In The Rough

by BlackRoseRaven

Rating: teen
Tags: Spike, Adventure, Violence, Twilight Sparkle, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Changelings
Length: 54124

A camping trip goes wrong when the CMC are kidnapped. Spike is determined to help his friend Marina save them, but his desire to play hero only leads to more trouble, and very real danger.

Commission for Ankaru.

Spike has long been Twilight Sparkle's Number One Assistant, and a helpful hand to all ponies in Ponyville. But he longs to be something more, to feel like an equal, something more than, for example, the babysitter's helper when no one else is available.
But when a camping trip with Marina the Changeling, her partner Moonbeam, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders goes wrong and the CMC are kidnapped by a group of vengeful Diamond Dogs, Spike is given the chance to show what he's truly capable of as he seeks to follow Marina in pursuit of the kidnappers, determined to help her save the young ponies. As his mettle is tested, however, he might discover he is not as strong or as capable as once thought he was, and that his actions may have terrible consequences for the ponies he only ever intended to help.

Published 2018-03-27 19:30:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-04-05 23:53:44 UTC

Her Number One Assistant

Chapter One: Her Number One Assistant
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike listlessly swept his way down the hallway, humming a little to himself, eyes half-closed with boredom as he let his body work on autopilot. It was that draggy middle of the week time, the time when everything seemed to last twice as long as it should have, when all the chores that at least kept his mind busy were done, and instead he was just performing the same monotonous task, over and over and over again, like a broken clock.

Sweep the halls. Sweep the rooms. Sweep the floors. Sweep the walls. Yes, even the walls, and even the ceiling, because everything got terribly dusty because there was so much space in this great crystal castle, and yet so few rooms were actually in use.

When was Twilight going to finally get guards, or servants, or at least a butler? Sure, she wanted to live like a normal pony, but even a Number One Assistant like he was couldn't hold down the fort forever by himself.

Especially when that fort was literally a fort. Well, a castle. There was apparently a difference, Twilight said, but all he knew was that they were both big places where royalty lived. Usually with other people.

They were lacking the other people part still, though. How did Twilight not get lonely in this big, empty place?

As if to answer the question, Spike's earfins twitched as he stepped into the next corridor. Was that a voice he heard in the distance? Did Twilight want something?

He half-ran down the corridor: it was hard to get himself to go any faster than that, because he wasn't as anxious as he had used to be to please, not when he already had so much other work to get done.

Being a Number One Assistant was something he was proud of, sure. But it seemed like the more he grew up, and the older that title got, the more he had to do to remain Twilight's 'Number One Assistant' and the less rewarding it felt, and the less rewarded he was.

Was that just part of growing up? This was all he had ever wanted to be, after all.

This was all he knew how to be.

Spike shook off his thoughts as he hurried down the corridor, then skidded to a stop when he heard another voice. He blinked and rose his head slightly, then grimaced a bit as an unfair thought whispered through his mind: Maybe that's why she's never lonely, Spikey-Wikey, and you are.

“I have friends too.” Spike defended under his breath; defended against himself, he realized after a moment, which made him wrinkle up his snout before he shook his head quickly and carefully pushed the door open a crack.

In the next room, he could see Twilight had her friends gathered around a table. She had a big smile on her face and her eyes were sparkling in that way they always did when she was happy and focused on something: from the much-milder interest of her friends, Spike guessed that she was going over some kind of agenda with them.

It was funny: it wasn't that Twilight was really much of a control freak, even if she seemed like it. She just liked being organized... perhaps a little too much.

“-for the next week. It's short notice, I know, but it's a request from Princess Celestia herself, so it must be important.” Twilight was explaining, and Spike cocked his head curiously. Was she planning on taking a trip?

He hesitated for only a moment before he gingerly pushed the door open, sweeping his way into the room and beginning to clean around the perimeter. Twilight and her friends barely gave him a glance: he supposed that was the one advantage of being a background character even in his own home.

“Hey, you know I'm always up for anything.” Rainbow boasted, and then she looked up in confusion when Rarity cleared her throat loudly and Applejack gave her a flat look. “What? Don't tell me you guys are wussing out. Rarity I can believe but-”

“Did you already forget we promised we'd take the girls on another camping trip?” asked Rarity, and when Rainbow only looked at her blankly, the unicorn huffed and tossed her gorgeous purple mane. “Rainbow, honestly. I think you'd lose your wings if they weren't attached to your body.”

“Hey, I would not!” Rainbow huffed, crossing her forelegs before she shrugged and added: “And I totally didn't forget, by the way, I just agree that this must be like, important, and stuff.”

“It's pretty bad timing.” Applejack put in, looking over at Twilight with a slight frown. “Are you sure this is for something important, not just some get-together in Canterlot? I mean, normally I wouldn't make such a big deal out of a little trip away, but-”

“You gotta do what you promise.” Pinkie agreed with a bright smile, almost jumping onto the table as she exclaimed: “But I don't want to miss what's going on in Canterlot, either! So we should definitely do both, we can throw a big camping sleepover party for everyone in Canterlot!”

“Uh. I don't think that's going to work, Pinkie.” Twilight said delicately, and then she shook her head and continued: “Whatever Princess Celestia wants us for, I know it has to be something urgent. She wouldn't ask us to come meet with her if it wasn't something important.”

The others traded looks, and Twilight gave a small smile as she looked around at them all, Spike inconspicuously sweeping his way carefully along the wall behind her as he listened intently. “I know this is asking a lot from all of you. But I know that Princess Celestia wouldn't ask for us to go there on such short notice unless it was really important.”

Twilight hesitated, then lowered her voice and added: “The letter was sent directly to me, too, not through Spike. That always means it's something really important.”

Spike scowled a bit despite himself at this, even though he knew it was both true and understood the reasoning behind it: almost everyone knew that the Princess communicated through letters sent by his dragonfire, and there were plenty of ways for inventive unicorns to intercept those kinds of communications if they really wanted to.

“I get it, Twilight. I know it's important.” Applejack said, although she sounded less than impressed and almost exasperated. “I just... got other things to deal with too, you know?”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of everything, I promise.” Twilight said with a smile, straightening in her seat. “Why don't you have the girls stay here in the castle? It can be an... indoor camping trip, and Spike can keep an eye on them!”

Applejack looked flatly at Twilight, and Rainbow looked meditative for a moment before she pronounced: “That's lame.”

Twilight blinked, and Fluttershy half-rose a hoof as she started quietly: “Well, I could always-”

“That's not lame!” Twilight unwittingly steamrollered, glowering at Rainbow. “Well, what do you suggest?”

“We should just let 'em go on their own!” Rainbow said airily, waving a hoof. “I'm sure they can handle a night or two of camping by themselves.”

Applejack and Rarity both glowered at Rainbow, who huffed and looked back at them before Rarity snapped: “And what if something happens? They're still young fillies!”

“It'd be one thing if they were campin' out in the field or something, but considering the aptitude those three got for gettin' into trouble and the fact we're supposed to be going outside of Ponyville, I'd much prefer someone with them.” Applejack added with a grunt. “And we already got all our stuff packed and ready, and when Apple Bloom gets it in her head that she's gonna do somethin'...”

“Just like Sweetie.” Rarity smiled slightly, and then she hesitated before suggesting: “What about Marina? Apple Bloom certainly seems to be fond of her, and her schedule isn't quite as hectic as most ponies' are...”

“I dunno.” Applejack shrugged a bit, biting her lip. “It's a lot of responsibility to be looking out for three little fillies. And it would be kind of last minute... she might not-”

“Well, we can ask at least, yeah?” Rainbow shrugged, then she grinned and teased: “Or what, are you scared of the big bad Changeling? She's totally a cream puff.”

“I know Marina better than you do, so shut it.” Applejack grumbled, and Rainbow held up her hooves in mock surrender. The earth pony glowered at her for a moment longer, then sighed as Rarity nudged her and looked at her pointedly, finally nodding with a sigh. “Alright. I'll ask her once we're done here.”

“And I can send Spike along, too! He can help out.” Twilight said, and Spike visibly flinched from where he was dusting along the wall in the background. But Twilight didn't so much as glance at him, and nor did anypony else. “Actually, that's right, I should probably call him and have him start packing up my things. We're going to have to catch the train by late afternoon if we want to make it to Canterlot this evening. Spike!”

Spike sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, doing his best to swallow his resentment as he approached and asked: “Yes, Twilight?”

Twilight blinked in surprise, then turned with a smile to him: a warm, bright smile, he thought. Somehow, that always made it more frustrating to him, because it was like Twilight never realized... “Spike! There you are, I was wondering where you were. Could you please go get a suitcase together for me? I have to go to Canterlot with my friends. And afterwards, we need you to look after Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. They're going on a camping trip and need a chaperon.”

“Uh huh.” Spike said, and when Twilight frowned a little, he cleared his throat before forcing a much brighter tone to correct: “I mean, yeah, sounds exciting, Twilight!”

“Great! I'm sure you'll have lots of fun!” Twilight said, brightening immediately, and Spike smiled in spite of himself. She was so smart, so good with numbers and magic and theories, but when it came to dealing with people, well... she still needs a few friendship lessons, I guess.

“Yeah. I'm sure we will.” Spike echoed, before he turned and trundled away from the table, and, as usual, felt the eyes of all the ponies leave him the moment he started to leave, as if he completely ceased to exist once Twilight was done with him.

That was what it felt like, at least. He was here to help, to be Mr. Number One Assistant, and otherwise, he ceased to exist. He knew that wasn't fair: Twilight worried about him, cared about his welfare, did her best to take care of him, but he didn't think she always realized that sometimes even a dragon needed a bit of time to himself.

He sighed as he headed up to Twilight's room, clutching the broom against his chest as he scowled a little. Do this, do that, and don't worry, when you're done your chores we'll come up with more for you. It made him want to shout and stomp his feet. But he'd already learned that wasn't going to help the situation: he always got caught when he did something, and it always made things a thousand times worse.

It was like he had no real control over his life, no matter what he tried to do. Maybe that's why he was Twilight's Number One Assistant: because he couldn't be himself, only someone else's tool.

Spike sulked as he pushed his way into Twilight's room. He headed over to her closet first to drag out her suitcase, and then he sighed as he started to pack it. She would complain later that he hadn't included the Atlas of Equestria Volume XVII or five of whatever ten other books she was currently reading, but he knew that was why he packed, and she didn't: Twilight only ever filled her bags with books and forgot all the necessities.

Spike smiled a bit in spite of himself, then he shook his head quickly, grumbling again as he smacked the side of his head a few times. But that was the crux of it, wasn't it? He really did honestly care about Twilight and want to help her and be her Number One Assistant, but at the same time, he felt like he was being stifled, like... he wanted to grow up, but no one wanted to let him.

Spike didn't think he wanted to be an assistant forever. He thought that someday he wanted to be his own Number One, whatever that entailed. But it was painfully hard to get Twilight and her friends to see that: he guessed that since he still looked like a baby dragon, that's all they saw him as. That would maybe be all they ever saw him as.

He sighed a little as he finished packing Twilight's suitcase with essentials, then grumbled as he began to lug it down the stairs, cradling his broom in one front limb. He puffed his way down to the front hall, pausing only long enough to throw the broom in a random closet on the way.

He was somehow unsurprised to see Twilight was already waiting for him, tapping a hoof impatiently. He did his best not to scowl as he dragged the suitcase closer: it would be a thousand times easier for her to just pick the thing up with her magic, after all. At least if any of his expression slipped through, it was mistaken for exertion, as Twilight looked him quickly over before asking: “Did you pack everything? What about-”

“Clothes, toothbrush, all the essentials, Twi. I'm sure you won't be gone for that long. And you know, if you need me to stay here and hold down the fort, I don't mind...” Spike wheedled, looking pointedly at Twilight.

And Twilight, as always, missed exactly what he was trying to say as she smiled and patted him on the head, answering cheerfully: “Oh, don't you worry about a thing, Spike! I'm sure the Crusaders will be more than happy to have you along!”

“Great.” Spike said with a marked lack of enthusiasm, and then he sighed a little before he asked in spite of himself: “How long do you think you'll be away?”

“Oh, don't worry Spike, there will be other ponies to check up on you, and Owlowiscious is here, too, he can keep you company and keep an eye on things.” Twilight said kindly, and Spike wondered morbidly if she understood how humiliating and insulting it was that she had just inferred her pet owl was more responsible and mature than he was. “Oh, right, that reminds me! I need you to go and find Octavia now and ask her where Marina is so you can ask her to look after the Crusaders. Try and hurry, okay? The girls and I have a few things to do, too, and I'd like to make sure you have everything before we go.”

Spike nodded and rubbed at his head, half-wanting to argue... but with Twilight's mix of authority and maternalness, it was hard to do anything but lower his head a little and mumble an 'okay' before he headed to the doors leading out into Ponyville.

He winced when he almost bumped into Applejack, who blinked and then tilted her head towards him, asking: “Where are you goin', Spike?”

“I'm supposed to find Marina. Well, Twilight told me to talk to Octavia to find Marina.” Spike answered, and Applejack frowned a bit at him.

“Darn it, I said I could do that myself.” grumbled the mare, and then she looked at Spike for a moment before nodding once and saying finally: “But alright. You go talk to Octavia and I'll go tell Apple Bloom about the change in plans. She probably won't be too happy about it, so... you know, try and be understanding if she's a little grouchy and all.”

Spike nodded and rubbed at the back of his head, and he lingered for a moment. Applejack cocked her head curiously, but then the dragon only smiled awkwardly before he shook his head and turned, hurrying in the direction of Octavia and Vinyl's home.

He knocked at the door, then lingered, wondering what he was even supposed to say: but when it opened a moment later and he found a gray mare looking curiously down at him, he simply blurted: “Hi! Uh, is Marina here?”

“Marina? Does Twilight want to speak to her again?” Octavia frowned, and Spike smiled lamely and shook his head.

“No, uh... Twilight actually wanted to see if Marina could look after Apple Bloom and her friends for Applejack because Twilight is taking them all to Canterlot.” Spike awkwardly explained.

Octavia frowned deeper, cocking her head slightly, and then she sighed before saying finally: “I can't speak for Marina, but this seems like it's rather short notice. She also regularly visits her friend Moonbeam around this time every week, but she should be coming back home shortly if you'd still like to ask her.”

“I'm sorry. I really should though. I kind of have to.” Spike said lamely, and Octavia smiled at him with the faintest hint of sympathy, he thought.

“Alright. Please come in, I'll find out when Marina will be home.” Octavia said, and Spike nodded awkwardly as he stepped into the house, the door swinging closed behind him.

Octavia headed down the hall, and Spike lingered awkwardly in the entrance hall, looking back and forth for a few moments before he looked up curiously as he heard Octavia's muffled voice. He took a few steps forwards, frowning slightly: he didn't hear any response, but Octavia spoke again like she was talking to someone...

“Hey, Spike!” greeted Vinyl Scratch, and Spike nearly jumped out of his scales, spinning towards her with a wince, which made the unicorn grin and toss her neon blue mane, laughing before she smiled at him when he glowered at her. “Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to startle you. What are you doing here?”

Spike shrugged after a moment, looking grouchily back at Vinyl Scratch before he said almost grudgingly: “Looking for Marina.” He paused, throwing off his sulkiness as he added: “I thought I heard Octavia talking to someone...”

“Oh, yeah, she's probably talking to Marina, telling her to swing by here. What are you looking for Marina for, anyway? Twilight?” asked Vinyl curiously.

Spike simply nodded, tired by now of answering the same question over and over again, and Vinyl shrugged before she said mildly: “Don't envy you, kiddo. Must be hard being the assistant to the princess, huh? I remember when I used to work as a gofer for a production company back in Canterlot, it sucked a lot. Makes me glad that I was able to strike out on my own, even if it's a hell of a lot of work.”

Spike stayed silent, only smiling awkwardly, and Vinyl peered at him for a few moments before she shrugged amiably and asked: “Have you ever met Marina? I bet you have. You've probably met everyone in town at some point, but like, have you ever, you know, met Marina?”

The dragon resisted the urge to sigh, instead nodding: he understood well enough what the unicorn meant, after all. “We've talked a little, yeah. Not much, but she seemed nice.”

Spike smiled briefly: Marina had treated him like an equal. He had liked that: even when the ponies didn't mean to talk down to him, they usually did, after all. He guessed it was because he was smaller than them, because he was just Twilight's assistant, because he was a 'baby' dragon. But maybe because Marina was... well, different, too, she had never treated him the way the other ponies had.

“Good. She's great.” Vinyl nodded with a wink. “So make sure you put in a good word with the princess about her, huh?”

“I will.” Spike promised, even if he didn't think his word would mean much. Then he paused and frowned before asking: “Hey, wait, how is Octavia talking to Marina?”

“Trade secret.” Vinyl said, and she managed to keep her mouth shut for all of two seconds before almost blurting out: “Through her computer!”

Spike stared at Vinyl: what was a computer? Vinyl seemed to register his confusion and clearly attempted to keep her mouth shut, but after a few more seconds, she rambled out: “Well, it's sort of like a magical device that can show you stuff and connect to all of Marina's prosthetic implants so we can talk to her or see what she's up to or stuff. Although we don't usually do that, we usually just like-”

“That's enough, Vinyl.” Octavia said mildly, and Vinyl and Spike both looked up guiltily as the earth pony approached. She turned an eye to Spike, studying him for a moment before explaining much more simply: “Think of it like a telephone. That's a quick and rough explanation for it, anyway. I have one end, and Marina has the other. That's all.”

“Oh.” Spike said, and there was silence for a moment before he hesitantly asked: “Is she...”

“Marina will be here in a few minutes. Please.” Octavia gestured at Spike to follow, and the dragon smiled lamely before falling in step behind her, Vinyl wandering along behind them.

They headed into the kitchen, where Octavia guided Spike to a seat before she asked: “Would you like anything? I was about to put on tea.”

“Uh, sure.” Spike began to get up – it was so natural for him to be the one doing the work! – before he winced when Octavia reached back without looking and gently but firmly sat him back down.

“Please.” she said: somehow it was both a request and a reassurance, and Spike smiled awkwardly at her back as Octavia went about preparing the tea, while Vinyl simply threw herself down in a seat on the other side of the table.

“Just excuse Tavi, she's kind of a control freak.” Vinyl said airily, waving a hoof absently before she winked over at the dragon. “How much of a chance do you ever get to relax, anyway? So relax, kiddo!”

Spike shrugged lamely, his eyes wandering around the kitchen: he actually didn't recognize some of the appliances that they had, which was rare for him, considering he was the one who did all the cooking in Twilight's castle and was responsible for maintaining all the appliances. “Hey, that coffeemaker looks uh...”

“Yes, I made a few adjustments myself.” Octavia glanced over at the coffeemaker with a brief smile. “Vinyl is very fond of her coffee and I'm not very fond of the mess she usually leaves behind.”

“So you uh... you're an electrician.” Spike said awkwardly, knowing that was the wrong word, and yet the right word was something right out of a comic book, and he'd feel even sillier calling her a 'roboticist.'

Octavia gave him an amused look, then rolled her eyes when Vinyl said cheerfully: “Tavi's got a hell of a brain, that's all I know. But hey, it's not the worst thing in the world. Helps keep me out of trouble and it helped Marina... and hey, did you hear that she's-”

“We're not talking about that in public yet, Vinyl. Luciferin projects are confidential until Princess Celestia decrees they can be released to the public.” Octavia said firmly, as she turned around and put two cups of tea down on the table: one for herself, and one for Spike. He blinked in surprise as Vinyl only shrugged and put her hooves behind her head, leaning back in her chair, but then smiling when they all heard the click of the coffeemaker, and the distinct scent of the dark liquid reached their nostrils.

Spike picked up his teacup and swirled it a bit as he looked down at it: it smelled right, it looked right... a hesitant taste, and it tasted right, too. How had Octavia made such a perfect cup of tea so quickly?

He looked at her, but Octavia only smiled at him: they were spared trying to force any conversation by the sound of the door opening, however, followed by a clomping of metal hooves as Marina stumbled in and blushed as she half-fell into the kitchen, saying lamely: “I'm home.”

“Hello, Marina.” Octavia greeted politely, as Marina straightened a little and hurriedly brushed herself out. She looked like a chocolate-colored unicorn, with a currently-frazzled blonde mane and bright green eyes, but Spike knew in reality Marina was a Changeling... and she was a Changeling with four prosthetic metal legs, at that, her original limbs having long been lost even before she came to Ponyville.

Spike awkwardly stood and waved at Marina, which just made him feel stupid because when he stood, he was barely head-level with the table they were sitting around, so he had to stand on his toeclaws just to see her, clearing his throat as Marina turned a lame smile towards him. “Uh, hello.”

“Hi.” Marina said, and then she cleared her throat before asking: “What uh... did the Princess need something from me, Spike?”

“Yes, uh. Well. Sort of.” Spike fumbled, and then he carefully slipped to the side so the table wasn't obstructing their view of each other, asking lamely: “Can you look after Apple Bloom and her friends on a camping trip?”

Marina stared as Octavia slowly tilted her head and Vinyl looked dumbly up, and Spike turned beet red, resisting the urge to hide his face as he explained as professionally as was possible: “Well, Twilight and her friends were called away on official business, but Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo need someone to look after them while they're gone. They were going on a camping trip tomorrow, and Twilight was hoping that you could look after them. I'll be there to... assist.”

Spike rubbed at his head, fighting the urge to mumble an apology, and Marina studied him for a few moments before she gave an awkward smile and asked hesitantly, her eyes automatically roving towards Octavia: “Do you think it would be okay if I brought Moonbeam along?”

Octavia pointedly gestured with her head towards Spike, and Spike blinked before he rubbed at his head, saying finally: “Uh... I don't think that should be a problem...”

“It's just that Moonbeam... could really use a friend, I think, so I spend time with her and uh... I think that it would be good for her to be out and do normal pony things. She's gotten much better, much stronger since... she was sick.” Marina said carefully, glossing over what that sickness had been: near-coma from being kept as a captive and food-source for the Changeling Hive. “It would be good for her.”

“I don't have any problem with it.” Spike shrugged, and then, in a rare burst of nerve, he added firmly: “Yeah, I don't have any problem with it, and I'll be there with you so... it'll be fine. That sounds good to me.”

Spike nodded to himself, and then he frowned before wincing a bit as he realized- “But I gotta go tell Twilight fast, then! Uh, thanks for the tea and I'll see you later, Marina! Thanks!”

Spike hurried past the mare, who stared after him before she winced and blurted out a little too late: “Wait! Where should I meet you? When?”

“From what I gathered, you don't have to do anything tonight. I'm sure we'll find out shortly: at worst, I'm sure Spike will fetch you tomorrow morning.” Octavia reassured, and Marina looked over at her with a smile, before she blushed when the mare added gently: “I'm glad you asked. You should do that more often, Marina.”

“I'm... trying to be a little more...” Marina didn't really have the word for it. Assertive? Open? No, it wasn't really either of those things, it was something... something that almost all Changelings lacked, that she was still struggling to learn. The ability to make decisions; the ability to think for herself and what she wanted, not just searching for the right answer. “I'm trying.”

“Hey, don't sweat it. Are you going to hurry out again now, or do you want to join us for tea time or whatever this is?” Vinyl asked, and Octavia rolled her eyes.

“Well... there's always time for tea, I think.” Marina said after a moment, giving a small smile as she reached up and brushed down her hair.

She joined Vinyl and Octavia at the table, and then looked up in surprise as Octavia asked almost suddenly: “And you're okay with this?”

“Yes? Why wouldn't I be?” Marina asked curiously, before she shook her head and added: “I think it'll be good for us both, really. It'll take some convincing, but... I like the fillies, and Moonbeam needs to get out a little more, too. And Spike is... it's not that I dislike ponies, you know that, but Spike is... he's understanding.”

“I suppose he would be. I don't think his life under Twilight's tutelage has been rough, but I'm certain it's been difficult, for lack of a better word.” Octavia sipped at her tea, studying Marina for a few moments before she said finally: “Remember that if anything happens, you can always contact me through your radio.”

Marina smiled curiously at Octavia, but Octavia only shook her head as she looked out the kitchen window, not saying anything even as Vinyl and Marina both studied her intently. But she didn't have the words to explain, anyway: it just felt like there was something in the air, like something was going to happen.

She just hoped that she was wrong.

The Problem With Ponies

Chapter Two: The Problem With Ponies
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike yawned and crawled out of the basket that served as his bed, scowling at the dark windows. Just once, just once, he'd really like to sleep in. But he had a feeling that day wasn't going to come for a long time yet: there were always so many things to do, and no matter how Twilight teased him about his naps and all the time he spent asleep... it's never enough. Someone has to keep everything running, get everything started in the morning, and that's always been me.

The little purple dragon sighed, grimacing as he stretched and cracked his back before he trudged towards the door, wiping sleep from his eyes as he went. He pushed through, then continued on his way, muttering to himself under his breath.

Six in the morning, he thought. And if not for the stupid trip with the stupid fillies, he could be sleeping in right now, but of course he had to be signed up for that. Spike couldn't be alone all by himself, wasn't that right? Perish the thought.

He was so bitter. So bitter, tired, and angry. But he knew what he had to do: wake himself up, put things out of his mind, and then do his job, just like always. Maybe he'd get lucky, and they'd come home before Twilight and her friends got back, and then he could have the castle to himself for a change of pace and just have a nice, quiet day where he didn't have to clean up any messes, didn't have to fetch or organize books, and maybe, just maybe, he could get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Spike sighed a little as he rubbed at his face, wondering not for the first time what it must be like out there for other dragons. He wasn't stupid enough to think that their life was easier or better than his, but... who didn't want a little adventure now and then? Who didn't want to go back to the way things were supposed to be, even if that meant they would be worse, not better?

There was just such a strange, natural allure in living the way you were supposed to, instead of the way that you had been raised. He was supposed to be a dragon, after all! And dragons were supposed to be allowed to sleep whenever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, never bow their heads to anyone...

No, he was just cranky. He knew that wasn't really what he felt, or what he wanted. He liked it here. He liked Ponyville. He liked his job, even: he just got frustrated sometimes. And when he got frustrated, he thought that the worst parts of him came out.

The dragon shook himself out a bit as he wandered into the kitchen to get something to drink and eat, and put together the extra food for the camping trip, because he was somehow sure that the girls weren't going to pack enough to eat, let alone the proper supplies and equipment.

But that was his real duty, he supposed. How was it that another assistant he'd met had phrased it, years ago? An assistant's job was to make their master look smart. Otherwise, they stayed in the background, and did what they were told, and kept everything running behind the scenes.

It was little comfort to him, though. And he didn't want to be any kind of puppetmaster, anyway: he certainly couldn't think of Twilight as a puppet, after all, or that he really had any say in how she lived her life or ruled her tiny kingdom.

Spike smiled briefly: Twilight, rule something. She wasn't much of a ruler. A leader, but never a ruler. He kind of admired that, though: he often heard ponies muttering about how power corrupted, but it seemed to him like Twilight was safe from all that.

The little dragon let his thoughts spin out as he went about the morning's tasks: he filled a cooler and a dry bag with food, which he brought to the front of the castle: a trek that always seemed longer than it had to be, like the castle somehow stretched itself a few more feet to try and make his walks take up that much more time.

He liked living here, but at the same time, he didn't really, did he? Did that make sense? He thought it did, even though it didn't, but...

Bah. Everything was complicated and he was still waking up, that was all. He shouldn't let his thoughts run away with him like that. He just needed to focus on there here and now and get things done.

Spike grunted as he shrugged down the containers of food: why did ponies think it was easier for him to carry things when they were literally four times his size.

He turned to head back down the hallway, then grimaced as he heard a knock at the door, sighing and looking over his shoulder before the knock came again. He spun around on his heel and trundled back to the door to open it,then winced when a hoof nearly hit him in the face, Sweetie Belle yelping as she nearly fell on top of him before she caught herself and blushed. “Hi!”

