me. And I didn’t… I don’t… I…”

Roast gasped as he squeezed his eyes tight, jaw trembling, tears breaking from both eyes. He shook his head and couldn’t… he couldn’t imagine it. 

Her. He needed her. He didn’t know where he’d be without her. Had no idea what to do without her, his rock, his shelter, his love. A sob tore from his throat. He tried to hold it back and be strong for her.

He couldn’t.

Cold metal grasped his shoulder. He turned and saw Steel looking at him with sad eyes and open arms. Roast nearly jerked back as Steel leaned forward and wrapped his hooves around him. He tried to convince himself he didn’t need it, that he was a tough stallion and could push through.

“You will get your wife back. I promise you.”

He couldn’t. The dam broke and a deep wail escaped him. He grasped the hard metal armor tightly and cried. It was too much. He’d almost lost her not even a week ago and now she was at the chopping block once again.

Long moments of sobs continued before Roast finally felt his tears begin to abate. His weeping turned into deep, shaky breaths and he released the lieutenant.

“I’m sorry.” Roast sat back in his seat and snorted, wiping a fetlock across his cheek.

“Don’t apologize,” Steel reproved, getting out of his chair and looking across the desk. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now. And…” he let out an annoyed sigh, “of course Sylvan wouldn’t keep tissues on his desk. I’ll be right back.” He opened the door and left.

“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

“What?” Roast looked up at Aura. Through the haze of his teary eyes, he was surprised to see a single line of wetness down the side of her face.

“Your wife means the world to you,” she repeated, huffing out her nose and wiping her cheek. “I’m one of the best this guard has and I’ve been doing it for years. I’ve seen dozens of ponies break down. Some fake, many real. I’m quirky, and I have weird ticks that others find distasteful. Just because I can’t meet your eyes if I’m not analyzing you doesn’t mean the sorrow I have to witness doesn’t bite me. If I had a pony that would cry over me like that… Like Little Steel said, I’ll do everything I can to find Sweet Leaf, even if she’s in a cell, not fifteen meters from here.”

“Thank you,” Roast whispered, sniffling as he looked back at the floor. He heard Aura pick up her pen and clipboard and silence filled the room. So desperately he hoped Sweet Leaf could fool her. If she really was the best…

“I’m so sorry.” Steel rushed into the room with a box of tissues and closed the door. “Apparently ponies in this station have an allergy to tissues. Here.”

“Thank you,” Roast said again, grabbing a few tissues from the box, wiping his face down and blowing his nose. Pile of soiled tissues in hoof, he looked around for a trash can. Not finding one, he looked forward again and noticed Aura holding up a small can with her wing. He gave her a thankful smile and nod. Standing up, he reached over the desk and dropped the tissues inside, then sat back down.

“If you’re okay with it,” Aura began, meeting Roast’s eyes for only a split second before darting away to some other part of his face, “I have only one more question.”

Roast breathed in deep. Quickly releasing it he nodded. “Okay, I’m good. Go ahead.”

“Alright.” Her eyes locked onto his for what he hoped was the last time. “There’s no nice way to put this, so I won’t beat around the bush. Can you think back on anything odd or unusual that would now make you suspect Sweet Leaf could be a changeling?”

He almost shifted in his seat. That was not the last question of the interview he’d expected. He shook his head. “No, I can’t think of anything.”

“Roast,” Aura said sternly, narrowing her eyes, “you’re lying.”

“What?” He tried to react as little as possible, desperately trying to think how to act normal, as if he’d been called out for something that was objectively false.

“You twitched in your seat, your jaw clenched, and you went still for a short moment. On top of that, right before you answered, your eyes shifted away from mine.” She sat back, eyes still on his. “You lied a few times throughout the interview. Each time you’d do a couple of those four things, especially looking away. Once was during your honeymoon, when you almost talked about your nightly activities. Another time was when you talked about your second anniversary and putting on music. Probably sex related. Those were understandable.”

She sighed and her eyes darted away to not quite his eyes again. “Roast,” she said softly, “I can’t help you find your wife if you’re not honest with me.”

“That’s not… that’s not it.” Inside, he was panicking. He got through all the questions, the breaking down, only to fail at this! “It’s not that I think she’s a changeling. It’s, she...“

“Roast,” Aura said calmly, “I’m on your side. I’m here to help you. So’s Little Steel and everyone else working on this investigation. Please, tell me what you know.”

Roast swallowed. Think of something! There has to be something you can say, something that you don’t have to lie about.

“Okay. But… it’s not that I think she’s a changeling,” because I know she’s one, “it’s that… I’m scared. I’m scared of the what if. What if she’s really my wife in there? I’m afraid to cast doubt on her, because… because I can’t lose her.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Aura gave him a reassuring smile. “If we suspect she is, we will dig and dig and dig until we reach an absolutely concrete conclusion.”

He looked down for a moment. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

“Alright.” He met her eyes again as they locked onto his. “When Wavy Palette stormed into our cafe the other day and accused her of being a changeling, I began to doubt her. What if she wasn’t who she said she was?”

“But what was it she did that made you doubt her?” Aura pressed.

Say something ambiguous. But don’t lie! “It was… with Bobby Pin.”

“What about her?”

“Earlier in the day when Wavy Palette came by to tell us his marefriend was a changeling, Bobby Pin came by the cafe. Sweet Leaf was cleaning outside at the time and... and, um,” He paused for a moment, realizing what he’d started and his stomach sank. This is the wrong story. This is proof, not ambiguity! Roast, you absolute idiot. But... I can’t not tell the rest.  “She, uh, gave Sweet Leaf the midday paper.”

“The midday paper on Monday?” Aura asked. “The paper containing the fresh news story about the changeling attack at Canterlot? That paper?”

“Yes.”

“And you saw this.”

“Yes.”

She simply looked at him for a moment. It unnerved him and his mind screamed at him to look away, but he held strong with the last thread he had.

Aura broke the silence first. “What happened next?”

“She brought the paper back in and asked me if we could talk,” he continued, feeling like every word was one step closer to Firefly’s death. “In the kitchen she showed it to me, but it was the middle of the lunch rush. We were too busy to stop and talk, so I told her we’d talk about it later that night.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. But we never did. We never talked about the attack that night. Not that night.

“Did you talk about it later?” Aura prodded again.

Roast opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, we didn’t. Wavy Palette came that night, then Bobby Pin. The rest of the night was us recovering from the ordeal and the following days we were far busier than normal. We normally work almost eighty hour weeks from prep to clean up. There wasn’t a lot of time for talking.”

He finally closed his mouth and stared back at her, tired and beaten. Come on, there were no lies there. Come on. Please. He tried to keep it from showing on his face, but was sure more than enough came through for Aura’s critical gaze.

“Interesting,” Aura said after a long moment. “There were no other times where she acted odd or out of place? Recently or further in the past?”

“No.” Roast slowly shook his head. “There’s no other time that I can think of. She’s always been the same Sweet Leaf.”

She sat back and looked back at her clipboard, writing down more notes. Another long, nerve-wracking moment later, she gazed up at him with a smile, not quite meeting his eyes once again. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

Relief flooded Roast and a tiny bit of hope remained, flickering like a flame on the last bit of candle wick. Maybe, if Sweet Leaf could handle the rest and convince her… maybe he hadn’t doomed his wife.

“Alright,” she spoke up again, “I’ll need a little bit of time before I’m ready to begin the interrogation. Lieutenant Steel, if you could, please escort Mister Roast back to the waiting room. I’m sure there’s no chance of him wanting to go home right now.” She turned to Roast. “Am I assuming right?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Good. We’ll keep you updated.”

Steel got up and opened the door. “Mister Roast, if you’d please follow me.”

Roast got up and exited into the hallway, walking behind the lieutenant even though the waiting room was right ahead. Reaching the empty alcove, he took the same back corner chair as the last two times.

“Thank you for all the information,” Steel said once Roast had seated himself. “It really helps a lot.”

“Lieutenant Steel?” Roast called before he could turn away.

“Yes?”

“Is there… any way I could watch the interrogation?”

“Usually we don’t allow civilians into the observation room without due cause. However, I’ll speak with Miss Aura about it.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Roast gave him a half smile.

Lieutenant Steel smiled and nodded back before turning and walking back down the hallway, leaving Roast to ruminate on his thoughts.





The wait was the worst part.

Roast looked up at the clock on the hallway wall again for the thousandth time. Almost an hour had passed since Steel had left him in the waiting room. He looked over two rows ahead at his current waiting companion. The other stallion had come in half an hour ago and hadn’t been seen to yet.

Though, the silent pony facing away from him did little to keep his mind from playing through scenario after scenario of what he could have done better. No matter what he thought of, there wasn’t a single thing Roast could think of that would have ended any different.

Lying was too risky and any “suspicious” actions Sweet Leaf had done recently would have been seen as exactly that. Bobby Pin giving her the newspaper? Suspicious. Sweet Leaf worried about the threat in Canterlot? Suspicious. Her interrupting him when Wavy accused her? Suspicious. There wasn’t a single thing he could think of that wouldn’t have given her away.

It made him realize how underprepared he was. He’d thought so much about what to say and what happened in their past that he barely even considered what not to say. He’d even forgotten for a moment that they weren’t friends. They were the enemy.

And that, undeniably, showed just how big of a liability Roast was. It was a danger to her, even, for him to keep being her husband. If Firefly was found out and she managed to escape, maybe… maybe it would be a good thing. Maybe ponies and changelings never were meant to fall in love. Maybe.

Roast sighed and sat back in the still uncomfortable chair. He wanted to take his mind off of all this and stop it from running in circles. Looking around the room for a distraction, his eyes trailed over the magazines not for the first time that hour. Quietly grunting, he disregarded them again. Reading was wholly unappealing at the moment and he’d already counted the twenty square ceiling tiles at least a dozen times.

The refreshments table caught his gaze next. The coffee in the carafe had gone down by only a single cup since he’d been there. Perhaps the horrendous taste of the military-grade caffeinated beverage would keep his mind off the interrogation for the moment.

He began to slide out of his seat when he spotted Lieutenant Steel enter from the right hallway and look in Roast’s direction.

“Mister Roast? If you could please come with me.”

“S-sure,” Roast shakily replied and got out of his seat, following him back down the hall.

Roast’s heart pounded in his chest. Was this it? Were they going to inform him of their findings? Did they know?

They arrived back at the open door of Aura’s impromptu office, though Roast noted that she was not present. Entering the room after Steel, he took a seat at the lieutenant’s suggestion and waited as Steel closed the door and sat behind the desk.

“Alright, Roast. I had talked it over with Miss Aura and we’d like your help in the observation room.”

“Okay.” Roast raised an eyebrow at the guard. “What is it you think I can do?”

“We’re honestly not even sure if it’ll work. Because of our limited knowledge of changeling physiology, we’re pretty much throwing things at the wall and seeing if anything sticks. We want you to come into the observation room at a critical moment and as soon as you see her, try to project your love onto her.”

He didn’t like where this was going. “Project my love? What do you mean?”

“Changelings feed off love, but we have no idea how, at what distance, or even if they can sense or feed off it through walls. When we bring you in, try to focus on how much you love Sweet Leaf. We’re hoping your efforts combined with the objects we’ll be revealing will get a reaction. If she’s a changeling that is.”

“Objects?” Roast definitely didn’t like this. “What things are you going to show her?”

“These are what we were looking for in your cafe.”

Roast watched as Steel reached down into a drawer and his heart froze as Lieutenant Steel placed an evidence bag containing a single love crystal on the desk. 

“What… is that?” Roast asked, hoping he could successfully feign ignorance in front of him.

“We’re not sure.” Steel flipped the bag over. “These were found at Wavy Palette’s house as well as at your cafe. We checked with both geologists and mages in town and none of them had seen anything like them. They give off a distinct magical aura, which suggests they could be similar to a mana crystal.”

“I see.” He supposed it was only a matter of time before they found out what they really were, though he certainly wasn’t going to help them along.

“So,” Steel put his elbows on the table, his hooves together, and leaned forward, “would you be willing to help in the observation room?”

“I suppose so.” Roast figured there was no harm in it, especially if they couldn’t verify he actually was doing as they asked. He merely had to make sure to keep all his emotions as low as possible.

“Excellent. Any questions before we head over to the interrogation rooms?” Steel asked as he picked up the evidence bag, stowing the crystal in a pouch.

“Uhm…” he paused, trying to think of anything he hadn’t already asked. They already said tiny details wouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t “pass” the interrogation because—wait, this is an interrogation. Did Sweet ever ask for an attorney? 

“Yes, I—” Roast hesitated. Would that be such a good thing to ask? No, there’s no reason to ask that. If she got one, then she did. If she didn’t, then she must have a plan.  “Er, nevermind. I asked that already,” he lied.

“Very well then. Please follow me.”

As Roast stood and walked out after Steel, his heart clenched as he wondered if he screwed up, yet again.

Should I have had an attorney? he thought on that for a short moment as Steel began locking the office. I… don’t think so. There’s no bail to negotiate, no sentence to lessen. And what would they have guided me on? Which evidence of Firefly being a changeling I should or shouldn’t say? No, it would have only looked like I had something to hide.

Steel finished locking the door and turned to Roast. “This way and please keep your voice low when we enter the cell hall.” He led him further down the hallway and near the end of the hall on the right was a barred steel door. The lieutenant pulled keys from a belt pouch and unlocked the door, ushering Roast in, then entering and locking the door behind him. A short walk straight down and there on the right wall were four heavy-looking steel doors. Lieutenant Steel walked up to the second door labeled Observation Room 1.

“Okay,” Steel said quietly, “it should only be a few minutes. I’ll let them know we’re here.” Steel unlocked and opened the door, stepped inside.

Briefly glancing inside the dark room, Roast saw one guard sitting in front of the window while another sat at a table, writing on a large notepad, with a graphing printer next to her. His heart leaped as he heard the faint, distant voice of his wife for a short moment before the door closed, cutting him off. Instantly bile crept up his throat and he knew this was a mistake. If things didn’t go well, this would be the very last time he saw his wife as Sweet Leaf.

He looked up and down the hall, but there was no restroom to throw up in. Breathing deep, he swallowed thickly, trying to prepare himself for the worst.

A short moment later, the door opened and Steel stepped back out, quietly closing the door. “Almost there. They’ll let us know when Aura’s about to present the items.”

Nodding, Roast sat himself against the opposite wall, his heart thumping away in his chest. Neither he nor the lieutenant said anything. Finally, after a few more minutes, the door opened again, the guard inside nodding at Steel. Roast looked over as Steel stood and nodded his head at the room. He breathed deep and got up, the room’s darkness swallowing him. 

As Roast looked through the one-way mirror, he tried to think of nothing, tried to feel nothing, tried so desperately to not screw up once again.

He failed.

Anger filled him as his wife sat there, wings bound and hooves chained to the steel table. A band ran around her chest with a wire leading to the observation room wall. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved nothing less than the world and here they were, trying to take everything from her.

In that moment, hate filled his heart and it refused to be tempered.

“Did you feel that?” he heard Aura say as she glanced and nodded at the glass between them. “They just brought Fine Roast in. I want him to see this, to see what’s hiding behind that face.”

He watched as she reached her wings into her case and pulled out a small, familiar-looking box, similar to one they kept… Roast’s eyes widened. That is one of our present boxes! What are they doing with it here?

Aura set it in her lap, out of Sweet Leaf’s view and pulled off the lid, putting it on the floor. From the box, she pulled out a large evidence bag and tossed it onto the table, a dulled clatter resounding in the room. She set the present box aside and spoke, “You know what these are, don’t you?”

“No. I’m afraid I don’t.”

Roast looked over as the pony scribing leaned into a microphone. “Her heart rate spiked right when you set it down.”

Looking back, he saw an earpiece in Aura’s ear, then flicked over to the band on Sweet Leaf’s chest. It’s a heart rate monitor!

“Are you sure, changeling? Because your acting has been superb, but your heart betrays you.”

Roast stared blankly at Sweet Leaf, his anger fizzling out alongside his last flickering flame of hope. Her lips moved, but he heard no words. 

They’re taking her. They’re taking her. She’s gone, they’re taking—

His eyes grew wide. He frantically looked along the floor and locked onto a trash can.

He dashed forward and threw up.
> Act I ~ Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It was wonderful meeting you!” Violet Mural beamed at the stallion wearing some traditional Japonese garb she was certain was named somewhere in the pamphlet.

“Of course! You have a wonderful night, miss.” He returned her smile, then faced the next pony in line. “Hello sir! Hope you enjoyed—”

Violet scanned the crowded foyer and put on a smile as she caught Silver Varnish’s eyes near the entrance and walked over to her date. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” Varnish replied with that same charming smile he’d given her when they met.

“I am.”

“Then let us abscond.” He turned and walked a few paces towards the entrance. Opening it, he walked out and held it. “For you, milady.”

“Thank you.” Violet nodded at Silver Varnish and exited through the theater door. “Whew! That’s very refreshing.”

“You’re welcome and I agree,” Varnish said, letting go of the door and walking at Violet’s side down the theater’s stone stairs, “It’s quite wonderful, stepping from that stuffy lobby into the cool, night air.”

“The stuffiness was totally worth it though, what with getting to meet the performers.” Violet stepped off the last stair and onto the wide sidewalk. “It was such a captivating taiko performance, I couldn’t not meet them!”

“Mmm, definitely. The energy during the show was absolutely astounding.”

“Wasn’t it?” Violet grinned at him as they and the mild throng of ponies weaved around each other. “I was so surprised when that drummers’ stick broke halfway. I thought she would have had to interrupt the performance to get a new one, but wow. She didn’t spare it a single thought and simply flipped it around and kept drumming. I think she only missed maybe one or two beats.”

“The skills some ponies develop truly are amazing.”

“I wonder how long it took them to get that good,” Violet said, looking up at the night sky, the downtown evening crowd thinning to a mere few ponies.

“Well, the myth about needing five or ten thousand hours to master a craft was debunked a little while ago. Instead, the researchers said it was more dependent upon the pony themselves. Sometimes it takes decades for a pony to become an elite musician, whereas another pony might reach that status in a mere few years.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.” That particular myth had rather been quite the fact in training. It was why they pushed the trainees so hard. The instructors wanted to get as many hours of experience into each collector-to-be as they could.

I think I finished training with… fifty-four hundred hours? That sounds about right. I wonder if I’m one of the ones who would have needed more time. I suppose—

“A bit for your thoughts?” Varnish interrupted.

“Oh, uh, I was thinking about how much longer I’ll have to go before I can call myself a true artist.”

“Mis— erm, Violet,” he came to a stop, turning and catching her eyes, “I think you are a wonderful artist as it is. There are always areas we can improve upon, but you mustn’t focus on what you could be. Merely focus on what you are. Keep practicing, and time will take care of the rest.”

She looked away and forced a blush on her face. What if I don’t have that time? It’s a little late to be practicing when I need to be doing instead.

“I… suppose you’re right,” she said, looking back down the walkway. She spotted a grassy walkway a block further and thought perhaps she could work on the “doing” part right now. “Ah, Varnish, there’s a park right up ahead. Would you, perchance, like to take a stroll?”

“Ahh, well, you see,” he turned to face her directly, “I was planning on asking if you’d like to come by my apartment. I’d love to show you the piece I’ve been working on the last few days.”

Spindle hesitated. The attraction trickling from him had grown somewhat since they’d met, but so had his lust. Neither provided much sustenance at this point, but her hunger begged her to agree. Even still, she knew some ponies partook in sex after only a few dates, but those generally didn’t tend to be lasting relationships. It was still much too soon, in her opinion, and she wanted this to have the best chance at surviving. Plus, Spindle wasn’t all that interested in bedroom activities in general.

“I’d actually like to wait until it’s finished,” Violet spoke after a short moment. “Though, that does remind me that it is rather late and I’d like to see about doing some more job searching tomorrow.”

She felt the definite disappointment overcome the majority of his emotions. It seemed he was trying to get lucky tonight. Let’s find out if playing hard to get for a little longer works out.

“I see.” A hint of a frown almost made its way onto his face, but she saw it quickly disappear, replaced by his charming smile once again. “Well, in that case, I should bid you adieu.”

Violet watched as he took hold of her hoof, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. She pulled her hoof back and giggled. “Thank you for tonight, Mister Varnish. It was a most wonderful dinner and show,” she said playfully, trying to sound as noble as she could.

“A most wonderful night, indeed, Miss Mural,” he said, playing along. “Mayhap we shall see each other again soon?”

“Oh, yes, on the, uh… on the…“ She snorted and broke into giggles. “Yes, I’d love to, Varnish. How does dinner in two nights sound?” The gnawing hunger in her chest urged her to say tomorrow, but she beat it down. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager.

“Mm, I’m afraid I’m busy that night. How about the night after, Wednesday, I believe?”

She nearly grunted in regret, but masked it with a smile. “That’ll work perfectly.”

“Excellent. Then I shall look forward to our next meeting.”

“So will I.” She moved closer, spreading her foreleg and hugging him, him hoof wrapping back around her. They parted after a moment and she looked back into his eyes. “Have a good night, Varnish.”

“You as well, my dear.”

With one last parting smile, she turned and walked away, heading back south into downtown. As had become the usual, she felt him watch her leave. The attraction and lust hung in the air for a moment before the distance became too great for her senses.

Now that she was alone amongst the late-night strangers, the frown she’d been holding back the entire night fell onto her face. She’d been able to keep herself from grimacing, but now without a distraction and no one to act for, the overwhelming need for love came at her with its full force. Only once or twice during training could she remember the clawing, gaping, pulling, crushing in her chest being this intense.

Except, back then, it was easy to deal with. She knew it would be over after a while.

As she passed back into the downtown crowd, she tried to put at least a neutral expression on, but the edges of her lips wouldn’t stop twitching into a glower.

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. A little bit of fleeting physical affection wouldn’t be worth a lot, but maybe it could curb the hunger for a day or two. Her gait froze for a few beats. I bet if I hurried back, I could find him and take him up on the offer. She began stepping to the side to turn around.

“Oof,” Violet grunted as something ran into her from behind.

“Hey! You mind not stoppin’ in the middle of the walkway?” A mare said, walking around and giving Spindle a nasty look.

“Sorry.” Violet winced, offering a sheepish smile. “I was, uhh…” she trailed off, the mare ignoring her and continuing on her way. She quickly followed the rude stranger’s example, not wanting another encounter.

Spindle shrunk into herself and walked on. Not only did she almost ruin her chances at a decent relationship, she got distracted in the middle of a downtown sidewalk!

Come on! Get your head together! Ignore the pain, it’s only been a week. You went through worse in training. Go back to your room and wait for Wednesday.

Though, the waiting was only half the problem. What she really needed was the response from the hive. It had been four days since she’d arrived in Cincinneighti and sent off a request for help to the hive, but still nothing. It wasn’t like them to be this late and the implications of their delay settled like a rock in her stomach. She had no idea what she’d do if they didn’t get back to her.

If they didn’t, then… then she’d be truly alone.

A chill ran down her spine at the thought. If the hive never got back to her, there’s no way she’d be able to find the Cincinneighti changelings. She couldn’t go back to Hoofington; that bridge had burned a week ago. And if the hive wouldn’t respond to her here, they wouldn’t respond to her anywhere.

There was no way she could handle being alone. Not only was she not experienced enough, she had no way to support herself. Forcefully draining a pony was an option, but right now that would only make her and every other Cincinneighti changeling’s lives more difficult. Not to mention she couldn’t stand doing it.

Spindle shuddered with disgust.

She absolutely hated the feelings the ponies went through during training. The fear, helplessness, terror, anger, and despair tasted so horrible when they forced her and the other trainees to drain the captive ponies over and over.

Though, short of that, there really was nothing to do but wait for the hive to respond. She grimaced and realized that if she had to steal again to survive until her emergency package came, then… that’s what she had to do.

Draining a pony simply wasn’t an option. It was too dangerous.

If I can keep my transformations down to zero and not exert myself, I should be able to last another week. She had absolutely no desire to let her hunger get that bad, but she had nearly no say in the matter. Either the hive came through or…

She didn’t want to even entertain the thought. Instead she continued on down the street, trying not to think about the worst case scenario.





A dozen or two blocks and a few turns later, The Golden Inn finally came into view.

Nothing golden about the place anymore. Those years came and went a while ago, Spindle thought, not for the first time as she took in the sight of the poor building. Faded yellow paint chipped off the two story building, the dry swimming pool looked like it hadn’t been used in years, and the carriage lot cobblestone had more than a couple missing stones.

Regardless of the quality, it was the only motel she was able to find that allowed her to book a week at a time and pay at the end of each week.

Though, before she could settle in for the night, she needed to check with the front office. She made a beeline for the lighted office door below the half lit Vacancy sign. When she reached the door and peered through the rectangular window, she was relieved that there was actually somepony posted at the desk for once.

Opening the door, the mare at the front desk glanced up from her magazine. Violet was only a little offended at the following eye roll.

“Look, lady,” the attendant groused, “if you’re here about your mail again, I told ya two nights ago that if ya had any, I’d put it in your room.”

Spindle nearly recoiled at the deep annoyance flowing from her. “I’m sorry. The other mare this morning told me to check in with you tonight. I was only—”

“Petunia?” she spat, setting down her magazine. “She don’t know nothin’. And what, ya didn’t trust me enough that ya went and asked somepony else?”

“No, that’s not it.” Violet shook her head and held up a hoof to placate her. “The topic just happened to come up and she told me to check with you in case it came in during her shift.”

“Look,” she placed her hooves on the counter and glowered at Violet, “I told ya twice before that if ya got mail, I’d get it to ya. I don’t want to have to tell ya again. Ya got it?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” Spindle nodded her head. “Sorry. Have a good night.”

All Violet got in return was a huff and another eye roll as the mare sat back in her chair.

Turning around and exiting the front office, Spindle continued around the office and headed up the barely lit stairs. Passing by rooms, she counted.

Room 14, room 15, room 19, she raised an eyebrow in passing, aaand room 17.

The first time she’d been confused and paused at “room 19.” She’d chuckled when, on closer inspection, the missing top nail from the six became apparent.

She grimaced, thinking about how much less amusing it was after she found out what was beyond the doors. Though, as Spindle looked down at the door lock, one of the few nice things she found about the motel was the lack of keys. Using her magic, she put in her room’s combination number into the old five button lock. As she’d gotten used to, the first couple times a button got stuck, but on the third try, it unlocked.

A nicety in the ‘golden’ years. Nothing but an annoyance now.

Entering the room, she flicked on the lights and looked at the desk and bed. She sighed as, yet again, no mail. Closing the door behind her, she continued into the room and flopped down on the old and worn lounge chair, wincing as she hit a loose spring. Both it and the bed were equally as lumpy and uncomfortable. Though like the previous three nights, neither would be where she slept.

Spindle laid her head back, and flopped it to the side, gazing lethargically over at the bathroom. She wondered if she should give in and get into the tub to sleep. At least then she’d have the slight comfort of feeling like she was back in the hive, the cold metal passingly similar to their underground, rocky-cubby sleeping quarters.

With nothing better to do, she sighed and got up, walking towards her sleep hole.

Three knocks on the door made her pause and look at the room’s entrance. Who could that be? I’m not expecting… her eyes went wide and she gasped. Could it be mail?!

Hopeful, she turned and trotted to the door, opening it.

“Silver Varnish?” Violet asked, her face contorting in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Varnish scoffed. “What are you doing here?”

“This is where I’m staying,” she said, fighting the urge to shrink into herself at her embarrassing, sordid housing state. Though Spindle had no earthly idea what Varnish could even be doing at her door, she was even more confused at the… anger that dripped from him.

“Varnish, is there something you needed?”

“Mind if I come inside?” he said, nowhere near as harshly as his emotions betrayed.

“I, uh, sure?” Violet stepped back and allowed him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“So, this is where you’ve been staying,” he repeated, looking around the room.

“Yes, it is,” she said simply, deciding to let him carry the conversation since he didn’t seem to want to answer her questions.

After a moment, he turned to face her. “You know, I had been curious. Why it was that you never carried anything. Why you never had any bits. I’d been happy to pay for your meals and the theater ticket, but I think I understand now. This explains a lot.”

“Wait,” Violet pleaded, feeling his distaste and disappointment. “This isn’t what you think.”

“Oh?” He merely raised an eyebrow at her. “And what is it that I think, hm?”

“I…” she paused, not expecting him to flip it around on her. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you think it’s bad or I was being deceitful.”

“It’s hard to believe,” he said wistfully, “that I didn’t recognize the signs.”

“Signs?” Now she began to worry, his changeling paintings flashed into her mind. Though she didn’t sense any suspicion from him.

He looked directly into her eyes and scowled. “Once they realize it, I doubt you’ll find many ponies willing to entertain a gold digger.”

“Wha—Gold digger?!” Her eye twitched. This is what made their relationship crumble? Him being too prejudiced to realize it could be any number of situations that could put her here? Spindle’s jaw clenched. 

Who does he think he is, coming to my room this late at night, asking—her eyes went wide with sudden realization. “Varnish. You followed me. Just what were you planning on doing had I been somewhere more… acceptable?” she spat the last word.

He gave her an exaggerated eye roll. “Well, you needn’t worry about that anymore. We’re—”

“Excuse me?” Spindle narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to worry about what?! Tell me what you were planning on doing!”

“I was merely hoping to find your address so I could have sent you something special.”

“That is… unbelievably creepy. Do you stalk all the mares you get into relationships with?”

“Of course not!” He reeled back and held a hoof to his chest. “And I was not stalking you!”

She fumed, her jaw clenching again. I can’t believe this! The first potential source I find and he’s a complete creep!

A knock on the door shook her from her anger. The two of them looked over at the door, then back to each other. She ignored his questioning look and walked over to open the door. “Hello?”

“Miss Violet?” a frowning, rather rotund, brown earth pony asked.

“Yes? That’s me.” Spindle’s brow furrowed. Just outside and out of her view, she sensed more ponies, two of them it seemed. 

“My name is Hard Note. I’m the manager and owner of this motel. May I come in?”

“I, erm, kind of already have company.”

Stepping into the doorway, Hard Note spotted Silver Varnish and immediately burst out laughing. “Oh, my. Have you paid her yet?”

“What?!” Spindle sputtered.

“That is not what this is,” Varnish said, scowling at the chuckling manager.

“Either way,” Hard Note looked back at Violet, his snicker fading and frown returning, “we can do this with or without him here.”

“Do what?” Violet asked, “I don’t understand what this is.”

“Your choice.” Hard Note shrugged, then stared her in the eyes. “One of my maids came through today to clean your room, same as the last few days. But you know what she didn’t find? Anything at all. No saddlebags, no bits, nothing. Not even the bed had been touched.”

Spindle tried to quell the rising panic, but her pounding heart refused to listen. “Okay? Why is that a big deal?”

“I asked around, too,” Hard Note continued. “None of my employees have ever seen you leave or come in with anything.”

She opened her mouth to speak.

“That means,” he interrupted, “that you probably don’t have any bits on you. Bits that would be mine in a few days.”

“N-no,” Spindle stammered, “I have a friend, she’s sending me bits. They’re in the mail, right now!”

Hard Note laughed mirthlessly. “If I had a bit for every time I heard that, I wouldn’t be running this place.”

“What are you going to do if she can’t pay?” Silver Varnish spoke up.

“Why? Are you gonna pay for her stay?” Hard Note said, then cut Varnish off, scowling at Spindle again. “It doesn’t particularly matter, though. I’ve been in this business for a long while. This place didn’t start out like it is now, but you take what life gives you. And Miss Mural, life has given me quite a few things over the years.

“So, trust me when I say I know what a pony on the run looks like.”

Hard Note’s voice faded out, Spindle’s vision tunneling. She just got here and already everything was collapsing around her. What did I do? I maintained all my disguises, I found a source, I found a place to stay. Why can’t I get things right?

“…be wrong though.”

She forced herself to focus back on Hard Note, trying to keep her breathing under control and her emotions in check. Come on. Be like Firefly. You can handle this.

“Tell me,” the manager began again, “who’s the pony that’s sending you these bits?”

“My friend, Peppermint Spice, over in Manehattan. We were close friends a while back.”

“Interesting.” The frown still hadn’t left Hard Note’s face. He turned halfway around. “Hey, Dew.”

Spindle’s eyes were drawn to a mare peeking around the doorframe.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Give me that letter we got today.” He held his hoof out and the mare’s horn lit, a letter floating into his hoof. He turned back to Violet, looking down at the envelope. “Says here it’s to a Violet Mural. But the funny thing is, it’s from an Ivory Swirl.”

Ivory? Her eyebrows shot up and her heart began racing. But they only use that when the hive won’t respond. She took a step forward. “T-That’s her roommate. Can I have it? Please?”

He held it out to her. “It’s your mail.”

Grabbing it in her magic, she tore the side off and pulled out the letter. She flipped it open and began reading.

Dear Violet,

I’m really sorry to hear you’ve run into hard times. Unfortunately, Peppermint is out for the moment, so I’m writing in her place. We’ve also had some difficulties come up in our lives. I’m sorry to say, but neither of us have anything to give you right now and I don’t know any of her friends over there, if she has any.

Again, I’m so sorry. Maybe you could try some of your other friends from your last town?

I truly wish you the best and hope you can find someone to help you.

Your friend,

Ivory

Spindle blinked in disbelief at the letter. Had there been no pheromones on the letter, she’d have thought it was intercepted. But it was the real thing.

The hive’s not coming. What happened? Why couldn’t the courier get anything from the hive? Did the wedding really go that badly? Answers would not come, but as she lowered the letter, she saw the impatient hoof tapping of Hard Note.

Putting the letter back in the envelope, she set it aside on the nightstand. Her eyes turned back to Hard Note’s furrowed brow. “S-she said Peppermint was out and they couldn’t spare anything.”

“Is that so?” he asked, a smugness tinging his voice. “Real convincing story, that. Then it looks like we have a little dilemma on our hooves, haven’t we?”

“No!” Spindle blurted, shaking her head. “I know somepony else. I’m sure they’ll be able to help me out!”

“Then why didn’t you send them the letter in the first place?” Hard Note’s frown deepened. “See, this is the kind of thing that ponies say when they’re trying to buy time. Except they usually have nothing to purchase it with. So, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to come with me down to the guard station.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to do that,” Varnish piped up. “Only guards can make arrests.”

Spindle peered over at Varnish. She’d kind of forgotten he existed for a bit, but a tiny shred of hope fluttered at his unexpected defense.

“Look, prissy boy,” Hard Note glared at him, “if she’s a criminal, the guard will thank me. And if not, the worst I’ll get is a slap on the fetlock.” Hard Note shrugged, then craned his head back. “Hey, you two!”

Spindle’s eyebrows rose in surprise when the unicorn mare from earlier and a broad shouldered stallion peeked around the corner.

“Yeah?” the mare asked.

Hard Note turned back to Varnish, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow. “So, you gonna be an accessory to a criminal?”

“Aheh, ah. No, not at all.” Varnish waved his hooves in submission. “Please, she’s all yours.”

The shred of hope lit ablaze by his audacity, burning into flames of anger in Spindle’s heart.

“Excellent.” Hard Note backed out into the walkway looking to either side of the doorway. “Go ahead you two. We’re gonna take miss Violet on a little night trip.” He stepped out of sight.

Surprise forced Spindle back several steps, the more-hulking-than-she’d-realized earth pony stallion entered, the mare following behind. 

Spindle couldn’t go to the station. They’d torture her and make her tell them everything and the ponies would kill all the changelings and it would all be her fault!

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t! I won’t allow it! I’ll die before I let that happen!

Her anger flared even brighter, igniting into fury. Wavy Palette’s horrible timing, Varnish’s continued betrayal, Hard Note forcing her to run again. Her own ineptitude. They all swirled inside her, growing into a bonfire of rage.

The hammering of her heart faded away and she set her jaw. She took one final glance at Silver Varnish, the worthless creature having retreated into the corner. She locked eyes with him and gave him what she hoped was the most vile, hate filled look he’d ever received.

Green fire overtook her body.

The surprise on his face and sudden terror in his heart as his gaze rose to meet hers was like candy to Spindle. She would have loved to savor it and wring more from him, prove to him how accurate his paintings truly were.

But there were more pressing matters.

She faced the hulking pony, the stallion’s hooves frozen in place, staring wide eyed at the massive Bobby Pin now before him.

Spindle channeled love into her magic and picked the stallion up, throwing him aside, his body cracking the wall and falling limply to the bed. She turned her hate filled gaze to the now terrified mare, taking two steps forward and looking down at the little filly. An acrid stench filled the room and Spindle nearly jeered at the puddle forming between the unicorn’s hindlegs.

“Move.”

The mare squeaked and tried to step aside, but slipped and fell in her own mess.

A mere eye roll was all Spindle deigned to give her and stepped over the prone mare, ducking under the doorway.

She looked left and enjoyed the shocked face of Hard Note. "If I ever see you again, you’ll wish you never owned this motel.” 

Spindle faced forward and green flames flashed on her back, wings forming upon it. She hopped over the safety rail and channeled love magic into her legs. Her hooves slammed hard into the cobblestone below, leaving a wide divot in the ground.

She leaped into the air, flying up and off into the night.

Faster and faster she flew, rage fueling her. She raged at the worthless stallion she wasted her time on. She raged at the greedy owner. She raged at her own inability. 

The faux alicorn took a deep breath and screamed. She screamed at the world for being so cruel. At ponies for taking everything! At her own worthlessness!

Every bit of herself she poured into the scream until she finally had nothing left. Her yell died off and she gasped for breath, her wings slowing, refusing their continued abuse. Tears formed and were torn away as the wind whipped past her.

It was cold, she realized, and she was tired. She looked down and gasped as she realized just how high she’d gotten. Only a few lights speckled far below and she flapped to a stop. Twisting her body around, she gaped at the distant city lights far behind.

Shock at what she’d done ran through her and sheer fatigue washed over her, the adrenaline fading from her system. She panted, fighting to keep her eyes open. All at once, she realized she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

The very idea was enough to force her eyes closed. Only for a couple seconds, she reassured herself. Only a couple seconds.

Cold air flowing along her body felt so wonderful. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and it made her smile. It blew hard across her side, then back, then straight at her face. It reminded her of the artificial underground wind tunnels back in the hive.

Many times as a young nymph she’d gone into them, loving the feel of air rushing past her. Smiling, she remembered how she’d close her eyes and imagine she was outside, flying through the dark night. Months later, she’d snuck out of the hive and took to the black, starry sky.

She instantly fell in love with it. 

That night, everything was wonderful. The way the moon shone off the desert sand and how the stars twinkled above was breathtaking. The plants, the hills, the rocks, they were all simply... below.

She’d made a vow then. She promised she’d get out of the hive one day and see the world from more than just stolen picture books.

Her smile soured as her excursion’s swift end came to her, unbidden. The gust that threw her young body. She’d hit the ground a moment later, cracking her carapace and tearing a wing. The pain was overwhelming. Quietly whimpering, she forced herself to make as little noise as she could, lest a wandering pony find her. A hive patrol found her hours later.

Spindle didn’t like remembering that part.

So she didn’t.

Instead, she breathed in the cold, rushing air.

And she smiled, basking in the ever shifting wind.

Her smile slowly faded. Something was off. She wasn’t outside the hive, was she? She was in Hoofington. No, she was...

Spindle gasped and her eyes flew open. She flailed, the air rushed around her tumbling body and the ground came into and went out of view.

She pushed a wing one way and tumbled even faster. She pushed another, barely managing to slow her spin. Again and again she twisted and turned until one shove nearly brought her back into control. Another twist and she was upright.

With as much of herself as she could, she poured love magic into her wings and flared the massive appendages, flapping hard. Her teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, the pain from resisting so much force shooting through her muscles.

Flap after agonizing flap, she kept pushing magic to her wings and finally, she slowed down. The exertion tore gasps from her throat and she felt herself finally slow to a hover. She opened her eyes and looked down, the ground had finally stopped a mere half dozen meters away.

She glanced around and saw houses scattered along a street a short ways away. Turning and following the moonlit road with her eyes, a streetlamp to the side caught her eye. In its illuminating light with but a single house’s yard between her and it, a flat roofed building stood. Long shadows were cast from the roof’s raised edges and the tall sign atop it.

Safety, was all she could think.

Slowly, she flew over to it, wincing from the effort of her strained wings.

Halfway there, she gasped and faltered, her right wing nearly giving in. Quickly righting herself again, she set her jaw and groaned deep as she pushed herself harder. 

“Come on. Just a little further,” she hissed through her clenched teeth. Her eyes locked onto the ever closer roof edge. “Come on!”

Finally, she passed over the building and clipped her hind hoof on the ledge, sending her tumbling down. The roof greeted her side with a loud thud, and a pained cry wrest itself from her. She scrambled, trying to get onto her haunches, but merely managed to push herself around. Wriggling, she got a foreleg under herself and pushed, grunting from the effort.

Her head abruptly rolled as the world began to wobble beneath her. She tried to sway against the twisting, turning roof, but blackness crept into her vision and her leg gave out.

Blinking hard did nothing to clear her spinning double vision. Through the haze, she made out the big sign’s supports, barely illuminated by the streetlamp. She pushed and pawed, sliding her heavy alicorn body along the dirty rubber roofing towards the meager cover. 

Pathetic groans escaped her as her legs pressed and slipped and raked at the roof. The streetlamp soon disappeared behind the sign. A few more hard shoves and she felt the raised ledge tap against her back. Her limbs fell still and she let loose a deep grunt.

Safe. The word rang out in her dizzy, fading mind. Safe.





Blackness was everywhere and a ringing filled the void.

There was nothing else and that ringing noise made no sense. Why wasn’t anyone turning it off? They couldn’t be bothered, apparently.

Without warning, the darkness disappeared.

In its place were strangely angled wooden beams and scattered leaves along a black, speckled ground. Light shone brightly upon it all, but everything lacked color.

For a long moment, it remained that way and it soon grew confusing, then annoying. Why isn’t this pony getting up? Come on, get up! 

Nothing.

Wind picked up and blew about the leaves, rustling along the ground. Maybe they liked listening to the sound of leaves on the wind? Except they could have chosen a far better place than wherever this was.

Plus, that ringing made it entirely unenjoyable. No sign of where it was coming from, either.

Really? No one wants to watch someling look at a bunch of nothing.

Still no answers.

More seconds passed and finally the ringing started dying down. The sounds in her ears became sharper and the colors slowly returned to her sight. Finally, why wouldn’t they—

”HUAAGH!” Spindle cried out, fierce pain clawing deep in her chest and she curled in on herself. Her teeth ground together, her eyes clenched shut, whines forced their way from her throat.

The clawing turned to squeezing and she kicked her hind legs, trying desperately to get away from the agony. Squeezing turned to pulling and she choked on her whines. She kicked and pressed and clenched, but long moments passed and the pain flowed between the opposing torturous sensations.

She gasped as, finally, the torment lessened. The pain turned to a deep, empty, gaping hole in her chest and her weary, straining muscles gave out. She was left sprawled on her side, gasping for breath on the rooftop.

Relaxing her clenched eyes, Spindle slowed her breathing until it was mere deep breaths, in and out. She dared open her eyes and was greeted by the same dark, leaf covered roof with wooden beams bolted down, leading behind her. She took one final deep breath and rolled onto her belly. 

Shakily, she pushed herself up onto all fours, but fell to her haunches when the dizziness overcame her. She braced herself and waited it out, taking more shaky breaths until the world stopped spinning.

Spindle sat there for a moment longer, taking in the place around her. The midday light shone above her, casting short shadows along the roof. At the bottom of her vision, blue caught her eye. She looked down and saw the familiar light blue leg.

It all came back to her.

She covered her head in her forelegs and whined. The play, Silver Varnish’s betrayal, the motel owner, her rage.

A gasp tore itself from her and her eyelids flung open, leaving her staring wide-eyed at nothing. Dread filled her as she realized what she’d done.

Her love.

She held a leg against the deep, aching hole in her chest. The amount of love she’d thrown away the night before left her dumbfounded. Without a single thought, she’d burned through it. Her mind went blank and she couldn’t even think of how little she must have left.

Tears began forming and she shook her head, not willing to let them take her. It didn’t matter how little she had left and trying to consider how long it would last her was a fruitless effort.

Come on, get your head about you, her thoughts fell back to her training. First thing after finding safety is to ensure you have a proper disguise.

Last night left her in a Celestia-sized Bobby Pin. That had to go.

Okay, colors, think. She squinted and tried to come up with something. The color wheel came to mind, but where the colors were escaped her. Complements and triadics and analogues were words and she knew their meanings, but all the colors shifted and blended about on the wheel.

Blue’s complement is… red? No, green? After yellow is… is… I don't remember!

Huffing, she realized her meticulous methods weren’t going to work. Taking a deep breath, she risked slowly standing on all fours again. Relieved that the dizziness mostly stayed away, she loosed the air from her lungs and meandered over towards the roof’s edge.

She looked out along the sparsely populated land. A small cluster of interspersed houses surrounded the building below her, which she assumed was a store of some sort. Further out was a park with a playground and a couple more store-like buildings and beyond that was farmland as far as she could see.

Few ponies were out. It was the middle of the day and she considered herself lucky most ponies were probably busy working.

Remember, disguise. Don’t get distracted. Focus. Spindle looked around for anything that could provide her inspiration. Trees and grass and houses were all over, but those colors hardly made for good disguises.

Splashes of color caught her eye in the edge of her vision. Turning towards the rear of the store, she saw a bed of flowers in somepony’s backyard. The most prominent plant was a big bush full of yellow, orange, and red flowers. Marigolds, if I remember them right.

She shrugged. It was better than nothing.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned a winged body of orange, mane of cherry red, and beautiful yellow irises. A cutie mark of three yellow marigold flowers in a pot. She kept the idea in her head, let it solidify. Certain she had it exactly right, green flames encompassed her.

Her entire body seized and she fell down, a gargled scream boiling up from her throat. The claw within her had grown impatient and tore chunks from her heart. Hooves dug at her chest, trying desperately to rid herself of the sharp, burning agony.

Moments passed and far sooner than the last bout, the pain lessened to a dull squeezing. She relaxed the jaw she hadn’t remembered clenching and flopped her legs back to the roof. Laying there, staring at the roof’s side raised ledge, she chuckled mirthlessly. It wasn’t a matter of how much love she had.

There simply isn’t any left. Or at least so little that it barely matters.

Never had she felt or seen it happen, but she knew what came next. Her body would start tearing itself apart, everything inside her fighting to fuel themselves. Soon enough there wouldn’t be enough love to go around and her organs would start shutting down.

She sighed deeply, pushing herself upright and ignoring the aches in her limbs.

It didn’t matter then.

Finally, she’d screwed up so bad that there was no coming back from it. No love crystals, no pony to give her love, and no changelings to come to her rescue. Her body was so weak, even if she wanted to drain a pony, a shove was all it would take and she’d be flopping uselessly on the ground.

Looking herself over, a half smile made its way onto her face. She was pleased to see her transformation worked right, even her cutie mark.

Fatigue swept over her and her musings were cut short. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.

I want to sleep, but I refuse to be here when it happens. I wanna be somewhere else, somewhere nice.

Spindle shook her head and blinked her vision clear. Not yet. Not on a dirty roof. She spread her wings and crouched down before taking off. The claw suddenly tore more of her heart and she gasped. She quickly realized the world wasn’t getting further away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at the ground coming to meet her.

Flapping only slowed her and she cried out, her hooves striking the hard ground. Shocks ran up her legs and into her shoulders even as the deep pain from her chest lingered. But she clenched her jaw and pushed through it, standing straight. Even so, she stayed still for a long moment, trying to will the hurt away.

Wiping away the moisture that had formed in her eyes, she took a step, then another, then another. She stumbled and flailed her legs forward, barely managing to catch herself. Come on. You can do this. Just one hoof in front of the other. Don’t think about it.

She kept her eyes forward and staggered ahead. Stepping a hoof out onto the sidewalk next to the store, she sluggishly peered left and right. Further down the road to the right she saw the park. It had pretty flowers and a waving brick walkway. Trees that would provide wonderful shade from the high sun. She smiled and thought it seemed like a rather nice place.

Slowly, she made her way. A stallion passed her on the sidewalk and gave her an odd look. She replied with what she hoped was a friendly smile. One block later, she crossed the road and entered the park.

It really was such a beautiful place. Whoever tended the park did so with such love and care. She stopped at the flowers along the side of the walkway and held one in her hoof.

Be thankful, little one, for someone loves you very deeply. She leaned down and inhaled deeply, nuzzling the flower. Pulling back, she gave it a sad smile. I’m glad at least one of us can boast such things.

Spindle looked back up and gazed down the park. Halfway down, atop a grassy hill stood a big oak tree. It was almost picturesque and it seemed like a wonderful place to… be.

Her walk continued, the smile never leaving her face. She passed beds of flowers, pretty wooden benches, and the playground, a few foals laughing and playing. Minutes later, she turned and walked up the hill, looking up at the leaves just beginning to turn from their lustrous green as fall neared closer.

At the hill’s peak, she set her hoof on the bark of the tree. Thank you. Thank you for being here. Though… I’m sorry if you aren’t liked much after today.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and sat down, leaning against the oak. The vantage, even from the small hill, was beautiful. The sun had fully risen, shining down upon the land. Off in the distance, the tall buildings of Cincinneighti stood, its ponies no doubt bustling about.

Fatigue reared itself again and her eyes became very heavy and the tips of her hooves began to tingle. She wanted to sleep, but… she’d wait a little longer. She wanted to see as much of the world as she could, even if there wasn’t much left to see.

A strangled gasp broke through her smile and tears filled her eyes. She let the tears flow, no longer needing to hold them back. She wished for more, but life hadn’t seen fit to grant it to her. Morbidly, she wondered if she was going to be the first changeling to die of starvation in the middle of pony society. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she watched foals run and swing and chase each other in the playground while some adults sat off to the side.

Spindle’s face fell as she realized her selfishness.

The playground was right there. The foals would be able to see when she… left. Ponies may have been her enemy, but she never wished harm to anyone’s young. She leaned forward, but her legs refused to carry her again. She laid her head back against the tree and snorted, closing her eyes.

Even at the end, you couldn’t get things right.

She grunted, grimacing, the pain in her chest tore at her even more.

But graciously, the pangs began to fade and she watched as the gentle wind blew the grass and trees about. Pegasi flew, going off to do whatever the day held for them.

Her tears had dried up, she noticed. That was okay. She closed her eyes again and leaned back against the tree. Tears weren’t needed anymore.

Everything would be okay.

Relaxation flowed through her body. Her breathing slowed and she made herself grow still, trying to welcome sleep.

“Hey, miss? Are, uhm, are you okay?”

Spindle opened her eyes and blurry shapes filled her vision. A moment later, the haze grew clear and a little to her right, a cute little unicorn filly stood. The girl had pink fur and a cute amethyst mane done up in a ponytail. The poor thing didn’t even have her cutie mark yet.

“Miss?” The filly looked up at her with some of the most beautiful baby blue eyes Spindle had ever seen.

Ah, right. She asked a question. “Y—” The word caught in Spindle’s dry mouth. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yes, sweetie. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, it’s just,” the filly began, looking down and kicking a hoof at the ground, “I saw you were crying and my momma says that it’s okay to cry. But after we’re done, we should be strong and put on a big smile, ‘cause it won’t be bad forever.”

The concern and kindness pouring from the filly was delicious and she ate up every bit of it. Spindle couldn’t help but giggle. “Your mommy must be a very smart lady.”

“Uh huh!” She frantically nodded her head, a big grin on her face. “She’s the smartest pony in the whole world!”

Her baby blue eyes were filled with such mirth and youthful energy, Spindle couldn’t help being a little jealous.

“Ruby, dear!” an amber colored pegasus mare called, walking up from behind the filly. “Who are you talking to?”

The filly apparently named Ruby spun around, her smile still every bit as strong. “Hi mommy! I’m talking to… uhh,” she turned back around, sheepishly looking up at Spindle, “what was your name, miss?”

Spindle couldn’t help but laugh, as weak as it was. The innocence of foals was something to be treasured. “My name’s Marigold.”

Ruby turned back to her mother as she arrived at the filly’s side. “I was telling Miss Marigold that she should try smiling because she was crying.”

The mare stopped next to her daughter and sighed, but offered her filly a kind smile. “Sweetheart, you need to be careful what you say. It can hurt other pony’s feelings to talk about them like that.”

“Oh.” Ruby’s smile instantly dropped off her face and she sat down, looking away.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t know. I’ll explain it to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Ruby mumbled.

The mare looked back at Spindle. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” Spindle put on a friendly smile, though it seemed tired, even to her. She looked at Ruby. “My feelings weren’t hurt at all. Okay Ruby?”

“Are you sure?” the filly asked, a sad look on her face.

“Absolutely, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Ruby. And this is your mommy?” She glanced up at the filly’s mother.

Ruby jumped to her hooves, instantly brightening up. “Yeah! Miss Marigold, this is my mommy.”

The mother chuckled at the filly. “That’s right,” she said, then looked to Spindle. “My name’s Bright Resin and this here is Ruby Sunrise.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Spindle returned her smile, “and your filly is very kind and thoughtful.”

“Thank you.” Bright Resin wrapped a hoof around her daughter and planted a kiss on her head. “I’m always ever so proud of my little Sunrise.”

“Mooom!” Ruby protested and struggled, falling out of her mother’s grip.

Spindle appreciated the kindness that flowed from both of them. It was refreshing, though it would do little in the end.

“Say,” Bright Resin spoke up, “Ruby and I were about to head home for some lunch and you look like you could use a nice meal. Would you like to join us?”

It was true, she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, but there didn’t seem to be much point. “No, that’s okay, I was about to leave soon anyway.”

“Please, I insist. I would love to have you over for lunch.”

Spindle merely looked at her for a moment. The concern still trickling from the mare said she wasn’t suspicious. Plus, there’s no way a mother like her would do anything to put her daughter in danger.

“Alright, sure,” Spindle acquiesced.

“Perfect!” Bright Resin sat back and clapped her hooves. She then turned to her daughter “Sweetie, we’re going to have Miss Marigold over for lunch. Would you like to go have lunch now?”

“Yeah! I’m hungry!” Ruby said, bouncing up and down.

“Well, that settles it.” Bright Resin smiled back at Spindle. “Are you ready to go?”

“Hm.” Their bits of concern and kindness had given her a little energy back. She wasn’t sure how long it would last her, but she felt like a walk wouldn’t be too much trouble. “Yes, I think I’m good.”

Leaning forward, Spindle put her forelegs on the ground and pushed off with her hinds. She wobbled only a little before she found her balance. Smiling, she looked over at the mother. “Ready to go, Miss Resin.”

She batted a hoof at Spindle. “Oh, please. I’m not that old. Call me Bright.”

“Sure, Miss Bright.”

“Just Bright.” She gave Spindle a look before softening. “Now then, let’s go. Our house is only a couple of blocks away.”

Spindle followed as Bright turned and walked down the hill. The gaping hole in her chest seemed to be satisfied for the moment. It was by no means gone and it still seemed larger and emptier than she’d ever felt it before, but the claw was no longer rending her heart apart.

“So, tell me, Miss Marigold,” Bright spoke up, the three reaching the park’s main path, “what brings you to the farming commune of Cincinneighti? We don’t get a lot of visitors out here.”

“Honestly, I was just passing through,” Spindle began, glancing at the flower she’d greeted on the way in. “I’d stopped at Cincinneighti for a few nights before deciding it wasn’t for me.”

“I see.” She slowed down and took stride at Spindle’s side. They watched Ruby run through the park’s grass ahead of them. “Don’t run off too far, Ruby!”

“Okay, Mommy!” She called back.

“You know,” Bright said, glancing at Spindle, “There’s not much beyond here except farmland and grassy hills. You won’t find much but little communities before you hit the mountains to Manehatten.”

“I, uh,” Spindle wasn’t planning on having to defend herself on this little trek, “I wanted to see some of nature before I left.”

“Ah. And where were you heading to next?”

“I’m… not really sure. I hadn’t figured that out yet.” She hoped that would be enough for Bright. Her mind wasn’t in the best place and she didn’t have the energy to come up with a story.

“Right. Well, wherever you go, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Silence filled the space between them and they turned onto the main road’s sidewalk. Bright called Ruby over to join them, but it only registered in passing.

There wasn’t really anywhere to go. No place came to mind where she would be safe, certainly not one she could make it to. With no bits and no love, there were few options. None of them ended happily.

“Miss Marigold?” Ruby asked, breaking Spindle from her thoughts.

“Yes, Ruby?” She looked to the filly between her and the filly’s mother.

“Why is your fur so dirty?”

“Ruby,” Bright Resin gently admonished, “Do you remember when we talked about being sensitive to other ponies?”

“Yes…” Ruby shrunk into herself, looking at her mother morosely.

“That wasn’t a very sensitive thing to say.”

“Oh,” Ruby said simply, the word hanging between them.

“Ruby…” her mother trailed off.

“Oh, uh,” the filly looked back at Spindle. “I’m sorry, Miss Marigold.”

“It’s okay.” Spindle offered her a smile.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Bright smiled down at Ruby as well. “You did a good job.”

Silence reigned for only a few more seconds. “Mommy? What are we having for lunch?”

“Hmm, do you have any preferences, Marigold?”

“Not really,” Spindle replied. “Anything is fine.”

“Alright. How about some nice Daffodil sandwiches? I think I have some leftover bean soup, too. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah! Mommy’s bean soup is the best!” Ruby beamed up at Spindle.

“I bet it is.”

“And what do you know, this is us!” Bright held a hoof down a walkway leading to a small home.

It was a little old, but by no means uncared for. “It’s a lovely home, Bright.”

“Thank you,” she said, leading them along the stone walkway between two long beds of flowers. “A lot of work has gone into this home and I’m very proud of what we’ve managed to do with it.”

Bright Resin reached the front door and opened it, entering and holding it. Ruby excitedly ran through and Spindle followed after. 

Inside was well decorated and Spindle admired the very cozy, open living room. A couch and a loveseat sat next to a pretty fireplace on the far wall while toys laid scattered between them. A wide window with beautiful drapes sat on the front wall and two large pictures hung opposite of it.

“This way to the kitchen,” Bright called, heading straight down the hallway beyond the front door.

Spindle followed and peered at the pictures in the hall. Many had both Bright and Ruby in them, but a couple had Bright with a stallion as well. A husband, perhaps? Could I maybe replace one of them? I know nothing about them, but if I could fool them for even a few days, it might be enough for me to move on.

“Alright! Feel free to have a seat. Daffodil sandwiches and soup coming right up!” Bright said brightly.

Spindle walked to the left side of the eat-in kitchen and sat down on the far side of the table, next to the back door. 

“Hey! That’s where mommy always sits.”

“It’s okay, she can sit there,” Bright interjected, then turned to her daughter. “Ruby, sweetie?”

Ruby paused her climb into the seat next to Spindle and looked back at her mother. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could go play in your room for a little bit?”

“Why?” Ruby asked, turning around and tilting her head at her mother.

“I’d like to have a little grown up talk with Miss Marigold. I’ll call you when lunch is ready, okay?”

Ruby gave a little disappointed groan. “Okay.” She turned and headed for the hallway.

“Please close your door too, sweetie!”

“Okay!” A few seconds later came the sound of a door shutting.

Bright Resin turned to Spindle, giving her an appraising look. “You know, Ruby’s not the only one who noticed. I’m sorry for saying it, but you really do look like a mess.”

Spindle had no idea what to even say to that. “Yeah. I know,” she sighed. If she couldn’t even think up a halfway decent story about how her fur got the way it was, what hope did she have in replacing Bright?

“You don’t have any friends nearby, do you? I doubt you’d be here if you did.”

Marigold looked down at the table and shook her head. “No. I, um, I lost my job in another city and the relationship with my coltfriend was already in a bad way. We broke up soon after. Eventually I left and came here to Cincinneighti, but I’d already lost everything.”

She looked up as Bright Resin came towards her and smiled, the mare putting a hoof on her shoulder.

Looking back at the table, Marigold continued. “I lost my saddlebags a few days ago, along with the last few bits I had.” She chuckled and tears began filling her eyes. “Couldn’t pay, so I got kicked out of my motel, too. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, so I just… went.”

Spindle didn’t know why she was telling her all this. It was almost exactly what happened, minus a few small details. Lies mixed with truth were good, but too much truth led to bad things.

“I know what that’s like, to be at the bottom,” Bright said.

Spindle’s eyes were drawn back up to the other mare.

Bright continued. “I was there once, several years ago. Back then, before it all happened, I was a bit of a floozy. All I wanted was to have fun and party. Dance clubs and bars were my kind of place and I’d be there every night. Not long after, I ran out of money, so I took out a loan, figuring I could cut back on the partying and pay it back with my meager waitress wages.

“Well, a month later and I need another loan. Soon after, the restaurant got tired of my terrible work ethic and booted me. Of course, my coltfriend at the time got upset and I broke up with him after a fight. I hadn’t really thought it through, so when it dawned on me that it was his place, I bawled and tried to get him to take me back, but the damage was done and out I went.”

Bright looked into Spindle’s eyes and smiled sadly. “I had nothing, but even worse, I found out I was pregnant a couple weeks later. I knew it was dangerous to do it during estrus, but all I could think about was fun, fun, fun.”

She snorted. “Life became a lot less fun after that and I wandered the streets of Cincinneighti for a few months until one day, some stranger told me they could help. It wasn’t about just me anymore, so I grabbed onto that rope with all I had and with the help of a group of ponies, I clawed my way out.

“It wasn’t easy, starting over. In fact, it was downright grueling,” she put a hoof on Spindle’s, “but it is possible. Marigold, I’d like to offer you that same chance. I know ponies that can help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Spindle’s eyes darted back and forth between both of Bright Resin’s, searching for some hidden truth. 

But she found none. She looked away, back down to her hooves in her lap.

The sheer exhaustion from earlier was starting to return. It didn’t matter how many ponies there were to help. Even if there was a pony out there, willing to give the love she so desperately needed, it would come far too late.

She was… she was going to… but she didn’t want to. She wanted to live!

A choked sob broke out of her throat. It didn’t matter! None of it mattered! She cursed the stupid, worthless tears running down her cheek.

“Oh, sweetie.”

Bright wrapped Spindle in a tight hug and the dam broke. Strained wimpers grew into a bawl and she couldn’t hold it back.

“Oh, honey.” Bright Resin held her, rocking Spindle’s shaking body back and forth. “It’ll be okay. Shh, it’ll be okay.”

Through the haze of her emotions, she felt it.

That deep pool of compassion and kindness. It opened itself to her and Spindle drank. She drank and drank and it wasn’t enough. Her cries died down and her mind went blank except for one word.

More.

Dimly, she felt a tight squeeze and then nothing. Unknown words came from something at her side. Her body slowly turned and there, in front of her, was a creature, the source of her nectar. 

Abruptly, the nectar disappeared.

She did not appreciate that.

“More,” a voice said.

The creature in front of her uttered some noises and took a step back. The pool was back and she drew deeply from it. Her face twisted and she spat at the vile taste.

“No! Give me more!”

A green flash filled her vision and the creature took more steps back. Unacceptable. She drew closer to it and it turned.

She pounced.

It was on its back and she was standing over it. It was thrashing and yelling, but she did not care. She darted forward and seized the thing’s neck in her fangs.

A moment later, it grew still.

She drew back from the thing and her instincts took over. Her mouth opened, her horn glowed, and she found the creature’s heart, its emotions and feelings.

And she tore.

The thing gurgled, rich sweetness flooding from it, and she drank once more. She drank and drank from its fountain. Moments passed and the flow slowed to a trickle.

So she tore again.

More came, but it was a pitiful amount.

She tore again and—

A piercing shriek filled the room.

Thoroughly annoyed, she stepped off the unmoving thing and turned. Another, smaller creature was facing her, a few strides away. 

Another creature.

Another.

Fresh.

“More…”

She pounced.

In an instant, the other creature was beneath her, pinned to the floor. It cried and struggled, but it was fruitless. She looked down, green fluid dripping from her fangs onto the thing’s tear ridden face.

It pleased her.

To see those eyes filled with fear. She wanted to savor it. For how much they hurt her. She hissed at it and licked at its neck, enjoying it as the thing pointlessly tried even harder to curl up.

Then they opened again. Those terrified eyes. Those terrified, baby blue eyes. It gave her such great pleasure to see those blue eyes… baby blue.

Beautiful baby blue eyes.

Spindle gasped and jumped off the filly.

The poor girl scampered away into the far corner, sobbing and rubbing her forelegs.

What… What did I do?

“Ruby, I…” She took a step forward.

She stopped dead when the cries turned into shrieks and the filly kicked at the floor, pushing herself harder into the wall.

Spindle backed away and hit something soft. She looked behind her and gaped. The body of Bright Resin lay there. The body she just drained.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” she blubbered, staring at the motionless body. “I didn’t. I-I couldn’t have…”

The sound of hooves on tile drew her attention. She turned, watching as Ruby jumped at the back door, fiddling with the doorknob.

Spindle reached out a hoof in her direction. “Ruby, please, wait. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

The filly did not wait and a second later, the lock clicked, the door burst open, and the filly fled.

She stared and slowly lowered her hoof. Her brain would not work, couldn’t comprehend what happened. One second she was bawling, the next… she was tearing love from Bright.

Then she’d been interrupted by the mare’s daughter. In return she nearly…

Her eyes squeezed shut, trying not to think about what would have happened to little Ruby. Foals’ minds weren’t as strong as a grown pony’s. They couldn’t handle it. When they had their love drained, they almost always died. Training had hammered it into them over and over.

No foals. Never. Their goal was to gather love, not kill. Changelings weren’t monsters.

Except I just became one.

Spindle fiercely shook her head. “No! I didn’t! I stopped and she got away. She’s fine. She… got away.”

It suddenly dawned on her. The filly got away.

She gasped. The filly got away! I have to get out of here!

“I’m sorry,” she said one last time to the unmoving mare and shot down the hallway, transforming back into Marigold. Spindle pulled open the front door and quickly looked back and forth. No sign of anypony. She ran out the door and took to the skies, flying back the way she came.

I need a new disguise! If Ruby found somepony and they see me, I’m done!

Spotting the park, she saw near the back side of it was a bunch of closely packed trees and she flew straight for it. From overhead, she saw a clearing in the middle.

She dropped directly into the clearing and landed hard on the ground. A pair of screams from behind shocked her and she flipped around.

A couple of foals stared at her, wide eyed.

“S-Sorry. I gotta, I… sorry!” Spindle turned and ran deeper into the trees. A few moments later, she reached the other end of the grove. Skidding to a stop, she looked around and behind her.

No pony in sight.

“Okay, Spindle. Think. New disguise. Right now!” She screwed her eyes shut, but nothing came to her. The stress flooded her and her mind shut down. The color wheel contained nothing. “Come on! Anything!”

Anything. Anything, even…

Green flames flowed over her again and out came Bobby Pin, once more. She flapped the wings on her back and touched her bare forehead. Good. A Pegasus. Okay, I need to go somewhere. Where do I go?

Tears of frustration filled her eyes and she stomped her hoof. I don’t know! I can’t stay here. I can’t go back to Hoofington. I can’t go anywhere! I want to go home!

She sniffled. I just want to go home.

Home.

Back to the hive. It was possible… but how could she? A collector that ran home? It would be like she was abandoning her duty, her purpose. Every collector was important, every one necessary. To turn her back on it…

But what else could she do? There were no resources. Nothing from the hive. Starting over in a new place simply wasn’t possible. Not without help.

Home. She couldn’t see another option.

So she took to the skies and went home.





Moonlit desert sand crunched under her paws. For hours, she’d been walking. First from the Dodge City train stop to the edge of the badlands. Then from the edge to the heart.

The hive was well hidden, deep in the badlands. Every changeling that left had to know how to get back, what to look for. Every one of them, no matter their caste. Before they were allowed to begin their role outside, they had it hammered into their head.

It was hammered so hard that even Spindle couldn’t forget how to find it.

And she was almost there.

She wanted to pick up speed, get her nearly three day journey over with, but she calmly walked on. The distance was made even greater by her coyote body. Coyotes weren’t but around three quarters the size of an average pony, but it was enough to make the trip noticeably longer.

Just ahead, she saw a familiar trio of rocks that marked one of the hive’s entrances.

Her canine body jumped in surprise as a shrill caw sounded directly above her. She looked up and saw a large, black raven swoop down, landing in front of her. It tilted its head and inspected her for a few moments. Spindle’s nose twitched at the pheromones filling the air and was glad she’d remembered to keep her glands in place.

“What caste are you with?” it suddenly spoke.

“I’m a collector,” Spindle said.

“Were you with the invasion army?”

She shook her head. “No. I was assigned to Hoofington, but was forced to run from the town.”

“Very well. Proceed to the throne room to see the queen.”

“W-what, the queen? But, why?”

“She requested any arriving changeling that was made to abandon their role see her as soon as possible.”

“Alright. Do you know why?”

“No. Please proceed to see her.” The patrolling changeling spread its small, raven wings and flew away.

With a deep breath she walked forward, entering the hive. A few meters in, she passed the guard coves, nodding stiffly to the disguised desert fox guards. Turning the first corner, she dropped her disguise.

Spindle fought to keep her panic under control. Never before had she met with the queen directly. Though she’d heard stories about changelings that made big enough mistakes. None of them were pleasant.

She probably wants to know why I abandoned my source and once she finds out what I did… She shuddered at the thought of what punishment she’d receive.

Through dimly lit, winding tunnels passing by and numerous fellow changelings rushing about, she arrived at the throne room’s outer hall. Two guards stood on either side of the door, covered in polished, blue armor.

She took a deep breath, and mentally steeled herself, trying to push nervousness away as best as she could. It wouldn’t do to stutter in front of the queen. Letting out the breath, she walked forward.

And their eyes snapped to her.

“What are you here for?” the guard nearest her asked.

“I’m a collector. I was told by a patrol outside that I needed to see her majesty upon arrival.”

“You were not at the wedding?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Please wait here.” He turned to the door. Knocking once, he opened it and entered, closing it behind him.

The minutes ticked by and the nervousness she’d bottled away oozed back out. She tried to keep her breaths steady and do the deep breathing trick they taught her in training. Keep it together. Queen Chrysalis is wise and just. Whatever she sees fit is what you deserve.

Finally, the door opened again and the guard stepped out, followed by a changeling without armor. The second changeling walked past Spindle without a word and the guard held the door open. “She will see you now.”

Spindle mentally cursed. In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping that maybe it was too late and she’d have to wait until the next day. She was dirty and tired and she cursed herself for not having cleaned up before seeing her.

She steeled herself again with another deep breath and walked forward through the open door. Inside it was brightly lit, several torches hung on the columns along either side of the room. A long, intricate pathway was cut in the stone, leading directly to the throne. On either side was a set of two guards and on the throne itself was Queen Chrysalis.

Desperately, Spindle ran through her neglected royal etiquette she’d never used. Until now.

Walk forward, approach the first step, bow, wait to be addressed. Walk forward, approach the first step, bow, wait to be addressed. Walk forward…

And suddenly she was at the first step. She bowed deeply, making sure not to look up until the queen said otherwise. Seconds passed and she grew nervous. Did I do something wrong?

“Rise,” Queen Chrysalis said, with much less force than Spindle had expected.

Her eyes rose with her body and she nearly gasped at the sight of her queen. Hardened, green opaque resin covered a portion of her foreleg and along her side, betraying the cracks in her carapace.

“What is your name, young one?”

“M-my name is Spindle, y-your majesty.” You idiot! I said no stuttering!

“Spindle,” the queen said slowly as if tasting the name. “One of the hive’s few collectors. Tell me, what happened that you would be standing here instead of with your fellow collectors?”

“Y-your majesty,” she swallowed, trying to get her nerves about her, “I was a Cincinnei—I mean, a Hoofington collector and I was forced from my role. M-my source discovered me because of my own stupidity a-and I ran. I didn’t know where to—”

“Spindle.”

Her queen’s voice rang out in the room and Spindle’s jaw immediately shut. She couldn’t keep the shiver out of her body, watching Chrysalis breathe deep and close her eyes for a short moment. Not a single emotion escaped from the monarch.

“Spindle,” her queen said softer, opening her eyes. “I am not here to pass judgement upon you. Right now, every single changeling is a precious resource. Hundreds of your brothers and sisters are still lost and unaccounted for. There are many things that I must be concerned with right now, and I need to know if the Hoofington changelings should be added to that ever growing list. Are they?”

“N-no, your majesty. I don’t believe so.”

“Spindle. Continually addressing me as such will get very tiring. Ma’am or simply answering will suffice after the first time. But, very well. Please answer my question. Why are you not with your fellow collectors?”

“I… had to run, your—m-ma’am. I was discovered and I left for a new town, like we were trained.”

“Perhaps I am missing something, then. When were you discovered?”

“The day after the wedding.”

“Ah. There it is.” Queen Chrysalis looked down upon her with… pity? “You must have been most unfortunate indeed to have been discovered so early. It makes me wonder if…” she sighed. “In any case, had you been there for one or two days longer, you would have received a letter sent in my stead. The letter would have instructed you to seek the help of your local collector community instead of pursuing a new city.

“For the time being, the hive has no resources to assist in relocating collectors. This includes sending new collectors out, or in your case, sending you back to Hoofington.”

Spindle bowed her head. “Yes, my queen. I understand.”

“I do not have time to listen to your entire story, but I would like to know if there were any significant impacts to the hive or yourself.”

“Y-yes, ma’am, there was.” Spindle nodded. “In order to escape in Cincinneighti, I was forced to change and was witnessed by both the stallion I was grooming to be my source as well as the motel manager.”

“Unless they were able to tie you to any other changelings or their locations, that is not a significant impact.”

“O-oh. I don’t think they were able to. I apologize, my queen.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Yes,” Spindle said. “There was one more thing. After I escaped in Cincinneighti, I had very little love magic left and I was forced to drain a pony. I… I don’t know if I killed her.”

Queen Chrysalis pursed her lips, humming at looking at Spindle for a long moment. “You don’t know? How faint was her love when you stopped drawing from it?”

“I, um, I don’t know.”

“Spindle,” Queen Chrysalis growled. “Are you saying that we sent an improperly trained collector into Equestria or were you simply not paying attention?!”

“N-no!” Spindle frantically sputtered. “I was trained! I know how to drain a pony! I… I don’t know what happened. One minute she was hugging and consoling me and the next I was standing over her, ripping her love out.”

Her queen sighed once again. “You went into a frenzy, then.”

“A… a frenzy, ma’am?” Spindle asked, trying to calm her hammering heart.

“How little love did you have left? Can you estimate for me?”

“I don’t think I had any left, your majesty.” Spindle looked down, unwilling to meet her queen’s eyes. “I’d passed out and when I woke up, it was so painful. I’d never felt anything like it.”

“My child,” Chrysalis said, the softness in her voice drawing Spindle’s eyes back to hers. “You weren’t at nothing, though you were very close. The pain you went through is something I would do anything to prevent my children from ever experiencing. Had you waited much longer before feeding, you would have begun to feel numb and then be led into a deep sleep you’d never awaken from.”

“I-I did, kind of. The pain went away and I couldn’t even cry anymore. I was so tired and I just wanted to sleep. I found a place and I did nearly fall asleep. But then that mare and her filly came up to me.”

