An Icy (But Warm) Meeting
This day couldn’t have been weirder.
The initial panic of a possible changeling in the Crystal Empire has subsided now. Spike (the Brave and Glorious!) had a duty to protect the Crystal ponies (for definitely not-selfish reasoning.) He was quick to offer himself up as tribute a guide and gave all knew about changelings to the Crystal Guards. Splitting them up into a buddy system was his idea.
(He forgot to give on to himself but let’s not dwell on that—)
When he heard the word ‘changeling,’ the first thing that came to mind was Queen Chrysalis. He never got an up-close interaction with the bug-pony, but he remembered her face; sharp, pointed teeth, unnaturally glowing eyes, and a height that rivaled Celestia’s.
The second image was the soldier changelings that flanked their Queen, adorned in blue armor that looked akin to a stag beetle. They had pupil-less blue gaze and a hissing tongue that made Spike uneasy.
It was all very vivid.
So when he fell into that ice cavern, and subsequently running into the rumored love-eating bug, he was fully prepared to die—be drained of love, whatever the icky stuff they do.
Then Spike slipped into an open ravine, plummeting into a pit he couldn’t see the bottom of. The wind sped up around him, chilled and icy. That’s when he knew he was going to die.
So when said changeling caught him, brought him up to the snowbank, and preceded to not eat his heart…
Saying that Spike was confused was an understatement.
“You…you just saved my life?” he said, saying in a way that sounded like a question.
Cyan eyes blinked (Changelings could blink?). Then the bug-horse kicked his front hooves outward, studying the snow. “The ice is slippery. You should be more careful.” It—he—said.
(Wait, they can talk?)
“Wait, you can talk?” Spike echoed his thoughts.
The changeling was vibrating. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” he continued, not answering his question. He seemed to follow a totally different line of conversation, what with him muttering different versions of ‘sorry’ over and over again.
The drake cleared his throat. “Er…you there?”
After a few seconds, the changeling snapped out of his daze. “Huh?” He turned towards Spike, tilting his head to one side. Then the bug took a step back. “A-ah, sorry um,” he darted his gaze around the icy cavern, panicked. “I really shouldn’t be here. I swear I was about to leave, but the cave closed up and I couldn’t find another way out—how did you get in here? Never mind, not important…”
The changeling babbled on and on, his wings buzzing with anxiety. This was definitely not what he pictured a changeling to act like.
Perhaps this guy was just a really good actor?
Spike puffed out his chest, stepping towards the bug with feigned confidence. “What are you doing here, changeling?” he asked, gesturing the cavern. “Why are you near the Crystal Empire?”
“…Is this interrogation?” Changeling (Spike wasn’t sure if it was too late to ask for a name) cocked his head to his left. He seemed to ponder about it for a moment before shrugging and sitting down. “‘Crystal Empire?’ Is that where I am?”
The dragon raised a claw. “Yes. You are in the North, and on the border of the Crystal Empire. Explain why you are here, and—“ Spike struggled to find his words, “—and tell me why you aren’t acting evil!”
Okay, that was a stupid question.
Changeling stilled, unsure how to proceed. Then he began to giggle. Okay, can all changeling be like this? They are infinitely less terrifying.
The soft laugh only lasted for a few seconds. He kicked his hooves into the snow, leaving an awkward silence as he thought.
“I was hungry,” he said finally, sighing. “It's been so long since I’ve had a decent meal…I just felt a lot of emotive energy and followed it here.” He gestured towards the walls. “When I realized there were a lot of ponies, I decided to leave,” he explained in a totally fake (it has to be fake) innocent voice, before adding quietly, “or…at least I tried to leave.”
Spike pinched the bridge of his snout. “That’s doesn’t explain why you aren’t being evil!” His hands waved frantically. “The Canterlot Invasion was terrifying! You can’t just show up and act all…good.”
Wow, great choice of words there, Spike! Wonderful job.
The changeling shifted, looking uncomfortable. He tapped his hooves together. “O-oh. You were…at the invasion?” he asked with a grimace.
“No duh!” Spike leaned forward to scrunch a chunk of snow into a ball, throughout it from hand to hand. Then he thought, a scowl gracing his face. “Were you there?”
Changeling flinched. “Yes, though it wasn’t by choice,” he admitted, cyan eyes turning shamefully to the ground.
“Elaborate.”
“When the Queen wanted to launch the invasion, I had no part in it. I wasn’t even aware of most of the politics going on—I only heard bits and pieces from my brother,” Changeling babbled, seemingly having no idea that the information he was spilling could very well be used against him.
Or maybe he does know and that’s just what he wants you to think, Spike convinced himself.
“—When I was told I was going to be drafted for the invasion, I wasn’t allowed to say no. I am weak, and they had plenty of other changelings already enrolled, so I wasn’t needed. I’m pretty sure my brother only convinced the Queen because he wanted me to prove I was capable of something,” he sighed. He spoke no ill-will towards this brother, mostly he seemed tired and guilty. “I kinda…stood around and didn’t fight anyone? Just the idea of hurting someone was awful and…” Changeling shuddered.