“Uh. Hey.” Spike said after a moment, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly before he looked past Sweetie: Scootaloo was here, too, but... “Uh... what are you doing here? It's a little early to-”

“We thought we'd come by and help!” Sweetie said brightly, and Spike gave an awkward smile: the one thing worse than having to do everything by himself was dealing with 'help' from three certain fillies. They were even worse now that they were almost teenagers: there was more clumsiness, more hormonal behavior, more trouble in general.

“Where's Apple Bloom?” Spiked asked, in the hopes of delaying the inevitable.

Sweetie Belle straightened, explaining: “Oh, we haven't gone to get her yet, it's too early! But we figured you'd be awake and need some help, Spike, so we decided to come by here and... uh... help!”

“Yep.” Scootaloo yawned loudly, stretching absently before she asked: “Do you have any coffee going or anything? It was a long night.”

“It's always a long night for you.” Sweetie chastened. “Bedtimes aren't just for little foals, you know. And it's important that-”

Scootaloo waved a hoof airily, and Sweetie scowled deeper before Spike gestured awkwardly, interrupting the spat with: “Coffee should be in the kitchen. If you really want to help, well... uh, where's the camping equipment?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged, then answered offhoofedly: “Oh, you know, Apple Bloom's gonna take care of that. She just told us to take care of ourselves and the food.”

Spike didn't like the sound of that, but before he could say anything, Scootaloo trundled past and Sweetie began poking her head though the bags, asking curiously: “Where are the marshmallows? And the hot chocolate! Hey, we don't need more camping gear, we need camp food!”

“Uh, I think we should probably-” Spike started, and then he winced when Sweetie opened a bag and began to rummage through it, pulling his carefully-packed gear loose. “Hey! That's my stuff!”

“Oh, Spike, you don't need to bring anything! We got it all covered!” Sweetie said proudly, before she dropped the bag and added: “Except for the food.”

Spike dropped his face in a hand with a tired sigh, and then he grimaced when Sweetie knocked over the rucksack at her hooves, the little dragon wincing a bit and reaching out, then squawking when Sweetie leapt forwards and banged into him, knocking him flat... although in her exuberance, she barely noticed, leaning over him with a bright smile as she declared: “But don't you worry, we can help get all the food together! Here, let's go through your bags right now and-”

Spike was saved – he hoped – by a knock at the door, the little dragon sighing as Sweetie cocked her head before prancing around in a circle and opening it with a flick of her horn to reveal Applejack, the mare blinking in surprise before she asked: “Well, howdy, Sweetie, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Applejack! We're just getting ready!” Sweetie said brightly, as Spike clambered up to his feet.

Applejack frowned at this, looking over the mess that Sweetie had made before she said in that not-quite-scolding tone it seemed ponies always reserved for him: “Spike, I know it was short notice and all, but I wish you'd gotten things together yesterday. You're just lucky I decided to come over early. Here, I'll help pack up.”

“Yes, Applejack.” Spike didn't bother to argue: he knew it would just come out like excuses or like he was trying to blame Sweetie, who was oblivious to the whole conversation as she hopped cheerfully in place.

“I'll help too! Spike, can you go help Scootaloo get the food out of the kitchen?” Sweetie asked, and Spike smiled awkwardly before he turned and hurried away, deciding it was probably better not to stick around or try and reason with any of these insane ponies.

He sighed as he made his way to the kitchen, then stared in disbelief as he pushed inside and found Scootaloo drinking the last of his coffee, the carafe on the counter empty apart from the gritty dregs of sadness at the bottom.

Scootaloo put down her cup with a sigh of contentment as she blinked a few times, then she smiled over at the dragon, giving a little burp before she grinned a bit. “Sorry about that.”

“You drank all of it?” Spike asked disbelievingly, and Scootaloo shrugged lamely as she looked at the carafe.

“Not all of it.” she answered, and Spike slowly narrowed his eyes at this technicality before Scootaloo asked: “Did I hear Applejack?”

Spike sighed, then he nodded after a moment and said reluctantly: “Yes. Sweetie wants us to get... camp food, she said, but I don't know how much-”

“Oh, I thought Apple Bloom said she was taking care of that.” Scootaloo shrugged, then she looked around before she walked over to one of the cupboards, opening it and carelessly starting to rummage through it. One of Spike's eyes twitched at this violation of one of the few places in the castle that was truly his personal space, but he forced himself to breathe even as Scootaloo asked: “So where do you keep like, the candy and stuff?”

“We don't.” Spike answered testily, before he sighed and added reluctantly: “We have some small marshmallows and hot chocolate, but let me get it-”

“I can do it, no worries.” Scootaloo answered with a shrug as she closed the cupboard, shifting to the one beside it. She opened it, then stared for a moment, and Spike sighed as he walked to the other side of the kitchen as Scootaloo gave an awkward grin and hurried over to him.

She started to reach into the cupboard, but Spike winced and grabbed her foreleg, gently pushing her back as he said: “Just wait a second, okay? Let me go get a bag. Should I pack the rest of my juice boxes, too?”

“Beer!” Scootaloo blurted, giving a hopeful grin, and Spike only looked at her until she shrank her head slightly and mumbled: “Juice boxes are fine.”

Spike nodded as he headed in the direction of the fridge, stopping only once along the way to grab one of the grocery bags from another cupboard, before he glanced up as Scootaloo added: “You didn't have to get stuff for us, though, we're not, you know, little kids anymore.”

“I didn't. Twilight buys them for me.” Spike answered as he opened the fridge, sweeping the juice boxes off the shelf into the bag, and then he let the door swing closed as he headed back to Scootaloo, who tossed the gathered hot chocolate and few bags of mini marshmallows they had into the bag before she picked it up.

“So uh... what's it like, living with Twilight and all? I mean like...” Scootaloo fumbled for words as she followed Spike back towards the entrance, and the dragon only gave her a half-glance, cocking an eyeridge slightly. “I just mean... you know. You're older than we are, aren't you?”

“Dragons age slower.” Spike answered, which wasn't really his answer at all, but Twilight's. He didn't really want to get into discussing it with Scootaloo right now, though: he figured he was going to reach his quota for embarrassing himself for the week within a day or two.

Spike winced as they arrived at the front hall and he found half of his things unpacked, Applejack humming a little as she adjusted the packs on her side. Spike stared for a moment, then he brightened a bit as something clicked in his mind and he realized- “Wait, does this mean you're-”

“Sorry, Spike, I still gotta go to Canterlot. I just told the girls I'd meet up with them a little later today so I could make sure everyone got away okay.” Applejack said, but that faint flicker of her eyes told Spike there was more to it than that.

Over the years with them, he had gotten pretty good at reading the ponies: that was another part of being an assistant, after all, needing to know what someone wanted before they were even aware of it themselves. Spike had the sense that whatever had Applejack nervous enough to take the early train to Canterlot instead of last night's late one had to do with more than just the fact the fillies were going camping with relative strangers.

Spike wasn't always smart, but when he focused he could be plenty sharp. He was tired and he was grumpy, but he was still able to force himself to focus a little as he looked at Applejack, studying her for a few moments: it had something to do with Apple Bloom, he thought. Possibly the fact that Apple Bloom was... different. Something the other ponies didn't really notice, but then again, he spent most of his time several heads lower than your average pony, so he noticed things the others didn't.

Applejack noticed him staring, so Spike did what he was expected to do, nodding and saying glumly: “Okay. I'll do my best to help out Marina and her friend.”

Applejack smiled and nodded, and the moment she looked away he knew he was out of her mind. It almost made him scowl, but he knew how things worked. He still looked like a child to them, and so they treated him like a child: when he didn't act like a child, then he was being rude or uppity or whatever other word they could apply to him.

Child? Or was he a slave?

No, that wasn't fair at all. Or at least not entirely.

He watched as Applejack rounded up Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, distributing the packs to them and leaving the rest for him: she didn't say anything, but Spike knew the job and knew the look. So he hurried over, grabbing the oversized packs and slinging them over his shoulders with a huff before he grimaced a bit as Applejack led the way out the door with the fillies in tow, Sweetie rambling away to Applejack and Scootaloo tossing in a word now and then, the little dragon forgotten.

That was okay, though. He was used to it, and it was easier to concentrate on his job. Sometimes he got mad about it, sure, but he'd learned to remember that he was just an assistant to them, and his entire job was staying in the background and cleaning up after the ponies.

He rubbed slowly at his face as they headed through the mostly-empty streets of too-early morning Ponyville: soon it would be bustling with life, but for now it was almost eerily quiet, as a faint morning mist rolled through the village streets, gray dawn softening the edges of the world.

It was such a pretty place. The ponies were safe, had everything they could ever want, and were watched over by a loving Princess, with the core of the kingdom – Queendom? Princessdom? Twilight would know the word... – itself only a short march away.

But ponies always wanted more. Spike couldn't really blame them: he always wanted more, too. He knew his life was good, even if it was a little stressful at times, and he didn't always feel all that... respected. It was safe here, though: he had a lot of good things. All of these ponies did: they were cared for, looked after, treated well.

So many of them still felt like there was something missing, though, and he understood that. Even Twilight had those moments where she didn't seem entirely satisfied, where she lingered and wandered from room-to-room, not noticing him as he tailed along behind her.

Everyone wanted to be special. To have some kind of adventure, to be known and loved and wanted. But once they got what they wanted, they weren't satisfied with it: that worried him sometimes. What if he did get what he wanted, and he still wasn't happy? He thought that was the biggest reason that he was... well, still here.

Sure, he was a little dragon, but it wasn't like he'd never thought about leaving. Starting a new life on his own: he'd miss everyone, but he was old enough to look after himself, and a lot of the childish things he did was mostly to satisfy Twilight.

He wanted to know what else was out there, though: he wanted to be out from under Twilight's wing, Twilight's shadow, Twilight's... hoof.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by an awkward half-yell, and he looked up to see Apple Bloom waving at them from the porch of the Apple Family farmstead, the little filly smiling brightly. Spike waved a little automatically, even though he knew he probably wasn't even being noticed at this point.

Applejack let Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo run by, and then she suddenly threw a foreleg out, stopping Spike as she asked bluntly without looking at him: “Do you know about my sister's... condition?”

“Uh...” Spike looked awkwardly up at Applejack for a few moments, and then he cleared his throat and nodded once. “I think so?”

“Just treat her nicely. That's all.” Applejack said sternly, and Spike couldn't help but give a wry smile before he gave another quick nod.

“Well, I guess I better head off then, so I can catch the train to Canterlot.” Applejack hesitated for a moment, and then she turned to Spike with a smile, saying: “Look. I know this probably ain't your idea of a fun time, and sometimes Twilight volunteers you without thinking about it. But if it means anything, it's reassuring to me to think that you'll be along on this trip. Marina's great and all, but I feel like she doesn't have a lot of experience with fillies, and... well, you seem to handle all of us pretty well.”

Spike smiled a little, but he felt genuinely touched as he nodded to her, not knowing what to say. Applejack only shrugged amiably, however, before she walked away without another word to him, heading towards the fillies to give Apple Bloom a last goodbye and a few last firm instructions that would likely all be forgotten and ignored by the time they got to the campsite.

Spike lingered until Applejack left, and then he wandered up to the trio of fillies. But they were rambling away in their own world, and the dragon knew he wasn't likely going to get a word in edgewise, so instead he walked past them and let himself into the house, figuring that...

He almost bumped into a blue mare, the unicorn scowling at him as she took a step backwards. He smiled lamely up at her, then cleared his throat and held out a claw, asking: “Moonbeam? I'm Spike, it's nice to meet you.”

Moonbeam tilted her head slightly, continuing to look at him, clearly unhappy about... probably everything. Spike didn't know much about her: just that she was grumpy and nervous and a little paranoid, and not for the first time, he wondered how Marina had managed to convince her to come along on this little trip.

“Hi.” Moonbeam said finally, as she nodded to him at least. He let his claw drop but smiled as best he could all the same: that was still something, wasn't it?

“So uh, ready to go?” Spike asked, and Moonbeam only scowled a little in response, giving an indecisive shrug. Spike ran with it as best he could, shrugging back and saying: “I try not to worry too much about it. The real trouble will just be getting to the campgrounds. After that, the girls will pretty much take care of themselves, we just need to be there for, you know, just-in-case reasons.”

Moonbeam didn't look thrilled with this, studying Spike moodily, but he got the feeling it was for another reason than that she wasn't looking forwards to foalsitting and camping. He cleared his throat a little, wondering if he should either probe more or just give up and go looking for Marina, but he was spared deciding by the sound of mechanical limbs approaching. “Spike?”

“Uh, hello there, Marina!” Spike greeted, leaning past Moonbeam to give a little wave. Then he winced when Moonbeam stepped past him, stumbling a little to the side, but he caught himself and forced himself not to look back, smiling awkwardly at Marina as she winced a little. “You uh, ready to go?”

“Yes. Sorry about that, Spike. She isn't really a... morning person.” Marina apologized, glancing past Spike before she smiled a little and added: “But she'll warm up once we get going, I think. Thank you for letting her tag along, it means a lot to me. To us both, really.”

“I'm sure it does.” Spike said, and there was an awkward moment of silence before he cleared his throat and asked: “So uh, do you have everything together? We should probably head out soon and all.”

“Oh, yes. Applejack checked everything over twice, we should have everything.” Marina answered with a smile, and Spike nodded: yet even as reassured as he felt, he had a feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“Well, uh... then I guess we're ready to go.” Spike said, although what he really wanted to add was 'after I check things over once or twice.' But he was just the assistant, and it wasn't really his place to doubt the ponies: he hoped for the best and cleaned up the worst. That was his job.

Marina nodded to him, although she hesitated a little too, and Spike cocked his head. But the mare shook hers after a moment, giving a short sigh before she forced a little smile and said: “Okay. Why don't you lead the way, Spike? I'm uh... I'm not very good at taking charge.”

“I'll try.” Spike said dubiously, nodding awkwardly before he turned and headed out the door. Moonbeam was loitering off to one side, and the fillies were prancing around and chatting excitedly with each other, and Spike hesitated for a moment before he cleared his throat loudly.

No one so much as looked in his direction.

Spike scowled, and made a louder 'ahem!'

Again, no one looked at him, and Spike sighed before he rolled his eyes, then tilted his head back and spat a short burst of fire into the air, which made the three fillies half-fall all over each other as they stared at him.

“So uh, are we ready to leave?” Spike asked, as he clapped his claws together, and the girls traded looks before Apple Bloom and Sweetie nodded, and Scootaloo shrugged. “Great! Okay, where's the wagon?”

“Wagon?” Apple Bloom asked dubiously, and Spike smiled even though he realized that things were already going terribly wrong.

“Yep, the wagon. Since there's a little bit too much to just carry and all.” Spike pointed out, and the fillies traded looks as Spike looked around, then turned to Marina and asked: “Applejack told you about the wagon, right?”

Marina smiled awkwardly, and Spike repressed a sigh before he nodded and started: “Well, Big Mac will probably know-”

“Oh no, we don't need to go botherin' anypony now. It's bad enough Applejack decided to stay another night and all.” Apple Bloom huffed.

Sweetie nodded, then added, as if it was the best idea she'd ever had: “Well, if there's too much to carry, why don't we just carry less? We only need the essentials, after all.”

“Yeah, like marshmallows and hot chocolate!” Scootaloo added, and before Spike could stop them, the fillies all threw down their bags and began to root through them, Spike wincing and stumbling forwards as he gestured at them wildly.

“Wait, wait, no, we can-” Spike started, but too late: the fillies had already dumped most of the bags out, leaving a mess of supplies and food scattered over the ground. They started rooting through these piles immediately, and Spike slapped his forehead before he pleaded: “Alright, just pack those bags back up and then we'll figure out who can carry what, and-”

“I can carry most of it, don't worry. The weight isn't a problem for me.” Marina promised. “Alright, let's get the bags packed back up...”

There were a few grumbles from the fillies, but they did as they were asked... or tried to, at least. Spike guessed that Applejack had probably packed those bags in the first place: when the girls threw things back in willy-nilly, they quickly ran out of space.

“Well... that stuff doesn't look important anyway! And even better, see, now we've gotten rid of some extra weight!” Sweetie Belle declared, and Apple Bloom and Scootaloo both nodded in agreement.

Spike stared at the three for a few moments, and then he gestured at the pile of supplies on the ground, asking disbelievingly: “How do you even know-”

“Oh, Applejack always overpacks, it'll be fine!” Apple Bloom huffed, and then she quickly threw the pack over her back as she straightened, adding: “Now, time's a wastin' and we're ready to go!”

“Yeah, let's get going!” Sweetie Belle added with a smile, bouncing on her hooves before she spun around, calling out: “Last one to the road's a smelly horseapple!”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo both immediately leapt off after her, and Spike sighed as he gestured helplessly at the pile of stuff left behind by the excitable fillies. But Moonbeam only shrugged as she turned to follow after the young ponies, and Marina smiled lamely before she said finally: “Well uh... I guess that we should probably go too...”

“I... yeah. I know that Granny Smith or Big Mac will probably clean it up.” Spike said after a moment. That wasn't exactly the point, which he thought Marina knew, but he also knew that... well... “I guess we don't want the girls running ahead without us. Can you help with the other bags?”

Marina nodded, walking over to pick up the other satchels and packs: Spike caught the faint grimace she made before he turned towards her, and she hid it under another smile, saying: “I'm ready whenever you are.”

“Okay.” Spike said after a moment, and then he shrugged once before holding in a sigh and starting forwards down the path to the road.

They caught up with the fillies just outside of the ranch, Moonbeam studying them moodily and carrying a single small satchel against her side. Spike did his best to resist a frown as he waved a claw, saying: “Okay, let's get in line, I know you're eager to be off but-”

“Yep, let's go! I know the way, I can lead!” Scootaloo blurted out, waving a hoof, and Spike couldn't help but reflect that she was much livelier with a full pot of coffee in her and her friends around.

“Okay, but stay close, don't run ahead too far.” Spike cautioned as he glanced at Marina: but she only smiled at him, as if she was trying to reassure him that she was fine under the weight of the bags she was carrying... although metal legs or not, I think we're going to need to take a few breaks here and there...

Scootaloo huffed and gestured airily with a foreleg, and somehow this didn't exactly reassure the dragon even as she said: “Hey, no worries. We've been there so many times I know it like the back of my hoof!”

Spike dearly wanted to make a retort, but he bit it back, instead saying patiently: “Well, Marina and Moonbeam want to take in the sights and I can't keep up with how fast you are. So you know-”

“Hey, I could carry you!” Scootaloo bragged, then paused and awkwardly shifted the pack she was carrying, adding lamely: “You know, uh, if I wasn't already carrying all this stuff. Then I could totally carry you.”

Spike held back a scowl, but thankfully Marina interrupted: “I think we should just let you girls lead, and we'll follow behind. Just don't go too far ahead, alright?”

It was the exact same thing as Spike had said, but coming from an adult – and a pony, or at least something that looked like a pony, as uncharitable as that was for Spike to think – the three fillies immediately all saluted and nodded, Sweetie promising: “Don't worry, we won't go very far! Spike knows the way anyway!”

“Okay girls, let's go!” Apple Bloom declared, and she and Scootaloo muscled each other for lead position as Sweetie Belle pranced along behind them happily, Moonbeam rolling her eyes as she followed and Spike and Marina trading a look before the chocolate mare smiled at him, then quickly trotted over to her friend.

Spike sighed tiredly, rubbing at his cheeks before he sullenly followed along last. Well, it could be worse, he supposed tiredly. All he had to do was make sure they got to the campsite in one piece. After that, he could spend as much time as possible sleeping. Well, at least when he wasn't making meals, cleaning up, fetching water...

But really, how was that so different from every other day?

Spike trudged along in the wake of the ponies, grumbling under his breath. One day, he promised himself, everything would be different.

Rain, Rain, Rain

Chapter Three: Rain, Rain, Rain
~BlackRoseRaven

Well, Spike reflected, at least things couldn't get any worse.

He knew that was like spitting into the wind, but all the same, he really, honestly, didn't think things could get a lot worse than they were already.

The trip had been a disaster. Back when they had been only a few hours out, one of the old packs had torn and spilled their stuff all over the road. They had struggled to fit as much as they could into other bags, but it just hadn't been possible without overstuffing them and risking them ripping, too.

So that had been great.

In the end, they had been forced to re-sort the bags, toss their few precious expendables – there went the juice boxes and the snacks Spike had packed for himself – and then they had continued on their way, now an hour or so behind schedule.

But it hadn't been long before Moonbeam had decided that she needed to take a rest. Marina obviously hadn't wanted to make waves and the fillies had been impatient at first, but after Moonbeam dropped herself on a log and refused to move, they had grudgingly dispersed.

Marina had eventually got Moonbeam back on her hooves, but Spike had realized too late that the fillies were gone. It had taken them almost half an hour for him and Marina to find the girls, and then another half hour for them to get packed up and going again because Sweetie Belle wanted to do her mane and Scootaloo fell asleep under a tree and Apple Bloom was just being cranky.

It had all been a mess, but hey, they hadn't been that far behind schedule, right?

Right?

So they had trudged onward, Marina trying to lighten the mood, Spike just wanting to get to the campsite, Moonbeam not helping and the fillies gravitating between excitable and frustrated.

It had started to rain, because of course it had started to rain. They had been close to the campsite, however, close enough they could see the park on the horizon, so they had just pushed on down the road, hiding now and then when the trees allowed it. But then they had come to another problem: at the end of the road leading into the public park, they had found a locked gate.

While sneaking around it would not have exactly been a huge task, the group had spent a good ten minutes standing in the rain, arguing about what the right thing to do was: sure, they had a permit and they were supposed to camp here for the night, but the road was closed, so was it really right for them to keep pushing forward? Spike had quickly gotten soaked and frustrated while watching the ponies futilely debate, until he'd finally sighed, turned, wiggled through the wide bars of the gate, and unlocked it from the other side before lying as he swung it open: “Guys, it was just closed.”

“Oh. I could have sworn I pushed on it.” Marina had said dubiously, and Moonbeam had silently locked her eyes on Spike, telling him that she knew precisely what he had done.

The dragon had squirmed on the spot for a moment, but then the fillies had rushed past. And Sweetie Belle had immediately stumbled at the side of the path before squeaking when it had crumbled out from beneath her, falling with a splash into a mud puddle.

Apple Bloom, not thinking, had leapt over to help her friend, and promptly fallen when the side of the road crumbled beneath her, splashing down into the creek on top of her friend.

All the screaming and commotion had attracted a local ranger, who chastised them before he explained that he'd locked the gate because the rain weakened the road and made it slippery. Marina had earnestly answered that the gate hadn't been locked, and the ranger had scratched his head in confusion before shrugging and leading them back out, telling them the safest bet was to go around to another trail: they could find a campsite from there.

So, they had gone on their way, because at this point they hadn't really had a choice. They had pushed on through the downpour, found the path, followed it into the park and set up at the first campsite they had found.

Or they had tried to, anyway: the fillies had torn open a wall of their tent while setting it up, and they were now clustered in with Marina and Moonbeam, and Spike was huddled in the corner of the torn one, because apparently one of the things Applejack had removed back in Ponyville was the little pup tent he had packed for himself.

They didn't have enough food to get through the week, they had left behind matches because Sweetie had forgotten they weren't going to have a unicorn who could create fire with them, and they were going to have to patch the tent when the rain stopped, or they weren't going to have enough room for everypony to sleep.

Well, Spike reflected, they still weren't going to have enough room for him to sleep anywhere comfortable, but he guessed that he wasn't exactly surprised by that turn of events. He had fully expected everything to somehow turn to manure: he just hadn't expected it to happen so fast.

But hey, at least things couldn't get worse, right?

“Hey Spike, do you have a moment?” asked a voice, and Spike looked up in surprise through the torn side of the tent to see Marina standing outside, smiling awkwardly as she floated a piece of cloth above her head to act as a makeshift umbrella.

“Sure, uh, come on in.” Spike said awkwardly, gesturing at the tear in the tent, and Marina nodded. She fidgeted a little on her metal hooves, glancing down almost with embarrassment at the muck on them, but Spike only smiled wryly as he shrugged and gestured at the puddle that had already formed on one side of the tent. “Don't worry. You're not going to make it any worse.”

Marina laughed awkwardly as she stepped into the tent, and she gave a sigh that was only half-relief as she tossed the soaked cloth off to the side before she shook her head out and glanced up her wet, straggling hair.

Spike studied her curiously for a few moments: Marina seemed tired. Much more tired than he had thought at first: so tired that frustration was eking through her usual smile, as her eyes wandered away from the dragon for a moment, and he understood... “Had to get away for a minute, huh?”

Marina blinked, and then she gave a lame smile before she nodded hesitantly. Spike smiled back, then he shrugged a bit as he said finally: “They mean well. Which I mean, I'm sure you already know that, but... they mean well.”

“Yes. They do.” Marina agreed after a moment, and the two were quiet for a few moments before the unicorn said honestly: “I think I'm in over my head here. And I'm sorry, too, because... you don't seem very thrilled, Spike.”

Spike smiled awkwardly, then he shrugged a bit before he studied Marina for a few moments. She was quiet, still studying him silently, and in spite of the fact she was a unicorn and had those metal limbs and, unlike him, a real hero, she had more respect for him than it felt like other ponies did.

But as his eyes lingered to those mechanical limbs, he remembered that she was a Changeling, and she knew what it was like to be an outsider, too.

He bit his lip, then he blurted out: “It really sucks.”

Marina cocked her head, and Spike rubbed awkwardly at the back of his before he continued: “Yeah, it sucks. It seems like every time something happens, I always get stuck cleaning up the mess, you know? And I guess it bothers me more because the ponies are all really good ponies, they are, but they just seem so... inconsiderate sometimes.”

Marina nodded, smiling a little as she answered: “Ponies are strange. They always mean well, I've learned that much at least... they just always seem to disagree on how to get there. I don't think they're inconsiderate so much as... oblivious. Maybe that's why they get so caught up in things that they tend to just trample everyone else on their way to get there, if that makes any sense.”

“It does to me.” Spike muttered, who understood that well after many years of being literally and figuratively trampled by the ponies.

Marina smiled a little, nodding again, and then she asked: “So is this what you do? Just look after ponies all day long?”

“Twilight's number one assistant.” Spike said with a distinct lack of his usual pride and enthusiasm, and then he sighed as he asked: “What about you? Do you just look after Moonbeam these days?”

“I think we look after each other.” Marina hesitated, then she shook her head and added: “No, Moonbeam's a... a good friend. Right now I guess I'm technically between jobs still... I just help out at the shop and sell things in Ponyville. Candy apples don't really pay the bills, unfortunately...”

Marina looked away, and Spike cocked his head curiously. Then she smiled a bit and shook herself out of whatever she was thinking about, asking instead: “So have you always been with Twilight? I don't know if that's... rude to ask or not...”

“No, it's fine.” It was a question he was often asked, after all. “Twilight hatched me when I was an egg. I've been with her ever since she was little: she's always taken care of me. And I've always been her assistant, ever since I was little, as far back as I can remember.”

Usually this was something Spike spoke of with pride, but today, he could barely manage to lift his eyes, let alone his head. Marina studied him, and then she smiled a little herself and stated, more than asked: “But I bet you think about what life would be like if you could just go your own way sometimes, don't you?”

Spike shrugged a bit, and then he said honestly: “I've spent my whole life doing things for ponies and... never really making a lot of progress towards the things I want to do. Sure, I wish I could have an adventure of my own... really of my own. But I worry, too, because I know I've had chances to leave, and I've had adventures and I've helped and...”

Marina tilted her head, then she smiled a little more. “You worry what they'll do without you. But you also like the familiarity, huh?”

Spike nodded, smiling back before he asked hesitantly: “Is that a Changeling thing? That whole... picking up on my thoughts before I can ever say it?”

Marina laughed a little, then she shrugged a bit. “Yes, but it's also... I guess I've been there before too. I'm much happier now, happier than I've ever been... but it was hard to give up being a Changeling and become... whatever I am now.”