Spindle watched as Queen Chrysalis closed her eyes and sat there, her body still. Seconds passed and she grew nervous. Did I say something wrong? Or was it something I did?’

Finally, her queen’s eyes opened and she looked sadly upon Spindle. “I am deeply sorry for what you went through, my child. You were truly at death’s door and I am grateful that you’ve returned to me. Do you know the name of the mare that you drained or her filly?”

Spindled nodded. “I do, ma’am. Her name was Bright Resin and her filly’s name was Ruby Sunrise. They live in a house near a park in Cincinneighti’s farming community.”

“Good. Thank you. I cannot offer any solace to whether you did end her life, but I do not hold you accountable for what occurred there. However, I will send a message to the Cincinneighti infiltrators to look into the situation. If you did kill her, we will need to track any investigations that follow.”

“R-right. Thank you very much, ma’am.” Spindle bowed her head deeply and relief flooded her at the pardon. That relief was quickly doused when she remembered what happened after. “But, your majesty, something else happened when I was in my frenzy.”

Queen Chrysalis simply raised an eyeridge. “Hmm?”

Spindle closed her eyes and swallowed. The shiver returned before she could contain it. She opened her eyes and looked directly into her queen’s, ready for what may come. “Ruby, Bright Resin’s filly, she interrupted me as I was draining her mother. In my frenzy, I was so angry and hungry and I pinned her down. She struggled and was so scared. I remember reveling in it. After I’d purposefully terrified her, I… I almost fed on her.”

The queen’s eyeridge lowered. “You almost fed on her.”

“Yes.” Spindle nodded again.

“But you didn’t.”

“No, ma’am.” Spindle shook her head, but quickly added, “But if I hadn’t been broken from the frenzy, I would have killed her!”

“But you didn’t,” Queen Chrysalis repeated.

“Well… no.” She searched her at her queen’s eyes, trying to decipher her meaning. In her frenzy, Spindle nearly broke one of the biggest rules of being a collector, yet the monarch in front of her didn’t care?

“Then I have no concern for this matter. If you had told me the filly followed you to another collector’s residence or overheard something vital regarding our operations, then it would be a different situation. Were there any other matters you needed to address?”

Spindle merely looked at her. She didn’t understand, it was a horrendous thing for her to have committed, even if she’d been interrupted. “But, I almost—”

“Do you seek to continue wasting my time?” Chrysalis boomed, making Spindle flinch back and feel ever more insignificant. “Just what are you looking for? Condemnation? I have far more grievous atrocities to deal with than one which carried no more consequence than mentally scarring a young filly! Now, if there was nothing else you had… had to re… port…”

Her queen trailed off and she shut her eyes tight, her uninjured forehoof barely rising from the ground. A nigh inaudible grunt only just gracing Spindle’s ears.

“My queen,” a guard at her side stepped forward, “are you alright? Should I fetch a nurse again?”

Queen Chrysalis’s eyes snapped open and she turned to him with a scowl, giving a harsh wave of her good leg. “I’m fine,” she huffed and turned her gaze back to Spindle and breathed deep, her glower melting to a sad frown. “Spindle, if it’s damnation you’re seeking, you’ll find none here and now. Had it been different and you’d intentionally attempted to drain that filly, you would be facing far more than my anger.

“We all make mistakes, Spindle. This is one I will not see you disciplined for.”

It didn’t feel right. She was going too easy on her and she deserved more, but grace was all she’d deigned to give her. Spindle bowed her head. “I… okay. Thank you, ma’am. I have nothing else to say.”

“Then I have need of your help, Spindle,” Queen Chrysalis said, her tone somber. “I cannot afford to have you sent out as a collector, but I have a more important task that I need to be done.”

“Y-your majesty!” Spindle nearly gaped in shock at her not-command. “Of course, anything you ask and I will do my best!”

Her queen nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thank you. Perhaps in time…” she paused for a short moment, but merely shook her head. “Right now, there may be dozens of injured changelings that were flung across Equestria. Many may soon be at the door you knocked upon. Some have already passed through it. To prevent any more needless death of my children, I have ordered search and rescue teams be assembled. Every hoof counts and I need you to assist them.”

“I will at once, my queen.” She bowed deeply.

“You may rise. General Elytra is organizing search efforts in the military halls. Please go see her.”

Spindle rose and began turning, but paused. Facing the throne, she bowed her head. “Thank you again, your majesty. For everything.”

An emotionless expression and a small nod was all she received in response.

Turning again, Spindle walked to the throne room’s door. She opened it and exited, hearing the stone door shut behind her. Nodding to the guards, she continued down the passageway and turned the corner.

The breath she was holding escaped her lips and she leaned against the wall, reeling from the experience. The queen was… nothing like she’d heard. Spindle had expected stern reprimands and harsh commands, and she certainly got some, but by the end she’d received a solemn apology and what amounted to a request.

She didn’t understand. Maybe… she’s tired and her wounds from the wedding were clouding her mind. She snapped at me a few times, but she was almost… nice.

It didn’t make any sense and she was more than a little afraid to ask anyling about it.

Spindle pushed off the wall and nodded to herself. Her queen gave her a request and she fully intended to see it through.
> Act I ~ Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Firefly’s crafted smile nearly wavered at the pure sadness and despair that forced the tear from her husband’s eye.

“I… Okay. I’ll see you—” Fine Roast’s words caught in his throat.

Be strong. Be strong, Firefly. For him.

She so desperately wished she could offer him more comfort, wished they could have talked about what to do if ponies got too inquisitive. Instead, all she could do was hope the untrained stallion would be able to play his part, whatever that may be.

“Please come with us, ma’am,” Lieutenant Steel said, drawing her attention away from Roast.

Firefly nodded, fighting to keep her breaths steady, no matter how much her body told her to take a deep, calming breath. The lieutenant turned and she followed him to the door, the hoofcuffs forcing her to take short choppy steps. She clenched her jaw at the flood of anguish behind her as she stepped outside to the alleyway. There was nothing she could do about it.

Not a Chrysalis damned thing she could do for him.

“Okay, sergeant,” the lieutenant said, coming to a stop in front of a unicorn guard next to the carriage, “take her back to processing. I’ll come as soon as I’m done here.”

“Yes, sir.” The sergeant gave a sharp salute, only dropping it once Steel returned one of his own.

The lieutenant turned and walked back to the cafe, giving Firefly one last skeptical glance as he passed. She gave him a small smile and nod in return, but it did nothing to ease the suspicion flowing from inside him.

Her eyes were drawn back forward as the sergeant stepped over to the side of the carriage and pulled open the door. “Please step inside, miss.”

Firefly nodded and walked forward, taking her first step up. The familiar sound of the cafe door slamming shut behind her gave her pause. She turned her head, the sight of the shut door clenching her heart. Her lungs cared not for disguises and drew deep of their own volition as she was suddenly overcome with the regret of not having gotten one last look at him.

She slowly, quietly exhaled the deep breath and turned back to the carriage, taking the last step inside. 

Sitting down at the back, she looked back to the door at the sergeant standing outside.

“Alright, ma’am,” the sergeant spoke, “sit tight. We’ll be leaving in a moment.”

Firefly nodded, the same pleasant, crafted smile on her face and watched as he shut the door with a clunk, another quieter clank sounding after.

She sat there, staring blankly at the door.

Noises, muffled talking, made their way through the carriage walls, but they were meaningless.

Breathing. Her own breathing. Not quite slow. More breaths.

Faster.

Her muzzle opened.

Panting.

Can’t stop!

“Oh sweet Chrysalis,” Firefly whispered, “what did I just do?”

She lifted her hooves and laid her head in them, her bonds rattling together.

How… How do I get out of this? I shouldn’t have gone with them, but there was nothing else I could have done! Ohhh what do I do?

The carriage jerked forward and a whimper escaped her lips before she could catch it.

Stop, she told herself and sat back, lowering her hooves back to her lap. Breathe, Firefly. Control yourself and think. Deep breath. 

She closed her eyes and breathed in. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Exhale.

One more.

Another deep breath, held, and slowly let out. Shorter and shorter deep breaths left her before, finally, her breathing became manageable again.

Okay. She opened her eyes again. Now think. They’re trying to pin you as a changeling. How would they do that?

The lieutenant said they’d need both of us to come, so it had to be something that would involve us both. The only thing I’ve seen in the news is of the queen herself and a lot of those articles were focused on mind control. If they’re hoping to find me out with that, they’ll be sorely disappointed.

They couldn’t be banking on only that, though. What else? Firefly hummed softly for a moment before her brows furrowed and concern filled her. Memory spell? Do those even exist? Perhaps a truth-telling spell? Do those even exist? I really wish I knew more about magic. 

Wait. A breath caught in her throat. They couldn’t have a… changeling detection spell, could they? It couldn’t be that simple, right?

If they were able to make a spell that found the difference between a pony and a changeling… she simply had to hope they didn’t, because if they did, there was no hope.

Okay. Alright. Let’s assume they don’t have a spell. What else could they do? The only other thing I can think of is to make sure I’m actually Sweet Leaf. Which shouldn’t be difficult at all, seeing as I made her.

Then… she let out a sigh, what do I do? If they have some other trick behind their flank and I get caught, I could end up being the one they use to develop a spell from. The damage that would do to the hive… it’s immeasurable.

So, then do I run? Do I escape or do I risk everything? Being in love doesn’t—can’t take priority over the hive. It can’t. The hive needs whatever secrecy it has left.

Were she any other changeling or if it were any other source, there wouldn’t even be a question. She’d run and that’d be it. 

Though, what if I try to run and get caught anyway? I have enough love that I think I could manage it, but I can sense… she concentrated on the emotions around her for a short moment, only barely the two guards pulling the carriage. If they really did surround the cafe before my arrest, there’s got to be more following now.

She huffed and set her head against the back of the carriage. So there’s a chance I fail if I run and a chance I succeed if I stay. If I run now, Sweet Leaf is dead, but if I stay, she might live. And if Sweet Leaf dies, Roast and I…

Her brows furrowed. She leaned forward and frowned down at the floor. So concerned, she had been, about the hive and getting caught that she lost sight of why she was concerned in the first place.

She thought about it, about what leaving really meant. It meant she’d never see her husband again. She’d never enjoy another one of his iced Equestrianos. Never cook breakfast for him again. Never wake up on a Sunday morning, spending the first waking hour snuggling and basking in his warm love.

Never again.

Her stomach twisted itself and her mouth went dry. Her imagination couldn’t even begin to form such an idea.

Losing him would be utterly crushing, but could she afford to keep him? Who was she to put at risk, the love everyone said she wasn’t supposed to have or her queen and hive?

If I stay and somehow get out of this, I’ll be able to keep both. But escaping would undoubtedly keep the hive safe and it would mean… goodbye.

It was unfathomable. A life without his love. Without his…

Love. His love. Leaving him would hurt you, but what would it do to him? He was terrified when they came in and even more devastated when they took you. You told him it would all be okay. You promised him. You said you’d be waiting.

No. Firefly breathed in deep and steeled herself as the carriage slowed and made a hard turn, going up a little hill. This isn’t about just you anymore and you will not throw this away. You are better than them and you will find a way. The hive is important, but so is he.

He is important.

She took another deep breath and let it out, the well-crafted smile filling her face once again. It’s showtime, Sweet Leaf. Get ready for the most important part you’ll ever play.

Abruptly, the carriage came to a stop. A short moment later, the door clicked and popped open. A guard stood outside, his horn still lit.

“Alright, miss,” the guard said, sounding very similar to the sergeant from earlier, “please step out of the carriage and follow me.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and stood, stepping down the carriage’s two steps. Coming fully onto the cobblestone path she looked ahead at the sergeant, a little bit past him was a female guard. To the side, she noticed a fenced off area with several other guard carriages.

He and the mare turned and began walking to the building. 

Sweet Leaf quickly stepped forward to follow, but yelped and stumbled from the short chain between the hoofcuffs on her forelegs.

“Careful!” a voice behind her said.

She quickly turned her head and saw two pegasi guards flying close to the ground. Further back behind the carriage stood two more unicorn guards. Sweet Leaf masked her surprise with a friendly smile.

“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure where they came from, but she bet her guess back in the carriage was right. They were probably part of the guards escorting her.

I’m doubly glad I didn’t decide to blindly run. Four unicorns and two pegasi would not have been fun to get away from. Roast might have made sure I have plenty of love, but I’m not certain it would have helped much against that.

Turning forward again, she saw the sergeant had stopped and was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Heh. I’m, uh, good. Forgot I had these things on.” Sweet Leaf lifted a hoof and shook it, jingling the hoofcuff chain.

“Alright.” He faced the building again and continued on towards the door marked Authorized Personnel Only.

Sweet Leaf followed the two guards up to the building, pausing as the mare pulled out a key and unlocked the door. 

“Enter the building and walk forward.” The guardsmare directed, pushing the door open in her magic. 

Nodding, Sweet Leaf continued inside into a small, almost hallway-like lobby with a mere wall mounted table and a single door on the far right. Her ears flicked back as a couple sets of hoofsteps followed in behind her, the door banging shut a moment later. From her right trotted the female guard, heading to the far door and unlocking it.

The mare looked back at Sweet Leaf and nodded her head to the door. “Walk straight through the door and go through the first door on your right.”

Again, Sweet Leaf did as she was told and continued on through the door, entering at the corner of a hallway. As she continued straight, she eyed the hall to her left and raised an eyebrow at the short hall with what appeared to be three barred holding cells on either side and a single barred door at the end.

Looking straight again, she came to the first open door on her right. She turned into the doorway and continued into the empty room. Straight ahead on the left wall was a desk with a rolling chair underneath and on the right was a wide, metal table with a chair on either side and a folder at the nearest side.

Hooves clopped up from the hallway and Sweet Leaf turned back to the door. 

The guardsmare entered the room and looked Sweet Leaf in the eyes, jerking her head to the table. “Take a seat on the far side.”

Following the mare’s directions, Sweet Leaf continued around the table, eyeing the folder before taking a seat. Looking down in front of her, she raised an eyebrow at an odd little latch open with a small, horizontal groove embedded into the tabletop.

She looked up and stowed her curiosity and looked up at the guardsmare approaching her.

“Hooves,” the guard said, unamusement clear on her face.

Sweet Leaf furrowed a brow. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Hooves,” she repeated, raising a hoof and tapping the metal, “put them on the table.”

“Oh, alright.” Pulling her hooves out from underneath, Sweet Leaf placed them on top, the metal cuffs clinking against the surface. 

The mare reached out and pulled her hoofcuff chain until it slipped into the groove. She flipped the latch down, clicking it shut before turning and heading back to the door.

Hinges squeaked from out in the hall, followed by hoofsteps and a loud clang.

“You ready?” The guardsmare asked, her head sticking out of the room.

“That we are,” a stallion’s voice replied from out in the hall.

“Good.” The mare turned back into the room.

Following her were two guards, a stallion levitating a medical bag and another mare levitating a clipboard. The new mare closed the door behind her and stood at the far wall, facing the table while the stallion set his bag on the desk, pulling out the rolling chair and sitting down.

The first guardsmare took a seat at the table and flipped open the folder. “Your name is Sweet Leaf, correct?” she asked without looking up.

Sweet Leaf nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“And you own the Sweet Roast Cafe?”

“Co-own with my husband, Fine Roast, but yes,” she corrected.

“Please state your age and date of birth,” the mare asked, still looking at the papers.

“I’m twenty-eight years old and was born on April twenty-first, year nine seventy-three.” Sweet Leaf’s eyes flicked over to the mare on the other side of the room. As soon as she began talking, the mare began writing.

Scribing what I say. Interesting. She held onto that little fact for later.

“You’ve been taken into custody on suspicion of being a changeling assuming the identity of Sweet Leaf,” the guardsmare finally looked up at her. “Do you have anything you would like to add to this or reveal any additional details?”

“No.” Sweet Leaf shook her head, shifting her forehooves and haunches from the uncomfortable positions they’d been forced into.

“Do you understand the reason for your arrest?”

She nodded her head, settling back into her seat. “I understand the claims against me, false as they may be.”

No reason not to be confident, Sweet Leaf thought.

“Are there any health issues you need to address that may be a risk to others or yourself? This includes any prescription medications.”

“No, none.”

“Very well,” the guardsmare said, looking back down and shuffling her papers. “According to the warrant, we are authorized to perform up to a non-invasive physical examination of both you and your husband, as well as a magic and enchantment inspection. However, your examination will include a cavity search for contraband. Do you understand this?”

“Yes, I read the warrant.”

She kept the neutral look on her face and breathed as normally as she could. The magic inspection. Stars, please let it be only that.

“Do you have anything you would like to reveal to us about any conditions, spells, or enchantments we may find on you or your husband before we conduct your examination?” She rearranged the papers and closed the folder.

“No.” Sweet Leaf shook her head again. “Unless Fine Roast goes out and buys some magical trinket today, neither he nor I have any enchanted items that I’m aware of.”

“Fine.” The guard scooted back and stood up out of her chair,  turning to the other two guards. She reached back into her side pouch and pulled out a set of keys, hoofing them over to the stallion. “She’s all yours. I’ll be outside.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Berry.” The stallion nodded to the guardsmare as she opened the door and stepped out.

Stowing the keys in his own pouch, he turned back to his medical bag. He stood there for a short moment before turning to Sweet Leaf, clipboard and pen in his magic. “Hello, Miss Leaf. My name is Lieutenant Haze. I’m the on-duty medic today and I’ll be conducting your physical exam. Unless you have any objections, Sergeant Fire behind me will serve as your chaperone today.”

Lieutenant Haze paused, looking back and nodding at the mare in question, before turning back and continuing, “Her specialty is magical in nature, but she has a secondary background in medicine and is sworn to keep any medical topics we discuss here private and confidential. However, due to the nature of this investigation and by authority of the arrest warrant, some or all of the medical discussion here will be used to compare against your records at the Hoofington Hospital. Do you have any questions or issues to address before we get started?”

Sweet Leaf almost raised an eyebrow at the stallion. From the example of the abrasive Lieutenant Berry, she’d figured that not a lot of ponies here were going to treat her with much respect. She was happy to be wrong. “No, I don’t believe so.”

“Excellent! Let’s get started then.” He took the sole seat across from her. “Over the past few months, have you experienced any excessive stress? This could be due to your work, relationships, emerging events, or any other causes.”

“No. I mean, just the ‘normal,’” her chains clinked as she poorly attempted air quotes, “stuff you’d expect from being one of the two employees at a cafe open six days per week and having one of your close friends turn out to be a changeling.”

“I see. How about any history of high blood pressure or heart issues?”

“For me, no. My mother has been diagnosed with hypertension, though.”

“Thank you.” He paused, writing on his clipboard before looking back up. “Any chronic medical conditions you’ve developed? Or are there any others on either of your parents’ sides?”

“As far as I know, no.”

“Perfect. Last question. In the past few years, were there any incidents that either caused you to seek immediate medical attention, or caused you to book an appointment with your medical provider that resulted in a diagnosis?”

“No. Erm well,” she hesitated, debating if it really counted. Then again, this sounded like it was for records checking, so it probably did, “actually yes. There was one time. About three years ago, a few months after Roast and I had gotten married, I had an accident with our espresso machine’s steam wand. We had one of those lever type steam wand valves on the side of the machine. Well, I was a... little inexperienced, but I wanted to do my part to help Roast run the cafe.

“I was rushing and I knocked over an empty cup beside the machine. I rushed to get it, but I wasn’t paying attention and, as I reached past the pulled-out steam wand, it caught inside my apron. I panicked, ‘cause, you know, that steam is really hot, and I flailed a little. Of course, my arm happened to knock the steam valve open and it blew steam right against my front.”

Sweet Leaf shrunk a little into her chair at the honestly quite embarrassing mistake. “It wasn’t on me for very long, but I, uh, screamed and fell back. Roast came from the kitchen and, after he saw what happened, he shut the valve and went to check on me. I remember being in shock and just staring at the thing. I don’t really remember what he tried to say. All I could think at the time was how I was supposed to be careful around the thing and there I was, going and burning myself in the first few times I’d used it.

“I do remember that he rushed everyone out of the cafe, threw me on his back, and ran straight to the emergency room. It wasn’t a very bad burn, mostly first degree is what the doctor said.” She took a deep breath and sighed before continuing, “But, well, I learned my lesson the hard way that day. If you don’t know something, don’t act like you do. Your pride isn’t worth it.”

“Mmm,” Lieutenant Haze nodded, writing down for a moment before he set the pen back on the table. He looked up at her, his emotions bringing more empathy than his smile. “Those are always hard lessons to take, but we all have to learn them at some point.”

“Heh, yeah.” Sweet Leaf gave him a smile in return. “Though, I wish the lessons didn’t cost so much.”

“Don’t we all.” He snorted. “Alright, unless there’s something else, we’ll now be moving on to the physical portion of this exam.”

Sweet Leaf sat up straight. “Nope, that was the only thing.”

Truthfully, back then, she’d locked up because she’d been more afraid of Roast getting suspicious rather than of her own folly. Now, though, the memory of his devotion only made her more anxious of what was to come.

And what she had to lose.

“Excellent.“ Lieutenant Haze said, breaking her out of her thoughts. He stood and turned around, walking back to the desk before setting his clipboard and pen on it. He pulled a pair of latex hoof coverings and a blood pressure cuff out of his medical bag, then turned back around. Pulling keys out of his side pouch, he walked forward and levitated the keys over the table, unlocking the latch.

Sweet Leaf moved to pull her hooves back to her lap, but hesitated, remembering she should probably keep them visible. Lieutenant Haze picked up the other chair in his magic and brought it around the table, setting it down next to Sweet Leaf.

He went about his work feeling her neck, listening to her breath, and other medical-y things. She noticed it was very similar to those annual exams she’d get as Sweet Leaf. While the exams were useless for a decent portion of medical issues that could arise in changeling biology, especially while disguised as a pony, some conditions could carry over.

Though when the cavity search came up, she did her best not to blanch. She hated that part of annuals as much as any mare.

“Alright, Miss Leaf,” Lieutenant Haze said, setting his clipboard onto the table, “that’s it for my portion. Please place your hoofcuff chain back into the groove.”

Sweet Leaf reached her hooves forward and let the chain drop back under the open latch.  

Lieutenant Haze closed the latch with a click. He stepped back around to the other side of the table, taking the chair with him, before removing his latex hoof gloves. “I understand it may not have been the most pleasant, but I very much appreciate your cooperation.”

“Of course.” Sweet Leaf put on another friendly smile, making sure to hide her true feelings on the matter. “If it means I’m proven to be who I am and I get to go home tonight, I’m more than happy to do what you need.”

“Indeed. Now, next up will be my fellow guardsmare’s portion. It should be rather simple, though I’ll let her explain it.”

Haze turned to the desk, grabbing his clipboard and beginning to sit down. The mare, Sergeant Fire, Sweet Leaf believed, took a moment to finish writing before setting her clipboard on the desk.

The mare turned to her and stepped forward with a smile. “Hello! My name’s Dawn Fire and I’ll be doing the magical scan for any artefacts, enchantments, or spells you may have on you. Before I do, I’m obligated to ask, do you have any items or spells in or on your body that would be sensitive to magical probing?”

“No, I don’t.”

Firefly’s heart skipped a beat, but forced her face to keep the smile unwaveringly. This was it. If this was their detection spell, she was done. If it was only a magical scan, there shouldn’t be a problem.

I think. I’m pretty sure my metanoia doesn’t give off any magical energy when it’s not active. The organ that was responsible for shifting was also the one organ changelings couldn’t just shift away. Not only would the transformation not finish, and likely very painfully at that, if it did disappear, she’d be completely unable to shift again.

She almost shuddered at the horror stories she’d heard as a nymph and was more than happy to not find out how valid they were.

“Alright. I’m going to start magically probing your body. You may feel a slight tingling sensation.”

Up until now, it was as simple as going along with their requests. Now was the first big hurdle. Her vision suddenly tinted orange and she closed her eyes out of reflex, allowing herself a small, deep breath as her heart began to thump away in her chest of its own volition. Tingling did indeed cover her body, not overly unpleasant, but also not something she’d go out of her way to feel again. Especially after this.

She fought the urge to hold her breath in anticipation and apprehension, forcing her breathing to remain calm and steady.

Ages seemed to pass and, despite her best efforts, her nervous energy came out in a wing shuffle, the feathers barely rattling their cages.

Just as she was about to lose another battle to fidgeting, the tingling disappeared. She opened her eyes and looked at the guardsmare.

“Okay! Examination’s done,” Dawn chirped before raising an eyebrow at Sweet Leaf. “Are you alright, Miss Leaf? You’re a little flushed.”

Ugh. This is not what I wanted. Sweet Leaf gave a tiny huff before putting a half-reassuring smile on her face. “Yeah, the tingling was, uh, weird. I’ve never had one of those done before.”

“Ah,” Dawn said, brightening back up, “well don’t worry. Aside from a few very sensitive enchantments, there’s nothing harmful about a little magic probe.”

“Alright, so...” Firefly began, keeping her voice as normal as she could with a friendly smile on her face, “did I pass?”

Dawn gave her a sympathetic grimace. “I’m afraid it’s not my place to say, sorry.” The mare shrugged her shoulders. “That will have to come from the lieutenant or the detective after they’ve been able to review all the results.”

“Ah, that’s fine.” Firefly returned her shrug. “I understand.”

A small amount of relief came over her as she took in Dawn’s emotions. The mare showed no signs of concern, surprise, or suspicion. Hopefully that means I’m good to go. Either that or it would take somepony kicking her puppy to dampen her spirits.

Dawn Fire stepped back and faced the lieutenant. “You good to go, LT?”

“Yeah, one second,” Lieutenant Haze said, scribbling on his clipboard before sitting back. He stood and placed the clipboard and pen back into his bag. “Alright, good to go.”

“Alrighty.” Dawn turned to the door and stepped forward, opening it. “Lieutenant Berry? We’re good in here, ma’am.”

“Finally.” Firefly heard from the hall as Dawn stepped back, allowing the rather unpleasant lieutenant to enter the room. “You got the keys, Haze?”

“Yep, right here.” He reached a hoof into his pouch and pulled out the keys, holding them out and letting her magic pick them up. “Everything went smoothly.”

“Good,” Lieutenant Berry said, then turned, walking around the table along the far wall. As Haze and Dawn left the room, Berry levitated the keys and inserted them into the latch’s lock, popping it open. “Up.”

Sweet Leaf complied, scooting the chair back and standing. Facing the mare, she gave her a questioning look.

“Turn around,” Lieutenant Berry commanded, twirling her hoof, “walk to, and out the door. Follow the guards outside.”

Sweet Leaf did as the lieutenant asked and walked around the table. She continued and exited the room, seeing the guards in the middle of the hall on either side of the door, both of them facing left, back towards the cells.  As she stepped out and between them, the guardsmare in front began walking forward and Sweet Leaf took that as her cue to move. Behind her clopped a couple pairs of hoofsteps.

They turned right at the corner, going down the same short hall of cells Sweet Leaf had seen when she came in. She glanced inside one of the cells and held back a grimace at the sparseness. Only a small metal bench, a bed, and a toilet graced the interior of each.

Though, as the guard came to a stop just after the second cell, Sweet Leaf couldn’t help but notice there was nopony in any of the cells.

Come to think of it, it is pretty big news whenever a crime happens. So these being empty kinda makes sense.

“Step aside,” Lieutenant Berry said from behind her.

Sweet Leaf looked back and saw Berry to her right. Stepping left, she let the mare pass and watched as she unlocked the second cell.

“Get in and walk to the far wall,” the lieutenant said.

Wordlessly, Sweet Leaf stepped forward into the cell, walking to the far side before turning around.

“No,” Berry called, halting Sweet Leaf mid turn, “face the far wall.”

Sweet Leaf held back a huff and turned back away from Berry. Once she had stopped moving. she heard two sets of hoofs come into the cell behind her, not a word spoken between the guards. Keys jingled and a moment later, she felt a shift and a click on her wing cages. Resisting the urge to watch them take it off, she held her head forward and felt as they slid the cages back off her wings.

“Alright,” Berry spoke up, hoofsteps echoing back behind Sweet Leaf, “now turn around and hold your forehooves out.”

Knowing that replying would be useless, she silently turned around, seeing the guardstallion exit her cell with the wing cages draped across one hoof. Keeping her eyes forward and the growing annoyance off her face, she sat back to her haunches and held her hooves out for the lieutenant.

More keys jangled as Berry levitated a small hoofcuff key and unlocked one side, then the other before she pulled them off.

Sweet Leaf pulled her hooves back and rubbed at the irritating feeling the cuffs left behind on her fetlocks.

“Turn back around and put your forehooves up on the wall, where I can see them.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and set her forehooves back on the floor. She turned back around and shimmied up to the wall before sitting down again. Putting her forehooves up onto the wall, she almost squished her snout against the cold stone before realizing she didn’t have to be quite that close. Her ears flicked back at the sound of the lieutenant’s hooves leaving her cell. Squeaking resounded in the cell and before the door clanged shut.

“Alright you can relax,” Lieutenant Berry said.

Dropping her forehooves back to the hard stone floor, Sweet Leaf faced the cell door again. Lieutenant Berry was looking in at her with an unamused expression and the two other guards had posted themselves in front of the empty cell across from hers.

“Get comfy,” Berry quipped. “I have a feeling they’re not gonna be ready for your interrogation for a long while.” Without another word, the lieutenant left back down the hallway.

Sweet Leaf watched her disappear from sight, and with nothing else to do, she hopped up onto the bed and sat down. A moment later, the loud clang of the door separating the holding cells came from around the corner.

Interrogation. That means they still haven’t found enough to condemn me. At least, I hope so. She breathed in deep and exhaled, her shoulders and back slumping in catharsis. Her bet paid off, at least for now. There were no fancy spells to detect her or force a shift back to her changeling form.

Though with all that out of the way, the only thing left to do was wait. And worry. Worry about her husband. About the interrogation.

What could they be interrogating me about? My family? All that is perfectly documented at town hall and there’s no way they had time to actually go talk to Sweet Leaf’s parents. They’re an entire day by train away. And they already got a medical background from me. What else could they ask? Had it not been for the guards outside, she’d have hummed and wiggled her eyebrows while she was thinking. She fought to keep the odd habits stowed away.

I guess they could ask about mine and Roast’s relationship. Though that would require them to, well, interrogate Roast. Which they can. Her lips curved up into a small smile. They’re in for a surprise if that’s what they’re going for. Roast and I have nothing to hide.

Her smile dropped again. Except he knew the whole time. ‘Cause you were as careless as Bobby Pin. You’re lucky he’s not like—no. Stop. Her head twitched before she caught her habitual head shake. That was a long time ago and everything turned out well. Besides this. And his confrontation a few days ago. Which I’m sure he can… make something up. Except he’s kind of bad at lying. Ugh, great. Everything was so simple when I only had to rely on me. There was hardly anything on teamwork back in training!

She let out a tiny, unsatisfying grumble.

Though… what else could it be about besides our history? She silently hummed, staring at the floor. There wasn’t anything else she could think of that they could use to confirm Sweet Leaf’s identity. Or Firefly’s. Family, friends, spouse, personal and medical details, what else was there?

Wait a second. She raised her eyebrow a tiny bit. Steel said that a validated source made the claims. I know it’s Wavy, there’s nopony else it could be, but… how would they have validated it? They wouldn’t have started a full blown investigation over her merely leaving, so it had to be something that they found. There’s no way Spindle left any resin behind, I know for a fact that she wasn’t making a cocoon. The only other thing would be—

Her mind went blank for a long moment as it hit her.

Oh no. I never checked with Skitter. I have no idea if she was able to get Spindle’s crystals or not. I stupidly assumed it was all taken care of. If she didn’t find them and they did, then they might tear up the cafe looking for mine. She shifted in place, her anxiety having nowhere to go. She desperately wanted to put her head in her hooves. Or get up and pace.

Or have Roast hold her.

Stars, this is not okay. I’m glad I at least remembered to move the crystals back under the floorboards, but finding a box full of crystals isn’t any less odd than finding a burlap sack. If they find it… It’s over. The chance of getting out of that is so low. No more cafe. No more— No. Stop. Stop it.

Slowly, silently, she breathed in deep.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Release.

Okay, Firefly. Be calm. Collected. You just have to hope they didn’t find it. There’s nothing you can do about it now. Maybe I can talk my way out of it. And if they do keep me locked up, Skitter will find out. She’ll ask for help. There’s no way the hive would ignore an imprisoned collector. It’ll be okay. You’ll be fine. You’ll be…

You’ll be alone.

Her face fell and her heart seized at the idea. All of a sudden she didn’t want to think about that anymore.

Taking what little privacy she had left, she turned away from the bars and laid down. She tucked her hooves under her chin, trying to hide her shaky breaths and hoping that Roast was taking this better than her.





A deep sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back against the wall on her hard, metal bench. Firefly had no idea how long it had been, only that the two-guard detail watching her had swapped what she assumed must have been an hour ago. There were no windows in the cell block and no way of telling time from the sun.

Her flanks were sore on all sides. The uncomfortable bench, ever too narrow to lay down on, made sure of that. She looked over at the bed and pondered if it had been enough time since she’d switched out the bed for the bench. Instead, she leaned back again and let out another sigh.

She tried her best to keep her mind off all the possibilities, but it was exceedingly difficult with no other distractions than laying on a bed, sitting on the bench, or counting the blocks on the walls. Which, as she eyed the wall the bed was bolted to, she already knew there were forty-four whole blocks on either side and thirty-nine on the back wall.

The useless knowledge did nothing for her constant anxiety.

Talking to the guards had been something she’d avoided. She saw no benefit in trying to communicate with them, especially because she didn’t want to risk giving away her nervousness. Plus, she’d had to use the toilet eventually and the cell provided no privacy for such matters. She held back a shutter, feeling awkward just thinking about it.

Eying the bed again, she wondered if she should try to sleep. If much more time passed in the day, there was no way they’d stick around past duty hours to interrogate her. At that point she’d have to find a way to sleep somehow, regardless.

Firefly wavered back and forth indecisively before she finally figured she might as well get off her flanks. She leaned forward to hop out off the bench, but her ears flicked and her throat seized at a barely audible sound.

Hoofsteps. 

And a far away clunk before a clang, the same kind her cell door made. Louder, the hoofsteps came, but she simply rolled her eyes.

Come on, Firefly. How many times in the last several hours has somepony passed down some connecting hallway? They’re not going to—

Her eyes popped open at the clunk of the barred door around the corner. She took a deep, shaky breath hoping both for and against the idea that they were there for her.

The squeaking hallway door opened around the corner. More hoofsteps and a pause, before the door clanged shut. She stared ahead at the bed, but kept the hall in the corner of her eye.

From around the corner turned a guard, indistinguishable to her from all the others. He stopped in front of her cell.

“Sweet Leaf?” he asked.

She kept her eyebrows in their neutral place and calmly turned her head over to the familiar voice’s owner looking in at her. That voice was Lieutenant Steel’s, without a doubt and if he was here, that probably meant they were done inspecting the cafe.

And were ready to interrogate her.

“Yes?” she replied, sliding off the bench and moving to the middle of the cell.

“We’ve completed all the preliminary investigative activities and the next step will be your interrogation. However, should you desire it, you are allowed an attorney or other legal representative present during the interrogation. Would you like to request one?”

An attorney… Firefly pondered, looking off to the side and tapping her chin for show. That’s one thing we didn’t go over very much in training. From what I do remember, they’re funded by the crown and aren’t all that common. They’re usually used to keep the interrogation on topic and to keep the interrogated from getting overwhelmed. I... think I can manage those things myself. I hope. Plus, the Equestrian legal system is all about truth finding and reformation, and I doubt they’ll be very interested in reforming an enemy of the state.

“I don’t think so,” Sweet Leaf said, setting her hoof down and looking back at Steel. “I can’t be proven to be something I’m not, so it seems rather pointless.” On top of that, if they did discover me, there’d be even less of a point.

“In that case, our interrogator is nearly ready and we will be transferring you to the interrogation room. However, we will need to place restraints on you once more, so please turn around, walk to the far wall, and remain in place.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and repeated the actions she’d done hours prior, though this time butterflies filled her stomach.

Well, this is it. Time to face the music.

The cell door lock clunked and squeaked open behind her, followed by what sounded like two sets of hooves. She stood in place and saw from the corner of her eyes as two of them came up and stopped at either side. Clinking and jingling resonated in the small cell before the familiar cages slid over her wings. She resisted the urge to shuffle or flare the appendages as her wings were locked into place once again.

“Please turn around and hold out your forehooves,” Steel said from her left.

Wordlessly, she complied, turning around and sitting back, presenting her hooves. Steel, hoofcuffs in hoof, held out the open circles and placed them over her fetlocks, closing and clamping shut each in turn.

“Please stay there for just a moment,” Steel said as Sweet Leaf put her hooves down. He turned along with the other guard and left the cell. He and his fellow guard moved to either side of the door, facing inside the cell again. “Alright, please step out of the cell. We will be leading you down the hall to your left.”

Sweet Leaf stood and shuffled her way out. As soon as she was in the hall, the guard to her left turned and began walking down the same hall she’d been down once. Sweet Leaf eyed the closed processing room door as they passed it and her ears flicked back at the sound of her cell door closing. Stopping as the guard in front did, she turned her eyes to the keys levitating into the hall door’s lock.

Turning the key and pulling open the door, the guard proceeded through, Sweet Leaf following behind. Ahead was a T intersection going left and straight with another barred door past the intersection, segmenting the hall. Though, to the left he turned, leading her down a hall with four big metal doors on the left, two doors with restroom signs on the right, and yet another barred door at the end.

As they passed the first metal door, Sweet Leaf eyed its sign.

Observation Room 2? So I’ll be watched by more than just the interrogators. I suppose I should have expected they’d have more ponies than them watching. She followed the guard further down, stopping with him at the last door, labeled Interrogation Room 1. Next to it was its accompanying Observation Room 1 door.

The guard opened the interrogation room door, holding a hoof out into the room and looking to Sweet Leaf. “Please enter the room and take a seat on the far side of the table.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and gave him a smile, taking the short, choppy steps the hoofcuffs allowed into the brightly lit, beige room. Walking around the table, she raised an eyebrow at the setup. There were only two chairs, one for her and one for what she assumed would be her interrogator. Singular. The table, she noticed, was the same type of table in the processing room with a groove and latch on her side. As well, on the observation room side was a big glass mirror set into the wall.

Continuing around the table, she wondered what the mirror could be for. Or rather, she knew what it was for, but not how they’d use it to observe her. Magic, maybe? Don’t know why you’d need a mirror to do that, though.

She reached the end of the table and sat down. Figuring they’d want her in the same uncomfortable position, she put her hooves on the table, letting her hoofcuff chain lay near the groove. She kept the expression off her face, but she was not looking forward to having to hold her hooves in front of her for who knew how long.

“Ah, thank you,” Lieutenant Steel said as he approached the table. “But, before we lock you in, do you need to use the restroom first?”

“No.” Sweet Leaf shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Alright, then.” He leaned forward and pulled her hoofcuff chain into the groove before closing the latch. He stepped back from the table and looked at her. “The cooperation thus far has been much appreciated.”

“Of course.” Sweet Leaf nodded at him and masked her simmering anxiety with a smile. “I know you’re only doing your job and fighting you would only make my release take longer.”

“Yes, well, sit tight for a moment,” he said then turned to leave, going out the door and to the right. The quiet sound of another door opening then closing barely graced Sweet Leaf’s ears.

She eyed the open, unguarded interrogation room door with slight confusion, though she made sure to keep the usual, pleasant smile on her face. If they were testing her, they’d have to think she was a fool to try and escape with at least one set of heavy, metal doors in any direction she could go. Not to mention all the guards and her hoofcuffs.

Though, as she sat there, a faint burst of anxiety came from the observation room wall. She pointedly didn’t look over to the mirrored wall or raise her eyebrow at it.

Anxiety? That’s kind of odd. Do they have some sort of… emotive pony over there trying to draw a reaction out of me? Even if they don’t, this is going to be loads of fun. She sarcastically thought. Gonna have to make sure I don’t pay attention to them.

Outside, the sound of the door opening again broke her from her thoughts and the anxiety from the other room flared even further. From around the corner, the lieutenant walked back into the room, accompanied by another guard holding a coil of wire in her hoof.

The mare was practically pouring with nervousness.

Sweet Leaf watched with as neutral an expression as she could as the new guardsmare stopped at the mirror. The guard grabbed the connector on the end of the coiled wire in her teeth and leaned down. Extended a shaky hoof towards the wall, she flipped up one of two cover plates Sweet Leaf was surprised she hadn’t even seen.

A loud clack filled the room as the connector slipped off the mare’s shaking hoof. She tried again, only to result in another clack.

One more clack and Sweet Leaf’s eyes flicked over to Lieutenant Steel as he raised a hoof towards the mare. She looked back to the poor mare and noticed her eyes had closed and she was taking a deep breath. Her eyes opened back up and she carefully reached forward and pulled the cover up, holding it while she pushed the connector into the wall.

She stood back up and faced Sweet Leaf before stepping towards her, uncoiling the cable as she went.

”H-hello, miss,” the guardsmare began, a forced smile on her face, “If you could, please raise your forelegs. I’m, uh, going to need to put this around your chest.”

Sweet Leaf tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, before she noticed under the coils of wire was an elastic strap. “Uh, okay. What’s it for?” She felt bad for the poor girl. Maybe it was her first day on the job?

“It’s a heart rate monitor,” Lieutenant Steel said from his spot next to the door. “It’s a tool we use to help us determine if a pony is telling the truth.”

“Ah.” It was all Sweet Leaf could think to say as she lifted her forelegs as much as the secured hoofcuffs would allow.

This is… not good. My heart’s already beating like crazy. There might not be a whole lot to lie about with my and Roast’s relationship, but that won’t matter if they know I’m already nervous.

“Alright,” the guardsmare stood up and stepped back, “You’re all set!” she said a little too fast before turning and trotting out the door with naught but a nod to Steel on the way.

“As the mare said, all set,” Steel spoke up. “Again, sit tight. Somepony will be in shortly.”

Her heart still thumping away, she watched as he turned, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Okay, Firefly. Calm down. No bad thoughts, no panic. You are Sweet Leaf and that’s it. You have no idea what love crystals are and you are not a changeling and for the love of Chrysalis, get that heart rate down!

As slowly as she dared, she took a few deep breaths, still sensing the faint emotions coming from the other room. Unsurprisingly, it seemed it was almost entirely the mare’s anxiety along with a hint of concern from somepony else.

Come on, Sweet Leaf. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them. No need to be nervous. It’s just a few questions. You can handle that. You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Soon enough, the tension in her body began to lessen and her heart slowed a small amount. Not a lot, but enough that the fear of having walked into a trap no longer held her captive.

Seems the mare in the other room is calming down, too.

Eventually, the emotions from the other room abated enough that she could no longer feel them.

Minutes seemed to pass and Sweet Leaf’s mind began to betray her. Was this really a trap? Were they waiting for something? A spell, maybe?

Or are they trying to make me nervous?

Before she could ponder the question, the door handle clunked and turned, her eyes flicking over. The door opened and in stepped a light brown pegasus mare wearing a dark grey suit and tie. Her muted blue mane was put up into a bun, a few stray hairs attempting to escape.

Held in one of her wings was a thick briefcase and in the other, a coil of wire and a folder. She wordlessly walked forward, eyes focused downward. Reaching the table, she set the briefcase down on the floor and the folder on the tabletop before turning to the mirror. The wing holding the wire extended forward, the primaries separating one end of the cable. She leaned down and reached out with her unoccupied wing, deftly flipping up the cover plate and plugging the wire in next to the other cable.

She turned around and brought the coil back to the chair, taking a seat before unraveling the wire completely and sticking one end into her ear. Finally, the mare looked forward, unamusement clear on her face, but a small stream of nervousness, self-consciousness, and fear came from her clashed with the expression.

As Sweet Leaf waited for her to speak, she noticed the other mare’s eyes were focused a little down from Sweet Leaf’s. A few moments passed and Sweet Leaf grew a little nervous herself, having an urge to wipe her mouth clean of whatever the mare was staring at.

Is she doing this on purpose? Is this part of the interrogation? Trying to make me—

Without warning, the mare’s emotions cut off and half a second later, her eye’s snapped up to meet Sweet Leaf’s.

“You know,” the interrogator sighed, “this whole process would be a lot easier if you’d simply come out and say it.”

Sweet Leaf’s eyebrow rose. She certainly wasn’t expecting something like this. “Come out and say what? That I’m a dragon? ‘Cause that would carry the same amount of truth as what you want me to say.”

The mare’s eyes didn’t leave hers for even a second. “Your lie’s philosophical truth isn’t lost on me. You aren’t a dragon. You’re also not a changeling, at least, not right now. You’re a disguised changeling. But fine, we can play the game. It’s what we’re here for, after all.”

Firefly mentally paused as she noticed there were hardly any emotions coming from her anymore. It wasn’t like how an infiltrator was taught to shield their emotions, but like she was… unconcerned. Little wisps would flow out of her, tiny bits of happiness, little snippets of resolve, and fragments of curiosity,  but overall, there was almost nothing.

It reminded her of the times she’d watch Roast get absorbed into coffee testing.

The mare’s hooves stayed in their place and her wings came forward to slide the folder in front of herself and open it at an angle away from Sweet Leaf. She reached into the center of the folder and pulled out a pen, setting it on the table.

Sweet Leaf squinted. Has she… used anything but her wings?

“State your full name, age, and occupation for the record,” her interrogator said, not looking up from the papers.

“My name is Sweet Leaf, I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’m a co-owner of the Sweet Roast Cafe along with my husband.”

“And your husband’s name?”

“His name is Fine Roast.”

A tiny, near-inaudible huff escaped from the mare as she set the folder down before closing it.

Sweet Leaf nearly squinted as her eyes caught a picture of the cafe on one side and on the other, a dense page, covered in red highlights with Sweet’s name in bold at the top.

The mare set the folder aside and snapped her gaze back up to Sweet Leaf’s eyes, interrupting her thoughts. “My name is Refined Aura,” she said, reaching a wing into her suit, pulling out a little wallet-like thing and flipping it open. An embossed Equestrian crown was on top and her name with some details on the bottom. “I am a detective with thirteen years of experience, employed by the Hoofington Guard and the Equestrian Crown, tasked with finding the truth in cases exactly like yours.”

She folded up her badge and put it back in her suit. “I was assigned to this case because I’m the best they have and I assure you, I will find the truth. Any slip-up you make, I’ll see it. Any inconsistency, I’ll catch it. So I would advise you, anything you have to confess, do it now.”

Sweet Leaf steeled herself. Don’t fall for her intimidation tactics, because that’s all they are. “Like I’ve already said multiple times, there’s nothing to confess.”

“If you say so.” Refined Aura raised an eyebrow, still not taking her eyes off Sweet Leaf’s. “Though, one does have to wonder, why did you come along so willingly? So calm, cool, and collected, even though your husband, if you can even call him that, was on the edge of a breakdown. It’s almost as if you knew escaping wasn’t an option.”

“Because I expected it.”

“Really? You expected the guard to come to your work and home and arrest you under suspicion of being a changeling?”

Sweet Leaf rolled her eyes. “Not exactly that, but when your friend comes into your shop one morning, screaming that you stole his wife from him, and you can’t dissuade him, you have to expect he’s not going to give up there. Fighting the guards would have done no good.”

“You’re at least correct there, but what about your husband? He was hurt, practically crying as you were taken away. It seems the two of you weren’t on the same page.”

A quiet click rang out and Sweet Leaf paused for a tiny moment. “...he wasn’t,” she said with a tiny bit of hesitation. “We hadn’t had time to talk about everything yet.”

“That’s surprising, honestly.” Another click. “From what I heard, it seemed like you two had a good relationship. Did you have a fight recently?”

“No, we didn’t,” she quipped and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Do you consistently work eighty to ninety hours a week, Miss Aura?  If you do, how do you and your special somepony handle it? With the influx of customers, we’ve been so bogged down and tired from work that we haven’t had a lot of time to talk. I get to work next to my husband and we have to fight together to make time for each other. Do you know what that’s like?”

Sweet Leaf huffed, a little surprised at her outburst. She didn’t need to defend herself and Roast like that. Aura was probably looking to get those reactions out of her, even as the brown mare’s eyes flicked away for a split second.

Wait a second. She’s… hurt?

It wasn’t deep and not a single bit of it showed on Aura’s face as the mare stared right back into her own eyes, but there was pain flowing from her nonetheless. Remorse bubbled up in Sweet Leaf, but quickly caught herself before it could show on her face.

It doesn’t matter. This is your enemy. She’s the one standing between you and Roast and you have no idea if she’s playing with you. This could be all part of her game.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that’s like,” Aura said, her emotions settling without even a bit of change in her tone. “So I’ll have to trust you on it. Though that does bring up an interesting thought.” Aura’s head tilted a tiny bit to the side and one of her eyes squinted. “Why didn’t you go to the guard?”

“For a simple outburst? If I went to the guard every time one of my customers—”

“Not for that,” Aura shook her head, “for the night you got attacked by a changeling.”

Sweet Leaf’s head twitched back before she could contain it. Oh chitin dust. And of course Roast would have told them. Hiding it would have been far worse. But, damnit, what would he have told them?! Think like Roast! “I was… kind of in shock. Bobby Pin dragged me out and pounced on me. She was strong, really strong. Way more than I expected.” She looked down at the table as she made up her story. “I thought she was gonna hit me or something, but then the door opened and Roast confronted her. I guess she got spooked because she looked up at him and bolted down the alley.”

She looked back up at Aura. “I don’t know why Roast never suggested going to the guard. I was so shaken up that I didn’t even think about it. Maybe he noticed and thought it better if we held off. Like I said, we hadn’t had the time to talk about things yet.”

Aura simply stared at her for a few seconds before another pair of clicks resounded.

What is that noise?! Sweet Leaf stared back at Aura for a short moment, but noticed Aura’s wings were moving under the table. What is she… wait, where’s the pen? She glanced down at the table, but the pen she’d pulled out of the folder was nowhere to be seen.

She’s playing with it? Is she anxious again? Sweet Leaf looked back up at Aura. Not a single shred of nervousness came from her, nor really any distinct emotion. No. A tick, then? Or maybe this is another one of her games. Am I not supposed to mention it or will it look strange if I don’t?

“I see. Let’s move on, then,” Aura finally said, making up Sweet’s mind for her. “I’m sure you’ve been able to surmise already that we’ve interviewed Mister Roast earlier today. We asked him a few questions about your and his past, and I’d like to get your perspective of the events.”

Ha! I was right! Bring it, pony girl. I could answer these all day. She, of course, made sure to keep the confidence off her face, adding a pleasant smile instead. “Certainly. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with my side of the stories.”

“We’ll see.” Aura said, shifting her eyes off Sweet Leaf to the folder, grabbing it and flipping it open, keeping its contents away from Sweet Leaf. After a moment of humming and lifting pages, she looked back up into Sweet Leaf’s eyes. “Alright, let’s start easy. For the second anniversary, what gift did Roast get you?”

Second anniversary. Roast got… wait, that was the year that I got Roast something. Her eyes darted back and forth between Aura’s. “You say you interviewed Roast. That means you got this information from him?”

“That’s correct.” Aura nodded.

“If that’s the case, then he forgot or you’ve got your information mixed up. We’ve had three anniversaries and he’s gotten me gifts two out of the three years. But our second anniversary was the one I insisted I get him something instead.”

“Hmm?” Aura raised an eyebrow before looking back at her folder and flipping through pages. “Ah, yes.” She looked back up at Sweet Leaf. “My mistake. I read my notes incorrectly. In any case, tell me about your second anniversary. What was it and what made you give him a gift instead?”

Sweet Leaf grumbled and narrowed her eyes. Not a single bit of confusion or sheepishness. That was not a mistake and If she’s trying to be subtle, she’s doing a bad job at it. Ugh. Except that’s probably the point. I’m really starting to dislike these mind games.

She released the tension in her back, trying to let go of her frustration without being obvious about it. Her eyes shifted down to the table and she hummed, recalling that day. “I didn’t think it was very fair that he do all the gift giving on our anniversaries. As far as who gives what and when, I know there’s no ‘set standard,’ in Equestria,” she tried to air quote, chain clicking as she was met with the same frustrating results as hours ago, “but I wanted to do something nice for him.

“One night, back before we got married, we were visiting his parents and the topic of engagement and anniversary gifts came up. The conversation was all about his mother getting such wonderful gifts from his father. I caught on pretty quick that growing up in his household, it was always the stallion giving to the mare. I’ve never really liked that philosophy, so I decided to even the playing fields, as it were.

“Instead of being subtle about it, I came out and said it directly. I told him that I would be getting him a gift that year and he was going to accept it whether he wanted to or not. He even asked me about it a couple weeks prior to our anniversary. In response, I smacked him with my wing. Playfully, I might add. I told him that it was a surprise and that if he asked about it again, all he’d get was more smacks.”

She paused, looking back up to see if Aura had anything to say. Her eyes were still awkwardly focused on Sweet Leaf’s and, yet still, no significant emotions came from her. With nothing from the mare, she continued.

“So, the day came and I took him out to dinner at our favorite restaurant. Afterward we went home and it was gift time. Though, let me tell you, it was not easy getting a hold of those things. Kopi luwak coffee is ridiculously expensive,” Sweet Leaf cringed a little, “and kind of nasty if you think too hard about it. Or at all. Anyway, I got him a kilogram of coffee, though I tried to be sneaky and put part of his other gift in the bag. I was a little clumsy and ended up spilling almost a third of the bag. I was so mad at myself for that.”

Sweet Leaf gave a small huff, still a little peeved at the five hundred bits she’d wasted. “Anyway. I wanted it to be a really big surprise, so I gave him the bag and told him to open it. Inside, I’d put a few brown topaz I’d commissioned to get carved into the shape of the beans on his flank. Except, it wouldn’t have been complete without the saucer and cup, so I commissioned somepony to make a replica of those, too.

“When I pulled out the saucer and cup, he started getting teary eyed. He’s always been more prone than other stallions to wearing his heart on his shoulder, whether that be sad or… protective…”

Firefly looked down at the table, melancholy suddenly overcoming her. Huh. I got so caught up in all this that I forgot we never got to have our talk. I'm not even upset at him anymore. If I get through this—no, if we get through this, I don’t even care if we never talk about it as long as we—

“Miss Leaf?”

Her head snapped up to Aura’s still locked gaze and raised eyebrow. “Sorry. I, uh, got caught up in the memory.” I’ve got to make it out of this. There’s no way I’m going to let all this be the last things we go through together.

“Continue, please.”

Sweet Leaf nodded and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, when I gave it all to him, he teared up pretty bad. I honestly wasn’t trying to make him cry, but I wanted to kick it home. So I told him that all my gifts were worthless compared to how much I loved him.”

Hm, I wonder if I… “And, uh, not that it’s related,” She put a smile on and let a blush overcome her cheeks, “but, I think that night was probably some of the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Aheh… ohhh,” she dropped her smile and put her snout down on the table. “I don’t know why I said that,” she mumbled.

Is that embarrassment? Sweet Leaf sat back up, disguising her curiosity with a blush of her own, but annoyance filled her at the mare’s unwaveringly unamused face. Argh! She’s so dang good at hiding her expressions! I can’t tell if she’s playing with me or if she’s skittish. Sweet’s abashedness slowly dropped as her forelegs protested once again at being held out for so long.

“Moving on. I’m curious about your honeymoon. Tell me what happened then.”

“Alright,” she held back a sigh. Her flanks were already sore from the hours spent in the cell and she knew it was only going to get worse. “We both wanted to go somewhere special for our honeymoon. Eventually, the destination of Las Pegasus came up and since I’d never…”





“I think that’s enough background, Miss Leaf,” Aura said.

Sweet Leaf huffed from what had become a progressively more slouched forward position, envious of the detective’s relaxed and decidedly uncuffed position. Her eyes flicked away from the mare’s dead-set gaze to her extended wing. The pen was still being flipped back and forth between Aura’s primaries. Sweet wondered, yet again, if the mare had sat back and given up all pretense of hiding playing with the thing just to aggravate her.

If she was being honest with herself, it was working. Really well.

There were also all the little inconsistencies Aura had thrown into the stories she’d taken from Roast and Firefly was getting really fed up with it. Had already gotten really fed up with it.

“I’d like to go on to something a little different, if you don’t mind.” Aura leaned forward, not taking her eyes off Sweet’s. “Tell me about Roast’s love for you. What’s that like?”

“What his love is like?” Sweet Leaf asked, holding back a huff at the simple nod she received in response. I bet you asked Roast the same question. In fact, I bet you wanna know what it’s like, huh? Sweet Leaf kept the jab to herself and sighed, trying to sit up as straight as the cuffs would allow. Come on, Firefly, stop it. Don’t let her get to you.

“I guess,” Sweet began, “you could say it’s… sweet. And dedicated. He’s always looking out for me and will unwaveringly defend me if he thinks somepony’s even so much as giving me a hard time. It can get a little tiring sometimes, but in the end, all he wants is to do is make sure I’m happy and protected. He’s always concerned about my feelings and wants to do whatever he can to put a smile on my face. Inside, I get a little frustrated at him for it, but…” she sighed again, “he tries so hard at everything that I can’t help but let him do it.”

“Mhm,” Aura hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like an interesting relationship. You know, they say communication is key to a good marriage.”

Firefly bristled. “Yeah, like y—” she snapped her jaw shut. No! Get a hold of yourself! Do not get into a fight. Sweet Leaf doesn’t have a reason to defend herself against this mare.

“Yeah,” Sweet Leaf started again, making sure to keep her tone calm, “Roast and I had just talked about something like that this morning, in fact.”

“Really?” Aura smiled. “That’s good. Though, I’m also interested in the reverse. How would you describe your love for him?”

Firefly clenched her jaw and stared at that stupid, smug little smile on her face. She should have expected the question, but the matter Firefly found most shameful was she hadn’t ever really thought about it. So many of the last several months had she spent trying to deny her own feelings that she had no name or description for the love she now felt.

She loved him and… that was it.

Changelings were supposed to be the experts. They knew all sorts of love, from familial to friendly to romantic to lustful. And yet, here she was, struggling to find even a single thing to say. 

Say something, don’t just sit there! Make something up if you have to!

She loosened her jaw and took a deep breath. “I… can I be honest with you?”

Aura raised her eyebrow yet again. “Certainly. Truth is what I value, after all.”

Sweet Leaf closed her eyes for a short moment before looking back at the mare in front of her. “I love him. He’s the most amazing stallion I ever could have asked for. He takes care of me, loves me, comforts me and…” What are you doing? Firefly sighed, wishing she knew. “And for the last long while, I’d been taking him for granted.

“He treats me like a princess and It’s so easy to fall into that sweet, giving, loving embrace that I’d gotten caught up and forgot it’s more than a one way street. Sure, I do my part as his wife. I hold him when he’s sad and I celebrate with him when he’s happy. I take him out to dinner and I take my turn cooking breakfast.

“Then I realized all I was doing was going through the motions. We love each other and we both know there’s no other we’d rather be with, but I’d lost that emotional commitment. I loved him, but I loved him because I loved him.”

She shook her head. “And that wasn’t okay. I had decided it was time to go all in and I began to love him. I shared myself with him, truly, and we talked. Oh stars did we talk. I made sure to communicate my feelings, but also listened to his. Guilt wracked me for the terrible pony I’d been, but he comforted it away, like he always does. He’d been feeling it too and he was so glad I’d come to h-him.” She took in a shaky breath as she felt a cursed tear drip down her cheek. “It started getting better after that. It was like a veil had been lifted and all that was left was… us, being with each other.”

Firefly stared right back at Aura and for the briefest of moments, the mare’s eyes flicked away and sympathy dripped from her.

Don’t take him from me. Let me make that story true. Please.

“So, to answer your question. He’s my world and I can’t imagine a life without him. I would do anything for him.”

And then the moment passed.

The sympathy disappeared and Aura’s eyes locked right back on hers.

“That’s… quite the story, I have to admit. But, to return your honesty in kind, I’ve grown rather tired of this game.”

Firefly narrowed her eyes at her and the sudden conviction the mare felt. And her breath nearly caught in her throat.

Roast! His unmistakable… everything came flooding from the observation room. Love, sadness, anger, despair, rage. Do not react! He is not there, Firefly!

“Did you feel that?” The mare’s mouth turned back up into that stupid, smug smile. “They just brought Fine Roast in. I want him to see this, to see what’s hiding behind that face.”

Aura looked to her side and reached down with a wing, a click sounding in the room. She pulled her wing back up, her smile growing wider.

And Firefly’s heart seized.

In her wings was the present box. The one she’d hoped against hope they wouldn’t find. She watched as Aura took off the lid and pulled out an evidence bag, tossing it on to the table in front of her, all the very familiar crystals clattering together.

“You know what these are, don’t you?”

Firefly shook her head, trying as much to shake away the deluge from Roast. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Are you sure, changeling?” Aura said, resolution and conviction suddenly flowing freely from her. “Because your acting has been superb, but your heart betrays you.”

“I said I don’t know what they are.” Roast, please! Stop!

Aura chuckled. “Ah, wordplay. Well, go ahead then. I’m very interested to hear this.”

“They’re Bobby Pin’s,” Sweet Leaf’s mouth provided as her brain was flooded with even more of Roast’s rage. But suddenly, the rage was cut off and in its place was the most agonizing, heart wrenching anguish Firefly had felt from anyone.

And for a fraction of a second, her eyes flicked over to the observation window.

Ice ran down Firefly’s spine as she saw Aura’s eyes narrow and her smirk grow ever so slightly larger. Confidence and resolution began spilling from the detective.

Don’t stop! They haven’t taken you away yet. Fight. For him.

“S-she brought them to me about a month ago. Said they were gifts for Wavy Palette and asked if I could put them somewhere safe, somewhere that even Roast wouldn’t find. She said she wanted it to be an absolute surprise. Maybe… maybe those are what she wanted that night.”

The smirk stayed plastered on the detective’s face as she shook her head. “The things we say to get out of trouble. Well, it’s been—” she cut herself off and narrowed her eyes, before letting out a deep sigh and plucking out her earpiece. “You’ll have to excuse me. Your—Roast just vomited in the observation room.”

Aura stood and turned around, opening the door and leaving, closing it behind her.

Firefly simply stared at the door. So much did she wish she could break down, but she had no doubt they were still watching her. Instead, she looked away, down at the table, at her bound hooves, at the folder.

She nearly chuckled. She’d been through something like this before in training, but it had been easy back then. All she had to do was act, with the only consequences being a failed test.

But now… Now she had something to lose, something very real and dear to her. Before today, she’d thought something like this would be easy. All she had to do was follow her training, put on a good show, and then she’d walk out with Roast at her side.

She’d been at this for six years, but not a single moment in those years prepared her for being in love. 

Nor for the utter terror at the reality that she could lose it.

This wasn’t merely not easy; it was impossible. The game had been rigged from the start.

She knows. There’s no way she doesn’t. The interrogation was never about my past, it was all about how I reacted and it started the moment those guards walked into the cafe. And with that last blunder...

Cool finality washed over her and her body calmed. They’d dragged her into this game and she lost. It didn’t matter anymore. She just wanted it to be over with.

There was still a chance. A tiny, insignificant, shred of a chance that she hadn’t completely failed. That she could get away.

She steeled herself and, for that chance to hold him again, no matter how small, she held strong.

But yet, minutes passed and there was nothing. No interrogator, no emotions, nothing. And yet still, her forelegs continued to protest.

“Um, excuse me?” Sweet Leaf called out to the empty room. “Would I be able to have my forelegs unlatched? It’s getting really uncomfortable.”

She waited. After a long moment, nothing. Were they ignoring her or was the situation with Roast that big of a deal?

Before she could begin thinking up possibilities, the interrogation room door clicked open. Sweet Leaf looked up to see the guard come in. They all looked the same to her, so she had no idea who it was.

“We can unlatch you from the table until Miss Aura comes back,” the distinct voice of Lieutenant Steel said. “But when she returns, we will have to secure you again.”

“Sure, that makes sense.” She gave him the best smile she could muster. Though, “Miss” Aura? So she’s single, or at least unmarried. Interesting, but rather pointless knowledge, now.

Sweet Leaf watched as the lieutenant grabbed the folder, crystals, box, and briefcase in his magic before levitating a key up to the latch and unlocking it. She pulled her hooves back to her lap and rolled her shoulders.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Steel.”

He merely looked at her for a moment before nodding and turning away, leaving the room and closing the door.

There she sat, glad to at least relax her arms. She would have liked to stand or do anything but sit on her sore flank, really, but she had no desire to push her luck any further than she already had.

And so, with nothing else to do, she waited.





More time passed, what had to have been at least half an hour or more, and still no sign of Aura. Or any of the guards, for that matter. Pointedly, she’d tried her hardest to keep from thinking of what was happening. She still had the heart rate monitor on and she had no desire to give them any more reason to suspect her than the mountain they already had.

Plus, there was far too little information to go on for her to make an educated guess. Roast was upset, then he threw up. Aura left the room to go… check on him. Did he have to be taken to the hospital? Was this all a ruse? Were they getting ready to take her away? She didn’t know.

And you’re speculating again. Firefly sighed through her nose and tried, yet again, to think of nothing. Except when one thinks of nothing, they usually end up thinking about what they’re trying not to.

But then her ears perked up at the sound of a loud clang from the hall. Muffled voices sounded from outside the door and she went as still as she could, listening.

“...doing out here?”

Aura? Firefly thought, trying not to let the surprise show. The anger, determination, resolve, that just barely made it through the walls was… well, Firefly found the implications quite frightening, except none of it showed through the detective’s muffled voice.

The guard outside responded, but it was far too low for Firefly to hear more than garbled talk.

“Well, let me in,” Aura said, her voice much louder. “I’ve only got a couple more things I need from her.”

More unintelligible words from the guard and Sweet Leaf mentally growled at the half a conversation she was getting.

“That’s not necessary. Just come in with me and you can tackle her or whatever you want if she tries anything.”

A moment later, the door opened and the guard entered. In the doorway, stood Aura. Physically, all she was doing was looking at Firefly with slightly narrowed eyes. But, underneath…

So many emotions poured from her. Determination, confusion, resolve, anger, frustration and it was all Firefly could do to keep herself from tensing up. 

Aura strode into the room, straight up to the table, and placed both her forehooves onto the table with a clop, her eyes flicking back and forth between Firefly’s own.

In a voice low, almost a growl, she spoke, “Do you love him?”

“W-what?” Firefly stammered, completely unprepared for that question.

“Do. You. Love. Him?” Aura narrowed her eyes.

Firefly couldn’t keep from clenching her jaw. I don’t know what she wants! What is she looking for?! How do I respond?!

“Answer me!” Aura stomped her hoof on the table.

“Miss Aura, I think—”

“Shut up,” Aura snapped at the guard before focusing right back on Firefly.

“Do you love him?” Aura repeated, softer, though her emotions hadn’t changed a single bit.

Firefly swallowed and opened her mouth. “Yes. I love him. I love him more than anything. I would go to the ends of Equestria and back just to feel his embrace.”

Aura simply continued to stare and Firefly clenched her jaw, staring right back. A long moment passed before Aura huffed out her nose, her eyes flicking down from Firefly’s as fatigue and finality became the forefront of the detective’s simmering emotions. “Fine,” she stepped back off the table and turned to the guard. “I’m done. Take her back to her cell.”

“But, ma’am, I need approval from Lieutenant—”

“Lieutenant Steel is occupied with her husband at the moment and I assure you, private, that the lieutenant trusts me and my direction. Return her to her cell.”

The guard looked at her for a short moment before pursing his lips and nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

Aura turned and went out the door without another word, heading left.

The guard stepped to Firefly. “Please raise your hooves, miss.”

Firefly complied as he reached forward and fumbled his hooves around the strap on her chest. A short moment later, it snapped open and he stepped back, pulling it with him and setting it down next to the observation wall. 

“Please get up and exit the room to the right.” The guard pointed a hoof to the door.

Firefly nodded and stood up, shuffling to the door. As she crossed the border into the hall, she peered left and her eyes grew wide in surprise.

There, standing at the end of the hall with the barred door open was Aura, looking back at her.

Their eyes locked. So many emotions were spilling from the mare, one after another, and Firefly couldn’t even begin to guess what was going through her mind.

Soon, an eternity spread across that mere half moment passed and the detective merely gave a tiny nod before turning away down the hall, the door clangling shut behind her.

“Please keep moving, miss.”

“R-right.” Firefly nodded and continued down the hall, following the same path back to the cell hall. Her body walked on as she stared into nothingness. The private let her through the door separating the halls and then into the same first cell on the right.

The cell door clanged shut behind her and immediately, exhaustion pulled at everything she had left. She stumbled to the bed, uncaring about the uncomfortable hoofcuffs or the binding wing cages and dragged herself onto the bed.

She was so tired as she laid there, away from the door. But her mind wouldn’t give her the reprieve of sleep. She put her head in her hooves. 

What did she want? Did I say the right thing or did I just confirm everything? What could I have done? Was there even anything I could have done? I don’t understand!

Firefly raised her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She held it until it forced its way back out as a shaky exhale. Her jaw trembled and tears filled her eyes.

It was all too much.

A throaty gasp tore from her and her eyes drew wide open as she realized. The guards!

With as much subtlety as she could, she leaned her head down and wiped the wetness off her cheek. Clenching her jaw, she stuffed the overwhelmingness back as far as it would go and tried to naturally shift herself so her forehooves hung off the bed.

Glancing left, the tension fell and a flicker of hope drew into her. No guards. They hadn’t posted anypony outside her cell and she’d been so distracted that she mustn't have heard the private leave.

She drew in tight as a shiver ran its way through her body and closed her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. No need to put on an act. At least for now until they made their determination. Would they send her to Canterlot? Experiment on her?

Opening her eyes, she looked over at the bars of the cell door. Even with the amount of love Roast blessed her with, it couldn’t compensate for the kind of mass reduction she’d need to fit through those bars. And if they were certain she was a changeling, there was no way they’d transfer her with as small of a group as they did that morning. Though there was one thing she was certain of.

She’d lost.

Unless Skitter could get some infiltrators to come for her in the next few days, there was no hope.

A distant clang rang out and her ears flicked to the hallway as her heart skipped a beat. The hoofsteps came closer and dread filled her as the hall door around the corner clunked and squeaked open.

She rose and stepped off the bed. Gathering as much courage as she could muster, she turned and faced the cell door just in time for a pair of stallion and mare guards to come around the corner.

“Sweet Leaf?” Lieutenant Steel said, facing the cell as the other guard stood back near the opposite side of the hall. He looked her in the eyes before smiling and levitating out his keys.

Confusion filled her as he inserted the key into the lock. A clunk resounded and he pulled the cell door open.

“You’re free to go.”

A strangled gasp caught in her throat and she quickly pushed it down with a hard swallow. “I, uh, w-what?” She quite ineloquently sputtered.

“You’re free to go,” he repeated, maintaining his smile. “I apologize deeply for what we’ve put you through today. Miss Aura’s findings confirmed your identity and we have no reason to hold you here.”

Firefly’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t find any words. She’d been so sure…

“Unless you’d like to stay.” Steel gave her a lopsided grin. “I have a lot of paperwork to do tonight and I could use some company.”

“N-no!” she exclaimed, blushing as he let out a hearty laugh. “I mean, I was surprised that you were able to make the determination so soon. I thought there would be more… well, bureaucracy involved.”

“Thankfully, no.” He shook his head, stepping into the cell. “Let me see your hooves, please.”

She sat back and held them out.

“Honestly,” he continued, levitating a key to unlock her cuffs, “it was a huge deal even getting the mayor to agree to the warrant in the first place. And, in the end, I guess his concerns did have some merit.” He hooked the cuffs onto his belt and made a little swirl with his hoof. “Turn around so I can get those wing binders off you.”

Silently, she complied, too afraid to say anything in case it would shatter the reality of the moment. She heard the cages click before feeling them slide off.

She turned as she heard him step back into the hallway.

“Again, I’m really sorry for the rough treatment,” he said, giving her a sympathetic smile and holding his hoof out down the hall. “Please, let’s get you out of here. Your husband is currently waiting in the main lobby and we have a carriage arranged to take you home.”

“Alright. Sure.” Firefly nodded. She wanted to know how. And why. But the thought of seeing him overrode all her thoughts. The lieutenant stepped forward and she followed at his side as he began walking down the hall.

“I’m sure you’d like to get home, so I’ll talk as we walk,” he began as they passed through the open door separating the hall. “I’ve already spoken to Roast about this, but I’d like to inform you as well. We understand that taking you and your husband away from your work in the middle of the day caused a significant loss of income for your business. Please stop by the front office on Monday and they’ll give you a form for reimbursement. We’ll cover…”

Firefly half listened to him as they passed the observation rooms and through the same door Aura had stopped at. She breathed deep, turning left with Steel, trying to keep the wetness out of her eyes.

Closed office doors passed on both sides and then a waiting room alcove on the left. They turned right at the waiting area. Her eyes snapped to the sign hanging from the ceiling, seeing a right arrow and next to it were the only words that mattered.

Main Lobby.

More closed office doors, more unheard words from Steel, and then that final right. As they walked steadily towards that last door, the door labeled “EXIT”, she wanted nothing more than to sprint and burst through to find her love. But she held her gait and breaths steady. 

Doors and more doors passed and had the sudden fear that this was just some cruel trick. That somepony would jump out of one of the rooms, crying out that she was a fake and they’d take her away. But the doors remained closed.

Her heart hammered away in her chest as three sets of doors were left.

Two remaining.

One…

Then they were there, standing in front of the door.

She watched as Steel held a hoof forward, twisted the handle, and pushed the door open.

Firefly gazed into the empty seats of the half of the lobby she could see. Her heart continued to tear away in her chest as she took a step and another and peered around the corner.

And there he was. The only one in the lobby.

Her eyes threatened to spill tears as he stood and locked eyes with her, love and adoration and care and joy and love.

She took one measured step after another.

Don’t run. Don’t run.

Five steps.

Four.

Two.

One.

They stopped and looked each other in the eyes. He smiled and tears spilled down his cheeks.

He rushed forward and swept her up in a hug.

“Sweet Leaf. Oh, Sweet Leaf. My Sweet.”

“Roast.” Tears rolled down her own cheeks, uncaring who was watching. “My love.”

A long moment passed as they held each other, basking in the warmth of their mate.

Sweet Leaf loosened her grip and he followed, pulling back from her.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him one more tear filled smile before turning around to see Lieutenant Steel. “We’re ready.”

“Of course.” The lieutenant stepped away from the door and walked around the couple to the main door. “We have a carriage waiting just outside.”

They followed him into the evening air, the sky a beautiful, streaking orange from the setting sun. Ahead was a carriage, pulled by two guards. She watched Lieutenant Steel stop at the side and pull open the door.

“Here you are,” Steel said. “Please remember to visit the front office at some point during the week to fill out reimbursement forms.”

Sweet Leaf felt herself nod and step forward to the carriage. Up she stepped and down she sat, taking the seat at the far end. Looking back, she couldn’t help but smile as Fine Roast finished climbing in and sat next to her.

