First Contact
I didn't like the Badlands. Neither did anypony else. The earth ponies said the ground felt dead. My fellow pegasi had concluded that the air felt too dry. And the unicorns just said the whole place felt wrong. They couldn't say why.
We were a motley crew with all species represented, and we weren't alone. Other groups had traveled south with us, but we split into squads once we got into the dust. The goal was to cover a lot of ground.
That's what they'd told us, anyway. Some of the ponies in my squad felt like we were being thrown out as bait - trotting into the place the changelings had called home for Celestia-knows how long and hoping they'd give us an excuse to wipe them out. I didn't buy it. The Princess wouldn't do that. She was a big fan of second chances. I believed command when they said we were envoys in armor - a survey crew.
If there was one word I'd use to describe the Badlands, it would be "dusty." The dust was everywhere, blowing incessantly - sometimes in little eddies, sometimes in huge gusts that felt like they might strip your fur off - and it was impossible to avoid. Even if it wasn't blowing at you right that second, it was blowing somewhere - usually ahead of us - so most of the time, visibility was crap. A few of the unicorns had taken to making bubbles around their heads, but a lot of the time they got them up too late and just ended up breathing recycled, dusty air. The rest of us made do with wet bandanas.
Nopony had said much for the last hour. Usually Prat Fall wouldn't shut up, but he'd stopped cracking jokes after three in a row had fallen flat. It seemed like the world was closing in on us.
When you could only see a swirling wall of dust in every direction, you couldn't quite be sure that anything lay beyond. All you had to go on was your own memory, and plodding along for nine hours into orange oblivion will screw with a pony's head. I remembered home. I was fairly certain the Canterspire was still behind me somewhere, but when I looked back, I just saw dust. I'll only really know it's there when I can see it again.
We had lots of time to think as we walked. I was replaying the week in my head, focusing on the highlights. I landed a kick on a unicorn in a combat drill before we left Canterlot. I've got nothing against unicorns, but landing a kick on a magic user is something to be proud of.
There was even an interesting mare in training for the expedition. Among a hundred other ponies - mostly colts - she stuck out. She was pure white - natural white, which was rare - with a short mane. I think the style is called a bob or something. Whatever it's called, she made it look really nice. Her mane was a shade of blue about halfway between a blueberry and the ocean. Her figure was athletically trim, and she had a decent wingspan, too.
I was hoping I'd get to see her again when we got back to Dodge City. That was the last piece of civilization we'd passed through on our way here. They were building "temporary lodging" for us there. I'm told that the buildings are not barracks. I guess the Princess doesn't want to frighten any changelings who might have a newspaper subscription. Barracks? Whatever do you mean? This is just the building where my troops happen to sleep.
I can see her point, but a mass of troops is a mass of troops. You can wrap a sword in ribbons and bows, but it'll still kill somepony.
Anyway, I'm hoping our squads get the same orders in Dodge, whether that's to go home or stay in the sticks. I really wanted to talk to her again, especially after our odd introduction.
In training, I was sparring with an earth pony and he had some kind of muscle spasm. He froze up and I socked him right in the face. Neither of us was expecting that. I totally expected him to roll with it and take it on the shoulder, given the timing. That's why I figured going full strength was alright, but clearly something went wrong. He went down hard, moaning and breathing funny.
I was freaking out, thinking I might have given him brain damage or something, and suddenly the gorgeous white mare I'd been staring at all morning showed up and started asking him where it hurt. I asked if she was a medic - it would've been odd, since most medics tend to be packing a horn - and she said her mother was a nurse.
A small crowd gathered, and I was praying that an officer wouldn't show up to give me an unpleasant chore for overdoing the kick. I kept apologizing to the guy and explaining to the ponies who'd shown up to gawk that I could have sworn he was going to roll, but after a minute the mare poked me in the flank and said he'd be fine. She leaned toward me for a private word. "I think he's overreacting a bit." She was so close that I caught a whiff of her mane. It smelled like rain.
She spoke up so that the crowd could hear her. "He might have a cracked jaw. Maybe less. It might just be a bruise." She turned to the injured pony and shooed him toward a medical tent, telling him to get some ice and saltines. That was how they typically solved anything short of a stab wound.