Static noise filled the silence as the bug-horse thought. It was quiet thinking. Sometimes, when Spike walked into Twilight’s study sessions or ran into a peeved-looking Starlight, he could almost hear their thoughts running at one-hundred miles per hour.
But here?
It was just…
Nice?
Cyan eyes lit up as a small, warm smile crept onto his face. “But I did see this group of ponies! They were defending Canterlot against us, and they were so determined.” He looked towards the ceiling, looking thoughtful. “Their friendship was so energized, and it felt wrong to just take it.”
“The ponies you would be talking about is Twilight and the girls,” Spike said instinctively, before frowning at the snow. Might as well give him all the information, he thought to himself, feeling stupid.
Changeling tilted his head. “‘Twilight?’” he parroted. “The Princess of Friendship?”
“Yep.” The drake popped the ‘p.’ Then he narrowed his eyes. “How did you know?”
“I’ve heard of her. The hive said something about a new Princess. I don’t know much about her, though.”
“Uh-huh,” Spike muttered. “I don’t suppose you’ve been told anything else?”
Turns out, yeah! Changeling has been told a lot of things. The importance of the information he was giving was still being weighed in Spike’s mind, but it was really hard to focus when said changeling is still telling stories.
They had strayed away from ‘interrogation’ street and turned onto ‘embarrassing tales’ lane.
“—my brother likes to draw, but we weren’t allowed to, being distracting and all. Didn’t stop him from doing it, but one day our instructor saw a drawing on our wall and asked about it. Pharynx was quick to blame me,” he chuckled, “It was a drawing of a serpent—very detailed, might I add—and the instructed seemed…almost impressed? Not quite, but it was close! I was also known for my ‘big brother and me’ drawings when I was a nymph, so I guess they didn’t question it.”
(Spike needed to hear about those ‘big brother and me’ drawings someday.)
The drake nodded enthusiastically, enjoying himself. “Go on,” he prodded.
“So I was given an architecture assignment. They believed that it would be something of my ‘skill.’” Changeling smiled. It wasn’t like what Spike had seen on most villains. Instead of a crazed, power hungry grin, his smile was bright and cheerful, no hint of evilness could ever be found in it. (Spike, pull yourself together.) “When I told Pharynx, he kinda, sorta, very freaked out about it. Then begged me to let him finish the job for me.”
“Well, that’s one way to get siblings to do work for you,” Spike smirked to himself. He was already thinking of ways he could apply the same tactics with Twilight and Shining.
The changeling snorted, then laughed. “I still got full credit!”
The dragon's suspicions dwindled as time passed on, feeling more and more at ease with the changeling. Changeling had a lot going for him; humor, soft voice, and a shining personality (Spike isn’t sure if he’s exaggerating). He was nothing like what he had expected, and that was relieving.
“Y’know? I didn’t think today of all days I would be making a new friend,” he sighed, grinning. Friends with a changeling? That was a new impossible that Spike managed to achieve.
(Maybe he should tackle Discord next…)
Changeling stiffened, eyes wide. His laugh died in his throat as confusion spread throughout his face. “‘New friend?’” he echoed, as if not believing his own ears.
“Yeah?” Spike frowned, suddenly nervous. “Are we…not friends?”
The changeling tapped his hooves together. “Er…yes? No? I’m not sure.” He looked away. “I’ve never had a friend before.”
“Really? Why not?”
“I’m not useful to my hive. I’m a deserter,” Changeling mumbled. “Ponies fear changelings—I don’t blame them, I would, too. So I never had any friends in or out of the hive.”
That’s depressing, Spike thought. He held out his claw, a symbol of truce. “Well, you can consider me your first friend!”
The bug-horse froze as if his brain stopped working. He blinked a couple of times, disbelief washing away any confusion left.
His hoof began to reach when a booming voice came from above.
“Spike the Brave of Glorious? Are you still there?” one of the guards shouted, concern filling the air. The cyan changeling yelped scampering towards an icy wall to hide.
Spike sighed, looking towards the entrance. “I’ll be up in a minute!” he called, before turning back to Changeling. “Sorry, that’s the search party. We were supposed to be looking for you, but I really don’t want to turn you in.”
(This was awkward.)
Changeling gulped. “Please don’t.”
Spike smiled, holding two thumbs up. “No worries! I’ll put in a good word for you.”
He was about the climb the icy tunnel when he heard the changeling mumbled, “‘Spike the Brave and Glorious?’”
“That’s my title.” The drake puffed out his chest. “All my friends call me ‘Spike’ though.” Stopping, he turned back to look at the hiding newly-acquired friend. “What’s your name?”
The changeling blinked, caught off guard by the question. Then he smiled brightly.
“Thorax. My name is Thorax.”