“I wish you both a good night,” Lieutenant Steel said from outside the carriage.

“Thank you. You as well,” Roast spoke up.

The door swung closed and clicked shut. A moment later, the carriage jerked forward.

Sweet Leaf looked into the eyes of her love and she adored him as he stared back, seeking out her hoof with his own. It was like a dream and she couldn’t believe he was here, with her again. She wanted to say so many things. How much he meant to her. How happy she was to see him.

Instead, her mind said the only thing her mouth could get out.

“H-hi.”

He smiled even brighter. “Hi.”

“I lo—” A choke cut her off and a shaky breath was all she could muster, tears spilling down her face.

“I know. I love you too.” He scooted closer and wrapped her in his warm, loving arms. “I love you, more than anything.”
> Act I ~ Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warmth greeted him from underneath their cozy blankets. He sucked in deep and stretched, his legs stiffening out and back arching. A few moments later, he relaxed and let out a long, near-silent groan as he slowly opened his eyes. Looking out at the clock on his nightstand, he read four forty-two.

Eight minutes before the alarm, Roast huffed. Normally, he’d be happily getting up and out of bed, ready to get started on the day. But today, all he wanted to do was sleep in. It was Saturday, which meant the cafe opened an hour later than the rest of the week. Though that extra time was usually used to prepare baked goods for the day. Ponies tended to indulge more on the weekend, after all.

The customers would have to temper their sweet tooths a little, but given yesterday, maybe tucking in for an extra hour wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Plus, he sleepily chuckled, Sweet could always use extra sleep.

Decision made, he pulled his hoof out from under the blankets, giving a shiver at the cool morning air as he grabbed his alarm clock. Flipping the clock over in the low light of their bedroom’s night light, he clicked the hour wheel up one and set it back on the nightstand. He smiled a little before carefully shifting, softly turning over so as not to wake his love.

The grin on his face fell and concern overtook him as his wife came into view.

Normally, she’d have a bit of bedmane, but her frazzled hair looked like she’d been tossing and turning all night. He reached a hoof out and brushed aside the locks of mane that covered half of her face.

His frown deepened at her own. Her sleep didn’t look peaceful in the slightest. The corners of her mouth were pulled down and her eyes quickly flicked back and forth beneath their lids.

She needs more than an hour, Roast amended his decision. She’ll get the whole morning, if that’s what it takes.

Just as carefully as before, he turned himself over and scooted out of bed, softly setting his hooves on the hard floor. He made his way out of their bedroom to the hall as quietly as he could, turning around and grabbing the door handle before taking one last look inside. His heart clenched at the sight of her and he found the hate from the observation room bubbling up again. 

They had hurt her.

Maybe not physically, but the amount of stress and fear they put her through was more than enough to make Roast irate. When they’d finally got back together the night before, Sweet had cried in the lobby and once they’d arrived home, she had been so tired that all she wanted to do was fall asleep in his forelegs.

But… Roast sighed deeply as he closed the door, they’re not the only ones to blame.

He turned and walked down the hall and into his office. Tapping the light switch on, he headed straight ahead to his desk before sitting down.

In the end, we made it through. He hung his head. But I should have been stronger. I should have been more careful. I wasn’t good enough to protect her. Until the very end, everything I did only made things worse. Even then, the only thing I could do was whimper and grovel and beg.

Roast shook his head. I can’t do this. What if it happens again? I don’t want to be uselessly flailing about. I need her help. I need to know how to do better. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to taper off his anger and frustration. But that won’t matter if she’s dead on her hooves.

Straightening up in his seat, he reached up and grabbed a piece of paper. He took a marker from his pen tray and wrote.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the cafe is closed for the day. We will be open again, bright and early on Monday morning. We are very sorry for the inconvenience.

~Sweet Leaf and Fine Roast

Reading it over, he ended their signature with a little heart and nodded his approval. Capping the marker and putting it back in the tray, he pulled out a roll of tape, ripped off a couple pieces, and applied the strips to the paper’s blank side.

Taking the sign in his mouth, he stood and walked out to the hall and down the stairs. Past the kitchen and into the dining area, he trotted over to the main entrance. The sight through the door’s window gave him pause.

It was pouring rain.

Taking the paper out of his mouth, he frowned. He hadn’t checked the paper yesterday and had forgotten the pegasi had scheduled a downpour for the whole day. Closing up wouldn’t hurt business as bad as it would on a dry day, but he couldn't help feeling extra bad. There would be lots of poor ponies that would make their way to the cafe, only to find their trip was in vain.

Hesitating, he looked down and reread his writing.

He felt most guilty about the ponies that made the cafe a staple of their mornings. If he put the sign up, that would be the third day in the past week that they had either shut down early or were closed entirely. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that some of them might find a new cafe to frequent.

But, in the end, he sighed and pressed the sign to the window, smoothing it out. Taking care of their customers was necessary to maintain business, but…

His wife was more important and he’d choose her every time.

Giving the sign one last apologetic look, he turned and headed back to the kitchen and up the stairs. He came up to their bedroom and raised a hoof to the door handle, softly twisting it with a quiet click before pushing the door open.

He stepped into the room and his eyes trailed over to the bed. She was still there on her side, mane still as mussed as when he left. Pausing in the doorway, he tapped a hoof on his chin.

Hm, maybe I can cook her breakfast later. I bet some nice eggs and toast in bed would make her morning.

Happy with his plan for later, he carefully tiphooved to his nightstand and picked up his alarm. Flicking the switch off and setting it back, he took a single step over and pulled his side of the covers down. He stepped both left hooves onto the mattress before lying down, bringing his right hooves up and shimmying his way under the blankets.

He froze mid pull of the covers as a sharp inhale and groan came from the other side of the bed.

“Ergh, is it time already?” Sweet Leaf groggily spoke.

Aw, horseapples. Roast nearly grunted his disappointment in himself as he pulled the blankets all the way up and laid down. “No, sweetheart. I just had to get up for a minute.”

“Mmm, m’kay,” his beautiful wife groused as she turned herself over and curled up tighter under the blankets.

Roast scooted over and wrapped a hoof around her shoulder, pulling himself lightly against her back and wings. He shut his eyes and buried his muzzle in her mane, breathing deep the very particular and familiar scent of his wife. With any luck, she’d get right back to sleep and he’d follow right after.

But yet, a moment later, Sweet Leaf’s mane tickled his snout as she leaned up.

“Roast,” Sweet’s tired voice intoned, “it’s just after five.”

“Yes, it is,” he evenly replied, hoof still laying on her shoulder.

“We need to get up.”

“No, it’s okay. We don’t need to.” Roast gave her a little loving squeeze. “You looked exhausted, so I decided to close the cafe today so you could get some more sleep.”

“You decided?” Sweet Leaf retorted, turning over and facing him.

His pleasant smile quickly soured as his wife’s frown came into view. She settled down on the bed and his stomach tightened as her half lidded eyes tiredly moved back and forth between his.

“What do you mean ‘you decided?’” She chided. “Roast, we own the cafe together and we’re husband and wife.”

“I… yes, I know, but I was trying to help you. After everything that happened yesterday, I thought it would be good to sleep in.”

A deep sigh came from Sweet Leaf as slowly blinked and took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t need—I’m not…” she let out a low growl and rubbed a hoof along her face. “Yes, you’re right. I really could use some more sleep. I’m not in the right mind to discuss this right now. We can talk about it later, okay?”

He searched her eyes in return. I don’t understand. I’ve closed up the cafe before and she didn’t have a problem then. Why now?

“Are you… upset?” he chanced.

Sweet gave another tired sigh. “Yes.” She shook her head. “No. I mean… ugh. Remember when I said I was trying to figure out my feelings?”

Roast nodded and couldn’t help the rising feeling of guilt. That’s right we never did get to have our talk.

“It’s about that. I’m not upset with you, well, I am or was, but…” she groaned again. “I’m not awake enough to talk about this. Can we go back to sleep and deal with this later, please?”

“Of course.” He gave her the best smile he could manage, even if his mouth wanted to keep doing the opposite. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry."

“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.” She returned his smile before laying her head down on the pillow and closing her eyes.

He did the same, but a frown took over his face again at the discomfort of facing her. Instead, he turned over and settled back down. Even if he didn’t actually hurt her, it still stung to know he’d done something to upset her.

“Roast?” Sweet quietly asked before he felt a hoof on his side.

“Yes?” He was torn between laying there and doing the husbandly thing to turn over to face her as she talked.

“Thank you for thinking of me.”

The sentiment helped ease his mind, if only a tiny bit. “You’re welcome.”

He laid there, closing his eyes and trying to find sleep. For a long few moments, he fought his treacherous mind as it tried to remind him of every little thing he might have said or done to offend her.

Sheets rustling behind him interrupted his thoughts. Right as he began to turn himself around, he felt his wife wrap a hoof around his side and her body snuggle close to his back.

A smile came unbidden onto his face and he reached a hoof to lay on hers.

Together, it was easier to ignore those thoughts and, a couple minutes later, his hoof fell back to the bed as sleep claimed him.





The strong scent of coffee and baked goods greeted his nose. He inhaled deeply and began his morning stretch. Slowly, his eyes opened and he took in the empty half of his wife’s side of the bed.

He scrunched his eyes tight. Ugh, what—

His eyes shot open. Wait, coffee? She didn’t… did she? He quickly turned over and checked his clock. Almost ten-thirty? Sweet Celestia, I slept for that long?

The scent of coffee came again and his eyes trailed over to the open bedroom door. He couldn't hear the clamor of voices and utensils, but that only placated him the tiniest bit.

Pursing his lips, he pulled the covers back and got out of bed before walking to the door. As he reached the hall, he realized the smell and sounds seemed to be coming from the left, towards their apartment’s kitchen and not from the cafe downstairs.

Oh come on, he rolled his eyes. That’s almost just as bad.

Making his way down the hall, the smell grew stronger and as he entered the kitchen, he saw his wife standing at a counter on the far wall. He noted her mane looked much less tangled than it had earlier that morning, but it was still unkempt. His eyes flicked to the two trays with full plates and glasses in front of her. As he opened his mouth, she turned around and looked right at him.

“Honey?” Sweet Leaf asked. “Aw, shoot. I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door.”

“Opened the door?” Roast asked, his sleep addled mind still struggling to process complex ideas.

“Yeah. I was about to bring these trays,” she glanced behind her and pointed a wing to the rectangular platters, “into the room for some breakfast in bed.”

“Ugh. I knew it,” he grumbled.

She furrowed her brows. “Knew it? What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

He raised an eyebrow at her in return. “You can’t read minds, can you?”

“Uh, no…?” She half answered, tilting her head.

Roast merely gave a little frustrated sigh. “Because I was planning on making you breakfast in bed after I woke up.”

Sweet Leaf straightened and gave him a sympathetic frown. “Oh. I’m sorry. I woke up an hour or so ago and I got kind of hungry. I thought it would be nice to make us some food.” She nodded behind herself. “Which is ready, if you are.”

“I suppose so, sure. Can we eat at the table, though? I don’t think my back would like being hunched over in bed right now.”

“Sure!” She brightened up and turned around, grabbing a tray in either wing.

He turned and walked to the table, sitting down at his normal spot on the right side, facing the hallway. Looking over, he watched as his wife placed a tray in front of him and set her own at the end of the table. Turning his attention back to his tray, he saw an array of food. Fruit, eggs, a bagel with cream cheese, a couple veggie patties, and some orange juice.

His gaze moved back to Sweet as she finished sitting and pulled her chair in. “Thank you for the food, Sweetie.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled back at him.

He grabbed his fork and knife with both hooves’ gripping fields and saw his wife do the same with her wings. A stray thought ran through his mind and he paused. “Wait a second, I just realized” he interjected, causing his wife to pause mid cut through her over easy egg. “You’re a changeling.”

“Um… yes?” Sweet raised an eyebrow at him for the second time that morning.

“I thought changelings ate, erm, love?” he half asked.

“Ah. I think I understand.” She finished cutting her egg before stabbing a slice of toast in her fork and mopping up the spilt yolk. “We do, but that’s not the only thing we need. A lot of mares would be hesitant to eat a lot of this, right?” she wiggled her skewered toast before putting it in her mouth.

“Well,” Sweet Leaf said as she chewed and then swallowed her bite, “I can eat as much as I want. See, changelings can’t process carbohydrates like ponies can. But we still need protein and fats.” She took another bite.

“Huh.” Roast grabbed a half slice of bagel. “Then why eat it?” he asked, taking his first bite.

“Simple answer?” Sweet Leaf shrugged, still chewing. “‘Cause it tastes good.”

Fine Roast smiled and huffed in amusement. “That’s fair, I suppose.”

Slowly his smile dropped as he began eating his own meal and silence seemed to reign. In the back of his mind, he knew they still needed to talk and couldn’t help but wonder if she was still upset at him.

He glanced over at her and as she glanced back, he gave her a little smile, both of their mouths busy. He turned back to his own meal, mentally sighing. What I wouldn’t give to be able to know what she’s feeling.

His mind went back to the same thought he’d had more than a couple times since Sweet Leaf had said something was wrong. They hadn’t had more than maybe one or two big talks like what it felt like needed to happen now. And even those talks seemed fairly tame.

He couldn’t help but feel a little… intimidated? Afraid? Anxious? He honestly wasn’t sure what the feeling was. I wonder if she’d be able to tell me what the feeling is.

Soon enough, breakfast was over and for what was not the first time in the last few days, Roast was at a loss of what to say to his wife next.

“Would you like—”
“Do you want—”

“Sorry, you—”
“Oh, go ahe—”

“Pfft…” Roast held in a laugh, seeing a bit of amusement on Sweet Leaf’s face as well. “I don’t think we’ve fumbled over each other since before we got married.”

“Yeah,” Sweet giggled, though it didn’t have the same jovial ring that her giggles usually had. “This is really silly.”

He watched as her smile slowly dropped and saw her take a deep breath, holding it for a couple seconds, before letting it out long and slow. Her eyes met his again.

“I know you’re a little nervous about this and, well, so am I. But it’s just us,” she reached out and set a hoof on his, “only you and I. We don’t need to be afraid of each other, right?”

“Yeah.” He gave her as confident a smile as he could. “You’re right. We don’t.”

Sweet Leaf’s smile wavered for a moment before it dropped entirely, another sigh escaping her lips. “And yet we still are. Here, how about this. If you wouldn’t mind cleaning up the dishes, I’ll go take a shower. Then you can do the same after I’m done. But,” she squeezed his hoof and looked him in the eyes, “let’s keep in mind that both of us want to work this out and neither of us want to hurt the other or leave. Okay?”

His smile was much less forced this time. “Alright, yeah. I think we can manage that.”

“Good.” She returned his smile and squeezed his hoof once more before pulling it away. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

He watched her scoot her chair back and turn to walk down the hall. Right. We both want the same thing. We’re just a normal couple trying to work out an issue. It’ll be okay.

With reassurance in hoof, he stood up and got to work with the dishes, stacking them and carrying them over to the sink. As the soapy dishes began piling up, he tried to pin down exactly why he was so nervous. He knew nothing bad would come of this talk, but even still there were those lingering ‘what ifs.’

She’d love him no matter what was brought up, he knew this. But that did nothing to ease his nervousness. Losing her love wasn’t it. They were going to talk to resolve an issue, so her ending up angry at him wasn’t it either.

He huffed in frustration as he side stepped to the other side of the sink and began rinsing. I don’t know what it is! And that’s so… aggravating!

Then he froze as it hit him.

Or at least part of it did. His eyes stayed locked onto the warm water rushing over his still hooves. He didn’t know what the problem was and the idea of that resonated with the anxiety in his heart.

The unknown was scary. 

Not knowing what the issue was or even what he was doing wrong was hard to deal with. There was no way to plan for or find a solution if he didn’t know what she was upset about in the first place. The only thing to do was…

Trust her.

Trust. The word rang out in his mind as he began rinsing the dishes again and setting them on the rack to dry. That word, that concept seemed to keep rearing its head lately, ever since, well, since he’d confronted her about who she was.

But, he scrunched his brows in thought, that’s not quite right. I’ve been trusting her for years. It’s only now that I’ve been thinking about it.

That I’ve been questioning it.

The realization hit him harder than even her anger at him earlier in the morning had. He placed the last fork on the drying rack, shut off the water, and sat down right where he was. A frown had overtaken his face at some point, he noticed, and it felt fitting.

Does this… make me a bad husband? Does keeping her happy and safe even matter if I can’t stop questioning my trust in her?

It seemed so much easier before he confronted her about what she was. Everything was smooth and pleasant. There’d been hardly any fights and he’d been confident in her and her judgment. He was able to stand up for her and nuzzle her safe and sound afterward.

For a split second, before he could catch himself, he wished they could go back to that.

Roast vigorously shook his head. No! I will not stand for wanting to take the coward’s way out. I will handle this.

He stood and turned to the hallway. We will get through this. Together.





Fine Roast stood on the cold, bathroom tile. With his mane freshly dried and brushed, he took a deep breath and opened the door, letting the warm steam flood into their bedroom.

Sweet Leaf wasn’t there, he noticed as he stepped through the doorway. Continuing through the bedroom, he walked down the hall, deeper into the upstairs living area. His office light was off, but the light spilling into the hall from their living room caught his attention.

His hooves clopped along the hardwood floor as he took the last few steps to the doorless frame. Turning into the room, there she was.

From the back side of the couch, he saw her sitting on the far side, facing away. Into the room he stepped, coming around the couch, her head turning as he took a seat on the opposite side.

“Did you have a nice shower?” Sweet Leaf asked, giving him a little smile as he settled down.

“Yeah, it was pretty nice, same as any other.” Roast replied, returning her a smile of his own.

“That’s good.” She looked away, towards the fireplace past the coffee table in front of them.

He couldn't help but feel kind of awkward. How was one supposed to start these kinds of conversations anyway? Just jump right in? It seemed impertinent to be so blunt. Maybe he could—

“So I figured out why I’ve been frustrated with you.”

Or his wife could jump right into the deep end. “Ah,” Roast lamely ah’d. “And, uh, why is that?”

She sighed, staring down at the coffee table in front of them. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and it’s… a few things, honestly. But, before Wavy Palette started this fiasco, I’d been trying to figure out how to even talk about them. I think I've realized I need to explain more about me and the changelings so you can… understand.”

About her? And her species? Roast furrowed his brow. Thoughts of double agents and back-alley deals filled his mind before he could reign it in. “Alright.”

She took a deep breath. “So, I’m what you call a ‘collector,’ and you, the special somepony to a collector, are what we call a ‘source.’” Sweet Leaf began, turning to look at him. “After we finish our primary education, we move on to specialties. There are all kinds: collectors, gatherers, workers, transporters, couriers, and lots more. Many serve special functions while some are more multi-purpose, like workers. Each specialty has its own training.”

Roast simply nodded, trying to take in every bit of the other half of his wife's life.

“Right, so, collectors. Our job is to, well, collect love. We find a pony that has the potential for a relationship, feel them out, and, if the prospect is promising, we try to get to know them and begin to form a more romantic relationship.

“Or, at least that’s what I did with you.”

“Right,” Roast repeated, nodding again. “I think I gathered that bit from our conversation the first night.”

“Yeah…” She trailed off, looking away. “The, uh, other method is finding somepony who’s already in a relationship. Essentially, we stalk them, learning as much as we can before we replace them or their special somepony. Those we replace go back and become part of our love supply, put into deep sleeps and made to dream of their loved ones.”

Her eyes turned away from his and she took a deep breath. “Roast, before we talk about you, there are things you need to know about me. About what I’ve done.”

Roast snapped his eyes over to her. “Sweet…” He began, but her posture gave him pause. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but gone was her confident, upright stance. Instead she seemed tense, pulled into herself as she laid there. Even her sunset colored tail was wrapped around her between them, the end settled over her forehooves.

She’s nervous? Scared? It didn’t matter which. This time, he wouldn’t let hesitation keep him from his duties.

He shuffled over and, with the same gesture she often liked to do, he laid a hoof on top of her tail covered one. “I already told you, I don’t care what you did before. It’s who you are now that matters to me.”

She simply huffed and looked at him with a strained smile. “Thank you, but I want you to know. I think you deserve it.”

He held his stare for a moment longer before breathing in and exhaling. “Alright. If that’s what you think needs to happen, then I’ll listen.”

Sweet Leaf turned back to the unlit fireplace, her mouth still closed. A long moment passed and Roast began to consider if he should do something. Even if it was only squeezing her hoof or rubbing her back. However, his indecision decided for him and he cursed himself as she began.

“You aren’t my first source,” she said, still staring away from Roast. “Before we got together, I had another stallion. Most of the inexperienced collectors usually stick to disguises of their own gender. It’s easier, most of the time, and I was no exception.

“Though, I was an exception in how I got my source. In training, they teach us it’s often best to craft a new disguise and build a relationship from the ground rather than replacing a pony. I wasn’t the best trainee in my batch, but I was no slouch either. So, I got cocky and decided I’d do my first the other way around.”

She snorted. “And I paid for it.

“Not right away, but over time things began to build up. I didn’t do a good enough job looking into the couples’ histories and I got complacent after I replaced her. Not but a year after we got together, some foalhood friends of theirs came by unexpectedly and I had no idea who they were. I salvaged it initially, but he confronted me later that night after they’d left. He wouldn’t let up about it and after some heated discussions, he started grilling me about everything.

“I couldn’t answer enough of them." She closed her eyes and after a short moment, she opened them again and continued.

“So, one fight and two days later, he was in a cocoon while the cleanup crew made their way to replace us and then disappear. The day after they took my place, I moved to a new town and started looking for a new source.”

He waited and after realizing she must have been done, he squeezed her hoof, not quite sure what to say. His wife essentially… no not essentially, he mentally shook his head. She did tear a couple apart then discard the mare’s special somepony when he was no longer of any use. He wanted to be upset at her or outraged at the love that was broken and wasted, but... she didn’t do it out of malice.

So, he stuffed all those feelings away and said the only thing he could think of. “What were their names?”

She turned to him with a wry smile that didn’t make it to her eyes. “Why, you gonna turn me in?”

Roast pulled his hoof back, giving her a deadpan look before softening. “No. What’s done is done. I was only curious.”

Sweet’s smile dropped and looked down at the floor in front of her. “Well, you already met one of them.”

He furrowed his brow, thinking through all the ponies they’d met, but none of them stood out to him. Then his eyebrows shot back up in realization. “The mare you were when you came back. Erm, Mint Something?”

“That’s the one,” she nodded, “Orange Mint. I’ll admit I wasn’t in the best of minds when I chose that disguise. It would have been a one in a million chance, but if anypony did recognize me, it would have been pretty disastrous. But, to answer the other half of your question, the stallion's name was Cherry Strudel. He worked at a bakery while his wife worked at an ice cream parlor.”

Roast tilted his head at her. “A baker then an aspiring barista? Seems a bit more than a coincidence.”

“It should. In the last couple years of collector training, each trainee is required to choose and learn a specialty. Mine was in cooking.”

“Cooking. So that’s why you make such amazing breakfasts?”

It seemed it was Sweet’s turn at giving a deadpan stare. “Yes, because eggs, toast, bagels, and some fried patties are sooo hard to make.”

“You’d be surprised,” Roast said, unfazed by her sarcasm. “My brother couldn’t be trusted with a toaster, let alone a frying pan. So, Cherry Strudel and the real Orange Mint,” he began, changing the subject back, “they’re at your hive, then?”

“Yeah,” she turned her eyes away from his again. “That’s what happens to ponies we replace and ponies who dig too deep. Or, at least, it was before the invasion.”

“Mmm,” he hummed and idly looked over to the empty fireplace, not really sure what to say next. She seemed uncomfortable talking about her previous coltfriend, so he figured that was a good topic to veer away from. Well, no better time than now to talk about why we’re here in the first place.

“So,” Roast spoke up, turning to her again, “you said I needed to know more about changelings before we could talk about why you were upset with me. Have we, well, covered enough?”

“Kind of.” She sighed before looking him in the eyes. “Roast, you asked that first morning, that if I had the choice now, if I would still replace another pony rather than creating a new disguise. My answer hasn’t changed, but I don’t feel guilty about what I did. Because of me and the dozens of other collectors across Equestria, my hive and queen are still alive.”

Roast nodded. “I know.” He remembered that conversation well and, even now, he was still pleasantly surprised he’d somehow managed to convince her to stay. 

She gave him an odd look. “You know?”

“Sweet,” Roast began, “you mentioned the same thing then, though maybe less explicitly. Well, my answer hasn’t changed either. I still love you and, while I don’t agree with what the changelings have done, I can understand it.”

Her mouth opened and closed once, then twice before she broke away from his eyes and stared down at the little bit of couch between them.

“Honey?” he asked, putting a hoof on her withers. “Is this… what you’ve been afraid of?

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, meeting his gaze again. “I suppose it’s a little silly, but that’s part of it.”

He merely smiled and ran his hoof along her shoulders and back, letting her continue when she was ready.

“After this, I’m afraid our relationship’s dynamic is going to change and I’m afraid it’s going to change for the worse.”

Roast opened his mouth to reply, but she raised a hoof to stop him.

“I know that problems can’t get solved if we don’t address them. I’m merely stating my feelings. Which, there's still another thing to mention before we get to the rest of them.”

She let out another little sigh and grimaced. “To start with a dumb statement, changelings are manipulative. It’s kind of our thing, collectors and infiltrators even more so. We’re trained in it, how to make a pony feel what we want them to feel, how to cause strife, how to prevent strife. Except, real relationships are kinda complicated.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know, another dumb statement. But collectors make those relationships less complicated, in a way. Where a partner might get frustrated with something their special somepony does, a collector can choose not to be affected.

“For us, it’s not a real relationship. It’s a job.”

Roast’s eyebrows shot up and he pulled his hoof back. It all suddenly made sense. “So, things that I’ve done that annoyed you, you’d just shrug them off?”

“Essentially.” Sweet Leaf nodded. “But there’s a little more to it than that. Not only do we shrug off annoyances, we do what we can to make you feel like the relationship is growing. We instigate fights when we feel the resulting makeup will make you feel more attached. We reasonably capitulate in arguments if it means a ‘deeper’ connection, and we resist when we think it would be more beneficial. Though, again, relationships are complicated and it doesn’t always work the way we want.

“All of that is why I’ve hardly ever shown anger or gotten into a fight with you. I never felt it was necessary.”

Humming for a short moment, he could barely remember when their last fight was. He was pretty sure it was some time early the year before. “Does this mean we’re overdue for a few fights?”

“After yesterday?” She snorted. “I don’t think I’m even remotely in the mood to fight. I imagine this talk will more than suffice.”

Roast nodded. “Right. So, you say that changelings treat relationships like a job. Except I can’t help but notice that’s not exactly what ours is.”

“No, it isn’t." Sweet Leaf shook her head. "Not now, anyway. I suppose you can thank… well, a lot of different things for that.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Hmm?”

“For one, you can thank my own incompetence.”

His raised eyebrow quickly turned into a glare. “Hey, there’s no need for that kind of self—”

“If I had been competent,” she interrupted with a raised eyebrow and a half frown, “you never would have seen me those few years back.”

Roast opened his mouth, but only tiny, half formed sounds formed his objection. A short moment later, he clicked his jaw shut and huffed. “Fine. I guess you have a point.”

“I know. And secondly, collector training was somewhat lacking in that area."

"Lacking?" Roast's eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah. There's actually a little section, maybe half a day long, about not mixing our role's feelings for our own. But no'ling, including the instructor, took it seriously. Because honestly, what kind of changeling could fall in love with a pony?"

Roast smiled and put a hoof on hers. "Well, I'm glad to have proven that wrong with you."

Her eyes swiftly rolled in her sockets. She reached her unheld hoof over and bapped him on the snoot. "You sap."

"But I'm your sap." He leaned over and nuzzled her and he felt her lean back into his snout.

A moment later, she pulled back and turned her eyes back to him. "But, I'm not the first to fall in love with one of you."

Roast pulled back as well. "Oh?"

"Mhm. I recently found out that the leader of us changelings here in Hoofington, Skitter is her name, she fell in love with her last source. Except she did the right thing and reported it as soon as she noticed. The hive instructed her to abandon him and had him sent back to the hive."

"Sounds… really coldhearted."

"A little bit. And uh," she looked at him and gave a little, sheepish grin, "she kind of knows about us already."

"What?!" Roast reeled his head back and his eyes grew wide. "What do you mean? Isn't that kind of, well, bad?"

Sweet Leaf gave a little grimace. “I would normally say ‘yes,’ but in this case it seems to be working to our advantage.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but found he didn’t quite know what to say. Instead, he merely pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I uh, well, she figured it out on her own,” She continued. “I had to tell her what happened with Wavy and Spindle, erm Bobby Pin.”

“Right, I remember you mentioning her real name. But how did that lead to Skittle or whatever figuring everything out?”

“Skitter, and,” Sweet Leaf took a deep breath and let out a long, deep sigh, “it just… snowballed out of control. I don’t know if you remember the overly enthusiastic pink mare that came by before I went off to my meeting.”

At her glance, he nodded his head. He’d dealt with interesting customers before, but that one definitely stood out.

She continued. “It seems like it had been one crisis after another and I accidentally let it show in my real emotions. He, er well, she, the pink mare, who is actually a male changeling, noticed and brought it up during that meeting. Skitter baited more emotions from me and I fell right into it."

"Oh… kay?" That did nothing to abate his concern and he was sure she could feel it. "And this isn't bad, why?"

She glanced over and gave him a stink eye. “If you’d let me finish…”

“Alright, sorry. Go ahead.” He shut his mouth and gave her a little nod.

“Thank you. As I was saying, she baited me into it, but we came to an agreement. I would try to deal with this and she would help me. By her logic, the last thing the hive needs right now is to lose yet another collector. Stars know how many we’ve lost at this point. So, I’ll be ‘working’ with her to curb my attachment to you.”

Roast hummed. It helped alleviate some of his worry, but it sounded too convenient. “And that’s that? You don’t think there will be any more baiting or anything?”

“I think it’s possible, but I’m prepared now. We’ve gone through so much already in this last week, and somehow come out on top. I don't know how it happened, but I am not going to let her be the one that takes us apart.”

Roast let out a tiny sigh. He wanted to ask ‘what if this’ and ‘what if that,’ but she was the experienced one here. He’d barely managed to fumble his way through convincing the detective.

“Though," Sweet Leaf slowly began again, "that tangent aside, all that is to say, it wasn't until recently that Sweet Leaf's feelings for you began to bleed into my own. I don't know exactly when it began, maybe half a year ago, but it started slow and I didn't realize it until I started getting jealous of myself.

"And therein lies the problem. There's a dozen reasons why it couldn't work. Ignoring the fact that my species is essentially a bunch of love sucking parasites, our relationship was built off of my acquiescence to your desires."

A heavy rock settled in his stomach. Was she lying when she said neither one of us were wanting to leave? "So," he managed with a swallow, "you're saying you don't think this can work after all?"

She shook her head and hummed in the negative. "If this had been a year or two ago, I would have absolutely said that was the case. But over time, I began to do these things because I, Firefly, wanted to do them, not just because I needed to keep appearances. I began to enjoy your touches, your caresses, and your care. But… even though I'd convinced myself that affection wasn't mine to take, those positives came with negatives as well."

The admission helped calm his nerves, but the problem still remained. "So, then, the issue is me. I've had free rein over our relationship since we got together. But, I don't really know what I'm doing wrong."

She turned and faced him on the couch, putting her hoof on his and on her face grew one of the tender smiles he loved most. "First off, the issue is us. We both have problems and we're both trying to help the other as much as ourselves. Second, there have been more than a few times when I'd give you little nudges in the direction I wanted you to go. So don't think you're the only one that had a say in this relationship. I am a manipulative little bug, after all.” She leaned in and gave him a little nuzzle.

"And finally," she pulled back, the smile still there, "you not knowing is exactly why we're here."

“Alright.” Roast took a breath and tried to return her smile. “So… then what is it? What do I need to change?”

“Honey,” Sweet Leaf squeezed his hoof, “I don’t want you to think these are deal breakers. They’re simply things we need to work on, together, okay?”

“I know, I know. I’m just still getting used to this whole thing. So, please," he looked her in the eyes, doing his best to feel the love he so brightly carried for her, "I'd like to know what's been bothering you.”

“Yeah, okay.” She took a deep breath. “The first thing I wanted to talk about is your tendency to, well, be overprotective. I love you and you make me feel special when you stand up for me. But, I am a big filly and I am able to defend myself. A lot of training made sure of that.”

“Right.” Roast nodded and broke his eyes away from hers. He didn’t want to admit it, but it did sting a little. It wasn’t like he was trying to be overprotective or smothering. She was his, just as he was hers and when someone attacked her, it was like they were attacking him.

“Hey.” Sweet squeezed his hoof again and he trailed his sight back up to her kind eyes. “Just because I don’t need you to, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to. I’d simply like you to keep in mind that there will be times when I want or need to take control of a situation. With my hive on one side of us and pony kind on the other, I think that's probably going to be the nature of this relationship from here on.

“And to be honest,” she looked down, away from his eyes, “I kind of understand how you feel. Back before all this started, when you were still at the coffee convention, one of the hive's gatherers came to pick up my love crystals. He made a remark about how you seemed too good to be true and that there might be some other motivation behind your actions.”

She looked back up at him. “For a tiny moment, I nearly told him off and… and I really wanted to. But that would have been bad, to say the least. So, please believe me when I say I understand, at least a little.”

“I believe you.” Roast said, a genuine smile coming across his face. It was rather heartwarming for him to hear her say it, once again, that she felt so strongly for him. "And I feel honored that you feel that way."

A soft smile came across her face and her eyes remained on his for a moment longer before her smile slowly dissolved to a neutral line. "There… was another thing."

Roast nodded again and gave her a reassuring smile. "Of course, Sweet. Go ahead."

"It’s, well,” she paused, gazing off to the fireplace, humming. After a moment, her eyes turned back to him again. “I suppose this morning would be a good example of it. You have a tendency to, uh, make decisions for me.”

His brows furrowed and head tilted. “I didn’t, I mean, I only did it—”

“Please,” she interrupted, “let me finish.”

He tightened his lips and remained silent.

“I understand that these decisions are made to help me in some way. I get that and I don’t mind you doing little things every now and then, like making breakfast or letting me rest at the end of the day while you clean.” She took a deep breath and continued. “But when you do it frequently and with bigger impact, it feels like I’m less of a participant in our relationship and more of a… recipient.

“Which, uh,” Sweet Leaf stared off behind him for a second and gave a couple mirthless chuckles, “oh.”

“Honey?” Roast asked, “What is it?”

Her eyes snapped back to his, a shaky smile on her lips. “I just realized that’s exactly what I was.”

He merely squinted an eye and rose a brow.

“A recipient. Early on in our relationship, it didn’t matter to me who made the decisions. Love was what I needed and how I got it was fairly unimportant to me.” She let out a sigh and gave him a half smile. “I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s not really your fault.”

“Sweetheart,” Roast admonished, “That’s not very fair. You say these problems are ours to work on, that it’s our relationship. It takes two to make one and we both are responsible.”

“It’s less that and more... about me. This was even part of our training, in a way, about the psychology of creatures. You see, ponies and changelings and lots of other species like to test the waters, so to speak. We push our luck to see what’s acceptable and what isn’t, what we can and cannot get away with. And we don’t always do it consciously. When we find that something benefits us or works towards one of our goals, we see if we can do more of that thing.

“In your case, your father taught you to treat mares well, right?”

He nodded.

“And that was your goal, to treat me right in your own way. You tested it, you made little decisions, took little burdens off me without asking and I didn’t rebuke or refute you. There was no negative stimuli for you, so you did it more. Eventually, it became the norm because, for me, you were a means to an end and I was only minimally concerned with how that means ended.

“So,” Sweet took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, “how we got here isn’t entirely your fault, nor is it mine. But where we go from here is both our responsibilities. Does that make sense?”

Roast looked away. It did make sense, he supposed. All I wanted was to make her happy. I thought taking up some of her slack would do just that and it certainly seemed to.

He let out a sigh of his own before looking back to her. “Yes, it does make sense, even if my mind is telling me to argue. So, then the next step would be to… stop doing those things?”

“The next step,” she said, a smile growing on her face, “is to work on this together. You be more conscious of what you’re doing and I’ll speak up more when I feel you’re doing it. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good.” He returned her smile for a moment. “Was that it or were there any other things.”

“I think…” she trailed off with another sigh. “I think that’s it. Well, except for one thing. Really small.” She pursed her lips and looked away.

“Okay, big or small, I’m ready.”

“Could you… not use up all the hot water when you shower?”

Roast stared at her for a long moment before bursting into laughter.

“Honey! I’m serious!”

“I know,” he said, trying to get his mirth under control. “I know, I’m sorry! I'll try to be more conscious of my shower time. It’s just, after all this, it feels really good to talk and get it off our chests. I don't think I need to be able to feel others' emotions to tell that I wasn't the only one that was just a little terrified about this talk.”

Sweet Leaf nodded. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I was afraid of how you’d take it and I was afraid I’d end up sounding accusatory and make you upset.”

“Mmm. Well, we can both put to bed our fears now, right?”

“Right.”

“Though, Sweetie.” Roast began. “I do have a question.”

Her ears perked up. “Hm? What’s that?”

“I’ve been trying to figure something out in my head for the last few days, but I can't come up with an answer. What do you want me to call you?”

“Call me? What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we’re alone, like this, do I call you Sweet Leaf or should I call you Firefly?”

“Oh, I see.” She hummed for a moment. "I think I’d like to be called Firefly.”

“Firefly. I like saying that name. It sounds like—”

A loud knock resounded downstairs.

His heart jumped in his chest and his wife’s eyes snapped to his with the same questioning look he gave her.

“You’re not expecting anyone, are you?” Roast tentatively asked.

“N-no.” She shook her head. “I’m not.”

He took a deep breath and stood up from the couch. “I’ll see who—”

“I think we should both go check it.”

“Okay. Alright. Heh, maybe it's just an annoyed customer.”

She didn't laugh and he couldn't deny that he wasn't in the mood to laugh either.

He stepped around the couch, his ears flicking back at the sound of his wife following. As he rounded the corner into the hallway, another set of knocks came at their kitchen door. He turned the hallway's final corner and they made their way down the stairs.

At the final step, the back door came into view and he took a deep breath. He stepped into the kitchen and took the last few steps to it, the heavy rain outside resounding against the door and alleyway.

“Wait!” Sweet Leaf whispered.

Roast’s head flicked back to his wife, looking at her with the unasked question.

After a long moment of pause, she continued, “Who-whoever it is, they're full of anxiety and fear… and resolve and-and so much more.”

His lips straightened into a line as he nodded and turned back to the door. He raised his hoof to the handle, praying it wasn’t yet another trial for the two of them.

The handle clicked and he pulled it open.

“Hello?” Roast asked, arching a brow at the raincoat-covered pony. With the darkness of the sky, he couldn’t make out much of the pony’s face underneath the hood.

“Mister Roast?”

Roast’s eyebrows shot up at the familiar voice. “Miss Aura?”
> Act I ~ Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweet Leaf walked down the stairs after her husband. She hated this. Her gut told her something was wrong and she’d been taught to follow her gut. That niggling, sinking feeling in her stomach usually meant her brain realized something was out of place, something that she didn’t.

Though, it didn’t take her gut to tell her that. Before this whole disaster started, her and Roast would rarely get any unannounced visitors after closing hours. His friends and her collectors knew how busy they were in the evenings and how exhausting thirteen hours of work, six days a week could be. But here they were, receiving the third visitor at their private door in a mere week.

She stepped down off the last stair turning the same as Roast towards the back door. Three steps later she froze.

“Wait!” Sweet Leaf quietly exclaimed.

Roast quickly turned his head to face her, an eyebrow raised in question.

Something was very not right. The pony’s emotions outside, she could barely feel them through the door and they were everywhere. All over the place. “Who-whoever it is, they're full of anxiety and fear… and resolve and-and so much more.”

A simple nod was all he gave in response. She watched as he turned back to the door, raising his hoof to the handle.

She wanted to yell at him, tell him to stop, to run away in the other direction. They’d nearly been torn apart the very day before. Sweet Chrysalis, they hadn’t even been able to talk about that! Yet here it was, another attempt the world was making at them. She knew it. It had to be.

What else could it be?

But something stayed her voice. She didn’t know what it was, but all she could do was watch as that door clicked open, the torrent of rain making itself well known as it slammed into the pavement and the cafe.

“Hello?” Roast asked, the pony seeming to be just out of Firefly’s line of sight.

“Mister Roast?” Came the half drowned out response.

Mister Roast? Sweet Leaf scrunched her eyebrows, then her eyes shot open. I know that voice! That’s—

“Miss Aura?” Roast asked, his voice tinged with surprise before Firefly felt a wave of guilt and embarrassment come across him. “Ah. Oh. I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you so... soon. Is there something the matter?”

“Not in particular,” Aura responded. “I wanted to talk to you and Missus Leaf about, erm, about what happened yesterday.”

“I think I understand. Though, I’ll admit your visit has come at a rather inopportune time.”

“Oh, I see. Would it be better if I came back?”

Roast sighed and shook his head. “No. I think it would be best to get this over with now.”  He stepped back out of the doorway. “Please, come inside.”

“Roast!” Firefly shouted under her breath. “What are you doing?!”

“Missus Sweet Leaf?” Aura came into view as she put a single hoof on the step up to the door. A purple, hooded raincoat obscured all but her muzzle. “I’m not here to, well,” she paused, looking down at the floor for a short moment before looking back up to her. “I’m here on as good of terms as I can be. And… I’m alone.”

Firefly stared back. She couldn’t sense anyone else, though that meant little and the emotions coming off her, they weren’t malicious, but still filled with that underlying nervousness. But that means little if she can manipulate her own feelings. “And what are those terms?”

“I… Can I please come in and discuss it? This is very uncomfortable.”

“Sweet Leaf,” Roast cut in, “this is something we need to discuss, even if I wish I’d been able to talk to you about it earlier.”

I fully agree that we need to talk about it, but I don’t understand why Aura needs to be here for it. She glanced over at their guest, still out in the rain, and gave a little huff. “Fine. Come on in. You’re letting all the rain in anyway.”

“Thank you.” Aura nodded her head to Firefly and in she stepped, her raincoat dripping wet as Roast shut the door behind her.

“Please, Miss Aura,” Roast began, “take off your coat and we’ll put it in the closet. Then we can go upstairs and talk. Would you like something to drink? A latte or maybe a macchiato?”

“Perhaps just a cup of coffee?” she replied, following Roast over to the utility closet next to the stairs.

“Sure,” Roast opened the door and turned to her. “I can get that started as soon as we head upstairs.”

Firefly mentally huffed. It was obvious he trusted her and even though she didn’t understand it, she needed to trust him. “You know what, I can take care of that.” Firefly spoke up, starting towards the stairs. “You help her hang up her coat and boots and then come up.”

There was palpable confusion coming from Roast, though a tiny bit of pride rolled through Firefly as she glanced over and saw nearly none of it showed on his face.

“Trust,” she silently mouthed at him and pointedly nodded at him.

He returned her a little smile and turned back to Aura.

Firefly turned her attention away from the other two and to the stairs, starting up the first step. As she ascended and followed their hallway, she couldn’t help herself from wondering. Why was Aura there? Roast knew something more, a good deal something more, than she did, but what was it? She pursed her lips as she reached the kitchen at the end of the hall. She could be lying about being alone. What if she still suspects me and this is just another interrogation session?

Something didn’t sit right with her, but there was little to do about it now except do what she said. Stepping over to a counter, she pulled down a cup and saucer from a cabinet. Placing it next to the coffee maker, the nothingness at the bottom of the empty cup caught her eye. It would be easy. Transform my fangs back on and squirt some venom into the cup. She’d be paralyzed in minutes.

She stared for a moment longer and then chuckled, incredulous at herself. And then what, Firefly? Put her in the closet? Tie her up and interrogate her? Yeah, no. She'd probably vomit it up anyway. Just make the coffee. You expect Roast to trust you and now you need to return the courtesy.

Firefly pulled down the grinder and beans and went about grinding and making the coffee. As she was pouring the freshly ground beans into the machine’s basket, her ears flicked back at the sound of hooves making their way up the stairs. Quickly filling the tank with enough water for a couple cups, she flicked the coffee maker’s switch and turned around as Roast was entering the kitchen.

“Here,” Roast turned to the dining chair nearest the hallway and pulled it out before stepping back out of the way. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you,” Aura smiled and sat in the offered chair.

Roast walked around the table and took his usual seat at the other end of the table.

“Your coffee is just starting.” Firefly said, walking over and sitting down with Aura on her left and her husband on her right.

“And thank you, Missus Leaf.” Aura nodded at her.

Firefly merely put on a smile back at her. The other mare’s emotions had mostly settled, though that little bit of anxiety and some resolve still stuck around.

That piqued Firefly’s interest quite a bit.

“Alright, well,” Roast spoke up, “the coffee’s brewing and while I don’t mean to cut right to the matter, but, given the circumstances,” his eyes glanced over at Firefly for a tiny moment, “I’m sure you understand. Before we begin, is this about what happened after I... interrupted the interrogation?”

“It is.” Aura nodded again. “I came by because I—”

“Wait, hold on,” Roast held up a hoof. “Sweet Leaf and I haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet and she needs to know before we get into… that.”

“I need to know what?” Firefly raised an eyebrow at him, the silence of the room filled by the coffee maker.

“I, uh, well...” Roast falsely started, trepidation and guilt dripping from him again. “Ugh. Might as well get it over with. Sweet, I told Aura about you being a, uh… changeling.”

Firefly’s eyes shot open and she sat back in shock. “You what?!”

“I didn’t tell her everything!” Roast waved his hooves in the air. “Only that I knew you were one! And that I still love you and you’re not bad and—”

“Are you insane?!” she shouted at her very obviously delusional husband. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! What were you—”

A sudden fear rushing through the other mare gave her pause, but as her senses returned to her, the undisguised hurt flowing from her husband stopped her in her tracks.

Good. Great. You just got done with a talk about cooperation and trust and you’ve already violated it to tartarus and back. Her eyes trailed over to Aura. And she’s afraid. She’s afraid and she’s not running or calling for help or anything. She came here, supposedly alone, knowing I’m a changeling.

The anger in her slowly dissolved to the tune of the coffee maker giving its last few sputters and shutting off. Firefly settled back into her seat and closed her eyes, taking another of her calming breaths as she willed her mind to calm as much as it would.

She opened her eyes and looked back up to her husband then to Aura, both staring back at her. Firefly let out a resigned huff. “I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m not… this is still new to me. I’m sure you can imagine my hesitation about somepony in your position knowing about us. Or anypony, really. But,” she looked over at Roast, “I’m trying to trust him and if he told you, then he must have had a good cause.”

“I would say that’s true, Missus Leaf,” Aura said.

“Yes,” Roast agreed before glancing over at Aura, “and now would probably be the best time to tell you what happened.”

Firefly scooted her chair back. “Before we do that, I believe Miss Aura’s coffee is ready.” She stood and walked over to the machine and the cup next to it. For the tiniest moment, the empty bottom of the cup mocked her and she wondered if she really should have poisoned the cup.

“Miss Aura,” Firefly called out as she grabbed the carafe with a wing and poured, “would you like any cream or sugar?”

“No thank you. I prefer it black.”

After setting the carafe back onto the warm plate, she took the saucer and it's cup in her wing and walked back to the table.

"Thank you, Missus Leaf." Aura smiled and nodded as Firefly put the cup in front of her.

"You're welcome," Firefly replied as she took her seat again and faced Roast. "Alright. I think I'm ready. Go ahead."

"Right." He looked Firefly in the eyes. “Yesterday, Miss Aura interviewed me before your interrogation. I did everything I could to answer as if we were a regular couple. I’m not sure if she noticed anything, but it doesn’t really matter. The lieutenant brought me into the observation room during your interrogation, telling me to think about my love for you as hard as I could in hopes that it would pull a reaction from you.” He looked down at the table. “I tried really hard not to think about anything, but…

“Seeing you chained up like you were, it-it made me furious.” He glanced back up, a fire in his eyes. “I couldn’t help it. Your wings bound, your hooves chained, that heart monitor. Except," the fire in him evaporated, "it suddenly dawned on me. They had you and I’d never see you again. And next thing I knew, I was throwing up.

“The observation room became a hectic mess and I remember the lieutenant telling them to let Miss Aura know what happened before he took me out of the room and back to her office.”

“It’s not my office, really,” Aura spoke up. “I was only borrowing it since Lieutenant, erm, another lieutenant was out for the day.”

“Right. I, uh, forgot that,” Roast conceded before continuing. “Once we got there, Lieutenant Steel asked what the matter was, but I locked up. I had no idea what to say and it felt like saying anything at all would only lead to damnation. A couple minutes later, Miss Aura came in and after Steel told her what had happened, she asked to speak to me alone.”

He breathed in deep and slowly sighed. “She told me she was certain that you were a changeling and reassured me that she’d find the real Sweet Leaf. She tried to comfort me, and kept assuring me that we’d find you, but… I knew she wouldn’t. Or rather that she couldn't.” Roast shook his head and stared down at the table. “I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

“So you told her.” Firefly took care to keep any accusation out of her voice.

“Yeah. I told her that I knew about you, that I loved you, that we’d talked and come to an understanding. After a lot of questioning, she left. The lieutenant came a short time later to retrieve me and, well, you know the rest.”

Firefly hummed for a moment. “I suppose that does make things a bit more clear. But,” she turned to Aura, “why did you come back in? Why that power move right before you let me go?”

Refined Aura’s eyes flicked up to meet Firefly’s for a tiny moment before shooting down to her muzzle or perhaps neck. “I wanted you to know that I was serious, that it was important you answer me truthfully.”

“I could have been lying. I could still be lying now.” Firefly narrowed her eyes. “Just like you could be lying.”

She could feel the palpable disappointment in her husband and she understood it fully. But this was important. If Aura was double playing this whole situation, everything could end, right then and there.

“How can I know you’re telling the truth?” Firefly continued, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at the other mare. “You know, I noticed you did the same thing when you slammed your hooves on the interrogation table. Your eyes. They were on mine like a hawk on a mouse the entire time we were in there. But when you came back, same as now, you can’t meet my eyes. Why is that, Miss Aura? What are you hiding? Are you afraid of me?”

Anger, embarrassment, shame, and hurt flowed through the mare and Firefly fought to keep the smirk off her face.

Got her.

“Well?”

Aura took a deep breath, supposedly to calm herself as much of those emotions faded to mere embers. “It isn’t relevant to what we’re discussing, but as a show of trust, I won’t withhold it from you. I have a form of social anxiety and a part of that is a fear of looking ponies in the eyes. Looking you, or anyone, in the eyes is… terrifying to me. It’s a gateway to our souls and locking eyes like that leaves me feeling utterly exposed.”

Firefly still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t still a whole intricate setup. Sure, it would have to be several layers deep at this point, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility yet. “Except during the interrogation, you seemed more than fine staring right into mine.”

Aura nodded. “Yes. It’s been a long road to being able to do that. Can you imagine the kind of image a detective would give if they couldn’t look their witness or suspect in the eyes?”

The pause was long enough that Firefly caught on the question was not rhetorical. “No, I suppose I can’t.”

“Right. It would be the opposite of confident. It would show that I’m afraid and weak, just like you suspected me to be.”

Firefly pursed her lips. She’s not wrong, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t still part of the game.

“Through a lot of work with a therapist, I became able to ‘disconnect’ myself from that gateway between souls, so to speak. When I’m in that interrogation room, I’m no longer looking at Sweet Leaf the pony, I’m analyzing Sweet Leaf the suspect. My mind changes from a social perspective to a purely analytical one. I’m focusing on every action you make. Every shift of your eyes, every twitch of your ears, I’m taking it in.

“And in that moment, it’s almost as if I don’t exist anymore.”

She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t getting frustrated with this mare’s toying around. “Then why haven’t you done that here? And where’s that confidence you seemed to boast so proudly yesterday? It seems like that would be quite helpful here.”

The anger that flamed back up in her was rather satisfying.

“Sweet Leaf,” Roast interrupted, drawing both mare’s eyes to him, “I think that’s enough. You’re crossing the line from distrusting into rude antagonism.”

“No,” Aura said, extending a wing out at him, “it’s fine. I’m here to show honesty, even if it costs me a little more than I was ready for.” She faced Firefly again. “Do you know what it’s like to have crippling social anxiety? Have you ever been in a room, trying to be as small and insignificant as you can, but inevitably you make some loud noise or knock something over and suddenly everypony’s eyes are on you?

“Maybe you haven’t. Maybe changelings don’t get mental disorders like we ponies do. In that moment, you lock up and your body yells at you to get out or run away, but all you can do is stare and hope to disappear and that moment lasts forever.”

Aura closer her eyes again and took a deep, shaky breath. The mare’s anxiety was all over her, but as she breathed back out, it slowly petered back out. She opened her eyes and looked back at Firefly once more. “To deal with that kind of anxiety all your life can be a nightmare. I’ve come a long way in my personal life since those days. At work, though, the anxiety is still there, but it's different.

“There are defined statuses and roles. There are clear expectations of me as a pony and I can focus on achieving those goals and fulfilling those expectations. It’s easier to be confident because of who I am, because of my position. Ponies know what it means to be a detective and I can become that pony and ignore that anxiety, if only because the mask has become so familiar.

“But here, out in the wild, none of that applies. I can try to be confident, like I am now, but underneath, I have to keep a close check on my feelings.”

The smirk Firefly had been holding back had abandoned her as Aura reached a wing out and grabbed hold of her coffee cup. The other mare didn't seem to be lying, there’d been anxiety bubbling underneath her facade this whole time. She seemed to have an excuse for everything Firefly threw at her. What was the right answer? Could she afford the consequences if she chose wrong?

"I think you've done a wonderful job, Miss Aura." Roast smiled at her. "You've seemed very put together and confident to me since you got here."

"Thank you, Mister Roast." She gave him a little smile back and set her cup back down with a clink.

“Miss Aura,” Firefly drew their attention back to her, keeping her voice as inoffensive as she could. “Let’s say I believe you. Let’s say I believe you’re here of your own, personal volition and that everything that's been said is true. How can I know that? How can I know you’re being honest?”

“That thought has run through my mind hundreds of times in the last eighteen hours and every time I try to solve that puzzle, I keep coming up blank. The only thing that seemed to have even the slightest chance of gaining your trust was honesty.”

“Honesty,” Firefly parroted. “You say that as though you laying all your cards on the table wouldn’t get you hurt. Or worse. How do you know I’m not as dangerous as everypony seems to think my kind is?”

“I might be hopeful, but I’m not stupid. Last night, I set in place measures that if something were to happen to me, everything I know about you and your husband would be sent to several places.”

“And how do you know I haven’t had somepony watching you and every one of those measures you set?”

Fear boiled up inside the mare and she glanced down at the table.

Firefly clenched her jaw and fought to keep from huffing. She hated every bit of this. There were too many unknowns and no way to know the truth.

It was a gamble and every collector was taught that gambles in the hive were never worth it.

“If you did,” Aura began, “then I would have the answer to my question. I’d have made a mistake yesterday and would now suffer the consequences of my failure. My only hope would be that the changeling that replaces me would perform poorly enough that my fellow detectives and captain would notice.”

She’s either calling the bluff or she’s really accepted the idea that we outwitted her. Where do I even go with this? I’m not an infiltrator, I was barely trained on mind games in the first place. If she is bluffing, there’s no way I can keep up.

Aura glanced up and stared Firefly right in the eyes, even as anxiety built within the detective. “Did I? Was it a mistake?”

“What am I supposed—”

“No,” Roast cut Firefly off with a glare, “You didn’t and it wasn’t. There has been no watching going on and I'm certain there is no ulterior motives behind Aura's actions. I am tired of this and I know what we just talked about, Sweet, but this is plain stupid. You two are chasing each other around like the last two princesses on a chess board. The only way you’re going to come to a resolution is if you both concede. But what you two don’t even realize is you’re both fighting on the same damn side!”

“Roast, you can’t know—”

“Firefly, would you shut up and listen?”

She sat back in her chair, mouth agape, hurt filling her more than she’d ever felt with him before. He… he used my name. In front of her.

“I can know. It’s you who can’t. And I don’t blame you,” his voice and eyes softened alike. “I can barely imagine what it’s like growing up in a place where you’re taught to never trust. To have to live in a world where you’re always pretending and can never be yourself. With that dark cloud above your head knowing that everything could fall apart at the slightest mistake.

“But that’s not where we are. You don’t know what Aura was like when we were in that office. She didn’t have to do any of this. The minute I told her about you, she could have simply walked right out and told everypony about us. But she didn’t.

“Aura decided to help us. And do you know what her biggest concern was yesterday?”

She felt like she was a nymph again, getting scolded by the caretakers and the only thing she could manage was a simple shake of her head.

“Her biggest concern was finding you. Finding the real Sweet Leaf. So please understand that she’s not here to fight you.”

Firefly stared at him and inhaled, unable to keep the shakiness out of her breath. “But how can I know? I almost lost you yesterday. If I really had…”

She didn’t even want to finish that.

“Because, think about it,” he softly replied. “She put herself on the line for you. Do you really think if the guard knew what she did, that they’d have just let you go? A creature they know so little about?”

Firefly shook her head and broke away from his stare. Try as she might, she couldn’t poke a hole in his logic other than the same old argument. Except…

“But why?” Firefly met his eyes again. “Why would she risk it? The guards know so little about us, but so does she.” She looked over to the mare sitting silently, Aura’s gaze faltering and resting on the table again.

“Because…” Roast trailed off, his eyebrows bunching before glancing over at the detective as well. “I don’t know the exact reason. Miss Aura,” he said, prompting her eyes to him. “I still trust you, but why did you do it?”

Aura remained silent for a few seconds before letting out a deep sigh. “It’s probably going to sound stupi—no, Aura,” she whispered to herself, “that’s a bad word. It’s going to sound strange, but I don’t have a lot of friends. It’s hard to socialize with my kind of… challenges, but even more so, it feels impossible that I could ever find a special somepony.

“So, given that, when I interviewed you, I wanted to help you get back what I could never have. But, when you told me you knew she was a changeling and loved her anyway, it made me feel jealous. I couldn’t help but think, ‘here’s a couple who has a relationship so unlikely, yet I can’t even find a—,’ well, you get it. It took me a few minutes, but I pulled myself together and eventually came to the realization that if what he said was true, it wasn’t my place to pull two pon—creatures apart.”

She wrapped her wings around and over her face. “Ugh. I must sound like the world’s sappiest mare.”

“No, you don’t,” Roast said. “You sound like a pony who cares about others.”

Letting out a sigh, she pulled her wings away from her face and settled them against her back. “Thank you, again, Mister Roast,” she said before turning to Firefly. “Does that satisfy you, Missus Leaf?”

Aura not using her real name didn’t escape Firefly’s notice. “To as much of an extent as it could have, yes. I will also admit that having you as an ally, or at least a non-hostile, to Roast and I would be a very welcome change. But…” she hesitated. “But, the question comes back around. How can I know you aren’t going to call in your guard friends or use me to find other changelings? The mere risk I would be taking to trust you is enough to get me skewered from both the pony side and the changeling side.”

“I can understand your hesitation and I will admit in return that the thought of using you to root out other changelings has crossed my mind. After all, changelings as a whole, at least with my minimal understandings and assumptions, are not exactly friendly to ponies. What are the chances that the one pony-friendly changeling in who-knows-how-many happens to fall right onto my back?”

With enough squinting, Firefly could almost see Aura’s fears reflected in herself. “Then how could you justify it?”

Aura chuckled. “It would make a lot of sense if both you and Mister Roast were changelings. I don't think he is, but if my assumptions are correct, your kind are manipulators and deceivers. What better way to lure me into a false sense of security than to play the good-cop, bad-cop routine on a detective?”

What little of a grin she had left fell off Aura’s face. “My stupid—” she winced, “unrealistic sense of hope and desire helped fuel my justification. I kind of clicked with Mister Roast, or rather it felt like he clicked with me. Who he seemed to be and the kind of pony he is was appealing. And I thought that if he was that kind of pony, then maybe you could be too. And maybe… somehow, we could be friends.”

Silence seemed to reign across the table. Firefly looked at Roast who had surprise not only exuding from him, but also displayed on his face. Firefly herself was even somewhat caught off guard by the admission. And Aura… she was downright embarrassed, the emotion flooding from her causing a visible tint to her cheeks.

“Oh sweet Celestia.” Aura laid her forehead on the table edge with a dull thump. “That sounded even cheesier than in my head. Please tell me you’re going to replace me now and spare me any further embarrassment.”

Firefly stared at the poor mare for a moment before looking over to Roast. He was looking back at her, one of his signature eyebrows raised in question before his eyes flicked over to Aura and back. She sighed and, though she wasn’t happy about it, her list of arguments was running very thin.

Instead she mentally shrugged. “No, I’m afraid not.” Firefly said, watching as Aura sat back up and looked at her. “Not only would Roast not let me, but, in the end, I have no good way of subduing and replacing you. I could do it myself, but I doubt I could effectively replicate what you do or how you behave. I wouldn’t be able to fool any guards and if you suddenly disappeared, everything would point right back at me.

“So, if this was a game, you’ve won. Congratulations.”

A flash of green fire overcame Sweet Leaf’s body and in her place was the undisguised form of a changeling. She took a tiny bit of satisfaction at the wide eyed stare and slight gaping jaw of the detective.

“Hello, Refined Aura,” the natural, two toned voice of a changeling filled the room as she extended her black hoof to the other mare. “My name is Firefly. It’s good to meet you.”

Aura’s hoof slowly raised to bump against the shiny, proffered hoof. “It’s… good to meet you too.”

“So, you say you’re here for honesty,” Firefly began. “If you wanted to, you could have me cornered. There’s nothing I can do without simultaneously destroying everything I have in Hoofington. Are you going to have me followed, to use me as bait for other changelings? Are you going to separate me from the love of my life?”

“I… no, I won’t.” Aura shook her head.

Firefly raised an eyeridge. “It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ waiting.”

Aura opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to find the words she wanted to say. She looked away for a moment before looking back near Firefly and trying again. “I don’t think it’s a ‘but.’ There are more changelings here in Hoofington and probably across Equestria as well. Even without you saying anything, I think Wavy Pallete’s marefriend was proof enough of that. Are those changelings a danger to ponies?”

“What am I supposed to say to that?” Firefly huffed. “That ponies and changelings are suddenly going to get along now because some lowly collector and a detective became all buddy-buddy? I’m not their leader or any changeling’s leader. I’m just a love collector. I have no more control, or perhaps even less control, over them than you do over your fellow detectives or captain.”

Aura’s eyes trailed away from Firefly and to the table in front of her. She stayed quiet, few emotions running through her, but seemingly deep in thought. After a long moment of silence, she spoke, “I suppose I don’t know what I was wanting.” She turned to Firefly again. “My job is to investigate crimes and help solve problems. I help the guard and one of their goals is to keep ponies safe. I’m committed to helping them with that and if there’s a threat, then it’s my duty to tell somepony that can send someone to stop it.”

“Then you’re going to have to mare up and abuse our trust. My hive is my family and I won’t betray them. I love my husband, but if it comes down to having to choose between all us Hoofington collectors being taken down or just me, I will gladly fall on that spear.”

“Sweet, please,” Roast said, drawing both mares’ attention, “don’t talk like that. We don’t have to go that far.”

“No, Mister Roast,” Aura said, shaking her head, “it indeed won’t come to that. I keep trying to think of a metaphor that will set this whole situation into a neat, understandable box, but all I’m doing is drawing a blank. The one question that’s rearing its head to me is ‘why?’ Why are you different? What separates you from the rest of your… swarm?”

Firefly scrunched her fanged muzzle. “First, we’re not a swarm. That makes us sound like a bunch of mindless insects. We may be part insect, but we’re a people just as much as you or any other sapient species.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Aura bowed her head.

“It’s alright. I wasn’t trying to harp on you. As for why I’m different,” Firefly shrugged and haphazardly held a hoof in Roast’s direction, “it’s half his fault and half mine.” She couldn’t help but enjoy the bit of indignation that sparked in her husband. “You see, a few years ago, I was a silly little changeling and he saw me in the undisguised form you see now. I didn’t notice and he had the gall to not confront me or tell anypony. Instead, he accepted his wife for whatever she was.

“Oh and by the way, in case Roast didn’t tell you, I didn’t replace Sweet Leaf, I created her as my disguise.”

Aura nodded and Firefly took that as her already knowing. 

“My second fault came in when I let Sweet Leaf’s feelings spill into my own. When he found out about changelings a few days ago, he finally confronted me. I ran away, but had to come back to get those love crystals your guards found. Of course the big lug tried to convince me to stay and I was sufficiently enamored with him that I made the absurd decision to do so. So, really, it was a series of unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate, events that led me to walking a fine line between ponies and changelings. Questions?”

“I, uh,” Aura began, curiosity and confusion and intrigue spilling from her, “as one who is only equine, I have a great number of questions. None of them, however, are pertinent to the discussion at hoof.”

Firefly hummed and asked herself if she really knew what she was doing. Was she really going to place her blind trust in a mare that nearly tore her life apart? Well, as I already said, it doesn’t matter. Roast would have a fit if I tried and it’s not like fighting back wouldn’t destroy my life as I’ve only now come to know it.

“I noticed you’re not very afraid or anxious anymore.” Firefly put on what she hoped was a bemused grin. “You’re starting to sound like the Aura back in the interrogation room, too.”

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” Aura apologized again.

“It was a compliment,” Firefly said. “You seem to be much more comfortable with us now. Perhaps you’ll be able to ask me those questions some day.”

Aura’s ears perked up. “Ask you? I’m not sure I understand.”

“You said one of the things you hoped for out of this was a friendship, no?”

“Well, I did say that, but I wouldn’t say I was all that hopeful.”

“Well, one of the things I happen to be lacking are friends who aren’t changelings.” Firefly looked over to Roast. “What do you think, honey? Think we could add one more friend to our circle?”

“I… wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Roast said with confusion on his face. She ignored it for the moment.

“Wait,” Aura said, holding up a wing, “Not but half an hour ago you seemed ready to kick me out of your home. Now you want to be friends?”

“To be honest, I still don't really trust you and I will absolutely be far more wary about my surroundings now. But, Roast made some good points and, like I said, it’s not as if I can do anything about it without throwing away what I have with my husband. It's more like this. If we stay in contact, we can keep mutual tabs on each other. An unorthodox trust building exercise, if you will. And if we happen to shoot the breeze or have a nice dinner or go out for a nice game of bowling while doing so, then that's how it goes.” Firefly shrugged.

“If that’s what you’d like,” Aura began, hesitation clear in her voice, “then I’d be happy to have a couple of… friends.”

“Perfect!” Firefly grinned and clapped her hooves together. “Then if you’d follow me, we can get you into a nice, warm cocoon.”

The small smile dropped off Aura’s face not for the first time that day and Firefly could see as much as feel the glare coming from Roast.

“It’s a joke!” Firefly made a show of rolling the white pupil in her changeling eyes.

“Very funny.” Roast deadpanned at her before turning to Aura. “Sorry, I’m still trying to train her in being a decent creature.”

“Hey! I know perfectly well how to be a good pony,” Firefly said, changing into Sweet Leaf’s body and giving him a cheeky grin and a little wiggle of her eyebrows. “You did fall for me after all.”

“And here I am questioning if it really was a good idea.”

Roast stared at Firefly with his unamused glare and Firefly stared back with Sweet Leaf’s pleased grin.

“Pfft!” Aura burst out laughing.

Firefly and Roast both looked over to her before they too gave in. As Firefly belted out her own laughter, she felt relief flood over her.

Maybe things really were going to be okay.





“Are you sure you can’t stay any longer?” Fine Roast asked as they stood in the cafe’s downstairs kitchen. “I could make you a mean latte or macchiato. Or even another plain ol’ cup-a-joe.”

Refined Aura smiled and shook her head. “No, though I do appreciate the offer. I really do need to get home. And other places. Those measures I mentioned? In case I, well, didn’t come back? I kind of need to go collect them.”

“I suppose that would be a good thing,” Roast said.

“Aura?” Firefly spoke, turning the mare’s attention to herself. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the hassle I put you through today. And I appreciate the efforts you made to meet me in the middle.”

“You’re welcome, Missus Leaf.” Aura smiled again, her eyes flicking up to meet Firefly’s for a short moment before darting back down to another part of her.

“You don’t have to keep calling me that,” Firefly said. After a confused look came across the other mare’s face, she clarified, “I mean, I’d like it if you called me by my name. My real name. At least, when we’re alone like this.”

“Okay, F-Firefly?” she stammered, a flush of delightedness spilling from her. “I think I can do that.”

I’ve got to give it to her, Firefly thought as the mare donned her raincoat and boots. If this is still a ruse, Aura’s played her part flawlessly, right down to the emotions. She didn’t know how the future was going to play out, but she hoped their troubles were behind them.

“If you’d ever like to have that cup of coffee,” Roast said, pulling the door open for Aura, “feel free to stop by the cafe any time. We’d be more than happy to have you.”

“Thank you, Roast.” Aura nodded with her smile. “I think I’d like that.” She flipped up her hood and headed out the alleyway door, the heavy rain pattering against her purple raincoat.

Roast shut the door and let out a long sigh.

“Well, that happened,” Firefly said.

“Yeah, it did,” Roast said, letting out a long sigh before turning to her. “I think… I think I’d like to go lay on the bed for a bit.”

“That does sound rather nice,” Firefly agreed, turning with her husband and following his slow gait up the stairs. At the top, they turned left into their bedroom and she walked to the far side, stepping up onto her side of the bed and laying down half on her side with a couple hooves tucked under her.

Roast did the same and gave her a smile before he laid his head down onto the pillow.

It had certainly been a rather turbulent day and Firefly still wasn’t sure what to think about it all. The talk with Roast had gone better than Firefly thought either of them had hoped. Aura visiting like she did was alarming, but assuming her claims were correct, turned out to be the best thing that could have happened. She still held some skepticism, but—

Her thoughts were cut off with a wave of anxiety and guilt from Roast. She looked at him, but his face and closed eyes were as neutral as they were unhelpful at providing context. Firefly wanted to say something, to ask him what was wrong, but at the same time, she wanted to give him space if he needed it.

It became clear to her at that point that everything was very complicated now. When she was a mere manipulator in one moment and social bystander in another, everything was easy. But now with his knowledge of her and her desire for a real, authentic relationship, all that simplicity was gone.

I’ll wait, she decided. If he wants to address it, he can in his own time. I don’t need to push into his private space all the time.

So wait she did. His feelings shifted around with different flavors of nervousness and guilt and after a moment, her patience was rewarded.

“Firefly?” Roast asked, raising his head from his pillow.

“Hmm?” she hummed, lightly raising an eyebrow.

“I’m… really sorry for what I said earlier. About telling you to shut up. That was wrong of me and that’s not something that should ever come out of my mouth to you.”

Firefly chuckled, quite relieved that it was something so simple. “I think, given the situation, it wasn’t entirely uncalled for. I’m fairly certain you’re right about her and if you hadn’t shocked me out of my stubbornness, I probably would have walked myself in circles.”

“I, uh, I’m also sorry for using your name in front of her.”

She shrugged. “It would have come out eventually. You merely hastened my introduction.”

“It still wasn’t my place to say it. I should have left that decision to you.”

“Roast.” Firefly reached out a hoof and placed it onto his, giving him a little squeeze. “I’m not angry at you. There’s a lot of things that could have gone better in the last hour, but what came of it was a result that I don’t think either of us are unhappy about.”

“I suppose you’re right. But would you have… well, if she had intended to do what you thought, would you have really…” He trailed off.

Firefly sighed. “I honestly don’t know. Everything about it would have been a logistical nightmare. I have no way of doing anything with her if I did subdue her. There’s no calling back to the hive for help right now and, like I told her, there’s no way I could fill both her role and mine at the same time.

“In the end, I think it would have been game over.”

He looked down and sadness filled him. She quickly moved her hoof off his and onto his jaw, pulling his eyes back up to hers.

“Hey,” she let go of his chin, “that didn’t happen and I don’t think it will, so there’s no reason to be so upset about it. We should be happy that we’ve made a new friend.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “you’re right, as usual.”

“Pfft,” she laughed. “If all of that was me being right, then you need to get a check on your philosophy.”

“Come on, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know.” Firefly leaned in and gave him a little nuzzle, happiness filling her as he nuzzled her snout back. She trailed her nuzzle back and brought her lips to his. They shared a long kiss, but he pulled back just before tongue got involved.

“So, uh, I've been wondering,” Roast started

“Hmm?" Firefly's eyebrow rose in question.

“I'm not wanting it for any particular reason, especially given the state of our lives recently, but are we… compatible? Down there?”

Her eyebrows scrunched. “Compatible down there? We've done the tango plenty of times, so I'm assuming you don't mean like that.”

Roast hummed in the negative. “No, I mean for, uh, foals.”

“Ah.” She thought that's what he meant, but she wanted him to confirm it. With that came a grimace. “I hate to say it, but no. In fact, it's less that we're not compatible and more that there's nothing to be compatible with.”

At seeing his confusion and head tilt, she clarified, “the only changeling that can reproduce is the queen. All other females are inert and lack the facilities to do so. The only way a female can reproduce is becoming a queen herself and that can only happen if our current queen dies. Even if we change into a different species or gender, we can't just create eggs or sperm out of nothing. Changeling magic might be strong, but it's not that strong.”

There was still a good bit of confusion flowing from him. “But if you can't create either, then how do you reproduce at all? Do you do it asexually?”

“Oh, huh uh.” Firefly shook her head. “The natural born male changelings are fully functional and the queen has her own caste of consorts.”

“That's… interesting,” Roast said, “And a little sad I suppose. But there are other ways if we wanted to have foals.”

“That there are. And, you know, lots of good things happened today,” she said smooth and low with a practiced lecherous smile, “With all this talk about foals, I think I know of one way we could celebrate.”

He gave her a half grin and raised an eyebrow at her. “That sounds kinda weird considering one of the things you want to celebrate is making a new friend.”

“Oh come on,” Firefly rolled her eyes and shoved at him, “do you want to ruin the mood?”

“I’m only joking, Sweet. Come here.”

Roast pulled her close and pressed their lips back together. Her eyes went wide and she let out a moan at the tongue he very swiftly added to the equation. Though, just as she was getting into it, he pulled back.

“Honey?” he tentatively began. “I’ve kind of been having a thought for a little bit.”

She merely licked her lips of their meeting and raised an eyebrow back.

“You know how you can change into different ponies?”

“Mmhmm?” Firefly wasn’t opposed to where this was going. “What are you thinking? Maybe a supermodel?” She shifted into some slender white mare from Canterlot she’d seen in a magazine. “Or a star?” Another shift into Sapphire Shores and she leaned in close with a whisper, “or was there something more specific?”

“Uh, I mean...” he stammered and looked away.

Firefly grinned and she could only think about the ways she could put even more flush onto his face and desire in his heart. She leaned in close, her eyes half lidded, and—

“W-wait!” Roast put a hoof against her chest. “It’s not that I don’t find those attractive...”