Marina looked down at one of her mechanical limbs, and then she hesitated before admitting something that sometimes still bothered her, in the pit of her mind: “I wish sometimes I could go back to how it was before, that everything could just be the way it was. It wasn't good. It wasn't better than this. But it was easier, and I didn't have to make decisions or think for myself or feel bad about what I did. I just obeyed.

“But I know it would be bad. I know that I've done good things and... that just because I was able to ignore it, there weren't still people suffering. I was suffering, too, and I was... I wasn't me. I wasn't free.” Marina looked up with a small laugh. “Freedom is scary.”

Spike smiled a little, and there was silence between the two as they meditated on the mare's words. Spike understood she wasn't just saying these things for his sake: that she was struggling herself with... everything, really.

His eyes flicked up slightly as the pattering of the rain lessened, and Marina glanced up as well before she leaned out of the torn hole in the tent. “It's lightening.”

“It must be pretty late, though.” Spike said dubiously, letting the implications of that hang before he added: “But I guess if you get some dry wood, I can probably try and light it...”

He wasn't entirely sure if he could or not: ponies didn't seem to understand that he couldn't just breathe fire on everything: the wrong focus, the wrong reflex, and he'd end up blasting the firewood to Canterlot. His breath was hot, but it took concentration to make it searing.

The ponies had seen to that.

That wasn't fair, no. That wasn't fair at all. His magic breath had a lot of uses. He just... hadn't learned all of them yet. And that wasn't the ponies' fault, not really...

Spike realized Marina was looking at him, and he cleared his throat before he said finally: “In the meantime, I can uh, sew this up. Maybe. Did we bring anything I can use?”

“I'll go see.” Marina said, glancing out of the tent again as the rain tapered further, and then she slipped out, and Spike sighed a little before he picked himself up, giving the mare a silent 'thank you' before he slipped out of the tent.

He grimaced as he squelched immediately into mud, and he rose his foot slowly free from the muck with a scowl. So they hadn't picked the best campsite either, okay: that was understandable, they had been desperate for anywhere clear enough to throw up their tents to get out of the rain.

Spike glanced up, then frowned as he caught a rustle in the bushes. He cocked his head curiously, beginning to step towards the disturbance, but then he heard a crack, and his attention was drawn to-

Spike stared blankly as the tent the fillies had been collapsed, and the occupants immediately panicked. Marina blurted something from beside the tent, trying to get them to calm down, but then winced as a horn tore through the fabric of the tent, then ripped back and forth, tearing a large gash through the cloth wall that Sweetie Belle stuck her face through with a gasp before she squeaked when Scootaloo tried to ram out the little hole, tearing it far wider, as the shape of Apple Bloom half-rolled into the opposite side of the tent, stretching and ripping the material.

A moment later, Moonbeam tore her way out, popping the zipper loose from the tent flap, and Marina and Spike were both left staring before Apple Bloom blurted from where she had fallen, trapped inside the tent fabric: “What happened?”

Moonbeam glared at Marina, and Marina flinched before she looked back and forth, helplessly floating a bag beside her as she started: “I was just looking-”

“You idiot!” Moonbeam snapped, and Marina flinched and shrank her head. “You must have dislodged one of the poles! This is your fault!”

“I'm sorry.” Marina hurriedly apologized, shrinking back a bit before she shook her head and added: “I don't think-”

“I know that.” Moonbeam said drolly, and Spike winced before he hurried forward.

“Okay guys, let's calm down.” he said, before things could get any more out of hoof. Moonbeam scowled at him, but as ruffled as she looked, she stopped glaring at Marina, so that was something, at least. “Look, we need to patch the tents before we do anything else. Let's just get everyone organized while we have a minute and-”

Thunder crackled through the sky above, and Spike looked up in disbelief as, like a cosmic joke, the rain that had begun to lighten suddenly increased in intensity. Lightning flashed as the drizzle became a downpour once more, a heavy sheet of water pouring down over them and drenching the hapless ponies.

Sweetie Belle almost immediately burst into tears as Moonbeam swore and hurried under a tree, and Scootaloo blinked and stared dumbly up into the sky. Marina winced as she half-lifted the bag over her head as Spike grimaced and looked back and forth before his eyes locked on the pile of their other bags, safe under a thick, short tree.

Since he was already soaked and painfully aware that they weren't all going to fit inside the remaining, already-damaged tent, he hurried over to the bags and dug through the packs until he dragged out a large, folded tarp. He headed quickly back across the clearing as he took a quick look around, his sharp eyes locking on four trees in particular that would suit his needs.

He grimaced as he scampered up one of these, climbing quickly and efficiently even as the rain pelted him and the bark shifted under his claws and leaves rasped against him. He hated the dirt and the awful humid rain, but he was determined to at least do something to make it better, however much or little he could.

He tied one corner of the tarp around a branch, then hopped down and scampered to another tree, repeating the process. After a few minutes – during which the ponies only stared – he managed to get the tarp up to form a ceiling at an angle, the little dragon now covered in dirt and leaves, brushing water from his scales as he muttered: “At least we can stay a little dry.”

Moonbeam grumbled as she and the others came in under the tarp: it was a tight fit, but they all managed to scrunch in together, all the same. Spike winced as he was nearly bodychecked back out into the rain, but he managed to secure a small corner for himself as Apple Bloom said anxiously: “I think the tent's just about ruined.”

“Thank you, Spike.” Marina said pointedly.

Spike smiled, even as this went ignored by the others, Sweetie saying worriedly: “What are we going to do? We can stay here like this! It's gross and muddy and... and gross!”

“Maybe if you hadn't cut the tent open with your stupid horn we'd have somewhere to sleep.” Scootaloo grumbled, and Sweetie glared at her.

“Maybe if you hadn't torn the entire wall open-”

“Girls, this isn't going anywhere!” Marina said, exasperation seeping into her voice. “Look, we can probably use another tarp-”

“If we have one.” Moonbeam grumbled unhelpfully.

Spike sighed as the fillies shifted nervously and Marina closed her eyes for a moment, then said carefully: “Even if we don't, we can... well, we can sort of use the tents, as long as we keep them under this tarp, right? And I'm sure the weather will clear up, and... and then we won't even want the tents!”

“I don't know.” Sweetie said dubiously. “I like to sleep inside.”

Scootaloo opened her mouth, but thankfully – or not – Moonbeam cut in grumpily: “I like to eat. What are we going to do for food?”

“I know a lot about-” started Marina, but she was cut off by a baleful glare from Moonbeam, the unicorn awkwardly looking away as she shifted on her metal hooves before half-suggesting: “We passed a store?”

“What use is a store if we have no money?” argued Moonbeam, looking around at the fillies, and from the way they all shifted lamely, it was clear that she was right in assuming no one had remembered to bring any bits.

Spike sighed a little: he wanted to suggest they go home. But he knew the ponies – and especially the fillies – well enough by now that he was aware suggesting that himself would just make them dig in deeper. Marina might listen, but Moonbeam clearly just wanted to take her stress out on the Changeling, and the girls, well... there's a downside to believing you can do anything you put your mind to.

“Okay, well, we have enough at least for tomorrow-”

Moonbeam grunted, and Marina winced, as if her refusal to respond was somehow worse than her retorts. The chocolate-colored mare lowered her head a little, but before she could speak again, Apple Bloom hesitantly put forth: “Well, uh, we were all in filly scouts and I definitely know how to forage, and what's edible and... not...”

Moonbeam turned a sour, icy look on her, and Apple Bloom slowly looked away before the unicorn suddenly said rudely: “Your makeup's running.”

Apple Bloom's eyes widened as Marina winced and Scootaloo looked up with a glare, but they were thankfully interrupted by a crack of lightning, the herd of horses instinctively squeezing themselves together with a flinch. Spike took the opportunity to scramble quickly out from beneath the tarp, hurrying over to two of the bags and dragging them quickly in under the lip of the tarp as he said loudly: “Well, looks like we're going to be stuck here tonight, so we better try and get comfortable!”

The mares grumbled and shifted, but they stayed mostly quiet as Spike went about busying himself with pulling out bedrolls, and, as loathe as he was to do so, several picnic cloths that he spread out over the mud. He also dug out a towel, but he only hesitated for a moment before tossing this towards the mares, saying: “Well, we can wipe the mud off with this. The blankets aren't great, but they'll stop the bedrolls from getting too dirty, at least. Does everypony have a sleeping bag?”

“Uh, we'll manage.” Scootaloo said evasively, and Moonbeam grunted as she looked away, while Marina only looked embarrassed. Spike wasn't really surprised by any of these reactions at this point: he just forced himself to smile and keep moving.

At least they took the towel to wipe the mud off their hooves.

Sweetie levitated the other bags towards them with magic so they could dig out the bedrolls and sleeping bags: somehow, Spike wasn't surprised to find out they only had three sleeping bags. Sweetie, to her credit, came up with a decent solution for part of it, at least: by unzipping two sleeping bags, the three could scrunch themselves up and use one as padding and the other as a blanket.

“Crusader sandwich.” Spike was unable to remark, before he glanced over at Marina and Moonbeam. “And well, what about-”

Moonbeam looked moodily at Marina, and Marina gave an awkward laugh before she waved off: “I'll be fine. Moonbeam can have my bag.”

Moonbeam grunted, then she turned away and scowled out into the rain. Spike's eyes flicked between the two of them, but even as he grimaced, he forced himself not to speak: if Marina didn't want to speak up for herself, well, he couldn't really help her.

The ponies argued for a little while and took quite a bit to settle in, but with nothing else to do and the exhaustions and disappointments of the day, it didn't take long for them to fall asleep. Spike sighed as he tightened a loose cloth around himself, wishing he could fall asleep just as easily as he retreated to his little corner and scowled at the ceiling of tarp above.

All he wanted was a day or two to himself. Some time to think and figure out things. But the world kept moving, the ponies kept demanding... well, he guessed that wasn't any different than it was for anyone else, really. Except sometimes it just seemed like at the end of the day, everything the ponies couldn't handle, they dumped on him, which meant he ended up carrying a little bit of the load for everyone else, on top of his own problems.

He couldn't pretend there wasn't pride in that. How could he not be proud of that? But at the same time, he hated it. And more and more he found himself asking if it was really worth all the struggle: how much pleasure could he take in a job well done when the weight of those jobs were starting to break his back?

Okay, he supposed that was a little theatrical. He guessed that he had picked up more than one of the pony's habits, in all the time he had spent around them. He sighed a little, but he couldn't stop himself from giving a small smile: maybe the fact ponies couldn't keep their priorities straight was why he was having so much trouble figuring things out for himself, too.

A cold breeze rattled by, and Spike shivered a little as he looked out into the darkness. There was an almost complete absence of light, thanks to the dark clouds suffusing the sky above: even with his night vision – better by far than a pony's – he could barely see more than a foot ahead of his face.

His senses were further confused by the rain and the wind: if he listened too hard, he could swear it was almost like the world was speaking to him. It was a little frightening: after all, here they were, with little protection from the elements, no fire to warm them or illuminate their world, and no means of escape if anything went wrong.

They were so far away from home, with so little to rely on. Maybe that was exaggeration, but it felt like the truth: at any moment, something could go wrong, something could get worse. Sure, he kept telling himself, things couldn't get any worse than they already had, but he knew that was a lie. The wind and the rain and the rumblings in his own mind told him that things could, and would, get even worse before they got better.

He heard something that didn't match the rhythm of the rain or the wind, and the dragon frowned uneasily as he looked out into the darkness, scanning the imperceptible absence and rain for any sign of what it might have been. He shivered and pulled the blanket a bit tighter around himself, eyes shifting back and forth before he started a little as a voice whispered to him: “What's wrong?”

“Oh, Marina!” Spike wheezed out a sigh of relief, looking anxiously back at the mare: she stepped up beside him, her horn lighting up as she scanned through the darkness, and Spike shook his head before he muttered: “Probably... probably just an animal, that's all. I guess I'm a little on edge. I don't know why. I shouldn't be.”

“We're away from home and well... things haven't gone very well today.” Marina admitted after a moment, giving a small smile to the little dragon. She sat down beside him, her horn still glowing as she added: “I don't sense anything out there. I only feel... simple emotions. Animal emotions, I guess would be the best way to put it.”

Spike nodded a bit, but it didn't reassure him much for some reason. He still couldn't help but stare off into the darkness, wondering aloud: “Well, I guess in that case we just have to worry about a manticore, or a hydra, or an ursa major...”

Marina smiled despite herself, and Spike shook his head with a sigh before he gave a small smile, saying finally: “Sorry. I just... I guess I'm kind of just waiting to see what happens next.”

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.” Marina shrugged a bit, and Spike cocked his head towards her. “Just some advice that Octavia's given me, more than once. I try to keep it in mind: I mean, worrying about things will just make it worse, won't it?”

Spike shrugged a bit, looking out into the darkness as he answered: “But isn't it better to expect what you're more likely to get, than to constantly have those hopes smashed? I don't know if I could live like that.”

“I didn't say it was easy.” Marina smiled despite herself before she looked out into the darkness of the night as well, chewing on her lip before she shook her head. “I don't know. But I think if all you're assuming is the worst is going to happen, at some point, you would just... give up, because why bother if it's going to turn out badly anyway?”

“Why bother hoping for more if you know it isn't going to happen, though? I think at some point, that would crush you too. No one can keep smiling forever.” Spike murmured, and the two fell into a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable: it only was.

Spike eventually glanced up, but Marina nodded to him, acknowledged him, didn't make him make the first move or argue with him, as she admitted: “I don't know what to do. Should I make them go back? Should we try and stay another day? Do I run all the way back to Ponyville to get money so we can buy new supplies somewhere?”

“Even the ponies wouldn't make me do the last thing.” Spike replied mildly, and then he shook his head and said finally: “Let's see how things play out tomorrow, I guess. We have enough supplies still to last at least a few days, right? And once it's dry we can see about fixing the tents at least a little.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Marina smiled briefly, and then she started after a moment: “Spike, do you think...”

Spike frowned, tilting his head towards the mare, but the Changeling only smiled briefly before she shook her head and murmured: “Nevermind. Spike... try and get some sleep, alright?”

“Alright.” Spike said, nonplussed, before he added after a brief hesitation: “You too. And try not to let the ponies walk all over you, okay?”

Marina blushed a bit, but then she nodded before turning away, carefully making her way back to her own corner under the tarp by the aid of her horn's glow.

Spike watched for a moment, then he shook his head and turned away, grimacing as he tightened the blanket around himself, and shivering a little as he looked out into the darkness and the falling rain.

And out there, somewhere, he thought he heard another shift that broke the rhythm of the storm, and the dragon grimaced as he realized that for a thousand reasons, he wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight.

God, he hoped one day these ponies would realize just how much trouble they could be.

Gone Girls

Chapter Four: Gone Girls
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike blinked blearily, struggling not to yawn. His whole body felt tight and loose at the same time, like he had been stretched out, and even though the rain had stopped hours ago, he still felt a disgusting slickness over his scales, like he had turned into a snake or something.

He shook himself out, then rubbed vehemently at his face before he looked up, watching as Marina came trundling back into the campsite with a load of wood. She dropped these with a wheeze, and Moonbeam scowled from where she was laying on the tarp, but thankfully didn't say anything. Then again, Marina's eyes were still a little puffy from when she'd cried a little, and he thought even Moonbeam wasn't so heartless that she could stand seeing another pony cry.

The fillies were... Spike had lost track. They'd come and gone a few times: they all gave Moonbeam a wide berth, and they had mostly ignored him. He was used to that: he tended to get the tail end of whatever the ponies were dealing with at the time, but he didn't really blame them for that. Ponies were almost slaves to their emotions: he thought that was why they could be so good to each other, but also, well, so petty.

Spike yawned again, rubbing at his eyes before he glanced up as Marina approached him, and he frowned a bit before gesturing awkwardly at one of her mechanical legs, saying: “Uh. You got something stuck in there.”

“Oh.” Marina blushed a bit, using telekinesis to remove a few long pieces of grass that had gotten caught in the joints of her synthetic limbs. She studied them for a moment, then grimaced a bit and admitted: “I think yesterday and today have been harder on these things than all the months combined.”

Spike smiled briefly, and then Marina looked up and asked: “Can you light a fire for me?”

“I can try.” Spike said dubiously, and then he shrugged a bit as he clambered up to his feet, grimacing as his bones cracked loudly. It's like I aged ten years overnight. “My fire breath doesn't always work right, since it's enchanted.”

“That's okay. I appreciate you trying, at least.” Marina answered with a smile, and Spike smiled back: that little bit of extra kindness helped his motivation and confidence more than most ponies ever realized. “I was thinking that we could look for a bit of food today. I can forage and make some basic tools. Can you eat fish?”

Spike nodded as he approached the campfire, even as he confessed: “I can, but I don't often eat much meat or anything. The ponies all much prefer me to eat gemstones over anything uh... icky.”

'Icky' wasn't his word for it, but it was the word the ponies preferred, because to them, the idea of eating any kind of meat was taboo, if not monstrous. He guessed he understood... but at the same time, he wondered just a little if he wouldn't be so small still if they just let him eat a bit of chicken now and then.

He studied the stack of wood in the firepit for a moment, then glanced over at Marina and asked: “Do we have any spare paper? There might be some in one of the bags that wasn't soaked.”

“I'll check.” Marina didn't question him, didn't argue, didn't treat him like less than a person. She just went off and quickly checked the bag, then returned with some parchment scraps, even as Moonbeam watched grouchily from a short distance away. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Spike slipped most of the parchment down under the arrangement of wood, and then he rolled up the last and concentrated for a moment before breathing out a short, sharp gust of flame that licked the paper, then thankfully caught instead of making it whirl away.

He used the makeshift torch to light the parchment under the firewood, then a few smaller, drier pieces of kindling around the edge of the firepit. He smiled as the flames caught, studying them silently: this was good. He knew they had modified his dragon's breath for more reasons than just because it made it easy for Twilight to communicate with others: fire was dangerous. Fire could hurt.

But fire could provide heat and safety and comfort, too. He just needed a chance to prove that he could be a good dragon, if they'd only let him be more than... Twilight's number one assistant.

Marina gently patted his shoulder, and Spike looked up at her with an awkward smile. She smiled back as if she understood just what he was thinking about, but she only said: “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Spike stretched a bit, and then he asked: “Have you seen the girls? I haven't really been paying attention, I guess. What time even is it?”

“It's still morning. I don't know where they are either, but since they've been coming and going as they please, I think it's probably okay.” Marina glanced away for a moment, and then she shook her head quickly. “Anyway. If you can keep an eye on the fire for a little while, I'll go see what I can dig up in terms of food.”

Spike nodded and smiled back, then watched as Marina left. He sat himself down beside the fire, then leaned back, enjoying the heat of the flames as he yawned a little.

It felt so nice. The day was clear, the ground had dried up a little, and the warmth of the flames caressed his scales and worked its way into his sore muscles, helping him to finally relax. He was more than happy to just sit and doze and stoke the flames...

Spike shifted a bit, then settled down beside the flames, his eyes growing heavy, but he swore he wasn't going to sleep even as he lay down. He wiggled into a more comfortable position, and his eyes opened, and shut; flickered, then opened, and shut...

Spike blinked blearily as something shook him, and then he grimaced and pushed himself up a sitting position before he blanched at the sight of the dying fire. He winced and looked quickly back to see Marina standing over him, the little dragon blurting: “I'm sorry, I must have-”

“Have you seen the girls?” asked Marina, much more anxiously, and Spike blinked. As he tried to process what she had just asked, Marina shook her head and continued worriedly: “It's been three hours now, and they haven't come back yet. I can't sense them nearby, either. I think something might have happened to them?”

“What could happen out here?” Spike asked, but he knew better than most just how much trouble your average pony could get into in any seemingly-innocuous place... and those fillies are exceptional when it comes to getting into trouble. “Maybe... they probably got lost, but we shouldn't have too much trouble tracking them down-”

“What if something worse happened, though? I should have been paying attention to them, they're just fillies!” Marina blurted out, and then she shook her head and rubbed at her face, mumbling: “I screwed up. I ruined things, and-”

“Okay, hey, whoa there. Let's not get carried away now.” Spike said quickly, wincing a bit as he held up his claws in supplication. “You can't blame yourself for them running off. They're not just fillies anymore, they're almost mares. And even when they were just fillies, they were still almost impossible to keep track of.”

“Then I should have done better. There could be anything out there, Spike. And I'm here, and that means...” Marina broke off, then visibly reined herself in, clenching her eyes tightly.

“Shut up.” Moonbeam said shortly, and Spike winced as Marina flinched, looking up at the unicorn as she approached. “Let's go and find them so we can finally eat.”

“But-”

“Enough.” Moonbeam interrupted, and Marina lowered her head as the mare continued rudely: “You got in over your head, like you always do. So now you have to fix things, like you always do. But you always do, once you stop worrying and being stupid. So stop it, and let's fix this.”

“O-Okay.” Marina said after a moment, taking a breath and steadying herself, and she smiled a little after a moment even as Spike cocked his head towards Moonbeam, wondering if he'd missed something in that exchange.

Still, there was no time to think about that, as he asked: “Marina, can you track them at all? You used to be a scout, right?”

“Oh, I... yes. Actually...” Marina hesitated, then she closed one eye and concentrated, and the other eye seemed to flash as she bit her lip and muttered: “That still hurts. I can track them with this, too. But the problem is there are hoofprints and traces of them all over the place: I don't know which way to go...”

Spike had no idea what 'this' was, but he decided not to ask questions for now, instead closing his eyes and thinking.

The girls had already been gone when he had started the fire. They had been in and out of the campsite all morning. He hadn't been paying much attention, but he thought he remembered that at some point he had seen Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle come back... but Apple Bloom hadn't been with them. He hadn't really thought anything of it then: the girls were unpredictable chaos, and they hadn't seemed very anxious. He half-remembered Sweetie trilling 'this way!' or something to that effect...

“That way.” Spike pointed at a narrow path through the trees. “Sweetie and Scootaloo went that way. I think they were going after Apple Bloom.”

“Good work stopping them.” Moonbeam remarked, and Spike scowled at the laconic mare before the unicorn turned and strode quickly off, muttering: “I'm going to kill those mares when I find them. And I'm never going on another 'camping trip' again.”

“Fine by me.” Spike muttered to himself, and then he smiled awkwardly up at Marina when she blushed and looked away, shifting uncomfortably on her hooves. “You better take the lead. See if you can track them with your uh... thing.”

“Yes, of course.” Marina nodded and quickly ran ahead, giving Moonbeam an embarrassed smile as she passed, and Spike brought up the rear, lingering a little and avoiding getting too close to Moonbeam.

Once they got going, Marina seemed to somehow know where to go: Spike guessed that was due to whatever 'thing' she had mentioned. At first, it seemed like they were just following a natural trail through the forest, and Spike could easily imagine how the girls could have come this way and wandered a little too far-

“Oh no.” came a murmur from ahead, and Spike looked up, hurrying forwards to join Marina and Moonbeam beside a branch with a torn piece of ribbon wrapped around it...

“Apple Bloom?” Spike whispered, before he grimaced and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting: “Apple Bloom! Sweetie Belle! Scootaloo!”

There was no answer: just a ruffled cawing from above, and Spike cursed under his breath as Marina suddenly lowered her head, pawing through the underbrush as Moonbeam muttered: “Great. We need to go get help, we need to-”

“No.” Marina said: she was quiet but firm, and Moonbeam looked at her in surprise before the chocolate-coated mare rose her head, shivering a bit as she said: “There are pawprints here. Apple Bloom was taken. It looks like by Diamond Dogs.”

“Diamond Dogs?” Moonbeam said disbelievingly, and then she shook her head, looking back and forth as she shifted from hoof-to-hoof. “No, then we have to go. We have to leave and get help and-”

“No!” Marina almost shouted, and Moonbeam winced and stared at her with surprise as Spike blinked and stared at the mare, shocked by her change in demeanor.

But Marina caught herself, taking a deep breath before she said in a voice that trembled only a little: “No. Diamond Dogs can move very quickly, and who knows how long she's already been gone? You and Spike should go for help, but I need to go after them before they get away.”

“Are you crazy or just stupid?” Moonbeam snapped, but she was agitated more than angry, continuing to shift from hoof-to-hoof as she tried her damnedest to glare. “Diamond Dogs never travel alone, and if a pack of them took those fillies, they're... they're gone! They're gone, and that's it, and all we can do now is-”

“No.” Marina said quietly, and she shook her head resolutely, visibly firming herself as she repeated: “No. I can... I'm going after them and that's that and I don't have time to argue. This might be the only chance I have to catch up and... I'm going.

“Spike, please take care of Moonbeam.” Marina said, and before her resolution could crumble, before anyone could convince her otherwise, she turned and leapt off into the underbrush, her mechanical legs carrying her quickly away even as Moonbeam shouted after her and Spike helplessly rose a claw.

Marina plowed through the underbrush, following the readings from her cybernetic eye. She was perversely thankful yet again for all she had been through: if the attack on Canterlot had never failed, if she had never lost her limbs and her eye, she never would have been found by Octavia, never saved, never taught what it meant to be a pony, and she never would have been able to help her new friends with her skills alone.

But who knew? Maybe if none of that had ever happened, they would all be in a better place...

No, she had to focus.

Marina ducked under a branch, then leapt over a log: her mechanical legs carried her body like liquid, more agile than her flesh and blood limbs had ever been. They never tired, and they let her cross the deepest mire with barely a ripple, just as they allowed her to kick off a tree with enough force to crack the heavy oak, propelling herself across a gap with ease.

She skidded to a stop as her eye picked up a new reading, and Marina shivered as her nostrils picked it up a moment later. She slowly approached, studying the splash of crimson across the face of a root silently: blood.

There was enough here that it had to be from a fair-sized wound... but the lack of droplets or splatter told her it probably wasn't deep. Maybe a pony had tripped, and then been forcefully dragged over the root, leaving a deep scrape...

Diamond Dogs were always rough with their cargo. That was why Changelings preferred to get their prey themselves, instead of hiring the mercenary race.

Marina shook her head sharply: no, she was leaping to conclusions. There was no reason for there to be Changelings here, and she hadn't sensed or seen any sign of them, and she was... she was always watching for Changelings these days.

Marina took a slow breath, steadying herself before she winced as there was a sharp beep before Octavia said, as calm and firm as if this was a mission: “Report.”

“Apple Bloom and her friends are missing. I think... I'm sure they were taken by Diamond Dogs. I don't know why or how, though, or even when. I'm in pursuit.” Marina said as professionally as she could.

Octavia was by no means her commanding officer and Marina still had no intention of joining the Equestrian military: she had too many of her own demons to deal with yet to be any real use out in the field, she thought. But the protocols were soothing to her: it was easy to fall back into following the chain of command, and taking orders felt safer than making her own decisions.

“Ponies and Diamond Dogs have clashed on more than one occasion, as I'm sure you're aware, Marina.” Octavia answered in her cool tones from the communicator built into Marina's prosthetic forelimb. “This could be a territorial dispute or a kidnapping by a local pack, most likely as a ransom for gemstones.”

Marina nodded as she took a breath, then turned to continue following the trail of residue, asking: “What should I do?”

“I'll inform local authorities.” Octavia answered. “Keep following them, but do not move to engage, you could put the fillies at risk.”

“Okay.” Marina hesitated, then almost blurted out: “What if it's Change-”

“Stay focused, Marina. And stay quiet: Diamond Dogs aren't very bright, but they have exceptional senses. Contact me when you find them.” Octavia steamrollered, and Marina was honestly glad that she had, because it forced herself to take a breath and calm down.

“Okay. I will.” Marina said, even knowing that Octavia had likely already cut the communications link. But it was more for herself than it was for Octavia, anyway: she needed to remind herself she wasn't alone, and there was somepony watching over her.

Marina faced ahead and plunged forward through the forest, hoping that she could do something to save the fillies she felt like she had failed, and fighting desperately against the anxiety worming in her gut that warned her this was only the beginning.

Spike grumbled as he kicked at the firepit: he had already packed up some of the loose ends of the campsite, but he didn't want to take down too much of it in case Marina came back with the girls.