I guess I looked sufficiently guilty when she faced me again, because she gave me a big, reassuring smile and told me that the guy I hit was the frailest earth pony she'd ever seen. I laughed and thanked her for helping him out. It didn't seem right to thank her for keeping me out of trouble. Maybe it would've been fine - I don't know. But she told me to save my lethal hooves for the changelings, winked, and ran off to rejoin her group - I guess they'd been doing laps.
Anyway, when she winked, I finally noticed her eyes.
They were straight up gold. Not just yellow. Yellow doesn't shine like that.
So, of course, she's been stuck in my head since. I actually don't remember much of the week after that. I was disappointed when she ended up in a different squad, but at least I got the occasional glimpse of her before the convoy split at the mouth of the Badlands.
I tried to be discreet about my distant admiration, but Lancer noticed. He was one of the pegasi in my squad, and - lucky for me - an OK guy, if a bit of a worrier. He was cool about it and promised not to tell the rest of the guys about my fixation. It might have had something to do with time I'd helped him recover a certain prized photograph somepony had taken from his bunk. Anyway, he told me her name was Squall.
Pretty name. And it was especially fitting for a mare who showed up unexpectedly and smelled like rain.
"So, does anypony else think we're screwed if we have to fight these things on their turf?" Lancer asked, his eyes perpetually looking for movement.
"We're not here to fight, gents. Command has made that abundantly clear. If one of you gits picks a fight with a changeling, you're on your own." Solid Ground decreed. He was an earth pony and our squad leader. He had a Trottingham accent, and we teased him for it when we were feeling brave.
"But what if they start something?" Lancer entreated.
"Then I expect we'll be 'defending ourselves in a way that minimizes injury to both sides.'" Solid Ground decreed, likely parroting a line he got from command.
"I heard they spit acid." Somepony muttered.
"We should be so lucky." Lancer scoffed. "If they can transform into anything, that includes dragons. I bet they can spit fire."
"Forget spitting. I heard they swallow!" Prat Fall interjected. He was a unicorn and the class clown. There were scattered guffaws from the party. Even Solid Ground couldn't help but smirk at the joke. Bawdy changeling jokes were the new frontier of humor, and Prat Fall would be damned if he left that frontier unexplored.
"That's enough." Solid protested half-heartedly, still smiling. "I'm not worried. If we get into trouble, we'll throw Prat Fall at them as a love offering." He chuckled. That got even more laughs than the swallowing comment.
Really, we weren't coming unprepared. We had a contingency plan, and I was actually pretty impressed with it. The eggheads at command are pretty sure that a changeling has to see somepony to mimic their appearance. Makes sense to me. So what happens if we run into a bunch of them and they decide to mimic all of us? Mass confusion, right?
That's where the stealth unicorns come in. They've been on the wagon the whole time, under a tarp with our water supply. They haven't seen the sun since the last time I saw grass. And that means anything watching us hasn't seen them either. If we get confused and we're worried that somepony's a fake - or everypony's a fake - we all lie down and yell the code phrase as loud as we can. The unicorns pop out, they look at whoever's still standing, and they use the disguise breaker spell on them. Crisis averted, hopefully. I know I couldn't come up with anything better.
Soon the sun began to dip low. After consulting with the navigator, a nearly-silent, prickly unicorn called North Star, Solid Ground gave the order to make camp for the night.
The pegasi were tasked with surveying the land from above and making sure we weren't near any dangerous landforms or on the doorstep of a changeling nest. I took off to the southeast, looking for shapes in the dust below. It was kind of nice to be off my hooves for a while. The air was clearer the further I got from the ground, and I actually lowered the crude dust filter from my muzzle for the first time in several hours to suck down some fresh air.
I saw something on the ground through the dust - a silhouette. I came in for a landing, keeping the shadow at a distance. Here on the ground, I noticed that it was sleek and smaller than me - mare-sized. It reminded me of somepony, but I couldn't think who. "Who is that?" There was no reply. "Say something." I demanded. The wind whistled by, but she didn't speak.
The last mare I saw was Squall, and that was a hundred miles ago. This wasn't a pony.
"I'm with the Equestrian Royal Guard. We are not here to harm you. We bring greetings from Princess Celestia. Equestria wishes for peace with the changelings." I opened my can of standard-issue diplomacy and waited for a reply I knew wouldn't come. I started to shiver, even though the wind was warm. We didn't belong here. I'd never wanted to be home so much in my life.