“Well,” Firefly leaned back and shifted back into Sweet Leaf’s form, “go ahead, dearest. I’m all ears.” His adorable nervousness was to die for.

“I like you a lot more because it’s you. But, it’s more, uh, that I was wondering… are you able to change into a… male?”

Now this was interesting. She’d never expected this of him and was more than happy to explore it. “I absolutely can.” Firefly shifted into a Sweet Leaf, but made several little changes, some less noticeable, but some much more noticeable. 

“My darling Roast,” Firefly said in a deep, masculine voice unable to keep the growing grin of her face at her husband’s deepening blush, “I absolutely can.” She leaned in again, eyes half lidded, but was perturbed yet again to feel his hoof against her chest.

A squeak came out of him before his voice came back under his control, “S-sorry. I definitely do want to try it, but I was thinking we could start with just... you?”

“Ah, that works fine too. We can work up to it.” She shifted back into Sweet Leaf. “That better?”

“I meant more… you.”

Her eyebrows raised again.

“Well,” he clarified, “I was thinking more changeling you?”

He wants... she half thought, taken aback. “You want what?”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, that’s okay. But I would really like to be with the real you, even if it’s only once.”

“I—” she didn’t know what to say as a pit deep in her chest felt… loved. “You’d want to be with me like that? You don’t find it… unsettling?”

“Firefly,” Roast put on one of his sweetest smiles and she felt his hoof ever so lightly hold her cheek, “I could never find you anything but beautiful. You are the love of my life and I love every part of you.”

Firefly's watery eyes flicked back and forth between his. “You are more wonderful than I could ever ask for.”

She shifted out of her disguise and into herself. Her black changeling lips pressed into his, finally without interruption.

“Yes,” she breathed out against him, “I would love nothing more.”
> Act I ~ Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cool winter sun shone down on Spindle and her three companions as they made their way through the badlands. The hard desert path crunched under their hooves and their cart, filling the silence between them.

Spindle walked next to the cart’s wooden wheel, her hooves nearly dragging on the ground as she pushed onward. It had been almost two weeks since her search and rescue team last stayed at any kind of motel or hostel and she was very aware of how much her posture showed it. She was more than ready for her several-day break back at the hive.

As much as her hooves ached from the walk, she gratefully eyed the disguised changeling pulling the cart and was very glad it wasn’t her turn to pull it on their final day. Glancing up to the sky, she was even more grateful it wasn’t her turn to be on watch. Flying around as a bird for hours on end as she kept an eye out for other travelers was equally exhausting. Due to their love shortage, they had to keep transformations to a minimum, so they couldn’t even take turns if they wanted to.

A crack and sudden pain in her hooves drew her attention back to the ground. The corner of her eyes caught sight of the skipping rock as it disappeared under the cart. A tiny moment later and a low yelp came from the front of the cart.

“Hey, watch it, would you?” Her grey coated companion pulling the cart glared back at her.

“Sorry, Instar.” Spindle offered him a sympathetic smile.

A few grumbles came from him as he turned forward. “Whatever. I am so tired of this and I cannot wait until it’s over.”

“I agree,” another of her companions said from the other side of the cart. “I will also be grateful when we can put all this behind us.”

“Seriously, how many more times are they going to have us go out? It’s the middle of Winter, for Chrysalis’s sake!” Instar complained.

“However many times they need us to. The job isn’t fun, but it’s what the hive needs of us.”

“Yeah, but, Propolis,” Instar glanced over his shoulder opposite Spindle, “you know how difficult it is to find anything buried in all that snow back in Equestria. We barely managed to find these two!”

Spindle followed the head tilt he threw back at the tarp-covered cart and shuddered at the thought of what was underneath.

“Yes,” Propolis replied, “but those are two that wouldn’t have been found otherwise.”

“I’m not denying that, but, come on. Is it really worth it? I get it, we need to respect the dead and all, but we’re risking way more by sending a bunch of us out. It made sense when we were looking for those still alive. Not so much anymore.”

Propolis sighed. “You know full well why we’re making our best attempt to find all those that were lost.”

“And that doesn’t make any sense either!” Instar huffed. “I could see doing it for the first few weeks, but, what do you think Equestria’s gonna do with them now? There’s barely anything left to see!”

“It’s not merely about what’s there to see. There are many other reasons we are attempting to retrieve everyling. Perhaps one day, when you grow up, you’ll be able to look at things from the big picture.”

“I am plenty grown up!” Instar shouted back. “I finished my caste training last year!”

Spindle groaned quietly to herself. This group was the worst she’d been in so far. Their bickering had been one of the only constants on the assignment.

As stressful as it could get in Hoofington, she fully admitted to herself how much she missed that group. Even Tarsus with his constant disappointment in everyling. They at least felt like a group, unlike nearly every recovery team she’d been on since.

“Fourteen years old is not grown up.” Propolis deadpanned.

“If I can die in a cave-in as I dig a new chamber, I’m more than grown up enough for the hive.”

“Number one, you may be in the worker caste, but you’re a cook.”

“Yeah, but I could get reassigned to the diggers.”

“They’re called constructors and I doubt it. Second, it’s been at least a decade since the last cave in. And even if you were assigned to them and were required to risk your life for the hive, that doesn’t make you any more capable of conceptualizing ideas at scale. I’d barely consider the far-more-mature Spindle over there as ‘grown up,’ and she’s almost two years older than you.”

“Please don’t get me involved in this,” Spindle groaned aloud this time.

“Yeah, well,” Instar retorted over his shoulder again at Propolis, “all you do is sit in your little classroom all day and hate on workers.” 

“I do not hate on anyling,” Propolis said. “Every caste has their purpose in the hive and workers are no different. Same with us educators, same with—”

A loud caw interrupted them as a raven flew down and landed on the front of the cart.

“Ah, good afternoon. We’re—” Propolis cut himself off. “Wait. Apidae, what are you doing?”

“I’m resting,” their fourth companion huffed, shuffling her black wings. “Plus, we’re like, ten minutes from the hive and there’s no other creatures around for kilometers.”

It was then Propolis’s turn to groan. “No, I mean, why are you a raven?”

“Uh, ‘cause I need to be a bird? So I can fly?”

“You’re not supposed to be a raven. The Guards are ravens. A lookout is supposed to be a red-tailed hawk. How long have you been disguised as that?”

“All day? No other team leader got mad at me for it, including you this morning when I started.”

“Oh, Chrysalis save me…” Propolis muttered. “I didn’t see you then and I bet none of the other team leads did either. Red-tailed hawks tend to fly in circles when seeking prey. Ravens are much more flighty, sporadic, and noisy. Did you not pay attention at all in the training for this?”

“Yeah, I did. But that was like, a ton of information crammed into a few weeks. How am I supposed to remember everything?”

“Because it’s important to your—our continued survival among ponies. Especially because the training was specifically for ‘lings like you and Instar who had never been out into Equestria before.” He let out a long, low sigh. “I swear, if they make me team lead of a bunch of teenagers again, I am going to lose my mind. Alright, just… get down and make yourself a unicorn. We’re about to move off the path. Spindle!”

“Yes, sir?” she called back.

“You ready to start covering?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You’ll smooth over your side of the cart and Apidae will smooth over your and Instar’s hoofprints and whatever we miss.”

“Yeah, got it.” Apidae jumped off the back of the cart and transformed back into a pony.

The group fell silent again, much to Spindle’s relief. A couple minutes later, Instar pulled the cart to the side and onto the soft sand. 

Spindle glanced back for a short moment as her horn lit up, her magic beginning to smooth out the cart’s tracks and her own hoofprints.

The sand felt nice under her hooves compared to the hardened path, but she knew from several trip’s worth of experience that the soft grains would quickly wear down her already exhausted limbs.

Several minutes of magic use later, Spindle’s head turned back to the sky at the sound of another caw. This time, the raven landed on top of the tarp-covered crates and hopped about as it eyed each one of them. A moment later and the scent of a new changeling’s pheromones filled Spindle’s nose.

“Good afternoon,” Propolis began from the other side of the cart. “We’re recovery team nine with a delivery.”

“Very well,” a feminine voice began. “Proceed to the cargo entrance.”

“Will do.”

The raven spread its wings and took off ahead of them.

Instar and the group continued straight and soon came upon a large, rocky outcropping. They traveled around behind it and stopped. On the opposite side laid a long-dead, felled tree and atop it perched the raven from before.

A loud caw came from the raven. “Cargo drop-off! Open the path!” Half a minute later, the raven took to the air as the tree became shrouded in a green glow. It floated to the side, revealing a trio of disguised unicorns, their horns lit with magic at the mouth of a cave.

Once the tree was out of the way, Spindle and the others followed Instar inside. A short ways into the cave, a group of guards disguised as coyotes laid off to the side and eyed them as they passed. Spindle gave them a little smile and nod.

Soon, darkness enveloped the group and Propolis spoke up, “Alright, we’re good. Feel free to drop your disguises.”

One after another, four green flashes of fire illuminated the cave and the darkly lit tunnel became clearly visible to Spindle’s changeling eyes. She continued along her side of the cart as they descended further underground.

A short trek later and the tunnel opened into a large, high ceilinged cave. On the far side sat numerous wide stalls, each labeled with a large number above them. Spindle’s eyes traveled down the row, the same eleven through twenty-six stalls still there since the first time she’d been in vehicle storage. 

The stalls’ contents, however, caught her eye and her eyeridges furrowed in thought. She noticed a couple of the stalls had changelings loading or unloading carts, but she was more surprised to see that nearly all the stalls were full, many containing carts and carriages of all types and sizes. Glancing behind her, she saw eight of the ten stalls had something parked in them.

Since she’d started on the rescue teams a few months back, nearly every cart had been checked out for use outside the hive. With so many returned to their stalls, she couldn’t help but wonder what that meant. Their search and rescue efforts had been yielding less and less, but did this now mean life in the hive might be rearing to go back to normal?

Spindle very much hoped so.

“Here, pull off to the side,” Propolis spoke up, interrupting Spindle’s thoughts. “Let’s get our crystals out first.”

Instar tugged the cart aside as Propolis came around the back and lit his horn. The ropes securing the tarp came undone and he pulled it back before unlatching and lowering the tailgate.

Propolis then fluttered up onto the back of the cart next to Spindle. He pulled the top off one of the barrels, digging a hoof into it and began rooting around inside. “Come on, where are you,” he grunted, leaning deeper into the barrel.

“Ah! Here they are,” he said a moment later, slowly pulling his hoof out and carefully shaking the grains out of the holes in his hoof. After successfully preventing a mess, he turned and slung the bag. “Spindle, catch!”

She instinctively lit up her horn and immediately felt her magic slip off the bag. It clicked in her brain a split second later and she held out her hooves right as the bag reached her.

“Ack!” She fumbled with it before finally managing to pin it between both forehooves. Spindle growled up at Propolis, but, of course, he wasn’t paying her any attention as he magicked up the lid. After sending plenty of annoyance his way, she carefully maneuvered the thing rightside up in her fetlock and set it on the ground.

It still peeved her that they had to use those bags. She understood why, but that didn’t make their getting at their daily love ration any less irritating. Though she would admit it was far better than the alternative.

Said alternative was easily the most memorable portion of her second recovery team trip. The ponies had found out a couple weeks after the invasion that love crystals emanated a very specific frequency of magic, or at least that’s how she understood it.

Changelings at the hive had gotten to work on the eventual solution that was the magic-insulating fabric sitting in front of her. But while they were working the problem, the immediate solution had been to control where the love crystals went. That meant ‘lings taking turns keeping the crystals well outside the company of ponies. It swiftly became a very uncomfortable few weeks.

Though, even with all the discomfort they were subjected to, Spindle considered herself lucky the teams she was on always got assigned to unpopulated wilderness or areas around small towns. She shuddered to think of the nightmare that big cities like Cincinneghti or Manehatten must have been.

“Ah, I thought I heard some arrivals,” a voice called out behind and above them. “Welcome back. What team are you?”

Spindle turned to the wall they’d come in on and saw a changeling looking down at them from one of the office’s archways carved into the wall. The changeling hopped off the ledge and flew down, landing on the floor with a clipboard held in their foreleg. The scent of their pheromones wafted over and Spindle recognized them as the same mare that had greeted the last team she was on and at least half of her teams before that.

“Hello,” Propolis spoke up. “We’re recovery team nine. Where would you like the cart?”

The mare hummed and levitated up her clipboard. “Recovery team nine…” She flipped over a couple pages. “Here we are. You’re in stall seven.” She gestured to the second stall to the right of the entrance. “Place the cart inside with the rear end facing out.”

Instar began pulling the cart to its space while Spindle and Apidae walked over next to the stall. Apidae sat down and closed her eyes with a sigh while Spindle turned her attention to the other three.

“What contents are we looking at?” the storage worker asked as she followed behind Propolis with her clipboard and a short, well-used pencil set against the paper.

“We’ve got a tarp, six ropes, four sacks, three empty, one about three quarters full of solid food rations. Two tents, four sets of sleeping bags, and four saddlebags. Or, well,” he levitated a pair out and secured it to his back, “Three. I’ll return this to storage after we deliver the bag to the commissary.” He tilted his head to the bag of love crystals at Spindle’s hooves.

The mare nodded, writing on her clipboard. “Got it. What else?”

“There are three grain barrels as well. The rear-most barrel is only grain while the other two each contain an expired, resin-encased changeling.”

She continued writing on her clipboard as the cart came to a stop, followed by the loud clunk of Instar kicking the cart’s front stand down.

“And the bodies, are they whole? Missing any parts?”

Propolis shook his head. “Neither are missing anything, but both are significantly decayed.”

“Understood. No identification, then?”

“None that we could see.” Propolis shook his head as Instar walked out of the stall.

She wrote more down. “That’s sadly been the trend lately. Hopefully medical will be able to determine something. How about the condition of the cart?”

“The cart is in fair condition,” Propolis answered. “No big issues, though the rear hatch seems to be coming loose and a couple of the floorboards near the front rattle when not weighed down.

“It’s kinda pulling to the left, too,” Instar spoke up, rubbing at his side.

She jotted down more notes before looking back up. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all I’ve noticed.”

“Alright!” she slid the pencil under the clipboard’s clip. “That’s all I need. We’ll unload and transfer everything to their destinations. You’re good to go.”

Propolis nodded before walking up beside Spindle, his magic opening one side of his saddlebags. “Mind putting the bag inside?”

Spindle nodded, gripping the bag in her fetlock and dropping it in.

He closed and secured the bag and turned to address the others. “Come on. Let’s report to the recovery lead so we can get our new team assignments and start our break.”

The trio followed their leader out the side of the depot and into the hive’s main thoroughfare.

Several other changelings were going about their business as the group made their way through the wide tunnel, sparsely lit by luminescent patches of moss. They passed a few corridors, familiar lettering carved into the wall next to each of them. They caught Spindle’s eyes as they did every time. Vehicle Maintenance, Storage, and then Deliveries passed them by as they came up to the tunnel’s gradual decline.

Instead of walking down the path carved mostly for carts, she saw Propolis’s magic tug his saddlebag’s straps tight before he headed into a side tunnel. Ahead, it turned to a drop and he paused to look over the ledge, then stepped down the vertical wall.

Spindle and the other two followed, carefully walking behind him down the wall. They side stepped around the opening to the second level and the already modest temperature only got cooler the deeper they went. Propolis came to the third opening and, as before, he peeked into the entrance before stepping out onto the third floor’s ceiling.

Nodding to Instar, Spindle waited for him to enter before she continued as well. As she stepped out onto the ceiling after him, she saw Propolis already making his way along the curved wall to the floor. Instar, meanwhile, got three steps into the tunnel before he let go of the ceiling, whipped his body around, and landed onto the floor with a loud clack, before casually walking onward.

Spindle rolled her eyes and could feel his smirk through the pride he let through. Showoff.

She decided to be more practical and follow her leader’s suit, walking at a diagonal until she was level with gravity once more. From the lack of anything other than soft clops, Apidae decided to do the same.

They continued down the hall, passing one crossing hall before turning down the next hall labeled Administration. Beyond, a wooden door and frame on the right contrasted with the hard, earthen walls with the word Controller on it. A door labeled Infiltrator came next on the left. Military after that on the right before she passed to the one door she both dreaded and couldn’t wait for.

The Collector’s door.

Every time she passed that door, anxiety crept over her, though she made sure to keep those emotions to herself. Being in Equestria was… terrifying and yet, at the same time, she missed it. She missed her—friends wasn’t the right word—she missed her fellow collectors. She was only there for a few months, but she missed Vexor’s stoic nature. She missed Skitter’s leadership and especially her cookies. She even missed Tarsus, if for no other reason than familiarity.

But the one she missed most was Firefly.

There weren’t very many changelings who went out of their way for others. It wasn’t necessary in the hive. You learned what you needed to learn, did what you needed to do, and that was it. With how few of them there were, changelings didn’t have the luxury of wasting time or resources.

While Firefly wasn’t the first changeling to spend her efforts on Spindle, she was, by far, the nicest. And that kindness was what Spindle missed about her the most.

She knew it was unlikely that she’d get reassigned to Hoofington again after the recovery was over. Even still, she would be the happiest ‘ling alive if she could just go back there and try one more time.

But, she quietly sighed as they arrived at their destination. Such things would have to wait until later.

Propolis knocked twice on the wooden door.

“Enter!” came a muffled voice from beyond.

He pulled down on the handle and pushed it open, walking in with Instar close on his tail.

Spindle followed, Apidae scuttling in behind her. The large room was nearly empty with enough space for at least fifteen comfortably. At the back sat a single, out-of-place metal desk with a changeling behind it, writing on a sheet of paper. Further back was the door that Spindle had never seen open in the dozen times she’d been in the room.

She figured Queen Chrysalis’s Recovery advisor must be rather busy to leave their office so rarely.

The Recovery advisor’s assistant glanced up from the desk and raised a single eyeridge before continuing with her paperwork. “Propolis.”

“Ma’am.” He nodded in return. “My team and I have returned with a successful recovery.”

She sighed, set down her pencil, and leaned back in her creaky chair. Her horn lit green and a drawer squeaked open, a thick binder floating up and opening on the table. “Your team was assigned fifty square kilometers north of Vanhoover, correct?”

“That is correct.”

“What were your findings?”

“As we made our initial stop at an inn in Vanhoover, we saw no signs of anti-changeling activity within the city. In the surrounding area, we found two long since deceased changelings, all body parts intact, though thoroughly decayed. One was approximately twenty five kilometers north-north-east of town and the other approximately forty-five kilometers north-east. Nothing else to report.”

She wrote down notes in the binder. “Very well.” She put the pencil down and flipped to the beginning of the binder. “Apidae, architect of the worker caste, Spindle, collector caste, and Instar, cook of the worker caste. Is this correct?” she glanced up at the three of them.

Spindle nodded while verbal affirmations came from the other two.

“Thank you for assisting the Recovery caste with this matter,” she said with the same dry tone. “We no longer have need of recovery team nine’s assistance. You three may report back to your caste leads for further assignment. Propolis, once you complete a performance report of your team members due within three days time, you may return to the educators.”

“Of course. I will get started first thing tomorrow morning.” Propolis turned and nodded at the other three.

Apidae and Instar left first, both heading further down the administration hall. Spindle exited and turned the opposite direction with Propolis behind her. 

Midstep, it suddenly hit her. Four months of long days and cold, snowy nights and she was finally done. She would go back to being a collector, maybe get some training on what Equestria had become, and get sent back out.

It was very scary and yet just as exciting.

The liveliness of ponies mixed with the fear of discovery. The amazing food and drinks mixed with the challenge of finding a new source. Spas and suspicion. Freedom of an open world yet confinement to a single role.

She was ready and at the same time so very not ready. She was—

“Spindle!”

“Huh?” Spindle very ineloquently sputtered and turned her head around to find Propolis giving her an amused grin. “Uh, yes?”

“You’re a collector, right?”

“Yes…?” She half asked.

“Then was that not your caste’s office?” He tilted his head back behind him.

Spindle glanced beyond him and embarrassment immediately flooded her at the Collector sign on the door. She’d been so caught up in her own thoughts that she’d completely forgotten about her surroundings or even where she was going. Again. Again again. Pay attention, Spindle! She berated herself.

She turned around fully. “Yes, that would be my door. Thank you,” she said and gave him an awkward, little smile before walking past him.

“Hey, Spindle.”

Her head turned again to him. “Yeah?”

He gave her a smile and a bow of his head. “Good luck out there. You’re a good ‘ling and I hope Equestria treats you well.”

A genuine, flushed smile found itself on her face. “Thank you very much. I hope you all the best as well.”

He merely nodded in response before turning and walking down the hall.

Spindle faced the door and took a deep breath before slowly letting it out. She raised her hoof and placed two solid knocks on the wooden door.

What felt like ages passed before an “Enter!” came from beyond the door.

She grasped the handle and twisted, pushing open the door and stepping into the room. There were very little differences between the Recovery caste’s room and the Collector’s. The most notable of them were the thick, fancy-looking wooden desk instead of a squeaky metal one and several filing cabinets.

Paperwork covered nearly all of the desk, even more so than Recovery’s. It was the same as every other time she’d seen a caste lead’s office. Spindle often wondered if the administrative ‘lings did nothing but paperwork all day long. She kept a frown from forming at the thought.

Though, the not-frown turned into a smile at the ‘ling behind the desk, the Collector advisor’s assistant. She easily recognized Calypter, one of her favorite guest instructors in collector training. He only taught a few classroom portions, but he was always patient and explained things in ways that instantly clicked with Spindle.

“Hello,” Calypter greeted, “what can I do for you?”

“Hello, sir. My name is Spindle. I was assisting with the recovery efforts, but they have released my team back to our castes.”

“Ah, yes. Your file came across my desk recently.” He nodded and scooted back out of the chair. “We’ve been completely swamped since the invasion, so give me a moment to find it.”

“Uh, sure. No problem.” Spindle held back her grimace, only slightly disappointed that he hadn’t seemed to recognize her from training.

A several shifts of paper and a couple drawer searches later and he came back with a folder, setting it on his desk. “Here we are. Now let’s see what we’ve got.”

He looked through her paperwork, slowly reading and flipping through a few pages. “Ah. Hm. Give me a moment, if you would.”

She watched in confusion as Calypter grabbed the folder in his magic and scooted his chair back again. The confusion was swiftly steeped with fear as he trotted over to the Advisor’s door. He knocked once before entering and closing the door behind him.

Spindle only had one other time to compare it to, but when she got assigned to Hoofington, Calypter had looked through her folder, explained her assignment, and answered her questions. Nowhere in that time had he even so much as glanced at the advisor’s door.

She had no idea what he would have needed to discuss, but her imagination provided more than enough to make up for it.

Stop. Spindle cut herself off. Don’t even go there. For all you know, it could be because of something you did on a recovery assignment. Maybe one of the previous team leads wrote something good about you! Think positive!

She tried putting a smile on her face. She’d heard from somepony back in Hoofington that if you acted like you were happy, your mind would eventually follow along.

The smile became harder to keep as the minutes drew on and her traitorous brain kept trying to fill her mind with scenarios of all kinds. Mostly negative scenarios, of course, because she was pretty sure it hated her. Which, it was part of her, so that meant it also hated itself?

She shook the time-inappropriate thoughts from her head. Focus and stop thinking about dumb things. Instead she tried to think of nothing.

It didn’t work very well.

Finally, after what felt like eons, the advisor’s door opened again and Calypter stepped out.

“Spindle? Advisor Arista would like to see you now.”

“O-okay. Sure.” She tried to sound confident, but knew she likely came off as anything but.

He stood back from the door, allowing her to pass by into the room, before he pulled the door closed.

The room was half as large as the front area, but it had a ton more things. There was a fancy desk, chairs both behind and in front of the desk, a huge map of Equestria on the wall behind it with lots of pins and notes, two bookshelves filled with books, several filing cabinets, and even a couple trinkets scattered around.

But the most notable thing was the changeling sitting behind the desk, looking directly at her. He looked the same as any other changeling, but he felt so much more… imposing.

“Take a seat,” he said simply.

“Yes, sir.” She complied, walking over and sitting down on the chair she was pretty sure she’d seen in waiting rooms back in Equestria.

“You have been assisting with the Recovery caste for quite some time now,” Arista began. “I’ve heard good things about the work you did for them. You’ve shown yourself to be a hard worker and you do what needs done.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I similarly requested a statement regarding you from the Hoofington collectors, as well as a training report from the educators.”

Spindle fought to keep her confusion off her face and in her mind. She had never heard of the advisors reviewing a ‘ling’s history and she wasn’t sure if that meant she was exceptionally good… or bad.

“Overall, the Hoofington collectors spoke highly of you with the exception of some naivete. Not entirely unexpected of a sixteen year old changeling, collector or not. You managed to find a source within the first month and were able to become self-reliant within two. In training, you excelled at your exams. Easily the top ten percent of your class. Though, in practice, you were barely average with the most common markdowns being freezing, responding awkwardly or with inappropriate tones, and forgetting small details.”

Spindle tried to swallow what little saliva was left in her dry mouth. She had no idea what was going on. One second he praised her, the next he noted her flaws. Don’t panic. Keep yourself together. You need to show you can do this. You’re better than you were.

“Yes, sir. I learned a lot from training and from the collectors in Hoofington. I think those three months really helped soften some of my rough edges.”

Arista sighed. “Spindle, I’ll be straight with you. Based on everything I have read and heard about you, I think you have an exceptional attitude and drive. You want to do all you can to help the hive and I respect that. The issue at hoof here is that some of those rough edges, as you call them, can have consequences far more reaching than one might predict.

“I read the report the Queen’s scribe took based on your return to the hive.”

A chill shot up her spine and she clenched her jaw. She’d blindly hoped that would have simply gone away. She knew it was foolish, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Arista leaned back in his chair. “None of us blame you for what happened in Hoofington. Your decision to follow standard procedure, move to a new town, and request the hive’s assistance was perfectly sound. My letter containing post-invasion instructions had not yet reached Hoofington before your disguise was compromised.

“Sometimes, though, even with our best efforts, the world will still manage to overwhelm us.” His horn lit and her eyes snapped over to the binder opening. A few pages flipped over before he levitated out a piece of paper, setting it in front of her. “I trust you recognize this.”

Her eyeridges furrowed as she leaned in. The paper was folded in half, as if it had been in an envelope. She glanced at the top and began reading.

Dear Violet,

I’m really sorry to hear you’ve run into hard times. Unfortunately, Peppermint is out for the moment, so I’m—

She gasped and her eyes immediately grew wide in surprise. The letter! I left it back in Cincinneighti! How did—

Spindle glanced back up at Arista. “T-this is the response to my request for help when I was in Cincinneighti.”

He nodded. “That’s correct. Before this, the few examples of your inattentiveness have been fairly harmless. But our luck always catches up to us eventually.

“I’m sure you’re wondering how this letter ended up in your folder. There’s a reason we train every Equestria-bound changeling to make the best attempt at covering any traces of contact with the hive. This letter is a perfect example of what happens when that is forgone.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Spindle managed. “I didn’t mean to leave it behind. It’s just, everything went wrong all at once and I… forgot.”

“Like I said,” Arista calmly reminded her, “none of us blame you for what happened. With that in mind, I want you to know the repercussions this simple action had, if for no other reason than to learn from your mistakes.”

Spindle gave a tiny nod. “Okay.”

He took a deep breath before starting, “After you left Cincinneighti, the manager of The Golden Inn reported the incident to the guard. They investigated and found the only thing left behind: this letter. They followed the only lead they had and collaborated with the Manehatten guard to find the sender.

“Now, the couriers are a clever bunch of changelings. They have to be to distribute and obfuscate everything from simple letters to this very desk in front of me.” Arista tapped his hoof on the solid wood. “They have very interesting measures to mitigate risk for this kind of snooping, but when a quarter of the whole Manehatten guard is trying to find you, things start to get very difficult, especially when there are no indicators of compromise.

“Eventually, the ponies hit their mark and were able to sniff out four couriers in Manehatten. Three were detained and the last managed to escape and notify the hive, but not until a full week had passed. During that time, the ponies set up shop and intercepted our mail. Thankfully, nearly every changeling assigned in Equestria had no reason to communicate with the hive, but not all. Two collectors in other cities were burned with one being taken into pony custody.

“Two infiltrator groups were dispatched and more than two weeks later, all changelings were extracted from custody along with several documents, including the very letter that started it all.”

Spindle didn’t know when the wetness had formed in her eyes as she stared at the letter in front of her. You did it again, Spindle. Good job screwing up. The tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Come on, have some dignity and do something right for once!

She looked back up at the advisor and fruitlessly swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to cause so much trouble.”

“I know. As I said, we don’t blame you for that chaos four months ago.”

“I promise I’ll-I’ll pay more attention on my next assignment. I won’t let something like this happen again.”

Arista took a breath in and slowly sighed it back out. “Spindle, we’ve lost a lot of collectors over the last few months and the hive’s love supply is in very poor shape. The environment in Equestria is more tense than it has ever been and every collector still out there must exercise the utmost caution and care.

“With that in mind, I have received concurrence from Queen Chrysalis that having you return to Equestria is a risk we simply cannot take at this time.”

At those words, Spindle’s world fell out from under her and the tears came unbidden. “Oh,” was the only thing she could get out.

Becoming a collector, out there under the open sky, was the culmination of nearly half her life. She’d worked so hard in primary education just to be considered for the caste. And then, those four grueling years of collector training. All gone.

“Spindle,” Arista leaned forward, softly putting his hooves on the desk, “this is not a punishment. I think you are a good changeling and, again, I admire your work ethic. As the climate in Equestria stands, I think it is best for the hive that you be reassigned to another caste. I have spoken with several other advisors and, out of courtesy for you, I would like to give you a choice between them.

“The worker caste is always needing more bodies. You would most likely be assigned as a constructor or architect. Alternatively, the caretakers lost a few to the invasion and are short staffed. Every one of their members are fully diverse in grub and nymph care and pony maintenance. Similarly, a position has opened with the controllers. You would be working with advisors and their assistants for documentation and archiving. Out of those three, do you have a specific preference?”

“I, uh,” Spindle stammered and sniffed at the wetness in her nose, still trying to process everything. She’d never thought about being a member of any hive-based castes. Her sights had always been outside. Inside, though, she had no desire to work in an office all day, shuffling paper about. Nor did cave digging sound particularly appealing, even if cave ins were as rare as Propolis made them out to be. That only left…

“I guess caretakers,” Spindle said.

“Very well. I will have your paperwork transferred to them tomorrow. For your awareness, there currently are not enough caretaker educators, so I have been told you will be learning while working.”

“Okay.” Spindle tried to put a smile on, but even she could tell it could barely be called one.

“I think you have some great potential, Spindle. After things have settled down and you have a few more years under your wings, I would not be unwilling to reconsider you for the collectors again.”

“Okay,” she repeated. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Before I dismiss you, are there any questions you have for me?”

‘Uhm,” Spindle looked off to the side, trying to search her already frazzled brain. “I, uh, I don’t think—Oh!” She did remember one and looked back to Arista. “Before I came back from Manehatten, I ran into a foal and her mother.”

“Ah, yes. I remember reading about that. What would you like to know?”

“Did they… are the filly and her mother okay?”

“Hmm,” he hummed and turned to her binder, flipping through page after page. Finally, he pulled a few sheets out and began looking them over. “It says in the infiltrator’s report that Bright Resin was admitted to the hospital late that morning.” He flipped a page. “It appears that your venom only paralyzed her for a few hours and she was released after a couple days of monitoring. So yes,” he finished and put the papers back in her binder, “it appears they are.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Of course. Was there anything else?”

Spindle shook her head. “No, sir. That was it.”

“Very well.” He stood and Spindle took that as a hint to do the same. “I will inform the caretakers that you will report to them in four days’ time. Take the next three days to get accustomed to hive life again. You’re dismissed.”

Spindle nodded and turned, heading to the door with Arista following. Passing through the door, she glanced at the desk and saw Calypter look back to her and the door. She gave him a shaky smile and opened her mouth to speak.

“Calypter,” Arista called from behind her and Spindle’s mouth clicked shut. “My office, please.”

“Certainly, one moment to finish this note.”

Seeing it wasn’t a good time, Spindle trotted to the door and exited her now former caste’s office. Outside, she looked left and right down the hall and after seeing no one, she collapsed to her haunches and closed her eyes.

It didn’t feel real. It was silly of her, but she thought she’d be a collector for many years to come. Fantasies about having decades of experience and passing it on to other collectors had once roamed her mind. Now, though…

A wave of fatigue hit her and her body quickly reminded her that she’d only just returned from long days of travel. On shaky limbs, she stood and began her long trek to the quartermaster. She’d pass out in her assigned room, then maybe the next day she could cry it out.

Regardless of what she wanted, the next phase of her life started then and she needed to be ready for what it brought.
> Interlude I ~ Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

”...And finally, two infiltrators were able to successfully establish themselves in Tall Tale as town hall records manager and as postmaster, respectively. Both pony replacements and subsequent cleanup have gone smoothly thus far.”

Chrysalis nodded at her infiltrator advisor. Intelligence in the backwater town might not be the most valuable, but if it would allow additional collectors to more easily take root there, the allocation of two experienced infiltrators would undoubtedly be worth it.

“Understood, Odonata. How soon do you anticipate we will be ready to introduce collectors?”

Odonata winced. “As much as I would like to say soon, the records manager we were able to replace was a fairly new hire. No others were viable with either an abundance of family or friends, or other complications. I would estimate two to three months before she has enough rapport with her co-workers to get the level of unfettered access to records that we would need.”

A grumble left Chrysalis's pursed lips. “That timeline is too long. How feasible would it be to push it to one month?”

“Your majesty,” Odonata began, caution clear in his voice, “I understand the reasoning, but I don't think that would be wise given the circumstances. These ponies are not quite as trusting as we would have hoped. It seems they had a bad experience with a previous manager and are wary of the newbie. She needs time to prove herself as a competent individual.”

Chrysalis merely rose an eyeridge. “And what is your failure estimate if we proceed at the one month point?”

“Honestly, seventy to eighty percent. Her role is fairly introverted, so pushing to integrate herself faster will likely only raise suspicion.”

“Seven weeks, then. We cannot afford to wait any longer.”

Odonata took a deep breath, pausing for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Very well. It isn't ideal, but I will pass on instructions that she is to expect collectors in seven weeks.”

“Good. What else did you have?”

The advisor’s horn lit up and a paper floated in front of him. “The last update is the upcoming infiltrator graduation in just over two weeks. For the final evaluation, we have scoped out locations and this year I have chosen the abandoned village in the Hayseed Swamps, northeast of the hive. With Winter wrap up having passed a few weeks ago, we have begun minor repairs and expect the village will be suitable before the evaluations begin. 

“Per your request last month, I passed on to the instructors that you would be attending the final eval as the capstone townspony target. The instructors are confident and anticipate all four remaining trainees will pass even with the additional challenge you pose.”

“Very good. With the volatile social climate in Equestria, especially with the recent addition of a fourth princess, I expect they may face harsh difficulties from the ponies. I will not go easy on them.”

A smile grew on Odonata's fanged muzzle. “I look forward to the show. It has been quite some time since someling other than myself took that role.”

“I hope the trainees do not disappoint.” Silence hung in the air for a few long seconds. “Was that all?”

“Yes, your majesty, unless you have any further questions.”

“I do not.” Chrysalis rose from her seat.

Odonata quickly rose with her, scooting back his chair and going into a stiff pose at attention.

“Carry on,” she said and turned, stepping towards the exit. She lit her horn and pulled the wooden door open before stepping out into her advisor’s foyer. Outside to her left was Odonata’s assistant, seated at his desk. Beside it was another changeling who swiftly rose and faced Chrysalis, a pair of slim saddlebags on her back.

“Greetings, your majesty,” the changeling offered a short bow before rising and looking up at Chrysalis, a clipboard floating out of her saddlebags. “Are you ready to depart?”

“I am, Alary.” Chrysalis continued to the advisor's hallway door, her aide at her side. Alary opened the door and Chrysalis stepped out into the administration hall. “How much time do we have before the hive health meeting?”

Alary floated out a stopwatch. “Just under ten minutes, ma'am.” She put the watch back in her bag and exchanged it for a love crystal. “Would you like to consume your daily love ration while we walk?”

“No, I will have it after the meeting. There is a planned forty-five minutes break in my schedule afterwards, is there not?”

“Assuming the meeting doesn't run long, that would be correct.” Alary placed the crystal back into her bag.

“It won't.” Chrysalis continued out of the administration hall and turned back to the main tunnel. “These rarely last more than fifteen minutes.”

“That does seem to be the trend, lately.”

The pair continued and, along their walk, other changelings stepped out of Chrysalis's way and offered bows as she passed. They made their way further downward into the hive and soon came to the throne hall. Passing the throne room doors, they continued past a couple other rooms before stopping in front of a planning room. Alary stepped to the side and her horn lit, once again opening the door. 

Chrysalis gave a small nod to Alary and proceeded inside. In the room, Chrysalis noted that all of the meeting's five attendees were present, all of whom rose from their seats, eyes following her. She continued around the table to the far side of the room and took her seat at the table's head. Alary took her place next to Chrysalis and levitated out a notepad, a quill, and a jar of ink.

She looked over the group of advisors that had gathered. “Take your seats and let's get started.”

Once they were settled, Chrysalis turned to the first changeling on her right. “Tergum, let's begin with you.”

“Certainly, your majesty.” The changeling shuffled and read from the papers in front of him. “Medical is set to receive another two changelings from training, boosting our numbers to twenty-six in total. That will leave us fully staffed in all specialties except for surgeons.”

Tergum paused for a short moment and when Chrysalis said nothing, he continued. “Moving on, we have no shortage of medical supplies and are continuing to receive regular restocking from the couriers. Finally, the total number of changelings under our long term care has fallen from three to two, with the release of a fully recovered changeling.” 

“I see. That is excellent.” She still found herself relieved months later that she no longer had to hear of the increasing number of changelings that had been found, brought back, and placed under medical care. Even more so that she didn't have to hear of nearly half those who could not be saved. For months, it seemed every week there would be another of her children succumbing to their wounds.

Fifty-seven in total. She had no doubt that number would haunt her for years to come.

Chrysalis looked to the next changeling at the table. “Cercus, how are the caretakers?”

“Yes, ma'am, I'll start with morale.” Cercus peered down at his papers for a brief moment. “We've received new shipments of books, games, playing cards, and other entertainment stock. I'll be going over them within the next week to ensure they're appropriate according to your guidelines. Next, we've had to cancel the meal portion of our monthly morale event again due to shortage of love. It seems cancelling our last meal had a fairly negative impact overall as changelings were excited to get an extra helping of love. I imagine we will see significantly less participation if this continues.”

“The concern is understood,” Chrysalis began, “however, if we are to survive until we have become a distant memory to ponies, we cannot spare any additional love at this time.”

Cercus nodded. “I understand, ma'am. I have told the other advisors to send word to their hive-based castes that we are aware of their disappointment and that we will be continuing morale event meals as soon as feasible.”

“Very well. What else?”

“Same as usual, there are no changelings or ponies in our prison, so the caretakers have no resources dedicated there. Regarding our captive ponies, we remain at forty-three in pods with no change in number since last week. We have had zero incidents during their walks and, of course, no escapes.”

Chrysalis was far more pleased about that than she knew she should have been. Shortly after the invasion, caretaker staffing had been low enough that they had to take two or three ponies out on walks at a time. It came as little surprise to her that one woke up from their induced haze and attempted to flee. When she'd returned to put the pony back into a love-producing sleep, she was informed the attempt was quickly quelled. She still held suspicions that they had softened the true extent of the incident.

“And the young?” Chrysalis moved on.

Cercus cycled his pages. “Your most recent batch of eggs is developing well. They appear to be on track for hatching in just over two weeks. Both the grubs and the nymphs are continuing to be fed full sized love meals. This generation of grubs are also on track for a metamorphosis in approximately three to four weeks.”

Chrysalis hummed. “Everything seems to be going smoothly for you. Was that all?”

“Yes, it is going quite smoothly indeed. That was everything.”

“Good.” Chrysalis looked to the opposite side of the table. “Katydid. What of the workers?”

“Hello, your Majesty.” Katydid bowed her head. “Keeping the subcastes relevant to the meeting, as always, I will start with the cooks. As you’re aware, our solid food supply was fairly diminished from Winter. Earlier this week, we received our first Spring delivery of foodstuffs. This has brought us back to reasonable quantities and I expect the next few weeks will replenish us to an excess that we can begin preserving.”

Chrysalis nodded. “And of variety? I am growing fairly tired of oats, nuts, and bread.”

“Absolutely. We’ve requested additional foods to include beans, dried fruits and vegetables, preserved fish, high protein grains, and a variety of edible seeds.”

“Good. And what is the status of our culinary students?”

Katydid flipped a few papers over and shored up her sheets. “So far, so good. No change in status from last week. Both gatherer transfers are excelling in their classes at the Manehatten Culinary Institute and are still expected to graduate on time this Summer. Until they return, our single qualified chef will continue passing on her knowledge through on-the-job training.”

Chrysalis nodded. “I believe I speak for the entirety of the hive when I say that everyling would be happy with fresh recipes in the cafeteria,” Chrysalis hummed and put on a smirk, “Actually I do speak for the entirety of the hive.”

Her joke garnered a few, modest chuckles out of her advisors and she had to catch a growing frown with an indifferent expression. As was usual when she attempted to relate to her children, she couldn’t help but feel they were merely placating her. It was more frustrating than she cared to admit.

Mother never had these kinds of problems. But mother was also content with changelings merely existing. Never did she push boundaries.

Her mother also didn’t attempt and fail at an invasion.

Be quiet, traitorous thoughts. She mentally shook herself and focused back to the brief at hoof. “What else do you have, Katydid?”

She flipped to the next page in her stack. “Next, the physical fitness area remains fully functional with only minor equipment failures. All damaged equipment have already had requisition requests placed for them. The track remains usable and in good condition from its resurfacing last Fall. Finally, mortuary services and cleaner capabilities remain fully staffed and trained. And that’s all I have, Majesty.”

“Very good. I’m pleased everything appears to be in order.” Chrysalis raised an eyeridge at the next advisor. “We will come back to you Arista.”

Arista gave a small smile and bowed his head. “As per usual, ma’am.”

Chrysalis skipped to the next advisor. “Kairomone, how is the finalization of search and rescue?”

“It goes well, ma’am,” Kairomone replied. “As I briefed last week, all search and rescue teams have been disbanded. We have passed all records to the infiltrators of the final four unaccounted-for changelings from the invasion force. This week we are finishing documentation of all our actions and will submit our records to the controllers for archival. At that point it will merely be upon your word that the search and rescue caste be dissolved back into the recovery caste.”

“This is good news.” Chrysalis nodded. “Once you have finished your tasks, schedule a meeting with the controllers and coordinate with Alary for my attendance.”

“Understood.”

And then it came time for Chrysalis’s least favorite part of the week. “If there is nothing else, all but Arista may leave.” 

She swept her eyes across each of her advisors, seeing nothing but shuffling of paper and changelings standing from their seats. A few moments later and the only ones left in the room were her, Arista, and Alary. 

She took a breath and turned to her final advisor. “Alright, Arista. What news do you have to ruin my day with this week?”

Arista chuckled and gave her a smile she couldn’t help but find irritating. “I would consider this week’s news to be more… neutral rather than negative. No collectors have been discovered or captured and no crystals intercepted from the gatherer side. However, we still have sourceless collectors at Hoofington, Trottingham, Las Pegasus, Manehatten, Cincinneighti, Vanhoover, Canterlot, and Applewood, leaving us where we were last week with twelve collectors without sources.”

Chrysalis let out a growl. “Twelve last week, and the week before, and the week before that! Oh wait, my mistake, three weeks ago we were only down eleven.” She slammed her hoof on the table. “We’re seven months post-invasion and we’re still losing sources!”

“I apologize, ma’am. Our collectors are doing what they can. With our new procedures requiring very high fidelity information before replacing ponies, many collectors are being stonewalled by the lack of pony individual’s history. Some have reported anxiety and unease over merely maintaining their sources. We are working, but only as fast as Equestria allows.”

“Arista, time is not a luxury we have. All of us are already on half love rations and our reserves are rapidly dwindling. Either the collectors shape up and find sources or we have to kidnap more ponies. I shouldn’t have to tell you which carries exorbitantly more risk.”

Arista shook his head. “No, you don’t, Majesty. I have already instructed lead collectors to assist in potential source identification. The infiltrators are assisting where they can, but they are limited in number and already overtasked.”

“I am fully aware of the status of your fellow advisor’s caste,” Chrysalis spat. “We are discussing your caste’s lack of productivity, not his.”

Chrysalis’s eyes narrowed at the flakes of frustration Arista was letting through and his following, near imperceivable huff.

“As I said, your Majesty, we are trying. My—our collectors are pushing to be as social and sociable as they can. I know we don’t have time, but time is the only thing that will prevent even more collector losses.”

“Then what would you have me do?” she nearly pleaded. “We are all starving. If we don’t come to a solution in a few months’ time, there won’t be a hive left to feed.”

“I—” Arista cut himself off before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I was planning on bringing it up with you today. I… have been toying with an idea for the last few days, now that the hive is relatively stable again. However, I suspect for what I'm suggesting, we will need to make use of a squad of specialized infiltrators. And, of course, it will require time.”

That had her attention, but it brought equally as much skepticism. “Hmm, very well. Go on.”

“The other day, I went to retrieve my daily love ration. What I was given was one of the rare delights,” he levitated up a bag and upturned it onto the table, a loud clatter as a single object fell out, “a love-dense crystal.”

Chrysalis immediately understood. “I see. You suggest we attempt to solve this puzzle ourselves.”

Arista nodded. “This has been going on for years now and there is no time like the present to figure it out. Somehow, these crystals have nearly twice the amount of love that every other collector produces. They can be split into twice as many meals of equal nutrition, just as this one was. If we can understand what is happening and make use of that, we could double the output of every collector.”

“You mentioned including infiltrators. I presume that means you wish to keep this from the resident collectors. You don't think their assistance would be helpful?”

“Honestly, no.” Arista shook his head. “In my opinion, if they had the capacity to solve this on their own, they would have done so by now. I say we try to get an outside perspective and, if need be, request their help afterwards.”

“I suppose I cannot fault the logic. And where would you suggest we start? Hoofington or Ponyville?” 

“Hoofington, definitely,” Arista immediately answered. “There were only two deliveries from Ponyville before the dense crystals stopped and neither of the collectors in town had any knowledge of it. Not to mention there’s a brand new princess there. In Hoofington, however, we know specifically who is producing them.”

Chrysalis nodded, expecting exactly that answer. “The collector in Hoofington, what was her name again?”

“Firefly, your Majesty.”

Chrysalis hummed. It was certainly a conundrum she’d been requesting be answered for quite some time. And if they didn’t do it now, there was the chance they’d never know. Plus, if it turned out profitable… “Very well. I would like to keep that crystal.” She levitated her own out of Alary's saddlebags and swapped it with Arista's, bringing the dense crystal up to her gaze. “Coordinate with Odonata and get on my schedule later this week.”

“Absolutely, I will meet with him today. I will also reiterate to the collector leads the severity of our love situation. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?”

Chrysalis momentarily lowered the crystal from her vision. “No, that will suffice. You may leave.” 

Arista nodded and began shuffling his papers into order. He then took the normal crystal before standing and leaving the room.

Firefly… Chrysalis thought, gazing at the crystal once again and taking in a tiny taste of the rich flavor. Just what secrets are you holding?
> Act II ~ Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roast let out a deep sigh as he finished wiping down the last side of their espresso machine. He plopped the rag back into the cleaning bucket and stretched his back, groaning at the numerous pops. Leaning down, he picked up the handle in his teeth before turning and walking to the kitchen.

Flicking the light as he rounded the corner, he stopped as he spotted the beautiful alicorn at the sink, washing dishes with her magic. Likely alerted by the love directed at her, she turned to him with a smile on her face.

“Hey, sweetie,” Firefly greeted. “All done in there?”

He set the bucket down and reached a hoof to open the janitor's door just inside the kitchen. “Yep. No big messes and no last minute customers to turn away. We should be good to go soon, probably even make it on time.”

“Perfect. I’d rather not make her wait three times in a row.” 

“Same, though I’m honestly kinda surprised there weren’t more curveballs thrown at us. It usually happens on fun nights.” Roast turned into the janitor's closet and dumped the water out. He set the bucket in its place and left to rejoin his wife. “By the way, how’s your love doing? You said something yesterday about needing to make crystals soon.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, finishing scrubbing a fork and setting it into the rinse pile which Roast began tending to. “I probably should do that before we leave. They’re having us bring our crystals to the monthly meeting tomorrow instead of having the gatherers come pick them up from each of us individually.”

“Ah, right.” Roast nodded and set another few forks onto the drying rack. “I forgot about your meeting. Anything special happening this month?”

Firefly hummed in the negative. “Don’t think so. It should be a normal get-together and I imagine it’ll probably last the usual three or four hours. In fact, there hasn’t been anything interesting coming from the hive for, gosh, I think three or four months now.”

“Mhm, you haven’t had many stories to tell other than the usual Tarsus-being-a-butt ones and Skitter’s anti-love training.”

“Yeah, I am so glad those are over. Other than the occasional check in, I think I’ve managed to pass all of her tests.” She sighed and leaned into his side. “And for Tarsus, I want to give him some slack, I really do. But he brings it upon himself most of the time.”

“The ‘we’re here to do a job’ excuse only goes so far. Sometimes you gotta realize that your grumpiness only makes others annoyed at you.”

“Mmm. Maybe I’ll sit him down and try to have a talk about it one of these days.”

A comfortable silence of water sloshing and dishes clinking took over the kitchen. Roast always enjoyed hearing about Firefly’s ‘adventures’ at her meetings. She usually kept the important stuff from him, like the specifics of hive dealings. He had no need to know them and his curiosity wasn’t enough to push her beyond what she was comfortable sharing. Even so, it was like hearing about a fantasy land, so different from the pony world, yet so similar.

Though, soon enough, the last plate and fork were washed, rinsed, and set to dry on the rack. Roast dried his hooves with the drying towel and Firefly wiped down the counter.

“You know, I’ve gotten so used to you making quick work of dishes with your magic. I don’t know if I could go back to the old way.”

“Well,” she said as she laid the rag out to dry and rinsed her hooves, “I’d bet we could probably make it even faster. We could invest in one of those fancy automatic dishwashers.”

“Uh huh, right.” Roast chuckled and rolled his eyes to himself before turning and making his way up the stairs. “And put it where? And with what bits? We already spent a ton on our trip.”

“I dunno,” Firefly said as she reached the top of the stairs and turned into their bedroom, “it's one of those nice-to-have things, you know? Could save us some cleanup time.”

“I agree,” he nodded and watched his wife walk past and open the closet, transforming into her natural changeling self. “Nice to have. Maybe one day.”

She pulled up the floorboard and pulled out the magic-blocking bag her hive had sent her and hoofed the weighty, clattering sack over to him.

Roast took a seat and couldn’t keep the grin off his face in anticipation for the coming show.

Firefly leaned her head back slightly and opened her mouth, but paused and glanced over at him. “I still don’t get why you find this so fascinating.”

He shrugged his shoulders and set the bag on the floor, the love crystals inside clinking against each other. “It’s like watching an artist draw or a craftsman chisel or—”

“Or a bug make some spit?” She raised an eye ridge.

Roast rolled his eyes. “Yes, fine. Or like watching a bug make some spit. Either way, you’re my wife and I love every part of you.”

“Uh huh…” She opened her mouth again and held it there for a few seconds. Soon, clear, viscous saliva began to coagulate in her mouth and her horn lit up along with it. Her magic illuminated and seeped into the fluid filling her mouth. Slowly, her saliva turned pink and her magic drew the hardening liquid out, scraping it along her fangs and lips and forming it into the multi-sided crystal Roast had come to know.

Her tongue began licking along the edges the further it extended, smoothing each facet out before it hardened completely. After around ten or so centimeters, her tongue drew back into her mouth as the crystal’s end came out, tapered to a point with a few last licks.

Firefly then tossed the thing to him and he deftly caught it with a grin, already prepared for her antics. He dropped the still warm crystal into the bag and she started the whole process again.

Three more crystals were tossed in the bag before she finished with a few licks to her chops, cleaning the excess saliva away.

“Well,” she said between a swallow, “I hope it was worth your time. Again.”

Roast stepped forward and nuzzled into her warm chitin neck. “It’s worth it every time.”

“And you are still a sap.” She returned the nuzzle, the sides of her fangs lightly dragging on his fur.

“Always will be.” He drew back and picked up the bag, hoofing it over to her. “Only four crystals this time, huh? That makes only seventeen this month. I must be slacking.”

She took the bag and turned to the closet. “No, around three to four per week is pretty average,” Firefly said as she laid the bag back into the hole and slid the floorboards back into place. “Twenty-two a month is definitely not normal and anniversaries almost always draw out extra love,” she continued and walked past him into their bathroom. Her horn lit up and the sound of the shower head pouring water filled the room. “In fact, I’d be worried for your health if I made that much every month.”

He followed her through the door, their hooves clopping on the bathroom tile. “Yeah, I know. It’d be neat if we could, though.”

“Mhm, for sure.” She idly responded before giving a head tilt to their large walk-in shower. “Now come on. Showering together should save some time.”

“Should, yes.” Roast followed her into their wide shower and closed the glass door, his fur wetting under the hot shower water. “But I can’t reach my back if you’re in here with me.”

“Yes, I know, which is why I’m going to scrub it with my fancy magic. But! No funny business!” She squinted at him as she levitated over his loofah from its hook.

“Excuse you.” Roast raised an incredulous eyebrow and threw in a half-grimace for good measure. “You instigate said ‘funny business’ more often than I do.”

“Yes, which is why I said, ‘no.’” She magicked over a fur wash bottle and squirted it into the loofah, “Here.”

“Why thank you.” He took the lathered-up loofah out of her magic and strapped it to his hoof.





Cleaned, groomed, and prettified, the couple sat in a taxi carriage, the muffled sounds of late evening bustle passing by outside. Roast couldn’t and didn’t care to help the smile on his face, nor the tiny occasional fidget. Getting to spend time with a friend for the first time in a little while did that.

"You excited?"

Roast glanced over at his wife. "A bit, yeah. It's been over a month since we got to see her.”

"It has been a while, huh? Even longer since we got to have her over or go over to her place.” Sweet sighed wistfully. “You know, I kinda miss those first few months when we’d meet up with her at least every week.”

He hummed in agreement. “This winter has been more rough than usual. Coffee sales always go down after Hearth’s Warming, but our friends only became busier in the new year. And now that winter has wrapped up...” he trailed off.

“Now we’re really busy again.” Sweet Leaf finished as the carriage came to a stop at an intersection. “I’m certain we’ve become more than popular enough. Maybe we should revisit the conversation about hiring one or two part-timers.”

“Well,” he raised a corner of his mouth in hesitation, “it’s not an unappealing idea.”

“I know,” Sweet soothed, “it’s not the same as the two of us. But there’s only so many more hours we can force into this alone. Even with the lull of Winter, we shaved maybe an hour on some days. Even a dedicated busfilly for the afternoon would save us a lot of hassle.”

“No, you’re right.” Roast gave her a little smile and rubbed his cheek against hers. “I suppose I’m not as good at change as I wish I was.”

Sweet Leaf stretched her neck back and nosed and nuzzled at his neck. “No one is, honey,” she said as she pulled back and looked at him, a soft smile on her face. “Change can be one of the hardest things to deal with.”

He gave her a half smirk. “Unless you’re you.”

She rolled her eyes and his hindquarters twitched at the bap of a wing. “Even I have trouble with change, you silly stallion.”

Roast lightly huffed as they fell into silence. A short moment later, a break came in traffic and the carriage continued down the street.

“By the way, have you given any more thought about asking her to join your little group?"

He let out a little hum. "Yeah, I have, but I'm still not sure if she'd want to. After they got to meet her at Hearth’s Warming, the others said they’d be happy to have another member, even if she's not a business owner. I mean, Silver, Angle, Sketch, and I started our group because we were all local business owners trying to help each other out, but it's since become more about friends than it has about business."

"Right. So you're gonna ask her?"

Roast gave a little grumble. "I dunno. I'd like to, but I both kind of feel like I don't know her well enough to ask and that she’d be too busy.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy to join. She doesn’t have a lot of friends, so I’m sure even a once-a-month get-together would probably mean a lot to her.”

“I know.” Roast sighed. “I shouldn’t be this… trepidatious about it. We’ve gotten pretty comfortable around each other and I think she’s opened up a lot to us. I—” he paused for a moment before letting out a groan. “I guess I’m afraid that I’ll offend her because we’re not that good of friends or that I’ll spike her anxiety.”

Sweet shifted and bumped into his side. “Hey. I am absolutely certain that we’re plenty good friends to ask this kind of question. As for her anxiety, I feel like you’re treating her a little more fragile than she is. She deals with all kinds of creatures and all kinds of moods. Have a little more faith in her and yourself. Things will work out.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Roast looked over at her and put a loving smile on. The smile quickly faded and he huffed again. “I just… I’m thirty-two years old. I own a coffee shop where I talk to ponies literally all day. I shouldn’t be having these kinds of struggles. I feel like a—like an awkward teenager.”

“Roast,” Sweet Leaf began, compassionate yet firm. “Friendship isn’t always easy. Most of our social interactions throughout the day are on a very basic level. Running a cafe isn’t exactly conducive to forming social bonds during business hours. So, when one of your friendships starts to get deeper, it can be more than a little scary.

“You don’t want to offend or be too forward and risk losing what you’ve built together. But when the time is right and you’ve nurtured the relationship, that risk becomes less and less until it’s practically not even there. Sure, a particular activity might not be something the friend enjoys, but the chance you’ll hurt the friendship by asking will be barely even a chance at all.”

He couldn’t help the little smile that spread across his lips. Sometimes, she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Though, considering... “Thank you. That really does help. But,” he paused and raised an eyebrow at her, “you wouldn’t happen to be reciting that from some sort of… training, would you?”

“No…” she trailed off.

Roast fought his growing smile as he witnessed the blush on her cheeks and her adamant stare out her window.

“Fine, maybe a little.” She snapped her head back to him. “But that doesn’t make it any less true!”

Roast chucked and nuzzled into his wonderful wife. “Coming from you? Not a single bit.”

She let out a huff of her own and faced away from him. After another short moment of the cold shoulder, she relaxed and rubbed back against him.

Silence fell between them again as Roast simply enjoyed the presence and warmth of his wife. Even with the fresh shower, he could still smell the underlying scent that was always Sweet Leaf. She had a different, much more subtle smell when she was undisguised and he’d grown to love that one too, but she always kept her pony smell the same, no matter what form she took.

Too soon, the carriage pulled off to the side of the road and a light double tap from the front signaled they’d arrived.

Roast took one final deep breath and sat up, picking up his thin saddlebags off the floor in his mouth. He pushed the door open with a hoof and stepped down before setting the bags on his back. Turning, he stepped forward to the driver. “Thank you for the ride, ma’am!”

“Yep.” She nodded and held out a hoof. “Fourteen bits, please.”

“Sure.” He craned his neck back and nosed open his bag, digging out his bitbag. Sitting back, he set the bag in his hoof and fished out a ten and a five bit coin. “Here you are. Keep the change.”

The mare nodded again and gave him a smile. “Many thanks, sir.”

Roast put the bag back in his saddlebags and turned back to his wife. “Ready?”

“Mhm,” she replied and trotted to the door before opening it and holding out a hoof. “After you.”

He smiled and headed into the mildly noisy restaurant. The familiar smells hit his nostrils and he breathed in deep. They came here every few weeks, but he’d never get tired of the stir fried, fatty goodness that was their dishes.

Sweet Leaf continued in after him and headed to the hostess podium, Roast trailing right behind.

“Hello!” the tuxedo-top wearing mare greeted. “Welcome to Equestrian Noodles. How many?”

“Hi,” Sweet Leaf began. “We have a reservation for three under Sweet Leaf.”

“Hmm,” the hostess brought a hoof up and trailed it down her list. “Ah! Yes ma’am, the other member of your party has already arrived. Your table is right this way.”

The mare stepped out from behind her podium and led further into the restaurant. Sweet Leaf trailed directly behind her and Roast followed.

Peering around at the tables, Roast recognized a couple customers, but not the friend they’d come to have dinner with. Not but a short moment later, he smiled as he spotted the suit-less pegasus at a booth near the back corner, looking down at her menu.

A few tables later and the hostess arrived. “Here you are! Your server will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.” Sweet Leaf nodded before turning to their friend. “Aura! It’s so good to see you!”

Aura grinned up at them, a half full glass of water already in front of her and menus on the table. “Hi Sweet. Hi Roast. How have you been?”

“Hey, Aura!” Roast warmly greeted as he and Sweet Leaf scooted into the booth. “We’ve been doing fairly well. A little busy, but that’s the life of cafe owners! How about you? The guard still running you ragged?”

Aura let out a polite giggle, her eyes not quite meeting his. “No, it hasn't been that bad in a while. We have had a few more cases than normal, but nothing serious and nothing a little bit of overtime can’t solve.” Her eyes went wide and she quickly waved her hooves dismissively. “It’s not a lot of overtime! Just a couple hours here and there.”

“Hun,” Sweet admonished, lowering her head and raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were going to start asking the other detectives for help when your workload got that high.”

“Yes, I did.” Aura nodded slowly. “And I have been. Sometimes, though, I get caught up detailing a report or going over evidence. I’ve been a lot more conscious about when quitting time is and how long I stay past it. My boss even noticed and told me she’s relieved that I’m spending more time away from work.”

“That’s really good, Aura,” Roast said, not having to force his smile even a little bit. “I’m happy you’re taking more time for yourself and I think it shows. You don’t sound half as stressed as you used to be. And you’re looking better and brighter than we’ve seen you in a while.”

Roast chuckled internally at the way Aura lowered her head and looked off with a blush. The poor thing wasn’t used to other ponies complimenting or being proud of her. He was more than willing to fluster her whenever the opportunity arose.

“Speaking of taking more time for yourself,” Sweet Leaf spoke up again, “How’s your artsy hobbies been going?”

Aura looked back to Sweet and cleared her throat. “It’s going pretty good, actually! I’ve been working on it a few nights every week and it’s been helping a lot with my anxiety. I decided to pick up some sculpting books from the library instead of fumbling around and frustrating myself. And, I uh,” she looked off to the side and stammered a little quieter, “I think my art might have gotten a bit better.”

Roast gave a fake little gasp and reached his hoof over to Aura’s side of the table. “Did I hear that correctly? Miss Refined Aura complimenting her own work?”

That deliciously adorable hunched-over blush came back. “Well, I mean, it’s only that I think it’s—”

“Aura, sweetie,” Roast interrupted, pulling his hoof back. “I’m only teasing. I have no doubt your art and clay sculptures are getting better every day.”

Sweet Leaf hummed and nodded her head. “I’m certain it has, Aura. In fact, I’d love to see how much your art has improved from when we last came over a few months ago. And it would be really neat seeing what you’ve been able to sculpt since you picked it up.”

Aura took a deep breath, seeming to regain some of her usual composure before she nodded. “It would be nice seeing you two again outside of restaurants and the customer side of your cafe.”

“Definitely!” Roast agreed. “It would be great to spend more than a couple hours with you at the end of a night.” He turned to Sweet Leaf. “Do you know of anything we have going on next Sunday or the Sunday after?”

Sweet shook her head. “I don’t know of anything, no.” She turned back to Aura. “How about you, hun?” 

“Hm. I feel like next Sunday could work. I don’t have any plans and they shouldn’t be needing me at the office next weekend. How about, uh, one or two in the afternoon?”

“Two works for me!” Roast beamed.

“Sounds like we’ll be seeing you at two o’clock next Sunday, then,” Sweet added.

“Hey you three!” Roast and the mares turned to see their waiter step up to the table. “Welcome to Equestrian Noodles. I’ll be your server for the night.” He turned to Roast and Sweet. “Is there anything I can get you two started to drink?”

“Water for me, please.” Roast said.

“Same.”

“Excellent! Are you ready to order or do we need a few more minutes?”

“I’ll need a few minutes,” Roast said. He was well aware he was probably the only one who needed some time.

“Sure, no problem. I’ll be back with those drinks soon.”

“Thank you,” Sweet said as the stallion trotted off and turned back to the table. “I guess we should find out what we’re gonna order, huh?”

Both he and Aura agreed, but Sweet and Roast were the only ones to pick up their menus. Aura was polite, though, and made a show of looking over her menu.

Roast glanced over at his wife and didn’t know why she even bothered looking at it. She always got the same thing every time: pho with edamame noodles and tofu patties. High in protein, plenty of fat as she liked to say. He snorted to himself. Exactly what a growing changeling needs.

He, on the other hoof, always had trouble deciding what he wanted. Alfredo did sound good, but so did spaghetti. And lasagna. And—

An elbow to his side knocked him out of his culinary soul searching. He turned and raised an eyebrow at his wife who was holding the tall menu straight up in front of her. She met him, eyebrow for eyebrow, and flicked an eye over to the mare across from them. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head in question.

Sweet rolled her eyes and whispered, “are you going to ask her?”  The din of the restaurant made it difficult even for him to hear her.

But hear her he did and Roast returned her an eye roll. “Yes,” he whispered back. “But we need to figure out what we’re going to eat first. I’ll ask after that. I don’t want to hold up our food.”

“Roast, I’m not going to let you get out of it this time.” She raised the stakes by adding a purse to her lips.

“I know and I’m not trying to. Give me a minute to decide on my food and I’ll ask her later.”

She leaned her head closer. “That sounds like an out. You’ve been wanting to do this for months and, every time, you chicken—”

“I know. I didn’t mean to last time and I’m going to do it this time. Just let me decide on my food! Okay?” He huffed and gave her another raised brow and called her pursed lips with a pair of his own.

“I, uh,” Aura interrupted, both the couples’ menus falling forward to the table as they turned to her. “I can go use the restroom or something if you two need a few minutes.”

“Ah, no need.” Roast quickly replaced his frown with a smile. “We were merely discussing what I was going to get. As much as I try, my… indecisiveness can get to her sometimes.”

“Yes. It can, but only out of love.” Sweet Leaf kept her eyebrow raised at him for a moment longer. “I believe we came to a decision, though, yes?”

He nodded, keeping the smile affixed to his face. “Yes indeed! I’m going to go with a new approach! Ramen sounds particularly good tonight.”

Aura glanced at the two of them for a moment longer before shrugging. “Well, okay then. I’m going to give the lo mein a try.”

“Sounds good!” Sweet Leaf said happily. “And I am going to get my usual.”

Roast noticed out of the corner of his eye that his wife’s chiding look had been completely replaced by a jovial smile. He quietly took a deep breath and let it go, trying to send all his frustrations with it. He knew she did those kinds of things out of love, but sometimes, he wished she’d let him deal with things in his own time.

But now that he was there…

“Hey there, everypony! Here’s your waters.” Their waiter came back, a tray of water glasses in his hoof.

Darnit! I was just about to work up the nerve!

“Now then,” the waiter said as he distributed the last glass, “have we decided what we’d like to eat?”

“Yes,” Roast quickly spoke up out of habit, but quickly realized this wasn’t his group. There wasn’t a race to see who could order the onion tower appetizer first. He cleared his throat, trying to settle his nerves. “I’d like the miso ramen with tofu, please.”

“Sure thing, and you?”

Roast stared down at his menu as the ladies ordered their meals. It wasn’t that big of a deal. He knew it wasn’t and he told himself it wasn’t. But still, for whatever reason, his brain refused to get the hint.

“Perfect! I’ll get all that put in for you,” the waiter said, drawing Roast’s attention back to the group. “Could I get those menus out of your way?”

They each picked up and passed over their menus.

“Thank you,” the waiter nodded his head before trotting off.

Roast took a deep breath and decided now was the time.

“Hey, Aura. By the way, I wanted to ask you a question.” Roast began, anxiety suddenly rushing up his chest. He still had no idea why this was so hard. The chances of her thinking less of him were laughably small. And even if she said no, it would still be fine. It’s not like their friendship would suddenly end.

“Yes? Go ahead.” Aura replied with a small, reassuring smile and Roast realized he’d been staring at her for a second or two too long.

“Well, I was wondering, if you think you had the time and were interested,” Roast definitely didn’t ramble and definitely returned her smile, “my friends and I, the ones you met at Hearth’s Warming? We get together every couple weeks or so, sometimes for dinner or bowling or other things. I was wondering, after having okayed it with the others, if you’d like to join us some time?”

Roast’s smile brightened a tad as he felt his wife rub his thigh supportingly.

“Oh, huh. Uh,” Aura scrunched her eyebrows and looked down at the table. “I don’t know, it didn’t particularly feel like I made much of an impression back then.” She looked back up. “So, I’m not sure. I wouldn’t like it if I ended up dragging your night down.”

It wasn’t a no, but Roast knew it wasn’t exactly a yes, either. “Aura, you would not be dragging us down. My friends and I have talked about it a few times and they agreed that it would be nice to get to know you. And we’re a small, friendly group. I don’t want you thinking about it as you ‘tagging along,’ but rather having a fun night with four friends. You definitely won’t get ignored or treated as the fifth wheel, either, especially with Quick Sketch there. He’ll want to know all about the amazing Refined Aura.”

The blush came back up on her face as she looked down again. She paused for a long moment before closing her eyes and visibly taking a deep breath. “You know, I’ve had other ponies invite me to after-work functions or to game nights and I’ve almost always turned them down.

“I… haven’t really told anyone this, but the reason I turn them down isn’t because of whatever excuse I use of ‘I’m busy’ or ‘I’m too tired.’ The reason is because I’m scared that if they saw me as the nervous wreck I often feel like, I’ll ruin everything or they’ll think bad of me.”

Aura took another small breath and looked back up at Roast. “But my therapist and I have been talking on and off about getting me into more social situations outside of work. This might be time to make good on that.”

A gentle smile came unbidden and happily accepted onto Roast’s face. “Thank you, Aura. I feel very honored that you’d share that with us. I promise you that neither Sketch, Angle, Silver, nor I will think bad of you no matter what happens and that there’s no way you could possibly ruin anything at our get-together. We would be more than happy to have you.”

“Then, in that case, I think it would be nice to join you. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course!” Roast said. “I’ll let the gang know the next time I see them. We used to have our outings once a week, but everypony kind of got busy. I think our next one is due in two or three weekends. I’ll let you know when we see you next Sunday.”

“That sounds great. I’ll look forward to it.”

Silence filled the table for a long moment. Roast was both relieved and jubilant at that outcome. He felt his wife’s hoof on his under the table and he looked over to her. She’d put on her big, proud smile and it looked like his wife was right, yet again. It had gone over even better than he’d expected.

Must be that changeling intuition. Sometimes I wish I could get some of that.

“By the way,” Aura spoke up again, “you two had your anniversary last month, right? If I remember correctly, you went to… Las Pegasus?”

“Ah hah. Yes, we did. It was absolutely wonderful,” Roast said, fondly remembering their trip. “A much needed vacation.”

“It was definitely both of those things.” Sweet Leaf added. “Five days in the city, though we hardly saw a fraction of it.”

“Was it the ‘second honeymoon,’” Aura made air quotes with her hooves, “that you planned it to be?”

Sweet Leaf giggled, resting her head on Roast’s shoulder and Roast rubbed his cheek on her mane. “It sure was and it was so refreshing.” she continued. “I got to feel like it was really my honeymoon with my stallion.”

“And I got a second honeymoon with my beautiful mare.”

“Mhm,” she agreed.

“We visited all kinds of places.” Roast continued. “We went to an escape room, rode some roller coasters, saw some magic shows, went to the ‘world’s largest arcade,’ and a bunch more. The suite was wonderful as well. Bigger than the cafe’s entire upper floor. It had a living room, a kitchen, a huge bedroom with a curtained, four-poster bed, and a bathroom with a jacuzzi big enough to fit eight ponies.”

“Sounds like a fun time.” Aura said, grabbing her glass in a wing and taking a sip.

“Oh yeah, it definitely was. Oh!” Sweet Leaf exclaimed as she quickly righted herself. “Speaking of fun, we happened to meet this very… competitive stallion while we were at the arcade.”

Roast burst out in laughter. “Hah! I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sweet Leaf said before turning to Aura, a big grin on her face. “You know what air hockey is, right?”

Aura nodded, a pleasant little smile on her face. “Mhm, I’ve seen it played, but never played it myself.”

Sweet Leaf nodded back. “Alright, so Roast and I were playing a bunch of games, just him and I. Of course, he destroyed me every time, ‘cause he’s an absolute monster at the game.”

“Eh,” Roast shrugged his shoulders, “my brother and I hung out at one of the Fillydelphia arcades a lot when we were growing up. We got kinda good at the game over the years.”

Sweet Leaf rolled her eyes and made air quotes with her hooves. “‘Kinda good.’ Uh huh. Right. Anyway, Roast usually isn’t a competitive guy, but with air hockey, there’s this shift that happens and it’s so awesome to see. And I know he’d been taking it easy on me, even after I’d asked him not to.”

He received an elbow to his side and looked over to a squinting Sweet Leaf.

“Yes, okay, fine,” Roast dramatically drawled. “I admit it, I was going easy on you. But come on, it wouldn’t have been fun otherwise.”

“Nope, not true. I was having fun because you were having fun and that wouldn’t have changed anything.” Sweet rubbed her shoulder against his. Roast couldn’t keep the loving smile from forming on his face.

“So after like a dozen games and lots of spent credits,” Sweet Leaf continued, “some other stallion came up with his friends. He called out nice and loud that he’d been watching Roast and I play and that he was kind of a big deal in the air hockey scene. He’d gathered a bit of a crowd and challenged Roast with a hundred bits if he won. The absolute disbelief that came across Roast was… amazing.”

Roast grunted and brought his mouth up to a thin line. “I’d been occasionally watching him play a few tables away between my and Sweet’s rounds. He was… decent. At best.”

“Mhm. So you know what Roast does?”

“Oh my gosh…” Roast exhaled and wiped down his face with a fetlock. “I’d forgotten about this part. Do you have to?” 

“Yes,” Sweet said simply and turned to Aura. “Go ahead, guess what he did.”

“Uhh, he beat him?” Aura chanced.

“Ha! Nope. Not yet, at least. He turns to the guy and says,” Sweet puffed up her chest and put on her best Roast impersonation, “‘well, I guess you might be able to beat my wife.’”

Aura furrowed her brow in confusion. “Uh, I mean if the stallion was that bad, then that doesn’t seem unreasonable.”

Roast could only barely cut off the laugh that shot out his mouth and he pointedly ignored Sweet’s peeved stare. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you. Aura, dear, I’d essentially said my wife sucked at air hockey.” 

Aura’s brow kept furrowed for a moment longer before her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with a hoof. “Oh! Oh no! Roast!”

“Oh yes!” Sweet injected. “He called me out right there, in front of everypony.”

“Look, it was a slip of the tongue,” Roast defended. “I was in the heat of the moment and I didn’t mean for it to go that way.”

“I know,” Sweet Leaf said softer, giving his neck a little nuzzle, “I’m just giving you a hard time. Nopony really even noticed it anyway. I can’t even remember the last time you trash talked somepony like that and I’m so glad this one was so memorable.”

