Young Love Is The Tastiest

It took Carapace far longer than she had fallen asleep next to her broodmare, and that she had passed the night before thinking about tangential and accomplishing nothing she had set out to do. She had procedures she wanted to do to make sure her eggs were doing well in pony body, even unfertilized.

Groaning, she got on her legs and stretched her limbs, wings and all. While she had managed to find a pillow to rest her head on that still left her back with no support, and she immensely regretted not going back with Sterling when she felt sleep take hold. While her legs were fine, her neck was killing her, and it wasn't as if laying on her side did her left wing any favors.

But, this was a new day, and a new day meant plenty of time.

As she brushed herself off, she took a quick look at Buttercream. The bloated mare looked even morso, with light coming in the room from the windows. Her thighs were both wider than Carapace's own torso, for one.

After a quick examination, though, Carapace concluded that the mare was fat and asleep and, most importantly, healthy, given by how she was breathing unlabored and sleeping gently. Carapace couldn't be more pleased at choosing the yellow mare; she was practically built for bearing children before she even laid a hoof on her, and a less robust pony, like the pegasus, would probably have unfortunate complications about having two dozen or so baseball-sized eggs crammed up her midsection.

Humming lightly in approval, she patted the round tummy of the sleeping mare, marveled at the drum-like tautness, and left the room to check on her other two ponies.

Cloud Chaser was asleep, on one of the couches that lined the center of the room. While Carapace didn't tell her to move off the floor earlier, she was somewhat glad that she slept on a soft surface, given that she already looked a little pregnant.

While her mind was on the topic of pregnancy, Carapace decided to re-check the food she had brought with her. Most of the actual meals she had prepared had long since been consumed, either by Buttercream or Sterling. However, she had snuck in a survivalist's supply of canned goods and nutritional powders, which she had amassed after walking into a grocery store and pretending to be the manager. The one of most interest to her was a huge container that contained a protein powder that was marketed to female athletes, which contained plenty of nutritional value and calories but no testosterone. Besides that, large bags of alfalfa and oatstraw laid about like bundles of health.

There was all this, of course, but the oddest thing in the room, if she would have to explain herself to a inquisitive pony, would be the big brass food pump that was set down on the floor, a vat-like structure with a glass midsection and a soft plastic funnel that could be strapped to a pony's face.

The food pump was a genuine relic, one that she had obtained in a clandestine auction. Several decades ago, one of the griffon governments had to limit the amount of farm-raised cattle they were allowed to consume, apparently relating to how cows were getting more rights in Equestria. The griffon reaction to this, in typical griffon efficiency, was to craft a way for them to put as much meat on the now limited amount of cattle as possible. The cows who were raised on pumps like this, as it was told, ended up becoming twice the size of their ancestors.

Equestria quickly cracked down on the griffon's trickery and ended the industrial production of cowflesh in that little kingdom, but all that meant was that things like the one she had obtained were let loose on the market.

It did cost her a pretty penny, but it was going to be quite worth the investment.

She considered waking up the pegasus mare so that she could strap it on her, but, after the first wave of giddiness to try it out, she thought against it. She could do that later, because she needed to talk to the stallion anyhow. Besides, she would need something to do in the evening, after she got Thunderlane squared away.

The day before, she hadn't gotten through to the stallion; he was stubborn in his unwillingness to consider his new reality. She was forced to put him under a spell at the end, because she had to deal with Cloud Chaser. Now, though, she had all the time in the world.

By the looks of it, though, she was going to need it.

She had left him glued a foot or so off the floor, limbs spread wide across the wall and asleep, but now he was awake and trying to struggle against his bonds. His zebra-styled mane had long since been matted down to his head due to sweat and the position of his head, and there was a certain amount of redness around his eyes.

Carapace felt the slightest twang of pity for the stallion; all she had got out of him during her first talk with him was questions about Cloud Chaser's safety and status. She wasn't quite so cruel as to transform into the mare and lead him on into making a certifiable choice; if she was that cruel, she wouldn't allow him to make such a choice in the first place. Regardless, she did consider eventually waking up the sleeping mare, if she needed to make a example.

When she stepped into the half-lit room, Thunderlane paused his thrashing. His head wasn't raised, but she didn't doubt that he could see her hooves, at least.

"Where's Cloud Chaser." he groaned weakly.

Carapace winced; he sounded so sad.

"She made her choice, and she is asleep and happy," she replied, trying to keep her tone even as the stallion scowled at her answer, "but let's talk about your options right now."

"Fuck you." Thunderlane spat.

Carapace blinked. She opened her mouth for a few moments to say something, but she couldn't think of anything that was a suitable reply for quite some time.

"I," she eventually said, slowly and pointedly, "have your best interests at heart."

She raised a hoof close to his forehead, and brushed a strand of light blue hair away from his eyes. He flinched as she did this; she understood why, on a intellectual level, but it still made her slightly annoyed.

"You..." Thunderlane began, before shaking his head and rolling his eyes defiantly, "You have my best interests at heart."

Carapace shrugged, unsure of what else she could say.

"Why, yes."

"So you kidnapped me and my marefriend, tied us up, and gave us the choice between turned into changelings or being your slaves." he stated bluntly, eyebrows raised.

"Thralls." Carapace corrected, feeling that the terminology was important enough to make the distinction, "I made it clear that you would not be a slave."

Thunderlane stared at her, seemingly dumbfounded, and began to shook his head in exasperation.