He knew that wasn't going to happen, though. Something in the pit of his stomach boiled and curdled, and he wished that he could do something, anything, to help Marina, to-

“We just... need to go.” Moonbeam muttered, and Spike looked up: the unicorn had dropped her rump at the far end of the campsite and refused to do anything while he had listlessly kicked and moved things around.

But now, in a sudden burst of energy, she leapt to her hooves and seized a nearby pack, gathering the garbage that had accumulated around her and shoving it all in carelessly, without even bothering to look at what she was grabbing, as she snapped: “Come on, we have to go! Let's go, kid! I want to get out of here, so we're going to leave, right now, and Marina can... can...”

Moonbeam sputtered out, staring at the bag floating in her telekinetic grip, and Spike sighed a little before he walked over to her and gently took the bag out of her magic hold. He set it down and carefully pulled a branch that she had accidentally shoved into the bag free, and he studied this for a moment before he bit his lip, then looked up and said: “I'm going to go after her.”

It was the only thing he could think of to do. He had to help, he had to do something, and just running and telling the park ranger wasn't enough. He had to follow Marina and help her however he possibly could.

Moonbeam stared at him incredulously, and then she bared her teeth at him before shouting: “No! Don't be an idiot! We are getting out of here right now and I am not going to be dragged into playing hero along with you and that idiot!”

“You can go.” Spike mumbled, and when Moonbeam leaned in towards him with a scowl, he forced himself to look up and repeat in a braver voice: “You can go, Moonbeam, you... you should go. Go tell the ranger or whoever you can find what happened, but... I'm going after Marina.”

It was hard to stand up to a pony, to any pony, but god, did it feel good once he got it out. Spike looked down at the pack in his claws, and then he dropped it before he began to quickly dig through it as Moonbeam stared at him, before she shouted: “Well, fine! I will!”

With that, she stormed away, but Spike heard her stop at the edge of the camp. He ignored her, however, as he emptied the pack of everything unnecessary before he began to scrounge around the campsite for anything useful he could find.

Eventually, though, he was forced to look in Moonbeam's direction, and he saw she was trembling where she stood, facing away from the campsite and staring in the direction of Ponyville. Of home, and safety. And he couldn't blame her for that, as he sighed a little before starting: “Moonbeam-”

“I don't want your pity.” Moonbeam whispered, and then she clenched her eyes shut before she turned and glared at him through the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I'm not going to be left alone out here and I'm not your messenger girl. Let's find Marina and those stupid ponies and then we're getting out of here. Clear?”

“Okay.” Spike said as gently as he could, and Moonbeam nodded shortly to him before she turned back away, rubbing silently at her eyes with the back of her hoof.

He didn't understand her. Well, that was a lie, he did, a little. She was bitter and angry, and he understood that. He just didn't understand the why.

Spike shook his head briefly as he finished repacking the rucksack: he hoped dearly this was just going to be a quick hike, but he knew by now to prepare for everything. What was it Marina had said? Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

He smiled briefly, then looked over at Moonbeam, saying awkwardly: “Let's uh... let's go.”

Moonbeam didn't respond, but she did turn towards him, and Spike shrugged after a moment before he turned around and started back towards Marina, trying to keep a good pace. He knew that time was precious, and that Marina would be moving much faster than them: on the bright side, he was confident she would be able to catch up to the Diamond Dogs, but on the down side... if she got there, and they weren't close by, how could they hope to help?

Spike grimaced and shifted the pack as Moonbeam stalked along behind him, already grumbling under her breath as she stumbled here and there through the underbrush. Spike couldn't help but look back at her, half-tempted to tell her to hurry up, but also wondering uneasily if she was going to be able to keep up the pace for long: she already seemed like she was getting tired.

But Moonbeam was stoic, and even though she was panting by the time they reached the point of the trail where Marina had broken away from them, she didn't say anything and did her best to hide the stress this was clearly having on her body.

Spike pushed through the underbrush Marina had jumped through, his sharp eyes sliding across the ground in front of him and noting the path she had taken: it was easy enough to see, thanks to the indents left by her mechanical legs, and the broken branches and underbrush she had recklessly plowed through.

He slowed down a little, just enough that he could make sure he was following the right path, and Moonbeam grumbled as she fell into pace behind him, looking uneasily back and forth as she muttered: “This is stupid. We still have time to turn back.”

“You're free to.” Spike grumbled almost carelessly, and then he winced when Moonbeam stepped forwards and bodychecked him, staggering to the side and glaring at her even as he shrank a bit instinctively.

“Look, dragon, you might be able to get away with mouthing off to Marina and those other ponies, but I'm...” And then Moonbeam halted, shifting nervously as she looked back and forth as the trees rustled around them.

Spike frowned uneasily as well as the branches stirred and moved, but then he forced himself to take a breath before he said quietly: “We need to keep moving. For all we know, we might be in danger too, okay?”

“Diamond Dogs might have sent another pack back, maybe... no, there's no way I'm going to be a prisoner again.” Moonbeam muttered, shivering for a moment as she glared back and forth, and then she bit her lip before she looked down at Spike. And even though it was clearly painful for her, she nodded shortly before she gestured sharply with her head at him.

Spike nodded back before he turned to lead her onward, even as branches shifted and rustled around them. Moonbeam lowered herself until she was almost crawling after Spike, who slowed his own pace considerably to make as little noise as possible.

He knew they were being stupid: those branches rustling could be from an animal, from the wind, from a hundred other things, but now that he was thinking about how it could be the Diamond Dogs, the only thing it could possibly be in his mind were Diamond Dogs, or Changelings, or perhaps something even worse. He didn't know what was worse than either of those things, but he also certainly didn't want to find out.

Eventually, the branches stopped rustling, and soon after that the forest thinned a little, letting them see where they were headed. But it also made Spike acutely aware that the sun was starting to go down above: he guessed it didn't feel like that much time had passed purely because of the anxiety keeping him on edge. But at this rate, they were going to have to find a place to set up camp...

Spike paused, then frowned uneasily as he slowed to a stop at a crevice that cut across their path. He looked back and forth, but he couldn't see the end of the gouge through the earth in either direction: all he could see were a few trees that had been shoved across the gorge to create makeshift bridges. He noted that one of these had several tears in the surface of the bark... would Marina's hooves do that?

He bit his lip, then looked back, unsurprised, when Moonbeam snapped: “I am not crossing that.”

“Then you have to go back from here, Moonbeam. I have to keep going.” Spike said. He didn't know why or when it had become so important, but at this point he felt like he didn't have a choice. There was no going back: there was only going forward.

Moonbeam hissed through her teeth at him, but then she dropped her head and nodded with a curse. Spike smiled at her as reassuringly as he could, then he turned and took a breath, settling the pack on his back as he announced: “I'll go first.”

Saying it out loud didn't make it any easier or give him the resolve he hoped it would. Instead, he still wobbled in place for a few moments before he forced himself to head out to one of the fallen trees, grimacing a bit as he got down on all fours and crawled out over the wide surface. The bark was a little slippery, and he shivered as he made his way along the length before he gave in to the wicked temptation to shift slightly so he could look down-

It wasn't an endless chasm. There was a very clear, very solid end at the bottom of the gorge, and Spike gasped as he clung to the tree and gritted his teeth, before he grimaced when Moonbeam shouted behind him: “What are you doing?”

“N-Nothing. Just... don't look down and be careful. It's slippery.” Spike managed, and then he forced himself to crawl forwards another foot, even as his whole body trembled, and oh god, what if he fell? What if he slipped, what if the tree gave out, what if he fell and worst of all, what if he didn't die and instead he was left there, in pain, alone, dying alone until-

The tree shifted and creaked, and Spike gasped and flinched as he looked back over his shoulder to see Moonbeam was forcing herself out onto the bridge, the dragon almost screaming: “What are you doing?”

“Crossing.” Moonbeam muttered as she forced herself out onto the tree. Spike clutched helplessly into the bark of the makeshift bridge, hyperventilating as he felt the tree shift under their combined weight as Moonbeam slowly began to inch towards him.

“S-Stop! Stop!” Spike was panting, giving in to panic. God, why had he thought he could do this? He was stupid and he was panicking and he just had to be the big dragon, but no, he wasn't anything but a newt, but a-

“Move or I'll kick you off this tree.” Moonbeam muttered, and there was such a promise in that voice that it forced Spike to scrabble at the tree and jerk himself forwards, crawling as fast as he could to the other side before he flung himself off with a gasp, hitting the ground and rolling to a stop.

Less than a minute later, Moonbeam crawled carefully off the tree herself, breathing slowly and shaking herself out before she grimaced and looked down at Spike with contempt. Spike looked away, ashamed and rubbing at his teary eyes, before the mare said shortly: “Suck it up.”

“Why are you such a...” Spike stopped, then he caught himself before he could yell or scream or sob, and he instead took a rattling breath before he forced his trembling legs under him, glaring up at her before he nodded and said finally: “Let's... let's go.”

They turned and trudged onward, and Spike lowered his head and did his best to pretend Moonbeam wasn't there as he reflected on his failure. On how he had sworn he was going to be helpful, on how he thought he could just run off and help Marina, like this was some silly adventure...

He couldn't, could he? If there was a fight, he couldn't help. If the Diamond Dogs weren't like the tame pack outside of Ponyville, he couldn't help. If he had to cross another stupid gorge, he probably couldn't help. His first trial, and he had frozen up and nearly failed, and after all the pushing and prodding he had done to Moonbeam, after how he'd just about dragged her along on this stupid little game of his, that wasn't really a game at all...

He looked back at her, then he shamefully and hurriedly looked away when she looked up. And they trudged onwards in silence as Spike did his best to continue to follow Marina's trail, until the sun began to set, and darkness began to set in around them.

They were still in forest: it was a thinner, less-welcoming forest than the one they had been in before, though. The trees looked starved and sickly, and the branches were like grasping claws, reaching out as if for help, or to seize passersby and wring them of their fortune. But it was still confusing and dark enough that once the sun was gone, the moon and stars couldn't cast enough light to let them travel safely, let alone to allow Spike to continue to find the ever-fading trail of Marina.

“We're going to have to stop.” Spike said, and he hated admitting that. Doubly so because he knew Marina's trail would be cold by morning, and worse yet because he didn't know if he could find the way back to their campsite.

What had he done?

He shivered and shook his head, but to his surprise, Moonbeam only nodded and flicked her horn, and several small, silvery balls of light condensed around them, floating silently, like willowisps. Spike looked up at one of these, watching as it danced and swayed through the air above them, before he winced when Moonbeam nudged him and said shortly: “Set up camp. I hope you brought food and water. But don't start a fire.”

Spike nodded briefly, and then he threw off his pack and dug through it. He pulled out a canteen, and he hesitated for a moment before offering it first to Moonbeam, who took it with a grudging grunt and a short look over him.

He wondered silently what Marina was doing for food, as he passed some of what little they had left to Moonbeam, along with a blanket. She took both, eating the food in silence and wrapping herself in the blanket as Spike took the canteen back, but he only regarded it for a moment before starting to put it away-

“Don't get dehydrated. I don't want to carry you.” Moonbeam said, and Spike looked up at her. He didn't know what to say: he wanted to snap at her for being so disagreeable, but he couldn't help but notice that she was paying attention to him, too. Was that her way of showing, that somewhere in there, she cared?

He didn't have the energy to figure it out. So he only nodded, and drank a little water, before putting the canteen away and rolling out his bedroll. He sat for a few minutes, but then he simply pulled out his blanket and wrapped himself in it, and Moonbeam took that as her cue to dispel the light she had summoned, those embers of magic flickering out one after the other.

The temperature dropped quickly, and Spike hated that they didn't have a fire, or a tent, or anything to survive, and he hated himself for putting them in this situation. He guessed he was still a child: eternally a baby dragon.

Pathetic.

He almost wished they didn't find Marina. That they just stayed lost until Marina saved the day, and maybe then the ponies could find them, and they'd bring them back to Ponyville, and he'd remember his place from now on, he'd remember why they never let him grow up and why they never gave him responsibilities and how-

“Stop it.” Moonbeam muttered from across their little campsite, and Spike rose his head slightly, the tears on his cheeks gleaming in the little light that filtered down from the dismal sky above. “You're doing the same thing Marina always does. Doubting. Crying yourself to sleep. You're a loser. You're pathetic.”

“I know.” Spike whispered, trembling and looking away.

“Good. But you dragged us out here, too, and tomorrow you have a chance to not be so stupid.” Moonbeam said quietly, and Spike rose his head a little again, biting his lip. “Just find Marina. That's all I ask. Just... find Marina.”

“Yeah. I... I will.” Spike promised after a moment, and he closed his eyes as he settled down into his bedroll, feeling a turbulent storm twisting inside his stomach, unsure of what he could possibly do, but determined to somehow honor his promise.

Spike settled: in spite of his stress and anxiety, he was exhausted, and it was only a few minutes before he fell asleep. Moonbeam, on the other hoof, shifted silently before she sat up, pulling the blanket around herself and looking silently around through the darkness.

She would keep watch tonight while the dragon slept. She could catch an hour or so of sleep before dawn. It was better that way, anyway: this way, she avoided the nightmares. When she was awake, she could block most of them out, but when she slept, oh...

Moonbeam shook her head, then she silently looked at the little dragon, studying him for a few moments before she lowered her head with a sigh.

She hoped they would find Marina. She hoped they could find and save the girls. She hoped that nothing bad had happened, even if she could never express it.

Hope, after all, was for losers like Spike and Marina.

Bitter Hope

Chapter Five: Bitter Hope
~BlackRoseRaven

For the young mares, who were miserable but shielded from many of the frustrations of their situation by youthful exuberance and invincibility, the hardest part of the situation they were in was finding something to keep themselves occupied.

At first, of course, they all wanted to show each other how adult they were getting, so Apple Bloom identified trees and scavenged food, and Sweetie Belle made all sorts of little braids and trinkets, and Scootaloo pretended to smoke an unlit cigarette as she strutted around, talking loudly about adult things.

But that all got boring soon enough, and the girls didn't like doing things apart, anyway: they were here on this trip together, and this was perhaps their last big trip before they officially became mares. They weren't fillies by any stretch, really: they were in that awkward, crucial stage in-between, teenagers who were trying to settle into the weird and wonderful world they had been born into.

It felt like it was their 'last chance' to enjoy all the things they thought they'd have to leave behind once they were adults. They were all eager to grow up, and equally afraid of growing up at the same time, and so it was hard to resist when Sweetie had blurted out: “Let's play hide and seek!”

Scootaloo chuffled, but that only lasted until Apple Bloom had agreed. And then the two had taken off and left Sweetie to find them, the mare shouting after them in frustration before she diligently covered her face and grouchily counted to ten.

It hadn't taken her very long to find Scootaloo: the pegasus had gotten herself half-stuck in a log with her rump sticking out, so Sweetie had bounced over and drummed on her butt for a few moments before helping pull her out. Scootaloo had been thankful, until she realized this also meant that she had been caught, after which gratitude turned to a scowl.

Together, they had gone after Apple Bloom: they searched around and through the campsite, ignoring everyone else, then down another side trail that Scootaloo spotted, aimlessly hunting back and forth until they came across some rustling bushes, and Scootaloo had pounced-

It was a blur after that, but Sweetie Belle's mind had struggled to put it all into some sort of cohesive order, even though it seemed like everything had happened at once. Something had tackled her as that bush had almost exploded and an enormous Diamond Dog had leapt out, seizing Scootaloo. And they weren't like the Diamond Dogs around Ponyville, stupid, slobbering beasts: she remembered bloodshot eyes and lips drawn back from yellowed fangs and wiry, bunched muscle, and thick claws that nearly pierced Scootaloo's throat when they seized around it.

Scootaloo tried to struggle. Scootaloo was strong, Scootaloo could throw off a pony, Scootaloo was top of her class when it came to anything and everything physical, and Scootaloo was slammed down on her back like a toy all the same, because these Diamond Dogs weren't playing, and these Diamond Dogs weren't tame.

Apple Bloom had leapt out of somewhere, bow torn out of her hair, face splattered with mud, and she managed to slam a kick into the Diamond Dog's side and knock it staggering. But another dog had leapt out and grabbed her and thrown her into a tree, and Sweetie had started to scream, but the dog holding her had seized her by the face and all Sweetie could do was watching with teary eyes as two dogs jumped on Apple Bloom and shoved her down and the last had pinned Scootaloo, holding her by the face and the wing, making its threat so awfully clear...

Sweetie knew she should try and do something: bite or scream or fight or use her magic. But instead, all she had been able to do was cry and shut down, because she was terrified of being hurt, and because it already seemed so hopeless. Some strange part of her mind still struggled to keep track of everything, though, as if that would somehow make this whole thing make sense, as if that would provide some kind of escape.

There were five Diamond Dogs, and they were all large and mean and brutal. They weren't comical, and they didn't hesitate in the things they did: they ran through the forest as if they had somewhere to go, as if this had all been planned. The alpha never hesitated, barking commands at his... were they soldiers?

Sweetie didn't know. It was too hard to think about. All she was able to do was watch, because her eyes refused to closed, because as badly as she wanted to look away, she just couldn't.

The Diamond Dogs had been tireless, and carried their cargo with ease: the only time they stopped was to discipline Apple Bloom or Scootaloo when they struggled too much. Otherwise, they moved less like dogs and more like gorillas, carrying a pony across one shoulder and leaping through the forest on three legs, jumping fallen trees and gorges with equal ease, and god, there was something wrong with them, Sweetie realized with misery.

They were too focused. They ignored the brambles, the thatches they ran through; she swore that Apple Bloom must have broken the ribs of one of the dogs, but the injury didn't seem to be bothering it in the slightest.

The pack ran until the sun set, and as the light of day died, they had finally stopped. They were smart... no, that wasn't the right word. They had been trained very well, and during this first break, they fitted them with heavy yokes, and then bound these together, with loose, long chain.

It was smarter than the Diamond Dogs could have come up with on their own: sure, they could try and run, and the long chain even seemed like a benefit at first. But in a forest like this, a long chain would catch and snare on every branch and rock and bush, making it impossible for them to escape from the swift beasts.

The Diamond Dogs tied them each to a tree with splintered rope: it clearly wasn't meant to really hold them, but it would make it much harder for them to slip away without alerting the beasts. Meanwhile, the pack made a fire, and sat down to eat.

Sweetie Belle drew her eyes to her companions: Scootaloo was curled up and shaking, and Apple Bloom was laying on her belly, breathing hard, mane in her face, and all the work she put into her... herself, had been scrubbed and torn away. She looked beaten, in a word, and Sweetie knew it wasn't just the Diamond Dogs had thrown her around and pummeled her and bruised her, but because the armor she so carefully arranged around herself had been shattered, and the pony, the body she had been born into, had been left naked and vulnerable.

Sweetie bit her lip, then slipped a little closer to Apple Bloom, before wincing as the rope around her neck drew tight. One of the Diamond Dogs looked up immediately, and Sweetie shrank a little, fearful of what might come, but after a moment the beast carelessly turned his eyes back to the rest of his pack, going back to whatever they were growling about with each other.

Sweetie leaned down as close as she could to Apple Bloom, then asked the only question she could think to ask, in spite of how stupid it was: “Are you okay?”

Apple Bloom shivered a little, then she looked up after a moment before asking weakly: “Are you?”

“No.” Sweetie said honestly, before she looked over at Scootaloo. But after a moment, she decided it might be better to just leave the shuddering Scootaloo alone for now, instead turning her eyes back to Apple Bloom. “What happened?”

She realized after she blurted the question out that she really didn't know what had happened: one moment everything had been fine, the next they had been ambushed and kidnapped. But Apple Bloom only shook her head, murmuring: “I don't know. I just... I don't know. I was running down the path, and then the dogs came out of nowhere, and... and then everything happened.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Apple Bloom shook her head before she looked down and murmured: “I hope the others are okay. I hope nothing happened to Spike or Moonbeam.”

“What about Marina?” asked Sweetie, and Apple Bloom smiled a little.

“If they had come across Marina, I know she would have clobbered them.” Apple Bloom said with a strange confidence. “She's real strong. And... and I know she's going to find us and help us.”

“You like her a lot, huh?” Sweetie Belle asked, and Apple Bloom nodded before her eyes shifted down, and she went strangely quiet for a few moments.

Sweetie Belle let the silence play out, until Apple Bloom murmured: “She's like me. And she's like what I want to be. Not just a mare... strong.”

“Strong.” Sweetie echoed, and then she gave a small smile, saying quietly: “I think you're already pretty strong, Apple Bloom.”

Apple Bloom laughed a little at this, smiling briefly up at Sweetie before she shook her head and closed her eyes. She breathed softly, then shivered a bit, and Sweetie frowned as her eyes drew along her, noting the bruises, the scratches, the way her leg kept twitching... “Are you okay?”

The second time she'd asked that question, and it was no less stupid than the first. But Apple Bloom only nodded a little, murmuring: “Yeah. I just... I think it's more shock than anything else. Stuff like this, I just... it's not supposed to happen like this, you know? It's just not supposed to happen.”

“But it did.” muttered Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle smiled faintly in spite of the bitterness of the pegasus' voice: at least she was back with them instead of... wherever she'd been lost. “It did and now we're stuck here and this... this sucks. This sucks and we can't do anything, we can't do a thing!”

Her voice rose slightly, and Sweetie winced as she looked in the direction of the Diamond Dogs, but they barely looked up at them. It was like they didn't care: how had they gone from pushing so hard, moving so professionally, for lack of a better word, to so... careless?

Sweetie thought she knew, though, as she shivered a bit before leaning down and whispering: “Quiet. I... I think there's something weird about those guys.”

“I don't care.” Scootaloo muttered, but her movements were lethargic and the anger was dying out of her eyes and voice, the young mare's eyes shifting away. “It doesn't matter now, does it? We're screwed.”

“Someone's gotta help us.” Sweetie Belle said anxiously, but then she forcefully clamped down on herself before she could spiral out of control: it took every fiber of her being to fight it, but now wasn't the time to cry or be dramatic as she took a breath before saying in a firmer voice: “No, we need to... we need to figure out what's going on. If we don't know what's going on then we really are... hopeless.”

“It's already hopeless.” Scootaloo mumbled as she pawed at the earth, but her eye shifted a little all the same, and even if the only thing Sweetie had was her attention, that was all she wanted right now.

Apple Bloom looked up with a frown as well, and Sweetie bit her lip: now what? But in the same way her mind had arranged what had happened, the same way she had noticed all those strange little details in the Diamond Dogs, Sweetie felt her mind trying to figure out the right things to say as she muttered: “It's not hopeless. It's... they grabbed us and they immediately ran. They ran really fast. They don't want to be caught. And now they've stopped here and they're completely different.”

Sweetie looked over at the Diamond Dogs: they had settled down now, and it looked like two of them had already fallen asleep, and one of them was chewing on a bone. One had vanished, and the last one was the only one who was alert, his ears moving back and forth as he watched the darkness, his eyes reflecting the firelight-

No, they were glowing. Why were his eyes glowing? Sweetie shivered a little, and then she looked over at Apple Bloom, asking uneasily: “Do you see that?”

Apple Bloom looked up, and then she frowned after a moment before she shivered a bit as the Diamond Dog looked back over his shoulder at them, his eyes gleaming unnaturally. “W-What... what do you think it means?”

“I don't... something can't be controlling them, right?” Sweetie wondered aloud: no, that didn't make any sense. If something was controlling them, then why would it let them stop and rest for the night? Why would they be back to acting more like how she imagined Diamond Dogs acted instead of like-

“Hey! Who the hell do you guys work for?” shouted Scootaloo suddenly, leaping to her hooves, and Sweetie winced as Apple Bloom stared in disbelief.

The Diamond Dogs flinched, one of them snapping awake and the guard snarling in their direction. Scootaloo glared defiantly back: that was, until a paw grabbed the back of her head and slammed her, face-first down into the ground, a Diamond Dog that had materialized behind her from the forest growling low in his throat: “Not for you to know, pony. But you find out, very soon.”

Scootaloo shivered and grit her teeth, but she did her best not to fight back as the Diamond Dog's fingers almost caressed her mane as they drew back, before he snorted and stepped over her, striding away with a load of wood under his other arm. They watched as he left, before Apple Bloom gave a faint laugh, then she said weakly: “Good work.”

Sweetie blinked, and Scootaloo gave a weak grin and a small shrug before it clicked in the unicorn's mind: of course. “But... who has the power to... are they getting instructions?”

“Maybe not. Maybe they just... they've been told precisely what they were supposed to do.” Apple Bloom said slowly, raising her head uncertainly to look in the direction of the Diamond Dogs, who had already gone back to relaxing and ignoring them: they were careless indeed. They were nothing like they had been during the journey, or just after it when they had set up camp: were they going to go back to being that way when the sun rose, and they continued to follow whatever mysterious orders that had been drilled into their minds?

But that brought another question to her mind: was capturing them, specifically, one of the orders they had been given? Somehow, that seemed even more important than who it was they were being brought to...

Sweetie looked nervously at the Diamond Dogs, studying them: four who were cruel and large and brutal and stupid, and one who had brightly glowing eyes, searching the night constantly, as if he had unlimited attention, as if he would never tire while he was on duty.

The others didn't speak: no one knew what to say now. All they could do was try and figure out what was going on, and that seemed impossible with the precious little information they had.

Sweetie didn't sleep, even though Apple Bloom and Scootaloo drifted now and then, or turned away to try and find some quiet sanctuary in their own minds. Sweetie could only watch the Diamond Dogs, studying them, watching the way the acted, and how every few hours, that eerie green glow would blink suddenly out of the eyes of whoever was standing guard while the others slept, and he would almost topple to the ground, as the glow blossomed in another's eyes,the Diamond Dog snapping awake and immediately going to guard duty as if he had been waiting for the chance, instead of snoring the night away.

And when morning came, the Diamond Dogs leapt to their paws, and the biggest, meanest of the lot came towards the ponies, snarling: “Wake up! No rest today, ponies, today you walk. Now walk!”

He pointed sharply forward, and Sweetie opened her mouth-

The Diamond Dog slapped her cruelly across the face, Sweetie gasping, and Scootaloo and Apple Bloom leapt up on either side of her, snarling. But the Diamond Dog only grinned, and Sweetie trembled before she suddenly gritted her teeth, then looked up through her curls at the Diamond Dog's glowing eyes, saying quietly: “I was going to ask which way. You... idiot.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo both stared at Sweetie, but the Diamond Dog only snorted before he grabbed the unicorn by the horn, forcefully twisting her head around, saying distastefully: “That way, pony. Walk. And no try anything funny, or we will hurt you.”

Sweetie rose her head and turned sharply away, and her friends followed after a moment, both glaring over their shoulders at the Diamond Dog as he marshaled his pack.

But Sweetie didn't look back now, even as the dogs barked and bit at their heels to try and rush them on, the young mare lowering her head and squaring her shoulders as they pushed onward through the forest, determined not to let them see her tears, and that she would figure this out.

She wasn't going to just keep crying. She wasn't going to fail her friends again.

Spike was up before the sunrise, and he had the campsite cleaned and packed up before Moonbeam was completely awake. The mare didn't seem happy about it, but she didn't protest, either, although she didn't go with the flow as much as allowed herself to be dragged behind Spike's momentum.

Spike was silent as he tried to remember which way they had been going. He couldn't hide his trembles as he almost fearfully searched the brambles and the bushes: here was where they had entered the clearing, but where had Marina and the Diamond Dogs left? God, he was so stupid to have thought that-

There.

Spike sighed in relief as his eyes locked on a distinct ruffle in the wall of green around them: when he walked over to inspect it closer, he found a patch of muck with a smudged imprint of a paw. A very large paw, Spike realized after a moment, shivering a bit as he shifted uneasily: how big were these Diamond Dogs?

Moonbeam walked up behind him, then she looked down at the pawprint before she scowled a little, saying: “We should just go home. Marina can take care of herself. Marina got herself into this mess and she can take care of it.”

“I'm not leaving her or the fillies behind.” Spike murmured, and then he shook his head briefly before he took a slow breath. “Let's... let's go.”