She sat back up and faced Aura again. “Long story short, I’d managed to score maybe one or two points against Roast every ten-point game. This guy? Roast definitely upped his game and I think he and Roast settled on seven games?” She glanced over at Roast and he nodded. “Well, this guy, he managed to score four points.”

Aura gave an approving nod. “That’s not too bad. Especially if Roast went all out.”

“Four total. Across all seven games.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Sweet raised her eyebrows and nodded. “The guy was absolutely furious at being embarrassed in front of everypony.”

Roast chuckled. “I will definitely admit that it was very amusing watching him fume over to the front desk to pull out the bits. I gotta give it to him though, he was pretty upset—”

“Exceptionally upset,” Sweet interjected with a grin.

“Exceptionally upset.” Roast nodded. “But, he never once called me a cheater nor tried to change the rules. And he did hoof over every bit. Never saw him again after that.”

“Wow,” Aura said. “If your whole week was like that, it sounds like it was quite an adventure.”

“It wasn’t that fun all the time, but there were lots of fun moments.” Roast smirked and glanced over at his wife. “Lots of fun times. Kind of like, oh I don’t know,  the time you unsilenced a mime?”

Sweet immediately buried her face in her hooves. “Augh! Come on!” She looked up at Roast. “It’s not my fault I’d never heard of mimes before!”

Roast leans in to nuzzle Sweet’s neck. “Tit for tat, sweet cheeks.”

She let out a deep sigh and waved him off with a hoof. “Fine. Tell the story.”

He turns back to Aura, “Okay, so we’re out in the early evening on the Las Pegasus streets, seeing the sights and we happen to come across a mime. Classic black and white outfit, face paint, and everything. Well, we show up right as the mare ‘runs into’ an invisible wall. Then she looks around and locks eyes with Sweet, probably because of the stupefied expression. The mime starts knocking at the invisible walls around her, making panicked faces. And what does Sweet do? She sprints right over and…”







The door thunked closed behind Roast as the couple entered their cafe. He locked the door before following his wife up the stairs, letting out a tired and satisfied sigh at the wonderful time they had. But it was late and both of them could definitely use some shuteye.

Before that, though, he did have one thing he wanted to address.

“Honey?” Roast spoke up as they entered their bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom.

“Mhm?” Sweet hummed as she stopped at the sink.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She paused as she reached out to pick up her toothbrush. “Yes?” Sweet turned to face him.

“We had a really great night and I’m very happy with how everything turned out.” Roast began with a smile at Sweet Leaf. “But, I did want to talk about what happened earlier tonight and my feelings on it.”

“Okay.” She nodded and her mouth curled up into a small smile. “Which part of tonight?”

Roast breathed in deep. “It was about when you were pushing me to ask Aura about joining me and my friends.”

“Oh.” Sweet’s smile twitched downward a little. “Well, I was only—” She cut herself off and let out the breath she’d prepared. She sat down. “No. You say your piece first and I’ll wait until you’re done.”

“Thank you, Sweet.” Roast’s smile grew a little more before he faded it away and grew more serious. “I love you and I appreciate what you did and were trying to do. I was… rather upset at how you kept pushing me even though I’d said I intended to ask her. It hurt that you kept going, as if you didn’t trust my word. I understand that I had let the opportunity slip past me last time, but I felt it was a little uncalled for for you to continue pressing and treating me like a foal.”

Roast sat down and breathed deep. He nodded and let the silence fill the room, intentionally signaling he was finished and awaiting her reply.

“Well, um,” Sweet began, the smile having dropped from her face and her eyes turning down to look at the floor. 

She continued focusing on whatever had caught her eye and Roast patiently waited for her to find her words. It was times like these that made Roast wish he could know how she was feeling. Though, as every other time the thought ran through his head, it probably wouldn’t be a good thing. He already didn’t like seeing hurt on her face. To feel it as well would be even worse.

After a short time longer, she looked up and met his eyes. “Let me say first that I’m sorry, Roast.” She offered him a quick sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. That wasn’t at all my intention. Regardless of how I felt, it didn’t make it right for me to say what I did and belittle you, especially in front of Aura. I guess…” she sighed and scrunched her lips for a moment. Her gaze fell away from his again. “I guess I let my frustration at your inaction boil over and I took it out on you instead of talking to you about how I felt or letting you handle it in your own time.”

Sweet’s eyes came back up to him and she nodded.

He gave a genuine smile in return. “Your encouragement on the way over really did help. And honestly? Even though it hurt, I’m happy you’re continuing to be yourself with me. I’ve said it before, but I like seeing the unfiltered you, because it means you are participating in our relationship, not a calculating mask like it used to be.”

“Sometimes I like the mask better.” Sweet said quietly. “I’m a trained and experienced collector. I had to go through rigorous evaluations to ensure I knew how to respond in so many situations. But when it comes down to being with my husband, it feels like walking a tightrope.”

Roast tilted his head. “How do you mean?”

“I… I guess it feels like I have to balance all my trained behaviors, the need to keep you happy and producing love, to acquiesce to whatever improves the relationship the most, to let little grievances slide off the face of Sweet Leaf. But I also feel like I have to balance myself and my own actions. You want the real me, the me that reacts based on how I feel, not a cold and calculating set of responses.”

She held a hoof to her chest. “And I want that too! It’s just… sometimes when I let go, I say and do things I don’t mean. And sometimes I don’t even realize it! I could feel your frustration and anger when I was pushing you tonight. I think, in the back of my mind, I reveled in it a little. The frustration you caused me by never following through and then lamenting about it afterwards, it felt justified to make you feel some of the annoyance I felt.

“It’s wrong and it goes against everything I was trained to do and it frustrates me that I can do that to you and not have the decency to notice.”

“Sweet…” Roast shook his head before moving in to hold his beloved wife. “I’m not a psychologist and I haven’t been trained on the intricacies of social interaction. But from where I stand, you’ve never had a real, deep relationship before.” He paused, rubbing into her neck as she returned his embrace. “You’ve never been able to let yourself be hurt at what others do. You’ve never been able to take a step into a relationship and talk out your frustrations before. You’ve always been staring in from the outside.

“Once you find yourself with someone you can trust and be yourself with, those feelings you’re used to shoving aside and distancing yourself from can come out in ways you don’t expect.” He gave her a tight squeeze. “We knew that going in, or at least some part of it. Seven months into your first, real relationship isn’t a very long time. I have no doubt both of us are going to stick our hooves in our mouths and say some dumb things.”

He pulled back out of the hug and looked her in the eyes. “But that’s why we have to keep doing exactly what we’re doing right now. We’re in this together and we both want the best for each other. When I do something that gets under your fur, you sit us down and we talk, just like we’ve been trying our best to do. And I’ll keep doing the same for you. Sound good?”

Sweet Leaf snorted and gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. It does sound good.” She leaned in and he accepted her back into his embrace. “I’m sure I’ll get this lesson through my thick skull at some point.”

Roast rubbed his cheek against hers. “And I’ll be here for as many bathroom talks as we need.”

She snorted again. “You’re a ridiculous pony.”

“Mhm.” He held her tight. “Your ridiculous pony. Always.”





“Hmmm, no. That’s not right,” Roast quietly muttered around the pencil in his mouth as he squinted down at the page on the desk. “If Silver Shine left at seven and she’s part of group two, Velvet couldn’t have left before her.”

He tapped his hind hoof against their bedroom floor in thought. It certainly fit into the very hard category, the author wasn’t lying. But that’s exactly why Roast bought the company’s books. The challenge was part of the fun.

Their bathroom door opening drew his attention away and over to the mare exiting from it.

“Hey, hun,” Sweet Leaf greeted as she trotted over to the desk. “Chewing away at those puzzles again? Which one do you have this time?”

“Mhm.” Roast nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Just a logic grid puzzle from Brain Teasers’ latest volume.”

Sweet scrunched her nose. “I’m glad you like those things. They’re neat, but not my style. Too involved for me. I’ll stick to my sudoku or kenken if I want to stare at a grid for hours.”

“Yeah, when you get stuck, it can be pretty tough to unravel the flawed logical connections.” Roast glanced at the clock on the desk before turning to fully face Sweet Leaf. “It’s ten-thirty. You about to head out?”

“Yep.” Sweet Leaf walked to the closet and slid open the door. She pulled down a pair of saddlebags before starting to pull up the floorboard. “I’ll try to be home by two-ish so we can get our shopping out of the way.”

“Alright. Did you still want to go to the park after?”

She pulled out the magic-insulating bag and twisted it up tight before setting it into her saddlebag. “Yeah, if there’s still time in the day. We haven’t taken a walk through the trails in a long time.”

“I could still go shopping while you’re out and save us some time.”

Sweet shook her head and tightened the saddlebags around her waist before closing the closet door. “Nope. I like going shopping with you. Plus I want to see what kinds of breads and cheeses they have this time around.”

Roast nodded and stood up. He walked over and she smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Alright. Well, you have a good time and I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Yep. See you in a bit, honey.” Sweet gave him one last smile before turning and walking out the room and down the stairs.

Sitting back down, Roast picked up the pencil in his mouth and got back to his puzzling pastime. Box after box he circled or crossed out, connecting times and places and ponies before he finished and double checked his work. Satisfied, he turned the page to the next puzzle and lost himself in thought.

It wasn’t until his ears swiveled back at the sound of the kitchen door unlocking, opening, and shutting that he was pulled back to the real world. He glanced down at the clock on his desk and raised an eyebrow.

Eleven-fifty. Back after not even an hour and a half? He thought and turned to stand up out of his chair. As he took a step to the door, hoofsteps resounded against the hallway stairs. He furrowed his brow, heartbeat accelerating, and wondered if maybe they should have invested in a baseball bat.

The hoofsteps reached the top of the stairs and a few steps later, Sweet Leaf stepped around the corner. The breath he hadn’t remembered holding let itself out and his muscles relaxed their tension.

“Hey, honey. Back so soon?” Roast put on a smile as his heart calmed itself.

Sweet Leaf returned his smile. “Hey, hun. Yeah, only a few of my friends showed up and one of them got tired and decided to go home early. We decided to wrap it up and try again next month.”

“Hm, alrighty.” Roast said before smirking. “I bet it was Tarsus that went home early, huh? That’d be his style alright.”

Sweet Leaf’s smile dipped and she stared at him.

Roast furrowed his brow. “Sweet?”

She shook her head clear and her grin was back. “Sorry, I got lost in thought. Did you have a good time while I was gone?”

“Uh, yeah,” Roast answered. It was odd, but he chalked it up to maybe something odd happening at the meeting. He’d ask about it again later. “Got through a few puzzles and I was going to do some more flavor testing, but since you’re home early, I guess that means we can get an early start on our day. Looks like we’ll be able to make it to the park after all.”

“Yep!” She said as she walked over to the bed and unbuckled her saddlebags. “But I gotta use the restroom before we do anything.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting.” Roast watched as she set her bags on the bed.

She turned around and walked past their bed and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

He raised an eyebrow. She usually put her bags away when she got home. Then he shook his head. Duh, we’re going shopping right after. And her magic bag should still be inside.

Figuring he could be helpful, he stepped over to the bed and opened one side. Taken aback with surprise, he found it completely empty. As in really empty. He hadn’t remembered her cleaning the thing, but maybe she did when he was with the gang a couple weeks ago.

Shrugging, he closed that side and opened the other. His brow furrowed again at the other side, just as empty and clean. He picked it up and twisted it around, but found no other pouch or anything where it could hide. Setting it back down, he walked over to the bathroom door.

“Hey, Firefly?” He called out through the door. A few seconds passed.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to your bag?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Are they dirty?”

Roast paused for a moment at ‘they’ before realizing she must be talking about her saddlebags. “No, your saddlebags are fine. A lot cleaner than I remember them. But I meant your love crystal sack. It’s not in your bags. You didn’t happen to leave it there, did you?”

A couple more seconds passed and Roast’s mouth turned down in a concerned frown.

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Uhh, I must have left it there. I’ll see if I can drop by and grab it later.”

“Alright,” Roast said, still frowning. “Is everything okay in there?”

“Yep! Just about finished.”

Roast gave the door an odd look before deciding to let it go. If she wanted to tell him what was going on, she would and he would let her do it in her own time. The stray thought shot through his mind of her testing him after the night before, but he quickly threw it out.

She wouldn’t do that, especially after their talk.

He gave the door a final parting look before stepping away and taking a seat sideways at the desk chair, facing the bathroom. Another half a minute passed before he heard flushing and then the bathroom door opening a few seconds later.

Sweet Leaf stepped out and turned to look at him. “Okay! Ready to go to the park?”

Roast gave a little confused head tilt. “I thought you wanted to go to the market first.”

“Hm,” she tapped a hoof on her chin, “I was thinking, maybe... since I got home early we could go to the park first, then go shopping.”

“I suppose we could. We have been wanting to go for a while.”

“Alright!” she said cheerily. “Let’s get going!”

Roast pointed over to the bed. “Did you want to take the saddlebags so we can hop over to the market after we’re done?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I think I’d like to enjoy a few hours out, away from everything. We can come back for it later.”

“Alright, then.” Roast stood up out of the chair and gave her a grin. “Lead the way, my little lovebug.”

She gave him one final cheerful look and headed out the door.

He followed her down the stairs and out the kitchen door into the cool, mid-spring weather. He closed the door behind them and stood to the side. He gave her an odd look as she continued walking down the alley.

“Sweet?”

She turned back with a questioning look. “Yes?”

“You gonna lock the door?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry. We haven’t been to the park in a while and I got a bit too excited,” she said as she walked back and reached under her wing, pulling out her keys and locking the door. “There. Ready?”

“Mhm.” Roast shrugged it off and started off down the alley, this time next to his wife. “So, was I right about who left early?”

“Uhm,” she hesitated, “no, it was somepony else.”

“It wasn’t the new guy, was it? What was his way-too-tacky name, Cobalt Strike? I thought he was supposed to be experienced.” He glanced over as they left the alley onto the side street.

“Yeah, it was him,” Sweet said quickly. “He mentioned something about needing to go run some last minute errands.”

“Ah. Well, hopefully he doesn’t turn out like Bobby Pin.” Roast let out a sympathetic little hum. “Though, I doubt anyone could get as bad of luck as she did.”

“Mhm. Right.”

Roast gave a sideways glance at her. “Are you sure everything’s okay? Did something happen?”

Sweet Leaf stopped on the sidewalk and she gave a deep sigh. Her ears flicked back and she ruffled her wings, her tail flicking back and forth before settling. “No, nothing happened. Nothing important anyway. The one who left early… was me. Someone got on my nerves while I was there and I got fed up. I’ll tell you about it later, but right now I’d like to enjoy a nice walk with you. Is that okay?” She finished, looking over at him expectantly.

He immediately gave her as big a reassuring smile as he could and leaned in to nuzzle her cheek. “Of course, sweetie. I’m sorry for pressing. I’ll let you bring it up when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Roast.” She gave him a little smile and continued on.

Roast stepped alongside her, following onto their shop-filled street proper, away from the cafe. He wasn’t really sure what to talk about. He wanted to let her settle down, since she seemed to be aggravated and most of his questions since she got home probably hadn’t helped. Nodding to himself, he decided that he’d let her start the next conversation when she was feeling up to it.

Silence, once again, filled the void between them. He rarely minded it, but he was never comfortable when his wife wasn’t. Knowing she was upset was upsetting to—

“Oh my goodness! Sweet Leaf! Roast!” A light purple mare called out across the street. She left the shop’s little outdoor display area and rushed over to them, taking care to look both ways. “Hi!” she exclaimed once she’d reached them. “I can’t believe I caught you! I’ve been so busy at work I haven’t been able to drop by.”

Roast kept his eyebrows in check out of politeness. He didn’t recognize the mare, but they did have a lot of customers.

“Hi.” Sweet Leaf replied, albeit with much less enthusiasm. “I’m afraid I don’t remember meeting you.”

“Oh! Sorry.” She scrunched her shoulders sheepishly, her pink mane falling a little over one eye. “I go to your cafe every now and then. It was amazing luck that I happened to see you passing. I’m going on vacation in a couple days and I left an emerald pendant when I was at the cafe last. Do you think that I could grab it real quick?” She gave them a big, pleading grin.

Roast did remember finding the pendant a few days ago. But, when he glanced over at Sweet and saw the deep breath she was taking, he knew the answer right away. “Sor—”

“Yes, I don’t see why not.” Sweet Leaf replied, very obviously trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “It’s only right around the corner, after all.”

Roast looked over at her. “Sweet, are you sure? We might miss it if we take too much longer.” He fibbed a little, hoping to give her an out.

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We’ll still be able to make it, even if we have to take a carriage.”

“Oh, thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Sweet Leaf merely nodded and turned around towards the cafe.

Roast followed along beside her, giving her a glance and hoping this hadn’t frustrated her too much. The purple mare followed close behind them. They crossed the side street again, Sweet leading them to the front entrance of the cafe. A few shops down and she entered their gated patio. She pulled the keys from her wings and unlocked the door, holding it open for Roast as she passed inside. He turned to the mare.

“If you’d give us a moment, we’ll—”

“She can come in, Roast.” Sweet Leaf called back, halfway to the kitchen.

“I…” He turned back to the mare. “I guess come on inside.” He walked in and held the door for her. Turning to the kitchen, he made his way through.

“Hon, I think I changed my mind. And yes, I’m sure,” Sweet said as she sorted through their lost and found basket. “Could you go get my saddlebags?”

Roast stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Honey, we can still go to—”

“Please?” She huffed and turned her head to him.

He clenched his teeth. He wanted to argue further, but with the guest there and her already sour mood…

“Alright,” he said curtly. “But we’re going to need to talk about this.”

“I know,” she whispered and turned back to the basket.

With nothing left to say, he turned back around and headed to the stairs, glancing through the walkway to the dining area as he went. The purple mare simply smiled at him as she stood politely off to the side.

Letting out a huff, he continued up and around the corner and into their bedroom. Her saddlebags lay on the bed, right where he left them. Walking up, he picked them up in his teeth and turned around.

Roast gave a start at Sweet Leaf standing in the doorway, looking at him. He hadn’t even heard her come up the stairs.

Setting the saddlebags down next at the foot of the bed, he gave her a confused look. “Sweet? Is everything okay?” 

She answered by stepping into the room and he became even more confused as the purple mare followed in behind her.

“Sweet?” He asked again, seriousness taking over his voice. “What is going on?”

“Who are you?” Sweet Leaf asked, her voice far harsher than he’d ever heard her.

“What do you mean? I’m—” His eyes grew wide as ice ran down his spine. “You’re not Firefly, are you?”

“What an amazing deduction,” Sweet Leaf sneered. Green flames overtook her body, leaving a changeling in her place. A second later and green flames flashed over the purple mare as well. A grin formed on not-Sweet Leaf’s fanged face and it spoke in a light, two-toned voice. “This is the point where we’d usually say, ‘Surprise! We’re changelings!’ But I guess all I can say now is, ‘Surprise! I’m not your wife!’” All signs of jovialness fell from her face. “Now. I asked you a question.”

Roast let out a shaky breath. “I… don’t know what you want. My name is Fine Roast. I, alongside my wife, own the shop you’re standing in.”

“Mhm. I could believe you.” The changeling freshly stripped of his wife’s face began circling him. She stopped near the closet and faced him and Roast’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two. “There’s no way you’re a changeling. I could write a book on how bad you are at hiding your emotions. Then that means you must be a pony. Except, you know things you very much shouldn’t know.

“And apparently,” she continued, “your ‘wife’ knows you know these things, too. Now why would she be okay with that? The way I see it, she has just as much explaining to do as you. Which brings us back to the question. Who. Are. You?”

Roast didn’t know what more he could say. He didn’t even know what they wanted. He glanced at the door between swapping his gaze back and forth. There was no way he could make it, not with the changeling standing right there. He wasn’t a good liar, especially not if they could tell what he was feeling. So that left one option.

“I-I’m Fine Roast. On paper, I am married to Sweet Leaf, but in actuality, Firefly the changeling is my wife. She and I have been together for four years and she is the lo—”

“Stop bucking with me!” The changeling by the closet stomped her hoof on the floor, sending a loud echo throughout the room. “Who are you leaking information to?!” She stomped closer. “What branch are you with?!” Another stomp. “The Hoofington Guard? The Royal Guard? EIS? Tell Me! Or we will pull it out of you bit by bit and I promise it won’t be pleasant.”

Roast tried to stop the clattering in his teeth. “I can’t tell you what isn’t true. I’m not leaking information to anypony! The only one I’m ‘with’ is my wife! I’m a cafe owner. That’s it! I make coffee and I—”

“Shut up.” She charged and shouldered him in the chest, shoving him onto his haunches. Before he could do anything, her horn lit up and she dipped down, shoving him with her magic and body onto the bed.

He scrambled with wide eyes to get off his back, but her magic kept him pinned and she immediately jumped up onto him.

“You wanna keep your secrets, that’s fine. Even if you’re telling the truth, it wouldn’t matter. Either way, it’s a long stay back at the hive. For both you and your wife.”

Roast’s eyes shot open. “No! She hasn’t done anything wrong!”

He felt his head seized with magic as she lunged down at his neck. He gasped as two sharp pricks jabbed into him. Within seconds his limbs became heavy and unresponsive.

“No, Ple-pleath.” His tongue wouldn’t listen. “Doehn tahk har… I loeh… ah… lahv… ahh…”

His voice refused him, all that would come out was nonsense and panicked breaths. Even his eyes denied him movement, leaving only the ceiling and the top of the changeling’s head in his vision.

Not even a minute later, she released him and his head flopped over uselessly on the bed. The other changeling came into his vision, turning its head to the side to match Roast’s, a scowl on its face as it spoke in a deep, masculine voice. “Don’t worry, it’s just paralysis. Won’t stop your breathing or your heart. Yet.” He chuckled. “The real fun comes later after we detain your traitor of a wife. Now sleep. You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Mister Fine Roast.”

The changeling’s horn lit up and Roast’s vision slowly faded to black.


> Act II ~ Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sweet Leaf! Welcome and come on in.” Long Scroll stepped back out of the doorway and waved a foreleg into his house.

“Thanks, Scroll.” Sweet Leaf smiled, rubbing her hooves on the doormat as she passed into the entryway.

“Of course!” Scroll closed and locked the door. “Do you have your crystals?”

Sweet Leaf nodded. “I do. One second.” She turned to her side, nosing open her saddlebags and pulling out her tightly twisted up sack in her mouth. “‘ere oou go.”

“Many thanks!” He took the bag in a fetlock and tilted his head back. “We’re in the living room as always. I’ll be in after I put these away. Feel free to tell the others we’re clear to change.”

“Sure, can do.” Sweet Leaf nodded as he turned and headed down the hall. She followed him past the family photos of him and his husband. As he continued straight, she turned right and went through the first doorway. A quick scan of the room and Sweet nearly pursed her lips at the fact that she was, yet again, the last to arrive. It was the third month in a row she’d been last and she’d been meaning to correct the pattern, but she had let it happen once again.

“Heyyo! There she is!” The near offensively pink mare seated at the far couch beamed and waved a hoof high in the air at Sweet Leaf.

“Hey, Rose,” Sweet replied as she unstrapped her saddlebags and set them over next to the other saddlebags. She then trotted to the other couch and took a seat next to Warm Plate.

“Hello, Sweet Leaf.” A white mare sitting on the other couch next to Rose Petal nodded and gently smiled at Sweet Leaf.

“Hi, Silver.” Sweet returned her smile. “How’s Hoofington been treating you?”

“Pretty good.” Silver Star levitated her cup of tea from the coffee table. “I’m finally getting settled in, and life with the ponyfriend is going great. They’re a way better source than the last town, thanks to Skitter’s connections.”

“That’s really good. Oh, by the way,” Sweet Leaf looked around to all the other changelings, “Skitter told me that we’re good to change.”

“Hot damn, finally.” Rose sighed without even a hint of her usual bubbliness before transforming into Vexor.

Firefly dropped her disguise and began pouring herself a cup of tea. “That’s funny. Usually it’s Tarsus that’s grumpy at this point.”

“Hey!” Tarsus transformed and glared at Sweet.

“Oh hush, you know it’s true.” Vexor levitated up a cookie and a napkin. “And I got a nasty cold last month. Being back in my own chitin feels wonderful after that miserable train wreck.”

“A cold?” Silver Star asked, the last to transform. “Is that common in Hoofington?”

“Thankfully, it isn’t,” Skitter said as she came around the corner and headed for her usual spot on her loveseat. “At least not any more common than most other towns. We don’t get a whole lot of changeling traffic, so it was likely one of those rare pony-changeling cross-species viruses. But it is Spring, so I’d bet it was a holdover from flu season last year.

“By the way, everyling. After four months, Pincer here,” Skitter nodded to the recently transformed Silver Star, “has finally managed to advance her relationship with her ponyfriend enough to produce love crystals.”

“Hey, congrats!” Firefly clapped her hooves together a couple times and gave Pincer a big smile.

“I could have gotten that far with him in three.” Tarsus said under his breath.

Vexor cleared his throat. “It’s them. And I doubt it.” He turned to Pincer. “And certainly, congratulations are in order! It’s quite the milestone. Here’s to a long and fruitful collection!” He levitated his tea cup into the air.

“Hear, hear!”

“Definitely!”

Everyling joined in the cheer except Tarsus, Firefly noticed as she took a sip of her tea. She almost rolled her eyes at his typical unused tea cup, plate, and napkin.

“Speaking of disguises,” Skitter said, putting her cup back down on its saucer, “the hive sent out a request for us lead collectors to try and solicit methods to keep our acting skills sharp. I’ve thought up a method I’d like to try for today and the next couple meetings.” She levitated up a box, a pile of books, and five clipboards with sheets of paper on them. “I present to you, Ogres and Oubliettes.”

“That’s a bit unexpected.” Vexor raised an eyeridge. “We’re already acting in the form of our roles with our sources and around pony society. Why do they think we need additional practice?”

“Well,” Skitter began, magicking over a set of books to each changeling, “after the wedding, we lost a bunch of collectors. Pincer here can attest to that, her skills notwithstanding.” Skitter nodded to their newest collector and received a smile back. “The hive isn’t saying how many, but I’d guess at least half a dozen to a dozen, if they thought it necessary to ask in-field collectors for suggestions.”

Tarsus hummed. “Okay, but, how is this supposed to help? We do a little role play and suddenly we’re better collectors?”

Firefly looked back to Skitter. She thought the idea was neat, but she kind of agreed with Tarsus. It didn’t seem like all that effective a strategy.

“The thing is,” Skitter continued, “In O ‘n O, play is usually relatively slow paced. During combat, players are usually given between thirty and ninety seconds to make their decisions. Each full turn lasts six in-game seconds. Today, we’ll be going with ninety seconds per player to get used to the game. However, I expect you all to take these books home and study them. Become familiar with the universe and get to know the characters I’ve created for each of you. Because next game,” she lowered her head and looked at each of them in turn, “you will have forty-five seconds during your turn to make a decision. All sessions after that you’ll be limited to fifteen real-time seconds.”

“What the heck!” Tarsus cried out. “That’s way too unfair! There’s no way we can learn that much in two games!”

“Tarsus, would you please calm down,” Firefly gave an exasperated sigh. Maybe she needed to follow through with what she told Roast and sit Tarsus down for a talk. “Skitter is doing this for a reason and I think I can see what she’s trying to do. Real life rarely gives us time to think out our actions, so why not emulate that with a game? Plus, we have two months to prepare. It’s not like this is happening next week.”

“Right you are, Firefly.” Skitter smiled at her before addressing the group again. “I also intend to include your performance in my quarterly briefs to the hive.”

“That—hmph. Fine. Whatever.” Tarsus crossed his legs and Firefly couldn’t help picturing him as a colt that just got told he had chores to do.

“I, uh, have a question,” Pincer started.

“Mhm?” Skitter hummed.

“Well, I was kind of thinking… aren’t these get-togethers supposed to be about relaxing and getting away from our daily stressors, not adding to them?”

“I actually second that,” Vexor jumped in. “I was definitely looking forward to today specifically as a time to unwind and recoup. I’m not certain we can maintain any decent level of performance if we’re worried about the next meeting on top of our daily roles.”

“Hmm. I suppose I see your point.” Skitter tapped a hoof on her fangs in thought.

Firefly didn’t have that big of a gripe about it, but that might be because of her new method of relaxing and unwinding around Roast. Thinking about it, she could see things from the others’ point of view. Maybe…

“If I could make a suggestion?” Firefly spoke up and the others turned to her. “I understand and I like the utility of making the game more challenging and life-like, but maybe we could go about it a little differently?”

Skitter furrowed her brow. “I’m listening.”

“How about instead of making this about how fast we can make decisions, we make it about how well we can perform. We could use the next couple of months for settling into our characters and the group, and then we rotate them every month or two. We’d have to make decisions based on how the character thinks. It would keep the game challenging, but still fun, friendly, and relaxing.”

“That’s… a pretty good idea.” Skitter raised her eyeridges and nodded in appreciation. “What do the rest of you think?”

“I like that a lot better, yes.” Vexor nodded. “I think that could be fun, but perhaps still include regular get-togethers every now and then.”

“Tarsus?” Skitter turned to him.

“Yeah?” He looked up to her. “Uh, I guess that works. I mean, I still don’t think we need practice for the thing we’re already doing every day, but at least it won’t be as bad.”

“Good enough.” Skitter nodded. “Alright, do any of you have to leave within the next three or so hours?

Firefly shook her head along with the others. She technically didn’t have anything to do, but she really did want to go shopping with Roast and then go out for that walk through the park. They didn’t get to spend a lot of time outside the cafe, but if they only got to do one thing later, that was fine. Keeping the others from getting suspicious was more important than a night out.

“Perfect!” Skitter said with a big grin. “Then let’s get our chats out of the way and move to the dining room table in, say, thirty minutes?”

Firefly shrugged and nodded. A little sacrifice now was worth the rest of the month with him.





“On my mark, Ivory and Breeze,” Tarsus began, glancing at Pincer, then Firefly, “and we shall show them the meaning of holy retribution.”

Firefly only barely managed to hold back her snicker.

Tarsus paused for a few beats, then yelled, “Let's show them Tartarus!”

“As you charge around the bushes, all four timberwolves are already facing your direction and growling thanks to Amethyst Glow’s loud battle cry.” Skitter said, rolling a die behind her cardboard screen. “Roll a d20 for initiative and add your dexterity.”

Firefly glanced at her four dexterity, then picked up her twenty sided die and gave it a roll. “Fifteen.”

“Twelve,” Pincer said after her own roll. 

“Eighteen,” Vexor added.

“Five,” Tarsus grumbled.

“What did you roll, Tarsus?” Skitter asked.

He huffed and looked away. “Two.”

“Alright, so since my character is already poised to strike, she goes first on a surprise round.” Skitter began. “Then she goes again in the normal initiative, then Vexor, Firefly, Pincer, the timberwolves, and… Tarsus, your character managed to recover from tripping over a root. You go last.”

“Stupid dice.” Tarsus crossed his forelegs and grumbled some more.

“Okay.” Skitter spoke up. “Reminder that you’ll all need to pass a d20 AC check of thirteen before you attack. You’ll all add your class modifiers and proficiency bonus. Except you, Firefly. Since you used Wild Shape and took the timberwolf’s form, you take its strength, dexterity, and constitution stats.” She addressed the group again, “To hit them, the number you’ll need to meet or beat is thirteen. Otherwise, you miss. I won’t always tell you the AC in the future, but you all are still learning.”

Skitter cleared her throat and continued. “Serene Meadow sneaks out from behind a tree and sneak attacks the rightmost timberwolf.” Her horn lit before one die, then a couple more, clattered behind her screen. “Ah, damnit!” she cried out in Serene’s voice. “Piss off you overgrown saplings! She does ten damage to the rightmost timberwolf with her surprise attack and its attention is now drawn to her. The timberwolves then go into an offensive stance and growl and snarl at the lot of you. Alright, because Tarsus decided to shout your arrival, none of you share in the surprise round.”

“What?!” Tarsus threw his hooves in the air. “That’s completely unfair!”

Skitter shrugged. “You yelled and broke stealth. These things matter. Just be glad you’re learning this on easy fights. With that, it’s back to Serene Meadow again.” Skitter rolled a die behide her screen. “…And misses, her dagger sliding off its back, barely leaving a scratch.”

“Stop sucking, Meadow!” Vexor rolls his dice.

“It’s not my fault!”

“Uh huh, sure!” He rolled a die. “I got a fifteen to hit. I loose my arrow at the same timberwolf for,” a couple more dice roll, “nine damage.”

“And that’s one timberwolf waaaay down!” Skitter cried out in Meadow’s voice. “Get ‘em Breeze!”

Firefly gave her best impression of a timberwolf howl. “I charge the left timberwolf and perform a bite attack.” She magicked up her d20 and rolled it, “I got a seventeen to hit.” She rolled her d4. “And I also do ten damage.”

“Another ten damage.” Skitter scribbled behind her screen. “Timberwolf bites against creatures also have to succeed on a 1d20 strength saving throw,” Skitter said. “With your strength modifier of one, you’ll need to roll a ten or greater.”

“Uhh, okay.” This game was more complicated than Firefly realized. She rolled and sighed in relief at the number. “Eleven plus one.”

“Alright, that’s ten piercing damage and the timberwolf staggers backwards in pain, surprised at being attacked by a fellow timberwolf,” Skitter replied. “Pincer, your turn.”

“This fight will be over before it begins,” Pincer spoke up as she rolled her dice. She winced as she looked down at them. “I gallop forward and attempt to smash my hooves into the middle right timberwolf and only do four damage, thusly eating my words.”

“Don’t forget when you do your unarmed attacks, you can do another as a bonus action.”

“Oh, right!” Pincer rolled another d20 and promptly blew a raspberry. “Nope, miss.”

“Two damage and a miss, alright. Your first strike barely manages to knock a few sticks off its hide, while it shifts out of the way entirely of your second. And with that, it’s now the timberwolves’ turn,” Skitter said and began rolling several dice before peeking over her screen. “The middle right timberwolf makes a lunge and bites Ivory Rose for nine piercing damage.”

Pincer let out a restrained scream, “I will not be beaten so easily.”

Skitter looked over to Tarsus. “The middle left timberwolf attempts a bite at you, Amethyst Glow, but misses as you shift away just in time. The final timberwolf is staring you down, Firefly, uncertain what to do. It’s going to growl and hold its turn. And now it’s back to the top. Amethyst, you’re up!”

“Today is not your day, you worthless imitation!” Tarsus cried out.

“Timberwolves are technically their own species, Ammy!” Skitter called in Serene Meadow’s voice.

“No one asked you!” Tarsus glared at a grinning Skitter before rolling his die. “And today is especially not your day! Natural twenty to hit!”

Firefly cheered with the rest of the group. “Nice!”

Tarsus rolled another die. “That’ll be six doubled plus two!”

“Augh!” Skitter cried out. “Get this green tree goop off me! You didn’t need to blow it apart! Screw you, Amethyst!”

“Apologies. I believe this is what the foals call, ‘deserved,’” Tarsus harrumphed.

“Ugh…” Skitter mock wiped her face before rolling her dice again. “Serene Meadow attacks the last undamaged timberwolf for six damage. Vexor, your turn.”

Vexor rolled his dice. “I loose my next arrow, finishing off that timberwolf with eight damage.”

“Great!” Skitter said. “The timberwolf takes an arrow nice and deep in the shoulder and is very unhappy. Firefly, you’re up.”

Firefly growled. “I lunge at the last, wounded timberwolf.” Firefly grabbed her dice and rolled. She grumbled at the second d20 roll. “And I fail the bite’s strength save by four.”

Skitter rolled some dice. “Okay, so, as you go to bite at it, it reels back out of the way and headbutts you to the ground. You are knocked prone and the timberwolf is freed from its stupor. It’s going to then take its held turn, lunging forward and biting Flowering Breeze for eight damage.”

Firefly inhaled and let out her best howling scream.

“Breeze!” Tarsus cried. “Hold on!”

Pincer grabbed her die and rolled. “Damn. I run to plant the timberwolf back in the ground, but I miss. Again.”

“Hehehe.” Skitter grinned and rubbed her forehooves together. “And that means it’s the timberwolf’s turn!”

Firefly’s eyes grew wide. “Wait! I thought the timberwolf just went!”

“Nope.” Skitter shook her head. “And yes, technically. Turns can be held until a specific action or until a character desires to take it. If the character’s next turn comes up in the initiative order, the held turn is forfeited. It took it before then, so it gets to take its next turn as normal.” Her horn lit up and dice clattered behind her screen. 

Firefly’s eyes raced across the timberwolf’s page, but none of it helped. She hadn’t even considered that eleven HP wouldn’t be enough! She thought for sure that surprise would keep her safe.

“The wounded timberwolf limps forward a step and lunges for Breeze’s neck, dealing—”

Everyone paused at the doorbell ringing from the hallway.

“That’s probably them.” Skitter pushed her chair back and got up. “Don your disguises, everyling, just in case.”

“Wait, who’s them?” Vexor asked, transforming into Rose Petal. “And you can’t leave us hanging like that! Is she dead or alive?!”

Skitter changed into Long Scroll and winked. “You’ll have to wait and find out.” Her male form turned and clopped his way along the kitchen tile and onto the wood of the main hallway.

Firefly, along with Pincer and Tarsus, shifted back into their collector disguises. A few seconds later, the front door opening and quiet talking resounded from the hall.

“Them?” Tarsus echoed Firefly’s thoughts as he looked at each of the other disguised changelings.

Vexor shrugged. “News to me. I had no idea anyling else would be joining us today.”

Multiple sets of hooves on wood floor grew louder and Firefly and Vexor looked to the hallway while Pincer and Tarsus turned their chairs to see the newcomers. A moment later and Long Scroll came back into the room followed by two mares.

Firefly near-immediately sensed two unfamiliar sets of pheromones. As she looked over the two, the leftmost mare met Firefly’s gaze. Firefly’s attention reverted to Long Scroll as he addressed the collectors.

“Alright, everyling. These are a couple guests staying in Hoofington for the next few weeks or so. They belong to a newly formed survey team ordered by the hive. Everything they’re going to ask of you, I’ve already gone through. So, please have confidence in their abilities. With that, I’ll let them take it from here.” He made his way back to his seat at the end of the table.

The disguised mare on the right stepped forward. “Good afternoon, everyling. Skitter is correct. I am the leader of a group formed on-demand to perform research surveys on collectors, their skills, and their sources. I’m sure you have many questions, but we’ll get to those in a little bit.”

That… doesn’t sound good. Firefly thought. She’d have to warn Roast about this as soon as she got home. Her eyes flicked back to the other mare and a chill ran down her spine. Her eyes were still on Firefly. Calm, girl. It doesn’t mean anything.

“You may call this disguise Crystal Flash and,” the survey leader dropped her disguise, leaving a masculine-looking changeling in her place, “you may call me Clypeus. This here is Capitate. She’s my right-hoof ‘ling while we’re here.” He gestured to his companion. Her eyes finally came off Firefly as she dropped her disguise, then smiled and waved a hoof at the collective group.

“Circumstances permitting, I will be remaining in Crystal Flash’s disguise during our time in Hoofington. However, my team members will be alternating disguises as needed. Keep your noses out for ours and other new pheromones. I wish I could have introduced the rest of my team, but we’re a few too many to have easily and surreptitiously made it in Skitter’s wonderful abode. Instead, the rest are idling outside around the block.

“Now then,” he began slowly pacing back and forth in the kitchen, “you know what we’re here to do. However, how we’re going to do it is trifold and these are in no particular order. First, we’ll be conducting an interview with you about your sources. We’ll ask about their behavior, their apparent feelings towards you, the kind of activities you partake in, and many other questions. We don’t have time for this today, so we’ll schedule a time to conduct it with each of you later.” 

Easy peasy. Firefly held back her grin. I’ve honed my emotions and reactions more than enough over the last several months.

“Next,” he paused his pacing, “show of hooves, are there any of you here who do not think you’ll be able to have three to five outings with your sources in the next month?”

All of the collectors kept their hooves down.

“Perfect.” He resumed his pacing. “We’ll be observing your and your source’s interactions during these outings. We’ll provide instructions later on how to inform us of these ahead of time, to the best of your ability.”

That’s not too bad. Firefly quietly hummed to herself. Roast and I can definitely make that work. Though do I even tell him? He might get performance anxiety and blow the whole thing. Hmm…

“Finally,” Clypeus paused again and faced the changelings at the table, “during your interview we’ll be asking a few, more personal questions. These questions will help us in our last goal, which is to take your place for a day, preferably on a non-working day.”

Firefly held back a wince. That was going to be less easy. It might be best for us to act as if I’m not even a changeling for the next couple months. No way to spill the beans if the beans are safely tucked away.

“Now, before we continue, I’d like to have a word with Skitter in private.”

Long Scroll nodded and got back up, following him back out the hallway.

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Vexor spoke up, “Well, this next month is going to be interesting.”

Tarsus hummed in agreement. “I’ve never heard of the hive conducting one of these.”

“Same here.” Firefly nodded and pursed her lips. “I’m guessing the hive is trying to figure out if there’s any commonalities among us undiscovered collectors. I’d bet they already interviewed the collectors that got sent back to the hive.”

“Oh, speaking of,” Vexor turned to Pincer, “did anything like that happen to you before you got reassigned?”

Pincer shook her head. “Nope. If they did, it was probably after I got sent out here.” She looked over to the remaining survey ‘ling. “Hey, Capitate, is this the first city you all have been to?”

“Clypeus will be answering questions as soon as he returns,” Capitate answered simply.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Pincer shrugged.

Firefly shrugged as well, but she kept her confusion tucked away behind a little smile. That seemed kind of odd to her. It was a simple question, unless they had multiple teams. Except Clypeus made it sound like there were several other members. There’s no way the hive had enough trained infiltrators or collectors or whatnot to spend on more than one of these.

That feeling in her gut was nagging at her.

“Anyway!” Vexor broke the silence again. “That O ‘n O game was crazy, am I right?”

“Seriously!” Tarsus exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. “Skitter can eat chitin dust for keeping us in suspense like that. Right, Firefly?”

Firefly shrugged again, her feelings matching back up with her smile. “I do want to know what’s going to happen to Flowering Breeze, but I’m sure Skitter has her reasons.”

Tarsus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like being a smarmy little—”

“Firefly!” Skitter’s undisguised voice barked from the hall as hoof clacked loudly against wood.

“What?” Firefly put her hooves up defensively. “Tarsus said it, not—”

“I need to speak with you.” Skitter, undisguised, stomped through the doorway, her hard gaze set unmovingly on Firefly. “Now.”

Firefly’s breath caught in her throat. “Uh, sure. Okay.” She pushed her chair out and got up. She made her way around the table and her nerves were building as both Skitter and Capitate eyed her like a hawk.

“Come.” Skitter turned and walked back down the hall.

Firefly followed and a burst of panic filled her as she noticed Capitate trailing behind. She watched Skitter turn into the livingroom and a few steps later, she herself paused at the doorway. The coffee table had been pushed aside, now cockeyed to the left with used tea cups and napkins scattered across it. Skitter stopped where it had been and turned around with a scowl while Clypeus held a neutral gaze.

“In.” Capitate ordered.

Firefly stepped into the room. She glanced back and saw Capitate had stopped at the doorway. She was certain her breathing exercises would be of no help here.

“It seems you haven’t been entirely honest with me, Firefly,” Skitter said low, commanding Firefly’s attention forward again.

The silence hung and Firefly realized it wasn’t a rhetorical statement. “I… am not sure what you mean.”

“Horseapples!” Skitter's eyes narrowed at Firefly. “I wasn’t training you out of your love. You were keeping me blind.”

Firefly felt like her heart skipped a dozen beats. “I-I didn’t! I wasn’t! I promise! I loved those sessions!”

“I cared for you, Firefly. I spent dozens of hours with you. It didn’t even cross my mind once.” Skitter’s glare faded into sadness. “But to think, you’re nothing more than a spy among spies.”

Firefly’s eyes shot wide open and she vigorously shook her head. “No! I’m not! I haven’t done anything like that!”

“Feeding the ponies intelligence?” Skitter’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Why, Firefly?”

“I didn’t!” Firefly growled. They weren’t listening! “Not even once in my life!”

“Firefly.” Clypeus began, his voice firm and even. “By the power vested in me by the great Queen Chrysalis herself, I am placing you under arrest for treason.”

“I am NOT a TRAITOR!”



“You will keep your voice down,” Clypeus hissed.

Firefly huffed and glared at the two changelings. “I am not a traitor. I have never once acted against—”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I care,” Clypeus cut Firefly off. “While the survey team was here, we were instructed to perform an investigation into your source and your love-dense crystals. We impersonated you preemptively for the survey, and what a surprise it was to find that Fine Roast knew all about the Hoofington collectors. He knew their names and he knew of today’s gathering. He even knew about your love crystals. Do you deny this?”

Firefly’s jaw nearly clattered in anger. “You know what? No. I don’t.” She looked to her leader. “Skitter, I’m sorry for lying to you. I promise I loved every second I spent with you, but I had a reason.”

“What reason, Firefly?” Skitter almost sounded desperate. “What could possibly lead to this?”

Firefly’s eyes flitted back and forth from one changeling to the other. She settled on Skitter, took a deep breath and spoke.

“I love him.

“I love him more than anything. But more than that, he loves me.” She tapped a hoof on her own chest. “Not Sweet Leaf, the disguise. But Firefly, the changeling. He’s known about me for years and I only found out after the invasion. Heck, he didn’t even know what I was until—”

“And yet you told no one,” Clypeus accused.

“No, I didn’t!” Firefly stamped her hoof. “And you want to know why? That exact reason you came? That’s why. My love crystals are so dense because it’s love directed at me, not at Sweet Leaf. Not at some facade.” The words spat out of her mouth with more venom than she knew she had. “If you take me away, if you break us apart, you lose that.”

Clypeus huffed and glared at her. “Even if that’s true, you told a pony about changeling state affairs. And even if what you say isn’t a lie, it’s no longer within my control. Fine Roast has already been taken captive and is on his way back to the hive.”

Ice cold water doused Firefly’s fury and she was vaguely aware of her haunches hitting the floor. “W… what?”

“The changelings will have delivered a message to the queen and she will be expecting you. You may plead your case with her.”

“N-No, please!” Her hind legs shot back up. “It’s not too late! It was today! I would know if it wasn’t! They can’t have made it far!”

“Firefly…” Skitter said softly as she shook her head. “This isn’t up to us and it wasn’t up to you. The rules are in place for a reason.”

“Why?! Why are they in place? How could this possibly have been a bad thing?!”

“I don’t know. That’s for the queen to answer, if she chooses.”

Firefly’s mouth trembled open and breath caught in her throat. The taste of her salty tears filled her mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut. It can’t be real. We’re going to go to the park, spend time together. We’re going to see Aura soon and—

She gasped and her eyes shot open.

“What?” Clypeus asked, raising an eyeridge.

I can’t tell them. They can’t know. But they’ll find out on their own. At this point, it’s a guarantee. They know about the interrogation. It’s only a matter of time and that’ll spell Tartarus for her. And for me. I… I can’t not tell them.

Firefly briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Forgive me, Aura.

“Please. I’m telling you of my own free will. I promise there is no ill intent by either of us.”

Clypeus narrowed his eyes.

“There’s one other pony who knows I’m a changeling. She’s known for about seven months.”

“One other—” Skitter’s eyes grew wide in shock that Firefly had rarely seen on her face. “No. Firefly, do not tell me what I think you’re going to tell me…”

Firefly nodded. “Refined Aura.”

“Dammit, Firefly! The detective?! Are you insane?!”

“No! I’m not!” Firefly barked back. “I promised and I’ll promise again that there is no ill intent. Roast—” she deflated at how she knew that would sound, “Roast was the one that confirmed it to her. During the investigation, she found out on her own and Roast was desperate not to lose me. So he pleaded with her and she sided with me and Roast.”

“Oh sweet Chrysalis…” Clypeus angrily rolled his eyes and then bared his fangs at her. “And, yet again, you told no one! Tell me, exactly, how do you know you’re not the cause of so many of us being discovered?!”

“I…! Me?!” She put a hoof to her chest before thrusting it to the side. “That was our Quee—”

“I would remind you of who you will be pleading your case to,” Clypeus interrupted.

Firefly set her hoof back down and took a deep, calming breath. It barely helped. “I threatened her, okay? I’m not proud of doing that to someone I call friend, but I bluffed and told her that she’d be watched and taken away if she told anyone. However—and this is not a threat—Aura is smart. She knows changelings replace ponies. She’ll have some kind of countermeasure in place in case she gets captured or replaced. Trust me when I say, you don’t have the skills to impersonate her. She is far, far too unique and special and wonderful for anyling to try.”

Clypeus held his glare for several long seconds. “So, in other words, you have no idea what that detective may have done. If you had said something, maybe the hive could have handled this properly. Perhaps it wouldn’t have even come to this. Assuming your word means a Chrysalis damn thing, you still made a decision on the hive’s behalf and offered no chance to mitigate any risk.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Regardless, we will investigate and provide the results to the queen. She will decide how to handle this disaster.”

The breath Firefly hadn’t even realized she’d been holding finally let itself out. She wished there was more she could say. She wished she could tell Aura herself, to warn her. Aura deserved nothing but the best. But that would have to do. Arguing further would only dig both her and Aura deeper.

“If there’s nothing else you’d like to incriminate yourself with…”

Firefly glared at him, but remembered that one last detail. “I’m not sure what can be done, but Roast and I had agreed to spend some time at Aura’s house. Around one or two O’clock next Sunday, I believe.”

“We will handle it. Anything else?”

Firefly glanced to the floor and thought. After a long moment, she looked back up to Skitter and Clypeus. “Just… please take care of the cafe. Put a sign up or something and make sure none of the ovens are on. I don’t want anything to happen to the place.”

Clypeus donned his Crystal Flare disguise and the same was heard behind her. “Then please, transform into an earth pony mare of yellow coat, teal mane, and green eyes with a cutie mark of a cut gem. Your name will be Rhinestone. Then turn around and follow Capitate outside. Do not try to escape and do not attempt to signal anyone. We have more than enough changelings to prevent such foolishness, but I would rather not make a scene.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” She took on his requested disguise and turned around. With one final kernel of spiciness, she looked to Capitate and said, “Let’s go, cupcake.”

The glare she received was almost enough to make her grin. Almost.





“All aboard!” The train conductor called from outside and a few minutes later, the train pulled forward.

Firefly wanted to glare at the changeling disguised as a unicorn reading his paper in front of her, or yell at the mare with a bored expression next to her. Or any of the ponies here. For all she knew, they bought the entire car out, just to watch her. But she was certain she’d only anger them or even blow their disguises altogether.

She instead turned to the window. The crowds and tall buildings were slowly replaced by quaint houses. Then fields and grasslands, the long stalks of grass shifted in the wind, as if waving goodbye. Her anger slowly melted away as the realization of what had truly happened washed over her. She’d never see her home again. Never make another cup of coffee, never see the smiling faces of her customers. And she might never see Roast again. The queen might not even hear her out. He could be trapped in a cocoon for the rest of his days while she was forced to—

She stumbled out of her seat, tears welling up in her eyes, and rushed down the aisle to the restroom at the end of the car. Her turbulent insides felt a minuscule drop of relief at the vacant sign. Throwing the door open, she stepped in and quickly shut and locked it.

Then the first sob hit.

The second and third wracked her body and she fell to her knees. “I… haugh… Roast. How did… what can I…” She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what she could do. She felt trapped, like an animal in a cage. There was no way to fight back. Running would only doom them. 

She had to stay quiet.

She couldn’t keep quiet.

“There’s nothing!” Firefly whispered out through her tears and rolled to her side. She held her hindlegs close and buried her face in her mess of limbs. “I can’t! I can’t do anything!”

Three sharp knocks caught her next sob.

“Just… Just a minute!” she called back from the floor as normal as she could. She stood up, anger and frustration and agony and despair running through her. They wanted to take everything from her. They wouldn’t even give her the space to cry.

Firefly turned to the sink and blearily looked herself over in the mirror. She was a wreck. Dirt clung to her mane, her face matted with tears, snot dripping from her nose. She snorted out, sending mucus flying onto the mirror.

Grabbing some tissues, she cleaned herself up as best as she could. She ran her hooves through her mane and knocked free the dust and dirt before transforming the unruly mess into something more orderly. Finally acceptable, she inspected herself one last time and took a deep breath.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And exhale.

Good girl, Firefly. You can handle this. One more time.

One. Two—

Four knocks, more urgent this time, stole her held breath. With one last shake to clear her head, she flushed the empty toilet and faced the door. She unlocked and opened it and, sure enough, outside was one of her charges with a none-too-happy look on her face.

“Sorry, all yours.” Firefly gave a half smile and squeezed out past the mare as they exchanged places. The door slammed shut behind her and Firefly gave as much of a glare at the door as she dared. She huffed and walked back to her seat.

Her other charge gave her a single glance over his newspaper as she sat down before turning back to his paper. She sighed and set her chin on the windowsill. Before she even had time to fog up the glass, the stallion cleared his throat and she sat up to look at him.

He gave her a tiny eyebrow raise, then smiled, dropped the smile, and smiled again.

Firefly put on a little smile for him, but inside she fumed and did nothing to hide her emotion from any other emotivores.

He merely went back to his reading.

Piece of manure. She kept her fake smile and looked out the window. Can’t even let me be for one second.

Soon enough, the other mare returned and the three of them settled into an uncomfortable silence.

Despite it all, she could only take a morbid solace in the knowledge that Roast was soundly asleep while they transported his cocoon.





Over time, the scenery outside slowly shifted from green fields to cliffs and crags as they passed by Canterlot, then slowly to desert as they neared Appleoosa. In the same way, Firefly’s smile had been steeled several times at the behest of her captors, but slipped to disinterest once most ponies had departed at Canterlot and Ponyville.

Much like the dry tumbleweeds and cacti passing by her window, her unhappiness had settled itself on her face. The stallion across from her hadn’t said anything, nor had the mare beside her. They had, however, infuriatingly continued to give her little time to herself. They’d follow her to the food and drink station and only give her a few minutes to relieve herself.

After two days on a train with them, Firefly felt pretty justified in being quite upset.

Thankfully, those two days were nearing their end as the tiny farming town of Appleoosa came into view. The train gave a little jerk forward as it began its deceleration. Firefly straightened up and stretched, very ready to at least be walking instead of sitting silent next to two unfamiliar changelings.

A few minutes later, the train finally came to a halt. Firefly sat, waiting for instructions from whoever would be escorting her next.

The stallion stood, pulled his saddlebags from under his bench, and looked at her. “Come, Rhinestone,” he said simply and walked out of the aisle.

Firefly raised an eyebrow as she stood, very aware of the two other passengers that had remained after Ponyville. She could only surmise that she was correct in there being more than the two changelings that had initially escorted her onto the train. Sure enough, the two others in the car took their place behind her as she followed the stallion and mare from her row out the train.

The dry, desert sun hit as she stepped from the cooled passenger train. She’d been through Appleoosa once before, but the ‘lings around her gave her no time to appreciate the quaint town. As expected, there was no one to greet them and they wordlessly made their way down the train platform and onto the main road.

Firefly wanted to ask where they were headed, if they planned on taking a detour for food and rest, or if they were to power through the desert and on to the hive. A grimace formed on her face and she was fairly certain of the answer she’d receive. Instead, she remained silent and followed along as her questions were answered for her.

Northbound out of town they headed, without making a single stop. She merely hoped they had plans for food and drink between Appleoosa and the Hive. After what must have been over an hour of silent trekking, her escorts ensured nopony was watching and let her off the main road. A ways into the rocky, bush-laden terrain, they stopped at a large, well-hidden tarp. The lead stallion wasted no time in removing it and Firefly mentally sighed at the sight of an open-topped cart with barrels and sacks containing what she hoped was water and food.

“Plerum, you’re pulling first,” the leader spoke.

“You got it, Coxa,” the one apparently named Plerum replied and began getting herself hitched.

“As for you, Miss Rhinestone,” the leader she now knew as Coxa began, contempt dripping from his voice. He opened his saddlebags, producing a collar and leash, “you will need to transform into a canine, perhaps half your height.”

Firefly stared at Coxa, then at the collar, then back to Coxa. “Excuse me?” she asked with no small amount of indignation.

Coxa rolled his eyes. “A dog. Change into a dog. One that can fit this collar.”

“I heard you the first time,” Firefly spat, “and no. I will not be masquerading as a common house pet. I can walk on these damn legs.”

Coxa scowled and stepped up into her face. “You no longer have the right to choose. You gave that up the second you turned your back on the hive.”

Firefly huffed in his face, leaning in until her nose nearly touched his. “I have never once turned my back. And I will not—!”

The hoof came faster than she could react and Firefly cried out in pain as she landed on her side. Shock filled her as she held a hoof to her stinging cheek and stared ahead at nothing. She hadn’t been hit in… she couldn’t remember the last time. Out-of-place sorrow and guilt filled her as she remembered kicking Roast in the stomach when she fled all those months ago.

“You can either do as I say,” she heard Coxa’s voice say above her, “or you can become a problem.”

She broke from her stupor with a sudden flash of fear as she saw the other two unhitched ‘lings step up. Firefly expected the worst, but was relieved when they stopped short and gave concerned glances between Coxa and Firefly.

“Hey, Coxa,” the mare that had flanked her on the train whispered, “I’m pretty sure Clypeus didn’t give us permission to hit her.”

“Shut up! Do you want to side with the traitor?!”

“No, but she—”

“Clypeus isn’t here! I am,” Coxa snarled back before turning to Firefly. “Now, are you going to be a problem?”

Firefly grit her teeth and put her hoof back down, a fire lighting back inside of her. She stood up and glared at him, remembering how much power she truly had. Most of her love may have been stored away in the crystals the day before, but Roast’s love was far from weak and the hive had no choice but to ration for months on end. Except…

“No,” she huffed and changed into a dog, the furious glare never leaving her face. There was little doubt in her mind that she could outperform all four of them if it came to a fight. But it would only give them more arrows for the queen to fire back at her.

Fighting wasn’t worth the chance of getting Roast back.

Coxa narrowed his eyes down at her. “Good.” The collar levitated over and wrapped itself around her neck.

A surprised squeak escaped her as she found herself lifted by his magic and put into the cart. She choked as the leash tugged without warning towards the front of the cart. Several coughs later, she rubbed at her throat and turned to see the lead tied to a cargo mount point.

“Now stay,” Coxa said, peering over the edge of the cart. “If you need anything, bark.” He turned from view and a moment later, the tarp levitated up and covered the front half of the cart. “And try not to need anything.”

Firefly felt the frustration boil up tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath and settled down for the ride. She wouldn’t give them the pleasure of hearing her cry again.





A hard bump jostled her awake and Firefly blearily looked around in the dark. She stood up and was immediately reminded of the indignity around her throat. The enmity for where she was quickly burned through her sleep-addled mind. She could feel the need for the facilities, but she refused to speak up, or bark up as it were, until she couldn’t hold it anymore. Every time, Coxa wouldn’t even give her the courtesy of relieving herself on her own. Rather he had one of the four take her by the leash and lead her behind some bushes or a rock.

At least the other three had the decency to turn their backs.

It was nighttime as she peeked over the edge of the cart and she saw they’d left the desert road and were traveling on sand. The sight of two disguised unicorns clearing the tracks behind them made it clear they were nearly there.

A few minutes later, a raven landed on their wagon with a loud caw and a flurry of pheromones.

“Good morning,” Firefly heard Coxa say, “we’re here with a special delivery.” Magic tinted her vision and a sudden jerk lifted her out of the wagon, leash and all. She was set down on the ground between the wagon puller and Coxa, her lead held by his magic. “We’d like an escort for her, if you wouldn’t mind.”

The raven snapped its head to the freshly-vacated wagon and then back, tilting its head several times. It came down and landed next to her, only a few centimeters shorter. She had no doubt the guard could smell her, both the pheromones and her sweaty, grimy body.

“Why?” It asked.

“She needs to be taken to a prison cell.”

It eyed her once more. “Ah. Is this the one we’ve been expecting?”

He nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Standby.” It flew off into the darkness and cawed loudly two times. A moment later came another three now-distant caws.

Several long and degrading moments later, five ravens flitted down onto the wagon. The middle raven spoke up, “Take the wagon to the depot. You,” it pointed a wing at Coxa, “bring her to west entrance three. We’ll be escorting from above.” Without waiting for a response, all the ravens took to the air.

Sand began crunching under the wagon wheels as it moved onward without Firefly and her captor.

A tug on her leash pulled her in the opposite direction. “Come on.”

Firefly huffed and walked alongside Coxa. “Could you please take the leash off? There’s five guards watching. Even if I tried, I doubt I’d be able to escape.”

“No,” he simply replied.

“Then… could you at least spare me the embarrassment and take it off when we get to the entrance?”

He snorted. “I would. If you didn’t deserve worse.”

“I didn’t—!” Firefly cut herself off and huffed again. She saved her breath and took solace in that at least few changelings would see her and fewer would know who she was. Probably. Navigating the hive was either going to be a challenge or even more degrading if she couldn’t walk down the vertical tunnels herself.

A few moments later, they arrived at west entrance three. She had personally never used it, but like any good changeling that worked outside the hive, she knew the location of all of them. Or, at least, the ones they made collectors memorize.

Two ravens flew in and landed at the first bend several meters in. Firefly and her captor went in and two other ravens followed. After the first turn, the front ravens shifted back into their changeling forms. Firefly’s captor and the rear ravens did the same once past the bend.

One of the changelings in front turned around and looked at Firefly, her eyes roaming and inspecting her canine body. After a moment, the guard spoke in a feminine voice, “Remove the leash and let her shift back.”

Coxa shook his head. “The traitor doesn’t deserve the courtesy.”

“That decision is not yours to make.” The guard took a step closer and narrowed her eyes. “Remove. The leash.”

He glared for a moment longer before looking down and magicking off the leash.

Relief filled Firefly as she shifted back into her normal form. She looked to the guard with no small amount of gratitude and quietly said, “Thank you.”

The guard looked at Firefly for a moment longer, then turned back to the stallion. “Return to your caste lead and file a report of your journey with the infiltrators. We will escort her from here.”

Her captor bared his fangs and gave a low hiss. “Fine,” he said and stomped past them into the hive.

Another wave of relief flooded her and she hoped she’d never meet that ‘ling again. 

“Come,” the guard said as she turned and continued onward, flanked by two in the rear and two in front.

Firefly followed as they led her through corridors and tunnels, deeper into the hive. She did her best to walk with dignity and ignore eye contact with any of the passing changelings. Thanks to her sessions with Skitter, she’d gotten far better at concealing her emotions, and was grateful changeling chitin couldn’t show the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. She hoped it looked like she’d been provided a guard retinue rather than a prison escort. Despite the curiosity of onlookers, she was infinitely more grateful she wasn’t paraded around on a leash.

As they continued further, she distracted herself by looking over at the two guards in front. On the side of the crinet protecting their necks, their rank insignia caught her eye. To her chagrin, her knowledge of guard ranks had faded with her time in Equestria. It didn’t help that she brain dumped it all after training. She looked to who seemed to be the leader on the left. Focusing on the crinet, she saw the rank and immediately remembered that guards with changeling head insignias were officers. The engraved rank showed the outline of a changeling head with a star-topped horn, a pair of changeling wings, and two peytral-like chevrons below.

She furrowed her eyeridges. If her spotty memory served her, the hive only had need of around half of the nine officer ranks Equestria’s structure had. Still, it seemed like a high ranked insignia. Firefly silently huffed at her forgetfulness.

Hoping to glean a bit more, she glanced at the other guard and saw only the changeling head, a pair of wings, and a single chevron. A chill ran down her back, her eyes shooting back to the leader. Whoever it was, they were near the top, at least two ranks above the other. She wasn’t sure whether to be offended or worried that they’d had such an important changeling waiting for her arrival.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the group finally arrived at the prison. An out-of-place-looking iron bar door was set into the rock face with a changeling in guard armor posted outside. Their crinet sported a changeling head with a simple pair of changeling wings. The guard’s pheromones made their way to Firefly’s nose.

His head turned as he noticed them and his body followed suit immediately after. “Ma’am!” He gave the lead guard a salute.

She returned his salute. “Open the door.”

Without a word, he nosed under his armor, grabbed a key, and unlocked the door. A pull and the door groaned open. He stepped inside and Firefly’s entourage followed. “A.M. cell. Is that correct, ma’am?”

“Correct.”

He nodded back and led the group to the third cell. Firefly wasn’t sure if that meant the other two didn’t work or if he chose it arbitrarily. She watched as he unlocked, opened the door, and backed up.

“Please enter the cell,” the lead guard instructed.

Firefly took a deep breath and nodded, entering the second cell of her life. Surprisingly, it had one more amenity than the pony jail did. There was the bed, a waste hole, a water basin, and a little end table bolted to the floor near the front. It would have been a perfectly horrible place to put her engraved amethyst and picture frame on.

She fought the tears that welled up in her eyes.

Behind her, the door groaned and clanged as it closed and locked shut.

“Firefly,” the lead guard called and drew Firefly’s attention as she tried to blink the wetness away. “These cells are lined with anti-magic runes. You will not be able to cast, change forms, or consume love within these walls. The queen will be notified of your arrival and will see you when she deems fit. Until then, you will be brought to a separate area for meals. Questions?”

Firefly simply shook her head. The only question she had, the only pony on her mind, she didn’t dare ask about.

The lead guard turned towards the two that had been at Firefly’s rear. “You both will serve as first shift.”

Both guards saluted. “Yes ma’am!”

She returned the salute and left with her other subordinate and the outer cell guard.

Firefly turned and climbed up onto the bed, facing away from the guards outside. She laid down and rested her chin on her hooves. As she closed her eyes, an overwhelming sense of deja-vu filled her.

But this time, she didn’t care who saw her tears.
> Act II ~ Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next pony strode up to the counter and Fine Roast greeted them with a smile. “Hello and welcome to the Sweet Roast Cafe! What can I get you?”

She smiled back. “Hi! Could I get a small—”

Roast nodded and looked down to his notepad, writing her order with the pen in his mouth. “Absolutely! Coming right up.” He turned to Sweet Leaf at the espresso station against the back wall and walked the half-a-dozen meters over to her.

Firefly turned and smiled, leaning over to nuzzle him. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey yourself.” He returned the nuzzle against her soft fur. “Think you could fill this?” Roast lifted up the pad with an order he couldn’t quite make out anymore.

“Sure!” She took the pad and turned to pick up a coffee cup next to the espresso machine.

Roast smiled warmly at his wife before turning back to the cash register. He hit a few buttons and the register gave a loud ding. “That’ll be twenty bits!”

The mare wordlessly hooved over some bits and Roast secured them away. He stepped out from the counter, picked up a cleaning bucket, and headed to one of their tables. A rag plopped onto the surface and he began scrubbing away at the numerous coffee stains and crumbs left from the day’s last patron. A long moment later, he sighed and set the rag back into the bucket.

He turned and walked back through the kitchen and up the stairs, finding his wife in their bedroom. Donning his saddlebags, he and Firefly went back downstairs and out the front door.

Firefly took a deep breath of the cool, autumn air and sighed long and slow. “I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve been able to get out of that cafe.”

“It has,” Roast replied, leading the way down the empty, evening street. “Even longer since we went to the park.”

She giggled and returned his smile from a meter or two across the trail. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweet cheeks.”

They continued down the trail for several, long minutes. Roast looked over as the trees ended, revealing a well-tended field of grass, a couple playgrounds, and some buckball courts. Foals merrily played away and he sighed wistfully.

Roast came up to the buckball court and began cheering on the sidelines. One of the fillies turned and flashed a big smile before smacking the ball straight out of the air into the opposite team’s bucket. He stomped his hooves in applause and saw his wife across the court praising their team just as much as he was. The applause died down and he turned back down the dirt path.

“What a game!” Firefly said from her side of the trail.

“Yeah. Our little girl sure can score with the best of them.”

“She gets it from you, you know.” She bumped her flank against his.

“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “My skills at air hockey are hardly genetic.”

“Whatever you say.” Firefly bumped his shoulder. They turned down another trail and she began humming, the dirt path crunching beneath their hooves, trees growing more dense on either side. Her fur rubbed his as she leaned into him.

Times like these reminded him how wonderful a life he led. A successful cafe, good friends, a peaceful town. And a beautiful wife. He nosed into her mane, but the familiar scent of her was absent. Though, he wasn’t concerned. Smells were funny like that.

“You know,” she spoke up again, “we should go on a vacation.”

Roast hummed. “I suppose we could take another. There’s no rule against one every month. In fact, we should take one every month!”

“I like the sound of that. I’d love to visit Canterlot. I hear it’s beautiful this time of year.” Firefly nuzzled him one last time.

He smiled at her again, finding her back at her place a couple meters across from him. “Let’s do it, then! I’ll get us tickets tomorrow. What are you thinking of seeing up there?”

Firefly hummed. “I’d love to go to the palace. I hear the tours are amazing. The huge hallways, the throne room, and the beautiful gardens all sound so wonderful.”

“But…” Roast paused for a moment, “aren’t you worried about being so close to the princesses? And what about your, err, friends?”

“Oh, pshaw!” She waved a hoof as they came to a tiny, dead-end clearing in the forest before she hopped up onto a bench in the middle. “They’re fine. The hive doesn’t have to know and it’s not like we have to tell the princesses I’m a changeling.”

He took his end of the bench, glancing around in worry. “You don’t think they might be able to tell? And should we be talking about that here?”

“It’s fine. We’re out in the middle of nowhere!”

Her words did little to ease his anxiety and his eyes darted out along the thick treeline. “I still think we should be careful. Getting ponynapped wasn’t exactly nice last time.”

“Getting ponynapped?”

“Yeah, remember when you went—” he stopped short and gasped as he looked at her now-changeling form on the bench. “Sweet! Change back! Now!”

“Why? It’s only you and me out here.”

“It doesn’t matter! I can’t lose you!”

“But, I don’t understand.” Her head cocked in confusion. “You already did.”

His eyes grew wide as one second she was looking at him in confusion, and the next she was gone. “Firefly!” He cried out and jumped off the bench. His hooves touched nothing and his heart seized. He looked down to see the ground in front of the bench rushing closer, a hundred meters down.





Fine Roast gasped and nearly gagged at the viscous air being dragged into his lungs. His eyes opened and he found his vision filled with green, a low light illuminating from somewhere around him. Confused, he reached out a hoof and pressed, finding something firm, but pliable. He squinted and pressed harder before reeling back as his memories flashed through his mind.

Firefly’s meeting. Her early arrival and odd behavior. The changelings that took her face. The same changelings that paralyzed and put him to sleep.

His eyes grew wide and he pressed his hooves harder against what he now knew was a cocoon, but his force against strong material only pushed him away. He raised up and pressed all four hooves on opposite sides, barely managing to deform the elongated, egg-like shape.

Roast settled and floated back to the middle, eyes shifting along the world outside of his prison for anything that could help. A rough cave-like wall held a few strange-looking lanterns embedded in its surface. A little ways over, there seemed to be a carved passageway out of the room. His gaze continued further left and the liquid caught in his throat as he saw where he was.

On both sides and behind him were dozens of other cocoons. In his peripheral, they nearly blended in with the green of his own, but it became painfully obvious once they came into focus. He knew from Firefly that changelings captured and kept ponies, but seeing where they were stored in person was a whole other experience.

All of the others seemed to be ponies. Young adults, middle age, elderly, they were all floating in the same green substance, eyes closed and expressionless, all somehow breathing. Occasionally one would twitch, but they were all otherwise motionless. He was momentarily relieved that there were no foals he could see, though that only meant it was at least uncommon for them to take younger ponies. He idly and morbidly wondered if one of the ponies near him was Firefly’s ex-source before Roast or the ex’s real wife.

Roast shook his head. Now wasn’t the time for idle thought. He needed to figure out how to escape and get back to his wife. Peering at the others again, their pods were haphazardly aligned in several rows and columns, but none appeared to be awake or of any use.

Shifting his attention above, he saw only the swirling end of his cocoon, several splotches of liquid on the cave’s ceiling, and a carved stone support a couple cocoons over.

Below, he saw glowing patches of what he assumed was some kind of moss. A sparse number of holes also dotted the floor, just big enough for a stallion his size to fit through. In the next row over, Roast’s attention was drawn a little ways down. He leaned close and squinted, a little black mass sat in a gap where it seemed the next cocoon should have been. He couldn’t make out any details in the low light and there didn’t seem to be anything else of note around it.

A softly glowing light appeared near the ceiling and caught Roast’s eye. It shone through the translucent forest of green goo and bobbed slightly as it moved closer, occasionally disappearing and reappearing from behind others in his row. The light slowly came more into focus and when it neared only a couple ponies away, Roast noticed it wasn’t one light, but two.

He gasped at the striking familiarity of his wife’s own natural pair of eyes, glowing in the dark. Which meant above his head was the floor and the eyes no doubt belonged to another changeling. A changeling he bet wasn’t in the mood for a chat.

Right before the eyes came around his neighbor, Roast got a glimpse of the changeling’s head and solid-colored eyes and he closed his own. Upside down, he hung there and played possum as best he could. Betraying his will, his ears gave a tiny twitch at the sound of a soft tap. His heart beat away inside his chest and he tried to remain calm and emotionless.

He slowed his breaths, imitating Firefly’s breathing exercise she’d shared some months ago. Deep breath in. Hold. Slowly release back out. Again and again he drew then exhaled.

Despite it all, a series of what he presumed were knocks against his prison reached his ears, and his heart rate refused to listen to his request for calm. Silence reigned for several long, painful seconds before another three soft taps greeted him. He knew the chances this changeling was there to help was infinitesimal. He knew it was only there to ensure he stayed asleep. He knew, yet he still opened his eyes.

The changeling on the floor above him stared back for a long couple seconds before its eyes widened and it took off past him.

Roast turned and watched it disappear down the passageway he spotted earlier. His eyes darted around, but found no other changelings. Help was no doubt on the way and not the kind that benefited him. Returning his focus to the seemingly-thin walls, he pressed hard and tried to twist, bunch, and futilely bite, all to no avail. Frustration mounting, he punched the cocoon, the fluid absorbing the momentum and any satisfaction.

With a huff, he inspected every bit of the membrane he could see. It showed no signs of strain or stretching. Nearest the floor he felt no imperfections in the swirling tip. He craned his neck to the ceiling past his hooves and saw the black, round base where his cocoon’s membranous walls ended. A bit awkwardly, he maneuvered his hooves against the smooth walls and rotated himself upwards.

Squinting and reaching out a hoof, he felt along the ceiling of his tiny chamber. He could barely make anything out, but its texture was different from the membranous wall. There seemed to be several bumps and a few small openings. One hole, he noticed, had a slight flow of liquid coming from it, while another with a flow going into it. A third had no flow and was a little wider than the others.

He pressed a hoof into the larger, but grumbled as he only managed to push himself away. He set his hooves against the slippery sides and strained upwards to get a closer look.

As his snout nearly came in contact with it, he reeled back in surprise as a blue glow surrounded his vision. He was tugged down, flipped back around, and made to look at the now trio of changelings on the not-ceiling.

