Twilight Sparkle Becomes a Changeling Queen, Book 2: Twilight Sparkle Defends Her Hive

by bahatumay

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Griffons, Sex, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Changelings
Length: 23864

Twilight Sparkle is now a changeling queen. At least, she's supposed to be.

Twilight Sparkle is a changeling queen. She has found herself back at the old hive, with old memories... and new opportunities. She brings a new, more pony perspective to changeling problems; and she's very excited to experiment at finding new solutions with the help of her willing and eager subjects.

But some things do not change. A queen must also defend her subjects from any who would do them harm...

Set after season three.

Published 2016-07-13 15:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-06-03 22:08:02 UTC

Chapter 1

Twilight swallowed bile as she scanned the caves. The rocky floor was dusty, spiderwebs covered the corners near the ceilings, the green lighting panels were dull and most were completely depleted of magic, and the occasional starved changeling was scattered randomly across the ground. It was clear that their first order of business would be to clean the hive.

She glanced back at the horde of changelings behind her. They looked to her for guidance, trusting her to make a decision for all of them. It was a daunting burden; one she wasn't sure she was ready for yet.

Still, she had formed her checklist, and she knew where to start. First, shelter; second, supplies; third, growth. She turned towards the changelings pulling the cart. “Piquis. Sira. Ithir. Take the nymphs somewhere protected and safe.”

As the cart started moving, she glanced back. “Jarret. Hrit. Follow them, make sure the young ones are fed. Then report to me how much love we have left and how long it will last.”

Jarret saluted and shuffled off, his swollen abdomen swaying as he walked.

She turned towards Bruch. She leaned down. “Changelings bury their dead, right?” she whispered.

Bruch nodded.

Twilight looked back at the changelings. Most appeared to be exhausted, barely awake on their hooves. She exhaled. “I can’t give that order now,” she murmured. Doing so might actually increase the body count. She turned to address them all. “My little… changelings,” she said, her voice catching only slightly on the different word. “It’s been a long trip for all of us. Return to your rooms and sleep. We will begin working tomorrow.”

Her changelings murmured their thanks and a few odd words of praise as they dispersed. Bruch remained by her side.

Twilight exhaled. “I still can’t believe we’re back here,” she said, looking around. “Last time I was here, I was running for my life.”

Bruch cracked a weak smile. “We’re all fighting for our lives, now. I don’t know how much love Jarret has, but it isn’t enough.”

“It’s never enough, is it,” Twilight murmured, not even needing to form it as a question.

Bruch shook his head.

Twilight nodded resolutely. “It’s now my responsibility. I won’t let the hive down, Bruch. I swear it.”

Bruch looked away and murmured something that sounded like ‘wish that were true’.

This, of course, did nothing but intensify Twilight’s resolve to succeed. “Bruch, get some sleep,” she ordered. “I’ll need your help in the morning.”

“Yes, Princess.” Bruch bowed and departed.

As soon as he vanished out of sight around a corner, Twilight sank to her haunches and exhaled slowly. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t quite have a set plan for guiding the changelings. Once her integration idea had been shot down, she had to start thinking like a changeling. And a changeling she was not.

Not yet, anyway.

Twilight kneaded at her eyes, eyes that had irises that had already begun changing to be more green. If she were completely honest with herself, she would have admitted that she could already see fairly well in the near-darkness of the hive. Her pupils were probably already turning into slits.

Thankfully, Jarret soon returned, giving her a much-needed diversion. He bowed. “At our current survival rations, we’ve got enough for about three days. More if we feed just the nymphs.”

Twilight exhaled. “Thank you,” she said. She had much to learn about changeling metabolism. How much did they actually need to eat? How efficient was harvesting?

How could she provide for her changelings?

Twilight shook her head. She could work on that later, when she was rested.

Jarret scuffed a hoof. “Is there anything else, Princess?”

Twilight shook her head. Jarrett turned to leave.

Actually…

“Wait. Jarret, there is one thing. Did Chrysalis have a sort of queen’s chambers?”

Jarret nodded.

“Could you take me there?”

* * *

Twilight slowly entered the hallway that Jarret had indicated. Chrysalis' chambers had been carved out in the center of the hive, probably for her own protection. Twilight could remember seeing no other doors down here, and nothing like the door made of wrought iron and wood at the end of this hallway. Even from this far away, she could tell that it had been intricately carved. All along the walls, there were dead and dying glowpanels (changelings did not care much for fire) and portraits of previous changeling queens. At least, they might have been; Twilight lit her horn to recharge the glowpanels and under that light she saw that they seemed to have been destroyed by magic blasts, which had left deep, angry gouges in the rock. Twilight pursed her lips as she passed. Her portrait would by rights be along this wall, too.

She arrived at the end of the hallway, and turned back to nod her thanks to Jarret. He bowed and departed.

Twilight tapped on the door, but of course, there was no answer. It wasn't likely that Chrysalis had trapped it, but it was an option. With slight trepidation, Twilight lit her horn and pushed it open.

Twilight was not entirely sure what to expect, but she hadn't expected this. Remnants of Shining Armor were all over the room. His likeness was painted on the wall, the outline of his cutie mark was etched into the floor, and a little stone statue of him rested on one of her tables.

Twilight bit her lower lip. During the fight with Chrysalis, she was more concerned with staying alive than anything else; but now she began to wonder. Had Chrysalis truly cared for her brother? She felt a small twinge of guilt. Not that anything could have happened, of course—he was quite happily married to a wonderful mare—but still. It almost had an element of romantic tragedy.

She hesitated as she looked down, but then shook her head. This was her room, now; her queen’s chambers. By rights, she owned everything in it. She stepped further into the room. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea how changelings slept; but she doubted they could all sleep like this. Chrysalis's four-poster bed was huge, with translucent green curtains hanging from the carved posts. The covers looked thick and plush, and she found herself drawn to it. Feeling her exhaustion catch up with her, she stepped forward and gently moved the curtains aside, ready to collapse.

She froze. She recognized that sensation.

This wasn't a curtain. This was slime.

Now very much awake, she retracted her hoof as quickly as if she had been bitten. She desperately shook her hoof out, nearly hyperventilating.

Then she took a steadying breath. No. I am the leader of the changelings. This is a part of life for them. A natural process. Purely scientific. And someday I might be making this myself. I will not be disgusted. I will treat it with simple scientific professionalism.

Twilight paused.

She scuffed a hoof against the ground and coughed.

Then she spun around. “On second thought, there's just so much to explore in this room,” she said airily. “I can sleep later.”

There wasn’t much more to the room, Twilight discovered. Being a queen meant you got a large room with a large bed, but aside from the huge mirror (which she avoided) and the ornately-carved desk, there wasn’t much else in here. There was also a trunk with a substantial amount of bits in it, but that was about it. For a few moments, Twilight wondered if she would be able to find anything to distract her in here.

And then, underneath the bed, she found a journal. It was written in a flowing script, jagged but definitely regal. Chrysalis’s diary.

She stared at the book for a good minute or two before her curiosity overcame her reluctance. She opened the diary and began to read.

Day one. This plan is perfect.

Twilight chuckled dryly. She skipped to the next entry.

Day two. Already I wonder at this pony I am to ensnare. Shining Armor of the Royal Guard is not fit to rule. He is an ignorant simpleton, cares too much about his physical appearance and ridiculous manecare products, and is far too kind to be an effective prince. One must rule with an iron hoof. I am beginning to doubt the necessity of personally coming and replacing Mi Amore Cadenza.

Twilight was mildly disturbed, but continued reading, unable to tear her eyes away.

Day three. I am beginning to see why Mi Amore Cadenza fell for this fool. He is indeed as simple as I had expected, but he is full of love and honor and goodness. Gag me, right?
Day four. It is done. Mi Amore Cadenza resides in the caves beneath Canterlot and I have taken her place. It was far too easy.
Day five. Shining Armor has become suspicious. Stallions are so easy to manipulate, though. I merely distracted him with a simple tail-wave (reflected in the suit of armor behind me, of course), and was able to cast the spell on him without him even noticing. What a fool.

Twilight bared her teeth and kept reading.

Day six. I hear the whispers in the hallways. Apparently, the poor princess is under a lot of stress right now. Some have even wondered if I should just get mounted, but it is far too late for that. Shining won't remember doing it, though. He and his stuffy sense of honor meant I had to expend the energy for a memory-wiping spell as well as the manipulation spell, but the return was well worth the investment. He has introduced me to the concept of anal sex, which is somewhat of a taboo in this culture. Ponies are weird, with all their holes. Nothing like the streamlined integrated systems of a changeling. And don’t get me started on this concept of a penis. It’s a thick, unwieldy rod of flesh that-

At this point, Twilight couldn't continue, and slammed the book shut. No longer did she feel much sympathy for the former queen. Instead, she felt like she needed to take a cold shower.

Which was good; it was probable that magical water heating was a foreign luxury out here. That would be another thing she would look into. She looked around her room and sighed. Maybe Chrysalis never bathed.

And she was going to sleep in the same bed.

She cast a cleaning spell on the bed, letting it run for twice as long as it usually required. Once she felt marginally more secure, she lifted the slime curtains high out of the way enough that she could get in and crawled in.

It was a strange sensation, sleeping in someone else’s bed. But Chrysalis had apparently enjoyed the finer things of life; these covers were soft and must have been made with the finest materials, and the mattress felt like the ones at the castle.

Wait. Did she…?

No…

She slid out of bed and lit her horn once more, flipping the mattress over. Sure enough, she recognized the logo on the bottom. A company that made mattresses specifically for Celestia herself.

“She did steal this from the castle! What a jerk!”

Chapter 2

Twilight emerged from her room. Any qualms she’d had about using a stolen mattress had vanished during her comfortable night’s sleep; now, she felt well-rested and ready to meet the day.

And what a long day it was shaping up to be.

“Morning, Bruch,” she said, pausing outside of her hallway to stretch herself. “How did you sleep?”

“Like I always do,” he answered, deadpan as usual. “With my eyes closed.”

Twilight let out an unprincess-like snort of laughter. She looked over and saw that one corner of Bruch’s mouth was creeping up in a suppressed smile, and she smiled as well. There was something comforting about seeing this emotion from him; he was usually so serious. “Alright. First things first. Let’s get this hive cleaned up.” She stepped out to where the changelings were moving. She straightened up. “I need some volunteers,” she called.

Every single changeling stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. Every one stood at attention, waiting for her instructions, their ears perked and blue eyes wide, each one ready to serve.

“Oh… kay…” she murmured, surprised at having so many to choose from. She was still getting used to this whole ‘every changeling is willing to obey your every command’ thing. “I’m going to have to do a little more organization than I’d thought.”

* * *

Twilight couldn’t help but smile. The changelings had been extremely helpful. Many had already begun cleaning before she’d even started her organizing.

And, of course, as queen, she needed to set a good example. After all, if she were helping clean the pits, no changeling would dare complain about that assignment again. If anything, changelings would volunteer just to emulate their queen.

So thus it was that Twilight Sparkle was trotting down the corridor, carrying a long spade on her back.

It was somewhat ironic. Changelings lived on emotions (and mushrooms, and she had seen at least one licking a salt patch) but the emotions didn’t survive long. They would harden and congeal into a tight, acrid-smelling gel, rendering them inedible and further compounding their food crisis. Constant stirring helped; but it only delayed the problem, and the emotions would soon be rendered acrid.

This is what Bruch had told her, but she soon saw that he had been putting it lightly. She took a step inside the room and stopped short, her breath catching in her throat. This was awful. She'd never smelled anything like it.

But Twilight Sparkle was not one to give up. She steeled herself and stepped forward, fighting her way through the stench. The other changelings split up around the pits, and she found one to work on. She brought her spade down.

It bounced off the congealed… whatever it was, barely leaving any impression.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed, and she lifted the spade higher before swinging it again.

It was hard work. She suddenly understood why this was a punishment task. Even with the strength of her earth pony magic, she was barely making a crack in the crust.

Or did she even have earth pony magic anymore? Maybe it was all being replaced, and she wouldn’t have any more. What was changeling magic even like?

This train of thought was interrupted when she saw a second spade come in. This one entered at a bit of an angle, digging itself in through the crust by virtue of the edge. Then she pushed the handle down, using it as a kind of lever to lift up and break off a small chunk. Ponneka looked up and gave her a little nod.

“Thanks,” Twilight said.

“I’ve had a lot of experience,” she replied quietly as she resumed her work.

Eventually, most of the big stuff was out of the pits. The changelings split into groups almost naturally. Some remained in the pits, getting out the smaller, more stubborn bits. Others produced brooms and began sweeping (Twilight joined this group), and still others began hauling the chunks off, perhaps to whatever dumping site the hive used.

And as Twilight worked, she staunchly refused to acknowledge the purple hair she was sweeping up along with it.

* * *

Now that the hive was somewhat clean and the glowpanels lit up the corridors once more, it was time for more organization. Twilight met with Bruch in her chambers. “Alright, Bruch. It’s inventory time. What do we have?”

Bruch cocked his head. “As in...?”

“What do we have as in resources? You know, money, materials?”

Bruch shrugged. “Anything that’s naturally found in a cave.”

Twilight nodded, not sure he had understood her question. “Ok. Let’s start with changelings. How many are there?”

“We number about two thousand.”

Twilight nodded. “How about our financial situation?”

Bruch shrugged. “Chrysalis required us to give all money gained on harvesting runs to her. Most changelings don’t even bother to try and get any; and if they did, they didn’t bother keeping it. Foals and ice cream stores are a good combination.”

Twilight paused for a moment, and then… “Oh, oh, oh. You buy ice cream for the foals. I thought…” She shook her head. “So what does your economy run on, anyway?”

“We trade our rations,” Bruch answered with a little shrug. “It’s all we have.”

Twilight thought back to the chest of bits in her room and pursed her lips. Ill-gotten, maybe; but it could be used for good. Maybe that could be the start of her royal treasury. Funds were always needed for something or other. There were banks in Canterlot that would pay good interest on investments, especially with such principal.

But principal, regardless of size, only gets you so far. “I’m sure there’s something we have that we can sell,” she invited.

Bruch bit his lower lip. “What, rocks?” he asked with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Skills,” Twilight corrected.

“Admiration is thin,” Bruch said derisively, “and you can’t eat gold, anyway.”

Twilight’s eyes brightened. “No, but you can use it to buy other things,” she murmured. Ideas of railroad tracks with new trains, assembly lines with conveyor belts, and paved pathways running through the hive flitted through her mind.

“Until you can buy love with it, it’s probably going to be pretty low on the priority list,” Bruch pointed out.

Twilight paused, her previous ideas vanishing in a puff of smoke. There was no point in solving problems that weren’t problems. “How do changelings know when and where to harvest?”