Suddenly, she showed herself. One moment she was a dark blur, and the next she was standing there, clear as day. It was like the dust had been a veil over a doorway and she'd just... stepped through. My jaw actually dropped. I'm not sure if the wind took it or if the sight of her knocked it out of me, but suddenly I was out of breath.
It was a light blue pegasus with a long, white-blonde mane. No, that must have been a trick of the dust. Her mane was short and snow-white. She was frightened, but stunning. She was also a changeling. I had forgotten that for an instant. She just... surprised me. "I know what you are." I reminded her.
She didn't seem to care. She just looked... forlorn. Like she'd lost her way a thousand miles from home and had nopony to help her. If this had been a real mare, I would have reached out to her by now, but this was different. This was an act - it had to be.
"I'm not here to hurt you." For some reason it came out as more of a soothing reassurance than a statement of fact. She took a step toward me. My wings rustled uncertainly, a compromise between my instinct to extend them in warning and my strange desire not to spook her.
Instead of fear, she seemed to react with disappointment - or was it shame? She stopped and averted her eyes from me, her lower lip quivering as though she were about to cry. It was an act. Changelings act to survive. Maybe sympathy can sustain them, too? Either way, she wasn't getting any from me.
Then she looked me in the eyes. They were the most gorgeous shade of gold, and so, so, sad. OK, I think she got some sympathy out of me. I noticed I was standing a bit closer to her than I had been a moment ago, but I was sure she hadn't moved. That was troubling, though not as troubling as the look of long-drawn hunger the pink mare (had she always been pink?) with the yellow mane... pink and... yellow.
I blinked.
"Sunny?" I asked in disbelief. Sunny Fields, the world's hottest foalsitter, smiled radiantly at me from beneath those gorgeous sunshine-yellow locks of hers. She hadn't aged a day.
Changeling. She's a changeling. I hadn't seen Sunny since elementary school, so of course... she hasn't aged a day. She gently held out a hoof, inviting me to give her a proper greeting.
She'd always been so kind to me. How could I refuse? I mean, she came all this way. I nuzzled her like I had as a foal. Back then, I'd only come up to her chest. Now, we were cheek-to-cheek. I drew back and bashfully averted my eyes - she'd always had that effect on me - but in my periphery I noticed something strange. I raised a hoof to her face, and she eagerly pressed herself into my touch. I idly caressed her cheek while I tried to identify the problem with the beautiful picture in front of me.
"Your eyes." I realized. "They're different." They were gold, just like her hair. I couldn't remember what color Sunny's eyes were, but they hadn't always been gold. She actually seemed to react (though she was being unusually quiet - I'd never seen her go this long without talking), raising a hoof to her chin and thoughtfully staring into my eyes. Yes, gold was definitely wrong. Pretty, but wrong.
It was hard to hold something like that against Snow Rose, though.
I remember breaking up with her for being very unreasonable about something, though after this many years, I couldn't remember exactly what that was. My thoughts still drifted to her occasionally, and I certainly wasn't unhappy to see her. I was surprised she'd kept that pure white coat of hers (her best feature, I always thought) so clean out here, though it suddenly occurred to me that the wind had died down. That might have been a factor.
"I miss you sometimes." I admitted. She smiled softly, closed her golden eyes and leaned in to kiss me. Apparently she'd missed me too. When our lips met, my reasons for leaving her seemed even less distinct than they'd been just moments before. I rushed to bury my nose in that long, crimson mane I loved so much, but I only met air.
I opened my eyes. Instead of Rose's long, fiery red tresses, I saw a short crop of blue, and my next breath smelled like rain. Where was Rose?
I had the most terrible feeling I'd done something wrong, but then two amazing, familiar golden eyes threw the light of a Badlands sunset back at me, and Squall gave me that same reassuring smile she'd given me back in Canterlot.
Something about her eyes seemed very right, and I kissed her desperately, as though she were some kind of illusion that might vanish with the next gust of wind. It was an odd thought, but I guess I was still surprised to see her again so soon. One of the navigators must have screwed up. The details didn't matter. I ceased all other thought and poured everything into the kiss.