The middle one in front held a very unamused, half-lidded stare at him.

Placing a hoof against the wall, Roast tried to speak. No sound came from his liquid-covered vocal chords, so he instead tried to mouth the word “please” to them. Once, twice, three times, before the middle changeling turned and addressed the changeling on Roast’s right. Roast’s ears twitched at the barest sound of muffled speech. As the changeling spoke and made several gestures to Roast, its conversation partner merely nodded, sometimes tilting its head in response.

The changeling on the left simply sat and watched Roast. He looked back at it and slowly mouthed, “Please, help. Firefly. I know Firefly. Please.” Not even a questioning look was given in return and Roast deflated as his suspicions were confirmed. They either didn’t understand or, more likely, didn’t care.

He was only cattle, after all.

After many more seconds, the middle changeling finished and all three sets of eyes turned back to him. The middle one spoke and the right nodded, its horn beginning to glow. After not but a second, Roast felt the now-familiar sensation of his consciousness slipping against his will. He could barely mouth “please” one last time before darkness welcomed him once again.





The machine in front of Roast hissed away as it frothed milk in a pitcher and dripped fresh espresso into a little ceramic cup. He had no idea what the customer wanted, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind. Roast dumped the shot of espresso into the pitcher, but not before wondering why he didn’t drip the espresso directly into the pitcher.

They’d be fast out of dishes if he kept that up.

Resolving to save more bits, he tossed the espresso cup into the sink with a loud crack and took the pitcher to the serving counter. “Order up!” He set the pitcher on the counter, its handle facing the customers.

He squinted and peered across the counter to the other side of the vast cafe where he knew his beautiful wife worked. She wasn’t quite visible and he felt a pang of loneliness in his heart. Roast glanced about for another order to fill, but was elated to not find one. A smile crossed his face as he decided then would be a great time for a break. Without hesitation, he stepped away from his espresso bar and began the journey to the cashier’s counter.

After what Roast was certain was a few hours of travel and many thoughts of his wonderful wife, he finally made it to the other side. He furrowed his brow as he looked over to see Firefly in her bare chitin, happily taking order after order. That concerned him a little. He hadn’t remembered discussing her revealing herself yet.

He stepped around the counter and his mouth gaped at the sight. While the countertop was pristinely kept, behind it lay an absolute mess. After Firefly finished taking an order, she dumped the bits on top of an ever-growing pile next to her. She tore the order off the notepad and tossed it behind her to flutter its way down to meet hundreds more.

“Firefly?” Roast softly called.

His wife turned, looking more than a little harrowed. On meeting his gaze, a big smile came across her face, showing off every glistening centimeter of her long, dripping fangs. “Roast! It’s so great you’re here! I need your help!”

Roast nearly leapt forward. “Of course! What’s wrong?”

“It’s all these customers!” She waved a hoof at the ever growing line. “I decided to start serving as myself and apparently word got out that there’s a changeling coffee shop in town. Now it seems everyone wants to try our coffee!”

“Oh, sweetie…” He set his coffee down and stepped forward, embracing her. “You know what? Let’s take a break. Celestia knows you need it.”

Firefly sniffled. “Yeah. Okay. I guess we could go visit Aura.”

Roast broke the hug and turned around. “That sounds like a perfect idea. Come on.”

“Don’t you want your coffee?” She pressed the cup to his lips.

His eyes crossed at it for a long while before taking a far bigger draw than he intended. It tasted both sweet and acrid at the same time and he spat it out sideways with a vigorous head shake. “You know,” he gently pushed the cup away, “I forgot I don’t drink coffee.” Without another word, he led her out from behind the counter, weaving through the line of customers and narrowly avoiding knocking a cocoon over. “There, see?” he spoke up again as they passed through the front door. “What a wonderful day.”

“Yeah, it is.” Firefly looked up to the sky, drawing Roast’s attention up as well. Pegasi and changelings flew all about, some with saddlebags, some with briefcases in their teeth and fangs. “It’s so nice the queen decided to make peace with Equestria.”

“I’ll say.” He nodded, patiently waiting for a cocooned pony to roll by before walking onto the street. “All the changelings can finally be out in the open. I can definitely say I won’t miss being ponynapped.”

She playfully thwapped him with her tail. “You know they apologized for that.”

“I know,” Roast sighed, then turned down a street and saw Aura’s house a little ways down. “I don’t like losing you. Not then, not ever.”

She brushed her fur up against his and nosed his neck. “Roast, it’s okay. You’ve got me now and forever more.”

“But… then why did the queen put us so far apart in the cafe?”

“You know why, Roast. It was a perfectly reasonable decision.”

While he couldn’t remember why the queen had done it, he remembered it was indeed perfectly reasonable.

“Hey you two!”

Roast looked up to see Refined Aura waving from her porch.

“Hey, Aura!” Firefly waved and trotted ahead, wrapping the pegasus in a hug.

“Well come on inside!” Aura trotted through her open door with Firefly.

Roast followed them inside, finding the two ladies already seated at the table, hooves up in the air with a steaming cup resting in the frog of each. At the spot across from them were two cups filled with coffee. Taking his seat, he tried to scoop a cup in each hoof, but couldn’t manage to pick up both at the same time. After a few more tries and much spilt coffee, he gave up and settled for one. He hoped it wouldn’t offend their host.

“So, I hear things are looking up for the cafe!” Aura took a sip from the tea cup in her left hoof, then from the right.

“They sure are!” Firefly mimicked her sips. “So many customers, you wouldn’t believe!”

“I bet I would.” Aura drank from both again. 

Roast merely stared at Aura. This was normal for Firefly, but something was off about their friend. “Aura, sorry if this is rude, but it seems like there’s something different about you.”

The others merely looked at him. They both spoke at the same time. “The only rude thing is you not drinking after you talk.”

He looked down at his coffee and had little desire for the dark, swirling liquid. A subtle glance up confirmed they were still intently watching. Roast brought the cup up to his mouth, mimicking drinking, but drawing in nothing. He hoped they wouldn’t notice.

“The other one, too.”

Lacking much dexterity at all, he set the cup down, picked up the other, and repeated the false sip.

“Yeah! I got my hooves done!” Aura smiled and showed off the orange hoof polish that matched her eyes. “What do you think?” She sipped twice.

“It looks… nice?” They really did look great, but there was still something else he couldn’t place. He knew they were staring, waiting for him to drink, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the shiny orange polish. Then it hit him.

“Your wings.” His eyes darted back to Aura’s, her angry glare deepening every second. “You never use your hooves. Why are you using your hooves?”

“You didn’t drink,” the two voices echoed.

Roast shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

“Drink your coffee.” The two stood up on their hind legs, cups still held aloft. “Drink your coffee!” They came around each side and Roast tried to back up, but the chair wouldn’t budge. They both dropped a cup and grabbed his jaw, shoving their cups at his mouth. “Drink!”





Roast’s eyes shot open, green tinting his vision once more. Half a second later, he realized his jaw was clenched and his lips pursed shut. A shimmer caught his eye. At his snout, there appeared to be a shimmering ball of… something. Another shimmer further away and above drew his attention outside. There in front of him was an upside-down changeling, frozen with its eyes wide open and mouth agape. He tilted his head at it.

The two stared for several seconds before the telekinesis winked out. The changeling spun around and took off before he could even greet it.

After its tail disappeared down the exit, he carefully reached up to grab the dark-colored ball it left behind. He scrunched his eyebrows as he examined it. He pressed on the slimy thing and the little ball of goop squished and slipped, shooting out of his hooves. It reformed back to a sphere and wobbled in the sea of green before it softly bounced off his chest. He drew it close again, but couldn’t make out any details; it all seemed one uniform color and substance.

He gave it a little lick and scrunched his nose at the thing. It was sweet, yet bitter, reminding him of burnt-yet-watery coffee covered up with the cheapest sweetcream.

The terrible flavor granted his sleepy mind more clarity and he shook his head. He pushed the thing away and took a deep breath of the same breathable, green liquid as before. He blinked hard, trying to squeeze the last bit of sleep from his mind. There was little time to spare before the changeling and many more of its friends returned.

A quick glance around confirmed nothing appeared different from before, other than the ball of goop. And, he remembered as he looked past his hooves at the ceiling, there was still the thing he presumed this cocoon was attached to.

Placing his hooves against the walls, he flipped himself around and pushed up to the base. After half-a-minute of straining and slipping, he finally managed to shove his snout against the hole that neither expelled nor drew liquid. He nosed around, but there was little his muzzle could tell him. He grimaced at a thought and wished for any other method of exploration, but his options were limited. He tentatively extended his long pony tongue and felt around, but ran short of reach right at the end of the hole. A gag nearly forced its way out at the familiar sweet-acrid flavor.

He raised an eyebrow at it, wondering if that nasty-tasting ball came through there. With a wriggle of his nose, he managed to push his snout in and extend his tongue a little further, easily reaching the end this time. He pressed his tongue further and was joyously greeted by the touch of cool air.

Pulling back for another liquid filled breath, he shoved his snout back to it. His upper lip easily fit in and he bit down on the hole’s edge. With care, he gave an experimental tug and a tiny cinder of hope filled him when he felt his teeth maintain their grip.

His hooves shook with effort as they held him there, tightly against the top. He ground his teeth against it and gave a sharp yank. He slipped down, his legs buckling from the force. But there, right above him, was a flap of whatever kept this thing attached to the ceiling.

Hope now a burning flame, he scrambled back up and dug more of his nose into the torn hole. Another tug and more ripped off. The third placed his nose right against the orifice-like thing at the end of the widened opening. One more rip and his eyes grew wide as a small pocket of air gurgled into the cocoon.

As he began nosing up a fifth time, a tingly tap on his shoulder gave him a start.

He spun around and froze at the sight of  changelings on the floor before him, three of them armored. Though it was the one in front who drained the blood from his face. She simply looked at him with a single raised brow. He was certain this was a she, if for no other reason than her being twice the height of any other changeling he’d seen.

Her green, slitted eyes both drew him in and struck fear into his heart. Small fangs protruded from either side of her closed mouth, fangs that could easily sink in and rend his flesh. And her long, jagged horn betrayed both her status and her great magical prowess.

“Queen Chrysalis,” he mouthed with no small trepidation.

Though his words were silent, her eyes narrowed on him and remained for a long while. Even after he grew uncomfortable and broke away from her gaze, they lingered.

After what felt like an eternity, she drew his attention again as she came closer and crouched, peering up inside. She examined the mess he made, then rose back up with an unamused stare.

His cheeks grew warm and he felt like a foal caught with his hoof in the cookie jar. She turned away and spoke, but her words were garbled and diffused by the liquid he floated in.

Once she’d finished, two changelings turned and ran out of sight. The last remaining, unarmored changeling spoke, but was quickly cut off. He slowly nodded, but said nothing more.

Another moment passed by in silence before movement in Roast’s peripheral caught his eye. A large, wooden tub was being wheeled over by a changeling. Beside it, another changeling had what looked to be a flat and empty cocoon across their back.

A spike of fear stabbed into his chest as the tub was wheeled underneath him. The changeling pushing it lit their horn and a shimmer appeared below him. Roast felt his world fall out from under him and sloshed unceremoniously down into the basin waiting for him. Instinct told him to surface and, for the first time in Celestia knew how many days, he felt something other than warm fluid against his fur.

He drew cool air into his waterlogged lungs and choked, coughing and spitting out the now-foreign liquid. After many coughs and drips of spittle, his lungs settled and heard a barely audible voice from above. He glanced up to see Chrysalis looking back down at him just as the tub began to move away.

“Wa—” Roast choked and coughed up little drippings, hanging his forelegs against the rim. “Wait, please!” he barely managed to croak out before shaking the liquid out of his ears. “Queen Chrysalis, please! I love her!”

A moment passed by, Chrysalis’s eyes staring into Roast’s and Roast silently pleading back. Hopelessness and helplessness began to fill his mind and heart.

“Stop.”

His breath was nearly stolen and he jerked forward as the tub swiftly halted.

“I have heard rumors of such things.” Chrysalis stepped forward, peering down at him again. “You may have just destroyed some of my quite valuable property, but please. Do enlighten me.”

Fine Roast struggled to keep another cough down and remain dignified in front of royalty. “I love her. Firefly, the changeling. I’ve loved her for years. I didn’t know what she was when I saw that black chitin all that time ago, but I knew she was genuine. It didn’t matter—” another wet cough burst from him before he could cover his mouth. His ears flattened at the green spatters against her hooves.

“S-sorry.” He hunched sheepishly and glanced back up, but Chrysalis’s eyes remained solely on his, an eyeridge barely raised. He took it as a sign to continue. “She’d done nothing to deserve any ire and it didn’t matter to me that she was different. It still doesn’t, now that I know what she is. She’s my world and I’m terrified I’ll never see her again.”

Chrysalis’s expression remained unchanging and Roast began to fear she was merely humoring him. Even if she was, he still had to try.

“I don’t know what I can do to assure you I’m honest. I know it’s the most contrived thing on this planet, but I won’t tell anyone about anything, not even this.” He waved a hoof to all the other, entombed ponies. “I don’t know if that makes me a terrible pony, but all I want is to be with her. I’ll help the hive, I’ll work for you and give as much love as I can through her. I won’t even leave if you don’t want me to. But, please, don’t take her from me.”

The air fell silent with his final word. As his heart hammered away in his chest, his gaze remained locked with Chrysalis’s. He refused to be the first to break away again, even as shivers ran through him from the cold air on his wet body. After an eternity passed, the queen simply huffed.

“As tempting as that is, I’m afraid your little pony legs and wingless back will be of little help here. Even so, why have you scurrying around our hooves, taking time away from one of my skilled and able-bodied changelings? Not when you could just as easily help us from within one of those?” She waved a hoof in the same motion he had. “She could find another, while you stay here and grant us your love. We get two pony’s worth of love, and you get to spend every minute of the rest of your life with her. You wouldn’t even notice the difference.”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He shook his head and whispered, “It wouldn’t be her.”

It was unconvincing and he knew it provided no counter-argument. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything that could persuade her. Flashes from Firefly’s interrogation filled his mind and he wondered if this was how she had felt. They’d almost not gotten out, if he hadn’t—

His eyes shot open. It had been a gamble, but he’d spilled information to Aura and it had saved them. While it was no less of a gamble, this was the only card he had left. Except, he had no idea if it was an ace or a two.

Please.

“You could put me in one of those.” With some effort, he pushed himself back up and locked eyes with Chrysalis again. “You could send her back out, destroy her, make her hate you, and maybe get twice the love. Or you could let me be with her and get the same amount, if not more. I’ll never leave her and you’ll never have to worry about her having to find a new source.”

She raised an eyeridge. “You hold your love in such high regard. What makes you think you’re not overvaluing yourself?”

Nervousness curled up in Roast’s stomach and he desperately hoped he could convince her he was a pony worth having. “I’m certain you know about Firefly’s crystals. What I’m willing to bet you don’t know is the cause. She was terrified of telling you. She feared you’d do exactly what you were about to do.” He paused and took a breath, willing his hind legs to stop shaking. “The reason her love is so potent… is because of me. Because I love her, not one of her facades. If you stick me back in one of those, you’ll get nothing better than you would from any other pony. Maybe not even that. But, if you let her be with the pony she wants, the pony Firefly married, I guarantee, you’ll get everything you want and nothing you don’t.”

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes again and the straight line of her lips creased down into a deep frown. A long moment later, she spoke again, “Before Sweet Leaf, were you with anypony else?”

The question caught him off guard and he looked back and forth between both of her glaring eyes. He shook his head. “No. Firefly is the only one I’ve ever loved.”

Her frown turned into a bitter grin. “Then I can assume you don’t know the love of a foal, nor the love for a foal.”

A white hot anger sparked and flared in his chest. “So then you’re just like every other over-protective mother, thinking you know everything and need to control every one of your children. Firefly has left your nest, she doesn’t need—”

“Be silent!” Chrysalis’s scream filled the room and stomped a forehoof, Roast reeling back from her. Her exclamation was loud enough that several nearby ponies shifted in their sleep. The three unarmored changelings rushed over to the ponies and lit their horns. “You speak of things you know nothing about. How old do you think I am? How old do you think the hive is? You presume I am attempting to shelter her, keep her from happiness, ‘destroy’ her, as you so naively spouted. You presume you are trying to protect her.” She leaned her neck down until her face was even with his. Her gaze softened and she looked him deep in his eyes. She dropped her voice to a whisper, “You wished to father foals one day, did you not?”

The unbidden shivers in his legs returned and his mind flashed back to watching his dream filly win her game. He didn’t know how she could know, but she knew and he felt like a misbehaving foal in her presence. A nod was all he could give.

“What would you do if you learned your foal was about to drink a deadly poison?” She paused for a brief moment to look back and forth between his eyes. “You would stop them, wouldn’t you?”

Another nod.

“Little pony…” She raised her neck back up and reached out to caress his cheek. “The warm, wonderful tasting poison that offers protection and care, safety and security. That unwitting poison is you. The one who would destroy her is not me, but none other than yourself.”

Tears bit at his eyes once again as she set her hoof down, raising back up. It… it didn’t make sense. “H-how? How is what we have wrong?”

“You made her love you,” she said softly, looking down with pity. “You made her disregard her training and lie to keep you. Did you not think there was a reason for changelings to guard their hearts? For it to be drilled over and over before they even set hoof in Equestria?”

Roast sat back into the cooling liquid and shook his head. Love couldn’t harm, right? It wasn’t possible. Images of Firefly filled his head, of her sick in bed and him feeding her spoonful after spoonful of medicine, only to find her growing worse. He wasn’t a doctor, just as much as he wasn’t a changeling. They fed on love. Who was he to say there wasn’t more than one kind, a more harmful kind?

Except… he furrowed his brows. If that was the case, something Firefly had said didn’t make sense. His expression went from searching her eyes to narrowing on them. That couldn’t be right. This was a trick.

“No.” He stood up straight and the fire inside him burned again. “Firefly told me months ago exactly how important that training was. A day, at most, and it was nothing more than a joke. Noling took it seriously. She said the other collectors barely even remembered it. Maybe next time you should think before you try and bluff.”

Chrysalis merely stared at him, expression untelling. After many long seconds, her mouth turned to a frown once again. “You’re confident,” it was a simple statement, bereft of accusation, “and you’re not lying. I have no doubt that is at least what you believe Firefly told you. If it is indeed true, then some things are beginning to make more sense, and more than one of my changelings may have excuses I am growing desperate to hear.

“I know you still think I’m lying, that I’m trying to placate you. I can see it in your eyes—” Roast glared harder at her obvious statement, “—and in your heart. Whether you believe me or not means little, but know that if you are correct, you have done myself and the entire hive a great service today. While I cannot let you go, nor allow you your relationship, I will grant you the knowledge that, if Firefly’s most grievous offense was loving you, she will be unharmed. I will also personally ensure your dreams of her are nothing but pleasant. That said,” her voice turned dark, “if you somehow manage another attempt at escape, my grace will swiftly come to an end and you will discover what my changelings are capable of.”

Roast growled at her. She could keep her victory and her threats. He’d find a way. “Fine. I know there’s no way I can get out of here.” Not today. “Do what you will.”

Chrysalis looked him over a little while longer before her face softened once again. “It’s not often I have such candid conversations, and you are the first pony I’ve had one with in some time. For what it’s worth, I am sorry our paths have crossed. Nature is a cruel mistress and a wolf is given no say in its character.” She peered past Roast. “You may continue.”

Roast jerked again as his tub was tugged forward. A short ways later, it turned into the sea of sleeping ponies. A couple rows deep and the basin slowed, then stopped under one of the black masses he’d spotted earlier. He glanced up and saw it was another anchor-like thing, the same of which he’d ripped open.

Magic surrounded him and he was levitated up again. His body slid into his new prison and he fought the fresh tears that welled up. Tears of anger and frustration, he convinced himself. His only comfort was that he’d broken from his sleep twice. A third time wouldn’t be hard. It couldn’t be.

The changeling who wheeled him over magicked his cocoon up to the black mass, his body scrunching uncomfortably at the bottom. Another flitted near the ceiling, attaching the membrane to the new anchor with the magical application of changeling saliva. After it was secure, the first released its magic, then flew up and flipped around, landing and sticking to a moss-baren portion of the ceiling. Roast was taken aback when it didn’t fall off and idly wondered why Firefly never mentioned she could climb walls. Unhindered by his surprise, the changeling skittered along the ceiling and up into one of the holes he’d seen earlier.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roast spotted Chrysalis approaching. A frown began to cross his face, even from his undignified position. Not but a moment after she stopped, a few drips on his head drew his attention up. The drips from one of the holes in the anchor quickly turned into a diagonal spout of familiar, green liquid. The queen looked on in silence over the next few minutes as his cocoon was filled yet again. Soon, he was floating, his hooves lifting off the bottom and head bobbing above the fluid.

Chrysalis stepped forward, right up to the transparent wall, earning another glare. “I suggest you exhale,” she began, the cocoon walls slightly distorting her words, “then breathe it in of your own accord. It’s far more pleasant than forcing us to do it for you.”

Arguments and curses rose in his throat like bile, if only to spite her with the barest of inconvenience, regardless of his discomfort. But it would solve nothing. Now he could only hope he’d wake up again, to get one more try.

He had to.

The fluid reached his jaw and he breathed in one last breath before lowering his head. His vision clouded before the liquid settled across his eyes. He stared back at the now green-tinted queen and held onto his last remnants of air. After many spiteful, pitiful seconds, his lungs began to burn and he released as much air as he could in a long stream before drawing the liquid back in.

Instinct and intellect fought and he choked on the liquid. Little bubbles filtered from his nose and he clambered upwards, only to find all air gone. Right as the panic nearly overcame him, the drowning sensation dissipated. He breathed in and back out several more times, the last vestiges of air leaving his lungs.

His body floated to the middle where he found Chrysalis, not having moved even a centimeter. He stared at her as she watched him in turn.

Without warning, her horn lit and Roast reeled back as a beam of magic streaked through the membrane, hitting him in the forehead. An unknown amount of time passed before his senses returned, dizziness and a spinning world greeting him.

Queen Chrysalis was still there, yet his dizziness was quickly replaced by a sense of peace. He seemed to recall being upset with her, but he struggled to remember why. The one thing he knew with absolute certainty, was she wouldn’t hurt him, nor his wife, nor any creature. Sweet Leaf was waiting for him and the queen was ready to take him. She was kind and just and she knew what was best for all of them.

Everything was going to be okay.

As a smile finally graced his face, the queen’s gentle presence and promise of a lifetime with his love lulled him from consciousness.


> Act II ~ Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hard, chitinous hooves pounded against firm rubber. Heavy breaths came from the changeling as she pushed herself to finish strong on her sixteenth lap.

Spindle trained her eyes forward, the usual frown having settled onto her exhausted face. Only a single lap left and yet it was still as unfulfilling as every other run. She wasn’t a runner. She never had been. But it was the only thing that came remotely close to being out there.

Her eyes flicked above at the ‘lings flying their laps above and her frown creased into a scowl. She’d tried that as her outlet and found it utterly unsatisfying. There wasn’t enough room in the gym, so the only option was to fly back and forth, like a ceiling swimming pool. At least when she ran, she didn’t have to stop and tag each wall, back and forth, over and over. She flew enough to stay fit, but that was it.

Coming to the halfway point from her self-designated finish line, she hunkered down into a full gallop. She rushed past a few others trotting or cantering on the outer lanes. Curving along the bend, her finish came into view. The muscles beneath her carapace strained as she eked out that last bit of effort left in her reserve.

Twenty meters.

Fifteen.

Five…

A growl and hiss escaped her at the last four slams of her hooves against the track.

Done.

She panted as she came down to a cantering cooldown lap on the outer lane. Her wings lifted out and slowly fanned the dissipating heat away from her dry, sweatless body. An unsatisfying run as usual, but it was something.

Only a few more years, girl. Just a few more and you’ll get back out there.

A couple others ran past and she wondered if they were as unfulfilled as she was. She rather doubted it. They probably didn’t even know what the outside world was like. Or maybe they didn’t care and were perfectly content wasting away under the desert sand.

Many months back on that desperate, horrible day, she’d called the hive her home to return to. It wasn’t a home, it was a prison. A tomb. They all did the same things, day in and day out. There were games and morale events, but there was such little variety. There were no restaurants to go to, no plays to watch, no ponies to meet, no parks to visit.

If only she’d stuck around Hoofington for one more day. If only she’d gone to see Skitter before she left.

She hated herself for that decision all those months ago.

Like all the other changelings in the hive, she was underfed, but she’d take starving and free over hungry and safe any day.

With a final huff, she completed her cooldown lap and headed off the track to the water table.

“You looked pretty intense today, Spindle,” A bored-looking changeling in a yellow sash behind the table said. They filled a cup with water for her. “How was the run?”

Spindle magicked the offered glass and took a deep drink. She emptied it and gave it back with a tired smile. “Hey, Mantodea. It was alright. I think I might bump it up another kilo or two soon.”

“That’s good.” They refilled her water. “I’m kinda glad more changelings don’t push themselves like you. We’d be out of love in a week. Speaking of,” from behind their table, they levitated out a little metal token, “here’s your fitness incentive.”

She took it and her eyeridges raised at the sight of three heart symbols emblazoned on it. “A triple?”

“Yep.” Mantodea didn’t even crack a smile. “You’ve exceeded the weekly caloric expenditure for a double serving and crossed over into a triple. Usually only the guards manage that.”

“That’s awesome! Thank you. I could definitely go for a bit more love.” She gulped down the second cup, finishing with an exhausted huff. “And thanks for the water, as usual. See you tomorrow?”

They sighed. “I’ll be here…”

“Bye, Mantodea!” She managed a little smile and a wave before walking to the exit and out into the halls.

The smile faded from her face and she let out a sigh. If there was ever a time she was glad she didn’t pick the worker caste, it was every time she talked with them.





The cafeteria’s din surrounded Spindle as she set her tray on the table. She sat and stared for a long moment at the three oatcakes, peanut butter toast, and a serving of almonds and pecans. Alongside it were three lightly-glowing, half-day’s rations of love crystals.

“I am getting so tired of these meals.” Spindle groaned and resigned to poking into her meal.

“Hello to you too, Spindle,” the changeling across from her said, crunching on a few nuts from his half-finished meal.

“Yeah, sorry. Hi, Patella.” She stuffed a chunk of cinnamon sugar oatcake into her mouth. “I thought they said at last month’s morale meet that we were getting a stock of Spring food.”

Patella shrugged and swallowed his bite. “I thought so, too. Maybe it all got lost. Or maybe Cercus is hoarding it all.”

“I doubt even an advisor could get away with that.” Spindle took a bite of her toast. “‘Sides, there’s no way the queen isn’t sick of this stuff too.”

“Probably.” He levitated a few more nuts up. “So, how was the run?”

It was Spindle’s turn to shrug. “Same as usual. Though, Mantodea bumped my love token up from a double.” She levitated one of the three crystals up and took in a little wisp. Glancing back at Patella, she expected a glare, but found a smirk instead.

“Yeah? That's pretty nice of them. Well, guess what I got today.” He magicked up his own crystal.

She squinted her eyes at it. The glow seemed pretty normal to her. “I dunno, a percent more than normal?”

“Nope! I talked to Palpus from the kitchen and she managed to set aside one of the dense ones!”

“Ah.” Spindle set hers down and picked up a few nuts, suppressing the sigh that wanted to rise up with the reminder of her past role. “You know they half those, right? You’re not getting any more than usual.”

“Sure, but the taste,” he hummed and blissfully shut his eyes as he drew in more love. “It’s wonderful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Wait,” one of his eyes popped open and he scrunched his brow at her. “Have you never had one?”

Spindle shook her head. “I was never lucky enough to get one before I left for collector duty and I haven’t been lucky enough since I got back.”

“Huh.” Patella glanced at the crystal in his magic, seeming to ponder something. A couple moments later, he looked back up. “There’s, like, half left if you wanted to trade.”

She glared at him. “Uh huh. I’m not trading one of mine for your half.”

“I’m not trying to—” he scoffed. “You could just eat part of yours! If you don’t want it, all you have to do is say so.”

A deep exhale came along with Spindle’s softening face. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Sure, I’d like to give the crystal a try.” She quickly drew in love from one of her crystals until she felt there was only around half left and then floated it over. “Here.”

They swapped and she peered into the crystal. Merely looking at the thing made sadness creep up. If only she’d had one of these on that night, she’d still be there. Four months as a collector barely got her hooves wet, but it was enough to leave her wanting.

She missed the sun and moon and sky. She missed Hoofington. She missed the comradery, even if it came with Tarsus’s complaining.

But most of all, Spindle missed her.

“Hey, you alright?”

A sharp breath came with her broken focus and she looked back up at Patella. “Yeah, sorry. I got lost in thought.” Spindle lit her horn, drawing in a taste and her eyes involuntarily fluttered shut.

As love slowly trickled in, the conversations and clattering of plates and trays fell into the background. It was… amazing. Like a warm hug, a loving kiss, and a sweet cuddle in front of a fireplace. If she could have nothing more than this for the rest of her life, she’d never ask for anything ever again.

And much like mixing an alarm clock with a wonderful dream, the love abruptly stopped. The clattering and clashing sounds shot back into her ears like a train and Spindle opened her eyes to the sight of an empty, gray crystal.

“Yep, that seemed like my first time, too.” Across the table, Patella sported a half-cocked grin. “Pretty great, huh?”

Spindle nodded and set the spent crystal down. “Y-yeah. Wow. I had no idea.”

“Now do you get why someling like me might try to go out of their way to get some?”

“Yeah,” Spindle repeated and took another bite of her oatcake before grimacing. “Jeez, even this stuff seems bland now. Well, more bland than it already was.”

“Mhm!” Patella finished off his last bit of toast. “That’s why I usually save at least half for after the meal. But hay, now that you know what it’s like, you wanna help… secure some more?”

Her face dropped into a frown and she narrowed her eyes. “Patella, you better not be asking what I think you’re asking.”

His eyes grew wide and he put his hooves up defensively. “Hey, hey! No, not like that! All I’m talking about is some trading. Like you said, those’re halved, so we’re not getting any extra love. Palpus has this thing.

“She’s tired of being a worker and I figured I could help. If she can show enough aptitude for another caste, they might consider moving her. And you have lots of experience in more than one! Together, we could get her moved and get lots of tasty love while we’re at it!”

Spindle hummed. She could understand what that was like. But at the same time, it felt… dirty and she couldn’t put a hoof on why. “I dunno. I’ll think about it.”

“Alright, well, let me know if you decide you want something that tastes like more than nothing every day.” A moment of silence passed before Patella spoke up again. “Oh yeah, forgot to tell you. I decided to apply for consort duties.”

She scrunched a brow at him. “How old are you again?”

“Sixteen.”

“Right, same as me. Have you asked about the average and minimum age of males the queen accepts?”

Patella scoffed. “Please, I’ve been in a caste for nearly three years. I’m plenty old enough and more than capable.”

As someling whose primary duty was dealing with the queen’s eggs and offspring, that was all the answer she needed. “I didn’t ask if your body is fully functional. I asked if you checked both your eligibility and your likelihood.”

“Well, uh, yeah of course.”

She didn’t need her collector training to see the truth in his inability to meet her eyes. So, she simply cocked her head and put on a smile. “Then good! I hope Queen Chrysalis picks you.”

Silence reigned for a few moments as she continued with her meal and he poked at his leftover crumbs.

Suddenly, his head shot up and he put his hooves on the table. “Oh, yeah! I totally forgot! Speaking of the queen, you’ll never guess what happened a couple days ago.”

Spindle knew this tone and promptly suppressed an eye roll and a preparatory sigh. It better not be like the time a ‘massive,’ barely-ten-centimeter-long sandworm attacked. “What happened?”

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “So, like, we got this new pony in, right? Apparently he woke up. Which, it’s not all that uncommon for them to wake up once, but when they go back under, they almost always stay under.”

“Uh huh.” Spindle absently finished off her nuts.

“Well, this one came back up! So, I was just minding my own business in the break room when Cercus, the advisor himself, storms in and points at me and Alula and says, ‘you and you, follow me,’ all ominous and serious-like. So, we follow and when we get out in the hall, I kid you not, the queen and three guards were there. Alula and I trail behind Cercus into the pod chamber and in the middle, there was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”

Spindle popped the last bit of her meal into her mouth and magicked up her drink. “Sounds pretty crazy.” Her empty crystal caught her eye and she remembered it was her turn to get the grubs’s love.

“It was. When we got there—and I have never seen a pony do this before—he apparently started tearing into the flow mount on the ceiling with his teeth! Like ripping it apart! I was afraid he was gonna get out and attack all of us!”

The eye roll was getting harder to keep down, though her second crystal helped. He does remember I used to be a collector, right? Knowing ponies was my job. “And what did this pony look like? Was he big? Really muscular? What race and color?”

“Oh, uhh, he was an earth pony and he was… yellow? Or brown? Or maybe it was blue? I don’t remember and there was stasis fluid messing with the colors anyway! The point is, before he could get out, the queen nudged him and he whipped around and growled all menacing-like. He and Queen Chrysalis had this super fierce stare down, but of course he eventually totally cowered in her presence.”

Spindle mentally sighed. I need to learn not to indulge him. Some of us have actual work to do instead of waiting around for a pony to walk.

“But then, the queen looked at what he did and was like, ‘go get the receiving tub.’ So, Alula and I went to go get it and when we got back, Alula cut him out. And then he popped out of the stasis fluid and spat it all out before he started screaming and yelling, saying like, ‘I love her and you stole her away from me! I’m gonna make you pay!’ But, the queen got super pissed and yelled at him to shut up. We had to go put ponies to sleep from the queen’s yell, but I’m pretty sure I heard like, all three of the guards holding him back. So, then after they’d—”

Oookay, I think that’s enough of that. “Hey, Patella, some random pony screaming about stolen love is really interesting, but my shift starts in fifteen minutes. Maybe we can finish this tomorrow?”

“Oh, right. I should probably get to work too. Well, long story short, the queen had him subdued and put him back asleep herself.”

“Huh, very strange,” Spindle said as she stood and grabbed her tray. “Hopefully he stays under this time.”

“Oh yeah. There’s no way he’s waking up from that. We learned in training that when the queen puts ponies under, she usually adds a little mind control with her somnolence and hypnosis spells.”

“Mhm,” she hummed as they slid their trays in the dirty dishes window and headed for the hallway.

“The next time we wake him for a walk, he’s gonna be completely delirious. Nothing short of a solid punch to the face would break those spells. Maybe not even then!”

“Right.” She paused outside the cafeteria door. “Anyway, I gotta stop by the commissary to pick up love for the grubs. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep, same time! See you!” He waved as they parted in opposite directions.

Once she’d turned down a corridor, she let out a deep sigh. Those tall tales of his are gonna get someling in trouble some day…





A large, wooden door loomed in front of Spindle. It stared at her, taunting her to make the first move and she glared back.

Sometimes she regretted picking the caretaker caste. What was so bad about filing paperwork all day? She’d be stuck inside, doing buckall regardless. If only she’d thought about how much of a pain caretaker duties were. ‘If only’ seemed to be a running theme with her.

After another minute, Spindle groaned at the filthy cheater of a door, having the audacity to put itself between her and her ill-chosen duties. She took a deep breath, feeling the pouch of crystals shift on her back, and readied herself for another long, hot, humid day filled with crying and hisses. Her magic opened the door and a mild rise in temperature greeted her. Stepping inside, she closed the first door before turning to open the inner door. As it opened, the warm air immediately turned hot and stuffy and typical noises of hisses and screams filled that same hot air.

Inside was a veritable miniature playground. Toys, little ramps, winding swirls to climb, and pillars. Lots of pillars, around one every three meters. This was one section of the hive where the queen would not tolerate a collapse or cave-in.

“Hey, Ootheca,” Spindle called out as she shut the door and stepped over the belly-high fence, “you in yet?”

“In the kitchen, Spindle!”

Taking note of the few nearby grubs, Spindle carefully stepped deeper into the muggy room. A couple spotted her and turned, probably for attention or to play in her leg holes, but Spindle picked up her pace by the tiniest bit to outrun them. Though, even that slow speed made her nervous.

Back on her first day, Spindle took to heart the warning that Advisor Cercus had given. She indeed did not want to be the first caretaker in many decades that decided to squeeze the green soup from the hissing wiggle pouches.

So, soft, careful steps she made. She grimaced as more grubs stopped their hissing and wrestling and began squirming in her direction.

“Sorry, little ones, you can’t come with.” Spindle called and picked up the pace as much as she was comfortable. “Give me a minute and my legs are all yours.”

“They’re as cuddly as usual today. Which really sucks for me.”

“Oh?” Spindle replied as she rounded the final pillar and saw Ootheca through the wide kitchen doorway. Unfortunately for her, there were several grubs staring through the little mesh fence at Ootheca, but now found another source of entertainment. “Why’s that?” Deftly weaving through the dozen or so grubs, she stepped over the fence and checked herself for hangers-on.

“Because, once we’re finished feeding them breakfast, you have an appointment,” Ootheca said, not looking away from her bowl of half-mashed fish, peas, and spinach.

Spindle blinked a few times. “I… do?”

“Mhm. Advisor Cercus stopped by maybe five minutes ago. He said you’re to report to his office after we finish feeding. Don’t ask what for; he didn’t say.”

“Well, chitin dust,” Spindle cursed as she set the pouch of crystals on the counter. From it, she pulled out two brightly-glowing ones. “Maybe we should wait on letting the night shift go before we’re both here, and stick around until both evening shift ‘lings show up.”

Ootheca shrugged and finished with the mash before fishing out twenty-three individual bowls and a bunch of spoons. “It’s fine. After the you-know-what went kaput, we went to twelve-hour shifts and half of those only had one ‘ling each for a good month or so. Besides, I’ve had more than my share of days taking care of grubs on my own. I’ll be fine for one morning.”

“If you say so.”

With extra help from Spindle, the two absorbed a single crystal each and proceeded to hawk up liquid love into the mash. They then divvied up the grubs’ breakfast, broke up any headbutting and biting to claim first in line, and before Spindle knew it, the feeding was finished.

“Well… I guess that’s my cue,” Spindle announced and began pulling out grubs from her leg holes, much to their protests. Another careful set of steps and one fence later and Spindle found herself at the door. “Wish me luck!”

“Luck!” Spindle heard as she shut the inner door. She gave one quick check for uninvited passengers before opening the outer door, the hive’s cool air sending a shiver down her back. With a deep breath, she began the short trek up to Cercus’s office.

Every time she stepped through the administration hall, the same wrenching in her heart accompanied it. It wrenched the same as it had when she’d been released from Search and Rescue and every time she’d entered it since. The feeling in her chest grew as she neared the second door on the left.

The Collector’s door.

Without ceremony, the door passed by as it did every other time. Maybe one day…

She continued on, past a couple more doors, a left turn down a side hall, and she arrived at her hopefully-temporary caste’s door. Two knocks and a few seconds later, “Enter!” came from inside.

Slowly, she pulled down on the handle and let it swing open. Stepping inside, she was careful to catch the door and lightly close it behind her. She turned to the changeling at the old, wooden desk, who had just finished writing and set her quill into its ink well. “Hello, Cricket, ma’am. I heard Advisor Cercus asked for me?”

Cricket nodded. “He did. Give me one moment.” She got up from behind her desk and walked to the closed door to Spindle’s left. A single knock was given before Cricket opened the door.

“…you’re still not convinced— Ah, hello, Cricket.”

“Hello, sir. Spindle has arrived, as you requested.”

“Excellent. Send her in, please.”

Cricket stepped back and gave a nod to Spindle.

She sent a polite little smile back before walking past her into the Caretaker advisor’s office for only the second time in her life. Immediately, she noticed that she and Advisor Cercus were not the only ones present. Standing near the back wall was a guard that he must have been speaking with. It had been a couple years since they’d drilled guard ranks into their brains, but her eyes still instinctually landed on the crinet. On it, she spotted a star-tipped horn, a pair of wings, and both chevrons. 

Her body nearly locked up midstep at the familiar insignia. What the buck is General Elytra doing here? What the buck am I doing here?! The last time she’d seen the general was when she was assigned to Search and Rescue. That was understandable, but now?

Spindle took a deep breath and swiftly realized her panic had come through uninhibited. She looked over to Cercus. “Uhm, h-hello sir. I heard you called for me?”

Advisor Cercus nodded. “I did. And please allay your fears, you’ve done nothing wrong. I simply have a task for you. Come in and have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs across from his desk.

Spindle gave a shaky smile and briefly glanced at the general, then back to Cercus. “Ah, uh, sure! I can do tasks.” She walked in and did as she was told, a click coming from behind as the door shut.

“I should hope so. The original assignee to this was indisposed and unavailable for this morning. I’m certain you’ll be pleased to know that you will return to your assigned duties after this.” Thick hints of pride spilled from him like spittle from one of her grubs. “After all, what could be more satisfying than ensuring generations after us are ready to begin the next stage of their lives?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw General Elytra’s eyes give a tiny couple of twitches. Spindle put on the best placating smile she could. “Very little, sir.”

“Indeed. Now, this task is rather simple. However, you are to be discreet. Noling that doesn’t need to know should be told. That means unless myself or General Elytra tell you otherwise, you don’t talk about it. I trust a changeling of your background can understand?”

Spindle nodded.

“Good.” He shifted back in his seat. “A couple days ago, we received a changeling that had need of… investigation.”

“Cercus.” General Elytra scolded and narrowed her eyes at the advisor before looking to Spindle. “What he means is, there’s a changeling in our prison and it’s the caretakers’ job to take care of our prison.”

“Yes. Apologies,” Cercus deadpanned. “Your job this morning is to provide food, both solid and love, for the prisoner and then clean their cell. It should be straightforward and pretty damn hard to screw up. However, I believe the general had specific instructions for you.”

“I do, thank you.” Elytra’s gaze turned back to Spindle and softened. “The prisoner’s cell has an anti-magic lining. This prevents us from drawing in love, so when you arrive, my guards stationed there will have the prisoner transferred to a standard cell for the meal. They will continue to watch over both of you during this time.

“As for the prisoner herself, she may or may not speak to you as she has been nearly silent since she arrived. If she does talk, feel free to politely indulge, however do take anything she says with a grain of salt. She’s in prison for a reason, after all. But remember,” the corners of her mouth turned down and her brow creased, “that she currently resides there, as well as the reason, is to be kept secret. Do you understand?”

Spindle’s lips tightened and she nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

“Good.” Elytra relaxed. “Any questions?”

“No, ma’am.” Spindle shook her head, though she did notice the general hadn’t actually said the reason. She suspected asking why had as good a chance of getting a mouthful of dirt as it did an actual answer.

“You know where the prison is?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve passed by its hall a couple times.”

“Then that’s all the information I have for you. Cercus?”

He nodded to Elytra then faced Spindle again. “After this, proceed to the kitchens and the love store for the predetermined meal. State you’re there on task from me. And here,” his horn lit and, from behind his desk, up levitated a pair of saddlebags, “keep it all in these and don’t take them out until you’re past the first set of bars. The cleaning supplies are already in there. Remember to take the bags back to storage after you’re finished. Also, try to keep the food upright. Any questions?”

Spindle took the saddlebags in her magic. “No, sir.”

“Excellent.” He leaned in to her and fixed her with a stare and a small frown. “Do your best today, Spindle. Don’t forget who you represent now, but also remember where you came from too.”

“Cercus.” General Elytra huffed and glared at him. “She is a competent changeling and can handle a simple delivery and cleaning job.”

He gave a half glance over at the General. “I know she—”

“And she is capable of handling this very simple task, same as any caretaker.”

Spindle resisted the urge of allowing her confusion to furrow her eyeridges as her eyes shifted between the two leaders.

“Of course she is.” Cercus looked at Spindle with a smile, appearing more than a little wooden. “I have full confidence in your abilities, Spindle. There were many of my caste to choose from, but it was you who ended up with the job.”

From the side, Spindle swore she heard a tiny hissing sigh from General Elytra, but a quick glance showed her to be simply staring straight ahead at the door.

“I know you’ll do a good job today, Spindle,” Cercus continued. “Show us what the caretakers can do.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be sure to make you… proud.” Her face nearly twisted up as the unintended words spilling from her mouth sent her stomach into a knot. She quickly buried the odd feeling.

“Very good.” If he noticed her little blunder, he didn’t show it. “Any further questions?” 

“No, sir.” Spindle shook her head again.

“Then you are dismissed.”

She merely nodded and silently turned to the door. Her magic pulled it open and she stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her. “Have a good day, Miss Cricket.”

“You too,” Cricket said without sparing a glance away from her work.

Making her way out into the hall, Spindle was a bundle of more than a few emotions. She refused to acknowledge her misspoken word and instead focused on her distraction from the monotonous. She was happy to deal with something other than grubs all day, but at the same time, it was a little odd that they’d chosen her. It seemed any caretaker was more than suited for it. A right turn and a last-minute sidestep out of the way of another changeling barely registered with her.

Why her? Ootheca was older and plenty more experienced. Spindle was willing to bet she’d even been assigned to the prison before. She also knew there were plenty of ‘lings in Pony Maintenance that had been around for a long while. And if Patella was to be believed, they had the spare time.

She left the Administration Hall and headed for the main thoroughfare, mind still buzzing. They said it needed to be kept a secret. Maybe because she was a collector? She scrunched her muzzle at the thought. True, collectors were good at keeping secrets, but the whole hive should be good at keeping secrets.

Except, her thoughts turned to the conversation with Patella and she deadpanned at the next tunnel. Maybe not all of them. Still, even if it was because she was a collector, keeping the prisoner a secret wasn’t that hard.

There had to be someling better suited than the cross-trained newbie, right? Maybe she should have risked that mouthful of dirt and asked.

Too late now. She shrugged and tried to brush away the thoughts.





Spindle was proud of herself.

She’d nearly taken a vertical tunnel before remembering her package’s aversion to being sideways. Instead, she’d taken the long, mostly-empty, spiral cargo passage and was happy to report—to no one but herself—that there had been no sign of the meal box or thermos in her saddlebags tipping over.

Just ahead was the tunnel, a placard stating “Prison” next to it. Glancing around as inconspicuously as she could, she noted noling seemed to be watching. General Elytra hadn’t stated she needed to not be seen, but she figured it couldn’t hurt.

As she turned into the hall, the closed passage drew a confused eyeridge raise. The bunch of dark, metal bars were set in gray cave wall, illuminated by wall lanterns on either side. It and the guards posted outside looked like something that belonged in one of the foal books Wavy Palette had illustrated.

“Do you need something?” the nearest guard asked.

“I’m here on behalf of Advisor Cercus. And, erm, General Elytra?” Spindle idly shifted her saddlebags. “I’m filling in for caretaking the prison this morning.”

“Right.” They turned and magicked a key out from under their wing. Unlocking and pulling open the door, they motioned a hoof inward. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Spindle nodded and received a grunt in return. The door shut behind her as she entered the prison proper. Ahead, there were three guards posted outside a single cell and Spindle’s brows raised of their own volition. Whatever this changeling did must have been a pretty big deal.

The first guard glanced over before turning back. “Hey, meal’s here. Move her to Two-B.” The feminine-sounding guard turned back to Spindle. “Come on, it’ll be in here.”

Only one syllable escaped Spindle’s mouth before she noticed only one guard turned to the cell. The other was staring right at her, face expressionless and emotions null.

What felt like half a dozen seconds later, she broke eye contact and turned to the now-open cell, the other guard’s piercing stare never leaving her.

“She’s to go on the far side, so set up over there.” The first guard pointed to the table in the center, occupying much of the cell.

Spindle nodded and entered. The table was placed right in the center and had a rail bolted along the far side’s edge. She noticed there was no seat. Sad, but I guess that’s the life of a prisoner.

She opened her saddlebags and levitated out the meal box. As Spindle removed the top in preparation, she was surprised to find a hearty breakfast inside. There was oatmeal with nuts and blueberries, a chocolate chip muffin, cheese-covered toast, and some yogurt with a bunch of dark, little seed things in it. Alongside the box, she pulled out a thermos with a wooden cup and transferred the liquid. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of orange juice.

Lastly, she levitated out the love crystal and looked between it and the apparently very-well-treated prisoner’s meal. She squinted at it. There’s no way they would… right?

With the tiniest of tastes, her eyes shot open and she stared at the crystal. They did! What the buck!

She set the crystal down next to the food with a frown. This prisoner’s getting pampered! A lavish meal like I haven’t seen in months and a dense love crystal! Spindle huffed. I wonder if there’s a spa hidden down here, too.

Hoofsteps behind drew her attention. She glanced and gave a start at the changeling guard now across the way, those same eyes still intently fixed on Spindle. She couldn’t help but feel like she was being tested. 

From around the corner came one guard who stopped just past the cell. Next came one of the most downtrodden-looking changelings she’d seen in a long while, followed by the third guard.

Spindle watched in confusion as the supposed prisoner, eyes down, turned into the cell and walked to the other side of the table. She looked pretty much the same as every other changeling, maybe a little longer frill on her head, but that wasn’t too uncommon, either. Her chitin was clean and no smells wafted from her. Spindle at first wondered why she wasn’t producing pheromones, though after a moment’s consideration she didn’t think she could blame her. Spindle would probably hide her scent too, if she were the one in prison.

The prisoner sat on the ground and brought a hoof up to the side, not raising her eyes. The first guard magicked a set of hoof manacles from his side, clasped one through one of the prisoner’s leg holes, and the other onto the table’s rail. Both sides were clasped tight, then the guard stepped back into the corner and sat down, keeping eye on their charge.

The mare looked up at the food and snorted. “What, did the cooks have a stroke or have I finally earned enough gold stars?” she said, her voice gravely and hoarse.

The voice almost had a familiar lilt to it, though Spindle wasn’t sure if she really wanted to find out if she knew her. Regardless, she did remember General Elytra saying something about politely conversing if the prisoner talked.

“I don’t know.” Spindle shrugged. “I’m just the delivery ‘ling.”

Before she’d finished the sentence, the prisoner’s eyes darted up to Spindle. “Did they finally say talking was—” Her head followed her eyes and she fully faced Spindle, “You’re new. What happened to the other caretaker?”

“I’m only filling in. They had—” Spindle whipped around at the door clanging shut. “Hey!”

“Let us know when you want back out,” the guard that led her in said. “We can’t leave the door open.”

“Okay, then I want back—”

“Spindle?” The voice, a little more clear, came from across the table. It was small and almost familiar despite how rough it was. 

Spindle stared as chains rattled and not a moment later, the scent of the other changeling hit her. Her eyes went wide as memories filled her mind. Coffee, tea, and newspapers. Clinking dishes and tasty cookies.

A lemon yellow mare pinning her to the ground in that back alley. The mare’s source chasing Spindle off.

“Firefly?” She finally breathed out, just as quiet as her old castemate.

Concern and disbelief filled Spindle as her eyes darted all over the other changeling. There was no way. Firefly couldn’t do anything that would put her in prison. Especially not here, so far from Hoofington. It couldn’t be.

And yet it was.

“Spindle,” Firefly took a deep, shaky breath before clearing her rough throat, “thank Chrysalis you’re okay. We hadn’t heard much of anything and I thought after…” she trailed off. “Well, I'm just glad you're okay. But what happened? What are you doing here?”

Immediately, Spindle was overcome by emotions. She was overcome by excitement and joy at meeting her once more. Not once since being reassigned to the caretakers did she think she’d ever cross paths with Firefly again. Her first instinct was to dart around the table and draw her into a hug, but she quickly tempered that. She wasn’t sure if Firefly would appreciate it. Or that she’d be allowed.

But then her happiness died back down to confusion as the dimly-lit walls of the cell became viscerally apparent.

Spindle’s face contorted in confusion as she approached the table. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? This is the prison!”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Firefly huffed and raised an eyeridge. A short moment later, her expression fell and she returned her eyes to her meal. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard. It’s been going around the whole hive, I’m sure.”

Spindle shook her head and softly clacked a hoof onto the table. “Nothing’s made its way anywhere, as far as I know.” She put on a smile as Firefly peered back up. “I was told you being here was a secret, so I’m afraid I don’t know anything. Could you tell me, please?”

She noticed Firefly glance beyond Spindle and grimace before looking back at her. “I… well, I’m sure they'll publicize it soon anyway. I suppose if there was anyling I could trust to begin with, it’d be you.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Where to start? Hm… you, uh, you remember Fine Roast, right?”

“Your source? Of course I do! It'd be hard to forget our last encounter.”

“Right, that.” Firefly deflated and looked down at her food. “I kind of, uh, fell in love with him.”

Spindle blinked and her head tilted the slightest bit. Firefly had fallen in love with a pony? That was… unexpected. Spindle remembered the collector lesson on the topic, but there was more giggling and gagging during that class than anything.

“Okay? So what?” Spindle raised an eyeridge. “That hardly feels worthy of this.”

Firefly looked back up and shook her head. “Things would definitely be a lot simpler if that was it.” Firefly sighed. “Turns out he fell in love with me, too.”

“Fell in love with you? But wasn't he already?”

A harsh and humorless bark of laughter came out of Firefly. “That's the funny thing. He was.”

Spindle furrowed her brow and gave an awkward smile. “I'm… afraid I don't understand.”

“You know, it's really been some wonderfully horrible luck for you and I.” A mirthless smile fell upon Firefly's face. “Four years ago, what happened to you back in Hoofington, happened to me. Except my husb—source did nothing.”

“I still don't…” Spindle’s eyes darted back and forth between the other mare’s. Her eyes went wide and she gasped as it clicked. “He found out!”

Firefly snorted. “Yep. He found out a long time ago and didn’t say a thing. After Canterlot happened, he confronted me. I panicked and ran off, but I tried to do the thing you couldn't. I went back for my love and he, of course, caught me. Instead of—” the small, joyless smile finally dropped from her face as she broke away from Spindle’s gaze and steadied herself with a deep breath. “Instead of screaming for help, he begged me to stay. The idiot. But if he's an idiot, I'm absolutely insane for agreeing.”

“Wait wait wait.” Spindle clacked her forehooves up onto the table. “That's a thing? That can happen?!”

“You're looking at living proof.” Firefly threw a shaky grin before dropping it and accepting back her prodigal frown. “But that hardly matters when the powers that be shove you into prison for it.”

“That seems wrong? If he was happy to give his love, willingly even, how is that bad?”

“Well, it’s kind of…” Firefly winced and hesitated, “a bit worse than all that. Wavy Palette, well, he got me arrested and investigated under suspicion of being a changeling.”

Spindle’s eyes bugged out. “Wait what?!”

“Yeah. Cuffs, a carriage escort, and everything. Silly, stupid me thought I could convince the detective I wasn't a changeling. I definitely couldn't.”

“Okay, now I'm even more confused.” Spindle rubbed a hoof against her forehead. “I know for a fact the hive spent a ton of resources breaking just a few ’lings out of Equestrian holding. Yet they thought to take you from another prison and stick you in their own?”

“N-not exactly.” Firefly closed her eyes for a moment and drew in another shaky breath. “I think I'm here because Roast managed to convince her, the detective, to let me go. He explained he knew what I was and still loved me. Somehow, she agreed and due to some… personal things of hers, we became friends.”

Spindle opened her mouth, but couldn't find the right words. She really felt for her. Spindle hated having to leave her collectors behind in Hoofington. They were the closest thing to friends she’d had, even if she maybe got more attached than she should have. Losing someone that thought of her as a friend as much as she did in return seemed—

“Ah,” Spindle finally managed. “I think this is beginning to make an unfortunate amount of sense.”

“Yeah, and now I have to wait here for my turn to go before the queen herself. And, you know…” She paused with a hard swallow before her lips curled to a tiny, trembling, pathetic smile, “I've tried to stay strong. I've tried to convince myself it'll be okay, that the queen will listen to me, that we'll be able to go back to Hoofington and live happily ever after. I've tried so hard. But I don't even know where he is!”

Firefly pulled her chained hoof up to her face, but merely managed to yank her hoof against the table. She huffed and wiped her eyes with her other hoof.

“I'm scared, Spindle. I'm terrified and I have no idea what to do. No changeling in their right mind would be so broken over a pony, yet here I am. All I can think is… what if I can't convince the queen? What if they drained him of everything? What if, if he’s—”

Spindle felt her heart nearly tear out of her chest at the first sob that wracked Firefly. Spindle instinctually rose and almost began her way around, but hesitation overcame her. Firefly was her mentor, the changeling Spindle looked up to the most. Their relationship had been professional at best. Would she want Spindle’s comfort? Would she be offended, or only see it as pity?

As the first tear ran down Firefly’s face and her emotions finally broke through, Spindle decided she didn't care and trotted over.

Gently, she pressed a hoof on the other mare’s shoulder and turned her before embracing Firefly in a tight hug. Spindle’s shoulders sagged in relief and joy as Firefly immediately returned it and tucked her nose into Spindle’s chitin.

“Hey!” The guard next to them jumped to her hooves. “No physical contact with the prisoner!”

Spindle shot the guard a stink eye. “She’s hurting. You wanna hug her instead?”

The guard glanced sideways at the others outside for a short moment before meeting Spindle’s gaze again. “N-no, just… don't take too long.” She replied, rather lamely in Spindle’s opinion, and sat back down on the floor. 

As she rubbed the other mare’s back, Spindle felt her shoulder wet with Firefly’s tears and what was probably snot. But that was perfectly okay. Spindle knew there was little she could offer beyond empty reassurances. She didn't know how long Firefly had been down here, but she was certain there had been no comfort given to the poor ‘ling.

That was one thing she could confidently offer.

Even so, she desperately wished there was something of more substance she could do. She knew if she tried to vouch for her to the queen, it would likely only get in the way. And she was absolutely certain nothing underhooved was going on with Firefly. Or this detective.

With that, she trusted Firefly implicitly.

But, really, that only left the stallion himself. It was still surprising that he loved her, a changeling, and she couldn't help but be curious about why. Or, more specifically, how a pony could love a changeling.

As Firefly’s cries quieted to sniffles, a small frown crossed Spindle’s face. The thought of ponies like the trash that was Silver Varnish back in Cincinneighti came unbidden. Those like him would have everypony believe that changelings were nothing more than disgusting insects. She wondered, if she had met him before the invasion, would he be nothing more than a love-producing cocoon now? Patella would probably make up stories about—

Spindle froze as Patella’s words during breakfast came crashing back down on her. A new pony, waking up in his cocoon. Screaming about his lover being stolen away, and being forced right back under. And Queen Chrysalis herself saw to it, which meant…

Oh… buck.

Firefly leaned out of Spindle’s stiff hooves and sniffled again. “Spindle? Is everything okay?”
> Act II ~ Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Spindle? Is everything okay?” Firefly sniffled as she leaned out of Spindle’s embrace. For the briefest of moments, she saw a thousand meter stare and felt flecks of some kind of distress slip from her.

A tiny gasp broke the moment as Spindle’s eyes refocused on Firefly. “Oh! Yes, I’m sorry. I just—I realized that if both you and Roast are here, what’s happened to the cafe? I know I wasn’t there for long, but even I loved visiting it. And you, of course. Since, you know, you’re kinda the reason I’d go at all.”

Firefly took a deep, shaky breath. She clenched her eyes and tried to compose herself. “I, uh… I don’t really… know? I guess if I’m being honest, I’m more than a little afraid for it.” She wiped her snout with her unchained hoof. Her mind chose again to remind her of the endless, terrible possibilities for the beloved building. “It’s not like the cleanup crews have a reason to care what happens to it. As long as it doesn’t hurt anypony or reveal us, they could have burned it down, for all I know.”

“Hey, now!” Spindle set her hoof onto Firefly’s restrained foreleg. “I very much doubt they’d do that. It would draw too much attention. And besides, I’m sure once the queen hears your story, you’ll be able to go back.”

Firefly rolled her eyes and snorted, but merely managed to blow a glob of mucus out. “Ugh, yuck.” She reached up a hoof to cover her now-very-unsightly muzzle.

“Here, hold on.” Spindle opened one side of her saddlebags, then the other. Her face lit up as she magicked out a few dining napkins.

“Thanks.” Firefly wiped her face and blew her nose before tossing the napkins aside. She looked back to Spindle and huffed. “See, the thing is, I’m not stupid. I have no doubt the queen’s already heard my story. She's already heard of Roast and Aura and why my crystals are so dense. She’s probably heard it a dozen times.

“And I get it,” she continued. “I broke changeling code and told a pony, my source and husband, who already knew his wife wasn’t what she seemed. But I also don’t get it! Why does she need to hear it another time from you cronies?!”

Firefly glared out to the two guards beyond the bars. “Maybe I’m not as cunning and clever as an infiltrator, but I was trained well. No other caretaker had more than one extra guard nor got locked in the cell with me.” She jerked a head to the nearby guard. “Now we get three when, coincidentally, a friend of mine shows up? Five if you count those out in the hall? Barring the one other pony that figured out who I was, why am I still in here instead of harvesting the best bucking love the hive has ever seen?!”

Firefly nearly snarled across the table to the unflinching guards outside. She couldn’t keep the tremble from her jaw and felt the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She drew another deep breath, the habit from training doing nothing to calm her utter helplessness.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Spindle moving closer. Firefly let out a huff and turned back to her friend, a hoof held up. “No. It’s—it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Alright. I thought you might want…” Spindle trailed off.

“I know. And thank you. It’s just that the days have kinda blurred together. A week here? Maybe two since I left Hoofington?” She took another equally-useless deep inhale, held, then released a few seconds later. “One minute I’m wondering when the collector meeting is going to end so I can get back to Roast for a walk through the park and then shopping for… bread and—and cheese! The next minute, I’m being shipped off back to the hive with the only term of endearment being ‘traitor.’”

Spindle bowed her head. “I’m sorry to hear that. That was wrong of them to say.”

“Yeah.” Firefly huffed. “And the changeling who led me back? Clypeus? Coxa? Capitate? I don’t remember, but I really hope I never see him again. I don’t particularly appreciate getting a hoof to the face for not wanting to be paraded around like a housebroken mutt.”

“What?!” Spindle drew back, her eyes growing wide. “He hit you?”

Firefly reached up and tapped her cheek. “Yep, right there. Knocked me straight to the ground. After I finally gave in, he nearly choked me with the leash more than once.”

“Have you told anyling about this?” Spindle’s eyes darted all across Firefly’s face and neck. “There’s no way that’s okay, even with a supposed traitor!”

“And who’s going to care? The guards? An advisor?” Firefly snorted. “The stars-damned queen herself? If she actually gave a buck, she’d have—”

“That is enough!” A deep growl came from beyond the bars and one of the guards stepped closer. "I will not tolerate you speaking of Queen Chrysalis that way.” He turned to Spindle. “I believe you have a job to do. The other cell is waiting.” Keys were levitated out and into the door, before he pulled it open.

“Uh, sure.” Spindle stood and gave Firefly a little smile. “Things are going to be alright. I’m sure of it. We’ll talk after you’re out of here, okay?”

Firefly faced the table and stared down at her meal. “Yeah. Sure.”

“It was really good seeing you again, and it—” the guard cleared his throat and tapped a hoof on the floor. Spindle began her way to the door. “—and it won’t be the last time. I promise.”

Firefly looked up at her friend and managed a tiny smile through her frustration. “Yeah,” she repeated. “I’ll see you later.”

As she magicked up the spoon and toyed with her cold oatmeal, the cell door clanged shut. She glanced up and caught sight of the angry guard and Spindle’s tails retreating around the corner.

The other guard outside, however, caught her eye. They’d kept a cool, expressionless face the entire conversation, but now it was… softer? Their eyes didn’t quite hold the chill they once did and the corners of their mouth seemed to be turned up the tiniest bit. Firefly scrunched her eyeridges and locked eyes. Was it pity? Sadness? Understanding?

Firefly couldn’t tell. She broke from the gaze at the sound of hoofsteps coming back. Her eyes went back to her still-surprisingly lavish meal.

Bringing up a spoonful of oatmeal, she hummed a tiny hum at the sweet food and wondered if the extraordinary meal was some sort of tactic. Her first thought was that they’d set Spindle up with a nice meal to give her. Except they had to know Spindle had no idea she was even here. Either that or Spindle was an exceptional actress and a true mastermind.

Firefly snorted. As mean as it sounded, Spindle wasn’t even close to either of those things.

Her second thought, as she maneuvered some cheese toast around her fangs and chomped, was that they were buttering her up. Trying to make her think they were on her side and had her best interests at heart. But that was silly as well. What would it gain? A dropping of her guard? The only thing Firefly was waiting for was to try and convince the queen. Guarding herself was pointless, as there were but two outcomes.

Either Her Majesty allowed the relationship or… she didn’t. And there would be no convincing Firefly that Fine Roast wasn’t the right option. Queen Chrysalis had to know that.

She huffed. A small, wry smile grew across her face as a morbid thought crept into her mind. Perhaps she was overthinking. Maybe this was a prisoner’s last meal. She’d heard of those who were so far gone, so irredeemable, that death was the only choice. In Equestria, it was a myth. A legend among the Land of Second Chances.

In the hive? There was always a first for everything.

Shaking the thought free of her head, she popped the last bite of toast into her mouth and chewed it down. Firefly swallowed and turned her eyes to the love crystal. With the leftovers from her time with Roast nearly dried up, the fresh hunger she hadn’t felt in several long years was a stark reminder of how little the hive changelings got now. These weren’t even half of a normal meal from before she’d graduated training.

A sigh escaped her at the meager share and she apathetically took in a nibbling wisp.

And her world came to a tumbling halt.

She barely heard her own gasp. The rich, wonderful, familiar flavor flowed through her and her mind was instantly filled with thoughts of him. The love was muted, dulled, but it was unmistakably his and tasted far better than any other crystal she’d ever had.

After a long moment, she broke her gaze with the emptied crystal and looked past the bars. “This—this was one of…”

“What?” the guard that had scolded her asked. “You’ve never had one of your own before?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never needed it. Roast was always… enough. I knew they were different, but I had no idea they tasted like—like this.”

“Wait a second,” the guard within the cell butted in. “Your source was the reason those exist?”

Firefly glanced over at her bewildered look. “Uhh, yes? Were you not paying attention to the conversation?”

The changeling next to her pursed her lips and furrowed an eyeridge at the ceiling. “Uhm… I don’t think I zoned out. I don’t remember that part. But damn. I’d give the queen my inert left ovary if it meant we could get more.”

A deep inhale came from outside the cell and Firefly looked to see the first guard deadpanning at the other. Just as deep an exhale followed. “Vertex?”

“Yes, sir?” The nearby guard responded.

“For your own sake, please be quiet.”

“Y-yes, sir.”





Firefly laid back in the cell bed and traced her eyes along the lines of anti-magic runes. Or rather, that’s what she presumed they were. As harrowing a day that it was, she longed for Hoofington’s cells. At least there she’d only had to suffer half a day of boredom after the mind-numbing anxiety of being detained.

Here, she had no such luxury. Night after night, morning after morning, her only companion was the growing nothingness of the hive’s bureaucracy. Spindle’s obviously-staged visit was a wonderful detractor from the monotony of waiting for the queen’s decision. Except that had been hours ago. She considered asking if the guards had heard back about her request for a book, but with the last two responses of ‘we’ll look into it,’ Firefly doubted she’d get anything besides being labeled as an annoyance.

Halfway through tracing the center rune's incomprehensible squiggles, the faint clopping of hooves on carved stone reached her. She kept an ear pointed to the hall, but she couldn’t keep a tiny sigh from escaping. She hadn’t taken notice that day, but figured the prison must’ve been quite out of the way. Few and far between were the sounds of hoofsteps, and they’d usually pass by to some other destination.

The hoofsteps grew louder and her ears perked up as they seemed to resonate down the prison’s little corridor.

“Good afternoon, ma’am!” Firefly heard a guard say, along with the sound of shuffling armor.

“Afternoon. Open the door, please,” the apparently-important changeling replied. Keys jingling and a lock thunking followed a few seconds later. “Thank you.”

Firefly sat up and looked over to the two posted guards just as another walked into sight and faced her. A familiar scent of pheromones passed through her nose and she noticed the visitor had the same insignia as the high-ranked guard who led her down that first night. Firefly still appreciated them standing up for her and sparing her the indignity of being led to the prison on a leash.

“Hello, Firefly,” the familiar-yet-unknown guard said, “I trust your lunch was satisfactory?”

Firefly stood and shuffled in front of her. “Erm, hello.” Firefly rarely bothered much beyond a glance at whomever would address her, but most hardly did more than grunt at her about meal time. This changeling had at least earned a bit more respect. “Do you mean breakfast? Because I did appreciate the company this morning.”

The guard narrowed her eyes at Firefly for a short second before turning to another. “Are you serious? No caretaker has been down to provide a mid-day meal? That should have happened an hour ago!”

“Erm, no ma’am.” A posted guard shook his head. “Noling has been down since the fill-in cleaned the cell earlier.”

A few twitches graced the visitor’s eyes. “I… see. I’ll have to have a conversation with a particular advisor.” She turned back to Firefly. “I apologize. I would send someone to track down why your lunch has been delayed, but I’m afraid there’s little time for that. The queen is ready to see you.”

A heavy heat settled into her stomach. “I see. Should I, uhh, face the wall?”

“No. We will be escorting you as is. I trust you’ll behave yourself.” She stepped back and looked to another guard. “Unlock the cell.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard magicked a key into the door. A clunk and it swung open.

“Vespa, Vertex,” The high rank turned to each of the guards posted outside the cell, “take up the rear.” She faced Firefly again as they took their places. “Step out of the cell between myself and the other two.”

Firefly swallowed the lump rising in her throat and did as she was told. The guard walked towards the entrance and stopped at the barred door.

“Lieutenant Labrum,” Firefly’s escort called and the guard posted outside the prison turned. “Please open the door again. And, Labrum,” she said as the lieutenant began to do so. “Remain behind and wait for the caretaker. Instruct them to perform a full cleaning. After they’re finished, lock up everything and report back to your captain for further assignment.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Without another word, they continued out and down the main corridor. Despite the relatively slow trot, Firefly fought a losing battle to keep her heart calm. It had been so long since she’d been arrested and branded a traitor. So long since she’d been told the queen would decide her fate. So long had she been waiting for the chance to reunite with her love.

But what if Her Majesty said no? What would she do? What could she do?

The questions had been whispering, cloying, horrifying thoughts from that very first day. Even as she walked on to that final moment, she had no idea if there even was an answer. The very idea of losing everything terrified her and sent spike after spike of dread from the tip of her horn down to the pit of her stomach.

What if Queen Chrysalis refused? How could Firefly be expected to just move on to another source after this? Would they even let her? Or would they shove her into some corner to eke out a meager use from her broken heart?

Firefly tried to breathe deep, but she found the air wouldn’t stay inside.

What if she couldn’t even manage that? Everyling had to be productive. They couldn’t afford to support useless changelings. Would they send her away? They couldn’t. It would be too risky. And if she couldn’t be useful and she couldn’t be sent away, what options were there? The queen had to know. She had to know that Firefly wouldn’t—couldn’t—live without him. She had to. And if she knew…

They were going to kill her. 

She was going to die. Her eyes squeezed shut as tears built. Breaths came faster and faster. They wouldn’t stop.

She couldn’t die. Not yet. What would that do to Roast? What about their cafe? Or Spindle? Or Aura? No. No no no. No! She couldn’t die! She—

“Firefly!”

Firefly’s eyes snapped open and flicked to so many others. A dozen, two dozen eyes all focused on her. Changelings from nearby tunnels crowded around, staring, waiting for their chance.

“Firefly.” The lead guard gently cupped Firefly’s cheeks and turned Firefly to meet her eyes. “Breathe. You’re having a panic attack. It’s going to be okay, but you need to breathe.”

She managed a tiny shake of her head. Her tongue was made of lead. She felt her legs move back and away, but her rear hooves clacked against something hard, solid, immovable.

They were here for her. They were going to take her! She couldn’t!

The guard followed Firefly’s eyeline behind her. “Dammit. Everyone who isn’t one of my guards, leave.” Noling seemed to listen. “Get the buck out! Now!”

She had to get out. She had to. But she couldn’t. If she fled like the others, they’d get her. They’d kill her. But she had to get—

“Firefly.” She found the leader looking at her again. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Here. Sit down.” They turned to the four armored changelings. Weren’t there two? Why are they here? “Make sure noling else comes down this way. Direct them to another hall.”

Only then had Firefly noticed the hot tears spilling down her cheek. “P-puh… plea—”

“Hush now. You’re going to be okay.” She took Firefly’s hoof in her own and gently stroked it. “Focus on breathing. In… and out. In…” The hoof trailed up her fetlock, “and out.” And trailed back down.

Firefly tried, but her body didn’t want to listen. She shut her eyes tight. Her chest wouldn’t let her breathe right. It heaved and shuddered. “Please. Please… I don’t want to die.”

“Shhh.” The hoof holding hers gave a soft squeeze. “You’re not going to die. That’s not why you’re here.”

She shook her head and looked at the blurry changeling in front of her. “You’re going to take him. I can’t. I need him. He needs me.”

“Things are going to be okay. You have no idea how much time your queen has spent on you. You have no idea how much she cares for each of us. For you. She understands. You need to trust her.”

“How? H-how do you know?”

The guard sat back with a little grin and snorted. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Firefly shook her head.

“Collectors…” she rolled her eyes with a smile and a low, calm voice. “I swear, once you lot leave the hive, you forget everything about it.” She tapped her guard insignia. “This is a special rank. There’s only one of them.”

Firefly barely managed to stifle her gasp. “General?”

She nodded. “General Elytra, specifically. It’s alright, you’re not the first Equestria-based ‘ling to forget, and you won’t be the last. After all, it’s not as if there’s a grueling, multi-year training occupying your all’s minds before you’re thrown to another nation.

“As for how I know how much effort Queen Chrysalis has put into you?” she chuckled. “Well, the queen’s military and guard advisor usually likes to be kept up to date with those in her prison.”

“How, um, how much has she…?” Firefly felt her hoof be set back down.

“That’s something I imagine you can ask her.” General Elytra stood. “Do you think you’re ready?”

Firefly began to nod, but paused halfway through and shook her head. “Could I, maybe, have a couple more minutes?”

“Of course. I’ll be right here.” She trotted a meter away and stood against the same wall.

After a few seconds, Firefly said, “Um, General Elytra?”

“Hm?” She hummed with a gentle smile.

“Thank you.” Firefly bowed her head and gave what she hoped was a grateful look.

Elytra stepped closer and set a hoof on Firefly’s shoulder. “I can imagine what you’re going through. After all,” she put her hoof down and her voice lowered ever so slightly, “there’s a reason I was put in the guard.”

Firefly scrunched her brow. “What? What do you mean?”

“Perhaps I’ll tell you another time. This isn’t really the place for a history lesson.”

Firefly nodded and looked back to the floor. With a few more of her signature deep, calming breaths, she began to feel the anxiety drain from a roaring river to a trickling stream.

“I think I’m ready.” Firefly swallowed, before she shakily got to her hooves.

“Excellent. Guards! Return and take your positions.” General Elytra trotted back to the center of the hall and faced Firefly. “We’ll take it slow. If you need to stop, just speak up. Though, contrary to popular belief, the queen does actually have a schedule, and it’s not as empty as one might expect. Don’t feel bad, though.” A smirk spread across her face. “Her great majesty’s agenda could use a bit of a shakeup every now and then.”