“Usually by assignment,” Bruch answered. “Our former queen took an hour of every day to give assignments.”

Twilight blanched. “I haven’t been…”

“It’s fine,” Bruch quickly reassured her. “You’ve been busy. Besides, we adapt.” He paused. “Also, you never said that we couldn’t go harvest, so we’ve just been doing it ourselves.”

Twilight nodded. “I thought that was fairly self-regulated,” she admitted. “So what’s stopping you from all going out at once?”

“Self-preservation, mostly,” Bruch answered. “Too many changelings in one area doesn’t work. We get noticed in smaller towns, and big cities have too many negative emotions.”

Twilight nodded. “Then let’s get organized. Bruch, I’ll need a large room, with empty walls.”

* * *

Bruch led Twilight to the fourth room. “How’s this one?” he asked.

Twilight stepped inside to the center and glanced around. She spun in a circle, mentally drawing out her plans. “This should work,” she said quietly. She turned back to Bruch. “You said changelings can work in stone. Find me a few of the best masons the hive has.”

Bruch paused. “I… will see who I can find,” he said.

“Thank you,” Twilight said, pulling out a quill and a piece of paper. She began drawing at an almost frenzied pace.

Bruch turned to leave. His new queen certainly was enthusiastic. He hoped it would last.

* * *

Bruch returned. He tapped on the wall and inclined his head. “Princess,” he said.

Twilight stood up eagerly as four changelings stepped inside the room. As one, they bowed deeply.

“Yes, yes, as you were,” Twilight said hurriedly, rolling her hoof in the air. She lit her horn and held out her paper (and ignored the green streaks of magic in her violet glow). “I need you to create this, but larger and on this wall right here.”

These four changelings she hadn’t seen before. They looked up while still deep in their bow, clearly uncertain on how to proceed.

Luckily, Bruch had experience with how Twilight liked running things. The fact that he was also curious about her plan didn’t hurt, either. He stepped forward to look at the paper, and was quickly followed by the others.

It was a map of Equestria, fairly accurate but not quite to scale. There were lines drawn that did not match known legal boundaries, and the larger cities were expanded and divided into various sections. Near every area, there were small rows of small, paired boxes, labeled with the words ‘polished to bright shine’.

“I want this on that wall,” Twilight repeated, “but scaled up to take up the whole wall. Can you do that?”

The four changelings examined the drawing, and after a little contemplation, nodded. They looked up at the wall. One trotted over and tapped against the wall, and nodded approvingly. “Yes, Princess,” he said. “We can do this.”

“Great!” Twilight said, clapping her hooves together. “Then let’s do this!” She paused. “Or, I guess, you do it,” she amended. “I don’t know anything about stone.”

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as the changelings wanted to laugh but were unsure if they should; and stoic Bruch (who merely expelled a little more air out of his nose) couldn’t give them much of a cue. So, after a suppressed and nervous chuckle, the changelings stepped forward to their wall. One flapped her wings and began hovering, measuring mentally. One found a small, white rock, and began drawing a gridwork of lines along the wall as another began doing the same thing to Twilight’s paper. It wasn’t long before all four were copying her map, scaling it up.

Twilight inclined her head as she watched them work. Though her design began to take shape nicely in chalk, she couldn’t help but wonder. Where were their tools?

She got her answer when one changeling shook his forehooves. They flared green fire, and suddenly one was a thick mallet, and the other a sharp point. He stepped forward and began chipping away along the guidelines. Her eyes widened. That was actually pretty genius.

She glanced over and noticed Bruch, looking mildly confused.

“This will be our command center,” she said by way of explanation. “Changelings will go out two by two, in areas they know. We’ll keep records; where are good places to go, places to avoid, that sort of thing.”

“That’s not really how it’s done,” Bruch commented.

“I’m changing how it’s done,” Twilight said firmly. “Efficiency is prime here. We need to cover the most area, while at the same time not oversaturating areas. This way, we can see at a glance who’s out and where they are, with changelings who know what they’re up against.”

Bruch nodded. “It is a good idea,” he started, but didn’t finish.

Twilight knew what he was going to say. “But it’s not going to solve our love problem,” she finished for him. “I know. And I promise, I’m still working on that. But for now…” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to go explore.”

Chapter 3

Twilight Sparkle wandered through the further reaches of her hive. Although two thousand seemed like a great many changelings, they must have numbered many more at some time in the past; huge areas of this cave had been left desolate, their glowpanels dead, the hallways dusty. The changelings must have adapted to the loss of population by just consolidating into the smaller area she’d first seen.

Though the changelings had moved, the evidence of their presence had been left behind. There were rooms, rooms that had been where changelings had lived; halls where changelings had walked. She felt a strange sense of melancholy as she passed a space that looked oddly like a chalkboard that was devoid of writing. Could she ever build her hive this numerous again?

She paused, reflecting on her mental phrasing, then shook her head and continued exploring.

She made it out of the ‘residential’ area, and found more open spaces. She saw large hallways, and what might have at one time been a ballroom. One especially large hallway drew her attention. Twilight followed it and then stopped short, stunned.

It led to an enormous arena. This arena was huge. The center court was large and round, filled with sand and covered with dust. Encircling it was a thick, high wall of dark rock. Benches ringed the court with staggered, stadium seating that reached the high arches required to support the weight of the huge structure, numerous and stacked high enough to contain perhaps two hives’ worth of changelings. She whistled. Whatever usually happened in here must be quite the sight to see.

But thoughts of forming her own changeling dodgeball league would have to wait. Her changelings were still starving. Besides, she still had more of the cave to explore, so she turned and left the arena behind.

Crossing beyond the hallways, she found what could only be storage chambers. Twilight brightened. There had to be something useful in here.

But as she poked her head into a storage chamber, she crinkled her nose. She poked around some of the smaller cubbyholes to get a better look, but her vision only confirmed what she'd already smelled.

Nitrates and sulfur.

Had Chrysalis been stockpiling weapons? Or was that just a natural byproduct of cave digging? Twilight shook her head. She continued walking, passing by more storage areas and abandoned dwellings. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. This was actually fairly depressing.

Eventually, she found herself back at the current hive. She saw a few changelings, and they bowed as she passed.

And then she heard squeaking. Her ears pricked up. She knew that sound. She followed the sounds until she found the source.

It was the nursery. She recognized some of the crystal toys brought from the caves under the castle mixed with some of the rocks from here.

Some of the nymphs recognized her, and ambled over as quickly as their tiny legs and large heads would let them. Twilight picked the fastest one up and lifted her into the air. She giggled excitedly, her tiny and still functionally useless wings buzzing, thrilled at having gotten the queen’s attention. Another, also wanting some attention and slightly jealous at not having gotten there first, made an attempt to climb up Twilight’s leg.

“They’re so tiny,” Twilight breathed, lighting her horn and picking up the crawler.

Piquis giggled. “They are. They come smaller, you know.”

Twilight blinked. She was not aware of this. “What?”

Piquis led her into another room. She ducked under a thick curtain-like door of slime and Twilight hesitated only a little while before following.

If Piquis had been annoyed at having had to wait two minutes for her queen to follow her, she didn't show it. As Twilight entered, she held out what could only be a changeling larva. It had many little legs, a white grub-like body, and a head far too big for its body. It, too, recognized Twilight, and it squealed excitedly and wriggled its forelegs at her. Twilight took it—him—in her foreleg, hefting him. He was kinda cute, in a weird sort of way.

The sound of crawling grew louder, and more appeared. Like some kind of changeling larva cute-ocalypse, they swarmed her, crawling up her legs again much like the nymphs before them.

Twilight’s breath caught in her throat. So many little ones depending on her. She would rise to the occasion. She looked around and her eyes landed on an opening to another chamber.

“And this is also where we keep the eggs,” Piquis said, following her queen’s eyes. “When we’re working, we can’t watch our eggs; so we put them all there to keep them warm and safe.”

Twilight waded through the larva and to the egg chamber. She looked around. This chamber was not very large, but was still fairly empty. Eggs were clustered together, probably to conserve heat. She was somewhat relieved to see that while there was one changeling standing guard (who bowed as soon as she saw Twilight), these eggs were not being sat on. That would definitely be a job she would not be prepared for.

“There aren’t that many,” she said quietly.

Piquis bit her lower lip. “Times are hard,” she murmured, an ever so common refrain.

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Times are changing.”

* * *

Twilight stepped back into her new command center. The map of Equestria (and other places, too) was complete. As Twilight had requested, all the more populated areas had been blown up, showing more detail and divided into sectors. She gave it a good once-over, and then nodded, satisfied. “Looks good,” she said. “And these are my volunteers?”

“Yes. Name placards of all the usual runners, as requested,” Bruch said.

“Any changelings that should not be together?” Twilight asked, flipping through them idly.

Bruch shrugged. Changelings adapted.

Taking this as a ‘no’, Twilight placed the placards at random. “These are the assignments,” she said when she was done. “I think that'll work.” She looked back towards Bruch, as if for reassurance. “Right?”

“We are changelings,” Bruch said simply. “We will adapt.”

This was a little less excitement than she'd expected, even from Bruch. Still, it was organization, and as such, it made her feel better.

But there was still much left to do.

* * *

Queen Twilight Sparkle was not like Chrysalis. This went without saying among the changelings. She didn't demand grovelling or anything upon her arrival, she had never lost her temper, and she seemed to be treating her changelings almost as equals. It was strange, but not entirely unwelcome.

And one of the stranger things was her desire for art. For example, she had called changelings who worked in stone; not once, but twice this week. This had sent ripples of gossip through the hive, but it had died down fairly quickly.

Twilight paced in front of the gathered changelings. There were only five of them. It was clear that Bruch had not been exaggerating when he said art had been quashed under Chrysalis. “I've been told you're the best. I remember Bruch saying, in front of princesses no less, that your sculpture is among the best in Equestria. Is this true?”

The changelings shrugged modestly. One waggled his hoof from side to side. Another dug the tip of a rear hoof into the ground.

“I want to see it,” Twilight said. “Someday, I'd like to use your artistic abilities to provide revenue for the hive. But for now, just show me what you can do.”

The changelings saluted and flew off to find materials. Twilight watched them leave.

* * *

Twilight didn't like being interrupted while working. So she left the sculptors alone while they worked. It only seemed fair.

As she walked, it occurred to her that she didn't know much about the security of her hive. Were there sandsnakes or tatzlworms around here in the badlands? She had no idea.

She found Bruch, working alongside a few other changelings. She almost felt bad asking.

Almost.

“It's a pretty decent ring system,” he said. “There's a system of fifteen stations. Every hour, the changelings on watch rotate to the next station. If there's anything wrong, they'll send up a green signal flare.”

“And it's a good thing I haven't seen any of those, right?”

Bruch chuckled. “You remember how hard it was to get here? This is one of the safest hives ever. It's almost a natural fortress.”

Twilight smiled. That was a relief. “And the fact that I literally marched in here and became queen is pure coincidence, right?”

Bruch paused in his work and met her eyes.

Twilight decided not to push further.

* * *

Twilight returned to where she'd left the sculptors. Art had never been her strong suit. She didn't know if they were done or how long it would take.

It had not been nearly long enough, she realized. The changelings were all working hard, but even the changeling who had gotten the furthest had only a basic shape done. And one jumped as she came in and dropped it on the ground.

Twilight stepped forward and kindly picked it up. She turned it over in her hooves. It was nowhere near complete; but what little of the head was visible showed great care and skill. “Wow,” she murmured. “This is really nice.” She looked back. “Can you make it bigger? Statues. Fountains. Things that ponies will buy.”

The changelings nodded eagerly.

“We can start selling them at craft shows,” Twilight started, “and then move up from there. We'll need a backstory, though. Something about, I dunno, a family of artisans from high in the mountains.”

“We can do griffons,” one changeling offered.

“That’ll be good,” Twilight said. “Yeah, I like that.” She smiled. “I like that a lot. Now, do we have any artists?”

Author's Note

~~So I guess you could say the times are… a-changeling. Eh?~~

Chapter 4

The hive was organized. Enough love was coming in that Jarret had to take some of the larger nymphs and start training them in how to keep it viable. The artisans had started selling their work in Equestria, and the bits had started to trickle in (and from there, deposited into an account in one of Canterlot’s biggest banks). And, if the recent influx of eggs was any indication, her changelings were feeling much more hopeful about things.

Now, Twilight could take some personal time and do some research. Usually, self-experimentation was considered taboo, and at the very least, unwise; but in this case, she was willing to make an exception.

After all, how could she be a queen of the changelings if she didn't even know the first thing about changing?

So thus it was that Ithir and Nemri stood in one of the abandoned storerooms of the hive, eager and prepared to teach Twilight all about changing.

Well, perhaps ‘prepared’ was a bit strong of a word.

Ithir tapped his chin and looked over at Nemri, who shrugged helplessly. He looked back at Twilight and scuffed a hoof. “I know we said we'd do anything to help; but I don't even know where to start.”

“How did you learn to transform?” Twilight asked.

Nemri scratched his neck. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We just see other changelings doing it from the time we’re hatchlings, and we just try it. Like learning to walk, or pegasi trying to fly. It's pretty instinctive.”

“Am I even changeling enough yet to change?” Twilight asked, prodding at yet another portion of her foreleg that seemed to be just skin over a shallow depression in her hardening flesh. “I’d hate to… uh… whatever the transformation version of ‘splinch’ is.”

“I don’t really know. I’ve never seen a new queen. You might be able to change your eyes back, at least,” Ithir said hopefully.

Twilight grinned. They'd been solid green for about a week now. “I’d like that,” she said. “How do I do it?”

“You… just do it,” Nemri supplied unhelpfully.

Twilight cocked her head.

“Our magic is instinctive.” Ithir shrugged. “You just picture a target and concentrate and you… change.”

Twilight squinted. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

“It does to a changeling,” Nemri said.

“But… but… you’re changing everything,” Twilight pointed out. “I mean, you’re forming new internal organs and veins and arteries to supply them with blood—you’re forming blood, too!—and new tendons and new bones and other things that changelings just don’t have and then there’s all our fur and our manes and tails and…”

“You’re really overthinking this, Princess,” Ithir said soothingly. “Just try it.”

“Be bold!” Nemri said, striking a heroic pose. “Take a chance!”

“Let the magic work!”

Twilight inhaled. This could work. She could do this. She picked one of her friends and closed her eyes. She concentrated on how she'd have to change. Her fur would have to change color, her mane would have to shorten, her eyes would have to change color-

“You're overthinking it,” Nemri interrupted.

“Maybe start small?” Ithir suggested. “Just do the mane for now.”

Twilight nodded. She imagined her mane changing from the stringy blueish mess it now was to the curly purple of Rarity’s mane.