Moonbeam sighed, but when Spike started forward, she followed. For an hour or so, they walked in silence, Spike pausing every few minutes to make sure they were on the right path, but never having much trouble finding a sign: the one positive thing about how fast the Diamond Dogs had moved was that they had left a lot of signs behind, and here and there they could see the marks of Marina's passage, too.

He hoped she was okay. He wondered if she had stopped for the night, too: he wondered how far ahead of them the Diamond Dogs had to be.

“You're slowing us down. They're heading in a straight line.” Moonbeam interrupted Spike's thoughts, and the dragon blinked and looked back at her in surprise, but then winced when she glared and gestured shortly ahead. “Stop staring. Keep moving.”

“What do you think they're doing?” Spike asked, and Moonbeam gave a short laugh.

“Trying to get as far away as possible.” shrugged the mare. “Maybe they're heading towards wherever they're supposed to be going. Maybe they were just running away. We're never going to catch up to them, though, Spike.”

“We just... have to keep moving, and hope for the best.” Spike argued, and he grimaced as he looked forwards, picking up the pace a little.

Moonbeam growled under her breath, stumbling a little behind him before she snapped: “This is useless and stupid! You can't do anything!”

“You're... you're useless and stupid!” Spike suddenly exploded, stumbling around in a circle and glaring at Moonbeam, and he felt tears fill his eyes as the pony reared back in surprise. “I can do this! I'm going to do this, and... and you're more than welcome to leave at any time Moonbeam, because I don't need your 'help!'”

Spike breathed hard in and out, trembling a little, and Moonbeam looked away. There was silence for a few moments, and then Spike spun around, dropping his head, knowing he should apologize as the adrenaline passed: not because he was really sorry, but because the ponies, the ponies always blamed him and it was always his fault even if Pinkie Pie walked right into him or Twilight hid the book somewhere else or- “I'm sorry.”

Spike glanced up, but he only stared straight ahead as Moonbeam murmured: “I don't... I just want to... look, I'm scared, okay? And that comes out as anger. Everything... everything always comes out as anger. But I'm a coward, Spike. I'm not like Marina. I'm not like you...”

Spike laughed a little, then he shook his head before he closed his eyes, wiping at his face as he murmured: “I'm scared too. I'm not dumb. I don't know what we can possibly do to help. All I know is that... we have to do something.”

“Getting help would be doing something.” Moonbeam argued, but she followed when Spike started forward.

The dragon shook his head with a small smile, saying finally: “And that wouldn't be any help at all. We'd probably have gotten lost finding the ranger, or finding help, and... well...”

He halted, shaking his head briefly before he gave a small sigh, murmuring: “They'd want to scour the forest, and the Diamond Dogs would have gotten away. If worst comes to worst, I can send a letter to Twilight or Celestia for help.”

“I don't see why we're not doing that now.” Moonbeam muttered.

Spike hesitated, and then he looked down and murmured in response: “Our problems aren't as big as theirs.”

Moonbeam scowled at this, but Spike only shook his head before he said softly: “They have the entire kingdom to think about. There's something going on right now that was important enough Twilight got called away for it. They're important and we're not. We're the secondary characters, Moonbeam, and I know that's hard and hurts to think about, but-”

“I know. Believe me, I know.” Moonbeam said bitterly. “That's why they left me, for months, in a tube, being slowly eaten from the inside out by Changelings. It took a Changeling to save me. I've never forgotten that.”

Spike didn't say anything, and Moonbeam fell silent as well. There was no real end to their conversation or their argument: things just shifted back into silence, and they continued forward, Spike trying to focus more on the path ahead and Moonbeam, to her credit, being a bit more quiet, if not more helpful.

Spike couldn't help but notice that the further they walked, the more the forest seemed to be... dying, for lack of a better word. There were plenty of trees, but they seemed to be getting more stunted, more warped and scraggly... although that only made the path they were following all the more confusing.

The little dragon grimaced as he pushed around a tangle of bush, feeling thorny vines nip at his scales and try to drag his bag away. His eyes traced the path ahead before they sharpened suddenly, and he pointed quickly, blurting: “Look, there!”

Moonbeam frowned, but her own eyes widened slightly as they caught on the disturbed clearing ahead. They skidded to a stop by the remains of a campfire, and Moonbeam scowled as she muttered: “I can't tell-”

“They must have left here at dawn.” Spike murmured as he held a claw down over the fire, feeling the weak warmth from the buried embers. “It's been hours. They spent the night here... and there must be a whole pack, too, look at all the pawprints and how they scraped up the ground to make themselves little... there!”

Spike suddenly turned and hurried, and the mare frowned as she followed him a short distance away, where Spike was studying several over disturbances in the earth: disturbances pockmarked by hooves.

Spike carefully picked up a few tangled strings of hair, studying the bright red of Apple Bloom's mane silently. “They were definitely here. I don't see any blood, at least... but I think there might have still been a scuffle. I'm... I thought I'd be happy to see that, but...”

“Fighting will just make it worse.” Moonbeam muttered, and then she shook her head shortly before her eyes lowered to the ground. “They pretty clearly went this way.”

“Yeah.” Spike looked down, studying the clear prints in the earth before he added: “It looks like they're walking now. We might actually stand a chance of catching up to them, and Marina-”

“Marina definitely will. Then we should hurry.” Moonbeam said brusquely, and Spike blinked at the change in her demeanor before the mare leapt past him, stumbling a little but picking up her pace as she hurried in the direction the Diamond Dogs had gone with their hostages.

Now it was Spike who was lagging behind as Moonbeam ran through the underbrush, the little dragon wincing and running as fast as he could with all the gear he was carrying: but at the same time, he didn't want to shout at her to slow down or to let him catch up, because he thought that might undo whatever strange impulse had come over the mare.

It didn't take very long for Moonbeam to slow, though, the mare panting hard and trembling a bit as her pace stumbled down to a walk. Spike nervously hurried up beside her, opening his mouth to suggest a break, but the mare only glared at him before she looked ahead, saying through sharp breaths: “We just... we just need... to keep going.”

“Yeah.” Spike said, grimacing a bit as he rubbed at his chest, before he added: “You should eat something, though, or-”

“No. I'm fine.” Moonbeam muttered, and Spike looked awkwardly away.

“An army marches on its stomach.” he said, repeating something Twilight had said to him more than once.

Moonbeam laughed shortly, then she answered: “It's a good thing I'm not a soldier, then.”

Spike didn't have a response to that: how could he, anyway, when all he was doing was repeating things that ponies had randomly said at some point?

So instead of saying something else that the ponies had always told him and reminded him of, he bit his lip before asking: “What should we do when we catch up to them?”

“We find Marina.” Moonbeam said without hesitation, and Spike smiled a bit at this before he lowered his head in thought.

“Maybe if she causes a distraction, we can get the girls out of there.” Spike said, and Moonbeam scowled at him.

“And then what?” she asked grouchily, but Spike only shrugged a bit: he wanted to say 'well, and then we run away,' but he knew that wasn't really an option: the Diamond Dogs were much faster than them and far better trackers, and it was unlikely that they'd be able to escape with the fillies without a fight.

“Six are better than one.” Spike said finally, and Moonbeam frowned at him in surprise. “We... if we work together, we might be able to scare off the Diamond Dogs.”

“As if those fillies are going to be ready and able to fight.” muttered Moonbeam, before she looked away and added quietly, in a voice Spike almost couldn't hear: “As if we can fight.”

“Maybe we can't. Maybe we can't fight fight. But we might be able to scare them off, all the same.” Spike said firmly, and Moonbeam frowned at this as she turned her eyes curiously towards Spike. “I'm a dragon. You're a unicorn. I can breathe fire and you can flash some magic. They're not smart, they're Diamond Dogs.”

“So your entire plan is 'scare them off?'” Moonbeam asked, but she sounded more dubious than anything else. Considering her usual tone with him, Spike considered that a good thing.

“Pretty much.” he admitted. “There's not much we can do otherwise. But I don't want to leave Marina to fight them all off by herself. Maybe if we can even offer a distraction, it'll be enough to turn the tables, you know?”

Spike nodded to himself, and Moonbeam scowled, but didn't reply as she instead turned her eyes ahead. And for a little while, the two continued on in silence, traveling quickly through the underbrush before Moonbeam bit her lip as the changes in the world around them became too obvious to ignore. “Spike...”

Spike only nodded as he looked back and forth uneasily himself: the forest was dying around them. The trees were thinning, and they were mostly dead, with only a few patches of green here and there. Thick weeds and patches of tall, thorny grasses dotted the landscape, making it hard to see, and the ground was loose and gravelly, not arid, but... rotten.

All the same, they pressed onward: the Diamond Dogs had been going in roughly the same direction, so that was the direction they tried to continue, moving from landmark to landmark. Every so often, they found a trace that told them they were on the right path: hoofprints, pawprints, here and there scraps of mane or other signs of passage.

But Spike was starting to wonder if they were ever going to catch up: they had been following for hours now, and they didn't seem any closer. And where was Marina? He understood them still being behind, even if the Diamond Dogs had slowed down, but Marina was tireless. Was she maybe shadowing them? Or had something happened to her? They hadn't seen any signs of a scuffle, but...

“Spike.” Moonbeam whispered, and Spike glanced up before he froze as something stirred through the tall grasses nearby.

Spike watched uneasily as the patch of vegetation shifted even as he tried to find the courage to say it was probably nothing, before he flinched as he heard something behind them. He turned around, and flinched as something large vanished into another patch of grasses, watching them silently.

Moonbeam's horn began to glow as she began to take short, frightened breaths, and Spike bit his lip before he reached out and grasped her shoulder, shaking her once to try and get her attention before he started: “Let's try and-”

Moonbeam snapped her horn down, and Spike flinched and swore, blinded by the bright flash of magic. But he still watched in shock as a Changeling leapt out of the vegetation in surprise, the creature hissing in pain before it pointed at them and screamed: “Get the intruders!”

Moonbeam screamed as Changelings erupted out of the vegetation on all sides of them, and Spike gritted his teeth as he tried to steady himself, his mind processing what was happening even as his body struggled to react.

He did the only thing he could think of: he leapt up onto Moonbeam, two Changelings uselessly crashing to the ground behind him, and he swung his backpack out and smacked another Changeling across the face before he spat out a blast of flame on wild impulse.

The flames flashed over the vegetation, and the dry weeds burst into flames, the Changelings scattering away from the fire with hisses and yells as Moonbeam leapt forwards with a whinny of fear, charging through the dying forest.

Spike clung to Moonbeam's mane, then he risked a look back: he saw the Changelings were already recovering, already shooting after them, running and flying and charging their foul Changeling magic-

Spike looked back forward, and he saw the tree branch a moment too late to do anything before it slammed into his face and knocked him off Moonbeam.

The little dragon hit the ground hard, groaning in pain, struggling to stay conscious: there was a thudding in his head, but it wasn't the thudding of hooves. He was able to raises his head enough to watch with bleary eyes as Moonbeam vanished through another patch of tall grass, right before dark and alien shapes surrounded him as he fell back down.

Green light suffused his vision momentarily before it all went black, and Spike knew no more.

Two Roads Diverged

Chapter Six: Two Roads Diverged
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike blinked a few times before his eyes slowly opened. The air was humid and his body felt slick, like he had been sweating. But wait, how could he be sweating? And why was everything so dim?

Where was he? Where was Moonbeam?

He tried to sit up, and he couldn't. He panicked for a moment, gasping and struggling, but then groaned and settled when his head gave a throb of pain, wincing a bit before he managed to look down at himself, even as he uselessly pulled against whatever was restraining his arms and legs in the slumped sitting position he was in.

Some kind of goo had been smeared over him. He grimaced in disgust at the sight of it before he rose his head, vaguely remembering what had happened as he blinked a few times to try and get the blurriness out of his vision.

They had been attacked. He had hit a branch; or well, the branch had hit him. The Changelings... but he thought they'd been tracking Diamond Dogs!

Were the Diamond Dogs and the Changelings working together? Or had this just been some freak encounter?

Where was Marina?

Spike grimaced and shook himself out, then he took a slow breath and forced himself to look around as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the world around him. Even if he couldn't see, the smells, the almost-taste that infiltrated his mouth told him that he was underground: this was some kind of burrow, a crude cell dug out of the earth, lit faintly from the spill of light that fell in from the sole entrance.

There was no door: just a hole in the wall that led down what looked like a cramped passage. Spike looked at this for a moment, then grimaced as he flexed and uselessly tugged against the slimy bonds restraining him.

They were still wet on the outside, but hardening on the inside, like drying cement. He could wiggle ever so slightly, but he didn't think he could actually yank himself loose: not even if he used all his strength.

He bit his lip and struggled again in spite of himself: even knowing what he did, well... it was hard to stop from wiggling at least a little. He looked back down at the slime, studying it intently for a few moments as a few possible solutions went through his mind, but the only one that seemed likely...

Spike steeled himself, and then he took a slow inhale before he grimaced as his mind betrayed him, hissing that there was no way he could do it. He coughed, and a bit of harmless green flame came out of his jaws instead of the focused fire he needed right now.

It probably wouldn't work anyway. It didn't matter that the ponies had kept him small, kept him from becoming strong, that his teeth were dull from eating nothing but gemstones and pony food and his claws were manicured: what was a dragon without his breath? What was he, really?

A lizard. A little lizard, stuck in a bug's web.

He closed his eyes and willed those thoughts away. They weren't helpful.

He tried again, and magical flame came out and uselessly caressed the slime. Spike grimaced and cursed under his breath as some of the looser ooze vanished, feeling a sting of embarrassment: either Twilight or Celestia was going to get an odd gift in the mail.

No, no time to think about that. Besides, maybe it would tell them they were in trouble and... he couldn't handle this alone. He needed help.

He'd been stupid to think he wouldn't need help.

Spike banished those thoughts after a moment, then he took another breath, forcing himself to focus before he leaned down and breathed out a small flame, as concentrated as he could make it, across the slime.

It seared some of the ooze away, but not nearly enough, and Spike grimaced as he felt the heat radiating through the slime, like it was trying to disperse it. He tried to focus on bearing down, making the flame a point, trying to cut with it-

He coughed, and the flame belched out across the slime, making it bubble and boil for a moment, then only harden. Bits and pieces of now brittle ooze pebbled down, and Spike wheezed a little as he spat several times, trying to clear the burning sensation and acrid taste out of his mouth.

The little dragon snuffled a little, then sneezed out smoke before he tried to wipe at his face... but of course he couldn't, because he was still trapped, and helpless. He cursed under his breath, looking down at the hardened ooze: some of it he'd burned away, some of it had become brittle and crumbly, but it felt almost like he had made it worse: the slime sleeve coating his body had just hardened under the outer coating, and he didn't have the stamina to keep hacking away at it with his fire breath.

Spike swore quietly, then he dropped his head. What could he do now? Hope that someone else showed up to save him? Pathetically, that seemed like his only option.

Pathetic. That was what he was.

Spike clenched his eyes shut, trembling for a moment, and then he shook his head quickly, muttering: “Stop it. Stop, come on, there has to be something you can do here...”

He forced himself to open his eyes and look down at what he could see, if only to distract himself, to give himself a second's more hope. But the damage his fire had done wasn't enough. His fire had just made it worse, and if anything it seemed like his magic breath had made more of it vanish-

Spike blinked, then stared for a moment before he wondered if that was the answer: while he couldn't 'deliver' more than a small package, 'sending' objects, on the other hand, was something he'd gotten quite a lot of practice in.

The dragon bit his lip, then he decided that either way, it wouldn't matter: he would escape or not, and he could worry about what Celestia or Twilight thought of whatever he accidentally dropped on them later.

But he hesitated, and trembled for a moment, because he was afraid. He was afraid of failing, and almost as afraid of succeeding, because what was he going to do even if he did free himself?

No. That was stupid. He couldn't get caught up in that.

He breathed slowly, then he forced himself to focus before he leaned over and breathed out green fire across the cracked sleeve covering his body. The fire danced and sparkled, gleaming over the hardened slime, consuming it in whirls and flashes of emerald.

A faintly-smoldering crater was left behind, and Spike wheezed out his breath before he gave an awkward smile. It hadn't been as much as he'd hoped, but the shell was indeed broken up enough that his magic could displace it.

It wasn't enough yet, but Spike concentrated and instead focused his fire breath, cutting carefully through more of the slimy shell, breaking the brittle cocoon up further. That was followed by another exhale of magic, sending more of the cocoon who-knew-where, and then another short burst of flame.

His mouth hurt. He felt light-headed and like he was going to throw up. But he forced himself to keep going, to keep weakening and loosening the cocoon until, finally, he was able to slowly and painfully tear one of his arms free with a gasp from the inner sleeve. He hung for a few moments like that, breathing hard, claw twitching at the end of his limb as he let the whirl in his head settle.

He blinked a few times, then spat to the side before he finally straightened. He flexed his now-free claw a few times, then pushed at the brittle edge of the cocoon: it cracked easily from external pressure, and within only a minute or so, Spike was able to finally flop loose and free from the prison, grimacing as he wiped slime from his scales before he picked himself shakily up and muttered: “Okay. What now?”

Well, there wasn't a whole lot of choice, was there? He was in a dirt cell, and the only way in or out was the tunnel in front of him. He didn't let himself stop to think, carefully moving forwards to the end of the passage before he bit his lip as he leaned out, biting his lip nervously as he found himself in another, wider tunnel, this one lit by glowing gemstones placed every so often along the ceiling and walls at seemingly-random intervals.

There were a few other holes in the wall here: he snuck down one of these tunnels and found himself in what seemed like another empty cell. He studied this for a moment, then made his way back out, silently sliding his claw along the dirt passage: it felt familiar. And now that he had time to think...

Diamond Dogs dug out burrows like this, didn't they? And Changelings trapped their victims in cocoons, although he had no idea why his had been different. Had they had plans for him, maybe, other than feeding on him?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He made his way down the larger tunnel, and was somehow unsurprised to find it connected to a fork: this burrow was likely to be nothing but a labyrinth of passages, and he was just going to have to wander until he found something... or something found him, as the case could be.

“Go right.” Spike muttered: that was the first rule of a maze, wasn't it? Choose one direction and just keep taking turns until you hit a dead end. Then backtrack until you reached a different turn, and repeat the process.

It wasn't ideal, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Spike turned right at the fork, and was almost immediately confronted with a dead end. He scowled in disgust and turned around, heading in the opposite direction until he reached an offshoot.

He peeked around this, and frowned as he saw it was dark: he thought he could hear noises, however, coming from down the tunnel. But that didn't make a lot of sense: why would there be noise but no light?

Spike lingered for a moment, then carefully slipped into the tunnel. He stuck close to the walls as he made his way down, nervous: what if there were worse things than Diamond Dogs lingering in these tunnels?

Soon, the tunnel opened up into a larger space, and Spike frowned as he realized there were lantern lights at the end of this cavern. And working by lantern, he could see several Diamond Dogs, grumbling and huffing as they tore at the walls.

By the dim light of the lanterns, Spike could also see building materials and other supplies: brick and wood, barrels and crates, the distinct tint and outline of beams that had been added to the wall here and there. The dragon was tempted to creep closer, but then a shift in the shadows made him draw quickly back, trembling a little as he saw green eyes flash in the darkness, looking back and forth.

The eyes seemed to look right at him for a moment before they were drawn towards the Diamond Dogs when one of them clanged its claws into something with a yelp, and the Changeling buzzed into the dim light with a scowl, looking down at the Diamond Dog nursing its injured paw as the other complained: “Too many big rocks!”

The Changeling grumbled, then zapped the injured Diamond Dog: but to Spike's surprise, the Diamond Dog didn't flinch or whine, but instead gave a sigh of relief, shaking his paw out before he apologized: “We do better.”

“Go back to work.” the Changeling said, but his tone wasn't really what Spike had expected either: he sounded awkward, not angry or annoyed. Spike studied it, watching as the Changeling flitted off to its perch in the darkness.

Spike didn't linger: he shifted backwards and carefully made his way back to the mouth of the dark tunnel. He grimaced and crouched, making himself as small as possible against the dirt wall as he heard movement and voices, however, and a few moments later, a massive Diamond Dog and two Changelings in armor walked by, likely heading in the direction of his cell. And they didn't sound very happy, either.

“-after we finish this interrogation. Then we need your drones to expand our food storage again. The four new ponies we've added have made it cramped.” said one of the Changelings, and Spike's eyes widened in surprise.

The Diamond Dog snorted, then answered contemptibly: “Not drones, but pack. Even if lesser, still pack. We rush enough. No more rushing.”

“You will do as...” the other Changeling started, and then it flinched when the Diamond Dog carelessly swung a front limb out and knocked him into the wall. The little procession stopped, and Spike winced as he scurried to the other side of the tunnel and pressed into a niche in the wall to avoid being seen.

He could hear them shift, and there was a palpable enmity in the air. But then there was a snort, and when Spike peeked around the corner, he saw the Diamond Dog was moving on and the Changelings were grouchily following.

He bit his lip, studying their retreating backs for a few moments, and then he shook his head and turned away, anxiously hurrying down the way they had come. Now he was in trouble: once they found out that he had escaped, they'd start scouring this burrow for him, and there was nothing he could do-

No, no, there was always something! Spike cursed under his breath as he took turns on wild hunches more than strategy now, and he was only glad this place seemed empty: he guessed that the Changelings had to be in some other section, and the Diamond Dogs were all busy digging new tunnels, it sounded like, and expanding these burrows and generally-

A howl faintly reached Spike's ears, but it was immediately amplified by several more dogs that joined in: he guessed that was an alarm. The little dragon skidded around a corner, then winced and threw himself into a dark tunnel, scuttling into a hollow beneath a large rock.

He was lucky: only a few moments later, a Diamond Dog tromped past, and he heard the buzz of Changelings as well. He had no idea where they were going, and even less idea what he should do: if he stayed here, they'd probably eventually sniff him out. But if he moved, he'd definitely be caught, and a lot sooner, too!

The little dragon shivered for a moment, then winced as he heard something else storm past. He didn't know why, but the sound of something else rushing by made him suddenly far more afraid of sitting here and being caught than doing nothing, so he shoved himself free, tossing a fearful look over his shoulder before he hurried down the dirt hall in the direction the dogs and Changelings had come from: if everyone was going that way, well, it only made sense to try and run in the opposite direction, right?

God, he had no idea what he was doing.

He turned a corner and staggered into an open room, staring around the dirt cavern in surprise before he flung himself to the side, landing with a flump behind a pile of bricks as several Diamond Dogs started to look towards him. He cursed his luck as he heard one of them growl at him, crawling quickly away as he desperately looked for a hiding place-

There!

The little dragon skittered into an overturned barrel, holding his breath as if that would help him not make any noise: he clenched his eyes shut and tucked his limbs and tail in as tightly as he could, staring out the open end of the barrel and watching as the Diamond Dog prowled by.

It began to lean down, and Spike flinched before he had to hold in a sigh of relief when someone snapped: “Hey! I can't hold this all day!”

“Coming, coming.” grumbled the Diamond Dog, and Spike slowly exhaled as the canine left, grumbling the whole time.

Spike waited a few moments before he allowed his body to uncurl, laying back in the barrel for a moment before he carefully wiggled his way out, doing his best not to make any noise. He bit his lip as he stood up enough to peer past the pile of supplies, nervously studying the Diamond Dogs working away at the cavern wall.

They had built some kind of support system, and now it looked like they were bricking it over... was this going to be some kind of underground castle, or a fortress? Was that why there were Changeling soldiers here? Maybe that also explained why he had seen that large, mean-looking Diamond Dog...

Spike chewed on his lip, but then he shook his head and turned himself away from the distraction. He had to try and find the others, and Marina.

Where was Marina? But no, Spike forced those thoughts away too before they could get started as he snuck his way towards another tunnel. He slipped down it, then grimaced as he saw a Diamond Dog turn the corner ahead: thankfully, walking away from him, not towards him. But it still worried him: there was a lot more activity here than he had anticipated.

Spike leaned around the corner of the tunnel, looking in the direction the Diamond Dog had gone, and he grimaced as he saw a large, open room beyond filled with grumbling canines. It looked like a massive den of some kind: a roughshod barracks, maybe?

Spike bit his lip, then he looked over his shoulder, down the other passage: it looked wide and kind of fancy, with a few unevenly-spaced pillars and half-constructed walls. But like everything else he had seen, it was unfinished: why was everything in a state of half-repair?

He nervously made his way down this hall, keeping close to the side and resisting the urge to look back at the Diamond Dog den: if he looked back, he'd be more likely to miss anyone ahead of him, and that was a lot more worrisome than some half-asleep canine looking up and seeing some purple shape in the hallway. He was careful to move around the pillars, using them for cover as much as possible, and he couldn't help but notice that some of these structures actually seemed older, as if they had been here for years and years...

The hallway gently curved, and Spike slipped across it to peer around the edge of the turn before he shivered in surprise as he found himself staring out into a massive cavern beyond, filled with ruins. His eyes roved back and forth in amazement: it looked like it had once been some kind of underground castle or city, but most of it had collapsed, and there were weird gray walls and helixes hanging from the ceiling. They looked familiar, but they were so large that it took Spike a moment to realize what they reminded him of.

Wasp nests. They looked like that after they had died and been abandoned. Spike shivered a little as he slipped out of the cave mouth and into the cavern, crouching on the rocky, jagged slope leading down towards the ruins as his eyes roved back and forth with awe; because as terrifying as this was, it was beautiful, too.

His worries were confirmed as he saw several Changelings buzz up from the temple towards the ceiling, and Spike nervously watched this group until they vanished behind a fold of decaying nest.

Was this an old hive, then? Were the Changelings trying to bring it back to life? And the Diamond Dogs had clearly been adding to it...

That reminded him that he didn't have the time to dally. He shook himself quickly out, then took a breath before he bit his lip and began to hurry down to the ruins of the castle, trembling with fear but making himself move as quickly and safely as his shaking claws would allow.

There was only one obvious place to go. And so, even if he knew it was going to end badly, he was going to go there.

He wasn't going to let fear win and fail these ponies again, when he could still do something to fix this.

Marina grimaced as she hid for a moment in the underbrush, suffocating her magic as much as possible as Changelings buzzed by above: soldiers, she noted, not just drones. These searched for a few moments before they turned around and returned to the mound of ruins they had come from.

Marina wasn't sure if it was a natural or artificial structure ahead: maybe it had once been a hilltop or a mound of some kind, but now it looked like it had been hollowed out into some sort of hive-like structure. Marina had seen these 'bases' before, but they weren't usually so busy: she could sense dozens of Changelings inside, and there were Diamond Dogs patrolling the outskirts as well.

If she had only been a little faster, she might have been able to catch the Diamond Dogs before they had met up with a patrol of Changelings... but once she had seen the Changelings, she had known that as badly as she wanted to save those poor ponies, she had no choice but to be quiet, and tail the Diamond Dogs instead of risking fighting them. They were being watched now, after all.

And now, here she was, outside of a nest in a barren tundra, hiding in the tall grasses and only hoping that she wouldn't be seen. This whole hillside was probably hollow, and she could sense a strange familiarity beneath her: a pulse, like the pulse the Hive had, but weaker.

Were they trying to move the Hive? Was that what this was, some desperate gamble to bring their Hive closer to the food source? But that was madness: without a proper way to move hive nodes and larva, they would severely deplete the Hive's love stores in transport and they would face starvation...

Unless... but no. That would mean war!

Marina shivered as she watched a Diamond Dog trudge by, dressed in ill-fitting armor and dragging a cudgel with it. Maybe not war, precisely, but close enough: Diamond Dog raiders were crude but effective, and Marina knew they had been used in the past by the Hive. But that had been long ago: she only knew about it because those tenuous treaties they had always held with the canines were an important part of the Hive's history.

There were a lot of reasons they didn't use Diamond Dogs, after all: they were rough, they were violent, their tactics often drew unnecessary attention, and the canines were known to help themselves to the 'leftovers.' Changelings had long ago given up brutal, war-like tactics for more clandestine operations for a good reason, after all: they simply weren't built for out-and-out combat, aside from the Queensguard.