After quite a while, she broke the kiss, panting as though she'd galloped the whole way here, and forcefully nuzzled my neck. I actually had to take a step back to avoid falling over. The way she pushed her cheek into my shoulder was just... fierce. It's like the kiss wasn't enough contact for her. I got the impression that she would have jumped into my skin if she could have.
Just as quickly as she'd attacked my neck, she was back on my lips, her tongue waging war with mine. I barely had time to blink. I tried to give as good as I got, but her movements were so hungry and urgent that I couldn't keep up. It reminded me of stunlock combat - don't give them even an instant to think, and never stop moving. I'd never met a mare who kissed like she was fighting for survival. She was relentless, and I loved it.
It suddenly occurred to me that she hadn't said a word since she found me. I didn't imagine that she was usually this quiet - I'd been looking forward to talking to her again, after all. But, given the circumstances, I couldn't complain.
While I'd been lost in thought, she disconnected from my face with a faint squelching sound and took a step back from me. Then, she extended her wings. Oh my. There were really only three reasons to raise your wings without using them: You were either working out kinks, showing off, or inviting somepony to touch them. She smirked confidently, trailing a wingtip over my cheek in a way that made me shiver. That'll be options two and three, then.
I accepted her generous offer, nosing my way beneath the wing closest to me and nuzzling right under the socket. Some pegasi liked that, and it appeared she was one of them. I could feel her body quivering as I kissed and bit the sturdy but sleek muscles around the base of her wing, working my way back to uncover new territory. My lips had hopped, skipped, and slurped their way to her flank, and my hooves joined the party, conducting a topographical survey of the region.
If I'm lucky enough to spend time with a mare, I feel it's important to be thorough. Thoroughness has never gotten a complaint.
Though she seemed to have been enjoying my explorations, she stepped just out of reach, swaying her hips seductively. My eyes confirmed what my hooves and lips had led me to suspect - her plot was absolutely perfect, just like the rest of her. You might think that "perfect" just implies an absence of flaws, but this was something else. If a statue were commissioned to commemorate the equine form, preserving it in stone so that future civilizations would know what beauty used to look like, she'd be the model.
Something tickled my nose and I blinked rapidly, stunned out of my haze. She had brushed her tail over my face, and I caught a hint of the shampoo she'd used when she last showered in Canterlot, though it was buried in a strong but not unpleasant wave of feminine sweat. The combination made my head swim. Anyway, the tail swipe was a pretty clear invitation, and I saw no reason to deny her any longer.
I reared back to mount her, but I was delighted to find that I'd been the victim of a playful ruse. Less than a second after my front hooves had left the ground, she had me pinned, belly-up in the dirt. She'd knocked the wind out of me, but I really couldn't stay mad at her when she was straddling me, swishing her silky tail over my erection and practically blowing steam into my ear. I felt like I was losing the encounter, but given the chance, I wouldn't have changed a thing.
I reached behind her neck, directing her into a kiss, which she eagerly returned. I used the opportunity to roll her onto her back, effectively switching places. I pressed myself against her entrance while I peppered her neck with little kisses. I felt feathers on my cock - she'd wiggled a wing free and was gently using it to push me closer to her marehood. The playing was nice, but now we were in agreement. No more waiting. I found my target and, with almost no effort, slid partway inside.
I was struck positively stupid by the way she felt. I wasn't even a quarter of the way inside, and Squall's body was already taking me to new heights. She was softer and tighter than any mare I'd ever felt, and I got completely lost in her. I don't know how long I spent there, zonked out in the foyer, so to speak, but I was brought back to reality by the tight, welcoming embrace of her forehooves. Right. There was work to be done. I was just about to get to it when I once again found myself on my back. It seemed she'd gotten a little impatient again.
We'd decoupled when Squall had pushed me off of her with a mighty snap of her wings, but she wasted no time in impaling herself again now that she had the upper hoof. This wasn't the way most ponies did the face-to-face thing, though with her peculiar strength, she easily made it work.
What then ensued was a battle for dominance, each of us trying to push the other over the edge of ecstasy. I'd call it a tie, since we both won. In the end, she bit my neck, I gave her several especially rough thrusts in appreciation, and we both tumbled over the edge together. She didn't make a sound as she came - she just held me closer while she rode it out.