And then she noticed it. Something inside her she hadn't noticed before. Like, magic, but not. Was that it? She pulled it up and imagined that her mane was growing longer and more purple.

Her mane was suddenly wreathed in flames; but any victory that this may have been was quickly ruined when Twilight collapsed. She tried to get up, but to her horror, she found that she couldn't move.

“Oh, no!”

“She burned her love stores!” Nemri moaned.

“You know, I don't think I've ever seen her feed…” Ithir murmured. “Don’t worry, I got this.” He stepped forward, leaned over Twilight’s face, moved her long purple mane out of the way, then reached down and opened her mouth with his hooves…

Twilight realized what he was going to do a split second before he did it; but to her horror, she was completely and utterly powerless to stop him.

He made a hacking cough, and coughed up a pink pool of love onto his tongue. Leaning over further, he let it trickle down, curling his tongue like a funnel to guide it directly into her mouth.

Twilight was helpless, unable to even blink, watching as that little pink glob dropped lower and lower until it hit her tongue.

Relief was almost instantaneous. It was like taking a drink after being dehydrated and suddenly realizing just how badly you’d needed it. It was slightly sweet, if a bit bitter. Maybe like a mango? She wasn’t sure. But she did realize that she could now blink again, and her hoof twitched. As much as it pained her, she knew what she needed to do. She stretched her tongue out, pulled it in, and swallowed.

Feeling quickly returned to her hooves, and she could soon push herself upright. She shuddered. That had better have been a one time thing, because she would never be able to get used to that. Perhaps the most uncomfortable part was seeing Ithir standing there so proudly after he'd just... ugh... in her mouth. “Thank you, Ithir,” Twilight said shakily, pushing the long mane out of her face. “I think that’s enough experimenting for one day.”

He bowed proudly. Twilight shuddered. This did not bode well.

* * *

Twilight slowly walked down the hallway. Changelings bowed politely as she passed, but her mind was too preoccupied with what she was about to do. What she had to do.

Much sooner than she'd hoped, she arrived at the love chamber.

Jarret straightened up and bowed as he saw her. “Princess! We've been waiting for you.”

Even he knew it was inevitable. “Hi, Jarret.” She took a deep breath. “I… I need to feed.”

Jarret brightened. “Of course,” he said. With expert movements, he swirled a new ball with the hooks on his hooves. Twilight couldn't help but notice that he had pulled more of the pink over, so that even though there were more blue, green, red, and purple streaks in the bowl, her ball was mostly pink with a few streaks of purple and blue. He held it out and bowed, like a chef presenting his meal.

Twilight took it hesitantly. This was a new step for her, and definitely one she wouldn't be able to go back from.

She ran her tongue along the underside of her teeth. Her left tooth felt a bit sharper against her tongue, so she lifted the ball up and bit down.

She didn't bite hard enough, it squished between her teeth like a gummy candy. She smiled wryly, and then tried again.

This time, her tooth did pierce the coating, and the liquid inside squirted out into her mouth. It was, once again, like water to a pony in the desert; and Twilight had sucked it dry almost before she had a chance to think about what she was doing. Even the crusty exterior ended up in her mouth, and it quickly reverted to liquid on her tongue and she swallowed that as well.

“Wow,” Twilight said. It had tasted a little bit like bubblegum, but with a more full flavor; and she couldn't keep a smile off her face. “I feel… much better.”

Jarret smiled. “I'm glad. Come back whenever!”

Twilight nodded and trundled off.

Once she was out of sight, she rested against the wall. She'd fed on emotions. That was... it was a big step. She was definitely not pony anymore.

“Ha!” she heard behind her. Her ears swiveled. “Two weeks, one day before feeding. Pay up!” And then the sounds of grumbling and cats on-hairballs and passing over to the winning changeling.

Twilight cracked a smile. Not pony; but not so different, either.

* * *

Ithir and Nemri walked down the hallway and both slowed to a stop.

“You've never been down to the queen's chambers, have you?”

“Nope,” Ithir said. “I was never that unlucky.”

“Me neither.”

Both shuddered at the thought. Thankfully, if the rumors were true, Twilight had yet to bring a changeling (taken or otherwise) to her bedchamber. Instead, Twilight tended to meet in large, open rooms. No chance of any sexual activity there.

At least, not from somepony with Twilight’s disposition. Apparently, it had taken her two weeks before trying to feed again.

They arrived at such a room and bowed. “You wanted to see us, Princess?”

“Yes.” Twilight took a deep breath. Her transformation had continued; there was a small patch of bare skin on her left foreleg, her eyes were completely green, and both of her fangs were poking out ever so slightly from her upper lip. “I’ve figured it out.”

“Great!” Nemri cheered, rearing up. He hesitated and dropped back to the ground. “What have you figured out, your highness?”

“We’ve all got a natural form. You, Nemri, could take the form of Ithir, but that’s not your natural form. When you want to decloak, you have a set form to fall back into.” It was easy to tell them apart now. Though they were twins from the same egg, there were slight discernible differences in how they stood and how they did their head frills. It was hard to imagine a time when she had thought all changelings looked the same. She continued. “So this is my natural form. I imagine that with time, the changes to my body will continue until I look like Chrysalis. But I’m still a changeling queen. So, with enough love energy…” Twilight closed her eyes.

And a burst of green flames overtook her body. When they'd faded, there stood a purple alicorn, one that hadn't been seen in about a month. She smiled hopefully, revealing perfectly straight (and flat) teeth.

Ithir cocked his head. “I don’t remember your tail being so voluminous,” he said.

Nemri jabbed an elbow sharply into his ribs. “I think you look just fine, Princess,” he said, as if defending her.

Twilight grinned sheepishly as she lifted her poofy mane out of her eyes. “Ok, maybe I overdid it on the mane and tail,” she admitted, “but it's a great start. I think I'm starting to understand how changeling magic works.”

“How?” Nemri asked.

“Instinctively,” Twilight answered wryly, “so you were right about that. But just like how you can adapt spells or shift your… uh, how pegasi shift their wings,” she amended, “you can change some things.” Twilight chuckled. “I could probably even change the location of my vital organs if I wanted to.”

Ithir and Nemri chuckled. “Can't say I recommend that, Princess.”

“No,” Twilight agreed, “probably not. It's an interesting thought, though.”

Chapter 5

Sira stood guard out in the desert. A rocky cliff served as a perfect watching spot; from here, she could see for miles. She settled onto her stomach and smiled. This was one of her favorite stations. It was nice out here. Peaceful, really. Just the wind, the sand, and a strange wooden wagon coming through the-

She shot to her hooves and squinted. Sure enough, it looked like a wooden wagon moving through the desert by itself. Baffled, Sira closed her eyes and burst into flame, taking on the form of a griffon female; griffons had much better vision than ponies or changelings. She held up her new claws to shield her new eyes and squinted. Now she could see the light blue unicorn pulling it. If Sira didn’t know any better, she’d say this pony was delirious, or perhaps insane. There was no other way to explain the cape and pointed wizard hat she wore, especially out here in the desert.

Or maybe it was a very sophisticated sneak attack.

Quickly taking a safer pegasus form, Sira took off and headed towards the unicorn. It was a long walk but a short flight, and she soon arrived, and found the unicorn struggling to pull the wagon over a rock that just so happened to be in the way of her right rear wheel. Again and again she pulled, and again and again it bounced off, holding her back and impeding her progress. It was a small rock, and she could have easily avoided it by taking a step back and going around it; but apparently she was too delirious or dehydrated to think of that.

“Hi,” Sira said.

The light blue unicorn looked back. “Ah! Greetings!” she said, politely lifting her pointed wizard hat even as she panted for breath. “Have you come for a… a performance from… the Great and… Great and Powerful Trixie, the greatest… magician Equestria has ever seen?”

“I came to see if you needed assistance,” Sira said honestly.

Trixie nodded. “Trixie thanks you for your offer, but Trixie has managed well enough on her own,” she said.

“Well, at least let Sir- uh, me adjust this wheel back here-”

“No!” the unicorn snapped at her. “Trixie does not trust wheels!”

Sira blinked. Referring to herself in the third person combined with her unintelligible ramblings clearly meant delirium. This pony definitely needed help. “Are you sure I can’t help-?”

This sent Trixie almost into a frenzy. She charged forward, tugging angrily on her wagon with every syllable. “Trixie! Will! Over! Come! This! Obs! Sta! Cle! If! It! Is! The! Last! Thing! Trixie! Does!”

And it almost was; Trixie's hoof slipped and she fell forward, banging her head against the ground and knocking herself out.

Sira shrugged. That worked. She reverted to her changeling form, stepped back, and shot a green signal flare into the sky. Others would soon come, and they’d help her bring the unicorn and her cart inside. Princess Twilight would want to know about this.

* * *

Trixie’s eyes flickered open, but it was still dark. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say she was in a cave. “Huh?” she whispered, rubbing at her eyes. “Where is Trixie?”

She sat up and looked around, but it was still dark. She was in a cave. Perhaps her superior instincts had led her to this place! Or it was that pegasus. One of the two. Probably the first.

She slowly sat up and looked around. Her eyes adjusted, and she realized that she saw no entrance to this cave. She glanced down and saw a bowl of water.

Trixie huffed and sat back on her haunches. “Is Trixie a dog, that she should drink out of a bowl?” she demanded of nopony in particular.

Still, the water smelled really good, and after taking a quick, furtive glance around to ensure she was really alone, she lifted it with her magic as if it were a fine dinner glass. “No reason Trixie can’t show a little class,” she said, lifting it gently to her lips.

That class she spoke of quickly flew out the window as she gulped down the precious liquid, sending water trickling down her chest in her haste. She hadn't realized just how thirsty she had been. She exhaled when she had drained it completely and brusquely wiped her lips with the back of a hoof. Good. Trixie was feeling restored already.

But now what?

If Trixie were a lesser pony, she might admit to feeling the tiniest bit afraid. Luckily for her, Trixie was stronger than that. She lifted herself up and dusted herself off. With bravery and confidence, she tightened her saddlebags and crept forward, only hesitating a little bit at the strange buzzing noises she heard and definitely not squealing at all when a rock fell behind her. The Great and Powerful Trixie made a mockery of fear and laughed in the face of danger.

Her exploration continued until she found an exit. She strode purposefully out… and her jaw dropped.

Changelings. Changelings, everywhere. It was like an anthill, but with changelings. They were on the ground, on the walls, some were even flying through the air.

With a furtive squeal, she scampered backwards and ran into the cave wall, knocking off her saddlebags and leaving a nice bump on her rump. She rubbed her hindquarters irritably.

And then she realized, with no small amount of horror, that she had not actually made it back to cover. She was still fully exposed.

And some of the changelings were looking at her with unsettling curiosity. She gulped and tried to press herself closer to the wall. Was this her fate, to be eaten by changelings? Oh, the travesty!

One of the smaller changelings, too young to understand why he should probably stay away, came in close. He poked his nose into her saddlebags, and, when Trixie jumped in surprise and squawked in protest, he merely pressed on, and retrieved a deck of cards.

Trixie's love for her livelihood was almost greater than that for her life. She roughly snatched it back and pushed him away. “Insolent little…!”

A low growling made her freeze. She looked up to see another changeling, this one larger and likely his mother, glaring angrily at Trixie, fangs bared and postured to charge.

Trixie took a slight step back as she realized that changelings have very, very sharp fangs in their natural state. She attempted to justify herself. “C- clearly, you don't understand the nature of…”

The mother's deepening growls and her one hoof pawing at the ground indicated she didn't really care about the nature of Trixie's equipment.

The unicorn chuckled nervously. “Perhaps, a- a demonstration, then?” She fanned out the deck for the little changeling and held it out with a shaky rendition of her winning smile. “Pick a card, any card.”

* * *

Hrit knocked on the door to Twilight’s chambers and slipped inside. "We have a visitor, Princess."

Twilight spun around. “How did they find us?” she demanded.

"I don't think it was an intentional visit, Princess,” Hrit said quickly. “She's a unicorn, and appears to be a traveling magician or performer. I think she was out looking for a village and got lost in the desert. Sira brought her in, and she stumbled into the main hall. She's putting on a show right now.”

Twilight nodded. “She seems friendly, then?”

Hrit hesitated. “She does not seem to be a threat,” he finally said. “She does talk a lot, though. Mostly about herself.”

Twilight raised a hoof and gently massaged her temple. That sounded far too familiar. "Don't tell me. It's a light blue unicorn wearing a purple cape and hat?"

Hrit was taken aback. Oh, the wisdom of his queen! "Y- yes, your highness. How did you know?"

Twilight smiled wryly. "I've met her before. Does she still call herself..."

* * *

"...the Great and Powerful Trixie!" Fireworks burst into the air, accentuating the trick she had just performed.

Nymphs, adolescents, and even full-grown adults cheered at the performance. This was something new and exciting! Nothing like this had ever happened at the hive before.

Trixie waited patiently until the applause had quieted down before continuing. "For her next trick, Trixie will require a brave volunteer!" She lowered her head and scanned the nymphs. Just like their pony counterparts, they jostled for position and nudged and urged their neighbor to go up; curious, but not curious enough to volunteer themselves.

“I volunteer!”

Trixie’s head shot up at hearing her own language, and she saw a purple alicorn come forward through the crowd. “You!” Trixie hissed. She took a step forward and lit her horn.

Twilight didn’t even have time to speak before every single changeling in the room shot to their hooves, faced Trixie, and lit their own horn. The entire cavern took on an unearthly green glow as the whole room full of snarling changelings readied for an attack, and Trixie quickly realized that she was vastly, vastly outnumbered.

Her horn quietly fizzled. “Um... Parley?” she asked with an uneasy laugh.

* * *

Trixie held her mug of hot chocolate in her hooves, but her mind was far from the comforting liquid. “Queen?” she asked.

“Apparently.” Twilight nursed her own mug. “It was sort of an accident, really. Purely self-defense… with consequences.”

Trixie chuckled as she took a sip. “Last time Trixie tried that defense in court, she still had to pay for those petunias.”

Twilight frowned, but decided not to ask about that. “You weren’t actually going to attack me, were you?”

“Oh, heavens, no!” Trixie said, laying a hoof on her chest as though she were deeply offended. “Such an action would have been very unwise, and most unlike the new Trixie. Trixie merely intended to show you her increased magical abilities, for she has improved her skills drastically since our last encounter; and, as you can see, the new and improved Great and Powerful Trixie has gone all-natural, no amulets required.” She gestured proudly at her bare neck.

Twilight nodded.

Trixie set her mug down. “You see, Sparkle, Trixie realized that she was going about her life all wrong! She didn’t need to become a stronger magician than you, or anypony else!”