But in the past, crueler Queens had used the sheer numbers of the Hive and alliances with Diamond Dogs and other 'lower order' species to stage vicious raids on civilizations, taking entire villages by storm with their hordes and leaving with a bounty of victims to be turned into food for the Hive.

But brazen attacks meant everyone knew who was responsible, and that was how many Hives had ended up being wiped out. Changelings didn't have the strength of earth ponies, the flight talents of pegasi, or the magic of unicorns, and they were often cowards by nature. When they didn't have the advantages of fear and numbers and powerful allies, when their training didn't matter in the face of overwhelming odds, they always just... gave up.

That was their instinct, after all: follow orders. And when there were no orders left to follow, they just fell apart.

Marina shook her head, silently studying this unknown before her. If Chrysalis was desperate enough to move the Hive and prepare for an all-out attack, then what kind of state had the Hive been left in after the Equestrians attacked it? Was this... her fault?

No, that was stupid. She hadn't attacked Equestria. And she knew that the Equestrians had taken every measure to preserve life.

She looked down for a moment, chewing on her lip before she closed her eyes and took a breath. Then she straightened a bit as she looked back and forth, reaching carefully out with her Changeling senses and using the camera in her eye to augment her view of the world.

Three Diamond Dog patrols, spaced widely out... they wouldn't be able to smell her, she would just smell like another Changeling to them, but if they saw her that would be a different story.

Above, there were regular Changeling patrols passing by, as well as drones heading in and out of the fortress. And there were... yes, there were other Changelings moving along the ground. That was probably her way in.

She carefully slipped back down into the underbrush, letting her senses dull, quieting her magic as she slid through the grasses, disturbing them as little as possible. Then she winced as a faint beep went off before Octavia's voice asked quietly: “What's going on?”

“I don't think I can talk right now, Octavia...” Marina whispered as she stopped, looking anxiously back and forth before she added in spite of herself: “It looks like the Changelings have moved their Hive. I think they kidnapped my friends, too.”

“I thought you said Diamond Dogs kidnapped your friends?” Octavia asked uneasily, before she muttered: “I'm locking on to your position now. I'll inform the Luciferin and Her Majesty. Princess Celestia will want-”

“I'm going to get them back. I can't leave Moonbeam in there, not after everything she's already gone through.” Marina snapped, and then she flinched and covered her own muzzle, closing her eyes and taking a slow breath before she repeated in a quieter voice: “I'm going in.”

Octavia was silent for a moment, and then she said quietly: “Give me five minutes, Marina. Move to a safe location and wait, just for five minutes. Can you do that?”

Marina didn't want to. She was afraid of being caught, of waiting too long, of missing her opportunity to slip inside: not that she knew if that opportunity had already come and gone, of course. But she also trusted Octavia, for better or worse, more than she trusted herself.

“Okay.” she relented, and Octavia was gone before she could put any conditions on that agreement... not that she would have been able to think of anything, anyway. Octavia was going to do whatever she felt like, after all, and there wasn't anything Marina could do to stop her: she guessed they were similar in that respect. Or maybe Marina had just learned it from the earth pony.

She quietly creeped through the underbrush, making her way around the possible hive, getting e better view of the tundra that surrounded it and its defenses and inhabitants: she could see a few structures here and there around the mound, all of which seemed occupied. Were they guard posts, or storage sheds, or civilian structures? Maybe burrow markers, or... a way in?

She watched as several Changelings flew down to one of the structures and disappeared inside it: they didn't come back out, but that didn't tell Marina much. With her mechanical limbs it was going to be just about impossible for her to-

“Marina, can you hear me?” asked a quiet, curt voice from her communicator, and she blinked in surprise before nodding, then cursing herself.

“Yes.” she answered, not thinking to ask the obvious, but thankfully Octavia politely slipped in:

“Your uplink is stable for now. Marina, I trust you remember Overwatch. I've asked him to assist and provide intelligence. I will coordinate and offer analysis, but Overwatch has resources and information that I do not.”

Marina winced, and Overwatch remarked in his casual voice: “Let's think of this as a little trial run. Maybe it'll help you change your mind about that little job offer I made you. We could still use your talents, after all.”

“Enough chatter, Overwatch. We need to know what we're dealing with here.” Octavia said curtly.

Overwatch clucked his tongue, then he explained in clipped, professional tones: “Thermals indicate massive activity, chiefly underground. We have no solid historical data, but anecdotal records mention a 'war of beasts' and a 'purging' that occurred here. This may be an abandoned Hive.”

“How much of the Hive could be left?” Octavia mused, before she asked: “What about the presence of Diamond Dogs?”

“Diamond Dogs are mercenaries by nature. I wouldn't be surprised if they had some deal with the Changelings: Changelings want ponies, Diamond Dogs want gemstones and material goods commonly kept by ponies.” Overwatch said, before he added in a sharper, quieter voice: “You have guests moving in on your three o'clock.”

Marina winced, then she scrambled backwards, managing to hide herself behind a fallen log just in time. She peered over it, watching anxiously as several Diamond Dogs prowled into the area, followed by a Changeling who was looking in all directions. Before he could see her, Marina ducked down, but she was still close enough to clearly hear as he hissed: “See? Someone was just here!”

“Could be anything. Could be Changeling scrounging. Could be Diamond Dog taking nap.” retorted the Diamond Dog in the lead with a shrug, as his cohorts sniggered.

The Changeling growled, then snapped: “Search the area! The intruder might still be here, we can-”

Then the Changeling squeaked, and Marina couldn't help but lean up and peek out over the log again, and she shivered a little at the sight of the Changeling, pinned under one paw like the poor bug it was. “No. Your Queen already ask too much. We get done jobs first, then we do other jobs. Enough interruptions. You want pony? You go find pony yourself.”

The Diamond Dog flicked the Changeling away like a toy, sending him rolling backwards into the tall grasses, and the other Diamond Dogs laughed as their boss turned and sauntered away. They followed after a moment, and only after the Diamond Dogs were gone did the Changeling emerge from the grasses, glaring after them.

He brushed himself off, then uneasily looked around: Marina ducked again, but held still even as she heard the Changeling shift. It was only a few moments before the Changeling cursed, then took off into the air, and the sound of his wings faded quickly into the distance.

“They know I'm here.” Marina muttered.

“Correction: they know someone is out there.” said Overwatch crisply. “And even aware that there's some intruder, they don't have the interest or the personnel to spare looking very hard, it seems. Let's use this knowledge to our advantage: Miss Octavia, if you could forward this route to Marina, I'm sure it will be quite helpful in getting her inside.”

Marina frowned, then bit her lip as a map scrawled across her cybernetic eye before markers lit up across it. She had just enough time to take in the route they traced before the map vanished, Octavia saying calmly: “I've created a digital trail for you to follow. If you move along this route, you should not be detected.”

“As long as you exercise a bit of caution. We could be wrong.” Overwatch said with a strange joviality. “But no matter what happens, we'll get you out of the frying pan. You have my word on that.”

“As long as it's not into the fire.” Marina muttered, and then she took a slow breath before she straightened and started forwards, silently wondering to herself how long Equestria had known about this Hive, and how she had ended up getting dragged into this mess again.

But maybe it was just her fate, to be forever trapped between Changelings and ponies, just as she was herself.

The Buried Hive

Chapter Seven: The Buried Hive
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike didn't know if he was in a fortress, a temple, or something else entirely: it didn't help that there was webbing and goo from the Changelings all over the place, shaping the structure into something bizarre and alien. Some of the ancient architecture he almost recognized from images he'd seen in history books, but it was clear that the Changelings were trying to shape and twist whatever these grand and beautiful halls had once been into something... else.

That was what Changelings did though, wasn't it? They changed things. He grimaced and shook his head a little before his earfins twitched as they picked up that now-familiar buzzing, the little dragon scrambling to the side and wiggling himself into a cleft in the wall.

Only a few seconds later, a patrol of Changelings moved by, two flying and two walking, all of them armored. Spike stayed as still as possible, holding his breath and trying to quiet even his thoughts, watching as the patrol vanished down the corridor.

Was that a good sign, or a bad one? Were they looking for him, or had he just stumbled into a secure area? Well, of course this area was supposed to be secure, it was clearly some kind of palace... maybe a Hive, from all that goo and growth.

The little dragon carefully wiggled his way back out of the niche in the wall and continued hesitantly down the passage, making himself stay a little more alert. He was getting anxious now: he could feel a weird sort of heat rising around himself, and there was a sense of movement around him, and strange noises that made his scales crawl, like he was being watched, or worse, followed.

He looked anxiously back and forth, but saw nothing: just the hallway, lit by that same eerie iridescence that filled this whole area, throbbing off the phosphorescent fungi and crystals that stood out here and there across the walls. Even when he checked behind him, there was nothing: but still, that sense that he was being watched and followed, it wasn't going away.

Spike frowned uneasily as he followed the wall until he reached a strange hole: the tall, open passage continued past here to a fork, but this little conspicuous hole was large enough for him to fit into if he really wanted to. But what really stuck out to him about it was the fact that it seemed like it had been very purposefully carved through the wall.

The dragon hesitated for only a moment before ducking into it and starting to crawl his way down the narrow passage. He grimaced a bit: it was wet under his claws, and there was a weird heat that pulsed down the corridor, like he had entered some kind of living thing.

There was just enough light to see by, though: he wasn't sure where it was coming from. Sure, his draconic eyes were sharper than a pony's and could see better in the dark, but there was a dim crimson illumination: he wasn't if it actually made it easier or harder to see, with how the stone reflected the red light.

It smelled in here. And he only realized now that while it was comfortable to crawl, if something else came in, he'd have no real way to hide. He bit his lip as he anxiously looked back over his shoulder, then faced ahead and crawled a little faster, trying to make as little noise as he could while covering as much ground as possible.

And then, the very thing he'd been hoping to avoid happened: he heard a sound, and he knew he wasn't alone. He froze in the middle of the tunnel, digging his claws fearfully into the stone, but even as he strained to listen, the strange acoustics made it impossible to guess whether the noise was in front of him or behind him.

He hesitated. He scrambled at the passage, trying to turn around, but then scampering around in a circle when he thought he heard a noise behind him, or in front of him, or somewhere, everywhere-

Spike looked wildly back and forth before he tried to scramble down the passage, and then he squeaked when a Changeling seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of him, the red light making its carapace glint, its large eyes staring into him... no, through him.

Spike froze and stared back, and they simply stood, stock still, looking at one another until Spike flinched and scrambled backwards. The Changeling advanced a step, but no more, stopping in place again, looking at him calmly... emptily, Spike realized, like it didn't actually know he was there.

Spike bit his lip and frowned uneasily before he realized there was something strange about this Changeling. He nervously crawled a step forwards, and when the Changeling didn't move, he leaned in a little, then shivered a bit as he saw it didn't have a horn, or wings. Was this one of the clipped that Marina had talked about in the past?

Did it know he was here? Did it care?

Spike bit his lip, then he slid as tightly to the side of the tunnel as he could and wiggled nervously forward. The Changeling didn't respond and didn't try to move forward until Spike nervously tried to nudge past it, and then it finally shifted slightly to the side, and they managed to squeeze just past one-another.

Spike looked anxiously back over his shoulder at the clipped Changeling, but since it didn't seem to be in any hurry and hadn't given a single acknowledgment to him – apart from not stomping over him, that was – he somehow didn't feel like it was going to run and tell the guards where he was. And all he could do was move forward and try to get out of this tunnel, anyway.

That didn't take very long, at least: after only a minute more of crawling, he emerged from the tunnel into a room that was covered in Changeling webbing and goo. He bit his lip nervously as he looked back and forth: illuminated beneath weak, flickering crystal lamps, he could see Changelings, sleeping or simply standing around, staring emptily at nothing. They were all clipped, he saw: all detached from the world, all eerily empty.

The dragon carefully stood up: his eyes roved around the room as he carefully began to walk through this nest of Changelings, but they all ignored him. He chewed nervously on his lip as he headed towards the only other exit he could see... or rather, the only exit that wasn't another crawlspace, since as he walked through the room, he noted plenty of small holes all over the walls.

On the other side of the room was a crude cut through the wall, which was large enough to allow two Changelings to pass side-by-side through if they wanted. The corridor beyond ramped downwards, and he saw less stone and architecture, and more fleshy walls: he could feel the heat emanating up from below, and he wondered what that meant, and where it could possibly be coming from.

Well, there wasn't really anything he could do at this point but continue, was there? And so, with that in mind, Spike sighed before he started to nervously make his way down, deeper into the Changeling Hive, to find whatever was awaiting him in the fetid darkness below.

Marina grimaced as she carefully slipped her way down the narrow trench leading towards the Changeling Hive, wading through muck and grime. She was following small, glimmering beacons that were only visible to her cybernetic eye: Marina knew they weren't really there, that it was just some kind of data projection to help her find her way, but that didn't make it any less weird or distracting.

And distractions weren't good right now, as every so often a Diamond Dog would approach the edge of the trench, or a Changeling patrol would buzz by, and she needed all her senses and every trick she had at her disposal to make sure she could hide in time.

There weren't a lot of hiding spots in this disgusting outflow, but the muck was deep enough she could hide under it and be mostly concealed, and here and there were niches or overhangs she could slip beneath.

She could see the culvert ahead... or well, the cavern entrance, really. But they had clearly learned from their last Hive, because there were tight metal bars across the exit, further strengthened by webbing and cemented goo. Marina eyed it uneasily as she approached, then frowned when Overwatch asked her quietly: “Do you have a tool to get through that?”

Marina hesitated, so Octavia answered for her: she hated it when they talked over her like this, but appreciated being kept in the loop. “Not without making a lot of noise. I thought you guaranteed us a way in, Overwatch.”

“There are no guarantees on the battlefield, you know this. Plans meet reality and reality always wins.” Overwatch replied briskly, before he added: “The side of the drain looks vulnerable. Can you do something there?”

Marina began to approach, then winced as she heard a shifting above before she quickly slid to the side and pressed into the wall, holding her breath as a large, bulky shape leaned over the top of the ditch. It looked back and forth, then down: Marina was sure that the Diamond Dog must be able to see her, that she was caught, and she slowly steadied herself as her mechanical limbs began to tense-

The Diamond Dog spat, then retreated with a grumble. And Marina slowly relaxed, closing her eyes with a quiet sigh, letting her body loosen up before she carefully, quietly waded her way forwards, murmuring: “Too close. I need to get out of here.”

“The only way out is forwards. How's the rock look?” Overwatch nudged, and Marina scowled even as she leaned forwards, testing the stone: from the water and likely the hammering in of the metal bars, it had gotten softer. Soft enough, that with a bit of shoving, she was able to move some of it out of the way.

It splashed, and Marina looked back over her shoulder with a grimace, the sound sounding so much louder in this little culvert. But Octavia was quick to remind her: “Don't look back. The faster you move forward, the faster you're out of danger.”

“She who hesitates is lost.” Marina mumbled, and she gritted her teeth as she pushed her way into the slightly-wider gap between the bar and the rock wall, cursing under her breath as she felt her body catch and her metal limbs grind against the bar. She took a breath and backed off for a moment, resisting the urge to check over her shoulder as she shook herself out and made herself calm down, and then she took another breath and focused her Changeling magic, trying to believe herself thinner.

She didn't know if it worked or not: she knew she couldn't change her mass, or her size by more than a few inches. But maybe those few inches were what let her painfully squeeze her way past the bars, gasping as she stumbled into the tunnel beyond. She looked back in spite of herself, and she saw the shadow of a Diamond Dog on the murk, could hear grumbling and mumbling past the culvert, and the mare cursed under her breath before she let the magic recede, throwing it on before shakily plunging forwards through the tunnel, the noise of her strides echoing through the passage, not yet daring to light up her horn and only feeling her way through the sludge.

Marina slowed as the muck grew deeper around her, and she shivered a bit. The stink was strangely familiar, almost nostalgic, but for there to be this much castoff already, she knew that it meant the Changelings had to have been here for a while. How long had they been building their Hive for? How many resources had Chrysalis sacrificed? What was-

A green light gleamed ahead, and she heard voices: Marina immediately lowered herself into the muck, resisting the urge to plunge, as she held her breath and drew carefully backwards. In the distance, she could just make out two Changelings, both faintly illuminated by the backlight from their glowing horns, scanning the murk and muck: thankfully, they focused on the area around themselves, only doing a quick sweep of the tunnels beyond.

She noticed they were at the maw of some kind of tunnel, and they obviously weren't swimming, but walking on what sounded like wooden planks. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but they seemed angry, maybe on-edge... had she been spotted?

They did another scan of the area, then left. Marina hesitantly made her way forwards, even as Octavia asked in a low voice over the communicator: “Are they on alert?”

“This is... wrong.” Marina murmured: lower than a whisper, but she knew they'd both hear all the same. She couldn't explain why it felt wrong... at least, not until she found herself swimming, paddling awkwardly through the filthy muck until she reached the walkway the Changelings had been on, and she grimaced as she uneasily pulled herself up a little, looking back and forth.

This wasn't a drainage pool. This was some kind of dammed-off area, and she could see caverns beyond, lit up by crystalline lights. There was some kind of guard house off to one side of where she was, and now that her eyes were adjusting to the low light, she could see Changeling patrols constantly flying around the interior of this surprisingly-large area. She also noted ruins that littered the bottom of this cave... was this some kind of collapsed city?

A ruined city that the Changelings had just about taken over, with their goo and slime everywhere, but Marina could feel that so much of this was already dying. She could feel a pulse now, too: like a weak heartbeat, and when she strained her eyes she could swear she could see faint trails of light, pulsing in time with that beat of the hive, stretching like tentacles out of the collapsed building in the center of the Hive cavern.

“I imagine there's some kind of piping that connects this drainage pool to wherever the muck is coming from. The composition here seems more liquid than solid.” remarked Overwatch. “What produces this kind of... uh... sewage, for lack of a better word?”

“It's not sewage.” was all Marina could think to say, grimacing a bit and not wanting to think about the fact that yes, with all these Diamond Dogs around, it might in fact be... no, I've got enough to deal with. “I thought you had... a map or something.”

“We have thermal scans and estimates and vague ideas.” Overwatch corrected. “In real practice, our below-ground scanning doesn't amount to a lot, especially not with all these complex structures. Do you think you can get closer, or should you try and go below the surface?”

Marina grimaced: she didn't relish the idea of swimming down into this sludge to find out if Overwatch was right or not about the piping. Well, that and... “I don't think I can hold my breath for that long. And even if I could, I assume the flow from the pipes might be too strong, or worse, the castoff might be corrosive.”

Overwatch mused, then asked: “Can you map a route for her, Octavia? It looks like there's a lot of activity, but there should be some kind of way through.”

Octavia didn't reply as Marina carefully pulled herself up onto the walkway. She kept her body low even as she shook herself off, muck pattering down over the filthy boards of the dam as she looked out over the cavern beyond.

“I think I see a way down.” she said after a moment: there was definitely some kind of path to her right, away from the guardhouse. She turned, moving carefully and quietly through the darkness, constantly checking above for Changelings. In the dim light, she didn't think they'd be able to see her very well, and if they sent out a pulse to check if she was a Changeling or not, she could at least send a vague pulse back, or just ignore it and hope they didn't pick up anything odd about her.

She felt her way over to the path, where it stretched along the wall and ramped down to the bottom of the cavern. She shivered a bit as her eyes roved down, and she noticed not just leaks in the dam, but dozens of clipped Changelings industriously working all along the structure. They looked starved and exhausted, even with how emotionless they were: it pained her to see them like this.

She lingered for a moment, until Octavia said quietly: “Keep going, Marina. You can't do anything for them right now.”

“Yes. I know.” Marina shook her head quickly, then she turned her eyes forwards, taking a breath before she continued down the path, keeping close to the mountain wall and her eyes focused on the cavern ahead.

Sneaking down wasn't a problem: the problems began once she reached the floor of the cavern, where there was a stretch of empty rock plateau without any visible cover. Marina grimaced, looking up at the air above and watching as a patrol of Changelings buzzed by: they were going past much more frequently now. Had something riled them up?

Marina was half-tempted to try and listen in on the pulse of the Hive: god, even after all this time, it still called to her. There was still that natural instinct to just... defer to what the Hive was saying, even with how weak that heartbeat was.

Marina shook her head, forcing herself away from that temptation as Octavia said quietly: “There appears to be some kind of structure approximately forty paces away. Do you think you can reach it?”

“I can't seen an entrance, though.” Marina said uneasily as the aforementioned structure lit up in her vision: without Octavia's help, she never would have seen it. And even if it was closer than the other ruins... “That's still a long distance to cover. With all this activity, they have to have noticed me...”

“No.” Overwatch said after a moment, and he sounded surprisingly sure of himself. “Their activity appears to be centered around that large structure, what seems like the core of the Hive they're trying to build... I have to say, this is quite a bit larger than the previous Hive, however.”

“No, it's not.” Marina murmured, unable to help herself as she looked up at the dried, paper-like tatters hanging from the roof of the cave: they likely looked like massive nest-pieces to the ponies, but she knew what they actually were: hanging barracks, something that her Hive-knowledge told her had been very popular in the old days, but they no longer had the numbers or the strength to put to proper use.

No, the real Hive was below the ground, under the ruins. Changelings felt safer under the earth: even a cavern like this, wide and open, was too much space for them to feel safe. They liked tunnels, labyrinths, catacombs, and most of all, places where there was just enough room to fly, but not enough to do so comfortably.

“I do have to ask.” Overwatch said suddenly. “Do you find it strange at all you managed to breach this Hive in the same manner you did the last?”

“No. Changelings are... we're creatures of habit.” Marina murmured, shaking her head. “We just do what we're told. If the Queen told us that putting up those bars was good enough, we wouldn't think twice about it. But... I don't know how the Diamond Dogs are going to react.”

“Diamond Dogs aren't smart, but many Equestrians overestimate just how stupid they are, as well. Keep on the move.” advised Overwatch.

Marina looked up, watching as another trio of Changelings buzzed by above. She followed them uneasily with her eyes to one of the outer paper structures, watching how they alighted for a moment on instinct: she didn't think any living Changeling had ever used the floating barracks, and yet...

“Is that how strong our instincts are? Or is the whisper of the Hive still that strong?” Marina murmured, and then she shook her head and discarded those thoughts for now, taking the moment that this gave her to hurry across the open floor to the outlined structure, pressing her body against it and carefully moving along the side of the ruin.

She found a hole that she slipped into, but was disappointed to find it wasn't much more than that: a shallow hole in the wall. But it gave her a moment to rest out of sight and get her bearings again as Overwatch muttered: “Strange. Activity appears to be increasing. Our scans aren't very accurate but this looks like agitation...”

Marina opened her mouth, and then she shivered and grasped at her head with one hoof as she felt a... a shudder in the heartbeat of the Hive. It wasn't that it gave an order: it was a reflex because there was an outside, an intruder, getting too close to the heart of the Hive, and the Hive was crying out to be defended, for help...

Her instincts and responses were so hardwired she automatically began to step out of hiding, and it was only Octavia's voice that snapped her back to reality: “What was that? All my readings spiked at once, are you under attack?”

“No, n-no.” Marina forced herself to stop, biting her lip as she almost reluctantly pulled herself mentally away from that connection with the Hive, and she felt the Hive... call for her? Whimper, whisper? She didn't have the words, but it was stretching out to her, trying to get her attention, begging, pleading...

“Marina.” Overwatch said crisply. “Clear your head, dear, you don't have time to linger. If the Hive is becoming agitated you should go to ground and-”

“No, I... I need to get inside.” Marina muttered, looking back and forth. “Octavia, how do I get to that structure up there? The ruins. The ruins must lead down to the core of the Hive.”

“Marina, you have no way of knowing that. Nor do I think I can map you a safe route. Just look.” Octavia answered, and Marina grimaced as her cybernetic eye gleamed, lighting up the now-agitated Changelings that had taken to the air, flying in almost wild circles as they organized themselves.

She knew what was going to happen: when the Hive was in danger, the Changelings would blockade and fortify every possible entrance, while the Queensguard moved to take care of the threat. Either the Changelings would catch the intruder trying to escape, or the Queensguard would... and if the Queensguard caught whoever was down there, they would kill them.

There was no good answer here: even if she moved as quietly and carefully as possible and magically avoided detection, whoever was getting too close to the core was going to die. It had to be one of her friends, she knew that it had to be, and she couldn't let them die, could she?

She could run. Charge to the heart of the Hive. Try to get whoever it was out of there. But she had a tiny window where the Changelings would all be confused and one wrong turn would ruin everything. And even if she managed to somehow save whoever was down there, there would be no escape. They'd be lucky if they were caught by a patrol instead of the Queensguard, at least then there was a chance they'd be imprisoned and not executed...

“Marina.” Overwatch said quietly but firmly, bringing her back to reality. “I don't know what's going on, but I do know that you are working on a tight schedule. Make a decision.”

Marina knew he was right. And out of desperation, she reached out to the Hive, and she felt it immediately reconnect with her, telling her what to do and where to go, calling her down to it-

Marina felt a plan half-forming in her head as she began to scramble up the ruins, even as Octavia snapped in her ears that this was ill-advised. She guessed that was a fancy way of saying she was being stupid, but even when eyes passed over her, right now all the Changelings saw was another Changeling. Even with her gear and mechanical limbs, she was just another Changeling to them, being called by the Hive-

A Diamond Dog snarled and jumped in front of her: she didn't know from here and she didn't care. It was huge, beastly, and leaned down to bark, and Marina didn't have the time to deal with it as she snapped her horn forward and blasted it in the face with a flare of green light, making it scream and stumble backwards, covering its sensitive eyes.

Marina leapt around it, ignoring the sweep of one paw even as it scratched against her side. Her metal legs caught her and propelled her onward, and she heard the dog snarl and spin around, heard it running after her as the Changelings above buzzed and shouted: but they were still confused from the signal from the Hive, still trying to organize themselves.

The Hive was guiding her: it was her ally as much as her enemy, that almost-sentient pulse warning Changelings even as it called her towards it on the sharpest, quickest route. It called Marina to a gap in the wall she didn't think even Octavia would have been able to detect for her, and she leapt towards it.

But the Diamond Dog behind her leapt after her, catching her by the back with both front paws and slamming her down on her stomach. She cried out in shock and pain before she felt its claws seize into her shoulders as it pinned her and threw itself over her, its drool dripping over her neck as it snorted steam over her, its claws digging through her hide as it tried to scrabble on top of her, that heavy body threatening to crush her.

Marina tried to kick backwards, but the dog shifted forward. Its jaws snapped at her, flaying the end of her ear open, and the mare gasped in pain before she slammed a metal hoof forwards, half out of panic and half out of instinct. It shattered a large rock loose from the ground in front of her, and without hesitating, Marina picked it up with her magic and flung it blindly backwards as hard as she could.

The Diamond Dog screamed as the rock slammed with a meaty thunk into its face. It stumbled, and Marina immediately slammed both rear hooves hard back into its body, knocking the Diamond Dog crashing and rolling down the side of the mountainous pile of rocks.

She leapt up to her hooves, stumbling towards that gap in the wall before she squeezed into it with a gasp. She heard the Diamond Dog roar in fury and frustration behind her, but she didn't look back, even when it shoved a paw into the crevice to claw after her.

Marina almost fell into a tunnel beyond, gritting her teeth as she shook herself quickly out before she winced when dust and pebbles hailed against her when the Diamond Dog threw itself angrily against the crevice. She saw the rock creaking, stumbling backwards, but it was Octavia that made her move when she snapped: “Get out of there!”

Readings lit up in red across her cybernetic eye, and Marina scrambled backwards before spinning and running down this dark, narrow tunnel, scraping painfully against thin walls as the Diamond Dog tore its way through the rock wall behind her, roaring for a moment before it shrieked in pain and surprise when the unstable ceiling above gave way. Marina gasped and choked as she forced herself to keep moving as the tunnel collapsed behind her, feeling the walls of unstable rock shifting around her before she staggered through a broken brick wall with a gasp of surprise, stumbling and nearly falling over as dust vomited out around her hooves, blinking wildly as she coughed a few times.