Firefly smiled what felt like a weak little smile as the general began her slow walk. She tried her best to hide her emotions before taking her place behind the general. The group moved on with her in the middle and she tried to process what happened.

She’d never met General Elytra before, nor any other general, and this was not exactly what she would have expected. Rough, scarred, hardass, and scowling were more adjectives she’d instinctively thought a general would be. But gentle, caring, and compassionate? Those were far from her vision of a changeling military leader.

Thinking back to her pre-collector days, she’d only seen or heard Elytra’s name mentioned offhoofed a dozen or so times. Firefly couldn’t help but think there had been another general when she was in primary education, learning about the different castes and their leaders. How new was she? Advisors served for as long as they were useful and often were sent to be an educator after their time was up.

Or they were relegated to the short life of an elderly ‘ling if they’d reached that age.

As they turned downward into a vertical tunnel, Firefly’s mind began sifting through the last… she hummed quietly at the realization that she had no idea how long her panic had lasted.

Panic.

In the kitchen on that rainy day, the evening of her release, she learned that anxiety was an every-day thing for Aura. The poor mare was no stranger to panic attacks. They were something she had no control over. Now, Firefly had more sympathy for her than ever before.

No. Firefly gave a small shake of her head. I think I can call it empathy now. At least a tiny slice of it.

She did not envy her friend. Not at all. And as she thought about exactly who she was heading to see, she couldn’t help but hope that Aura was far, far away from her and the hive. As they exited onto the lowest level, the royal level, Firefly resolved to fight for Refined Aura as much as she would for Fine Roast. That wonderful mare didn’t deserve this fate.

Firefly began to wonder how many of the ponies in cocoons mere hundreds of meters away really did.

Before she could entertain what was certainly a slippery slope to actual treason and existential dread, a single set of doors emerged into view.

The throne room.

Firefly took a deep breath and only barely finished exhaling by the time they stopped in front of those looming double doors.

“Ma’am!” The pair of guards flanking either side saluted.

“Afternoon.” She returned the salute. “The queen is still inside?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s been silent since you left.”

General Elytra nodded. “Very good.” She turned to Firefly. “Wait here for a moment.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled open the doors and passed through. A brief glimpse of columns and torches were all Firefly could make out before her sight was cut off.

Firefly closed her eyes and breathed. She could only hope what the general had told her was true. She had to believe it. It was the only thing keeping her afloat.

Fine Roast crossed her mind. She tried to entertain thoughts of him, of what she’d say to convince the queen. Convince her of the virtue of their relationship, but they were all blurry and indistinct. All the arguments she’d prepared since leaving Hoofington had drifted well beyond her grasp.

The doors opened again and out stepped General Elytra. She closed them and faced Firefly. “Do you remember your royal etiquette?”

“I think so? Though, it has been a while.”

“Right. It’s simple.” Elytra nodded. “Walk to the dais, give a single bow, and wait for her to address you. She’s a little particular about being called ‘your majesty’ too much, so try to limit the honorifics a bit. Use ma’am if you feel you must.” Elytra began to turn before she paused and glanced back. “Oh, and please don’t make the nymphish mistake of calling her ‘highness.’ She’s not a princess.”

“I at least know that one. But, thank you.”

“Right.” Elytra nodded again and reached a hoof to one of the doors. “A guard inside will tell you to enter shortly.”

Firefly watched her enter and managed a single more calming breath before the throne room reopened a few moments later.

“Firefly?” A guard’s eyes landed on her. “The queen will see you now.”

She steeled herself as best as she could, then entered through the held door.

It had been many years since she’d been in the throne room; not since she was a nymph on what ponies might have called a ‘field trip.’ It was as bright as she remembered, a far cry from the prison or its halls. Along the floor, leading directly to the dais, were intricate grooves.

Her eyes drew further along and alighted on the throne. Seated on it was Queen Chrysalis, the royal gaze reflected back on Firefly. She averted her eyes and looked to the queen’s right. One step down the dais stood General Elytra. Firefly nearly sent a smile to her, but caught it before she could make a fool of herself.

Along the wall further left was a changeling at a small desk with a quill and paper. The scribe, Firefly assumed. Trailing her eyes to the queen’s left found another changeling, similarly a single step down.

Firefly’s nose nearly crinkled as she realized the queen’s pheromones were the only ones she could smell. She felt a bout of self-consciousness flush over her at her own active glands. Should I have shut them? General Elytra didn’t say anything, so I hope not?

Finally, her musings were cut short as she reached the dais’s bottom step. Firefly bowed low, and raised back up to meet her queen’s gaze.

“Firefly,” Queen Chrysalis began. “Before we begin, I understand there was a small issue on the way here.”

“Yes, your majesty. I apologize for the—”

“I am not concerned with what scene may have been caused, nor any ‘disturbance’ to others in the hive. Firefly,” Chrysalis said, her voice taking a far softer tone than Firefly would have ever expected, “are you okay?”

Firefly stood and stared. During the visit to the throne room as a nymph, she and many other nymphs had met the queen. It was the last and only time she’d been in direct company of the royal changeling and she distinctly remembered it as what she envisioned a stereotypical royal interaction as. The queen had given a summary of her duties and answered a few questions.

Never had Firefly thought of her as ‘motherly.’

“Firefly?”

“Oh! Uh, yes, your majesty. General Elytra was very kind and allowed me to recover.” Half a second later she remembered her manners. “And, uhm, thank you for asking.” Firefly gave a bow of her head.

“I’m glad. If there is something I care about above all else, it is the wellbeing of my changelings. There will come a point where I will have to return you to your duties and be unable to offer you much. Until then, for today, please do not feel afraid to take a moment should such a thing occur again.”

Firefly nodded and tried desperately to keep confusion from leaking out of her heart. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Queen Chrysalis nodded and stayed silent for a few, long seconds. “Now, to begin with, these are… quite the set of circumstances that have led you before me. Some of these have irked me greatly. I shall let my advisor, Odonata, say his piece before I continue.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” the changeling to the queen’s left said as he stepped forward. “Firefly, my name is Odonata, and I am the queen’s infiltrator advisor.”

It took a great deal of effort to keep the worry from painting Firefly’s face.

“It had come to my attention that parts of this situation were… mishandled. I’d like to first apologize for the way one of my infiltrators behaved and I would like to thank you for mentioning it this morning. The changeling by the name of ‘Coxa’ is currently out on a mission, but is being recalled due to his exceptionally inappropriate treatment and use of force against you.”

“Odonata,” Queen Chrysalis said. “Do not mince words.”

A tiny huff escaped the advisor and he offered a small bow of his head to Queen Chrysalis. “Of course, my queen. Apologies. What I mean to say, Firefly, is I apologize that he hit you—punched you—in your cheek. He had no authority nor reason to do so, nor did he have any right to treat you as a common pony pet on your travels here. When he returns, he will be given appropriate punishment and reeducation. Again, I apologize for what you’ve been subjected to.”

Silence reigned for several seconds before the queen spoke again, “Thank you, Odonata. You may leave.”

“Of course, majesty.” Odonata turned to Queen Chrysalis, bowed, and stepped away from the throne to a door near the back.

Firefly was unsure what to feel. The queen forcing an apology to her felt… off. Why was she being treated so well? There was nothing to gain from a young collector’s favor. Why the show if she was going to have her husband returned to her? Why the mercy if she wasn’t? Her eyes wanted to narrow, her brow offered twitches into a furrow, but as the door clicked behind Odonata and the queen’s gaze alighted on her once more, she stuffed the feelings deep and away.

“We are too few and spread far too thin to allow that kind of nonsense infighting,” The queen puffed a great lungful from her nostrils. Firefly couldn’t help but notice as her tail twitched back and forth on the throne before settling. “I hold my advisors to a higher standard and they ought to know to keep their changelings from committing such ridiculousness.”

Queen Chrysalis’s face softened as she continued, “Discounting what you have done for the moment, right or wrong, I do apologize for what you went through as you were brought back. Odonata and my other advisors have been informed with no uncertainty that acts such as this are to be reserved for escalation of force, not simple disagreements.”

Firefly felt there was little to do but nod. “Um, thank you, your majesty.”

Queen Chrysalis offered a nod in return. “Now, to return to the beginning, and why we are here at all, it is quite the set of circumstances that led you to my throne today. Your name has been traded a great deal between myself and my advisors. There were many calls for action, but when I heard the first report from the infiltrator team assigned to you, I knew there was something… off. That something didn’t quite fit. Though, you already know what it was, as it was you who lived it.”

A breath forced its way down Firefly’s throat as she tried to stay calm and under control. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Except… even after the survey finished and I was given the full report, I wasn’t satisfied. For a ruler of a species such as us, do you know what the most important resource is?”

Firefly’s eyeridges did furrow this time and she thought. Immediately one pony, a friend, came to mind. “Secrecy?”

A small smile came to the queen’s face and she shook her head. “Not quite, though that is important, to a degree. No, for a changeling queen, information is key. Or rather, accurate information.”

Firefly couldn’t help but wonder if that was why everything went to tartarus in Canterlot all those months back. If she were a more bold and brash ‘ling, perhaps she would have asked. But her focus had to be kept on one thing, and one thing only.

“By the way, did you enjoy your breakfast this morning?”

“Erm, yes, I did. Thank you?” Firefly winced at her own awkwardness.

Chrysalis gave a short laugh. “You’re welcome. I thought you may appreciate it after the last eight days stuck in that cell. I have to say, it was quite interesting to see such camaraderie between collectors. It’s very clear that Spindle cares for you a great deal.”

Firefly nodded. “Yes, your majesty, she and I were quite close back… in…” Firefly fought to keep her eyes from growing wide. See? She could only stare and begin to blush as a small smirk formed on Chrysalis’s lips. Oh, buck me.

“Indeed, as you’ve likely come to the conclusion. Information is key. I wanted to see and hear for myself, though I didn’t quite expect it would bear the fruit it did. This morning was more than enough confirmation for the ‘crony’ that I am. And thus here you are.”

A chill went through Firefly’s back and into her legs. She couldn’t decide if apologizing was expected. She forced her hooves still and decided to instead ask, “Confirmation, your majesty?”

“Before I inherited this hive from my mother, would you care to guess what my very first profession, my first caste, was?

Firefly fought down the frustration at the lack of answer and constant run-around. Why does it matter?! Am I going to receive a judgment, or my husband?! She settled for a single grind of her teeth.

“I’m… not sure. Infiltrator?”

The queen huffed with a wry smile. “While I did later become an infiltrator to even out my skillset, no. It was not my first.”

She narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “You were a collector?”

Chrysalis nodded. “Indeed I was. Over a century and a half ago, I stepped my first hoof into Equestria. I believe you’d find this amusing. Nearly seven years ago, in Manehatten, you replaced your very first source’s wife, did you not?”

“I did, yes.”

Chrysalis nodded. “As did I. We were both quite the foolish collectors, thinking we could take on the world.”

Firefly nearly shook her head. She may have been a little too cocky, but she never thought she could do any such thing. Young and stupid is what she thought of her old self, but not self-aggrandizing.

“Technology may have been different then,” Chrysalis continued, “but ponies remained much the same. Changelings, too, though our tactics did change and improve over the years. Similarly, my source held little difference from ponies today. She was a beautiful mare and a very talented musician, as was her wife. It was truly a shame the day she never got to play again.”

Chrysalis paused and stared beyond Firefly for a long moment. Right as Firefly was tempted to check what was behind her, the queen’s eyes drifted to Firefly’s again.

“As collectors,” Chrysalis’s voice became shockingly somber and Firefly reared her head back the barest centimeter, “there is one difference between you and I. Do you know what it was?”

Firefly could only shake her head.

“There is a pony saying that dates back as far as the first waxing poet: you never forget your first love.”

Silence filled the room and no amount of restraint could have kept Firefly’s eyes from shooting wide before narrowing at the mare seated above her. It couldn’t be. Queen Chrysalis knew what it was like! She knew! And yet she still had Firefly put through Tartarus and back. “Wait. How is that any different? If you were there this morning, then you know how I feel towards Fine Roast.”

A frown formed on the queen’s face. Firefly’s eyes were drawn to the queen’s right as General Elytra adjusted her hooves. Firefly found an eyeridge raised in disappointment and yet couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Firefly,” Chrysalis hardened her voice, “only with the circumstances we find ourselves in do I allow your tone to pass. Do not forget your place.”

A huff and a grinding of teeth was held back before Firefly stoppered her emotions. “Yes, your majesty. I apologize.”

“We are different not because we both fell in love.” Chrysalis nearly growled. “We are different because of what happened after. My mother, my queen at the time, had yet to add the lesson you collectors now laugh and scoff at. It was taken for granted at the time, and for many centuries before, that changelings did not lay with ponies. Ponies were beneath us. They were food. We thought our hearts needed no guarding. Yet, much like ponies, we can do little when, unguarded, they are stolen.

“We are different not because we both hid how we felt nor because we had our hearts taken. We are different because when I revealed myself to Crystal Viola, she had the good sense to hate me. When she tried to flee, I subdued her. I placed her into a cocoon and she lived the rest of her days feeding the hive.”

Firefly couldn’t keep the scowl off her face. Hateful words flew through her mind and threatened to spill from her. She tried. She tried so very hard to stay silent, but her wounded heart refused.

“So since you couldn’t have yours, I can’t have mine either.”

“This is who we are, Firefly!” Chrysalis growled out and slammed a hoof down. “This is who we are forced to be, the way it must be!”

Firefly took the first step up to the throne. “It’s only that way because you decided it would be! I earned my love! I earned his love! And it is the best love this whole damn hive has ever seen! How bucking selfish are you to dare throw—”

“Yes,” Chrysalis stood and stomped down the platform, step by step, “I do dare. I dare, not because of the incredible love, but because you so naively return it.” She lowered her neck and looked straight into Firefly’s eyes. “You have no idea of the dangers you’re playing with.” Her horn lit, “Get off my dais.”

Firefly fell backwards and landed hard on her flanks. She shot to her hooves and tried to speak, but found her mouth wouldn’t open.

Chrysalis stood tall, her horn still lit. “Guards. Leave. Except for Elytra.” After a moment of shuffling and the throne room door closing behind Firefly, pity slowly won over the anger on Chrysalis’s face. “What I am about to say to you does not leave this room.” She glanced over her right shoulder. “The same for you, General Elytra. And Alary—” the changeling at the writing desk looked up “—this is not to be recorded.”

Firefly felt the pressure on her jaw release. Chrysalis huffed and seated herself back on the throne. “Long ago, the gryphons made themselves enemies of the ponies. Changelings remained hidden throughout the conflict, both in the hive and in plain sight. War, though…” The corner of Chrysalis’ mouth curved upward. “it has an amusing way of drawing a species together. It’s no longer about what pony might steal your crop or hijack a wagon, it’s about keeping those clawed bastards from doing the exact same.”

Firefly felt the anger diffuse to a simmer. In the back of her mind, she wondered why Chrysalis thought she could trust her.

“Ponies were far more lonely then, their relationships far less stable. Thus, those relations developed far faster. Those days made for easy pickings. Love flowed in the hive and hunger was a mere memory. The changeling species thrived.”

Chrysalis’s face turned dark. “But that made us just as complacent.

“It is unknown what sparked the disaster that followed. What is known is that the condition is… contagious. It spreads not through virus or bacteria, but through desire. It promises happiness and prosperity and other changelings hardly need convincing to join.”

Firefly’s eyeridges furrowed and her head pulled back in incredulity. How had she never heard of this? If it was such a big deal, why wasn’t it covered in training?

“Collectors began to love their ponies. They gave the love they’d collected back to those from whom they had taken. The records say it happened quickly. Across Equestria, within a week, over half its collectors succumbed. Within two weeks, half of the hive. Then three quarters. Their natural forms suddenly changed. No longer were their shells black and their eyes blue.

“No. They became a rainbow of chitin and ocelli and wings. Every one of them unique, just like the ponies they preyed upon. Except… they no longer hungered. Love was no longer necessary nor even an option. They could change into ponies and be among them without consequence. Without need of theft. For the first time since changelings were created, prosperity seemed to be on the horizon.”

Chrysalis’s darkness turned into a deep frown. “And they all died of starvation within a month.”

“What?” Firefly took a step back. “How? How have none of us heard this?”

“The ones dubbed ‘The Loveless’ were buried along with the very idea. Those who survived knew better and the queen recorded and preserved. Each passed it down from queen to princess, much like my mother did for me. Much like I shall do for my own.

"Ponies were no wiser and mourned. They watched their friends and loved ones grow progressively weaker, before one day dropping dead. The disease is contagious and spreads before it can be contained. Its promise of a hunger free life is too alluring for so many. Were the lesson to be kept, and its meaning ever twisted or forgotten, our hive may end as we know it."

Chrysalis's head rose, regal and imposing. “And so changelings changed once again. No longer could we be allowed to love. Love, for us, is nothing but a meal, to be consumed, but not experienced. Our cursed creators made sure of that.”

She stood from her throne. “You and I are different not because Crystal Viola hated me and Fine Roast loved you, but because I was lucky and you… were not.”

Not… not lucky? What does she— Ice ran down her back. She was. She really was going to— Firefly took a step back, then another. As she turned to flee, she felt her hooves seize as Chrysalis’s horn lit. “No!” Firefly shook her head and willed with all her might to leave the ground. “I can’t believe that! I’ve loved Roast for months. Nothing happened! I didn’t change, I still produce and need love!”

Chrysalis slowly stepped down each step. “I do not know how or why you have yet to trigger the transformation, nor why I did not. But for the sake of the hive, you cannot be allowed what you desire.” She came to a stop in front of Firefly and knelt down. “None of us can.”



Tears poured down Firefly’s cheeks. She looked away, to the general she had so trusted. The general that had betrayed her. But on the other mare’s face, Firefly found only confusion and concern.

“I do this, Firefly,” Chrysalis said, “not because I hate you, nor because you have what I could not, but because I love you. A changeling queen is nothing without her children and any queen that does not do all she can to protect them does not deserve the title.” She leaned down and rubbed her cheek along Firefly’s.

“Please. Don’t take him! Please!”

Chrysalis drew back and closed her eyes. “I know your pain… and I am truly sorry.” Eyes still shut, she tilted her head forward and Firefly felt the clack of the queen’s horn against hers.

A flash of green filled her vision and everything went dark.
> Act II ~ Chapter 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A pulsing pain greeted her from the darkness and a groan of displeasure rumbled from deep within her chest. Her eyes peeled open to a dimmed room. As she shifted to sit up on the soft bed, a deep, throbbing pain cut through her head.

“Ow. Ughh.” Firefly brought up a hoof to rub against her chitin. She yelped in pain as she touched a hardened bump on her head. Gritting her teeth, she stayed stock still until the pain had faded to a dull throb. “Oww. Buck. Where… what?”

As if to answer her call, a door to her side opened.

“Ah, wonderful! You’re awake,” an almost feminine-sounding changeling trotted up to the bed. “My name is Vannus, and yes, you may laugh.”

Firefly raised an eyeridge before gasping in pain. “Ow. Again.” She looked back to… whoever it was. “I don’t get it.”

“Huh. That usually gets patients. Well, a few of them, anyway.” They shrugged. “Anyway, I know it’s not easy to tell with the octave of my voice and my stature, but I go by he and him. I’ll be your physician until you leave. You still need more rest and a few extra helpings of love, but I imagine we’ll have little issue sending you on your way.”

“Uh… okay?” Firefly took a deep breath as her mind began to clear. “Vannus, why am I here? What happened?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his chin. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Firefly resisted the urge to rub at her aching head again. “I think I was having a… conversation isn’t the right word. I was in the throne room and Queen Chrysalis was telling me about—”

About things I shouldn’t talk about. She furrowed her brow at her bed. The Loveless. Could that have really happened to me? How soon was I from transforming? Am I still in danger? She thought of her old source and the love he—

A scream tore its way from her throat. White-hot knifes of pain surged through her mind and she felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

“Hey, hey, take it easy!” Firefly felt Vannus gently lay her back down on the bed. “General Elytra said you passed out and hit your head on some stone. It seems thinking too hard might be painful for a little while, but I believe your prognosis is more than good enough for a full recovery.”

The fiery pain began to smolder down to embers and she relaxed the jaw she hadn’t realized she’d been clenching. “How, uh,” she grunted through the lingering throbs, “h-how long?”

“If you continue to push yourself as you did, you should expect more pain over the next twelve hours. After that, the pain should diminish over the next couple days until it’s barely a prick. That might stick around for two or so weeks, though.”

Firefly took several deep breaths and focused on the other changeling until he became more than a blurry blob. “Trying to think is pushing myself?”

“In this case, it is.” He mirrored gesturing to his head where her injury was. “You took quite a spill there yesterday.”

“Yeah, but it’s, what, a concussion?” She narrowed a single eye at him. “I thought concussions made it hard to think, not hurt to think.”

“Usually you’d be correct, but sometimes, if you hit your head just right, or wrong, all kinds of things can come of it.” Vannus shrugged. “This happens to be one of them.”

Firefly sighed and laid her head back. “Okay, fine. I won’t think too hard.” She leveled an eye at him. “Even though you were the one that asked me to.”

“Yes, I apologize, Firefly.” He gave a quick bow of his head. “I did not know that would be one of your symptoms. Please, do try to rest. I’ll have a nurse sent in soon with food and love. And some painkillers.” He turned and headed back to the hall.

Once the door closed, Firefly let out a deep sigh. Asking her not to think about why she was injured and in the medical ward was like asking her to forgo love for weeks on end. She guessed it was possible she’d merely passed out, but that didn’t make much sense. Even when she was mid-panic attack, she hadn’t felt anywhere close to that. Maybe panic attacks didn’t cause someone to faint?

If she was still a Hoofington collector, she’d have thought to ask Aura. Unfortunately, she wasn’t. The thought of Hoofington brought a purse to her lips and Firefly wondered what town she’d be assigned to next. As much as she’d miss Skitter, their parting disagreement would be too awkward to dance around.

It’s not as if she meant for Roast to find out what she was.

She shrugged. Sure, she should have said something earlier and, sure, she probably should have tried a little harder to not let Sweet Leaf’s emotions get tangled with… her own…

The lancing pain slowly crept back in. Her teeth hissed as she sucked in through a clenched jaw. It didn’t last nearly as long before dull throbbing replaced it yet again.

Well, dammit. Vannus was right. What am I supposed to do until I get better? It’s not like I have any sudoku or Kenken or even those cursed logic grid puzzles he—

“Nggghh! Buuuck!” She clasped her head in her hooves and waited for the spike to fade. “Whyyyyyy?!”

The door opened again and Firefly barely managed to peek an eye through a hole in her foreleg.

“Oh! Are you alright?” A definitely feminine-sounding changeling trotted up to her. On her back draped a pair of saddlebags sporting a red cross.

“Yeah. Just…” Firefly lowered her hooves and laid back down, “Concussion. Headache.”

“Right. The physician mentioned something about that. When you’re ready, I’ll sit you up so I can take your vitals. Then we can get some painkillers and food into you.”

“Okay.” She took a moment, and soon the now-familiar pulsing slowly replaced her migraine. “Alright. I… think I’m good.” She began to pull herself up, but felt a hoof at her chest.

“No, no, sweetie. This is a medical bed.”

Firefly half squinted in confusion before the nurse started pumping a hoof. Each one raised the bed’s back a small amount until she was sitting upright.

“Huh. How the heck did the hive manage to snag one of these?”

“No idea. We’ve had them since before I came back from training.” The nurse shrugged as she donned a stethoscope. “Quiet for a second, if you could. I need to get your heart rate.”

Firefly nodded and shivered as the changeling-friendly curved tip of the stethoscope slid into a hole in her foreleg. The cool, unsettling sensation quickly passed and the nurse pulled it out. 

“What do you mean you came back from training?” Firefly asked. “They sent you all somewhere?”

She nodded and magicked out a little thermometer. “Mhm! Cold thing going into your ear.” Firefly winced and tried not to flick her ear as the mare continued. “Equestria might be full of evil, blood-sucking ponies, but they sure do know their medicine. Even if we have to adapt it to changeling physiology.”

Firefly gave her a side squint. “Ponies… don’t suck blood. And aren’t evil.”

The nurse laughed and pulled the thermometer out. “Oh, sweetie! I spent seven years with them. I know that.”

“Ah. Righ—”

“They suck hemolymph.”

Firefly covered her giggle with a hoof. “Did they teach you these bedside manners too?”

She snorted. “They’re ponies. What do you think? Open wide.” A little flashlight levitated out of her saddlebags and shined into Firefly’s open mouth. “Looks good, no obvious signs of hypoxia. You can close.

“Anyway,” the nurse continued as she wheeled over a tray table and began pulling out food, drink, and a crystal from her bags. “Advisor Tergum doesn’t require us to be polite. Though, if I were already feeling like trod horseapples, I don’t think I’d like it much if someling came in, roughed me up for my vitals, threw some food at me, and left.” 

“That’s quite a… mature, or maybe Pony way? I dunno, it’s a way of looking at things for sure.” Firefly looked down to her tray and found yet another meal similar to all her breakfasts before Spindle came along.

“Something wrong?”

Firefly hummed. “I, uh, guess I expected something else?”

Her nurse snorted again. “You and me both. We’ve been told we’re about to receive a shipment of new stock for the past month, but I’m betting they lost it.”

“That’s… disappointing.” Firefly sighed and took a bite of fried oatcakes.

“Mhm. You’re a collector though, right? I bet you’ll be out of here and back to fine Equestrian cuisine real soon. Any idea where you’re going next?”

Firefly raised an eyeridge, her good one, at the mare, but shook her head. “Nope. Before I could find that out, I had a fight with some stairs, apparently.” Not exactly the truth, but if I’m still alive, then the queen must have seen fit for me to continue as a collector, right?

“Well, hopefully it’s somewhere fun.” She let out a wistful sigh. “I know I miss it out there.”

“Hmm?” Firefly paused mid chew before swallowing. “I imagine you’ve been here for a few years, at least. Couldn’t you ask to try for another caste? We always need more collectors, and you’ve already been in Equestria.”

Her nurse shook her head. “Afraid not. I’ve been a nurse for four years. Not only do we have a ten year commitment to the caste, but we’re not allowed to go back for more medical training either. Equestria is really strict on their continuing education and proof of practice. We can’t say where we’ve been practicing at, since the hive’s not exactly Equestrian Board certified. I’d have to start over and the hive is not about to let us waste that much time.”

“Ah,” Firefly said. “Well, I’m sure the collectors will still be around in another six years. With your attitude, you’d fit right in.”

She nodded. “I appreciate that. Though, I do have other duties to see to. I’ll come back to check on you in a couple hours. Once you’re done with the tray, feel free to push it aside. If you need anything in the meantime, there’s a button by your bed that’ll ring at our station.”

“Okay.” Firefly smiled and nodded. “It was nice talking to you. Almost felt like I was back in Equestria for a bit.” 

The nurse offered a weak smile before walking back out the door.

That last thought felt strange to Firefly. She definitely wanted to go back to Equestria, much for the same reasons as the nurse. But going back felt… empty, somehow. The odd feeling made her brow crease.

But, yet again, her thoughts ground to a halt as the fiery stabs returned anew. “R-right, right. No thinking.” Her eyes clenched shut and she waited out the pains.

Soon enough, they passed and Firefly finished her bland, boring meal. She swallowed down her pills from a tiny cup, then eyed the last thing on her tray. The crystal. Its purple glow was enveloped by her green magic as she brought it up to her eyes.

For a reason she couldn’t place, it made her nervous.

She levitated it back up and drew in a bit of love. The anxiety drained to nothing at the taste of normal, everyday, stolen love. It made her a little sad, though the exact reason for missing out on the wonderful flavor of a dense crystal didn’t seem to ring the right bell. Though, she made sure to stuff those thoughts away before her brain decided to punish her again. Once the thing was dull and drained, she set it back on the table and pushed it away.

So, if I can’t think without being assaulted by my own mind, what can I do? And… wait. Aren’t I thinking now? She paused, blinked, and somehow didn’t have an aneurysm when she realized she was actually waiting for a response. A deep sigh left her and she wished she had a mirror for the half-lidded glare of disappointment she held for herself.

Then, her ears perked up as she recalled the hive’s morale library. Plenty of games and books could be found there.

She clicked the help button and waited.





The book slammed shut.

“Daring Do is dumb,” Firefly huffed. “What mare in her right mind would think it’s a good idea to go traipsing through the middle of a dangerous jungle? Just let them have their magical mcguffin! It’s not like she wasn’t trying to steal it too! Hmph.”

She tossed the book to the end of the bed. The thought of kicking it off was interrupted by her room’s door opening.

“Daring Do, huh?” By the smell of his pheromones, it was Vannus. “I had a similar reaction, except it was when I found out the stories are real.”

“Uhh, what?” Firefly traded glances between the book and her physician. “No, they aren’t. Those are insane. The real world doesn’t work like that. There’s no way ancient temples could last that long without crumbling. And why in Chrysalis’s name would their builders store super-magical artifacts ripe for the taking?!” She crossed her hooves. “No.”

Vannus rolled his eyes and shifted into a replica of the adventurous mare herself. “You live in a world where a species like us requires love, and can change into nearly any living creature. Which includes the fluffy, friendship monsters known as ponies… and Daring Do existing is where you draw the line?”

He changed back and she huffed. “Well, how do you even know?”

A smirk crossed his face. “Changelings are like ponies in a few ways. Infiltrators say all kinds of things when they have enough narcotics in them.”

“And you think they weren’t telling you some delusional nonsense when they were in an obviously delusional state?”

“Does it matter? Daring Do or Average Pony Number Thirty-Seven, they’re all equally as infuriating.”

The word gave her pause and she sent him an odd look. “Infuriating? The nurse said she had to train in Equestria, so I’m guessing you did too. Even after all those years, you never grew to like it?”

Vannus shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. Outside of the ten-year cram session they call ‘medical school,’ the food was fantastic and all the things to do were great fun. But the ponies themselves? If we didn’t have to subsist off their droppings, I’d say the world would be better off without.”

“What do you mean? I’ve spent almost a decade with them and I think they’re fine. A different culture, sure, but nothing I can see worth the vitriol.”

“Okay, how about this.” Vannus tilted his head and gave her a placating little smile. “Guess how many non-ponies were studying at the university I went to.”

She would have raised an eyeridge if it didn’t hurt so much. “I… don’t know? A dozen?”

Firefly nearly jumped at his bark of laughter. “Try more like one. A gryphon exchange student.” The amusement on his face died to a deadpan. “A cultural test designed to fail. Ponies are the very definition of xenophobes. They want nothing to do with anyone but themselves. Even then, they squabble amongst each other over inane things, like the appendages they have! Wings, horns, neither. I tolerate them because we need them, not because they deserve it.”

A frown formed on Firefly’s face. There was more to it than that. There had to be. Except, as she thought about it, she realized the cafe had very few species except for ponies. The most common was a gryphon every couple of months; the same as his supposed exchange student. Maybe he did have a point.

But, at least Roast hadn’t been like that… right?

“Tangent aside,” Vannus waved a hoof, “how are you feeling?”

Firefly decided to shelve the thoughts for later. She sighed. “Fine, I suppose. I’d say it’s been a while since I’ve been cooped up in a room and forced to lay on a bed for hours on end, but that’s pretty much all I’ve been doing for the past couple weeks.”

“Ah, right. General Elytra mentioned something about that. She also told me to pass on that you should probably keep your being in prison a bit… under the table.”

“What? Why?”

Vannus shrugged. “She said ‘she’ll know why.’”

She opened her mouth but clicked it shut after a moment. “Yeah, alright.”

“And how are the migraines? Any better?”

Firefly huffed again, squinted, and jabbed a hoof at him. “I’ll have you know, you saying, ‘oh, Firefly, just don’t think about anything and you’ll be fine,’ is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard,” she mocked, though his tone being a mere few keys lower than hers made it fall a bit flat.

He laughed. “I don’t remember saying quite that, but I also can’t say I envy you. I take that to mean you’re feeling a little better?”

“I suppose so. It’s been a few hours since I had any big pains, but the book may have been helping with that.”

“Well, if you ever see Daring Do, you should thank her.”

Firefly rolled her eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Regardless, I am deeming you fit for discharge. I’ll have the nurse come back and get you ready. Make sure to come back tomorrow or the day after to remove that resin too.” He took a step away, but paused. “Oh, I’ve been told to pass on that, after a night in your living quarters, you’re to go see your caste’s advisor. They’ll have your next assignment for you.”

“Okay, can do. Thanks!”

“Mhm!” He gave her a smile before turning away.

Firefly watched him go. Her eyes were drawn down as his tail flicked from one side, then back to the other.

Huh? Oh. Well, stallion it is, then.





A loud alarm jolted Firefly from her strange, already-fleeting dream. Something about an indigo pony giving her and some others a silly speech. She blearily lifted her head from the carved stone bowl of a bed and offered a particularly rude wing gesture at the wooden door. Her brain almost reminded her that it didn’t work without feathers, but she ignored it. She laid back down and closed her eyes as the buzzing grew quieter.

Naught but a second of unconsciousness later and the irritating sound returned.

“Bucking…! Fine!” she grumbled and stood. She hated the hive. It sucked. It had alarm ‘lings that patrolled sleeping quarters three times. And it had no coffee! “I hate everything.”

Firefly grunted and stepped out of the sleeping cubby inside the tiny space she’d been assigned. She sat at the little personal table before flopping her head down. Little shelves lay above, empty from the very short time she’d been back and hopefully would remain so.

She sighed long and deep. How had she ever lived this life before? There was nothing to it. Wake up, do hygiene, eat, go to training, go do ‘morale’ stuff, go to sleep, and repeat. Knowing what else the world had to offer, it was mind-numbing to be back. At least in the prison she’d been waiting for something to happen. And now…

Her ears flicked up as she remembered that she technically wasn’t back. She had an advisor to see. She stretched and groaned before standing.

As she turned towards the door, her eyes flicked to the ‘multi-purpose’ space on the other side of the little room. She huffed in amusement at the rolled-up mat and that she found herself mature enough not to blush at it anymore.

Most changelings had needs as much as ponies did, after all, and their sleeping cubbies weren’t exactly conducive to the act. She hummed and thought maybe she could find someling to scratch the itch with before she left. Her source was no longer around to do it for her, after all. If it happened, it happened, she shrugged.

Though, she waffled back and forth on whether it was really worth it. She’d grown to love the cuddles and bits of play beforehoof that she’d do with…

“Ngghh!” Her hoof went to her head again. The stabbing needles returned, though far more dull than before. They calmed down much sooner than the day before and took with them the last vestiges of sleep her brain held.

As she put her hoof back down, something felt strange. A niggling sensation that she was missing something. She plopped her hindquarters back down. Why didn’t the pains come more often? As creatures who thrived off deception, many thoughts and feelings stayed within and cultivated themselves in her head. Yet the migraines seemed to come and go as they pleased.

A little growl escaped her lips. What caused it this time? A moment ago I stretched and thought about enjoying the time I’d spent with— She winced again before her eyes shot open through the pain. No way. Not possible. How can a concussion discriminate between thoughts?

The last couple times had been about him, too. In fact, she realized with a chill, most of them had. Something strange was going on. What if it wasn’t just a simple concussion? What if something had gone wrong in her head while she was unconscious?

She took a signature deep breath, held, and released. Her physician had said the collector advisor had an assignment for her. Maybe he also knew something? She nodded and stood. The sooner she could see him, the better.

A visit to the quartermaster for hygienic supplies, then a quick trip to the — cold — communal washroom later, and she was on her way.

Firefly headed past the gymnasium and all its expected sounds and took a tunnel to the second lowest level. A few turns down some halls and she found herself in front of the collector advisor’s door. She steadied herself before she raised a hoof and knocked twice.

Seconds passed. Then half a minute. She furrowed her brows, but winced as a tiny stab of pain was sent from the resin-covered injury on her head. Maybe Calypter’s in there with Advisor Arista? Is Calypter even the advisor’s assistant still?

She shrugged and knocked another two times, a bit harder. A couple dozen seconds and the door opened, revealing a changeling with a raised eyeridge and the door handle in hoof.

“I thought I heard knocking. Most daytime ‘lings are at breakfast, including my assistant. Is there a reason you’re not?”

Firefly’s ears pinned back against her head and she did happen to note just then that her stomach was feeling rather empty. “Uh, I guess I kinda forgot?” She felt an embarrassed wince come across her face. “Sorry?”

The changeling chuckled. “You are very much not a hive ‘ling. Between that and the head bump, I’m assuming you’re Firefly.”

She nodded. “I was told to stop by and see Advisor Arista first thing. Are, uh, is that you?”

He grinned. “That is indeed me. I suppose since you’re already here, we can take care of things now.” Arista stepped back from the door and waved a hoof inside. “Come on in.”

She stepped in and he shut the door behind her.

“Let’s go to my office.” Arista walked to the left of his assistant’s desk and through the door on the far wall. “We have quite the interesting assignment for you.”

Firefly followed him in and spotted a massive map of Equestria on the back wall. Dozens of pins speckled the thing, many grouped together, along with a plethora of notes.

“Shut the door behind you, if you would. Then feel free to take a seat.” He walked to his spot behind the desk.

Firefly idly did as she was asked and as she sat down in front of him, her eyes were immediately drawn to Hoofington on the map. There she found four pins and two notes, too small to read. She felt a strange sense of relief at what she assumed were four changeling pins.

Of course they didn’t replace you yet. It’s only been two weeks.

“Hoofington,” Arista said and drew her eyes down to his. “What a place. A moderate-sized city, filled with plenty of places to visit. Restaurants to eat at. Cafes to frequent.”

Her eyes narrowed before she could catch them. “Yes, it was… quite the city. Sad to have to leave it. I liked being a barista.”

“I can imagine. There was always a sense of disappointment when I would have to move on from my sources.” A wistful smile came across his face. “Yours, though, I’d imagine was a bit more than mere disappointment.”

Firefly shrugged, even though anxiety filled her over what all this meant. “I mean, it wasn’t great, but collectors have to move on sometime, right?”

“True, true. Such a loss, though. Fine Roast’s love will surely be missed here at the hive, and I’m sure your returned feelings may have made it all the more.”

“Yeah, there’s not… much…” She winced as that familiar pain deep in her head jabbed at her once again. “Ow. Sorry. My concussion still flares up every now and then.”

“I understand,” Arista said softly. “Take your time. I’ve been briefed on what happened. You have my sympathies, both for the pain and for the loss of such delectable crystals.”

Firefly flinched at another stab of pain. There it is again. What in Chrysalis’s name happened in that throne room? A growl of frustration bubbled up.

“Is everything okay?”

She sucked in a little breath and realized she’d forgotten where she was. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s okay. They sometimes come in bursts. Feels like they’re done, but then there’s a little more.”

Arista nodded. “I understand. If what the physician says is true, and they continue to decrease, I believe you’ll still be more than fit for your assignment.”

At the word, Firefly sat up a little straighter. “Yes, sir! I’m eager to get back to Equestria. It’s been a long while since I’ve started… over.”

The thought didn’t sit right with her for some reason. It almost felt like another puzzle piece, but it didn’t seem to fit anywhere. I mean, I did love him. Maybe I haven’t gotten over it yet? How does one ‘get over’ loving somepony? She thought back to Skitter’s lessons, the same ones she’d stupidly ignored, but now found she couldn’t recall them. They were this vague, shapeless mass she knew she sat through, but no details came to mind. Hmph. Those sure would be helpful right now, brain.

“It always is difficult, isn’t it? But five years! Not a terrible stint. Though it did end with your source back here in a cocoon. More messy than we like, but understandable given the circumstances.”

“Yeah.” She nodded along, but a stabbing in her chest pulsed in time with a tiny ache in her head. She nearly focused on it, but if she kept zoning out and wincing in pain, he’d think she wasn’t fit for assignment.

And she was. Absolutely, definitely was. She was a collector. Sources were left or sent back to the hive. These things happened.

Her chest still hurt.

He cleared his throat. “Now then, it’s unfortunate to say that I’m afraid your last assignment is still stringing you along, in a way.”

She raised an eyeridge and stuffed whatever feelings away. Information about Roast! She needed to focus!

“Indeed. You see, we think we might have another situation similar to yours. Several months back, we received two shipments of love-dense crystals from our Ponyville collectors. I understand these kinds come from love directed at the changeling, not the changeling’s role. This, as you’re well aware, is not ideal.”

“No, sir.” Firefly shook her head, even though the ache in her chest grew worse. “I can fully agree. It’s not.”

“Except, the strange thing is, the third shipment’s crystals were normal and neither collector there changed sources. Three sources and one third of the Ponyville crystals turned dense for a short time.”

Firefly’s head reeled back and her eyes narrowed at him. “Wait. There’s only two collectors there? We have a polycule? How did that happen?”

“Some mares happen to love flowers that much.” A grin spread across his face before falling back to neutral again. “There’s a lot more to it than that, but back to the narrative, just because we had one collector’s worth of dense crystals doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the collector with one source.”

She nodded. “I understand. Causation and correlation are important to distinguish.”

“They are indeed! Your goal in Ponyville is to visit both of them separately, preferably while their sources are with them. See if you sense anything similar to what you felt with Fine Roast. If you think you’ve identified the collector, send a letter back to the hive before heading back yourself.”

“Uh, do you think that’ll work?”

“Sensing the ‘true,’ love? We suspect it may, why?”

Firefly tapped a hoof on her chin. “Well, I don’t remember feeling if Fine Roast’s love ever shifted from Sweet Leaf to me.” She nearly huffed in frustration at the pulse of a migraine.

“I think you may have been too close. From the reports Skitter sent, she didn’t notice much of any difference around Roast, just the normal variances from pony to pony. We think if you feel the general aura of love, you might be able to pick out those ‘true’ differences.”

Her eyes went wide as one word stuck out. Thoughts of Roast kept triggering it, but they had both been fairly close to Aura. What if she was part of it, too? She nodded and asked, “Advisor Arista? I know it’s not really my place anymore, but in Hoofington, there’s, uh, one pony I was wondering about.”

Arista’s lips pursed and he nodded. “Refined Aura?”

“Yeah.” Firefly nodded and swallowed. She still cared for her, even if she’d never see her again. “What happened to her? I know having attachments is bad, but I can’t help it. She helped me out even knowing I was a changeling. And, well, she was my friend.”

“Mhm. It’s strange saying this, but I think you can rest easy. You were correct when you told Clypeus that Aura’s personality was a bit too… much to effectively replace. I won’t overstep into Odonata’s realm, but from what I understand, she had a talking to from the infiltrators and supposedly they came to an agreement.” Arista shrugged. “That’s all I feel comfortable saying, sorry.”

A breath Firefly hadn’t known she was holding slowly drifted out of her lungs. “That’s more than enough. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. As for your assignment, the Ponyville collectors you’ll be interacting with are Maxilla and Lacewing. Lacewing is the polyamorous collector, but you should see Maxilla first. They’re the lead and will be expecting you. All they’ve been told is that you’re going to be Ponyville’s third collector.

“As such,” Arista levitated up a folder and set it in front of Firefly, “here’s information about your disguise and further assignment details. Feel free to read it out front. If you have questions or are done with it or—” he gave her a pointed look, “—you want to take a break for breakfast, see Calypter when he comes in. Do you have any questions?”

Firefly pursed her lips and pondered how to ask it. “Just… one, I think. You said you’d been briefed on what happened in the throne room, right? Can you tell me anything?”

“Mmm, I’d prefer not to.” He shook his head and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I only know second-hoof information and likely nowhere close to all of it. General Elytra was there. Maybe she’ll know more?”

“Okay. Maybe she will. Thank you, sir.”

“Of course!” He smiled and nodded. “I am very happy your situation wasn’t more dire. Losing a collector of seven years would be quite the blow. I look forward to seeing you once you return.”

As Firefly stood and left, she realized the ache in her chest wasn’t going away. Something was very wrong and she hoped a certain general had answers.

She had to.  





Firefly rubbed a hoof against the back of her other foreleg as she stood and waited, wondering if it really was a good idea. Maybe she should have come back later. Actually being there, waiting for Elytra to call her back felt wrong for yet more reasons she couldn’t place. All the general had done in that throne room was stand and watch, but something about that simple thought made Firefly’s chest squeeze even tighter.

Maybe the queen was the one to talk to? She had to have more knowledge on everything, but every time Firefly thought about going to her majesty, her heart felt like it wanted to split in two. One half wanted to run to Queen Chrysalis and seek comfort. The other half was terrified of… something.

And Firefly had no idea what.

She looked over as the door opened and regret washed over her at the decision being made in her stead. The general’s assistant walked out to their desk. “Go ahead. She’ll see you now.”

Firefly put on a smile. “Thank you.” She entered the office and paused at the sight of the general chewing a bite of oat cake held in her magic. “Oh, uh. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Elytra swallowed the bite and set it down. “Oh, no, come on in. We had extra long PT with the guards this morning. Don’t mind me. And please, close the door and have a seat.” She held a hoof out at the two chairs.

Firefly nodded and sat on the furthest seat.

The other mare placed her elbows on the desktop and clacked her hooves together. “What can I do for you, Firefly?”

“Uhh, I wanted to…” Come on, she fought with her hammering heart, just ask about the throne room. It’s a simple question.

“Can I ask you something?” Firefly eventually said.

Elytra nodded. “I can certainly try to answer.”

Throne room! It’s easy! Her chest hurt more than ever and she had no idea why. So she did the logical thing and chickened out. “You seem… different than you were before. Why is that?” Relief and shame flooded her in equal measures. 

“Hm?” Elytra’s eyeridges creased. “Different from before when? Can you elaborate?”

Firefly pursed her lips for a second and decided to go along with it. She’d made her bed, now she had to sleep in it. “I mean, when you led me into the cell that first night, you were kind of matter-of-fact. And when you came to escort me, you were, well, polite I guess, but still very military-like. Except ever since I had my, erm, episode, it’s like you’re a completely different mare.”

The other mare leaned back in her seat and looked down for a long moment. When she came back up, she brought a small, almost fragile smile. “Could I trust you to keep this to yourself?”

Her head drew back as Firefly processed what she’d just heard. An advisor confiding in a nobody like her? Was she serious or was it a ploy? “I… of course.”

“Would you believe me if I said I missed it?” Elytra gave her a sad smile. “It’s not who I like to be, but sometimes I have to take on the persona of the gruff and hardened general. Especially with a changeling we had yet to figure out wasn’t plotting against the hive.” She gave Firefly a brief, pointed look. “Even moreso, leading half a thousand disguised changelings to the heart of Equestria was more bitter than sweet. It had been many years since I’d last set hoof in our beloved enemy’s homeland.”

She sighed and leaned back in her chair again. “Twenty-five years. That’s how long I spent as a collector. Seven sources and only one true failure that had to be sent back to the hive. I never fell in love like you or our queen, but that doesn’t mean I was unaffected.

“Another caste and several years later, I was transferred to the guard. Once you become a captain, you get special training. One such involves crisis management, including both physical and mental health. Years ago, a source of mine had a friend that went through panic attacks for a short time. It was difficult to watch, to say nothing of what it must be like to have one. Now that I have the experience and training to help… I miss it.”

Firefly opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the words to speak. She missed it too. It was why Firefly was so eager to get out of the hive. Equestria held so much more. It had so much heritage and prosperity, not to mention all the things and places! The ponies were kind and loving and…

And her heart felt like it was about to stab its way out of her chest.

“I apologize, Firefly. I don’t mean to imply you’re merely a substitute for the nostalgia of my golden years.”

Firefly waved her hooves back and forth. “N-No, no! That’s okay. I don’t think you were!”

“I appreciate that.” Elytra gave her a little smile. “Regardless, the hive has a way of, well, dulling a changeling’s sympathetic and empathetic responses. We have little culture of our own, no currency to speak of, and few luxuries. Our entire people are dedicated to deceiving others for survival. Those who have never left the hive don’t know any better and those who harbor enough hate or disgust don’t care to see it. Once you’ve been back as long as I have, you learn to take those moments as they come, good or bad.”

Elytra smiled a little brighter. “Being able to make yours a bit better is part of that.”

“I…” Firefly looked down and twiddled her hooves and tried to ignore the burning in her eyes, “I guess thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Elytra’s smile turned patient as silence filled the room. After a long moment, Firefly nearly asked if she could leave when the other mare spoke up, “But that’s not what you really wanted to ask, is it?”

Firefly couldn’t keep the surprise off her face and her forehead kindly reminded her it was still injured. Through the pain, her mind told her to say that was all. No need to waste the general’s time. Firefly didn’t really want to be around her anyway. But her heart begged her to say there was more. Fight through the pain and figure out what happened.

And how to fix it.

She barely managed to shake her head. “How… uh, how did you know?”

A sly grin crossed Elytra’s face. “You guard your emotions pretty well.” She winked and led Firefly further down a path of confusion, “Certainly not as good as myself, however your face sometimes tells a different story. Now, not that I don’t appreciate being able to talk about my past with someling who understands, but what was your actual question?”

Come on. Simple words. Say it! “You, uh…” say it! “You were there, right? In the throne room?”

She slowly nodded. “I was.”

“Could you,” Firefly squeezed her eyes shut and her breaths came unsteady. “C-Could you tell what… what…” She didn’t want to continue. It hurt. It hurt so much and she didn’t know why. Firefly looked up at the sound of Elytra’s chair sliding back.

Firefly watched as Elytra walked around her desk and stepped towards her. Tension she didn’t understand gripped Firefly’s body and she was surprised to see the other mare hesitate. A strange, sympathetic smile crossed Elytra’s face and she took a step back. She looked to her side and instead took a seat next to Firefly.

“You want to know what happened, right?” Elytra nearly whispered.

Firefly almost shook her head. She feared it would be more than she could handle. But she had to know. She nodded.

“Pay close attention, Firefly. I…” Elytra pursed her lips and Firefly’s eyes widened the smallest amount at the droplets of anger she felt from the advisor, “I can tell you some. Can I assume you at least remember up to that which we’re not supposed to talk about?”

Firefly nodded. The Loveless. The thing Firefly almost became. That the queen almost became.

“Right. Well, you,” she hummed for a long moment and Firefly was baffled to feel the anger shift to the tiniest bit of… caginess and doubt, “you got a little upset and didn’t exactly watch what you were doing. You tripped on a step and smacked your head right into the edge of the dais. I’m surprised you missed your horn, honestly.”

Firefly’s eyes remained on Elytra’s for a long few seconds. Her stare was returned with an equal lack of expression. She had no recollection of being upset. She couldn’t think of a reason she would have been angry. There was nothing to be angry about. The Loveless were a horrific way for an entire species to die. Of course she couldn’t be allowed to bring it upon the hive.

Maybe that’s what Firefly became angry about. The fact that she was capable of it at all.

Or perhaps… this feeling was something to be angry about? This pain, the aches that came whenever Fine Roast was brought up. Whenever his love was brought up. But that made no sense! It was impossible to even imagine! A changeling loving somepony was wrong and so utterly dangerous. To give it up was obvious.

It was the right thing to do.

Firefly tilted her head and let just a bit of confusion pass to the general. “Is… that true?”

“It is. I wish there was more to tell you—” more doubt trickled from her “—but I’m afraid there simply isn’t.” This time, there were no emotions, only the general’s words.

Firefly’s mouth nearly opened, but she felt like she’d be betraying someone if she did. But it felt even more as though she’d be betraying someone else. Someone important to her. Just like… like someone had betrayed her.

“General Elytra?”

“Yes, Firefly?”

Firefly licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Some… something’s wrong.”

A flare of anger escaped Elytra before it was instantly stamped out. A smile graced her face. “What do you mean?” She said as gently as she had during Firefly’s panic.

“The physician says my headaches are normal, but they feel wrong. I don’t think a concussion can cause pain when you think. Especially not when you think about specific things.”

The general closed her eyes and Firefly heard her take a deep breath. Not a single emotion came through. 

Elytra’s eyes opened. “Have you, by chance, seen Spindle yet?”

Pain and betrayal filled Firefly’s chest. She felt it on her face. “I… what?” Why would she change the subject? She knew more, Firefly was sure of it. Why wouldn’t she tell her? Did she even care at all? Had Elytra been acting the whole time?

“From what I understand, you both were close. I imagine you’re going to be gone a while and you two should spend a little time together. Chat over dinner or go play a game. If you remember where the nursery is, you should be able to find her there.”

“But, General Elytra, I’m serious. I don’t understand what’s going on inside me.” She placed a hoof on her chest. “I don’t understand this… hurt.”

Another smile was all she got in return. “If my time in Equestria taught me anything, it’s that friends will see each other through. It’s pretty rare to have good friends here in the hive.” Elytra’s smile widened a tiny amount. “I think trust in them is a pretty good thing to have, don’t you?”

She strained as pain lit up in her head, but the fog lifted ever so slightly. Trust. That conversation! I remember it was about trust! Roast and I were… were… 

“Try to relax,” Elytra’s voice came through. “Try to relax. You’re going to hurt yourself worse if you push too hard. But, I am glad you’re doing better. I can understand how you felt as I took you to Her Majes—”

A single knock came on the door before it opened. Firefly glanced over Elytra’s shoulder to see a changeling. The assistant, she presumed.

“General? The queen is here to see you.”

A breath caught in Firefly’s throat. She suddenly felt like a mouse trapped with a hungry cat. She couldn’t understand why she was scared. The queen was benevolent! She cared about all her changelings. She would only hurt— She wouldn’t hurt Firefly!

“Ah, tell her…” Elytra peered around the doorway, “Hello, ma’am! Give me thirty seconds and the office will be yours.” She turned back to Firefly and set her hoof on Firefly’s foreleg. “Let me know if you need anything else before you head out, okay?”

Firefly could only nod and hope her smile was convincing.  “Okay. Thank you.”

“If I’m not here, tell my assistant and she can—”

Firefly glanced up and over the general and she barely kept her eyes from popping open.

“General Elytra. Firefly. It is interesting to see both of you in the same place once again,” Queen Chrysalis said as she walked further into the now-cramped-feeling office.

Elytra turned to face the queen and Firefly awkwardly stood up. The general offered a nod. “I apologize, your majesty. If I had known it was urgent, I would have finished with Firefly immediately.”

Queen Chrysalis shook her head, then shifted her gaze to Firefly. Her heart nearly seized at the small smile crossing the queen’s face. “No, no. I merely had meant to have Firefly directed to me before she left for her assignment. I can instead do it here.” She looked back to her general. “You may take your seat, Elytra.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Elytra walked past the queen and sat at her desk.

Firefly couldn’t hold back the tiny gasp through her nose as Queen Chrysalis stepped further in and shut the door. 

“Now, this shouldn’t take long,” the queen said and faced Firefly again. “How are you feeling, Firefly?”

She held onto her fragile, little smile and offered a small head bow to match Elytra’s. “I am doing better, your majesty. The crack in my chitin is healing rather well and my headache is getting better.”

Queen Chrysalis tilted her head a few degrees. “Oh? That’s still present? If you’d like, I can help with a little more expeditious recovery.”

Firefly shrunk into herself and felt as if she’d made a terrible mistake. “Oh, y-you don’t have to, ma’am. The physician said it should be gone on its own soon.”

“Nonsense.” The queen shook her head. “It’s hardly any effort on my part for a boon on yours. Come closer.”

Firefly couldn’t stop her hooves walking her over, even as her heart screamed at her to run.

“Good. I am going to cast a spell. It may make you woozy for a few, short seconds, so feel free to sit first.”

Firefly felt tears billow in her eyes and watched as her queen smiled and lowered her head. She felt the queen’s breath caress her face and Firefly closed her eyes. Her breath held in her chest at the clack of horn against horn. Green lit up behind her lids.

A few, long seconds later, the green popped into a flash and her eyes shot open. Her head bobbed back and forth as she tried to focus on the blurry queen wavering before her. Queen Chrysalis reached up with her right hoof and Firefly flinched at the firm grip on her foreleg.

“There we go, easy,” she heard the queen say. “Give it a few moments and it will pass. Just focus on me.”

Up she looked at Her Majesty, those green, slitted eyes turning from cool and calculating to soft and caring. Firefly blinked hard a few times. A great relief flooded through her and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Uhm, I uh,” she shook the last remains of dizziness away, “thank you, your majesty.”

Firefly almost glanced away from the queen’s eyes as she felt the tiniest shred of displeasure from behind the desk. She furrowed her brow, ignoring her forehead’s pinprick of pain, and barely caught the downward flinch of Queen Chrysalis’s smile.

As quick as it all happened, it passed. Chrysalis’s smile returned in full. “You’re quite welcome. That should have you feeling right as a fresh molt and your headaches as nothing more than a memory.” She stepped aside next to the desk. “Now, then. Unless you have anything else you’d like to discuss, you’re free to leave.

A smile placed itself on Firefly’s face before she offered a bow. “Of course, ma’am. Thank you again. I… really do feel a lot better.” She turned to the mare sitting behind the desk. “And thank you, General Elytra.”

“You’re very welcome, Firefly.” Elytra smiled and Firefly couldn’t help but feel it looked a little strained.

An odd worry came over Firefly as her eyes stayed on the general for the tiniest of moments, but she realized she was being silly. Even if the general couldn’t revisit Equestria herself, Elytra was still happy Firefly could. With a final little bow of her head, she went out the door and closed it behind her. Firefly nearly skipped out the military advisor’s office. She was happy knowing that things had finally taken a turn for the better, despite all the little problems along the way.

Things were going to be okay.





Firefly stood in front of a large, heavy-looking door. To one side was the sign Nursery and to the other was one titled Visitors. She quietly read, “To enter, knock once on the outer door. If there is no response within five seconds, enter, close the outer door, and pull on the cord to the right.”

She tilted her head at it. “Oookay?” It was worth a shot. She raised her right hoof and leveled a solid knock against the first door. After a count of five, she heard no response and gently opened the door.

As she peered inside, the first thing that hit her was the warmth. Only a small increase from the hive’s normal cool, but it was still odd. She stepped in and shut the door behind her. To her right was the cord. With a light of her horn, she gave it a tug. Her ears perked at the sound of… nothing. She eyed the cord and wondered if she’d pulled it too soft or not far enough.

Right as she was about to pull it again, she heard the inner door crack and was taken aback by the absolute rush of heat and humidity and dozens of musty pheromones. There were so many that Firefly had trouble picking any single one out.

“Yes?” The feminine-sounding changeling asked, near a whisper. “Quietly, please. It’s naptime.”

The other changeling didn’t look like Spindle. Their head fins were a little too long and she was a bit too tall. “Hi, I was told that Spindle works here. Is she around?”

“She is, but she’s preoccupied. What do you need her for?”

“I’m a friend. I was hoping to talk to her.”

The other changeling raised an eyeridge and flicked their eyes up to Firefly’s little wound. “Spindle has a friend? You’re not Patella, are you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m Firefly.”

“Hmm.” They pursed their lips and looked her up and down. “Hold on. I’ll go ask her.”

The door closed and Firefly wondered if she should take a seat. After what felt like a minute she huffed and decided she would indeed. With a flop, her chitinous rump hit the floor.

She began tapping a hoof on the floor until she realized it might be audible from the inside. Another couple of minutes and she sighed with an eye roll. What is taking them so long? 

As Firefly was about to get up and pace in the tiny ponytrap, the door clicked.

It slowly swung open, revealing the same changeling dripping with amusement. “Apparently you are a friend. And I quote, ‘Firefly?’” They gasped in mimicry. “‘Yes! Please please let her in, please?’” They dropped the expression, but kept the wry smile. “Unfortunately, nap time is almost up. Fortunately for you, however, we came to an agreement. After the little ones get out of her leg holes, I’ll cover for her and you both can go do friend things. That work for you?”

Firefly shrugged. “Sure. I appreciate it.”

The other changeling snorted. “You got it. She’ll be out in a few. Have a good one, Firefly. I expect a story from her tomorrow morning. Feel free to wait out in the hall.”

Firefly sucked in a breath to offer a response, but narrowed her eyes as the door closed in her face. She sent a mental huff of anger through it instead. “Hmph. I’ll give you a story.”

She exited and a few minutes later, the big wooden door opened again. “Firefly!”

“Hey, Spin—Oh!” She clammed up at an unprompted hug before quickly returning it.

Spindle pulled back with a big grin. “I’m so glad you’re okay! How did you—er, well, maybe this isn’t the best place for this.”

Firefly raised her good eyeridge. “You wanna talk over some lunch?”

“I mean, I would, but…” she trailed off and Firefly watched her eye trace its way to her injured eyeridge. The younger mare gasped. “Oh my gosh! What happened?! Okay, no. I think we should, uh, talk elsewhere. In fact, my room is pretty private. Would you, uh, wanna head there?”

Firefly kept that eyeridge raised as she assessed the mare she’d never looked at quite that way before. Turned out, she was pretty cute. Firefly had been thinking about finding someling for a little fun. Spindle was a little more lithe than most ’lings and how she held herself wasn’t bad at all. The mare had some gumption and drive. Both kinds, it seemed. Firefly liked bold, but a little blushy and, if she remembered correctly, Spindle fit both pretty well. How long had the girl been without? She figured it had probably been long enough. Maybe even since Hoofington.

She sniffed at the air and withheld a wrinkle from forming on her nose. The amount of pheromones on the other mare was a little distracting, but… she could work around that. Plus, in the end, what was one more?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Spindle reeled back with wide eyes. “Firefly! What the buck?!”

“What?” Firefly must have let her emotional guard slip, but that was far from the response she expected. “You’re the one that suggested it.”

“I absolutely did not! And even if I was interested right now,” Spindle shoved a hoof in her direction, “you’re bucking married! Seriously. What even…? What?”

Firefly blinked. Then blinked again and let some of her confusion out through the twinge of a renewed headache. “Uhh, no? I’m not married. I don’t think there’s a single changeling who actually is.”

Spindle merely stared. Several seconds passed as Firefly held it, but added a little more squinting. She couldn’t tell what the other mare might be thinking.

After more silence, Firefly opened her mouth, but squawked when Spindle grabbed her hoof and pulled her down the hall.

“Yep. Okay, sure. This needs to happen. You have a room right? In the dayshift section?”

“Yeah?”

“Good.” Spindle let go and stepped behind Firefly. She gave a hard shove to Firefly’s rear. “Your room. Go. Now.”

“Okay, alright!” Firefly huffed. “You don’t have to be so pushy.”

They headed up a level and turned towards the sleeping quarters. Firefly figured no words needed to be said. It wasn’t far and before she knew it, the two had arrived at Firefly’s assigned room. She let Spindle inside first, then shut the door behind them. When she turned back, she came face to face with fury and a slap across her cheek.

“You better have a good explanation for this, Firefly. In fact, this better be nothing more than an act, because I don’t know what made you think I’d be in the mood for sex and I have no idea why you would be!”

Firefly stepped back against the door and held a hoof to her face. It didn’t hurt physically so much as it did deep inside. “I’m sorry. I guess I thought that after everything that happened…” She set her hoof down and shook her head. “But no, it wasn’t an act. And, again, I’m sorry. I misread things.”

The anger slowly melted off Spindle’s face as she stared. “Firefly,” she nearly whispered, “What happened? What about Fine Roast? Or the cafe? And what happened to your head? Are you… are you okay?”

Firefly sighed. She walked over to the table, pulled out the far chair, and sat down. “I’m fine, Spindle. I just hit my head on a stair.”

The younger changeling followed and sat across from her. “Firefly, I can’t think of a single place in the hive where we have stairs. We can walk on the ceiling, for Chrysalis’ sake!”

“There are stairs in the throne room.”

A gasp came from across the table and Spindle covered her mouth with a hoof. “What did she do to you? Did she hit you?”

Firefly rolled her eyes. “No, Spindle, Queen Chrysalis did not hit me. I tripped.”

Spindle clacked a hoof on the table. “That’s not a trip. Trips don’t cause those kinds of cracks.”

“Then I tripped wrong. That’s it. This isn’t some pony foalhood abuse story. I tripped.”

Tightness came across Spindle’s lips. “Fine. Let’s say you tripped. What did the queen say?”

“What did she say about what?”

Anger began to pour from the other mare and her pursed lips turned into a growl. “Is all this a bucking joke to you? Was you bawling on my shoulder a joke? Haha, funny prank on Spindle, is that it?!”

Firefly threw her hooves in the air. “No, it wasn’t a joke! I’m sorry, Spindle! I’m sorry for overreacting! I was caught up in the moment and I should have known better. These things happen to collectors all the time. Some sources get shipped back to the hive and we move on. I screwed up and didn’t tell the hive that a detective knew about me. These things happen.”

Spindle huffed and stood up, propping her hooves on the table. “They happen. Really? Then tell me. Say it.”

“Say what, Spindle?”

“Say you never loved Roast. Say he never loved you. That he never loved Firefly.”

Firefly sighed as a tiny twinge of ache boiled up deep within her head. She felt her face twitch. “I can’t.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“It would be a lie. I did love him.”

It was Spindle’s turn to roll her eyes as she sat back down. “No, you didn’t.”

Firefly leveled a glare at her friend. “Excuse me? Who are you to say what I did or did not feel?”

“Because,” Spindle snorted, “if this is how hard you fought for him, you never loved him.”

“I did love him!” she nearly yelled. “But it isn’t right. It can’t be. Chrysalis showed me that. Changelings aren’t meant to love ponies.”

“Are you serious?! Do you hear yourself? You’ve been getting double from Roast for years. Of course we’re meant to love!”

“No, Spindle.” Firefly shook her head and growled. “That’s a pony loving a changeling. Changelings are not meant to return that love!”

“Yet you did it for months. Explain to me, Firefly, because I clearly do not get it! You were downright snarling at those guards, and now you’re over it? Please, as your friend. I’m trying to understand. Not counting the double love he gave you, how could you discard something like that?”

Firefly couldn’t answer. She wouldn’t allow herself to. The Loveless were too dangerous to let take over again. Still, her friend deserved some kind of an answer. “It’s not as simple as discarding it. There was real love for him, but I had to give it up. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you why.”

Spindle sighed. “I want to believe you. I really do. Except… I can’t. You looked ready to tear someling’s throat out if they didn’t let you and Roast be together. And just two days later, you’re seriously ready to find someone to rut with. I may have no personal experience, but even I know real love doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.” She looked Spindle in the eyes. “But I cannot explain it. Please understand. I can’t.”

Spindle merely looked at her for a long moment. “I’ve been thinking a lot in the last couple days. You don’t realize how much I look up to you, do you? You were the first to really extend a hoof to me. After I fled town, I thought that was the last time I’d ever see you. Even when I become a collector again someday, I held no illusions that we’d cross paths. I know we were friends only by circumstance, but I really do respect you.

“But I can’t respect this.”

Firefly narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“The pony you love is a couple hundred meters that way.” Spindle pointed with a hoof. “And yet you’re going to do nothing about it. Think for a second, Firefly. He’s going to stay there for decades, and if you do nothing, he’s going to die in there. Look me in my eyes and tell me that’s what you want!”

Firefly shook away the ache in her skull. “No, that’s not what I want. It… hurts to think about him spending the rest of his life here, but it doesn’t matter what I want anymore!” She shook her head. “Now what did you mean you can’t respect it?”

“I mean exactly that. I blew my chance at being a collector. Now I have to wait and hope I don’t screw up again, but you?” She pointed a hoof at Firefly. “You manage to do everything right. Not only that, but you achieved the impossible! You got a pony to love a changeling.

“And now you want to throw that away,” Spindle’s tight lips turned into a sharp frown, “something I never even had a chance at.”

Firefly sat back and looked at the other mare. She could see it in her eyes. Nothing Firefly could say would convince her it was wrong. Whether it be jealousy, the extra love, or concern for a friend, she wouldn’t accept anything less than the truth.

And Firefly would give up anything before she let her hive be infected.

“Spindle, you’re right. I did throw it away. I gave it up because I had no choice. And neither do you.”

Confusion ran across Spindle’s face. “No choice? What?”

Firefly wanted to huff or flick her tail in frustration or do something. The mare in front of her didn’t deserve this, but Firefly had to stop her before it came to be. “There are things more important than our own wants and desires. This isn’t something any changeling should want or be jealous of. The fact that you aren’t about to give up this idea shows how immature you are.”

“I’m immature?” The frown on Spindle’s face grew, as did the feelings of anger and indignity flowing from her. “That morning, when you cried your eyes out, if you were told exactly what you’ve told me, you’d never have accepted it. Yet, somehow, you expect me to?”

“Yes. Because, if you don’t…” Firefly swallowed the lump in her throat, “I won’t let you get that chance to be a collector again. You won’t ever leave the hive. The queen won’t let you. I’m sorry that this is how it has to be.”

The hurt and betrayal pouring from Spindle nearly broke Firefly. She kept her mouth pointed downward in a frown, lest the other mare mistake her for joking. She hated having to put her friend through this, but the hive mattered more.

It had to.

“I can’t… how?” Spindle’s voice shook as she stared at Firefly. After a moment, the younger mare huffed and her mouth turned into a pained scowl. “My friend, the-the one who wept on my shoulder, would never act like this.” She stood and walked to the door. “A-And, you know? I really miss that friend. She took care of me when I was too naive. She cried on my s-shoulder. Maybe one day I could have cried on hers, too. But you?”

Spindle sniffled and opened the door. A tear trailed down her cheek. “Let me know if she ever comes back.”



She walked away.

Firefly deflated like a balloon. A few moments later, she had the good sense to close the door before her own tears fell.

That was not what she wanted. Spindle was… the one friend she had left, and she hadn’t had many. In fact, she could only really say she’d had three.

One of them was far away in another city, another now hated her, and the last…

Firefly grimaced at the pain in her head and chest. She knew she should tell the queen or Arista or General Elytra, but she didn’t have the heart. As dangerous as Spindle’s thoughts could become, as much as Firefly’s mind was screaming to, she couldn’t, not to her. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of if she told any of them, but Spindle certainly didn’t deserve it.

She raised a hoof and tapped against the crack on her head. Only a tiny twinge of pain came in response.

With a huff, she wiped the tears from her eyes. Tomorrow. I’ll get this resin off, then I can get out of here.

She dragged herself to her sleeping hole and ignored the gaping wound in her heart.
> Act II ~ Chapter 17
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spindle idly poked at her food. She should have been excited. Fliers along the wall had the changelings in the cafeteria chatting up a storm. Finally, after so many winter months, a new stock of food and recipes would be available the next morning.

Instead, she plopped a spoonful of bland oatmeal in her mouth and washed it down with some water. She had tried to go for a run, but she couldn’t get into it. At least Mantodea was nice enough to still give her a triple love token. She’d decided to save it for a rainy day.

“Spindle.”

She looked up at the deadpan face of Patella. “Yeah?”

“What is up with you? You’re usually moody, but this isn’t the fun kind. This,” he held out two hooves in her direction, “is downright miserable.”

Spindle huffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing important. A disagreement last night still has me a bit peeved.”

His eyeridge remained raised. “Uh huh. Well… since my stories aren’t exactly thrilling for you this morning, have you given any thought to helping Palpus out?”

“Who?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Seriously? The tasty crystals? Helping a ‘ling out so she can get us more? That thing?”

“Oh,” Spindle said, “Right. That thing.”

“Yeah. So you wanna help or not?”

“Are there even any more of those crystals?” Spindle held back a grimace at the answer she already knew.

“Why wouldn’t there be?”

“I don’t know." She did know. "What does Palpus want again?”

“She wants to move castes. She’s tired of being a worker and wants to see if she can get into the gatherers.”

Yeah, boo hoo, poor Palpus. Spindle kept the sneer off her face. She’s not the only one who wants out. “Gatherers, huh? She wants to traipse around Equestria picking up crystals from collectors? Really shooting for the stars, there.”

His deadpan stare made a return. “Not everyone wants to be in the second best caste, Spindle.”

“Second best?!” Her neck reared back. “Excuse you, collector is the most important caste there is.”

“Just because they’re important doesn’t make them the best. Collectors would be nothing without the infiltrators. Or the couriers or gatherers, for that matter. But anyway, you wanna help or not?”

Spindle wasn’t exactly feeling generous, especially with the promise of something that likely would never exist again.

At least… not if she had anything to say about it. Which she probably didn’t anymore.

“Not really?” Spindle put on a half wince of sympathy. “The crystals are nice and all, but that seems like a lot of effort. What could you even do to help?”

“Ah ha!” Patella’s eyes lit up. “You see, I have a plan.”

Ohh ho ho, no. Why did I even ask? Spindle glanced up at the cafeteria clock and saw she had over twenty-five minutes until her shift. She instead sat up in mock panic. “Oh shoot! I have to get going.” She didn’t. “It’s my turn to pick up food for the grubs today.” It wasn’t. “Sorry, Patella. I’ll see you tomorrow?” She stood up and grabbed her tray in her magic.

He glanced behind him at the same clock and gave her a look. A knowing look, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. “Tomorrow’s my off day,” he finally said.

“Oh.” Spindle faked a wince. “And the day after next is mine. I guess I’ll see you in a few days, then.”

“Yeah,” he levitated up a fork and stabbed some eggs. “See you then, Spindle.”

Spindle walked off with her tray and set it in the dirty dishes window. She tried to feel bad. She really did, but Patella needed to be more mature. And maybe get better at storytelling. If he weren’t so young, I’d say maybe he should be the one to get out there. Explore the world a little, she thought as she exited the cafeteria.

Down a level she went. She passed by other morning ‘lings heading to their duties and some midnight-shift ‘lings heading to dinner. Then, she came to her destination.

The dreaded door.

Spindle huffed and decided to forgo the usual staring contest. She headed through both doors and froze mid-step as she saw Ootheca already there and the previous shift gone.

The other mare held a book in her magic and was laying stomach first on one of the nursery’s little backless benches. Her raised body allowed little grubs to snuggle up in and crawl through the holes in her legs. 

“Mornin’, Spindle.” Ootheca bookmarked and closed her book. “How was your evening?”

“Uh, hi, Ootheca.” Spindle slowly stepped forward with eyes half on the other mare and half on the grubs rushing for her. “I didn’t expect you’d be here this early.”

“My body’s clock has been waking me up earlier than usual lately. No big deal.” Her one free forehoof waved dismissively before a big grin spread across her face. “Sooo…” She leaned in.

“So… what?” Spindle knew she was delaying the inevitable, but maybe her coworker would drop it.

“Sooo tell me about your night! I filled in for you so you could go gallivanting around with your special friend. Plus, I may have dropped a few eaves and heard you specifically say, and I quote, ‘this needs to happen.’ Then you shoved off to her room! I want the deets!”

Spindle kept her emotions under wraps. The last thing she wanted to do was send the sensitive little grubs into headbutting fights because of her carelessness. Instead, she dodged the little ones and nearly leapt over the gate into the kitchen.

“Ooh. That bad, huh?” The annoying thing called out from behind her.

“No, there was nothing bad about it.”

Ootheca magicked out the grubs in her legs and stood up. “Uh huh, and my name’s Chrysalis. What happened?” Spindle opened her mouth, but was cut off, “And before you say, ‘nothing,’ remember. You promised me a story. I wasn’t expecting drama, but I’ll take it.”

A grumble made its way up Spindle’s throat as she pulled down twenty-three little bowls. “Fine. Nothing happened. She’s not that kind of friend.” 