“I’m hoping at this point that you are going to say, ‘I learned about the magic of friendship’,” Twilight interjected hopefully.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Trixie said with a wave of her hoof. “That stuff never works.”

Twilight frowned; her turn to be mildly offended.

Trixie set her cup down and slid off the seat. “Trixie realized that she didn’t have to do more things; she just needed to be better at one thing!”

Twilight sighed. Looks like ‘Great and Apologetic’ had been just a phase, after all.

“Therefore, Trixie has devoted her life to study, and has learned under great masters, and in turn, she has mastered the art of illusion magic!” she said, rearing up and waving her forehooves mysteriously before she dropped and continued, “Trixie would be pleased to provide a demonstration?”

Her voice had raised in inflection at the end, clearly trying to sound like an invitation; but Twilight could tell that Trixie would probably demonstrate no matter how she answered, so she went with a more diplomatic, “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Nothing is too much trouble for the Great and Powerful Trixie!” Trixie retorted. She narrowed her eyes and lit her horn, and with a flash of blue light, there were suddenly two Trixies in Twilight’s room.

Twilight’s jaw dropped. She quickly recovered, however, when she realized she could feel no emotions from this new Trixie.

“As you can see, this is quite useful for making a perfect double for an illusion, for previewing a new look... Or just admiring some great and powerful tushie.” And sure enough, she turned her clone around so she could look at its backside, even going so far as to raise its tail for a better view.

Twilight frowned and felt a surge of pity for the showmare. This was mildly disturbing. Life without friends had apparently turned Trixie into a bit of a narcissist as well as a braggart; and she wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for Trixie or not. After all, she did seem to be enjoying the show, and it's not like she was hurting anypony.

“What was that, Twilight? You want a look, too?” And Trixie spun around so she was facing away from her copy and lifted her own tail. “There! Admire!”

And now Twilight just felt the urge to take a cold shower again. “Trixie, tell you what,” she said, averting her eyes. “I can't just send you home, especially this late when you're this far away from civilization. How about I find a place for you to stay tonight?”

“Very well,” Trixie said, vanishing her copy. “Does Trixie get a tour guide, or will you cast poor Trixie out to fend for herself in this new place?”

Twilight smiled as a new idea occurred to her. A brilliant idea. A brilliant, twisted, terrible idea. “Oh, yes. I can find you a guide. In fact, I know just the changeling…”

* * *

Trixie followed her changeling guide down a long series of tunnels, somewhat separated from the rest of the hive. The changeling kept glancing back at her almost longingly as they walked, and Trixie wasn't sure if it was because the changeling was surprised that she had the honor of basking in Trixie's glory, or if perhaps she wanted to eat Trixie alive and was debating doing it now or later. Trixie didn't care much for this uncomfortable silence, and she cared less for the idea of being eaten, and so she soon spoke. “So… Twilight said your name is Ponneka?” she asked.

The changeling nodded.

“Can you speak Trixie's language?”

Ponneka paused long enough to flare green fire and transformed into a copy of Trixie; completely naked, but otherwise identical to her guest. “Not in changeling form,” she said. “Our vocal chords aren't the right shape for pony speak, so we have to take a pony shape to speak Equestrian.”

“Fascinating...” Trixie murmured, her former line of questioning vanishing at this new development. She looked up and down at her clone in awe. “You look just like Trixie.”

Ponneka grinned. “I'm a changeling. If I didn't, I would be severely disappointed.” She turned to walk again, and Trixie watched her tail swish happily behind her for a moment before hurrying to catch up.

They soon arrived at the room that Twilight had indicated, and Ponneka opened it and led Trixie inside. Trixie cast a judgemental gaze over the room, taking in the small bed, little living space, and complete lack of a closet. “It's tiny, but might be sufficient for now.”

“Oh, good,” Ponneka smiled, tasting Trixie's pleasure at having a personal room once again. “It's good that you're happy.”

“Happy and satisfied are two different things,” Trixie said dismissively.

Ponneka simply nodded. “If you need anything, I live fairly close.” She turned to leave, but felt a hoof come and rest on her shoulder. She turned and saw Trixie standing very, very close. She could even feel her warm breath as she examined her body again.

"Before you go... Does Trixie really look that good?" Trixie asked, bringing a hoof reverently up and touching her clone's cheek.

Trixie didn't know this, but this scenario was the beginning of Ponneka's favorite personal fantasy, and so she smiled and answered just as she had practiced so many times before. "No."

The real Trixie looked hurt and was about to pull her hoof away when Ponneka continued, "She looks better. I am but a copy, a cheap mimic; and cannot even begin to reflect the beauty and majesty that is Trixie. If I had but half her grace, her charm, her-"

Unlike her fantasy, though, here her speech was interrupted. But since it came in the form of a forceful, lustful kiss that thrust her back against the wall, Ponneka was perfectly fine with this and decided that sometimes, reality is better than fantasy. Especially when the real Trixie tried to put her tongue in her mouth. Sure, she was inexperienced and clumsy, and her kisses more sloppy (and slobbery) than elegant, but she more than made up for that with innocent eagerness and enthusiasm.

Trixie eventually pulled back, gasping for breath. “Pl- please stay the night with Trixie?” she pleaded.

Ponneka licked her lips in anticipation of a long, fulfilling night. “It would be my honor,” she whispered.

* * *

Still wearing her Trixie disguise, Ponneka awoke early in the morning feeling slightly tired, but very full and completely content. She hadn't done anything sexual with Trixie (to her mild disappointment), but Trixie had responded to 'herself' with words of affection, actions of love, and many strokings of her mane, tail, and flank. She looked up at Trixie, and smiled as she saw her blissful expression. How wonderful it was to just touch a pony! Ponneka rested her head against Trixie's chest and relaxed.

That is, until it occurred to her just where she had spent the night, and how late in the day it already was. Her eyes flew open. She had other responsibilities she needed to take care of!

Ponneka subtly shifted her weight, trying hard to not wake up her bedmate. Unfortunately, Trixie seemed to subconsciously notice this; she reached out like a light blue octopus and kept clinging to Ponneka’s arms. Eventually, with a little patient squirming, she managed to escape off the bed and take two steps, but she froze as she heard Trixie sit up and growl.

“How dare you? The Great and Powerful Trixie will not put up with being loved and then left!” she said angrily.

Ponneka was vaguely tempted to point out that they had done nothing sexual last night, but decided against it. “I’m sorry. I have to go before the princess notices I’m gone.”

“Hmf! Leave, then.” Trixie crossed her forehooves defiantly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie didn’t enjoy your company that much, anyway.”

Ponneka didn’t need to taste her hurt feelings to know that that was the biggest lie Trixie had ever told in her entire life. “That’s too bad,” Ponneka said, speaking as lowly and seductively as she could, bringing a blue hoof up and brushing it lovingly against Trixie's cutie mark. “I would have loved to return tonight, and continue where we left off.”

Trixie sighed dramatically, even as she tried to hide a shiver of pleasure. “Very well. Trixie may or may not leave the door unlocked tonight if you wish to return.”

She blushed as Ponneka came up and gave her a kiss on the forehead, right at the base of her horn. “I hope you do allow me the pleasure of your company, then, Trixie,” Ponneka said, making Trixie titter like a young school filly with a crush.

After a final kiss, Ponneka returned to her normal form and left quietly... and ran right into the very pony she didn’t want to see.

Twilight Sparkle, Queen of the changelings.

“Good morning, Ponneka!” Twilight announced cheerfully.

Ponneka jumped and cowered. “I- it's- I... I can explain!”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Can you?”

“Yes! No! Maybe?” Ponneka was trying hard to think fast, but found it somewhat difficult. Instead, she went with what seemed to be a logical solution: she fell to the ground, flat on her face, and wordlessly pleaded for mercy.

Twilight let her stew there for a moment before clearing her throat. “Ponneka, answer me truthfully. How do you feel?” Twilight asked.

Though it wasn’t a royal decree, Ponneka felt she had to obey. “Full. Very full. And completely content.”

Twilight smiled. “Very well. Rise. I order you to remain by Trixie's side as her guide for as long as she remains here in my hive.” Her eyes narrowed. “Just so you know, Trixie is my friend; so take good care of her or else you might find yourself cleaning pits again.”

Ponneka snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, Princess!”

As soon as Twilight was out of sight, Ponneka scampered back inside.

Trixie jumped as she burst through the door. “You’re back,” she observed, brushing off her forelegs as if she’d been interrupted doing something important.

“I just couldn't stay away from you,” Ponneka said, darting over to nuzzle her cheek. Trixie swelled with pride, and Ponneka knew she had made the right choice.

“Very well,” Trixie eventually sighed. “Trixie supposes she can tolerate your presence for a little while longer.”

Ponneka couldn't help but smile.

Author's Note

"I can only look you in the eyes right now."

Chapter 6

Twilight decloaked and looked in mirror. She pursed her lips, and one of her fangs poked out. She grimaced, which only exposed it more. Shaking her head, she leaned in closer and examined her jawline. Her facial structure was changing, too. And it seemed like everything ached. Her nose, her ears, her horn; her everything.

But her physical appearance was among the least of her concerns. Stress was mounting up. Passing out assignments, watching her changelings, trying to learn and study about changeling culture and changeling magic (they didn't even write most of their spells down!) while at the same time going through all these changes; it just…

There was no way around it. She was overwhelmed. Sinking. Drowning. She had not been prepared for this.

And in this situation, there was only one thing to do.

And after singing a song about how unprepared she was for any of this, she slowly crept out of the hive.

* * *

A changeling on guard duty neared the next station. He landed lightly on the platform. “Sira, did you see…?”

“Twilight leaving?” Sira supplied. “I did.”

“Huh. Why?”

Sira shrugged. “Maybe she just needs to be alone for a while.”

“Well, nice as she is, I'm certainly not about to tell the queen she's wrong.”

Sira chuckled wryly. “That makes two of us, Beis.” She stood up and stretched. “See you in twenty minutes.”

* * *

Celestia awoke at midnight. This was most irregular. It took her a moment to figure out why, but when she did, her eyes snapped open.

Somepony had tripped one of her ward spells.

She sat up in bed, waiting. Feeling.

The intruder went right through Celestia’s protective wards.

Celestia bit her lip. On the bright side, this narrowed the list of possible intruders down to two ponies, possibly three or four at a stretch. On the not so bright side, if Luna or Twilight had felt the need to physically interrupt her sleep, there was indeed something very wrong.

It was Twilight, and she poked her head in. Seeing that Celestia was awake, she crept into the room and hopped up on Celestia's bed. She looked into Celestia's eyes, and Celestia was concerned to see that her eyes had taken a bit of a wild look in them.

“How do you do this?” Twilight whispered, pleading. “Stress is building up, and I'm going to go insane. I don't know what to do. How do you handle this?”

Celestia paused and thought for a moment. She tapped her chin and bit her lower lip before responding with a perfectly straight face. “Lots and lots of masturbation.”

Twilight stared dumbstruck for a good minute before Celestia couldn't keep a straight face anymore. She burst out laughing at Twilight's expression. “In all seriousness, that does nothing but mask the problem. And poorly, at that. I cannot recommend it.”

“So what is the problem?” Twilight asked, her cheeks still burning red at those unbidden, disturbing mental images of her mentor.

Celestia met her eyes. “You must never forget that you are a pony.”

“Yes…?”

“There are many things that a pony needs to be healthy. A pony needs to be loved. A pony needs to feel safe. A pony needs to feel accepted. And if you spread yourself too thin, you’re not going to feel any of that. You’re just going to feel stressed; and, when something bad happens, you’re just going to beat yourself up about it for not being better, and the cycle will continue. That’s not right. You're a pony. You deserve better.”

“So what do I do?”

“Take some time for yourself, do something you love to do. The hive will not crumble without your constant presence, I can assure you.” She grinned. “Once, when the stress was mounting in the weeks after my sister’s banishment, I disguised myself as a filly and started a food fight at an orphanage.”

Twilight stared again.

“This time I'm serious,” Celestia admitted. “It was fun and very stress-relieving. And I 'accidentally' submitted two orders to the kitchen and donated the extras there afterwards, so it wasn't entirely a bad thing,” she defended herself.

Twilight wasn't sure how to take this.

Thankfully, Celestia spoke again. “When was the last time you spent time with your friends?”

“Uh…” Twilight answered uncomfortably.

Celestia raised an eyebrow.

“I… can't remember,” Twilight confessed quietly.

“There's your first step,” Celestia said. “Take the day off tomorrow, and just spend some leisure time in Ponyville.” She grinned. “I think you'll find yourself back to normal in no time.”

“Thank you, Celestia.” Twilight turned to leave.

“You're not leaving this late, are you, Twilight?” Celestia held up a wing in invitation. “You're more than welcome to spend the night.”

Twilight grinned and scampered underneath Celestia's wing and rested against her barrel, just like she had as a filly.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another, much smaller room very far away, two ponies that looked identical were also sitting very close.

Trixie chewed her lower lip slowly. It was obvious that something was weighing on her mind.

Ponneka, wearing the guise of Trixie, leaned in and nuzzled her with the top of her head. “Is Trixie alright?”

“Trixie is thinking,” Trixie answered.

“About what?”

“Trixie wants to practice her magic,” Trixie explained, “but Trixie is conflicted.”

“I believe in you, Trixie,” Ponneka said comfortingly.

“Oh, it's not that,” Trixie said dismissively. “Trixie is a great and powerful illusionist. Even in her sleep, Trixie could perform tricks that will dazzle the mind and astound the senses!” She demonstrated by reaching behind Ponneka’s ear, retrieving a bit, and then smashing it between her hooves to reveal that it was now a long rose.

Ponneka took it and slid it behind her ear. She smiled at Trixie, and Trixie returned it.

Finally, Trixie blurted it out. “I want you.”

Ponneka’s heart raced. Could she...?

Trixie continued. “I want you up there with Trixie, on stage! Together! But… but Trixie has sworn to live by the code.”

Ponneka’s heart rate had returned to normal—it wasn't like a pony could love a changeling, anyway—but she was still intrigued. “What is the code?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Trixie answered. “And, as fantastic as you are…”

“I'm not a magician.” Ponneka nodded. “So you can't practice your tricks.” She had never felt so wanted. This was such a foreign feeling. She rolled over, pressing their barrels together. “Unless you helped me become a magician, too.”

Trixie’s ears pricked. “You… you'd do that? For Trixie?”

Oh, the things Ponneka would do for Trixie could fill many books (which would then out of necessity would be censored out of public view). “I would,” Ponneka whispered. “I would take the oath. I would follow the code. I would just need a magician great and powerful enough to teach me.”

Trixie’s breath came faster. “Trixie needs to be able to trust you,” she said.

“You can trust me,” Ponneka insisted.