Two Changelings stared at her in confusion and surprise, and Marina stared back for a moment before she winced when one of the drones howled: “Intruder!”

“Shut up!” Marina shouted, and the drone stared at her in shock before the mare took a breath and let her glammer drop, hating it even as she did it before she snapped: “I'm trying to get to the Hive's heart so I can... I can fix this!”

“What?” The Changelings looked stupefied now, but Marina guessed she'd prefer them confused over hostile as one of them asked: “Wait, we were warned about you! You're-”

“I feel the voice of the Hive as clearly as you do. It's suffering.” Marina said, and it wasn't the words that mattered, it was the way she spoke them, the honesty, as she blurted out: “We need to help it!”

“That's... not our job.” said the other drone, but it sounded hesitant, uneasy. Then all three looked up as a patrol of Changelings hurried into the room, waving spears around, and Marina winced as one of the drones ducked and shouted: “What are you doing?”

“Where's the intruder?” snapped one of the soldiers, but Marina saw he was more frightened than he was angry. He was young, and he wasn't... no, he wasn't a solder. He was just a drone in a too-big helmet that had been forced to carry a spear, and the other Changelings looked just as scared.

They were all so scared.

What the hell was going on?

Marina did the only thing she could think of, trying to sound like she was in charge and in control as she said: “Stop waving that around before you poke someone's eye out!”

“Oh. Sorry.” The Changeling drone shrank a little, then he looked nervously at Marina's mechanical limbs before his eyes roved over the rest of her in confusion. “I... are you a drone? I don't know what you are. Are you the intruder?”

“He said he's here to help.” one of the Changeling drones put in.

“I need to get down to the core. I'm... here to help.” Marina said. That was all she could think to say, and maybe, it was all she needed to say.

She wasn't one of them. Not anymore. But she looked like them, in spite of her cybernetic parts. She spoke their language, knew their signals, and most of all, she could hear the Hive and speak with it still. Just enough, just enough that these confused, scared drones who didn't know what to do hesitated to attack her... and finally, gave in to Changeling instinct and ingrained deference, one of the drones pointing at a passage to the left.

“If you...” He gulped, then whispered, as if he was saying something forbidden: “If you go through the clipped passageways, you can get to the core pretty quickly. I mean, that's... that's against the rules. But we should all be blockading this place off, and you... well...”

He stopped, but Marina only smiled briefly before she nodded once and turned to leave. She only got a few steps, however, before one of the drones blurted: “But the Queensguard will kill you! They'll kill anything that isn't supposed to be near the Hive and... you're not supposed to go down there!”

“That's a chance I'll have to take.” Marina answered, glancing back for a moment before she turned and vanished into the passage.

The drones lingered uneasily together in the room for a few moments, before one of them asked uncertainly: “Shouldn't we catch her or something? She's... different, so she must not be... one of us?”

It was a question more than a statement, and the other drones tried to grasp it, tried to think beyond the simple, easy lives of order and command they had been given, until one of them looked down at the spear he had been forced to carry. It trembled in his telekinetic grip before he grimaced and threw it down, and the others stared in shock as the drone said: “She's... she's dead anyway, the Queensguard will get her. And... I'm not supposed to be a soldier. I don't want to hurt anyone. I want to do what I'm supposed to do and fix the Hive, not fight!”

The other Changelings stared in shock at their companion, who meekly lowered his head. But after a moment, the other drones threw down their weapons as well, and they nodded to each other before they turned and hurried out of the room together, to do as the voice of the Hive told them, to protect their Hive.

Even if that meant not entirely obeying the orders of the Queen and her Queensguard.

Bravery

Chapter Eight: Bravery
~BlackRoseRaven

Spike shivered as he trod deeper into the Hive, his eyes roving uneasily back and forth over unstable walls that were stained with sludge and organic matter. He hugged himself as he trembled, but he wasn't shaking because he was cold: the wet, humid heat was almost oppressive. No, he was afraid: there was no point in pretending he wasn't, as he wandered helplessly through a labyrinth of fleshy passages that formed the innards and organs of this bizarre Changeling Hive.

There wasn't much space to hide in these dank, dreary tunnels: thankfully, there also didn't seem to be much reason to. The only things he'd seen moving through these halls were more of those strange Changelings, the clipped that lacked horns or wings and seemingly any will or personality. He didn't know why, but the sight of those miserable servants frightened him far more than the drones or soldiers did.

Spike's eyes caught on a hole in the wall ahead, and he nervously approached to carefully lean in and look through it: there were gaps like this here and there through the walls, which seemed to act as both ventilation and windows into other parts of the Hive. He peered through it, and grimaced at the sight of Changeling drones hurrying back and forth, moving strange, gooey materials from shelves to what he guessed were storage containers. He couldn't tell what they were doing: if he had to guess, then he imagined they were Changelings moving some kind of food or resource into hiding to protect it from... what, him?

Were the Changelings really that afraid of him? They hadn't seemed all that scared when they had attacked them earlier, but then again, he was learning very quickly that even if they all looked the same to him, the Changelings were all very different. These clipped were so broken; the ones that he guessed were workers or drones, who he spied now and then through the vents puttering around, seemed so scared and worried.

The big ones in armor seemed angry, and like they didn't care about their friends and hivemates any more than they cared about him.

Spike continued down the fleshy passage, chewing on his lip before he looked up as he reached a fork. His eyes roved nervously back and forth as he lingered, shifting himself uneasily into the wall as if to half-hide as several clipped passed by. He watched for a few moments, knowing that he couldn't afford to make a mistake at this point.

Most of them seemed to be coming from one direction, while others were moving down the other tunnel. He decided it would probably be safer to follow the clipped rather than go against their flow: not because he was worried about disturbing them or anything, but rather that if there were security checkpoints or something ahead, it would be a lot easier to move forwards hiding in a group of them, rather than trying to run between ones going in the opposite direction.

That made sense, right? Spike nodded a little to himself as he chewed anxiously on his lip, hesitantly starting down the right tunnel and following close behind several of the clipped. They moved tirelessly, never rushing but never slowing down either, even when the Hive shook with uneasy rumbles or the shouts of other Changelings.

It seemed to be getting worse. Had something been triggered? Had Marina maybe gone for help or contacted someone instead of following the girls? No, he had believed her when she'd said she was going after them, and even more than that, Moonbeam had believed in her. Going off to get other people instead of saving them herself...

That would have been the smart thing. Probably the right thing to do. They weren't heroes: Spike was faced with that truth yet again, and how he hated it. But at the same time it was tempered by the thought that not-heroes like him had helped, more than once, to stop the bad guys and save Equestria.

So it was stupid to be angry or feel like it was a betrayal. The person he should be angry at was himself, dragging Moonbeam into this, costing them precious time when they could have already had help on the way, if he'd just sent a message out to Celestia or Twilight.

He was angry at himself. He knew he had made a mistake and gotten wrapped up in things, and now gotten himself and Moonbeam into horrible trouble. And now here he was, walking down a slimy tunnel, trying to save everyone because at this point, what other choice did he have but to follow through with the path that he'd chosen?

He had never thought about that, either. It wasn't just that he had put them into danger, it was that there was no turning back from the choice he'd made. He had to see things through, one way or the other, whether he liked it or not. You didn't get any do-overs in life. Second chances sometimes, sure, but it didn't change what you'd done, or what choices you had already made.

Spike grimaced as he saw the passageway widening around them, and he heard faint voices ahead: but there was no turning back now, was there? Instead, he hurried forwards, sliding in between the clipped, and he could swear that they shifted for him, just enough to let him find a space in the middle of the group of clipped, keeping himself low and just hoping that no Changeling happened to be in the air or low to the ground when he passed by.

He couldn't see what was around them as they passed through some kind of larger, open area, but he could hear them: frantic hoofsteps, things being shifted and dragged around, the buzzing of wings and the yelling of voices. Spike held his breath and listened intently as one of the nearer voices growled: “Get everyone into position! Block all the exits!”

“What about production? The clipped-”

Spike winced at a sound that was clearly a slap, accented by a cry of pain. “Shut up! They need to keep working! You need to get those exits locked down!”

“Y-You can't hit me! I'm not a soldier, I'm a drone!” blurted out the Changeling, and Spike shivered as he heard a squeal of pain.

“You're a soldier now.” that cruel voice hissed, and it somehow sounded like a threat to Spike. But that was the last thing he heard, as the group of clipped moved on and headed down another tunnel, and Spike felt the humidity and that sense of eerie life increasing around him again.

He almost didn't want to think about where they were going. He had a dozen questions and no answers: all he could see were the clipped covering him, and the mix of soil and hive matter under his feet. All he could do was hope that they were leading him in the right direction...

That made him think about what that soldier had said: what were the clipped 'producing' that was so important? They wanted this area locked down: this was clearly the hive's underbelly, and if the hive was like a living thing, then that meant this was where all the important functions were. Waste disposal, storage... food production?

Spike nervously pushed his way forwards a little, and the clipped naturally parted for him with barely a touch, letting him see between them. At first, all he saw was the continuing descent, but after a moment his eyes caught on the end of the tunnel that was finally nearing: nothing right now but a strange, pulsing green light, filled with eerie shapes and shadows that slid through the luminescence.

The little dragon bit his lip as they drew closer, letting himself slip back a little to hide in the shadows between the clipped. They closed rank slightly around him, and he fidgeted and looked back and forth as they passed through the cavern entrance and he heard the distinct thud of hooves out of beat with the quiet beat of the clipped's consistent cadence.

Strange, intense green light filled the air around them as they made their way into the... Spike wasn't sure at first. It was humid, and he could hear strange noises and smell something unpleasant. He bit his lip nervously, then winced when the clipped suddenly parted around him, heading in different directions, and the dragon flinched before he scrambled for the nearest source of cover he could see.

He ducked behind a tall shape, then grimaced a bit as he felt a slimy wetness, pushing himself back and away from it before he looked up. His eyes widened in horror as he realized he'd pressed himself against a glowing green cocoon, but any whimpers caught in his throat as he covered his mouth before his eyes darted to the side as he heard heavy stomping.

He pushed himself back against the cocoon, shivering a bit as his eyes darted over it, staring through the translucent green ooze at the shape of a pony within before he shook his head hurriedly and forced himself to look away, to focus on the approaching hooves. He dropped to all fours and silently crawled around the side of the cocoon as the hooves approached, and he held his breath and watched as a hulking Changeling in armor stomped past, glaring balefully out from under its helmet, but thankfully missing any trace of the little dragon, if only by a moment.

Spike waited for the giant to stomp away, then he let out a slow breath before he let his eyes travel anxiously around the area he had ended up in. He saw cocoons, and clipped walking back and forth, checking on the alien-looking slime-pods that contained ponies, as well as smaller, almost bulb-like protrusions that seemed to be growing here and there out of the ground, veins of yellow and green pulsating in the floor around these tumors.

He saw those strange, glowing roots – or maybe they were sinewy cables – seemed to extend out from around the cocoons as well: it formed a webwork that seemed to tighten towards the center, where he could see the lip of some kind of strange structure, like the mouth of a well. Weak light pulsed out of this: Spike couldn't help but notice that it was actually dimmer there than it was around the rest of the room, however.

The dragon looked back and forth, then carefully scuttled towards this, moving silently from pod to pod. He didn't know why he was drawn to it, but something about it seemed to call to him, to beckon him towards it...

He paused behind a pod, biting his lip anxiously as he saw another large, armored Changeling coming towards him, and for a moment he almost panicked as he realized there was nowhere to hide with the open ground behind him, before a clipped strode in front of him to begin checking over the pod, giving him much-needed cover. He crouched behind it, holding his breath, and he shivered as he heard the Changeling guard stop for a moment before it simply snorted and moved on, muttering: “Lazy slaves.”

Spike waited for a few moments, then he let out a sigh before he blinked in surprise when the clipped in front of him turned and silently moved on. He stared after it, wondering uneasily if the creatures were helping him somehow, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, and then he simply shook his head before he skirted around the pod and hurried towards the center of the room, checking back over his shoulder as he hurried up to the edge of the well.

He could hear what sounded almost like a heart thrumming, throbbing away, and the little dragon nervously grasped the short wall around the edge of the glowing cistern and hefted himself up to peek over the edge. His eyes widened as found himself staring down into a glowing green pit, mouthing wordlessly for a moment at the sight of the eldritch substance inside: was this what the Changelings fed on? Love, distilled?

But it was weak, he thought: it looked more like gooey slurry than what he imagined love must look like. Then again, what did he know? The idea that love would be some pure, warm substance was a romantic one, after all... he knew enough about loving someone that it could be a thankless and cruel emotion, after all.

He grimaced a bit, then frowned uneasily as the pulse of the love seemed to react somehow, darkening, then brightening. He hesitated for a moment, looking quickly back over his shoulder, before he carefully hefted himself up onto the edge of the well, taking a breath before he shifted over it and let himself hang down the slick inner wall of the well.

He had no idea what he was doing or why the hell he was doing this, as he braced himself as best he could, then reached a claw hesitantly down. And the slurry seemed to pulsate, to beckon, to reach itself back up to him, and Spike had this horrible thought of it rising up and eating him alive just before the tips of his claws brushed the surface-

He spasmed and nearly let go of the edge of the wall, feeling a shudder run through his body as his whole body instinctively clenched at the shock that ran through him. Yes, he felt love, but also intense pain; the anguish of capture, the fear of the monsters that had done this to them, that had stripped them, sucked the very love out of them; despair, hate, and the emptiness that was left in its place when love was drawn like blood from a wound that might never heal...

Spike yanked his claw away with a short gasp, shuddering and clenching his eyes shut, curling his body up as he clung to the wall. This wasn't pure love. There was so much pain in this love, because love wasn't something you could just suck out of ponies, love wasn't something you could harvest like wheat, with force and sickle.

How desperate were the Changelings if this was the best they could do, if this was all the love they could manage to steal?

But that wasn't what he had to focus on. He had also felt... he didn't know whether to call it the spirit or the presence of the ponies who had been drained, but now he knew that the ponies who had been captured were here. The Crusaders and Moonbeam: he had felt them in that slurry. Maybe there was a chance to get them out.

He nodded to himself, then began to pull himself up before his eyes widened as his head rose and he found himself staring in horror at a furious Changeling soldier that was glaring back down at him.

It grabbed at him, and Spike threw himself backwards before he could think about what he was doing, plunging down and clenching his eyes shut as he splashed into the pit of love. He flailed as he felt a shock run through his body, grabbing wildly at the surface of the pool before he blinked and realized that he was sitting on his butt in sludge that barely reached up to his waist, the dragon mouthing wordlessly before he winced and scrambled backwards when the Changeling soldier leapt down into the pit with a snarl.

“Intruder!” the Changeling roared at him, but he only managed to take a single step forwards before he hissed and staggered, the slime sticking to him like glue. He helplessly tried to yank his legs loose as Spike stumbled up to his feet, staring as the guard shivered and bared his fangs, shaking back and forth as if he was caught before he howled in pain and frustration.

Spike had no idea what was going on, and he didn't care, either: instead, he took the chance to turn and scramble up one of the slimy walls of the well, yanking himself over the edge and throwing himself back onto the ground. The frustrated guard roared from the well, but Spike didn't look back: instead, he found himself staring at the two other soldiers only a few feet away from him.

He gritted his teeth, then he took a breath and straightened slightly, making himself as big as possible as he warned in a voice that only trembled slightly: “Don't... back off, or I'll...”

“You'll what?” One of the Changelings sneered, and then he leapt forwards, and Spike's eyes widened in horror as he flung himself backwards, just avoiding being crushed under a hoof that hit the floor hard enough to punch a hole in it.

The goliath yanked his hoof back with a grin, leaning forwards, and Spike reacted more out of fear than anything else, slashing a claw at the Changeling's face. It made the soldier swear and flinch in surprise as those sharp little claws ripped down his muzzle, and Spike immediately took the opportunity it gave him to leap into a run past the guard.

The Changeling immediately spun around to pursue, roaring in fury, and Spike looked back over his shoulder with a wince before he looked back up and cursed at the sight of a clipped calmly crossing in front of him. He had just enough time to duck and slide under the Changeling, and this time he forced himself not to look back even as he heard the meaty thud of the clipped being slammed out of the way by the giant barreling after him.

“Stop him!” ordered the giant as Spike skidded around a pod, then flung himself back against it. The soldier ran past for a moment, but then skidded to a halt, his horn releasing a green pulse as his comrade joined him before they both spun towards where the dragon had tried to hide.

Spike winced, and one soldier charged at him as the other flanked off to the side around another pod: the dragon narrowly avoided a grab before he squeaked and leapt away from a blast of green fire, knowing he didn't have much time before the other huge Changeling got either around to his side or behind him. Maybe he couldn't stand his ground against these giants, but either he figured out a way to fight them or confuse them, or they were going to...

They were going to kill him.

Spike almost froze up with that realization, as time seemed to slow, as he saw the hate and the anger and the ruthlessness in that Changeling's eyes. All the things he had seen, all the 'bad guys' they had fought, and yet he'd never been in a danger like this.

This wasn't a game. He wasn't going to be 'captured' or just receive a beating if he screwed up. This Changeling wanted him dead.

The giant lunged at him as the other started to move in from the side, and Spike vomited out a blast of scalding flame in sheer terror as he leapt backwards. It stopped the charge of the flanking goliath and seared the face of the Changeling in front of him, who screamed and backed rapidly up, grabbing wildly at his helmet before he flung the glowing, steaming metal cover off, his whole head smoldering.

The chitin of the Changeling had protected him from being badly burnt, but when his eyes opened, they were scared and sightless. And yet that only made it all the more frightening as his horn lit up and he snarled, shouting furiously: “I'll tear your legs off, dragon!”

Spike stumbled backwards, terrified, horrified: at what he had done, at the fact this giant still wanted to hurt him, kill him. And the other one wasn't afraid: it was prowling to the side, waiting for an opening, as the third giant slowly hauled himself up over the ledge of the well, trembling and drooling, but all the same, focusing its narrow gaze on the dragon with the same murderous intent.

Spike didn't feel like a hero. He felt like he was going to piss himself: in fact, he already might have, but the feeling had gone out of his trembling legs. His breath felt like it was scorching the inside of his own mouth and his claws shivered as he pushed himself slowly backwards, until he almost backed into a clipped.

One of the soldiers suddenly snapped his horn forwards, and Spike ducked before he looked back over his shoulder in shock when that blast of hellflame smashed into the clipped, knocking it in a boneless sprawl with a horrific, necrotic tear ripped across its chest. Then the dragon cried out in agony when a hoof smashed into him, knocked rolling backwards with a gasp of pain before he landed on his stomach with a groan, head ringing, stomach twisting, eyes rolling in his head.

The guards were advancing.

He just wanted to lay here, though, and let it be over.

But he couldn't.

The guards were advancing.

He had to stop them somehow. He had to fight.

Spike pushed himself up, and a Changeling grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face down into the ground before it turned and flung him like a toy into a pod. He smashed against it with a wet squelch, ripping the cocoon open before he fell to the ground and shivered as a waterfall of ooze poured down over him. He pushed himself up, faster this time, but then flung himself back down on his side to narrowly avoid a lash of green energy.

“He's mine!” hissed the blinded Changeling, and he stumbled away from the other guards, advancing on him. Spike trembled, but gamely dragged himself up, heart thudding in his chest as he faced off against the aggressor, forcing himself to not be afraid, to not be afraid, as the Changeling guard growled: “I'm going to kill him, but I'm going to do it slow.”

“Don't... I don't want to fight you, but I will.” Spike said in a trembling voice as he faced the Changeling. But the beast only grinned at him, snorting steam as he loomed over the little dragon, so much larger and crueler and stronger.

The blinded Changeling glared down at him through his scarred eyes, his horn gleaming and thrumming, and Spike looked up as bravely as he could before he gasped when the Changeling grabbed him by the throat and hefted him into the air.

A hoof slammed into his stomach, and Spike gagged and curled up as tears welledi n his eyes, gasping and clutching uselessly at the hoof crushing into his neck. He coughed and shuddered as the Changeling growled: “Some dragon.”

The little dragon bit his lip as the Changeling drew his hoof back to punch him again, and then he leaned forwards and breathed out a blast of green flame that washed over the creature's horn, searing it and nullifying the Changeling's own magic. The giant swore and flung Spike backwards, grabbing at his head with a shout of pain before he lurched forwards, but Spike was able to easily scramble backwards to avoid being crushed, the blinded, confused Changeling snarling in fury as he hammered at the ground, no longer able to sense the dragon as his magic fizzled and crackled uselessly around his singed horn. “Where are you?”

Spike leapt backwards, and the guard looked sharply up before lunging at him, the dragon wincing and ducking out of the way to just avoid the wild tackle. Instead of hitting him, the Changeling crashed into the torn cocoon, smashing through the goop and spasming before he yanked himself loose in a hail of green slime, swearing and stumbling back and forth almost comically as he shook sludge off his body.

But the other guards had lost patience with watching, and were now closing in, one of them carelessly shoving the blinded, disoriented soldier over as they both advanced on the little dragon. Spike backed up, baring his teeth in fear more than aggression, his eyes darting back and forth: he had barely been able to confuse one. There was no way he could deal with two of them at a time.

He couldn't run, either: there was nowhere to run. Even the clipped were only standing now, waiting and watching. They couldn't help him here.

Spike backed up, trembling, and the Changeling soldiers continued to advance, glaring balefully at him. He could hear his heart thudding in his chest, the pounding seeming to get louder by the moment-

Wait, that wasn't his heart!

Spike realized this a moment before Marina leapt in and slammed one of her steel hooves into the face of a Changeling soldier, knocking him crashing and rolling across the ground with a cry of shock. The other guard immediately spun to face her, opening his mouth, but his jaw was snapped shut by a ferocious uppercut that made his eyes bulge out, knocking him rearing backwards before Marina spun around and kicked him hard in the chest with both hind hooves, denting in his armor and sending him flying across the room.

The guard Marina had punched had already recovered, but Spike was amazed to watch as Marina effortlessly dodged the blasts of green flame he lashed at her, before she ducked under a strike from its hooves, then weaved away from a slash of its horn.

The guard that had fallen into the pit came stumbling forwards, wavering and unstable on his hooves, but still a threat, even if only because he was a distraction. And Spike didn't know what compelled him to, but he suddenly leapt forwards, charging across the floor and vaulting off Marina's back as she grappled with the soldier she had already engaged.

The dragon crashed into the face of the disoriented Changeling and knocked it backwards, the guard losing his balance and flopping painfully down on his stomach. Driven by terror and instinct, Spike sent a rush of almost white-hot flame out across the head and face of the stunned soldier, who bucked wildly before he screamed and flung Spike backwards, clawing uselessly at his face.

But that only lasted a few moments before he slumped on his side, going limp as Spike stared at what he'd done, trembling on the ground. His head swam, and he was barely aware of the sound of Marina knocking the remaining soldier senseless with a blow to his neck.

Spike felt a metal hoof on his shoulder, and he looked up at her as she gave a small smile down at him. The dragon trembled, and then he dropped his head and vomited, clenching his eyes shut as he took a few short, struggling breaths, then whimpered: “Is... is he dead?”

There was silence for a moment, and then Marina simply said: “Yes.”

Spike nodded briefly, and then he shook his head before he forced himself to sit up, taking a brief breath before whispering: “They're here. I... they're here, yeah.”

Marina nodded, squeezing Spike's shoulder gently before she straightened and looked around. There shouldn't have already been Queensguard here: it was amazing that Spike had somehow survived. He looked worn and weary, though, and she couldn't blame him: she didn't want to imagine what he had been through.

She looked back and forth through this food storage: the clipped had begun to circulate again, industriously going about repairing the torn-open cocoon and the other damages to the room. She couldn't help but notice how sickly everything looked, though: these clipped were thin and malnourished, the hive nodes were shrunken and didn't seem to be doing their job of filtering emotions – and they probably weren't storing much excess love, either – and the veins that were supposed to circulate and carry love had an almost infected look to them.

The Hive told her that it had been pushed too hard. The Queen had asked too much and the Hive was dying: Chrysalis' greed and anger had overwhelmed her common sense, and even if they could build some grand, massive Hive, it was going to soon be nothing but a dead shell.

Marina shook herself out of her reverie, then she took a breath before looking back at Spike and saying quietly but firmly: “We need to find the others and get out of here as soon as possible, okay? I need you to be strong for me, Spike.”

“I... I can. I'll try, I can.” Spike murmured as he picked himself shakily up, trembling and shaking his head before he took a shuddering breath before he turned and looked anxiously around the room. “They're... they're somewhere over there.”

Marina didn't question how he knew that: she only nodded and headed in the direction he had indicated. Spike followed after her, staring a little at the Queensguard they had fought, and she gave him the moment to process. She could imagine he needed it.

She felt Moonbeam before she reached her, and she couldn't help but tremble a little as she looked at the mare she had caused so much trouble for. She was the one who had put her in this situation, this hell... twice now, she thought bitterly, as she looked into the pulsating green pod at the unicorn who was trapped inside.

Marina bit her lip, then she shoved her hooves through the slime, tearing through the film that protected the pod. She grasped the body trapped inside, then yanked it forwards, dragging Moonbeam out with a splatter of ooze as the glow faded rapidly from the cocoon. She cursed under his breath as Moonbeam fell against her, trembling and clinging to the mare in her forelegs as she whispered: “I'm so sorry.”

She felt the unicorn tremble, and then Moonbeam's eyes flickered weakly before she whispered: “Never again.”

“Never again. Never again.” Marina promised, and Moonbeam smiled weakly up at her before she closed her eyes, and Marina sighed in relief as she hugged the mare close to her body.

Spike watched this reunion for a moment, then he drew his eyes away, biting his lip as he nervously approached another pod. He stared at the pony inside it, then looked back over his shoulder and called shakily: “H-Hey, one of... it's Apple Bloom.”

Marina nodded, gently setting Moonbeam down, but the unicorn stubbornly clung to her for a moment, almost pulling her head down before she mumbled something incoherent. Marina smiled briefly, feeling her emotions, and she gave a hesitant nod before she carefully shifted, helping Moonbeam to her hooves.

She was shaky at first, but just the act of standing seemed to help her clear her head and find her strength again. Marina half-carried her forwards, then gestured at Spike, who approached Moonbeam's other side and floated nervously there, ready to catch her if she stumbled as the chocolate-colored mare approached the cocoon.

Marina sliced the film over the front of the cocoon open, the leaned inside and hauled Apple Bloom out, gently setting her down to the ground. She looked around as the young pony groaned and shifted a little on the floor, her eyes flickering, and Spike hesitated before he knelt down and asked: “Apple Bloom? Are you okay?”

Apple Bloom mumbled at him, and Spike smiled in relief as Marina went about freeing the other Crusaders. She worked quickly, shifting uneasily and feeling like something was wrong: the voice of the Hive was quiet, and there was an eerie feeling in the air, like she had missed something.

“I have the girls. We're going to try and get out of here, I think.” Marina murmured as she turned around, looking back and forth. She frowned uneasily, however, as she realized part of what was wrong: all the clipped were gone. But the only thing that could override the clipped...

“You will not be going anywhere.” said a cold voice, and Marina's blood froze in her veins as she looked up, staring in horror at the sight of a tall, eerie Changeling striding towards them, flanked on either side by Queensguard.

She was regal, but any beauty of her polished chitin body was ruined by the holes in her tattered mane and long limbs. She was vain, with toxic emerald eyes that looked down at them with cold contempt. Her black crown gleamed on her head, and in Marina's eyes, she all-but-glowed with command and power that nearly brought her to her knees.

Spike trembled as he stood in front of the huddle of ponies who they had just saved... or who they had almost saved, rather. There was no salvation now, was there?

Marina trembled, but forced herself to step forwards as Queen Chrysalis said in a soft, dangerous voice: “It's one thing for these ponies to defy me. But you? A defect who escaped being clipped? Utterly unacceptable.”