"You're crazy if you think anypony would want to be your, uh, thrall, or get turned into a changeling, especially after you kidnapped them and drug them up with spells." he said, surprisingly calm. His eyes were clear and focused; Carapace was pleased, but wary, now that he was talking in a normal manner.

Carapace, accordingly, took a deep breath and clicked her tongue.

"Walk me through this." she asked as politely as she could muster to the pegasus who she glued to the wall, "I keep hearing that, but I don't know where you are coming from, and I would believe I wouldn't be doing my best if I didn't understand your total reluctance."

Thunderlane looked stunned yet again, and Carapace worried for a few moments that he wasn't going to speak at all, until he finally did.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

She shrugged. "I understand that it might seem strange or scary, but all big changes seem that way. Becoming a changeling, or serving in a hive, could only benefit you. Your needs would be cared for, regardless."

She had already explained to him her own motives, about her princesshood and everything, and she hoped that he took that into account in his own thoughts.

When he replied, his voice was flat. "If being in a changeling hive is so great, then why didn't the one who attacked Canterlot just set up shop nearby and sell it like a traveling salespony? I don't see any lines of ponies trying to get all buggy."

Carapace frowned at being called 'buggy', but she was also relatively upset at the stallions sharp point. For a jock-ish athletic sort, he was being a suspiciously good talker.

"I will give you," she allotted the stallion with a small nod, "that my people have never been good with their public relations. However, the queen who attacked Canterlot was a warmonger who was acting out of line."

"So if it was a different changeling, then it would be all sunshine and rainbows." Thunderlane snarked, "No invasions or nothing. Just mind controlling and kidnappings."

Carapace grimaced. "Please understand, I am not like the one that attacked Canterlot. Chrysalis merely wished to raid Canterlot, stay a month or so, and then flee with captives and plunder. I intend on staying here, and to be a benevolent changeling ruler."

Thunderlane snorted.

"If you want to put yourself on a high pedestal and be the nicest changeling that ever lived, why haven't you talked to the Princesses?"

Carapace blinked.

"Are you mad?" she said, unsure if her words had any truth to them, "Why would I ever ask for the attention of the alicorns? What could even be accomplished by that? I have not make my way into Canterlot undetected to be sent before four immortals who would all have the chance to punish me for the actions of Chrysalis."

"Uh, I'm talking about just giving up now." Thunderlane spoke quickly and eagerly, "Cleaning your hooves and telling the Princesses what you have done."

Carapace blinked, again, and for a few moments wondered if keeping the stallion in a dark room for a day hurt his mental state. It was said that Tartarus was like solitary confinement, after all, not the other way around.

"What would that possibly accomplish?" she demanded, prodding the stallion in the chest with a sharp hoof, not hard enough to bleed but hard enough to bruise. "I will not tolerate foolishness."

"Look, the spirit of chaos that ruled the world for ten thousand years got redeemed after the last time he broke out, and ponies are still wondering why Celestia did it." Thunderlane half-sputtered, like a bubbling brook of good ideas, "You keep talking about changeling magic and other stuff like that, but most ponies don't really know anything about changelings. Heck, from what you said, most changelings don't know much about themselves."

He paused, to breathe.

"So, basically, if you just go to them and talk to them and pretty much say that you're the changeling equivalent of Twilight Sparkle, I'm sure that something could get worked out." he finished, sounding exhausted.

Carapace thought on the pony's words. They were reasonable, and the thinking was sound. Discord was 'redeemed' under Celestia's eyes, and Celestia was arguably the one pony who could personally loath such a creature. The thought of simply going into the castle under her assumed name, requesting a audience, and explaining herself did have a certain appeal to it. She would have to explain herself, certainly, especially with the kidnapping and pretending to be a member of nobility, but there was a slim chance that she could make it out alive, and with all of her limbs.

But she had gone too far, already. By the look Thunderlane was now giving her, he seemed to know that his words were not going to sway her.

Now, not in the mood for talking about herself, she felt that she had a opening to talk about him.

"If it makes you feel any better, Cloud Chaser kept asking for you." she said softly, trying to sound appealing, "If you behave, I have no issues with you seeing her."

Thunderlane's face transformed into a pleading grimace.

"Where is she?" he asked again, for the umpteenth time that day.

Carapace knew that the stallion likely simply wished to be let free from his binds, but she also respected him, to a extent. He truly did love the mare, and she loved him, but the shear pleading urge to make sure Cloud Chaser was okay was palpable.

"She is right outside this room, along with others. There's also another stallion, who is now a changeling."

Thunderlane only looked somewhat surprised at her words, but elected to not reply.

Carapace, thinking over things, raised a leg and began to quickly cut through her self-made bindings at his legs, occasionally motioning for the stallion to move slightly every so often. It was surreally calm and seemingly ordinary, at least for herself. Thunderlane looked slightly squeamish about the whole thing, but Carapace thought that was understandable.

Eventually, Thunderlane was free from his binds, and on the floor on all fours. His wings were still bound, but he did not complain, likely because he was not a fool.

However, neither was Carapace, and the moment that Thunderlane looked as if he had gotten used the ground she looked him right in the eye's and cast the same mind-control spell that she was getting distressingly familiar with on him.

He managed to resist it for a few moments, enough to looked shocked for all of a few seconds, but he fell for it all the same. His newly relaxed face calmed Carapace slightly, but her mind wandered even then.

He was a good looking stallion, having that slim and sturdy build that made the royal guard so popular among the mares. Normally, she wasn't one to even consider indulging in things like sex, but now, really, she didn't see why she shouldn't.

Besides, she considered as she led him into the main room, she needed something entertaining to occupy the morning hours anyhow.