“Are you sure?” Trixie asked, staring deeply into Ponneka's eyes. “Promise me.”

“I swear on my egglayer,” Ponneka whispered.

Trixie sat back, relieved. “Good. Trixie will teach you everything she knows.” She lit her horn and retrieved a deck of cards. “We will start with something simple…”

* * *

Bright and early the next morning, Twilight (as her former alicorn self) walked forward, slowly, taking in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. How long had she spent in the hive? Underground?

And how could she have possibly thought that that was a good idea?

Sleeping with Celestia had re-energized her; but seeing all these friendly faces made her feel truly alive again. She trotted through town, waving and smiling at all the ponies here. By the time she made it to Sweet Apple Acres, she was smiling widely. Ponyville was just so friendly.

Upon arrival at the orchard, she followed the sound of thumping. Soon, she found the source. “Applejack?” she called.

“Twilight!” Applejack rushed over to give her friend a hug. “It's been too long! What brings you ‘round these parts?”

“Oh, not much. I needed a break from the whole changeling thing, and I figured spending time with my friends was a great idea.”

Applejack chuckled even as she scratched the back of her neck. “Well, you might want to start elsewhere,” she said. “Today’s an applebucking day.”

But much to Applejack’s surprise, Twilight brightened. “Can I help?” she asked.

Applejack hesitated. “Well, I… I don’t see why not,” she finally said. “Let’s see your bucking.”

Twilight looked around and quickly found a tree target. She backed up and kicked.

A single apple fell, landing right on Twilight’s head. Twilight squeaked.

Applejack gasped. “Bark-tholomew! You be nice,” she scolded the tree.

Twilight cracked a smile (even as she rubbed at her head). Yes. This would do just fine.

* * *

Even though there were two ponies working, the planned swath was completed at about the same rate; both ponies were chatting and laughing too much to get much work done. They talked about everything from the latest adventure Apple Bloom had had (and the ensuing mess) to changelings and their strange habits (and their slimy mess. It was a very messy conversation).

Celestia was lowering the sun by the time the last apple fell into the basket.

Applejack wiped the sweat off her brow. “Well, if that ain't the most fun I've had in months, I don't know what was,” she said.

“Same here,” Twilight said.

Applejack motioned with her head towards the farmhouse. “You staying for dinner, or can your new changeling body even eat pony food?” She winced, as if realizing that that had probably been a bit uncalled for.

But Twilight was unoffended. And hungry. “I'd love to.”

* * *

Twilight arrived back at the hive, still wearing leaves in her coat from helping Applejack in her orchard. Her hooves were sore and her stomach almost overly full of both pony food and the familial love that permeated the orchard, but her smile nearly split her face.

I feel so good, she thought. Friendship is truly magic. And it has rejuvenating properties! Next time, I should visit Pinkie Pie and the baby Cakes. I really should consider…

Her thoughts trailed off. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? “Bruch!” she called.

* * *

Piquis hesitantly walked up the steps. It wasn’t that she wasn’t comfortable in a pony disguise—Chrysalis had thought her too weak to care for nymphs and had assigned her to harvest in between her pit cleaning assignments—but never before had she been here, and she certainly had never tried to call this much attention to herself.

Still, Twilight had asked, and she would do her best to fulfill the command of her queen. She pushed open the doors and walked inside. The harsh smell of antiseptic assailed her nostrils, and the bright unnatural lights made her slow to a stop. She almost wanted to flee. But she had been given an assignment, and she would fulfill it.

The nurse at the desk looked moderately frazzled, as Twilight had predicted. These smaller hospitals often struggled in more ways than one.

Which is why this plan had a greater chance of succeeding here over anywhere else. She stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, Hello!” the nurse said, nearly knocking over a large stack of paperwork. She caught it with her hooves and then looked up. “How can I help you?”

Piquis continued. “My name is Flower Petals, and I’m here about the foal position?”

The nurse paused. “The foal position?”

“Yes,” Piquis said, the lies coming easier. “There was a position in the newspaper, about a volunteer to help with the foals in the nursery?”

The nurse bit her lower lip. They needed help, that went without saying. And the higher-ups were always really bad at communicating with her. This sounded reasonable. “Certainly. Let me show you around.”

* * *

Piquis followed the nurse into the nursery. She opened the door and Piquis peeked inside. There were rows and rows of bassinets, and the single pony in there looked overwhelmed. She looked back.

The nurse from the desk tapped lightly on the floor to get her attention. “Softheart, this is Flower Petals. She's here for the volunteer foal position.”

Softheart frowned. “I didn't know that was a position.”

“Neither did I. They never tell us anything.”

Softheart scoffed. “Ain't that the truth.”

Piquis took this as a cue to begin her job. She neared the closest bassinet.

There lay a little foal. Seeing that there was a new pony here, he fussed at her, kicking his little hooves irritably. He was clearly uncomfortable and wanted something, but he had no idea what.

Just like a little nymph.

Piquis leaned over and picked him up. She gently chattered at him as she sank to her haunches and began to rock him.

Her comforting presence, gentle touch, and soothing noises quickly began to have an effect. He looked up, eyes wide, and Piquis could feel the little flow of emotion. There was a lot from such a tiny foal.

And it was almost pure love.

Piquis smiled contentedly. She leaned down and briefly rubbed noses with the little colt before continuing her rocking. Soon, he was drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The doctor tapped his chin with a hoof. “I’m almost certain we didn’t have that position open. I don’t even think that position exists.”

The nurse frowned. “Are you sure? She seemed so confident.”

The doctor exhaled sharply. “Well, it could be a volunteer position, and the higher-ups didn't communicate; or we could have just facilitated a foalnapping. Let’s just hope that nothing tragic has happened.” He quickly made his way along towards the newborn section, with the nurse quickly following along behind.

He opened the door. “I say!” he started.

Piquis looked up and scowled. “Shh!” she scolded, holding her hoof over her lips. She looked back down and continued rocking the little filly.

The doctor paused. He glanced around. Most of the little foals were sleeping, and this was the quietest this room had ever been; and when was the last time Softheart had looked so in control and put-together. He looked back towards the nurse. “Well, I’m not going to tell her to leave,” he said.

The nurse shook her head in agreement, and the two quietly left.

Piquis grinned.

* * *

Twilight listened intently as Piquis gave her report. She certainly looked happy, and her abdomen did seem a bit distended with all she'd harvested.

That was certainly one of the nice things about cover identities, Twilight mused as Piquis bowed and left. Piquis could stay here, and another changeling could take that shift tomorrow.

Or…

Twilight looked over. “Bruch?”

Bruch looked up. “Yes, Princess?”

“Do you think we could build an orphanage out here?”

Bruch pursed his lips. He'd accepted it a long time ago: he'd never understand his queen.

Author's Note

Possibly relevant.
The 'defending' part starts next chapter. Sit tight!

Chapter 7

Celestia pursed her lips as she weighed her options. This decision could affect the rest of her day, possibly even the rest of her week!

“Raspberry,” she finally decided, pulling the little jar and spreading knife over. “I would like raspberry jam on my toast this morning.”

She glanced up at Luna. Luna, who was here for dinner instead of breakfast, was currently chomping on a nice portobello mushroom sandwich, with melted cheese and onions oozing out from the bread. Feeling Celestia's eyes on her, she looked up. “Wha’?”

“We're going to be talking to Twilight about choices and actions that could potentially affect Equestria and the future as we now know it. War looms in the not too distant. Lives may hang in the balance… and you're eating onions.”

Luna sniffed. “I happen to like onions,” she said defensively.

“Yes,” Celestia said dryly, “and everypony within a five pace radius will be able to tell.”

Luna frowned and glanced down at her sandwich. Her lower lip seemed to jut out a bit. “Surely, that is an exaggeration.”

Celestia opened her mouth to reply; but before she could, the door opened, and Twilight Sparkle entered. She visibly brightened as she did, but her smile quickly tightened.

For her part, she certainly looked the same as she did when she left. Celestia held out a piece of toast as if in salute. “Twilight, welcome. Would you care for some breakfast, dinner, maybe something from the kitchens?”

“Oh, no thanks,” Twilight said, politely waving them down with a hoof. “I ate on the way here.” She climbed up on a chair and sniffed. “Ooh, onions. I like onions.”

Luna coughed and furtively scanned the table for any kind of breath mint.

Celestia started. “Some strange rumors have been abounding, concerning the Soft Hooves Orphanage on Third Avenue. Apparently, it's now the most popular orphanage in Canterlot due to the pleasant general atmosphere, cleanliness, and numerous volunteers that love to interact with the foals. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Not a thing,” Twilight said innocently. “If many volunteers wish to help out at orphanages, that's certainly a good thing; and any increase in residual love is always welcome.”

One side of Celestia's lips perked up. “I'm certainly not going to disagree with you there,” she said.

“But I'm sure you didn't call me here to discuss civil matters,” Twilight said, leading.

“No, we didn't,” Celestia admitted. “It's about the griffons.”

Twilight perked up. In some weird way, this whole thing had all started way back when she was studying griffon culture for her duties as a princess. This seemed oddly fitting. “What about the griffons?” she asked.

“They have a new queen.”

Twilight felt something rile up inside her. ‘Queen’?! Who did-?

She coughed. “Right,” she said, mildly concerned at her previous thought process. What could she say about griffons? Some of her old studies floated to the forefront of her mind. “That's actually pretty impressive, considering how good griffons are at ignoring anything that doesn't net them bits.”

Celestia chuckled; she did not disagree with that. “The new queen, Grinda, has organized an army; and it seems they are being paid fairly well. From what we can tell, she has found an ancient artifact that can help extract gold from the ground.”

Twilight nodded. Intriguing.

“And there is talk of expanding the griffon territory. Some of the settlements on the borders have already been threatened.”

“And something tells me it doesn't have to do with purchasing those lands?” Twilight tried hopefully.

Celestia shook her head.

“But most griffons don't care about expansion,” Twilight protested. “Any expansion takes, you know, work and effort.”

“True,” Luna interjected. “But she has managed to play off common fears to unite the griffons into a sort of mob mentality. She has convinced them that the real threat is the changelings, and the most recent propaganda is that changelings intend to infiltrate their homes and replace their children before killing them in their sleep, using pony settlements as bases to do so.”

Twilight snorted.

“It is as ridiculous as it sounds, we presume?” Luna asked, unable to suppress her incredulous smile.

Twilight scoffed. “Please. Unless a changeling could take the form of a bit, they'd starve there. They're probably more worried about a changeling stealing their bit stash.”

Celestia nodded. “They have declared war. They are already conducting changeling raids on their own people and have sworn to eliminate the ‘changeling menace’. Something must be done.”

“Ok,” Twilight said, digesting this. This was definitely bad; but not unsalvageable. “So peace conference? Talks? We could run them here in Canterlot, or even up in the Crystal Empire if they doubt your impartiality.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Right?” Twilight tried.

“There is something else you need to know,” Celestia said, her voice a bit tight.

“I gathered,” Twilight said with a nervous smile.

“You are known as the queen of the changelings.”

“I figured that would be old news by now,” Twilight said, apprehension dampening her vocal filter.

“And your friends…”

“What happened?” Twilight demanded, but she already knew the answer.

“Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Applejack have all been reported missing.”

“Foalnapped,” Luna said bluntly. “Likely to be used as bait.”

Twilight jumped to her hooves, setting them on the table. “And you haven't rescued them?!” she almost shrieked.

“Officially, we don't know that they've been taken by the griffons,” Celestia insisted. “If we do invade to get them back—even if we succeed in getting them back—we risk sparking war. Other nations are watching closely.”

“And if we start a war, everypony loses,” Luna concluded.

“And so it falls to me to find a solution that saves my friends and stops this war before it even starts,” Twilight summarized. She pursed her lips and dropped back down into her seat. She was not prepared for this.

Celestia nodded. “It is a huge task. We know there isn't much we can do on the surface of things, but if there is anything-”

“No,” Twilight interrupted, standing up. “This is not your problem. This is my problem, and I will solve it. I, the queen of the changelings.”

If either princess found this affirmation strange, neither showed any sign of it. “We trust you, Twilight,” Luna said.

Twilight nodded, a little smile playing at her lips. “Thank you,” she said. She smiled more fully. “I won't let anypony down.”

Luna squinted. Was it just her, or did Twilight’s teeth look just a little bit sharper?

Twilight jumped off the chair. “I'd better get started,” she said. “Thanks for the meal!”

The two sisters watched her leave. As soon as the door shut behind her, Luna looked back over at Celestia. “I am uncertain about this,” she confessed. “It is a large responsibility for somepony so young and inexperienced.”

“It is,” Celestia agreed, “but I have no doubt that she will think of a solution that plays to her strengths of diplomacy and study.”

* * *

Twilight returned to the hive, flying slowly. Needless to say, she had a lot on her mind. Ideas swirled through her head, each discarded just as quickly as it had arrived. How could she do this? Could she do this? She was just one pony! And how could foalnapping them possibly be a good idea? What was Grinda thinking? What was her endgame?

A flash of movement in her peripheral vision made her look. A blue pegasus was flying along as quickly as he could towards the hive. Then she realized that his goal was her. Her eyes narrowed.

And then they widened. Wait. Wasn't that…?

“Princess!” he called as he approached. “Princess!”

Twilight squinted. “Tinder?” It was. Twilight grimaced. If he was here… “Oh, no. Fluttershy's been foalnapped, hasn't she?”

Tinder was taken aback, enough to stop and hover in place. “Y- yes, Princess.”

Had Twilight not been so preoccupied with her planning, she might have realized just how clairvoyant she must have appeared. She looked down, thinking. If Fluttershy was captured, that just left Rainbow Dash. Unless Rainbow Dash had already been foalnapped? Were all five in need of a rescue?

She became aware of Tinder rubbing his hooves together nervously. Realizing just how distraught Tinder was, she reached out and touched his shoulder. “Don't worry, Tinder. We'll get her back. We'll get them all back.”

Tinder met her eyes. “I will do anything I can to help,” he swore.

Twilight smiled. “Careful. I'll hold you to that.”

Tinder merely nodded, just as determined as before. “Anything.”

Twilight cracked a smile. No wonder he got along so well with Fluttershy.

Really, though, he was right. She was not alone. She had a whole hive of changelings ready and willing to back her up. Changelings who could go anywhere, be anypony.

Do anything.

And the first part of her fledgling plan fell into place.

Chapter 8

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 10

The griffon general Griffith read the report and nodded. Again, the changelings were making the hit and run attacks. Not even attacking; just as if teasing. Taunting.

It was a fatal mistake.

He pushed another pin in on his map. Oh, they may have tried to be sneaky, and vary their approach direction; but mapping out the incidents had showed that changelings had always come from one general area: the badlands.