“Ouch.” She winced, following Spindle over the gate. “Stonewalled, huh? Well, I’m sure someling else might be interested.” She opened the ice box and pulled out some fish and fresh greens.

“Ugh! No!” Spindle spun on her hooves towards the annoying changeling. “She’s literally not that kind of friend and I wasn’t looking for anything! We had a fight, is all.”

Another grin crept across Ootheca’s mouth. “The drama deepens. No happy fun time, then. If she wasn’t a lover and you two weren’t together, what kind of friend was she?”

Spindle snatched the food from the other mare’s magic and set it all on the counter. She slid the greens to Ootheca and started divvying up the salmon into the bowls. “I don’t really know. I looked up to her a lot. When I was in Hoofington, she was the only collector who went out of her way to help me.”

“She sounds like a nice ‘ling.”

“Yeah, she is. But, like, collector training is stupid inadequate. They teach you so much about Equestria and how to fit in, but there’s a ton they leave out. And, in the end, I don’t know if I blame them for it. There’s so many tiny things, little idioms, ticks, behaviors, magicks, professions, technologies! I seriously don’t think the instructors could ever cover them all.” Spindle finished with the fish and glanced at the other mare. While Ootheca was mincing the leafy vegetables, Spindle turned to check on the grubs.

She leaned over the gate and gave a couple nuzzles to a few of the silly, hissy, headbutty things. “Firefly, though, she helped me a lot. Instead of scolding me, she politely told me when I said something wrong. We met outside of the monthly meetings maybe half a dozen times.” Spindle sighed and faced the counter. “So… I don’t know what we are. Or were.”

“Hm.” Ootheca set the knife down and looked at Spindle. “If she sought you out, it seems pretty obvious that she thought you were a friend as well. Seems like you started as mentor and mentee, but graduated to more equals.”

“Yeah…” 

“Though, it sounds like you think the both of you aren’t anymore.”

“I don’t know! It’s frustrating. The first time in almost a year and…” Spindle growled at how little she was allowed to say, “and we both were happy to see each other. Except yesterday, she acted like all the things we’d talked about a few days ago were wrong! Like she’d changed overnight. Her opinions, her actions, her goals were all suddenly different from just a couple days before.”

“And these things you both talked about? Mind sharing?”

She huffed and turned away. “It’s… it’s private.”

“Of… course they are. And these things, I assume they’re of the important variety.”

“Yes, they’re important. It’s like her values changed from one day to the next and those things suddenly didn’t matter to her anymore!”

Ootheca half deadpanned. “Things.”

“Ugh! Why are you like this?!

“Boredom does things to a ‘ling.” She huffed. Her magic levitated a little bag from the counter and pulled out a couple crystals. She magicked one over to Spindle. “Alright. Then… have you considered that maybe there’s more to this Firefly changing thing? Did you try asking her?”

She growled as she grabbed the offered crystal. “What do you think?”

“Spindle.” Ootheca set her own drained crystal down. “I’m merely trying to talk it through with you. Don’t bite my head off for attempting to help.”

She closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. She got rid of her scowl the best she could and looked back to her coworker. “I’m sorry. Yes, I did ask her. She said the same thing I told you. That she couldn’t talk about it.” Spindle drank in the love and put hers on the counter as well.

Ootheca hummed for a moment, then gave a little eyeridge raise. “If she did change, then have you considered it might not have been her choice?”

“No. I’m certain that it is.” She shook her head and couldn’t keep the frown from seeping back on her face. Firefly made it clear. She had no love for Roast. “She made it clear it was her decision to accept it. She didn’t have to, but she decided she would! And, after she made that abundantly clear, she said she was going to—”

“Hey!” Ootheca gave her a look, “Tone it down.”

Spindle blinked. She realized that not only had her emotional guard slipped, a snarl was mere words away from letting loose. She forced the anger down and focused on keeping it all on the inside. “Sorry. I just… I don’t know who we are anymore. I feel like I don’t even know who she is. After all that, she said she was going to make sure I never become a collector again.”

The other mare rubbed a hoof along the bridge of her snout. She sighed. “I know you won’t tell me what this is about, but could you at least try to appreciate things from my perspective?”

Spindle narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Meaning?”

Ootheca tilted her head back and groaned. “I swear you need to read more novels. Fine, I’ll spell it out. You don’t know who you are to her. You don’t know who she is to you. The ‘things’ you talked about are ‘private’ and she doesn’t value them anymore. She tells you that the things are wrong, but won’t say why. She’s supposedly accepted this and you refuse to.” She lifted an eyeridge and Spindle kept her narrowed eyes on her. Ootheca fully deadpanned back. “Seriously? What it sounds like, is you and her might be an awful lot in lo—”

“Oh my stars, we’re not! I already told you!” She hated the flush that covered her cheeks and how unfair it was that blushes still showed through chitin. She grabbed a pestle and spat love into one of the bowls. “And you’re the one who reads too many novels!”

“Come on, Spindle! You were a collector, I know for a fact that you’ve read Romareo and Julienne!”

“Of course I have, it’s required reading. But that doesn’t… mean…” She paused mid-grind and blinked. No way. No bucking way. That’s fiction! These things don’t happen in real life. It was Firefly's decision. The queen doesn’t hate ponies so much that she'd threaten…

Spindle triple blinked.

Buck. And she kept saying she couldn’t tell me. That it wasn’t an abuse story. She really was trying to get my attention, wasn’t she?

She really wished she had a brick wall handy to smack her head against.

“And what is this? Suddenly realize something, dearest Spindle?”

“No!” She began mashing again and cursed the two species-crossed lovers. And the queen, apparently! How was it even a thing?! And why was Spindle the one caught up in it?! “Again again, no! It’s not like that!”

Ootheca grabbed a bowl and began mashing love into the grubs’s breakfast alongside her. “Oh my gosh. Then explain exactly what way I should take a blush, a sudden pause, and a subsequent thousand meter stare. Explain, Spindle!”

“No.” Spindle grabbed the next bowl.

“Excuse you? Might I remind you that you agreed to give me a story?”

“I did give you a story!”

“Yes, an incomplete one!” Ootheca glared and Spindle felt it as much as she saw it. “You can’t cut me off in the middle of the second act. Not when you have more!”

Spindle reached for the next bowl, but paused as she found them all to be finished. Ootheca smacked the last bowl down onto the counter.

“Girl to girl, Spindle. I’ve been around for long enough to know better than to blab. And, in case you weren’t aware,” her eyes flicked to the twenty-seven little grublings intently watching them through the gate, “tending to snarling little menaces for several years gets boring as buck!”

Spindle stared at her. Ootheca was as right as they came. Tending to grubs was mind-numbing at times. But she really really shouldn’t tell her. Very much shouldn’t. Yet, she opened her mouth and took a breath.

Then her eyes widened and she clacked her mouth shut again. What am I thinking?! If Firefly really is being threatened, I can’t betray her trust like that! Not for a half-day’s fill-in, not for a million bits! I need to find her and apologize. Hopefully she’ll trust me enough to tell me what really happened.

Lunch time, she decided. She’d find Firefly during lunch.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a long and loud groan. “Fiiine. I can see you’re not gonna. But!” She jabbed a hoof in Spindle’s chest. “When whatever this is comes to whatever conclusion it has, you better tell me. You owe me.”

Spindle let out an annoyed sigh and pushed Ootheca’s leg away. “Yeah, okay, sure. You’ll be the first to know about whatever fictitious resolution you have in your head about Firefly and I.”

“Good.” She levitated a few bowls in her magic. “Let’s get the little ones fed before they realize the disappointment they just witnessed was the first drama of their lives.”





Her chin lay on the table in her quarters, stomach growling for dinner, and eyes half-lidded in defeat. Spindle had checked Firefly’s door at lunch, but no answer came. Then she’d asked Calypter and found out she’d already left for her assignment.

A sigh escaped her lips. A mere hour. She’d missed her chance by a single, stupid hour. Spindle picked her head off the table… and draped it across the back of her chair. The universe hated her. It was the only explanation. Every single point in her life, her timing was off.

She’d fled Hoofington too early and left behind the only resource she had. She’d waited too long in Cincinneighti and almost got herself and a filly killed. Then, here she was, too late to try and help her friend. If Fireflys’ skills were any indicator, she’d be with whatever source she found next for a long, long while. The only upside seemed to be that Calypter hadn’t treated Spindle any different. Maybe Firefly hadn’t told anyling what Spindle said?

A knock came at the door and she nearly fell off the chair. She righted herself and her ears perked high as she trotted to the entrance. After calming her poor heart, she pulled it open and saw a changeling. Except they were a tiny bit too short to be Firefly, and their head fins weren’t long enough. They weren’t giving off any pheromones, either.

“Hi? What do you need?” Spindle asked, hoping the worry didn’t come through in her voice.

“Hello, Spindle.” The changeling nodded, a cool look on their face. “May I come in? I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”

The heart she’d just begun calming pounded away in her chest. Maybe Firefly had told someling.

“Uh, I-I mean, who are you? What thing?”

“I would rather say that in private.”

Spindle tried to read anything that might clue her in, but there was nothing. Not a single drop of emotions. But at the same time… if they were looking to see if Spindle was hiding something, she’d done a great job of outing herself. Might as well. “Sure. Come on in, I suppose.” She stepped back and allowed them to enter.

“Do you mind if we take a seat?” they asked.

She shook her head and closed the door. Spindle sat herself on the far side, facing the entrance. As they sat, she eyed them for any sign of who they might be or what they wanted.

“Hello again, Spindle.” The changeling broke the silence and brought along a small smile. “I would have come here in my armor, but I didn’t want anyling to get any… ideas. You’ll know me as General Elytra.”

Spindle’s eyes bugged out and she nearly scooted back in her chair. The scent of pheromones came, the same that was in the advisor’s office. “G-general? What? Why are you— I didn’t do… I mean…” Spindle decided to shut her mouth.

The general’s eyeridge raised before a chuckle rose out of her throat. “I’m going to assume that was a reaction of fear and not an admission of guilt. Regardless, I wanted to check in with you. And no, before you start assuming more things, I’m not here to detain you. The only deception I’ve made is not revealing who I was right away.”

“Uhm, okay?” Spindle cursed her reaction. Except there wasn’t really a way to know if she was being honest. “Not to be rude, but why are you here?”

“Before I get to that, I’d like to ask something of you. I’m out of my armor for a reason. It’s not exactly… proper for me to be visiting you as I am. Would you agree to keep this between us?” She gave Spindle a sly smile. “And that thing you obviously didn’t mean anything by? I’ll make sure to keep it between us as well.”

Spindle furrowed her brow and gave the general an odd look. “I… suppose so? I’m not really sure what I should be keeping to myself.”

“I’ll get right to it, then. Did Firefly happen to pay you a visit before she left?”

A chill swept down her back and she tried very hard not to let air rush into her lungs. Her head nodded. “Yes. She did.”

“Ah, that is wonderful.” General Elytra clapped her hooves together. “I was hoping she’d follow my advice.”

The general apparently was in the market for odd looks. “What advice, ma’am?”

She chuckled. “I’m not on duty, Spindle. I’d like to be just ‘Elytra,’ if you don’t mind.” The mare shifted in her seat. “The advice I gave Firefly was exactly that; I wished for her to come visit you before she left. And, if this conversation so far is any indication, your next question will be ‘why?’”

Spindle barely got out a nod.

“I trust you’ve kept what happened to her to yourself, and that is the exact reason why I wanted her to seek you out. You’re the only one of her peers who knows.

“I’ll… be upfront with you. Firefly was not in a good place when I took her to the queen. She was terrified of seeing her. You wouldn’t know it with how she acts now as she’s…” Something nearly came across Elytra’s face as the mare hesitated, but it was gone before Spindle could discern what it really was. “You could say she’s hiding it well. What she needs now, more than anything, is a friend. And what luck that she’s one of the few in the hive to have a true one.”

The deep inhale and widened eyes came unbidden to Spindle. After a moment, she slumped in her seat.

“Well,” Elytra pursed her lips, “that’s not good.”

Spindle looked up at her. “What’s not?”

An eyeridge raised and a hoof gestured to all of Spindle. “Whatever ‘this’ is. I’m assuming your talk didn’t go well.”

She let out a long sigh. Spindle sat back up and shook her head. “No, it didn’t. I tried to find her today, but she’d left before I got the chance to talk again.” She hesitated. “Elytra, this is between us, right? Just us?”

“Unless you offer threats to the hive or queen, yes. This conversation will not leave this room. In fact,” Elytra’s horn lit and the door, then the walls, floor, and ceiling glowed in her green magic for several seconds. “There!” She offered a smirk, “A soundproofing spell. It pays to be the general, sometimes.”

Spindle blinked. “What? I didn’t know changelings could learn spells like that.”

“We simply have to work a lot harder to learn them than ponies do,” Elytra said. “You wanted things to be between us and now it definitively is. I assume you have a question? Or something to say?”

“A question.” She looked Elytra in the eyes. “A simple one at that. What happened to Firefly?”

Elytra nodded. “Before I answer, I’d like to know what you know now. How much did Firefly tell you?”

A frown came across her lips and she tried to keep the rest of the glare off her face. “Almost nothing other than saying she couldn’t tell me. You weren’t there that morning you sent me to see her, so I can only guess you know what was said by proxy.” Another nod from the other mare. “Firefly bawled her eyes out in that room. You say she’s hiding it and I call horseapples. You can’t hide something like that.”

“Spindle, please understand. I’m not supposed to be here. I’d have to deal with an upset Chrysalis if she knew I’d come to talk about this. There’s only so much I can say. In fact, you already know most of what I can tell you. That something happened to her at all is more than you should know.

“What Firefly needs right now is a friend. Someone who will stick by her side, no matter what. I wish this conversation could have happened before she left for Ponyville. It’s my fault for thinking you two would be able to make it past this without help.” She let out a groaning sigh as she dragged a hoof down her face. “Listen, all this week, my guards and I have extended PT early in the morning. After tomorrow’s session, I’ll see what we can do.” She stood, a frown still plastered to her face. “Maybe we can… send her something. Or perhaps someone.”

Spindle stood with her. “You’re leaving?”

“That’s all I can tell you. I really need to think on this. I’m sorry.” She turned and lit her horn.

“Wait!” Spindle held up a hoof and the general’s horn died. “One more thing.”

Elytra glanced over her shoulder. “If I can, I will.”

“Why? Why do you care about Firefly? What’s so special about her that you’d put yourself against the queen?”

She turned fully towards Spindle again. “When I say this, know I am telling no lie. I love Queen Chrysalis. The amount she has done for us in her lifetime is more than I can convey. She is doing what she believes is right. I do not ‘go against her’ to undermine her. I consider her children my own and we both have our own ways of caring for them. We both have the same goals.

“There is nothing inherently special about Firefly and I believe the circumstances surrounding her are nothing more than coincidence. She is, more than anything, a hurting mare.”

Elytra’s horn lit and the room flashed green. She pulled open the door and looked back. “It was good talking to you. Perhaps we’ll see each other again soon.”

She passed through and left.

Minutes later, Spindle found herself back at the table, staring at the closed door. Questions spun back and forth in her mind. 

Was any of this normal? Did generations of old have generals talking to no-name caretakers as well? Did the queen actually care about her changelings or was there another motive?

What was really going on?

She kept being taken back to Elytra’s words. Firefly was hurting. She needed someone she could rely on and Elytra had expected Spindle to be that changeling. Except Spindle had chewed Firefly up and spit her out. 

Spindle may have screwed up, but the general obviously thought there was something else they could do. She said ‘we’ every time. That had to mean Spindle, right? Her ears perked up. Elytra said there was something they could send her.

Her eyes closed as she thought. Other than herself, Elytra, the queen, and maybe another advisor or two, noling else knew about Firefly’s problem. What could she send? Or who, she realized with a raised eyeridge.

She herself was out. Spindle had obviously proven she couldn’t be trusted to stick by her friends. Did Firefly know someling else? They’d never talked about any other friends she may have had before becoming a collector.

Was that what Elytra needed to go find? Someone else that Firefly was close to? Someone who wouldn’t buck everything up. Someone she could trust and would stay with her, through thick and—

Spindle gasped and bolted upright, wide-eyed. A reliable friend? To stick by her side, no matter what? Spindle may have missed her chance, but Elytra thought there was something else to be done. Maybe Elytra had already done all the thinking she needed to.

A little smile crept across her face as an idea began forming in her head. Elytra had different ways of helping changelings than the queen. She wouldn’t have come to Spindle if she thought the queen’s decision was right. She wouldn’t have sent Firefly to her for no reason. Nor would she have said Ponyville if she hadn’t intended for Spindle to know it. The queen had obviously done something to Firefly and Elytra was too close to Chrysalis to do anything about it. 

What Chrysalis did, Spindle had no idea, but it obviously made Firefly not be allowed to love Fine Roast. Elytra thought the opposite needed to happen, which meant…

The smile grew to a full grin.

Except… the joy melted off her face as quick as it came. That would be treason. Not whatever Firefly had been falsely accused of. Real treason. There were few greater things that would draw the queen’s ire.

But, there’s nothing else Elytra could mean! Who else could stand by Firefly’s side, through thick and thin, no matter what? If the queen’s right hoof mare says it needs to happen, then she must understand the consequences! And if she understands, then she’ll protect us.

She’ll protect me.

She had to.

Spindle stood and grabbed the triple love crystal token she’d saved from that morning. If Elytra meant what she said, then she must have also been alluding to something when she mentioned PT. Early and extended? That could only mean one thing.

Spindle didn’t even have until morning.





With a belly full of love, Spindle trotted off to her first destination. It would be the hardest, so it had to come first. If she got caught, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as if she’d been found with saddlebags full of food. She’d be punished, but it wouldn’t be treason. Yet.

Casually trotting along the hive’s upper level, she eyed the open archway to Storage and Acquisitions. She’d been there before during her search and rescue days and was relieved to see the front area had changed little. There was only one changeling at the counter, presumably due to it being nearly midnight. It seemed to be quiet enough for them to be reading a book.

Good. She needed quiet. 

But what she really needed was to get into the back, where all the goods were stored. She had no idea what it looked like nor who or what exactly was back there.

So, Spindle turned and went into a nearby restroom. Seeing all the doors open, she smiled and entered the furthest stall. A shiver ran down her body as she realized, yet again, the mess she was about to get herself into. But, she was determined to make it up to Firefly. Elytra knew that. She had to, if she chose Spindle.

Spindle took a deep breath and steeled herself. A small flash of green along her head and neck was all she needed. Different fins and a different voice.

She exited the stall and checked herself in the restroom’s single mirror. With a nod of satisfaction, she shut her pheromone glands and left the restroom. She upped the cadance of her breaths and headed into the storage area. Her heart beat away like a drum as the changeling looked up from their book. At her.

“Hi. What do you need?” The masculine-sounding changeling asked.

“Hey,” she said, making sure to sound half-breathless, “just came from the kitchen. One of my knives broke and I need another. Right now.”

He gave her an odd look. “Sorry. You need to get with your advisor for an acqui—”

“Yeah, I know I need an acquisitions form! I don’t have time to get one! All the advisor's offices are closed until tomorrow morning. But the cafeteria is open now,” she stomped a hoof, “and I need a new knife now.” She stomped another.

“Al… right?” He grimaced, wavering back and forth. “I’m not supposed to do this, but if you fill out a form, I’ll have it sent to your advisor tomorrow for signature. You know the item number?”

Spindle deadpanned at him. “Do I look like I know item numbers?”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” He sighed and began to turn. “Alright, let me go grab it so we can fill it out.”

“Uhh, what? You don’t even know the kind I need!”

He tilted his head at her. “You need a kitchen knife, right?”

“Oh my stars.” She facehooved. “I need a santoku knife. Do you know what a santoku knife looks like?” Spindle didn’t, but she’d heard of it back in Hoofington. Some ponies said it was an absolutely essential kitchen starter knife, so the hive had to have some.

“Oh!” He turned back to the counter and magicked up a big binder. “If we have it, they should be listed in here.”

Buck! If changelings could sweat, she was sure she’d have rivulets dripping down her neck. Of course they’d have a catalog!

“Hm, kitchen knife… kitchen knife…” He ran a hoof down the page and flipped it several times. “Here we go. Paring, peeling… santoku!” His hoof stayed on the listing for a moment and Spindle watched his face droop to a frown before he looked up. “Uhh… looks like we don’t have any in stock. Sorry?”

Spindle huffed and rolled her eyes. “No. You do have some in stock. Because I need a santoku knife. How else am I supposed to slice fish?!”

His eyes darted down to the page and he gave her a shaky grin. “With a slicer?”

She glared at him and tried to keep the grin off her face. This was going perfect! “Look, I’m sure you have some back there. It’s a common knife. Let me see your stock and you can get the item number that way.”

A wince formed on his face. “I’m… not supposed to let anyling but us storage workers back there.”

“And I’m not supposed to let changelings go hungry, but here we are!”

He bobbed his head back and forth and half grumbled. “Alright, fine. Come with me and you’ll see we have no santuki knifes.”

“Santoku.”

“Whatever.”

She followed him back and took the opportunity to check herself. Her heart still thundered away in her chest, her faked breathing had calmed, and her emotional guard still stayed up.

Good. Great! Everything’s perfect. You’re supposed to be here. Calm and smooth, Spindle. Calm and smooth.

The two of them went through an archway in the back and down a long hallway. They soon turned left, and Spindle’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of a wide and very long room. She had no idea at all that the hive had that much stuff tucked away. Desks, chairs, picture frames, wagon wheels, clothing, and rows and rows of bins.

As they made their way along the rows of shelves, she kept an eye out for where they kept the bits. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a couple changelings with clipboards standing in front of bins on the ground. She and her guide turned and headed down a row. They passed another changeling apparently taking inventory. Spindle’s eyes flicked from side to side, taking in all the little kitchen and dining things. She hardly expected to find bits down the only aisle he’d show her, but she could at least get an idea of how things might be organized.

Soon, he stopped and pulled out a short and thin bin near the floor. It was empty.

“Here.” He gestured to the bin. “See? No knives.”

Spindle huffed. “Fine, I believe you. I don’t understand how, but whatever. What other knives do you have?”

He let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. I left the binder back there.”

“Well, then could we pull out—”

“Hey,” A light and feminine voice said from behind and Spindle barely stopped herself from whipping around. “Need help with something?” The changeling they’d passed walked up with a limp in one of her hind legs.

“No,” the changeling from the front said. “I was showing them that we, in fact, do not have any santiki knives.”

Spindle squinted at him. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Oh?” The changeling mare looked at Spindle. “And who are you?”

She gave what she hoped was a disarming smile. “I’m Palpus, from the kitchen. And I really need to get back there. You don’t have any santoku knives, but,” Spindle gestured to the many bins, "you have to have paring knives.”

“Again,” he said, “without the book, I don’t know where they are.”

“Paring knives?” the other storage changeling said. “Right here.” She lit her horn and pulled out a bin.

Spindle frowned. Even she knew those were chef’s knives. She glanced back up. “Those aren’t paring knives. They’re—”

Her blood ran cold at the feeling of steel against her neck.

“Huh. Would you look at that… they aren’t!” A scowl quickly covered the mare’s face. “So, Palpus, how’s the commissary been treating you? Wasn’t aware they moved you to the kitchen.”

“I, uh…” Spindle swallowed and winced at the knife scraping against her throat’s chitin. She should have known better. A dumb, little mare like her against the whole hive? Hilarious, now that she really thought about it. Maybe if she came clean, they’d go easy on her. “I… I’m not Palpus.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “No duh. So, Not-Palpus. Let’s start with who you actually are, what caste you’re with, and why you’re here. And pheromones glands open, please.”

Spindle slowly nodded and released her pheromones. “I’m Spindle. And I, uhm…” Her days as a collector screamed at her. Half truths! She couldn’t let them know why she was here. She had no idea what they did with traitors, but with the knife at her throat, she could guess. “I’m with the caretakers. I’m here ‘cause my friend and I—” She winced as the blade scraped sideways up her neck.

“Your friend? Who’s your friend?”

“P-Patella. His name’s Patalla. And we were trying to help Palpus.”

A bark of laughter came from the mare. “Help her? You’re either stupid, or you’re stupid. How exactly were you planning on helping a ‘ling by trying to steal from us under her name?”

“She wants to be in a different caste! Patella thought if we could get her some supplies, she could prove herself. That she could be useful elsewhere. If we could do that, she’d make sure we’d get those dense crystals each morning.” In the back of her mind, Spindle wondered if Patella’s idea was anywhere near as stupid.

The other ‘ling held both her gaze and the knife against Spindle. After what felt like minutes, she snorted, shook her head, and pulled the makeshift weapon back. “Spindle? How old are you and Patella?”

“He’s s-sixteen, and I’m seventeen.”

The knife levitated back into its bin and she pushed it back onto the shelf.

Spindle shivered and let out a breath. She’d almost lost her life once before, but having it threatened felt so much different. So much more… terrifying.

“Here’s what you’re going to do, Spindle,” the mare said with disappointment written all over her face. “You’re going to go back to Patella and tell him you’re both young and stupid. Then you’re going to forget about this idiotic plan of yours. And that if you don’t and Sclerite,” she tapped a hoof on her own chest, “happens to catch either of you at this again, Advisor Cercus will find you both in his office the next morning. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Spindle nodded. 

“Good.”  She glanced at the other changeling, “Prosoma? Stay here. We need to have a talk about this. You?” Sclerite looked back to Spindle and jerked her head back. “Come on, to the front. You’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Spindle let out the breath she was holding and retraced her steps. The odd cadence of a limping mare echoed from behind her. Shame ran down her head and neck and pooled in her gut like hot oil. She should have known better than to try such a stupid plan. Palpus was a commissary ‘ling and both the commissary and storage were tended to by the workers. Of course someling would know who Palpus was.

Her eyes traced along the rows of bins and she nearly froze. Only her fear of being truly branded a traitor kept her moving. There, along the second shelf sat several bins labeled bits. There were single bit bins, five bit bins, ten bit, twenty, fifty, one hundred!

The row passed and she cursed herself yet again. So close and yet they might as well be on the other side of Equestria. All she’d need was a few of the large denominations and she’d have been set for weeks.

Her growl almost made it out her throat as she reached the hall. A couple dozen steps later, they were at the front. Her frustration came out as a huff and flicks of her tail and she began the walk of shame back to her room.

“Hey, Spindle.”

She looked back and almost gave pause at Sclerite’s lightened face.

“You’re young. You’ve got a lot ahead of yourself. Don’t throw it away like this.”

Spindle huffed and tried to keep the scowl off her face. Of course, because throwing it away was all she seemed to be good at. Hoofington, Cincinneighti, her friend, and now the entire hive. She grit her teeth and felt tears of anger and humiliation sting at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t trust herself to speak and merely nodded. 

“Back there, that took a lot of gumption. Really, it did. You just got unlucky.” Sclerite chuckled and tilted her head back to the storage room. “Prosoma might’ve given you the world if I hadn’t been stuck with this job. See this?” Her bum hind leg flicked out. “Got it from Canterlot. I was an infiltrator there. Five years in the royal guard. That blast of love was anything but lovely for us changelings. So don’t feel too bad, alright? I was quite literally trained to spot things like this.”

She supposed she should be happy she wasn’t being turned in to Elytra. At least Spindle had another day before the general found out, yet again, what a failure she was.

What a consolation prize.

“There are castes far more important than the workers or the caretakers.” Sclerite sighed. “Though, just because I can’t go back doesn’t mean we should ignore the talent right under our snout. Here.” Her horn lit and something shiny pulled itself out of a leghole. She flicked it over and Spindle barely managed to catch it between a hoof and her chest.

Spindle glanced down and sucked in a deep breath at the gold-and-platinum fifty bit coin in her hoof. She looked back up in confusion.

“That’s what you were really after, right?” Sclerite smirked and winked. “You’re subtle. Not as much as you think, but you could be. You know who Odonata is?”

Spindle shook her head.

“He was my old advisor. Tomorrow, you take that and tell him Sclerite sent you. You’ve got potential, Spindle. I’d hate to see it wasted here.” The mare turned and limped back to the storage room.

Spindle stared, long after she’d disappeared. She… did it? How? The 50 on the coin still shined as if mocking her. She’d failed, and yet someling took pity on her. Could she really call it a success if it felt like such a cheat?



Her magic flipped it over and the head of Celestia gazed back, like the benevolent ruler ponies thought her to be. She held the coin to her chest again. Maybe the universe felt sorry for its punching bag. It wasn’t a lot, but it would be enough to get a train to Ponyville and somewhere to stay.

The tiny smile dropped. Tomorrow morning. There was no way Sclerite wasn’t going to tell Odonata what happened. Not if she gave Spindle fifty whole bits. There was more she wanted from the storage room, but the bits would have to do.

Spindle tucked the coin under her elytra and set off back to her room. Somehow, step one was complete.

The clock had officially started.





Spindle eyed her nursery saddlebags, the things stuffed with food and her single coin. On the way back, she’d stopped by the commissary and asked for the next batch of food for the grubs. The little monsters were fickle enough that sometimes half of it would go to waste. So it took no convincing to get some early. She winced and hoped Roast would be okay with leafy greens, fish, nuts, and beans.

And then she ran out of thoughts to stall with.

It was time. Time to leave the hive and hope Elytra had a way to earn forgiveness. Her teeth clattered and she took in deep, shaky breaths. Steps one and two were complete. She donned the saddlebags and shook off her late-night fatigue. Once things got going, there would be no time to be tired.

Step three was putting everything in the maintenance tunnels for later.

Step four? Get Roast out.

Spindle nodded. She was ready.

She hoped.
> Act II ~ Chapter 18
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roast’s world fell out from under him.

He felt his body slosh down with some fluid into a big bowl. As he settled into the liquid, he glanced up, and there, on the ceiling was a blurry, bug-like body. A smile crossed his face at the sight of his beautiful wife. He breathed deep of the thick fluid and felt content to sleepily watch her work. She seemed to be tending to a loose, deflated sack.

Though, maybe it was him who was upside down? Then again, he had seen his wife’s friend walk along the very same ceiling. A moment later, he shrugged and realized it didn’t matter. Upside down, right side up, his wife was still his wife.

And she was all that mattered.

A minute or an hour later and the sack fell. It half splashed into the liquid and her eyes followed. Elation filled him as her gaze crossed his. He offered a wave and, the adorable mare that she was, she gave a hesitant wave back. A chuckle came unbidden. It was a true rarity to see her acting so timid.

With rapt attention, he watched her flip around and gently flutter down. He wiggled to get on his hooves and say hello, but as he surfaced, he felt a hoof shove him back down. His brows furrowed. She didn’t want to see him? Then he smiled again as he remembered. His wife must have had a good reason.

She always did.

So he settled back down, happy knowing he’d get to see her when she decided. The sack partly on him folded over and joined him fully in the vat. His green, fluid-filled container sloshed about as he felt it tug him along. A contented sigh left him at the sight of happy, sleeping ponies floating in happy cocoons.

His face scrunched up. That word didn’t seem very happy. Something about it felt off. He didn’t like that feeling. Instead, he filled his mind with thoughts of his pretty wife. Firefly would always be there to take the bad words away.

Soon, his little mobile tub came to a stop and began tilting to the side. Barely a moment later, he and the sack splashed down into a little basin. Slowly, the green liquid drained away. He exhaled and felt fluid dribbling out his nose and down his face. His next inhale burbled deep in his chest and his eyes grew wide in panic.

He slipped as he tried to stand, coughs wracking his body. A green glow enveloped him and he felt himself be set upright and his neck straightened. More fluid dribbled from his nose and mouth.

Even as breath-stealing coughs filled his chest, joy overflowed from his heart at the sight of his black, chitin-covered wife coming into view. He took a step forward, but paused at her raised hoof.

“No, no. Stay there, Roast,” her sweet voice said. “We need to get you clean first.”

He merely nodded and smiled. She knew best, after all. A moment later, a rush of lukewarm water ran over his body. A question rose in his mind, a silly one. But he instantly knew there was no reason to ask, even as the water moved away and shampoo lathered his body. She’d chosen the milder temperature for a reason and asking for anything hot was simply absurd.

“There we go. You’re doing a wonderful job. Almost done,” those soft, gentle, words came, bringing a smile to his face. They almost seemed a little off, but he knew she could change into anything she wanted. Why be stuck with one voice? Why not a thousand?

Soon enough, the water shut off and a towel fell across his body. Rigorous rubbing later, and his fur was merely damp.

“Okay,” his wife smiled and waved a hoof toward herself, “come on out, Roast.”

A grin split his muzzle from ear to ear and he nearly slipped in his rush to reach her.

“Oh, gosh! Ah! Wai—ohhhkay…”

He rubbed his cheek against hers, back and forth, over and over. Giggles bubbled up from within him. He simply couldn’t get enough of her!

“Okay, alright. Stop,” she said and he happily pulled back. “Roast, I need you to listen to me. You’re being held in the changeling hive. You and Firefly were taken. Do you understand?”

“Uh huh!” Roast didn’t, but he knew she’d be happy if he did. He took a step forward and leaned in for another nuzzle. 

“Ahp! No, stop.” She pushed him away with a glare. “Roast, I need you to understand. You were taken against your will. You’re being used as food! I need you to wake up. Firefly needs you. Sweet Leaf needs you.”

He almost felt hurt, but that drained away. Firefly was right. She was always right. She needed him and the smile that stretched across his lips hurt from the wonder of those words. “Okay!” He trotted around and plopped himself at her side. “I’m here!”

His joy turned into despair as a frustrated sigh came from his wife. She stepped away.

“No, I’m not—oh my stars. Please don’t give me that look. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I need you awake.” She tapped a hoof against her chin. “Shoot. Patella never mentioned how to…” her eyes flicked up to meet his. “Ohhh gosh, no. He did.”

His wife grinned a strange grin and came close. She put a hoof up to his cheek. “Roast, when you’re awake… please forgive me?”

He nuzzled into her hoof. “Anything for you.”

She took a deep breath. “You say that now…” She pulled her hoof back. “Stand still and close your eyes.”

With a nod, he happily did so.

And stars filled his vision.

Hot pain blossomed across the side of his face. Roast’s eyes flung open and he found himself sideways on cold, dark stone. The heat swelled into a throbbing sting as his eyes settled on a set of black, chitinous legs. He gasped and tried to scramble to his hooves, but his head joined in the pain. “Oh… oww. Dammit.” He needed to get up, this changeling hit him, but his dizzy head swam with strange thoughts. “P-Please don’t, I need to…”

The changeling kneeled down and he spotted relief cross their face. “Oh, thank Chrysalis. Fine Roast, Firefly’s in trouble. I’m her friend and I’m here to get you out. My name is Spindle.”

“Spindle?” He narrowed his eyes as she helped him shakily sit up. “From… Hoofington, Spindle?” His wife’s pretty face was stained with— No… what? She’s not Firefly. “What am I— what’s going on?”

“Yeah, Spindle from Hoofington.” She nodded and glanced warily to the side. “Listen, I don’t know how much you remember, but we’ve got maybe fifteen minutes before another caretaker patrols through here. I know you’ve got questions, but can we please hold them until we’re out?”

Roast hesitated. No questions? She expected him to trust her? Just like that? A frustrated growl roiled up from his chest. “I don’t know. My head hurts and I keep wanting to hug you or touch you or something. What is going on?”

“That’s the, uh… dangit, what did he call it?” Her face contorted in thought. “Hypnosis and something spells. I don’t know if it’ll fade, but maybe that’s a good thing if it doesn’t.”

He gave her a look. Was she really on his side? “What do you mean, ‘good thing?’ And… and I need to know. Why are you helping me?”

Spindle winced and looked away. “That’s… a long story. I can tell you later, but for now, I screwed up. Firefly’s hurting and needs you. Someling else in the hive is trying to help her too, but it’s up to me to do it.” She huffed and her pained eyes turned back to him. “Roast, helping you means betraying the hive. I’ve already put a lot on the line before I even got to you. We can talk more later, but we really need to go.”

If it really were that desperate, he knew he should trust her. His brain told him to anyway, but that was why he couldn’t. He’d been fooled before.

“That night, before you left, why were you there and not with your source?”

“Roast, please! They come through every—”

“Answer it quick, or I sit here until they do.”

Spindle growled. “You stubborn ass. You have no idea what I’m risking for her. For you. Fine. I bucked up. I tried to make more crystals when I thought I had time. But, I didn’t and Wavy Palette caught me as a changeling. I ran and asked Firefly for some of her crystals so I could leave town.” She stepped up into his face. “Is that enough, or do you want my whole life story, too?”

His eyes flicked between hers. “Yeah, that’s enough. I’m sorry.”

“Good.” She stepped back. “Before we leave, half of this getaway is on you. We have to walk our ponies regularly and we do so with these.” She levitated a leash and chest harness from a hook next to the basin. “However, your part is the hardest. You ponies are brainwashed while you’re here and you think only of your lovers.

“That means,” she gave him a stink eye, “no anger. No frustration. No curiosity. No surprise. Focus on her, and only happy thoughts of her. And don’t react to anyone but me. Got it?”

Roast glared back at her. “You call me an ass, tell me this whole thing rides on my shoulders, and expect me to suddenly be happy-go-lucky? Meanwhile, I’m worried about my wife, about getting shoved into one of those again,” he jabbed a foreleg at the cocoons, “I’m worried about your queen killing me for trying to escape, and I’m supposed to just be happy?!”

“I don’t like this either, but there’s no other way.”

“Not anymore there’s not!”

“Roast!” Spindle stomped a hoof. “The only time we take you out is when we walk you!”

He rolled his eyes and pointed a hoof to his still-throbbing cheek. “Then why didn’t you do this after you got me out of here?!”

She stared for a moment, then flicked her eyes down before closing them. Her shoulders slowly began to slump. A huff came from her nose as she shook her head.

Her eyes opened, filled with fatigue and pain. “Because my signature is screwing up. I always think I’ve thought of everything, but then something comes up and proves me wrong. I’m sorry, but please work with me. I’m risking so much, and someling could come any moment. We need to go.”

Roast closed his eyes and tried to will his frustration away. His face still hurt, but he tried to push his compassion to the front. It was one of the things Firefly said she loved. If the poor changeling in front of him was telling the truth, she was risking exile, or worse, to help.

“Okay.” His lips formed a thin line and he nodded. “I’ll do my best. I have no idea if it’ll be good enough, but we have to try.”

He stood still as she slipped the harness around his barrel. As she fed his forelegs through the straps, he tried to focus on Firefly. On Sweet Leaf and the cafe. Changelings are good creatures. Not bad. They don’t kidnap ponies. They don’t steal them away and stuff them—

“Happy thoughts, Roast.”

His eyes opened and he fought his frustration back down. “Right. Happy… happy thoughts.” He nearly jerked back as green flames engulfed her, leaving a facsimile of his pony wife in her place.

“Right.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “We take the forms of their loved ones to give the ponies something to focus on.” She huffed before a sweet smile crossed her face. “I’m sorry. I really wish we had the time for you to sort out your feelings. We can talk about it later. For now, there’s a maintenance tunnel a little ways from here. The path we’re taking shouldn’t have us crossing too many ‘lings. But we have to go.”

He nodded and tried again. A tug came from the leash as his charge began to walk away.

“Try to put a dopey smile on, too. And keep your eyes on me. I’ll tug if I start to feel anything odd from you.”

Roast tried to focus on his not-wife in front of him as she guided him to the exit and on to the real Firefly. He focused on her sunset orange mane, her lemon yellow coat. Soon came the memories of days spent tending to their customers, then of snuggling by the fireplace on cold, winter nights. As the two turned into a hall, he let a happy smile fill his face.

And nearly dropped it at the sight of another changeling.

The harness tugged on his chest, but the split second was already spent. “Hey,” the other changeling gave him a glance, “you might wanna get him checked. Looks like the hypnosis might be wearing off.”

“Yeah, I know.” Spindle sighed. “I felt it too. He was a little uppity when I rinsed him off, but ponies gotta be walked. I almost think he might’ve been one of the ones at Canterlot.”

“Could be.” They shrugged. “You want some help? I was about to head to the cafeteria, but I could take a detour.”

She snorted. “It might not look it, but this isn’t my first caste. Plus, I get triple incentives from the gym. I doubt he’d make it two meters.”

“Daaamn! That is some dedication I do not have. By the way, what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve met you.”

“Oh! I just got transferred from day shift.” Spindle glanced away and tucked her mane behind her ear. “I, uhh, I’m Spindle.”

Roast quickly reminded himself of how cute Sweet Leaf was when they first started dating and did his best not to react to the blush on her cheeks. A blush for someone else.

Both their heads turned to him.

“Huh.” The other changeling raised their eyeridges. “He did not like that.” They looked back to Spindle. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I was only curious.”

“Ah, no, no, it’s my fault. Collector instincts and all. When I’m in a disguise, it feels like everyling is hitting on me.”

“Oh, double damn! You were a collector?! I bet that’s got some stories behind it. Hey, I’m Pygidium. If you wanna grab food sometime, I’d love to hear ‘em.”

“Sure!” Spind—Sweet Leaf smiled. A very cute smile that was meant for him and no one else. “How about—”

Both changelings’ eyes flicked to him again.

“Heh…” Spindle rubbed the back of her neck, “maybe I should get on with his walk before I actually end up having to do something about him.”

“Yeah, that might be best. Maybe add some extra hypnosis before you put him under.” They walked past Roast. “I’ll try to catch you later, Spindle! See ya!”

“Bye!” She waved, then tugged the leash onward. A couple dozen paces later and Spindle turned down a side tunnel. She pulled him into what seemed like a storage room, filled with cabinets and boxes, and closed the door. 

“Sorry. This was dumb of me. That was so close I thought I was going to throw up.” Spindle lowered her head before sighing and pulling off the leash’s lead. “This really is all my fault. You’re not a changeling. You’re not even an actor. You’re a barista. I think we need to try something different. I have an idea, but it’s going to be uncomfortable.”

“Okay?” He furrowed an eyebrow at her. “What are you thinking?”

She trotted off and pulled open cabinet after cabinet. At one of them, she reached in and grabbed something before continuing down the line. Finally, she reached into the second to last cabinet and pulled out a towel. She turned back and tossed it to him.

“Dry yourself off some more,” Spindle nodded to the fluffy thing, then set both a mane and coat brush on a box. She slipped her wingtips into the harness straps and pulled it off him. “If you can get dry, brush yourself. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Noling should be coming through here this late, so you should be safe.”

“Where are you going?” He asked as he ran the towel along his mane.

“To get wet.” A nervous smile crossed her face. “Try not to be too… emotive while I’m gone,” she said, before opening the door and leaving. 

Get wet? Why would she need to… then Roast’s snout wrinkled at the realization. A grumble passed through him as he ran the towel along his fur and past the harness.

He wanted to think of how crazy she was, how much of a clusterbuck the whole situation was, but that might end up being too ‘emotive.’ The thought of his wife almost crossed his mind, but he knew that would end up sending him into a spiral. He had first-hoof experience with that.

The worst thing that could happen right then was some changeling stumbling upon him. So, instead, he tried to think of… he paused. Roast realized he had no idea what to think about. Had no idea what he could think about, not without driving himself worried or angry or some other damned emotion.

We really need to get out, because this is going to get old, fast.

Barely a few minutes later, the door opened and the pretty guise of Sweet Leaf walked back in, quite damp.

“That was quick,” he said.

“Yeah. Our restroom down here has a shower,” she replied as she began running a hoof backwards along her feathers. “In case we get stasis fluid on us.”

“Huh.” He eyed the feathers she was mussing up. “What are… you doing?”

She snorted. “They train us collectors to be adaptive, to think of the little things. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t and everything goes wrong. We don’t fix your wings or fur until after the walk. Exercise is more important and we can always shove you into a cocoon and fix it all next time. Heh,” she chuckled as she ran her hooves up the last feather. “You know, Patella’s prattling actually turned out useful.”

“Whose prattling?” He tilted his head and finished toweling off his tail.

She grabbed a coat brush and began combing out his fur. “A fellow caretaker I usually grab breakfast with. He has no idea how to tell a story and sometimes I, uh, ditch him before he can finish. But his seemingly useless stories about pony caretaking have somehow been a good thing.”

Roast snorted and began brushing his mane. “Wow. You sound like a good friend.” He felt her pause and glanced over. Her face had taken on a sad, pathetic look.

Great, where’s that compassion now, Roast? He turned back away. “Sorry. I didn’t—”

Spindle’s face scrunched up into a little grimace. “No, you’re right. I’m not, but I’m trying to make up for it. Firefly needed me and I…” She paused in her brushing for a moment. “N-no. Sorry. We can talk about that later. Firefly’s fine for now. We need to focus on getting you out first.”

Roast gave her a little smile and tried to keep his concern under wraps. He didn’t need to worry over her anyway. Firefly could handle herself for a little longer while he made his way to her. No matter what the problem was, she was a strong mare.

A frown crossed his face as it hardly made the desire to protect her go away.

After a few more minutes, Spindle stepped back, “Okay. I think you’re good. Now, I’m assuming you figured out what I meant for you to do here?”

He nodded. “Yeah, you want me to be the changeling.”

“Yep. I know it’s a terrible idea, but as far as I can see, it’s less terrible than expecting you to emote on demand.” Spindle slipped on the harness and held the leash out to Roast. “Slip this on your foreleg. I’ll give you a tug when we’re supposed to turn. It’s an hour or two past midnight and it’s meal time, so there should be hardly anyling around. Hopefully noling will run into us.”

“Hopefully.” He took a deep breath and slipped the leash’s lead on. “What should I say if I do? I mean, you’re a… caretaker, right? What do caretakers talk about?”

“Uhh,” she winced and made a face, “Nothing? All kinds of things? You heard what we talked about back there. Not a lot different from Equestria, but with more, um… hive stuff?” Spindle huffed. “And, of course, we have no time to educate you on any of that. I’d say be a bit grumpy, but you have no emotional guard. So, maybe look serious, but try to think of nothing. Sorry, it’s probably not helpful.”

“No, no.” Roast held a hoof up despite the bit of frustration he was sure she could sense. “It’s fine. We’re stuck with this and no amount of preparation is going to do anything at this point. So let’s just get going.”

“Sure, let me get my dope on.”

Roast snorted. “Your dope on?” He watched with a raised eyebrow as his wife’s borrowed face turned from slightly worried to absolutely in-love… dopiness. There was no better way to describe it, he realized. He barely succeeded in holding back a laugh.

She rolled her eyes, but tilted her head towards the door. He took another breath and turned back to the exit. There was little to it but to go. With a twist of the handle and a pull of the door, he left the room.

He led them back to the main hall and felt a tug to the left, the way they were originally headed. Both ways looked clear as he entered and let out a sigh at the empty hall.

Come on, Roast. It’s okay. You’re meant to be here. There’s no need to be nervous. Relax.

They continued for a few dozen seconds before he heard clopping and a changeling stepped out from a side passage. Seeing another almost spiked his anxiety, but he immediately reminded himself, yet again, that he was supposed to be there. The changeling didn’t—

Or maybe they did. Roast watched them give an odd look at the pair of them. He hoped to Celestia and Luna that he and Spindle could pass by.

“Hey,” the feminine-sounding changeling nearly made him wince, “you taking her back soon? She’s got almost nothing coming from her.”

“O-oh!” Roast turned with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He cursed their luck and tried to empty his mind at the sight of a suspicious changeling. “Yeah, I know. She wasn’t nearly as friendly when she came out this time. Probably due for another hypnosis spell, but we gotta walk them, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” She came up to Roast and Spindle. “But, like, this seems pretty bad. She might come out at any time.”

Roast shrugged and ran his hoof through his not-wife’s mane. He was a little amused when she nuzzled his hoof. “I’m not all that worried about it. I can handle her.”

“You seemed pretty worried.” She ran her eyes across the both of them. “I… really think you should get her back to a pod.” 

He shook his head and tried to keep the panic at bay. “I think I can manage. I get triples from my workouts. There’s no way she’d get away from me. Not with those wings.” He gave Spindle a little smile and patted the ground next to him. She looked as happy as can be to plop herself next to him and nuzzle all over his side. It gave him little kernels of joy to feel Sweet Leaf against him. “In fact, I was more worried about her coming out when she saw you than if I could handle her.”

An eyeridge furrowed on the changeling as she stared for a long moment. “I… guess so. What’s your name, anyway? I don’t recognize your pheromones.”

He kept the smile plastered on his face. “I’m Spindle. Just transferred from day shift.”

“Really?” She squinted at him. “I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Mhm! Came directly from the boss.”

The changeling’s doubtfulness appeared to double. “Cercus? Seriously? He’s stepping over my hooves again?” She huffed as Roast hesitantly nodded. “This is getting ridiculous. If he keeps this up, I’m gonna take it to the queen.”

“I’m only doing what he told me.”

“Fine. Whatever. Still, you should have come talk to me first. There’s more that needs done than walking ponies.”

Roast tried to look a little sheepish. “Sorry, were you the leader here?”

The frown deepened on her face. “...Yes. I’m the shift lead, Labrum. He didn’t even tell you that?”

“Erm, no. Sorry. I guess I should have asked more questions when he reassigned me.”

“Well,” Labrum huffed, “if I wasn’t about to get lunch, I’d tell you to pod her and then drag you back to my office. After you’re done, I expect you to be waiting there in an hour, Spindle. I imagine we’ll have a lot to talk about.” The changeling began to turn away. “And I swear, if she gets out, I’m going to have your chitin.”

“Yes, ma’am! She won’t!” He started to give a little wave, but a nuzzle nearly shoved him off balance.

The shift lead rolled her eyes and continued on.

One steadying breath later, and he continued on down the main hallway. Don’t think about it. Everything went according to plan. She had no idea you weren’t a changeling. Don’t think about it!

Despite definitely not thinking about it, he felt sweat drip down his neck. When he’d committed to loving a changeling, being a discount spy was not something he’d expected. Nor was it even something he wanted. He knew the risks of loving her, but living them?

His nightmares were nothing compared to being in the actual hive.

Half a minute later, he felt a tug to the right. They went down a smaller tunnel and the pair turned a couple more times. On the final turn, he halted right before his nose hit a wall. His eyes followed the passage upwards and his ears perked at an odd, higher-pitched sound he couldn’t place.

Spindle came up beside him and shook her head. “You sly, little changeling.” She smiled. “You got lucky as buck. Either that or you’re better at this than I thought.”

“Half half?” He gave a half smile and had to fight to keep his heart rate down. “That was, uh… a lot. I thought for sure we’d been caught. How did she not sense me?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” she said as she began removing the harness, “you were as nervous as could be. But I imagine she took that as you being new and meeting the shift lead for the first time.”

He nodded. Though, the interaction certainly did put a bit more of a time limit on their little operation. An hour wasn’t exactly very long for an escape from the hive. And the badlands.

“Whatever it was, we really gotta get going now,” she mirrored his sentiment. “Here, hold this and I’ll carry you up.” She hoofed him the harness and leash.

A flash of green and Spindle was her changeling self again. Before he could process a sudden feeling of disappointment, her wings buzzed and she wrapped her hooves around his barrel. She hoisted him up, slow and steady. At the top, rapid tacking of wings sounded against stone and he began to flail as they almost lost balance.

“Sorry!” She whispered and darted forward. In the now-horizontal tunnel, the tacks came again, but cut out as she fell on his back.

He felt her warm, smooth chitin sliding down his back and croup and he beat back the urge to have her slide along him more. 

“There. Sorry about that,” Spindle said and came up along his side. “It seemed a bit more spacious when I checked earlier.”

“That’s alright. We’re here now…” He trailed off and noticed ahead was a little door that seemed to be making that odd whistling. “Wait a second,” he whispered and squinted at her.

“What?”

He trotted forward a few paces, turned, and nearly blocked the width of the passage. “Are you seriously taking us through air vents? That kind of thing only works in books!”

She rolled her eyes and shoved past him. “And that’s a sign you read too much. Yes, I’m taking us through air vents. Or rather, the stone maintenance tunnel to them. No loud, metal banging. Though, you will have to duck for the first bit. And we’ll need to be quiet. The vents do happen to connect to rooms. Rooms that contain changelings.”

Roast nodded as she opened the door. A flush of air rushed past him and he couldn’t help but think that if he wasn’t dry already, he would be soon.

He followed her into the tiny hole, maybe two-thirds his height, taking care to clop his hooves as softly as he could against the stone. The tunnel slowly became taller and wider, until he could fully stand up. He glanced to the sides and suspected a couple ponies could probably fit if they snuggled extra close.

As they made their way along, a couple of the smaller, crawling-sized tunnels sported conversations. Each one the dual-toned signature voices of changelings.

Eventually, Spindle led him to a wide, windy tunnel that curved up halfway to vertical. Branching off were several other tunnels near the same size as the one they’d exited. On the ground was a pair of saddlebags.

Spindle trotted up and magicked them onto her back. As she strapped them on, she walked back and whispered into his ear, “Okay, this was the easy part. Now we’re going to go up.” She tilted her head to the incline. “I haven’t been here since I was a nymph, but there should only be one guard up ahead, one we should be able to sneak past. They should be a raven, so if you hear a caw, don’t panic.”

Roast raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of ‘shoulds.’”

“It’s the best we’ve got. Unless you can think of a better way to sneak out of an unfamiliar, underground, hidden bugpony hive.”

After a second, Roast shook his head. “No, you’ve got me beat there.”

“Thought so,” she said. “And because topside is all kinds of sandy, I’m going to be a sand-colored gryphon. I would have liked to get a tarp to cover you, but I kinda… well, let’s say I couldn’t and leave it at that. You,” she pointed a hoof at him as green flames covered her body, “are lucky enough to have almost-sandy fur.” She put her gryphon claw down. “Any questions before we throw ourselves to fate?”

“Uhh, no? Or, well, what if we’re caught?”

The edges of Spindle’s beak turned into a tight line. “That’s… one thing I hadn’t figured out. Let’s hope we don’t.” She turned and took a step up the tunnel.

“That’s kind of an important bit to gloss over, don’t you think?”

Spindle huffed, looking back at him. “Look, Roast. I had less than two hours to plan this before I lost my window. If you want to complain about how poor a job I did, there’s plenty of changelings around! Pick a tunnel!”

Roast sighed and deflated. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I’m just… nervous.”

“It’s alright.” She gave him a little, fragile smile. “I understand, because underneath all this, I’m about to wet myself. Or throw up. My body can’t seem to decide which. I’m pushing through it because it’s too late to do anything else.”

She faced the uphill tunnel once more and began up it.

He continued to tiphoof along behind. A morsel of guilt filled him as he realized he hadn’t been thinking at all about her side of things. She was giving up a lot more than he was. He’d already lost everything he could, while she had given up all of her own so he could have a chance.

‘Why’ is what he really wanted to know. Was Firefly really that special to her?

The tunnel curved around and Roast’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of several splits at the end of the tunnel, all of varying sizes. Spindle led him up a smaller one and, a few meters in, it looked as though someone had broken up a bunch of tumbleweeds, then shoved them to the sides.

She turned her head and his ears barely caught the words. “I cleared it out earlier, try not to step on them. Once we’re out, follow me to the right, away from the moon.”

Roast took a deep breath and nodded. He carefully stepped past the broken twigs. Finally, a dozen paces later, he was met with the open night sky.

A heavy weight left his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the sky and stars and moon. The thought of being trapped forever in that cave, cycled in and out of cocoons until his dying breath, sent terror up and down his spine. He glanced back and felt a deep, burrowing pity for the dozens of others forever stuck in their tomb.

“Roast!” Spindle whispered and grabbed his shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re out, but you need to get a hold of yourself! You’re a beacon right now. Please!”

He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stuff the feelings away. They weren’t out yet. There was still a great deal to get through before then. He turned to the right with Spindle and took his first step towards that freedom.

Roast nearly jumped at a flutter of wings. A raven landed in front of Spindle and looked her over. Its eyes snapped its head to him, then eyed her again.

“You two smell of spit,” it spoke and Roast’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why are you outside? And why are you,” it pointed a wing at Roast, “so emotive?”

“We, uh, we’re caretakers,” Spindle said. “We were trying to sneak out for a nighttime flight. We thought that we—”

“As an earth pony and a gryphon? Idiots.” The raven shook its head. “You’re both going back inside. Stay here. Or else.” The bird spread its wings and took to the sky.

And slammed into a boulder with a flurry of black feathers.

Roast stared wide eyed at Spindle’s red claw, then to the bird dripping blood onto the sand. Fear washed down his back at Spindle's same wide-eyed stare and pinpricks of pupils at the unmoving bird. He rushed to her side. “Spindle!” he whispered. “We have to go! Guards have to hear that and feel me!”

She slowly shook her head, her eyes never leaving the raven. “N-No… I-I can’t. They’ll die. We… we have to…”

“Spindle!” he spoke louder. “We don’t have time! If we don’t leave now, that’s going to be you!”

“I’ve n-never k-k-killed before. If we leave them here, they’ll… I can’t let them. She’ll hate me and I’ll never be able to…”

She was stuck in her head. He knew it. He’d seen it with Aura a few times. But he didn’t have time to gently guide her down. Roast stepped in close and grabbed her face. “Listen to me. They’re not going to die. Here’s—”

“They will!” Spindle nearly shook out of his hold, but he held strong.

“Listen! I’m going to yell, when I do, we’re both going to run. West,” he jerked his head to the side, “towards the moon. Got it?”

She shook her head. “No. No that… they’ll still—”

Roast took a deep breath and tilted his head back. “Help! Someone help!” He glared at Spindle. “Are we leaving?”

“Buck!” Spindle stared at him for half a second. “What were you—”

Roast growled and sprinted off. If she didn’t follow, that was her own damn fault. He heard flapping behind. A gasp tore itself from his throat as he felt four legs grasp around him and his hooves left the ground. He flailed and tried to kick at his captor.

“Stop! It’s me!” He heard her breath against his ear. He nodded and felt her back legs snug tighter along his belly.

The sandscape sped past, faster and faster, only a dozen hooves below. Behind, distant caws began to fill the night sky. Roast tried to peer behind, but Spindle’s forelegs held him tight. He kept his ears pointed back, but was relieved to hear the guards’ calls fade away into the darkness.

A jerk to the side nearly wrested a cry from him. He saw Spindle had turned behind a rocky outcropping. She turned again, flying lower and dipping into a valley.

A few minutes later, as they came out, he noticed the moon to his right. He tapped her leg. When she didn’t respond, he tapped harder and opened his mouth.

A claw snapped over his mouth and he winced as a talon nicked him. She slowed enough to let the roaring wind die down. Her beak met his ear once more and whispered, “yell, and I drop you. What do you want?” She put her ear next to his head.

“The moon is to the right. We’re going the wrong way.”

She pulled away and said, “Yeah, that’s because somepony decided to alert the dozen or two guards outside that we killed one of them.”

“That was because—”

She growled. “I am fully aware why you did it, and I’m still pissed. At you and at me.” He flinched as she clacked a beak in his ear. “You have no idea what just happened. What this forced me to do. To become.”

Roast wished he could see her eyes, if only to try to calm them. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t know all the implications of what I’ve done. But you were frozen! I had to do something before I lost the only chance I had.”

“I. Am. Aware! You think I’m—” A deep rumble came from her chest, distinctly felt against his back. She held him tighter. “I don’t have the time to process what I did. I feel like freaking out or breaking down and crying, but I can’t! Scouts will be following us soon, and they’ll probably be sending a letter to all the nearby infiltrators too. It won’t take them long to figure out who we were. And after that…”

“But weren’t—” he winced, almost wishing he hadn’t begun the question. “You broke me out. Weren’t they already going to come after us?”

“No.” She shook her head the little their situation would allow her. “Well, maybe. I don’t know and this isn’t the time to explain. Now, I need you to hush. Time wasn’t our friend before, but now it’s our enemy.” She raised her head and the wind blazed past them once more.

Roast closed his eyes against the dry, cold air and tried to get comfortable.





Pre-dawn light shone around the small, northern badland mountains high above. The gryphon holding him was panting. More than once in the last minute, her grip had begun to slip.

“Spindle.”

A grunt came in reply.

“We need to stop. You’re exhausted. And I’m afraid you’re going to drop me.”

He felt her entire body shake back and forth as much as her head did. “T-There’s a little… valley… up ahead.” She panted. “Another—another minute, maybe. Gonna… stop there.”

Her legs nearly slipped again and he felt her barely keep from digging her claws into his sides. He couldn’t help but look down at the rising cliffs below. “Spindle! You’re going to hurt me as much as yourself if you keep this up. It won’t help us stay ahead if you pass out and get us killed!”

“I… can make it. Please… be quiet.”

Roast sighed and tried to make himself as easy to hold as he could. Her talons were uncomfortably sharp against his ribs and every flap of her wings made them jab that bit deeper. Ahead was a ridge, and the small valley beyond, he assumed.

He hissed as a talon finally pierced his hide, just as they crested onto a plateau. A low yelp came from his throat as he fell half a meter and stumbled a short ways. A heavy thump to his right found Spindle flopped on her belly in the early morning dark.

Ahead, he spotted a stone outcropping, almost cave-like, but with signs of being pony- or changeling-made. Probably to keep the worst of the elements away. He sighed and walked to Spindle. “Come on, let’s go take a rest.”

A hum in the negative was all he got.

“Spindle, you know this area better than me. It’s probably more comfortable over there.”

A groan came in response.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her saddlebag strap in his teeth. He strained to lift the heavy gryphon, but received no other complaints. Her claws and paws dragged along the ground as they passed under the overhang. He gently set her down on the cool, packed dirt and looked around. Roast was almost surprised to find a large, rugged travel chest set in a far corner.

He trotted over and unlatched it. His eyebrows rose at the surprisingly well-lubricated hinges; not a single squeak of protest as it opened. Inside, he found many camping supplies and began rifling through for something useful.

“You know,” Spindle’s tired voice came from behind him, “they used to… keep love and bits hidden here. After the invasion, they decided to make these spots a little more… anonymous.”

“Huh,” Roast pulled out a sleeping bag. He turned back to her and raised another eyebrow as she grunted and stood.

“Don’t bother,” Spindle said as she sat upright. “Ten minutes is all we can spare.”

Roast pursed his lips at her. “Seriously? You’re dead on your hooves. We have to rest.”

She shook her head. “We can’t. Unless the schedule has changed, the first train out of Dodge Junction leaves in a couple hours. We need to be on it. There’s no telling when they’ll catch up.”

“You,” Roast trotted up and shoved the sleeping bag into her chest, “don’t have the energy. You need rest.”

Spindle shoved it back at him. “And I’ll have even less when I wake up. I burnt most of my love getting here. If I sleep, I’m using even more. There’s no food here that’s not in my bags and no reason to stay.”

He squinted at her. There was still that lingering sense of… need when he thought of her. Moreso when she was in her changeling form. He wondered… “Change into Sweet Leaf.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay, sure. Let me, your not-wife, change into your wife’s disguise. ‘Cause that’s definitely how love works.”

“You really think it won’t?”

An unamused expression coated her face. “Roast, I am—I used to be a collector. Love was my speciality.”

He shrugged. “Then all you have to lose is a little from transforming. You’ll need a new disguise anyway. There’s no way the guards didn’t see at least the big gryphon.”

She stared for a moment longer. “Fine. Whatever.”

The same green flames he’d seen dozens of times before surrounded Spindle. A second later, in front of him, stood another near-exact replica of his wife. A bit shorter mane, maybe a shade off her coat color, but in the growing light of day, it was a spitting image.

He missed her more than he realized.

“Hey, sweetie,” Spindle trotted up to him with one of those loving smiles he knew so well. “How have you—are you bucking kidding me?”

“What?” he leaned forward and ran his cheek along hers.

She pulled back and squinted at him. “Are you… this better be for her.”

It was. Mostly. Bobby Pin was a very cute mare and had a wonderful personality. It certainly didn’t hurt that she shared a lot in common with Spindle. Though, seeing her become his wife? That was the cake.

And he found he kind of wanted to eat it, too.

Roast gave her a little smirk. “If a changeling can’t tell then who can? Now you wanna snuggle or what?”

“You and your wife both…” she sighed and plopped herself next to him.

He promptly put a hoof around her withers and pulled her close. Her tense muscles didn’t go unnoticed. “What about us?”

Spindle didn’t answer right away. Several seconds later, a tiny huff escaped her and she relaxed into his embrace. “She hit on me. Or rather, she tried to hook up with me.”

“Huh.” It was kind of amusing. He knew neither of them wanted any but each other. “I’m not worried about it. Were you posing as me? Or did you not have your pheromones open?”

“It was just us, changeling to changeling, and she was serious, Roast.”

He shrugged. “I trust her completely. I didn’t know changelings liked each other like that, but it makes sense with how much Firefly enjoys… well, I’m sure you know. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“Wait a second,” Spindle leaned a tiny bit away and looked at Roast. “Are you two in an open relationship? Erm, I mean…”

Roast couldn’t help but enjoy her cute blush, much like the ones Sweet Leaf had back when they’d dated. “Why? You looking to join?”

“No! I mean, you’re both wonderful, but that’s not for me. And I’m not really into—”

He hugged her tighter. “I’m joking, Spindle. We aren’t into that either.” His eyes narrowed at nothing. “As far as I know, anyway.”

“That’s not what I…” she puffed. “Anyway, it did make me a little uncomfortable, but mostly because of… other reasons.”

“Ah, I see.” Roast nodded in understanding. “Well, when we get out of this, I can tell her you don’t swing that way.”

“No, that’s not it.” She shook her head. “I actually kinda prefer mares. For Firefly, it’s more that she was taken, and… ugh.” She rubbed a hoof against her head. “It’s too complicated to explain right now.”

Roast hummed and lifted his foreleg off slightly. “Would you prefer I take my hoof off?”

“No, it’s fine. If it helps you, then go for it.”

He furrowed a brow. She may have thought it complicated, but they had some time. Love couldn’t fill her up in an instant, after all. “Can I ask a question about that?”

“Sure.” She shrugged and he felt her lean into him. “I’m trying not to think of things anyway, so go for it.”

“You said you’re lesbian, or at least leaning more that way. Why Wavy Palette, then? Why not a mare?”

Spindle chuckled. “That’s easy. I don’t really know what to do when I’m with girls that way, even though I was trained for it. Mares make me feel all… squiggly and squirmy inside. Enbies kinda do that a little too. Early on in training, I decided to choose stallions because then I can emotionally distance myself from them.”

He snorted. “Of course. Out of all the changelings, it would be you who would pay attention to that lesson.”

“How do you know about that?”

Roast gave her a look. “I’m married to a changeling. Plus, she kinda did the exact thing that lecture said not to.”

Spindle glanced away. “Right.”

Roast really did wonder if his hoof around her made her uncomfortable. Though, getting to hug a facsimile of his wife’s disguise was helping with loving her. That brought with it another thought and he stole another glance at her. “So, you like those other than stallions. Do you find… ponies attractive?”

That drew a deep sigh from her. “Look, Roast, I just gave up everything, including any chance at ever being a collector again. How I feel about anyone, changeling, pony, or otherwise, means nothing at this point.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze her tighter. “You don’t know that, Spindle. I have no idea how I’m going to stay with Firefly, but you better believe I’m going to find a way. Who’s to say there’s not a way for you too?”

Spindle shook her head. “Wishful thinking. That’s all it is.”

“Come on,” Roast gave her a friendly little shake, “you’re trying to not think about things, so let’s think about something else. Your dream creature walks up to you one day. What do they look like?”

She leaned away to glance at him, though he did notice the tiniest of smiles. “What is this? A slumber party?”

He laughed. “It could be! There’s a couple sleeping bags right over there!”

She snorted, but fell silent and looked down. Several seconds later she said, “I’ve only ever met changelings and ponies before, so I guess they could be either. But, at this point, I feel like it might be more rare for two changelings to love each other than for what you and Firefly have.” She sighed again. “I don’t really know. They’d have to love me, at the very least. Maybe dote on me a little bit. I’d also love to be able to dote on them too.”

Spindle glanced at him. “I’d ask what yours would be, but I feel like you already got your dream mare.”

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath, “I can’t lie, she’s… amazing and I still have no idea how I got so lucky. Her disguise’s name was perfect, she really is sweet. She’s strong and independent, but is…”

Roast trailed off as guilt seeped into his chest. He realized he’d just listed all the things Spindle didn’t have. As she turned to him with a questioning look, he decided to try playing it off. “Uh, speaking of, I guess now’s as good a time as any. What happened to her?”

His brows furrowed in worry as Spindle’s shoulders went slack.

“I… don’t really know. I was able to meet her before she went to plead with Queen Chrysalis. That morning, she cried on my shoulder and yelled at some guards. She was completely set on fighting for you.

“A couple days later, two days ago, at that, she comes and finds me. That’s when she hit on me. We went back to her room to talk and she acted completely different from how she had before. I think she was trying to ask for help, like the queen had done something to her. She kept saying ‘I can’t tell you what happened,’ and I was stupid and got angry at her. We fought and I left.”

The worry deep in the pit of Roast’s heart reared its head once again. “What do you mean the queen did something to her?”

“I don’t know that she did, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. I think maybe she threatened Firefly.” She gave him a little smile before it fell into a guilty frown. “I didn’t pick up on the signs, but they’re so obvious looking back. That’s why I’m helping you. That, and another changeling was trying to help.”

Roast raised an eyebrow. “Another changeling?”

“Yeah,” Spindle nodded. “A guard, or rather, our general. General Elytra. She said Firefly’s hiding how much she’s hurting and that she needs help. So she… recruited me to help Firefly? I guess that’s the best way to put it.” She slumped further. “But then I went and killed one of her guards.”

“Hey,” he squeezed her again and pulled her up, “you have no idea what happened after we left. I know they heard my yell and probably got help.”

“I… don’t know if I can believe that.” She glanced up to him and he saw tears pool in her eyes. “I’ve never killed anyone before, Roast. I never thought I’d kill a pony, let alone one of my own people. I’m truly a traitor now. I don’t think even General Elytra could convince Queen Chrysalis to accept me back anymore.”

“You don’t know that,” Roast said and pulled her into a hug, but she pushed him away.

“I don’t get you.” Spindle wiped her nose on her fetlock. “How are you not freaking out? Your wife probably got threatened by our queen for wanting to be with you. Yet you’re taking pity on me?”

He gave her a gentle smile. “We’re on our way and will find out what really happened to her. I am worried, and I know you can tell, but we’ve made it this far. Together, Firefly and I can handle anything, I believe that. As long as we can get to her, we’ll be okay. We made it through Tartarus once and came out with a friend. But you want to know something?”

She merely raised an eyebrow.

“For the last year, I’ve been most worried about you.”

Spindle reared her head back. “About me? How? Why? Were you afraid I was gonna come back?”

Roast shook his head and chuckled. “I was more afraid you weren’t. Firefly told me what happened and how no help was going to come for you.”

She merely stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “How in the hay did Firefly get so lucky?”

He laughed. “You call this luck?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“Mhm.” He nodded and sat himself next to her. “The universe works in mysterious ways. No matter the luck, good or bad, I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

Silence sat between them. He had wondered why he’d been so lucky, yet at the same time, so very unlucky. He loved his wife with all his heart, but being married to a changeling came with certain… disadvantages. His current situation being one of them.

Yet, he felt he was more lucky than not, as his fur brushed against his faux wife. Spindle was a good friend and Roast found himself elated that Firefly managed to find one like her. He wondered if Spindle would one day consider him one as well. Goodness knew he and his wife needed more friends in common.

His thoughts were interrupted as Spindle stood.

“Well, I still don’t get it, but I feel like I’ve got at least a half day's love, right here.” She tapped her chest.

Roast puffed out his chest. “Maybe I’m just that good!”

Spindle rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Green flames surrounded her once more and a light gray mare with a darker gray mane and tail stood before him. She had purple eyes and a cutie mark of a blue feather crossing over a white one.

“Hm?” Roast hummed. “And who’s this?”

“An old disguise of mine. No one, pony or changeling, will recognize her. I used this girl,” she fluffed out her wings and readjusted her saddlebag straps, “in my trip over to Cincinneighti. You can call me Meadowlark.”

He grinned. “Well, Meadowlark, you think my love is enough to cross mountain tops?”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “How does she put up with you?”

“It’s my dashing good looks, obviously.” Getting The Look from her was nearly as exciting and amusing as it was with Firefly.

“Uh huh,” she said and crouched low. “Hurry up and get on before I decide to leave you behind.”





Roast slipped off Spindle’s back, taking care to avoid her saddlebags. She’d set down a couple kilometers outside of town and he needed no explanation. It would be rather strange to see a pegasus hauling an earth pony around. As the air around them settled, his nose scrunched at the smell of old-fashioned body odor. 

“By the way, we kinda stink,” Roast said and sniffed his own pits. “Should we stop somewhere first?”

“Nope!” Spindle shook her head as she trotted on. Roast caught up to her and she continued, “That’s actually a good thing. If a pair of strangers came from an overnight walk, it would seem odd if they were clean and showered, don’t you think?”

“Huh.” He tilted his head. “I didn’t think of that.”

She gave him a smile. “And that’s why you have a trained individual like me. Which, by the way, I’m your hiking buddy and we made our way from Appleoosa.”

Roast tilted his head the other way and raised an eyebrow. “A pegasus that likes to hike? That’s not odd?”

Spindle shrugged. “We had worse covers in training. Turns out ponies are willing to accept strange things if you spin it right.”

“I suppose so.” Roast let silence reign until the two crossed some train tracks and entered Dodge Junction proper. On the edge of town sat the train station. He followed Spindle up and barely tuned in to her buying tickets. He turned his sights to the little community.

There was a long strip of several dozen houses and businesses on either side of the road. For the relatively-few buildings, there seemed to be quite a few ponies about so early. He figured it must be a farming town thing. It came to him that he’d ordered Dodge Junction cherries on more than one occasion. 

Then, it suddenly hit Roast that the cafe must have been closed for days, if not weeks. 

His shoulders deflated at the thought.

He missed the hustle and bustle of the long days. He missed the customers and the coffee tasting. But most of all, he missed her. They were going to see her again, but… he closed his eyes as it hit him.

“Hey,” Spindle came up beside him, stuffing a couple tickets in her saddlebags. Her voice lowered to a more gentle tone. “What’s going on?”

Roast tried to give her a smile, but found it wouldn’t come. “I, uh, realized we can’t go back.”

“Back?” Spindle scrunched her brows. “What do you mean?”

“To Hoofington. To the cafe. They’ll be—”

Spindle cleared her throat. “Excuse me, dry mouth.” She put a little kiss on the side of his head and whispered, “We shouldn’t talk about that now. Sorry. For everything.”

He forced a shaky smile on his face as she pulled back. “I, uh, love you too.”

Maybe another time he might have been offended by her snort. “Mhm,” Spindle said as she stood. “The train will be here in a little under half an hour and we’ll be in Ponyville later this evening. I’ve got food already,” she tapped a wing on her saddlebags, “so I’m gonna get some water for the trip.”

Roast tried to look happy as she walked away. A tiny part of him wanted — needed — to follow her, to be close to her, but he shoved the strange feeling away. Instead, he sat back and tried not to think of the cafe that was wrested away from him. He tried to think of Firefly. Of what it would be like to be with her again. How she always knew what to do.

He hoped she still did.