After we caught our breath, we shared a long, lazy kiss. It was all I could manage since my muscles hardly worked, but she didn't complain. When we came up for air, we had the typical bedroom eyes staring contest. She was so damn gorgeous, and more fun than I'd ever had in my life.
"Would you wanna go out with me some time?" I asked.
She threw her head back and laughed, and I realized it was the first sound I'd heard from her since we spoke in Canterlot.
It was strange - like the laugh I heard wasn't hers. It didn't sound like I expected, but it was certainly genuine. She seemed very amused at how we'd done the whole courtship thing a bit backwards. I could see her point, once I thought about it. I chuckled awkwardly while I waited for her to regain her composure. She didn't leave me hanging long, though. She stood up, and I followed as quickly as my fatigued body would allow. She closed her eyes and moved in for another kiss, which I gladly returned.
As it turned out, it was a goodbye kiss.
There was a gust of wind against my lips and the sound of pumping wings, and I opened my eyes to find her airborne. I tried to give chase, but my takeoff was weak due to my wobbly legs. Squall receded into the dust as a shadow, then disappeared entirely. The bad takeoff had cost me valuable seconds, and I lost her. I shook my head in disbelief as I hovered in the dark haze. I knew she was feisty, but I couldn't believe she could fly that well right after rutting.
I fully intended to give her crap for rutting and running when we got back to Dodge. Maybe a spanking. She might be the type to appreciate those.
I heard somepony yelling below me. "I really like you, but you're not going to tell anypony, right?" I recognized the voice - it was Lancer, and he sounded even more worried than usual. I came in for a landing in front of him.
"Oh, it's you." He seemed equal parts relieved and disappointed. Then his eyes widened. What was he so worried about this-
"Oh." My eyes popped as it all hit me at once. The strange, frightened mare whose fear had disarmed me. Sunny, my foalhood fantasy. Rose, the last pony I'd loved. And the unforgettable Squall, whom I hardly knew. They hadn't been real. They'd all been the same changeling. I knew it was a changeling from the start, but I just... forgot. How the hell did I forget?
"I think... I think I met a changeling." Lancer cocked his head uncertainly, biting his lip and averting his eyes.
"Me too." I sighed. "I think we've been had."
"I'm pretty sure I was just 'had.'" Lancer muttered worriedly. "And I'm not sure whether that counted as cheating."
"Hey, it wasn't your fault. She messed with your head, didn't she?" He nodded vehemently. "I'll vouch for you if you have to tell your marefriend." I reassured him. "So, who-" I began, but he interrupted me.
"Shining Armor's wife." He grimly announced.
"Wow." I didn't quite know what to do with that. Lancer just nodded with wide, unfocused eyes. "Understandable." I conceded. She had quite a figure. "I won't tell."
"Thanks." He sighed with relief. "What about you?"
"Squall. Among others." I replied distractedly. It all felt so real. But Squall still didn't even know my name.
We started walking in the direction we thought we'd come from. It was dark now aside from a hazy half-moon and the dim orange glow of what we were hoping was our encampment. "I think I'm going to ask her out." I mused aloud.
"Good." Lancer nodded distractedly. He was trying to be supportive, though he still looked deeply concerned over what he'd just done.
Eventually, we found the wagon and most of the squad. It looked like we weren't the only ones who'd made "contact" with the changelings. The hidden unicorns I hadn't seen all day were casting disguise breaker spells left and right, though no changelings were revealed - just one confused stallion after another, wondering if it had all been a dream.
Nopony was saying much. I saw Solid Ground standing on the wagon, staring pensively off into the darkness with a frown.
Lancer and I held still for our obligatory disguise check. The unicorn cast the spell but didn't say a word. Instead he silently yielded to us before retaking his place in the perimeter. I think he'd long since abandoned any expectation of finding a real changeling among us.
Suddenly, Prat Fall came galloping joyously into camp from the north. "Guys! You'll never guess what I just did!"
"I wouldn't be so sure about that." The unicorn nearest to him scoffed while casting the disguise breaker. Prat Fall came up clean.
The offbeat response caused the perpetual joker to look around in confusion, and he finally noticed the strange air of embarrassment coupled with post-coital bliss hanging over the party.
"Oh, come on!" He stomped a hoof in frustration. "Did all of you just rut the Princess?" He demanded petulantly.
Solid Ground cleared his throat nervously. "Which one?"