But where exactly was their hive? The badlands were just that: bad lands. Not places you wanted to march an army, especially if you had no idea just how far down they’d flown. Among the reports of changelings, there were also many reports of sudden, blinding sandstorms in that area from their patrol groups, and an army with no morale was no better than no army at all. Already he’d heard reports of griffons deserting the army, and at least one of those a griffoness from one of the scouting parties. He scowled. This tent was getting pretty stuffy, anyway. He stepped out.

His path took him right outside, and right past the five prisoners. The orange pony shook her head free from the restraint. “It ain’t gonna work!” she called.

Griffith rolled his eyes. “Muzzle her,” he ordered. Again, he silently added. He spread his wings and flew upwards. These ponies were resilient… and irritating. If Grinda hadn’t insisted that this was the best way to draw out the changeling queen, he would never have gone for it. The rainbow-colored one was already wearing a metal muzzle and chains wrapped thrice around her wings, and she still required three griffons to maintain when she got all riled up. The pink one was wearing a hood, and even still he could hear her chattering, badly enough that it was starting to infest his dreams. These stupid ponies had been nothing but a pain in his-

His mental train of thought derailed. There by the borders of the camp were four changelings, one of whom was holding a white flag of truce. They were protected under a thick green magical shield.

And they were nearing the camp.

Griffith nodded, impressed against his will. It took guts to march all the way down here to the main griffon army. Maybe they’d leave alive. He whistled sharply to bring the attention of his army over, and then landed, drawing all attention over.

The four changelings didn’t flinch at all. While two remained upright, holding the shield, two leaned over, working together to set up four bug-like artifacts. When all were in place, the bugs’ wings opened, and green light shot out, connecting them all together. As the changelings backed away, they grew together and morphed until a green magic portal seemed to open; like a round picture with a smokey frame surrounding it.

A purple alicorn’s face appeared. Upon her head was a small black crown, with three balls atop the spikes. “General Griffith,” she began.

Griffith raised an eyebrow, moderately surprised that she called him by name. He knew hers, of course; her picture was plastered over all the posters. “Twilight Sparkle.”

If she felt any offense that he had neglected to use her royal title, she didn’t show it. “I know you have my friends, and so now you have my attention. What do you want?”

“Your head,” Griffith answered swiftly. “On my wall.”

The griffons laughed. Good.

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “I’m flattered; but without my friends’ freedom, I won’t even give you a swish of my tail.”

Griffith narrowed his eyes, knowing full well that his entire army was watching. “We don’t negotiate with changelings.”

“Leave my friends out of this,” Twilight insisted. “They’re not part of it. It’s me you want; let them go.”

Griffith just smirked, suddenly enjoying this power he had over her.

One side of Twilight’s mouth curled up. “It sounds difficult, carrying five valuable hostages around with you everywhere you go. If Equestria were to find out you have them, of course, that would spark a public outrage; and it would be quite difficult to face war on multiple fronts, from both the changelings, ponies, and whoever else decided to try and gain a larger slice of the pie; and it definitely would be quite difficult to paint us changelings as aggressors then. Furthermore, the badlands cover a large swath of Equestria; and what’s not sandy is rocky, there are dead trees wherever there are trees, there’s no shade and even less water. And I hear the sandstorms are terrible this time of year. You might not even be able to…” She waved a claw in front of her face, “see your own claw in front of you.”

Griffith tensed. He recognized that claw; or at the very least, the ring she wore. It was an exact copy of the one he wore. She was taunting him, again. Time to return the favor. “Bold words, from a coward who hides behind walls and disguises.”

That seemed to set her off slightly. “Changelings are apex predators,” she snarled, baring her very blunt, flat, pony, herbivore teeth. “The only reason you’re still alive right now is I want my friends back alive and unharmed. But if it’s a battle you want, it’s a battle you’ll have. Bring my friends and your armies to the plains twenty leagues east of Griffonstone in three days’ time. I’ll make certain they’re unharmed; and then, upon my word as queen of the changelings, we’ll have a battle the likes of which you’ll never hear of again.” Her eyes narrowed. “But if they’re harmed in any way, we will disappear, and the infiltrations will resume—only this time, upon all of your lands. In your cities. In your settlements. And you, and your children, and your children’s children will be hunting us for the rest of their lives.”

And here she goes and solves my problem for me. Griffith neared the portal, passing over his dagger in favor of drawing his battleaxe. “I accept your proposal. We shall indeed have our battle… and the changeling threat shall be wiped off the face of Equestria!” He brought down his weapon, crushing the bug pods. Magic sparked and crackled as they separated and crumbled, and he smashed them again and again until they were barely recognizable as magic artifacts.

The griffons cheered. Griffith turned to face them. “Prepare to march!” he ordered. “The time of our triumph approaches! And we shall be victorious!”

* * *

It was early morning. The fog still clung onto the ground. And all around the atmosphere was tense. Today was the day!

Assuming, of course, that Twilight Sparkle kept her word. Doubtful (being a lying changeling); but still possible.

It hadn’t taken three days to get here. It hadn’t even taken one. So, having arrived early, they had set up camp and prepared for the changelings to come. But the griffons had gotten restless. They weren’t so good at being shoved together in such a small-ish area, and the ominous threat of war had left everyone on edge. Griffith had briefly wondered, after being impelled to break up yet another fight, if Twilight had done this on purpose.

Perhaps more to keep busy than anything else, they’d built a little stand for the hostages. Grinda, who approved of this course of action, had even sent a giant iron cage for Twilight along with this week’s pay, and it hung from the stand, swaying ominously in the air, ready to hold the threat.

“Sir!”

Griffith looked up, and looked where the lookout was pointing. A purple alicorn had materialized from the fog, striding forward purposefully. To her left, another unicorn walked, wearing a tall pointed hat and cape.

“Trixie?” the orange earth pony asked, squinting.

Apparently it was; or maybe they all knew ponies among these changeling traitors. Either way, closely following them was a long row of changelings, marching in lockstep. Behind them, another row.

Griffith smirked. “Ha. Here they…”

Another row followed. And another. And another.

“...come?”

And another. And another. How many changelings were there? It seemed like they were trying to drown out the sand in that black chitin; row after row marched out of the fog and into view in perfect lockstep.

In perfect lockstep.

They neared, and the griffons tensed as they lined up in a counter-formation. Weapons bristled, claws gleamed, beaks flared. It was a powderkeg, waiting to explode.

Twilight stopped and held up her hoof, and the changelings stopped marching. When they’d stopped, she continued walking forward, nearing the stand. She walked under and out of sight of those on top; but not for long. With a burst of green light, she appeared right in front of her bound friends, making the griffon bodyguards jump.

“Are you girls ok?” she demanded, running a hoof over the nearest strap on Rainbow’s body. She reached over to the strap on Applejack. “Did they hurt you at all?”

Rainbow Dash shook the muzzle off enough to talk. “Twilight! It's a trap!” she warned.

Twilight smirked and held a hoof over her lips. “Shh! Don't give it away!” she hissed in a stage whisper, waggling her eyebrows.

Rainbow was stunned into silence.

With a quick burst of green energy, Twilight reappeared before Griffith. “I’m here,” she said, her tone formal once again. “Release them.”

Griffith nodded. He turned back around, as if to give the order…

Then spun back around and drove his knife into Twilight’s chest. Twilight coughed wetly and collapsed back on her haunches, hooves covering the handle.

Her friends gasped and cried out. “Twilight!”

“You monster!”

Even Trixie gasped in shock.

And then Twilight stopped. She straightened up, standing on all four hooves. She looked down at the dagger embedded in her chest, as if curious. She lit her horn.

And then she pulled the dagger out if her chest and held it up, examining it. There wasn’t even a trace of blood on it; it had come out completely clean.

“Fascinating,” Twilight whispered as she rolled the blade up with her green magic as easily as if it had been made of tin foil instead of hardened steel. She dropped it disinterestedly, and stepped on it with a forehoof. “And what are you going to do after you kill me, I wonder?”

Griffith took a slight step back, hyperventilating. Only his training kept him from shrieking. Impossible! That was impossible! How…?

“I know what I'm going to do,” Twilight continued pleasantly, her voice still in that low, calm tone. “Ithir, if you would, please?”

The nearest griffon bodyguard—how many of them had there been on the platform?—lunged at him. In midair, with a burst of green flames, the bodyguard was revealed as Ithir, and he buried his fangs in his throat. Griffith collapsed, his body twitching weakly.

This must have been the signal; Trixie slumped over, her facade broken, panting as if she'd just run a marathon. As she did, all the changelings save the first two rows disappeared.

“Magic!”

But there was yet more magic to be had.

Having been forced together in a small area against their nature, the griffons had tended to congregate in groups based on where they’d come from (because those were the few griffons they could actually tolerate). And the groups hadn't mixed very well.

And some of those groups of griffons weren’t actually griffons.

With further bursts of green fire, changelings revealed themselves as such; usually in large groups, but every once in a while a lone changeling appeared, having infiltrated other groups. Their attacks were simple; it was pure biting. And the bites were startlingly effective; it seemed to only take one bite to leave the griffons on the ground, twitching.

There was the sound of metal hitting wood, and Twilight’s friends looked around to see that they’d been freed. Twilight grinned. “If you want to help, you can; but I think we’ve got it handled.”

“No way!” Rainbow shouted. “I want in!” She looked over the edge, and her mouth curled up. “Sonic painboom!” she cried as she leapt off the edge.

Twilight shook her head, but could not keep the smile off her face. Especially as her other friends jumped off the platform as well.

Soon enough, the changelings’ (and now ponies’) influence spread; more griffons were hitting the ground hard, and only a few of the changelings had been injured. What made it more fascinating was the fact that the changelings could heal from almost any injury; Rarity gasped as a changeling was nearly split in half by an axe, only to burst into green fire and land, completely whole, snarling... and drawing the griffon's attention away from the other changeling behind him.

As the tide turned, some griffons began to flee; but before any could leave, another squadron of changelings burst from the hills, having been disguised as rocks. But they weren’t here to fight; instead, a green shield shimmered into existence, trapping them inside. Pound as the griffons might, there was simply no way for them to break the shield.

And with their attentions on the shield, they were left open to attacks from behind.

And just as the final skirmishes were winding down (and changelings were wandering around, hacking up colored gunk into the injured changelings’ mouths, nearly making Rarity throw up something herself), Fluttershy looked up and gasped. A new army approached, flying hard towards the fray. Grinda must have sent reinforcements!

Twilight gasped as well. “This wasn’t planned,” she murmured. Still, a queen must always be willing to step up to any threat. She narrowed her eyes, and took off, charging directly towards the approaching army, outstripping even Rainbow Dash in her rush to defend her changelings and friends from this new threat. With a shouted command in a language nopony understood, the shield was dropped, and she flew singlehandedly to face this new group.

“Twilight!”

* * *

The griffons marched in a large group. They were jovial, if a bit injured. Many of them wore field dressings, bandages and slings.

In the center of the group marched a few that weren’t griffons. A mare with a yellow coat and a long pink mane sobbed silently, tears dampening the chain around her neck. A pegasus with a rainbow-colored mane and bound in plenty of chains, tossed her head irritably at the bit in her mouth. An orange earth pony mare scowled at the ground, chewing defiantly on the bit in hers. A pink earth pony walked slowly, her mane deflated. A white unicorn stood with her head held as high as she could, but it was clear that she was fighting back tears.

And bringing up the rear, and surrounded by the most uninjured of guards with weapons out and in claw, there was a purple alicorn, head bowed, bound by all four hooves with thick chains, trapped in a giant iron cage.

Chapter 11

To say the entry into the griffon capital was triumphant would be a bit of an understatement. As the griffons arrived, the gates were pulled open, and crowds had gathered to cheer them home. Griffons of all ages waved flags, cheered, threw dirt in the air (confetti was prohibitively expensive) and threw old fruit and rocks at the ponies and changeling queen in the cage. Much of it missed. Some did not.

Their procession marched through the city, down the main streets and up to the main castle, where Grinda stood on a balcony overhead, watching, with a little smile on her beak. Two guards stood by her side.

General Griffith walked up to the base and held up his spear with both claws as if in triumphant offering, and the griffons behind him stopped and bowed in respect. “My queen!” he shouted, and then waited while the crowd quieted somewhat to hear him speak. He straightened up. “My queen!” he repeated, “we have done it! The changeling threat is no more!”

The crowd cheered again.

“And as a token of our success, we bring… the changeling queen, Twilight Sparkle.”

Boos and hisses rent the air. A new flurry of rocks were launched, and the ponies did their best to protest while shielding themselves with their bound limbs as best they could while being chained up.

Grinda nodded regally and waited until the crowd had quieted once more before speaking. “Bring them up here, General.”

The crowd cheered as the changeling queen was carried into the castle. A few more rocks were thrown, many of them clattering off the cage bars. They disappeared from sight, and two guards closed the doors behind the miserable procession.

Soon, they emerged on the balcony, once again in full view of the crowd. The griffons carrying the cage dumped the queen unceremoniously out; the chains still binding her and holding her down.

Grinda stepped back and snapped her claws. Another guard neared, carrying something that he gently handed to her. She took it and held it up, letting the crowd see the giant axe she now held (and letting them get a few more cheers and taunts in). She turned back to the bound changeling. “Twilight Sparkle, queen of the changelings. You stand accused of crimes against griffonkind. You have been tried and found guilty, and worthy of death. Have you any last words?”

Twilight looked down, not saying anything.

Grinda smirked.

And then she reared back and brought the axe down.

The ponies cried out in despair; but they were overwhelmed by the cheers from the griffons outside. Grinda ignored the sobs of the yellow pony behind her as the white one tried to comfort her, and the rainbow one’s fighting the chains angrily in a vain attempt to escape. She stepped up to the balcony again as two griffon servants appeared with mops to clean the blood up. “To celebrate the death of our enemies and the safety of our hatchlings, tonight, there will be…” She paused for emphasis. “A glorious feast!” She smirked as the crowd cheered mildly. “Paid for by myself, of course,” she added, and the cheers rose exponentially. She spread her claws wide, taking in the adulation. “Come! It is a national holiday, a day of celebration!” She reached into her pockets and threw two heaping clawfuls of bits into the air, sending the griffons below scrambling for them (and fistfights breaking out over them as well). “And there will be more where that came from!” she promised. “This will be a day our hatchlings remember for the rest of their lives!”

Letting the crowd cheer, she turned around. She made a waving motion with her claw, and the attending griffons closed the doors behind her.

The queen strode forward, stepping around the corpse of her fallen enemy, and placed herself on the throne. She looked over at some of the griffons nearest to the door and around the room, and pointed. “You, you, you four, and you, leave us,” she said with a dismissive gesture. “Prepare for the feast tonight.” A little smirk crossed her beak. “Bring empty bellies and empty purses.”

The griffons nodded and bowed, not sure why they were being singled out but not about to question it or complain, and left. As the doors slammed shut behind them, other guards stepped up, barring the door with thick, oak beams, and others stepped forward and closed the thick, light-blocking curtains in front of the windows. Now, the only light present came from the various candles in the walls.

There was a brief pause.

The queen slid off the throne and stepped down, slowly walking forward and then stopping when she stood in the middle of the room. She looked around, meeting the eyes of every griffon left in the room. One of the guards shuffled in place. Another licked his beak.

And then Grinda began to laugh. It started low, as a small chuckle deep in her belly, and grew until the force of the laughter shook her body. She threw her head back and laughed as green flames overtook her body and then dissipated to reveal one very exultant changeling queen. Around her, the griffons and captive ponies began to drop their disguises, bathing the room in eerie green light, and hesitantly join in on her laughter. The ‘corpse’ of the changeling queen burst into flames, revealing the tag team of Ithir and Nemri, neither the worse for the wear of their ‘fatal’ illusion. The ceiling fizzled and disappeared, revealing behind that false projection rows upon rows of cocoons hanging from the real ceiling, each containing a sedated griffon and guarded by numerous changelings, ready to inject more venom into or cast more slime over any weak spot in the cocoon at a moment’s notice.

And then Twilight stopped laughing, suddenly breaking down into coughing. The changelings stopped laughing as well, quickly shifting their attention to their hacking queen. Tinder took a small step forward (stumbling as he accidentally caught his hoof on the chains he'd worn when disguised as Fluttershy), and he wasn't the only one to do so. Was she ok?

“Memo to self,” she grumbled once she was able to stop. “Engaging in maniacal laughter should be limited for the protection of the larynx.” She rubbed a hoof against her chest one last time, then wandered over to underneath the largest cocoon and looked up. She recognized the nearest changeling. “Hrit, get her down here, please.”

Hrit saluted. With a burst of green fire, he formed his right foreleg into a large scythe-like blade, and sliced the strand binding the real Grinda to the ceiling.

Twilight gasped. “Not like-!”

The cocoon tumbled end over end through the air and landed on the ground with a soggy ‘thump’, rocking and rolling the griffon inside.

“…that,” Twilight finished, rubbing her temple with a hoof. “Never mind. Just, get her out of there. Gently this time, please.”

Hrit had the decency to look sheepish as he carefully sliced down the cocoon, thankfully having changed his scythe blade into a smaller, much more manageable blade. The griffon queen Grinda flopped out, spreading green goo on the tile floor, coughing as air replaced the cocoon fluid in her lungs.

“Congratulations,” Twilight said, taking advantage of Grinda’s current incapacitated state to talk freely. “The great queen Grinda has defeated the changelings, routed their armies, and publicly executed their queen; and now they’ll never infest her land again. Griffonia is safe and happy.” She stomped politely, as if applauding. “Excellent work.”

Ginda, still coughing, looked up at her with murderous eyes.

Twilight frowned. “Oh, what’s that for?” she asked innocently. “I certainly don’t want a war with the griffons, and I’m more than happy to pretend to have my changelings destroyed and me killed if it brings peace.” She smiled. “Besides, if the changelings are all dead, there’s no changeling threat to anywhere in Equestria; and we’re free to roam the land unchallenged, because, well, we don't exist anymore.” She turned around, as if thinking. “Really, I should be thanking you for this.”

Grinda snarled. She attempted to flex her claws and, to her relief, realized that whatever sedative was in the cocoon had for the most part worn off.

And Twilight’s undefended back was to her.

Instantly, she lashed out, claws outstretched, intending to eviscerate her. But she suddenly found herself trapped, unable to move; and now glowing a peculiar shade of green. Every changeling in the room had their horn glowing, and their magic held her firmly in place.

Twilight smiled, the sounds of magic letting her know that Grinda had reacted exactly as she'd expected. “Not this time,” she said, turning back around, “and not ever. It's all over, Grinda. The changelings have won, and this battle will never be fought again.”

“You think you've won?” Grinda spat. “You'll have to kill me, or I'll reveal you all; and even if you replace me-”

“Will you?” Twilight challenged, loudly cutting her off. She turned towards the window and took a few slow steps forward. “You will admit to the griffons that we changelings tricked them all, that their great queen who commanded the army that defeated the changelings and slew their queen was actually a changeling herself, the great General Griffith that everyone saw was a fake, and that we played the entire. Griffon. Nation. For fools?” She snorted and turned around. “Go right ahead. All the bits in Equestria wouldn’t be enough to buy back their respect after that.”

Grinda opened her beak and snarled… but no words came out. Twilight was right. She had no choice but to play along with the deception if she wanted any chance to remain the queen of the griffons.

And then she felt two fangs pierce her neck. She collapsed to the ground again, and though she tried desperately to push herself up, her body was simply refusing to obey her commands.

“Sorry about that,” Twilight said pleasantly, “but I'm gonna need you to stay right there for a while.” She lit her horn, and a ring of green fire burst into existence in front of her as the changeling who had bitten her stepped over her. “I've got a lot of changelings to move,” she finished pleasantly.

It was a portal. Frustratingly, she realized that it didn't even have to take the changelings very far; the griffons would be too focused on the coming festivities to be standing guard over anything.

About halfway through the process of teleporting changelings away, Twilight looked back at Grinda. “Oh, and I couldn’t actually figure out how the artifact worked in time; so the feast and all the bits I was giving out? Those bits actually came from your personal treasury.” She smiled. “Sorry about that! But do enjoy the party,” she added. “I even hired this griffon, Gustave Le Grand, to do the desserts. He specializes in éclairs. They're a pit pricey, but let me tell you: they're fit for a queen.”

The changeling about to enter the portal sniggered as he jumped through.

Once most of the changelings were gone, Twilight closed her eyes and burst into green fire. When it faded, General Griffith stood there. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few hostages to release back to the pony land.”

In a few moments, any trace of changelings were gone; griffons and bound ponies were the only ones there. Only the rows and rows of cocoons overhead gave any indication that they had even been there at all.

The procession marched to the door, but suddenly Twilight paused. She looked up, as if having forgotten something and trying to recall what it was; and then she disappeared in a burst of green light.

Grinda didn’t have enough time to blink before Twilight suddenly appeared in front of her and drove a hoof into the side of her face.

“And that's for foalnapping my friends!”

By the time Grinda could see one again, they had left. As soon as she could force herself up, she half-stumbled, half-dragged herself over to the door. She tore it open to see her guards standing to the side, completely ignorant of what had just transpired.

“Stop him!” she croaked, pointing futily after where Twilight had left.

The guards seemed taken aback. Was she ok? Did she want the ponies back? Why would she want the ponies back?

Fine. She could speak their language. “Fifty bits to whoever brings me Griffith!”

Now they responded. In a flurry of armor and feathers, they tore down the hall and around the corner he had disappeared around.

'Disappeared' being the key term there.

Queen Grinda had managed to recover enough to get down the hall, and when she turned the corner, she saw her guards standing still, looking down in curiosity at the small flecks of green fire dancing on the stones. As they watched, it slowly faded from view.

Twilight had won.

* * *

In the Crystal Empire, two ponies waited by the balcony, watching towards the south. Both knew that Twilight was more likely to teleport in; but just in case she’d decided to fly, they wanted to see her right away.

Cadence groaned slightly and reached back to rub at the back of her barrel. Shining looked over in concern, but she silenced him with a small shake of her head. She was fine.

And then a burning ring of fire appeared in the middle of the room, burning brightly and green. A purple alicorn stepped out of the flames, completely unharmed. “I'm pleased to say that any rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated.” She grinned.

Shining Armor chuckled even as he and Cadence ran over to embrace her. She'd always wanted to say that.

“But in lieu of flowers, donations will be accepted for the Soft Hooves Orphanage on Third Avenue.”

That was a new addition to the speech, though. Shining pulled back. “So everything went well?”

“Exactly as planned,” Twilight said with a grin. “The griffons are partying, we’re home safe; everything went well.”

“Ah, I knew you could do it,” Shining Armor said, pulling her back into a hug.

“Me, too,” Cadence said, nuzzling her. “You’ve really grown into this leadership thing.”

“I had some good examples,” Twilight said pleasantly. “Thank you both. For everything.”

“You’re not the only one who should be saying ‘thank you’,” Shining muttered under his breath, earning himself a sharp smack from one of Cadence’s wings.

Twilight glanced between them. “Did I miss something?”

“Well, now is as good a time as any, I suppose,” Cadence said. She tellingly reached back and gently rubbed her barrel.

There was a pause.

“You… have a stomachache?” Twilight guessed.

Shining Armor slammed his hoof into his forehead. Even for his sister, that was a bit much.

“What?” Twilight asked, looking between them again. “What?” she repeated, a bit more desperately this time.

A few moments later, a delighted shriek rang out through the Crystal Empire.

* * *

Defeating the griffons and rescuing her friends had been easy enough. Convincing them to stay in the hive while changelings disguised as them went out in their place back to the capitol? That part had been a bit more difficult. But eventually she’d managed to convince all five ponies to stay at the hive. Besides, it was much easier to teleport changelings, what with their magic being on the same wavelength as hers now.

Still, it had been a lot of magic, and besides, flying was good exercise. Twilight landed by the entrance and the changeling standing guard bowed. Twilight gave a respectful nod back and continued inside.

As it turns out, her friends had actually adapted well in hive. Fluttershy had found working in the nursery enjoyable, but seemed to really enjoy being reunited with Tinder; the two sat high up in a corner, just talking. She waved at Twilight.

Others…

“Hey, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash darted over. “Look, it’s been fun here and all, but you know what this hive needs? A group of specialized fliers.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“Hear me out.” She spread her hooves in a small rainbow-esque motion. “Rainbolts. Best of the best changelings, putting on shows across Equestria. Special guest: me.”

Twilight grinned wryly. “We’ll see,” she said. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. “It’s been fun, but I’m ready to get back home.” She nudged Tank with her hips. “Tank is, too,” she added, and he agreed.

Twilight nodded. “Alright,” she agreed. “Let’s go gather everypony else.”

Over in one of the larger rooms, the mushroom farm was expanding. Changelings were scattered around, laying down just enough water to keep things moist. Applejack stood up from examining a new growth and wiped her brow, and when she heard somepony behind her, she brightened.

“Looking good!” Twilight said, looking around at the mushrooms that now carpeted this room. This was a vast improvement over what had been here before.

“I’m much better with trees,” Applejack admitted, “but it’s been going pretty well. Seriously, you really needed an earth pony in here.” She glanced around at the various changelings working, then looked back at Twilight. “How'd it go for you?”

“Great,” Twilight answered. “Let’s just say that I think the griffons will be leaving us alone for a very, very long time.”

“That’s great!” She looked around. “We ready to go home? As nice as this is, I’m really hankering for-”

“An apple?” Rainbow guessed snarkily.

“No,” Applejack said quickly, but she pursed her lips, pinned her ears, and was unable to supply an alternative (or meet anypony’s eyes). Rainbow Dash chuckled.

Rarity had also found something she enjoyed. And, of course, she’d gotten over the slime thing faster than Twilight had. Thus it was when Twilight entered the nymph chamber, there were many little nymphs running around, many of them wearing capes or false manes (many of which seemed to be styled after hers), made out of slime. Pinkie Pie was here, too, holding the little changelings in her hooves and making them fly (and squeak excitedly the whole time. The nymphs and Pinkie Pie, that is).

Rarity looked up from where she lay, holding a needle and thread in her magic. “This really is a fascinating material to work with,” she said pleasantly. “Very strong, very stretchy.”

Twilight grimaced. She still wasn’t so good with the whole slime thing. Maybe because it sortof looked like green melted cheese? “I’m glad you like it,” she said.

“Oh, it would never sell,” Rarity amended with just a hint of disappointment, “but it’s certainly fun to play with.” She stood up and stretched, forelegs out, her back arching not unlike a cat. “Mmm. I take it we’re about ready to go home?”

“Just about,” Twilight said.

There was murmured approval, broken only by Pinkie Pie. “Aw, do we have to?” she asked, her lower lip jutting out, eyes wide, holding the nymph under her chin. Even the nymph seemed to be getting into this, its eyes widening as well.

“Pinkie Pie, you can’t say you really enjoy being… underground like this?” Rarity asked, raising a hoof and looking around.

Twilight got the feeling that that had not been the first word that had come to mind.

“Oh, it’s not that,” Pinkie said cheerily. “I grew up on a rock farm, remember? I’m used to being underground and in caves! I’m just sad because if we leave now, we’ll miss the party that’s going on tonight!”

“There’s a party going on tonight?” Twilight glanced over, and a changeling nearby nodded eagerly to confirm.

“Duh,” Pinkie said as if it were obvious. She threw her forelegs wide, making the nymph she was still holding in one of them giggle. “The party we’re throwing for saving the changelings and making sure that the griffons never bother them again!”

“We didn’t do much,” Applejack said wryly. “Sat around, looked pretty, started a mushroom patch… mushroom, field?” She cocked her head, suddenly unsure. “What do you call them, anyway?” she wondered aloud.

“A party sounds good to me,” Rainbow Dash interrupted.

Twilight looked around. Rarity bobbed her head. Fluttershy, who had joined them but was still standing next to Tinder, nodded hopefully. Twilight couldn’t help but grin. “Alright. A party it is, then.”

“Woohoo!” Pinkie cheered. “That’s the best kind of decree, Queen Twilight.” She bowed jokingly. Her friends copied her, most of them chuckling as they did.

It might have been a joke; but Twilight was aghast at the implications. “Oh, no. No, no, no,” she said, walking over and quickly lifting up each of their heads with a hoof. “My friends. You bow to nopony. You are my friends… and I am Twilight Sparkle, Queen of the Changelings.”

Prologue / Recap of Book 1

Twilight Sparkle trudged onward, the hot sun beating down on her face and neck; her mane doing precious little to protect her from its punishing rays. Last time Bruch had led her here, she was leading a large task force of royal guards in the middle of the night. In the day, the sands grew hot and the wind blew hotter, and she now knew why this desert had earned the moniker of ‘badlands’.

Still, she couldn’t show weakness, not in front of her changelings. There was only one real rule about changeling royalty: there must always be a queen. And if the former queen was killed, then it stood to reason that her killer would make a better queen, and therefore deserved the power and authority queenship came with.

At least, that’s what the changeling magic apparently thought, anyway. In Twilight’s opinion, dispensing huge quantities of power and magic simply due to physical fighting superiority was no basis for a system of government.

Twilight brought a hoof up to rub at her aching jaw. The magic also apparently felt the need to change her body. Her eyes had changed, her horn had lengthened and begun to curl, and just recently her jaw had begun to grow. She’d thought she’d outgrown growing pains, but the changeling magic had other ideas.

That was a process that would require much more study.

She glanced back towards Jarret and the small group of changelings he led. With no other option—apparently, the love didn’t store very well and needed to be stirred constantly—they had elected to carry the love collected in their own bodies, giving each changeling the odd impression of looking pregnant with triplets. They hadn’t walked so much as shuffled the whole journey. Twilight couldn’t help but crack a half-smile. She’d need to research something for that, helping make love be more portable. Or at least last longer. With time, it congealed and turned crusty and unpalatable, necessitating the cleaning and scraping of the storage pits.

As if on cue, Ponneka walked by, keeping a respectful distance from the others and keeping a respectable distance from the edge of the group. As a changeling who had an (admittedly unhealthy) fascination with sensual conduct with ponies, she had been permanent pit-cleaner, target practice dummy and all-around pariah. Ideally, Twilight would want all her changelings to be united as one.

Then again, what was ideal for a changeling? She’d already tried having changelings stay with her friends in Ponyville, but only one changeling had stayed. Apparently, living with ponies wasn’t a very changeling-y thing to do; and most of her volunteers had gone along with her idea more out of a sense of duty (and because she was much nicer and more reasonable than the previous queen) than an actual desire to live freely among ponies.

As she pondered, she suddenly ran into the back of Bruch. Bruch had been the first changeling to betray Queen Chrysalis, and had been an invaluable advisor for her.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind nearly being run over. “We're here,” he said.

Twilight looked up at the rocks. Though they looked foreboding, if she squinted, she could barely recognize some of the rock features from the night of the raid, back before any of this had started and her biggest concern was her studies on griffon relations. It seemed so foreign, and yet so familiar at the same time.

She exhaled. Like it or not, she was home.

Chapter 9

Grahm grinned to himself as he flew into the desert. In his oh so humble opinion, this had been an excellent plan. Outright infiltration with a hefty helping of sneakery? It sent shivers through his chitin and he loved it.

But as he flew, something occurred to him. He had been on pit cleaning duty for so long that he hadn’t seen a Wonderbolts show for almost ten years. What if ponies had retired, died, or left since then? It would certainly blow his cover far too early if were he to appear as a pony that had died five years previously.

After some thought, he decided that he would do the safe thing, and disguise himself as a pony that he knew was both alive and kicking, and a current member of the Wonderbolts.

* * *

A griffon soldier lowered his binoculars and turned around. “Incoming!” he called.

“Changelings?” another asked excitedly.

He snorted. “Unless changelings suddenly started farting rainbows, no.”

“Farting rainbows?” A female griffon pushed her way up and snatched the binoculars away. She peered through them and growled. “I know that pony...”

* * *

Grahm landed and skidded to a stop, sending sand flying. He grinned. Perfect landing.

And his arrival was quickly heralded with brandished sharp beaks, claws, and various knives and daggers.

His winning smile didn't fade. “‘Sup, guys?” he started.

“What are you doing here?” asked the griffon with the biggest helmet.

The best lies were composed mostly of truth. “Oh, you know. Just doing a little recon, flight practice for distance; you know, that sort of thing. Thought I'd stop and say hi.”

“Sure, you did. And it’s not because killing a Wonderbolt would tick off the entirety of Cloudsdale and universally paint us as bad guys?”

Grahm gave her a cheeky grin. “Nah. Nothing like that. But seriously. What are you all doing this far from home? Military exercise?”

The griffons chuckled. “You could call it that,” one answered.

“We’re hunting changelings.”

Grahm shuddered. “Ugh,” he said. “Had plenty of those at the royal wedding.” He reared up and threw a couple punches. “We kicked their sorry butts, though!”

His lovely, planned spiel on how much he hated changelings was interrupted as the griffons were pushed aside and a griffoness poked her head through the crowd. “Rainbow Dash,” she growled.

“Ah, I see my fame precedes me,” Grahm said, taking a bow.

“Fame?” The griffon laughed dryly. “Yeah, sure. Famous for running into trash cans at flight camp.”

Obviously, Grahm had never even seen this griffon before. But the real Rainbow had. Awkward. Maybe he should have tried a more obscure Wonderbolt, like that Soarin guy. Or did he end up quitting? He had no idea.

Still, when acting under pressure, ponies crack; changelings act harder. “Yeah, sure. I hit those trash cans going so fast it was like they were standing still.” He looked wistfully off into the distance, as if remembering some great feat.

“They were standing still, dweeb,” the griffoness said, but she seemed to be cracking a smile. Small, but definitely a smile.

It was working. “I make everything look like it’s standing still. Just that awesome.”

The griffoness rolled her eyes.

Acting harder, Grahm neared and flicked her with his tail. “Aw, don’t be jealous; you know I still love you.”

The griffoness punched Grahm in the shoulder. “Don’t you get sappy on me, Rainbow Crash,” she said.

Ah. Nickname. Horseapples. Grahm didn’t even know this griffon’s real name! But the majority of names started with G. If Rainbow only knew one griffon, she’d probably do something with that. G-ster? No. G-girl? Sounded like a lame superhero. Maybe just…? “Aw, come on, G,” Grahm said. “You know me. I don’t get sappy; I get awesome.”

The griffoness rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Dweeb.”

Grahm grinned as he sensed her pleasure at seeing an old friend. His ploy had worked. Still got it.

* * *

Grahm followed along with the rest of the griffons as they searched. They were out looking for any traces of the changelings, like hoofprints or slime.

Just like Twilight had thought. What a good queen she was!

It seemed to be going smoothly so far. On the way, he learned that they didn’t really know what they were looking for, didn’t really know how to tell who was a changeling, and he also learned that the griffoness’s name was Gilda.

And then it was time for lunch. Grahm made like he wasn’t hungry—and he wasn’t—but Gilda held out a chicken leg for him anyway.

“You’re crazy, G,” Grahm laughed, gently pushing the meat away with a hoof.

He expected a laugh, maybe some teasing.

He did not expect a pause, and then sharp claws to suddenly come swinging at his face.

“Whoa! What the hay?” Grahm shouted, the pony curse sliding easily off his tongue as he skittered back to get out of her slashing range. Her fellow griffons grabbed her as well, holding her back. “Gilda, what is your damage?”

“That’s not Dash! That’s not Dash!” Gilda shrieked.

Grahm froze.

The other griffons didn’t let her go, but they did relax their grips a bit. Their expressions slowly turned accusatory, and Grahm took the tiniest step back.

“The real Rainbow Dash ate meat at flight camp! She took some off my plate! And you know what else? She liked it!”

Grahm paused. This mare sounded like she’d be down for some crazy things. Perhaps he should get to know Rainbow Dash better.

But first, he had more pressing matters to focus on. Namely, his survival.

Grahm had a couple options here. First, he could try and convince them he was joking. Maybe he’d lost the taste for meat, or didn't want to in front of everyone else. He could also try and convince them that Gilda was crazy. There was also the soap opera route, proclaiming himself an evil twin.

He chose a fourth and safest option—getting his chitinous hide out of there a bit earlier than planned. He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said, and reverted back into changeling form before turning and flying away as fast as he could.

Problem was, changeling wings are designed more for hovering and precise movements than speed, which the quickly pursuing griffons (whose wings were designed for hunting) had.

Luckily for Grahm, he wasn’t stuck with changeling wings.

As his attackers drew closer, he burst into flames and shifted again into a copy of Gilda, and used her much larger wings to give himself a bit of room. Then, he shifted again, making his griffon body thinner and his wings larger, giving him an abnormally long and thin body with a great speed and distance advantage. A body like that with wings that large could never have taken off, but since he was already in flight, he had… well… quite the advantage.

Amid furious screams of frustration, Grahm safely made his escape.

* * *

Back at the hive, Grahm made his report, ending with, “and they should be on their way soon.”

“Good,” Twilight said, looking on her map. She raised a piece of chalk in her green magic and marked an x. “That places that squad here, and if they report to the main group and continue here, following your route, sandstorm squadron Delta should be right in their path.” She cracked a small smile and glanced over. “Thank you, Grahm.”

He bowed. “I live to serve my queen.”

Twilight pursed her lips. She felt that was a bit overkill, but still, she was getting that a lot recently. Changelings must really love having an actual queen. “Just out of curiosity, which Wonderbolt did you choose?”

“Rainbow Dash, my queen.”

“Rainbow Dash?” Twilight asked incredulously. “Out of all the Wonderbolts you could have chosen from, you chose Rainbow Dash?”

“Yes!” Grahm said proudly. He paused. “Was that wrong, my queen?”

“No, not really,” Twilight said softly, “but it's good that you left when you did. Rainbow Dash didn't show up for practice last night. When they report to the main group, they'll probably find Rainbow there. Captured,” she added quietly.

Grahm nodded. “And will we rescue them, soon?”

“Not yet,” Twilight said carefully. “The decision to foalnap my friends came from the top; from Grinda herself.” Her eyes narrowed. “And this is all going to end with her, as well.”

* * *

Standing guard knowing that the changelings were close was a bit of a harrowing experience for Grant. He held his weapon in claw, jumping at every little movement. It certainly didn't help that he couldn't see very well at night.

And then someone approached. Grant hefted his spear, but lowered it slightly as he recognized who was there. “Gilda?”

“‘Sup?”

“Thought you were going to bed,” Grant said suspiciously.

“I did,” she said, not slowing down, “but then I had to pee.”

“I didn’t see you leave camp,” he said suspiciously, pressing the flat of his spear against her chest.

Finally, she stopped and rolled her eyes. “You were looking away, idiot,” she said, pushing his spear away derisively, “and I didn’t feel like giving you a heart attack. Next time I have to take a leak, maybe I won’t leave camp, and just do it on your bedroll. That sound better to you, dirt brain?”

“Fuzz off,” he grumbled, but made no further motion to stop her.

She continued on, and ducked into a nearby tent.

Where Gilda was laying on her bedroll, scowling at nothing in particular. She looked up at this intruder, and opened her beak to scream… only to get a face full of green slime, sealing her beak shut. She reached up to tear it off, and another two blasts of slime tied her claws to the ground.

“Sorry about that,” Grahm whispered, “but I can't have you screaming. I don't think I can get away from you guys a second time.” He gave her a little smile.

Gilda’s death glare let him know that she did not appreciate this compliment in the slightest.

Grahm cleared his throat. That was ok. It had been a lie, anyway. “I came back to say I'm sorry about that whole thing earlier.”

Gilda obviously snarled under the slime.

“No, I really am sorry. I could feel how strongly you felt about Rainbow Dash. And… I mean, I’m not you; but if I were, I’d definitely go look her up.”

Gilda rolled her eyes.

“Don't give me that,” Grahm said, crossing his arms. “I sense emotions, remember? You were so relieved and so happy to see your old friend again. Ponies may not be very perceptive, but there's no way that Rainbow Dash won't notice that.”

Gilda looked down. A slight crack appeared in her façade.

“Talk to her. Trust me. For both of your sakes.”

There was a brief pause. And then...

“She really ate meat, though?” Grahm asked, morbidly curious. “Like, she, a plant-eating pony, ate animal flesh?”

For the first time in this entire conversation, a positive (if a smirk could be considered positive) expression flashed across the bound griffoness’s face. Gilda nodded.

Grahm expelled air out his nose. “I gotta meet this mare,” he murmured as he turned to leave. He looked back one last time, and gestured at the slime. “If I undo that, will you attack me?”

Gilda nodded once again.

Grahm shrugged. “Welp, I'm willing to take that chance.” He reverted to his changeling form, darted forward, ripped the slime off with his fangs, and darted out of the tent.

Gilda was as good as her word. “Changeling!” she screeched, tearing the remnants of the slime off her face. She reached for her weapons and stumbled out after him. “Changeling!” she repeated.

Grahm paused hovering in mid-air long enough to let himself be seen, stuck his long tongue out in a taunting gesture, and flew off.

The griffons followed, shouting angrily… and sleepily.

Perfect.

Griffins may have evolved from hunters, but they were daytime hunters. Nighttime hunting was not their forte. Tracking a creature with black chitin? They were quite literally flying blind.

There was a green flash of fire off in the distance, and the griffons looked up into the sky and squinted; but try as they might, the changeling was nowhere to be seen.

Grant slammed his weapon against a nearby rock, cursing angrily. But no matter how many bad words he said, the changeling was not coming back. Eventually, all the griffons returned to their camp.

There was silence.

Then the rock shifted ever so slightly, and then Grahm reverted back to his changeling form. He chuckled and took off, heading back towards the hive.

Dang, it felt good to be a changeling.

Author's Note

It's funny how just one story can affect your headcanon, even after so many years.

Stinger

In the weight room, Rainbow Dash finished her stretches and slid on her weighted vest in preparation for some more training exercises. She groaned in that strange combination of pleasure and pain. It was good to be back.

As she finished her reps, one of the assistants poked his head in. “Rainbow, there's a griffon here to see you.”

Rainbow paused. A griffon? Here? After what had happened? Intrigued (if a bit suspicious), she racked her weights and shrugged off the vest, and headed out the door.

She slowed to a stop. There was only one griffon there, and she was very familiar. “Gilda.” There was no malice in Rainbow’s voice; it was more a surprised observation.

“Rainbow Dash.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither saying anything, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Finally, Gilda broke the standoff. She held out a small paper takeaway box, and Rainbow took it.

Rainbow opened it and laughed as she recognized the offering. “Chicken,” she said. She leaned down and sniffed, confirming her suspicion. A twisted smile crossed her face. “With lemon and pepper. Just like at flight camp.”

“Yeah.”

Rainbow picked the leg up and brought it to her mouth. She raised an eyebrow as she realized Gilda was still staring. “What?” Rainbow asked, a little smile playing at the edge of her lips. “You like watching things like this? Ponies eating meat?”

Gilda flinched. “No! I…”

Rainbow laughed. “You're a freak, Gilda,” she said as she took a bite.

“Says the pony chomping on chicken,” Gilda retorted, but a faint smile played at the edges of her beak.

Rainbow's flat, herbivore teeth couldn't quite get inside the crevices to tear the meat out; but her dexterous tongue worked its way in and pulled out most of it. She had gotten nearly all the meat off before she gave up and dropped the bone back into the box. “But you didn’t come this far for just a freak show. What’s up, G? For real, this time.”

Gilda glanced around, unsure what to say.

Thankfully, Rainbow always had an answer. “Hey, there’s a little place I know that serves really great desserts, and I’m really craving a milkshake after that. Wanna race there?”

Gilda smiled, her first real smile in a long time. “You’re on, dweeb.”