The Queensguard to either side of the Queen rumbled as they began to step forwards, but Chrysalis smiled thinly as she held a hoof out to the side, saying icily: “No. Let this one step forward. What is your designation, defect?”

“My... my name is Marina.” the Changeling mare replied as bravely as she could. She stepped forwards, trembling as her glammer bled away from her body, leaving her vulnerable and naked, a Changeling standing in front of her once-Queen... but Marina gritted her teeth as she forced her head to rise in spite of the iron weight of Chrysalis' presence, as she forced out: “Let us leave or... or I'll do what I have to do.”

Chrysalis smiled indulgently at this, then she clicked her tongue, her Queensguard striding to either side and watching with disgust and amusement as Marina trembled and shook. The Changeling Queen narrowed her eyes, and then she ordered: “Surrender, defect. You cannot defy your Queen.”

Marina felt herself wanting to bow. She felt the immense pressure of countless years of inbred instinct and training and conditioning weighing down on her, but she resisted it as she forced herself to do the unthinkable and meet Chrysalis' eyes as she whispered: “You are not my queen.”

The Changeling Queen's eyes widened slightly, and then they narrowed as the Queensguard snarled on either side of her. But again, Chrysalis gestured sharply at them, ordering them back with a movement and the natural power she had over all Changelings. All but the one in front of her, who faced her with a tremble, as Chrysalis said coldly: “Very well, Marina. If that is your choice, then so be it.”

Chrysalis stepped forward, and Marina gritted her teeth, dropping to a defensive position. The heart of the Hive pulsed as shadows and shapes shifted around them: she could sense the clipped in the darkness, and drones, and soldiers. She could feel enemy and friend, and all of them shocked that this one Changeling was daring to stand up to her former Queen, to the tyrant and monarch who ruled their Hive by right of blood and might.

And perhaps Chrysalis sensed it too, as she tilted her head ever so slightly to the side before she snorted and straightened, saying icily: “Then allow me to personally give you the honor of reminding you why I am Queen of this Hive, and what the price for betrayal is.”

Queen Chrysalis stepped forward, a venomous smile on her lips, already exerting tremendous psychic pressure on Marina to shackle her Changeling powers and blunt her senses, and all Marina could do was steady herself as static sizzled in her brain and her body shook with fear., even as she channeled every last bit of her will towards defying the undeniable, refusing and refuting the monarch's mental dominance, her mechanical limbs holding her up even as the rest of her body threatened to fail.

They watched one-another, readying themselves: the peerless Queen, and the runaway, the defect, the Changeling who had changed.

Chrysalis attacked.

Epilogue: A New Change

Epilogue: A New Change
~BlackRoseRaven

In a few short months, everything changed: well, alright, that was a bit of an exaggeration, the Changeling thought. But everything had changed, for her, even if so much of Equestria was still the same as it had always been for everyone else, with the addition of a few new residents.

At first, only a few dozen Changelings had been willing to leave the safety of the Hive. But it was better that way, though: no one had really stopped to think what it would have been like if a few hundred Changelings suddenly marched into Canterlot. A few dozen was much easier to explain, and much less threatening.

Celestia had been gracious in accepting them into Equestria: volunteers had taken Changelings into their homes, to share what comforts and warmth they could. And to keep an eye on them, of course, to see what the Changelings would do.

It had taken a few days, but the Changelings settled. And after they had shown no signs of hostility, Celestia had her Luciferin begin work on a project in the mines beneath Canterlot: an artificial Hive, where the Changelings could live in comfort.

Scientists, including Octavia, visited the Hive alongside diplomats and soldiers, studying its structures and how they could best replicate them. Chrysalis made it a point to ignore them as much as possible, and the Diamond Dogs that were still lurking around the Hives were disgusted and wary... and clearly going to be a problem, if they weren't dealt with.

But Diamond Dogs were creatures of greed: they didn't work with the Changelings because they wanted to, but because of the spoils that had been promised them, and how 'strong' the Changelings were able to make them by taking away their pain and replacing it with anger.

So when they were offered a bounty of treasure to simply go away, the Diamond Dogs took this with little hesitation. Some of them wanted more, but as their pack thinned and the pressure built, they quickly turned tail and fled into the wilderness with whatever little bounty they could take.

It took less than a month for the Luciferin, with the assistance of the Changelings who had transferred to Canterlot, to construct a working, if crude, artificial Hive in the expansive tunnels beneath the capitol. It included sleeping quarters, food and resource storage, and Equestrian touches like entertainment areas and false windows looking out onto painted skies and horizons.

But it worked. It had given the Changelings a home of their own, and more than that, a place to store the love they were learning to passively harvest from the ponies they mingled with during the day. They were changing: no, more than that, they were evolving, as a culture and as a race.

Chrysalis still didn't trust them. But the prospect of a Hive right beneath Canterlot, and food when their current love production was so miserably low and her people were starving... it was too much of an opportunity to pass up. And considering she had already been humiliated by her Changelings slowly deserting her, by the Diamond Dogs being paid to leave by Equestria, by the diplomats and soldiers and engineers who were constantly coming and going, marching all over her Hive, disturbing everything from the clipped to the exterior of her royal quarters...

What choice did they leave her with? But she was stubborn, proud, and a little vain, and so Celestia did a bit of personal maneuvering: she visited Chrysalis herself, and asked, as humbly as she could, for a personal favor: for Chrysalis to come and spend some time in the Hive her Changelings had created for her beneath Canterlot. She didn't promise peace or prosperity: she knew those things wouldn't work with Chrysalis. Instead, she confided in this mother of hundreds that her children missed her, and were lonely without her guidance, and Celestia needed her help because there was absolutely nothing that even she, the mighty Princess of the Sun, could do for those Changelings without her.

Chrysalis wasn't stupid, but that was precisely why she took Celestia's offer: she knew that Celestia was giving her a chance to keep her pride, just as well as she knew they were doomed without help. It was still nearly impossible to get her to agree, and Celestia had to go far above and beyond her own terms to cajole Chrysalis out of hiding, but all the same, the Changeling Queen finally escaped the gilded prison she had crafted for herself, and emerged into daylight for the first time in... who knew how long, really?

Had it been months? Years? She didn't remember. The feeling of the sun on her body had almost hurt. But she had heard the voice, really heard the voice for the Hive, for the first time in even longer than she had been locked away beneath the earth, whispering to her, telling her to keep going when she wanted only to turn back.

But the Voice was there, and it was like an old friend had come back, the only friend she had ever been able to trust. So she went on, with her Changeling escort, to the new Hive, and she was amazed by the work they had put into it, by the health of her Changelings, and most of all, by the reassurance from the Voice of the Hive that this was as it was meant to be.

The Changelings had changed. But that wasn't a bad thing. And they welcomed her and looked to her for counsel, and maybe they didn't need her as much as they once had, but maybe that, too, was a good thing. Maybe she was going to have a chance to watch her children grow up: maybe she could finally be the mother she had never had a chance to be, for all the years she had spent giving birth to armies and droves of Changelings.

Now Chrysalis had to change, too, and that was frightening: but so many of these changes were changes back, maybe, to the way they had been before. Even if they were going to try and maintain some kind of alliance with these ponies, that didn't mean they were going to stop being Changelings: but they were a different sort of creature now, they had the potential to evolve, to be... symbiotic, instead of predatory.

Oh, there was so much lost love in Equestria!

And the ponies were naive. Good-hearted and kind and terribly naive.

She didn't have to conquer them, though. She wanted her Changelings to prosper, and maybe that meant playing along with the ponies for now, rebuilding, forging new alliances... what were a hundred years or so of playing nice for a culture like hers, though? Changelings could change, evolve, grow. She had been reminded of that, and she wasn't going to let herself forget it again.

Chrysalis meditated on this as she sipped absently at a drink, her eyes wandering around the restaurant she was in. She was seated up on the second floor, where she could look down at all the ponies below, just the way she liked, with her Queensguard on either side of her. She was sure they put her up here in the private, fancy section because she and her entourage were probably bad for business, but... she couldn't really pretend she minded at all.

She liked looking down on ponies. She liked the sense of superiority. She liked the deference. And maybe she liked it when she saw the ponies trying to sneak looks up at her, here on her balcony, with awe and curiosity.

They had gone from fearing her to admiring her in the space of a week. Naive, stupid even! Well, they were lucky she had no plans to take over Equestria anymore. Out of pity, really... and what would she even do with ponies? They were worse than cattle. Let Celestia deal with all that nonsense; all the better that way, really. She could stay in the shadows, and keep her people fed without the ponies ever being the wiser.

She sighed, then glanced up as a Changeling approached her. A drone, but very distinct to her, and not just because of his prosthetic limbs. He was a Changeling who had caused her a lot of trouble, after all. Sure, everything apart from those robotic legs looked the same these days, from his insect-like blue eyes to his standard drone carapace and unremarkable features, but Chrysalis knew all of her drones, but all the same, he was different from the other Changelings. He had done something different, something more, which she had to be grudgingly thankful for.

Very grudgingly.

Chrysalis watched as the drone approached, and he sat down across from her with an awkward smile, bowing his head.

“Marina, Marina.” Chrysalis said wryly.

“Ankaru.” the drone corrected awkwardly.

“Yes. Ankaru now, I know.” Chrysalis shrugged, straightening and eyeing the drone for a few moments in silence.

“You were... right, I guess. I was hiding from myself. But you were right for the wrong reasons.” Ankaru said quietly, looking up with an awkward, small smile, hesitant and nervous, but... yes, there was still a conviction there. It was just that he had changed, too: he had been through a lot of confusion, and... “I was always me. I didn't have to be a mare to still be... me. I didn't have to stop being a Changeling to not be... me. I... well, I don't know.”

“Of course you don't. You're a drone.” Chrysalis stopped, looked away, then sighed as she tapped a hoof against the table, adding grudgingly without returning her eyes to Ankaru: “But you didn't need to know, either, did you? You did what was best for the Hive. You showed these ponies what we Changelings are... and that we can change. And that we are... not as different from them as I would like to believe.”

Chrysalis sighed, turning her eyes back to the drone as she muttered: “But I suppose that's my fault. I should have raised you all better.”

Ankaru smiled awkwardly at this, and then he lowered his head and murmured: “I'm really grateful that you decided to give us a chance, though. That you-”

“Enough.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes, raising a hoof before she dropped it on the table and said finally: “I didn't do it for you and the ponies. I didn't do it because I want things to change, either. But... you were right that we are Changelings, and we can change. That we must evolve.”

Chrysalis stopped, sized Ankaru up with one eye, then added: “But I was right about everything else. About you. About the ponies wanting to control us and keep us under them. About the fact you all still need me. I was just... right in other ways than I thought I was. I told you it would end up like this, Ankaru.”

The Changeling drone couldn't help but smile a bit, rubbing at one of his prosthetic legs as he glanced down before he answered: “I know. I'm still not sure who I am, or even what I am. Everyone else seems to know the answer to that more than I do, though, and they're all... willing to help. That means a lot. It means a lot to all of us that you're willing to... um...”

“Relax.” Chrysalis said, for lack of a better word, even as she scowled a little. But it was true: she had promised them, silently, that she would no longer resort to clipping or other methods to exert control and influence over her Changelings. She would... allow them to evolve. To change. To grow. And at times, to rebel a little, to make waves. To make mistakes.

They were interrupted for a brief moment by a waitress who came and asked if they would like anything to eat: Ankaru deferred to the Queen, who shrugged but ordered for them both. Some small treats: nothing fancy. She found pony food was still a little rich for her tastes.

The waitress left, and they sat for a while, surveying each other. Chrysalis could read Ankaru's emotions: hesitance, uncertainly, instinctive affection, worry, and ah, was that a touch of pride? She thought it was.

She studied Ankaru for a few moments, then asked: “How are the clipped doing?”

She knew the answer, but it filled the silence, and Ankaru gave a big awkward smile as he looked up and said: “Very well. They're adjusting to their new lives inside and outside the Hive. They're... waking up a little, I think.”

Chrysalis allowed herself to smile briefly before she asked: “How is your... relationship?”

It made her uncomfortable to ask that. And while she would say it was because of the laws of the Hive, because Changelings could not love, because of a thousand other reasons, the truth was that it made her feel strange to acknowledge the fact that maybe some Changelings were finding 'love,' whatever that was, and it meant they were moving away from needing her, and needing the Hive.

She didn't like that thought very much.

Ankaru laughed awkwardly and blushed, then he confessed: “It's difficult. I mean... Moonbeam doesn't like Changelings at all. And going from me being a mare to me being... not a mare... it's been a lot of adjustment for her.”

“Then why adjust? Why not move on?” asked Chrysalis, honestly curious.

Ankaru chewed on his lip for a few moments as he lowered his head, before he said finally: “I don't know. She... loves me. She seems to really honestly love me. And that gives me the strength to carry on. It's hard sometimes, and we have to take things slow and all, but-”

“Why don't you move on?” Chrysalis interjected.

“Because I love her.” Ankaru answered without hesitation.

There was silence for a few moments, and then Chrysalis shook her head before she said softly: “Changelings are supposed to feed off love... not be slaves to it. I don't know if I should be pleased or if I should be frustrated that in spite of everything I've done for you, everything I've taught you, it's still all come down to this. Love. What are you, a pony?”

Ankaru shrank a bit under the scolding, but then he bit his lip before he rose his head a little and answered: “I don't know what I am. I just... know what I feel. And it makes me stronger.”

Chrysalis thought about this for a moment, taking it as more than just some metaphor or nonsense. Love. What if it did make them stronger, when it was given willingly, not stolen or siphoned through subterfuge or savagery?

Chrysalis mused on this, then she glanced up at Ankaru, who was looking at her as if waiting for some kind of answer. But the Queen of Changelings only shrugged before she said: “This is your story now. You have to find the answers for yourself.”

“But... what about you? What will you do?” Ankaru fretted, looking at her with something like worry. And Chrysalis smiled at this despite herself: this, the only Changeling in a century to dare to raise a hoof against her, let alone strike her,and here he was, concerned about her well-being. Worried about what she was going to do with herself.

“As it so happens, I can change too.” Queen Chrysalis answered, as the waitress returned with their food, and Chrysalis waved a hoof as she dismissed: “Enough. Eat your meal. I didn't call you here to be nice or hear about your life, I just wanted an update on the clipped.”

Ankaru, once Marina, smiled despite himself at this, nodding a little and bowing his head politely. But they had said more than enough to each other, he thought, and he was glad for it. It helped him feel like he had done something good, if not exactly right.

But whatever happened, he knew they would survive: they were Changelings. Changelings could change to survive the outside world, no matter how harsh or different it became. But no matter how they evolved or grew or transformed, Ankaru thought, it was all to protect themselves and those they cared about, and so that all the important things, everything that made up the core of who they really were, would never have to change.

Changelings could change.

But inside, he was just fine, the way he was.

Change

Chapter Nine: Change
~BlackRoseRaven

Marina clashed against Chrysalis, every fiber of her being trembling with fear and effort as she struggled to push back against the power and authority of the Changeling Queen. It took every ounce of her will, every last bit of strength she had, and all she could do was slow the coming of an inevitable defeat.

Her mechanical legs whirred as her horn ground against Chrysalis' own, before she gasped as she was driven back by a flash of emerald hell. She barely had a chance to catch herself before Chrysalis strafed a laser of emerald energy towards her, and Marina narrowly stepped backwards, shivering in pain, unable to hide how tired, how beaten, how exhausted she already was.

Her true self was bare to the world: a Changeling drone barely standing on prosthetic limbs, her body quaking under the immense power of the Changeling Queen. But she was the only thing standing between Chrysalis and her friends, and she would be dead and damned long before she allowed a tyrant like her to get her hooves on them.

She would die before she let them feed on Moonbeam again.

Chrysalis laughed at her as she steadied herself, and then the Changeling Queen grinned and leaned forwards, taunting: “Do you really think that-”

It wasn't Marina's preferred tactic, but she leapt forwards and slammed a metal hoof as hard as she could into Chrysalis' face: and yet even her metal legs felt weak, and she felt herself pulling the punch in spite of all the anger and the determination from the years and centuries and eons of Changeling instinct that stormed back against her like a tidal wave.

But it was still enough to knock Chrysalis backwards with a gasp of shock, the Queen rolling in an ungainly mess head over hooves before she managed to catch herself, skidding painfully to a stop. She mouthed wordlessly for a moment, then reached up and wiped a trickle of blood from her nose, staring down at this in disbelief at the stain for a moment before she snarled and looked up, furious.

“Stay back.” Marina whispered. She trembled as she set herself, but she set herself all the same. She felt strength returning to her bruised and battered body: there was no way she could ever completely throw off Chrysalis' control over her, perhaps, but... enough.

Enough for what, though? There was no way she could defeat Chrysalis, and they were in the heart of the Changeling Hive. Say she did somehow get past the Queen, what then? The Queensguard would be waiting for her, and they would be ruthless and merciless.

Past them? Diamond Dogs. Past them? Tundra and forest, for miles and miles. How long could she keep going? What was she even hoping to do?

Chrysalis glared at her, and Marina glared defiantly back, bringing herself back to the present, the here and now. She would just do whatever she could, whatever she had to. That was all she could focus on right now.

“Hey, I... I got your back.” Spike said, and even though his voice trembled, he was there beside her, afraid but ready.

“You don't have to.” Marina said, and she smiled a little, keeping her eyes on Chrysalis as the Queen surveyed them both with disbelief and disgust. “This is... my problem.”

“It's all our problem until we get out of here.” Spike answered with a brief smile, and Marina gave the smallest laugh at that before she nodded once.

“A drone and a baby dragon?” Chrysalis snorted in contempt, narrowing her eyes at Marina as she gave a cruel grin, but she was more on guard now. Marina knew she wouldn't get another free punch in: the Changeling Queen wouldn't make the same mistake twice. “I'm not surprised you can't even fight on your own. But bringing in a child to fight for you? That's low even by my standards.”

“They're my friends. They're the entire reason I'm here today: the entire reason I am who I am.” Marina answered bravely, forcing herself to meet the dominating gaze of the Changeling Queen. “They've given me-”

“No. You've never been 'given' anything by them.” sneered Chrysalis as she glared balefully down at Marina. “You've only taken. You take what they offer and you manipulate them into letting you take more. That is what we are, as Changelings, that is what we do and all we can do.

“But I can see a defect like you must have been easy to manipulate. Tell me, all these 'gifts,' how many of them came with a price?” taunted Chrysalis as she pointed at Marina's prosthetic legs. “Did those come from the kindness of a pony's heart, with no strings attached? Somehow I find that hard to believe. And now here you are, saying you're going to 'rescue' your 'friends,' and all you're really doing is being their perfect little soldier.”

Marina shook her head, starting: “That's not what this-”

“Really?” Chrysalis snorted in contempt, smiling callously as she straightened and drew her eyes distastefully over the drone and her friends. “Please. I know what Equestria has been plotting. Your last attack on the Hive wasn't enough, so now they're using you rejects as an excuse to move in and destroy this last, final hope. How does it feel to be a traitor, Marina? Is it worth giving yourself a name?”

“No!” Marina burst out, shaking her head vehemently. “We were just going camping, and-”

“Camping? And you happened to wander into this territory?” Chrysalis snorted in contempt, glaring at Marina with madness and cruelty in her eyes. “No, I know what's going on here. You and the other malcontents aren't satisfied with simply escaping from my control, with... denying the very purpose you were born for! I have spent my entire life struggling to keep you and the ailing Hive alive, and I will not allow you to destroy everything I have built with these hooves!”

Chrysalis rose a hoof with a snarl, and Marina trembled before she whispered: “You built this Hive on the backs of slaves.”

“They are my children. And I have spent my lifetime nurturing, protecting, teaching each and every one of you.” Chrysalis retorted. “You're not a pony. You're no monarch, either: you're only a drone. You will never know the pain or the anguish that goes into being forced to keep all of you in line: how hard it is to direct and protect all of you. Because look at what you've become without my guidance, Marina... an upstart brat who doesn't even recognize when she's being used.”

“I want to protect the ponies. Without your... your tyranny, I've become my own person!” Marina shouted back. “Is that what you're afraid of? That we don't need you?”

Queen Chrysalis smiled icily, then replied coolly: “And is that really you talking, drone, or is that the personality of the pony you absorbed? You seem to forget yourself: who, and what, you really are. Do you need a reminder?”

Chrysalis' horn lit up with eerie green malevolence, and Marina trembled before she steadied herself and replied quietly: “I know who I am. You... you can't take that away from me.”

“We'll see about that, drone.” Chrysalis waited only a moment longer before she snapped her horn down, and Marina winced as she leapt out of the way, narrowly avoiding a green lash of energy that seared the earth. It made Marina's whole body itch to see, sent painful trembles through her form, and she knew that if that energy hit her, the physical agony was going to be the least of her problems.

The Queen wasn't just feared for her physical superiority, after all: drones, workers, soldiers, all of them obeyed out of much more than just authority and concern for corporal punishments. The Queen had a crueler and more effective way of handling Changelings that tried to shake off her control, something even worse than clipping: erasure.

Another lash of energy snapped at her, and Marina dodged backwards before she ducked behind one of her metal limbs when that energy rebounded, gasping as she felt the aftershocks of the nightmare magic sear at both her body and mind.

Chrysalis wasn't playing around: a direct blast of that mix of psionic order and dark magic would make her Changeling mind consume itself, turning her into nothing but a blank, drooling statue. Even if the clipped lost almost everything that made them them, they could still function, still work, still provide, and Marina knew that they could still think and feel and somewhere deep inside them, was a spark.

This blast would suffocate that spark. Would turn her into an empty husk, to be sent to execution, or left as a living statue as a reminder to all other Changelings why you did not cross the Queen.

Another blast shot at her, and Marina dodged it before Spike suddenly ran forwards and spat a tongue of searing flame at Chrysalis. The Changeling Queen recoiled in surprise as the flames shot past her, then she snarled and slashed her horn out, walloping Spike backwards with a surge of telekinesis.

Marina leapt forwards, but Chrysalis half-spun and smashed Marina down with another blast of magic before her horn started to glow: but before she could gather the power she needed, a spark of magic hammered into her face and exploded in a flare of light, disorienting her.

Chrysalis hissed and blinked her eyes several times, rubbing at her face before she cried out in pain when Marina slammed a mechanical hoof into her, knocking her staggering. She swung her horn up, slashing across Marina's face, but even as the drone was knocked backwards, Marina still swung her other hoof up and lashed it across the Queen's jaw. Both Chrysalis and Marina hit the ground on their sides, Chrysalis staring in shock, Marina breathing hard and trembling and afraid, and yet Marina was the first to roll to her hooves, even with the deep gash through her muzzle from the Queen's horn.

Chrysalis quickly rolled to her own hooves, backing up a step before she gritted her teeth, looking back and forth as the crowd that had gathered murmured around them. Her Queensguard were stoic and glaring, but the other Changelings were shifting uneasily, whispering amongst themselves, maybe even doubting her... “Silence!”

The crowd shrank away from them, and Chrysalis turned her furious eyes to Marina, a bit of green blood leaking down her face from her torn lip, her vain beauty marred by the bruising that the mere drone had left on the face of a Queen. “I have had enough of this nonsense! You will bow down before me or I will kill you and all your friends!”

“I will not.” Marina said quietly, trembling, but raising her head as high as she could, meeting the Queen's eyes and forcing herself to not give in, to not shrink away. “I will never bow to you.”

Chrysalis snorted in contempt, and then she visibly gathered her strength: the force of magic Marina felt was tremendous and terrifying, but she also felt her friends there, gathering beside her: Moonbeam, breathing hard and unsteady, but focusing as much magic as she could; Spike, his teeth grit, one forelimb wrapped around his chest, but ready to leap forward.

“Get her.” hissed Chrysalis, and her two bodyguards immediately leapt forwards: Marina prepared herself to meet them, even though it would be impossible to-

Apple Bloom leapt over them, a blaze of yellow that smashed into one of the Queensguard fearlessly. He stumbled with a grunt of shock before gasping at the force of her rear hooves smashing into his chest, denting his armor and knocking him back before Scootaloo vaulted Apple Bloom and brought both her hooves down on his head, knocking him down with a cry.

The other Queensguard leapt at Marina, but was intercepted by a bolt of magic from Sweetie Belle that struck him in the face and disoriented him, knocking his tackle off course so he only hit the earth. Before he could get up, Spike was on him, harrying him with his claws, the Queensguard roaring as he shoved up to his hooves, trying to shake the dragon off.

Marina saw her chance and took it, leaping past the Queensguard, barreling straight for the Queen. Chrysalis snarled at her, lashing her horn down, sizzling tentacles of green lightning ripping through the air, but Marina dodged between what she could and forced herself to barrel through the rest, green lightning ripping against her body and limbs before she leapt at Chrysalis with a roar.

Queen Chrysalis flinched backwards, her eyes widening, her jaw gaping, and for a moment they were frozen together: the drone, one metal hoof reaching, reaching, body high in the air, determined and so very afraid but in spite of that, pushing forwards against her foe; Chrysalis, leaning back, frightened, quailing, for perhaps the first time in her life forced to doubt herself and her strength and superiority.

And then Chrysalis' horn gave a hellish flash, and Marina was knocked flying backwards, hitting the ground and rolling violently to land in a crumpled heap. Her mechanical limbs sizzled and crackled, machinery screaming as they twitched before falling still and silent; as still and silent as Marina, as she smoldered faintly from the dark magic.

Chrysalis shifted almost uncertainly on her hooves as her Queensguard threw off their attackers, but fell into ready positions instead of trying to fight. The Changeling Queen chewed on her lip for a moment before she seemed to realize she had dropped her usual demeanor, hurriedly clearing her throat and raising her head as she snarled: “Do you see? That is what happens to those who challenge me! Now bring me that traitor!”

The Queensguard moved forward, but Spike leapt in front of Marina, and he was joined by the Crusaders as the little dragon said through his trembles: “No.”

Both Queensguard only sneered: they began to move forwards, but then hesitated when Spike breathed out a gust of fire and the ponies with them readied themselves. Chrysalis growled behind them, but they only hesitated more when their Queen didn't move forwards, even as she barked: “Well, get them!”

Moonbeam crawled over to Marina, trembling a bit as she hugged the Changeling, looking down at her silently before she rested her head against Marina's own. She wasn't any good with words and she didn't believe that love would win the day; she had lived a life that had marred and maimed the beliefs that so many ponies held so near and dear to their hearts.

But Marina made her believe there was a reason for it all, that maybe love couldn't always triumph, but it sure could put up one hell of a fight. Marina was someone she believed in... and even now, she believed in her, as she wrapped her forelegs around the Changeling and trembled a little, a tear running down her cheek and sliding down over the Changeling's muzzle like a caress, as she whispered: “You stupid idiot.”

She leaned down, pressing her forehead against Marina, wishing, willing her love to the Changeling. Memories ran through her mind of all the times they had together: not necessarily all the times they had enjoyed, but she had never been the kind of pony who tried very hard to enjoy life, now had she?

But she remembered every moment Marina had been there for her, how she'd always done all the little – and big! – things that she had demanded without hesitation. Moonbeam always told herself that was because of Marina's programming, but that was because she had always been so cruel and reckless with Marina's feelings.

There had been fear, sure: Moonbeam had a hard time bringing herself to trust a Changeling. That was only an excuse, though: it wasn't like, in time, she hadn't started to trust Marina all the same, no matter how many nibbles in the back of her mind asked whether or not these feelings were real, or if Marina was just manipulating her to feed off her, was just abusing the fact she had stolen her memories, eaten deep of her emotions.

What was love, though? You could say it was someone knowing you inside out, or you could say it was someone good enough to manipulate you into doing things and making you think it was your idea all along. It was something all ponies believed was good and true and perfect, but Moonbeam knew in reality love was an awful, imperfect thing that all too often attached you to precisely the wrong pony. Or Changeling, as they case might be.

She loved Marina. She hated that she loved her, almost as much as she hated that Marina so clearly loved her back.

She didn't deserve Marina. She was full of hate and bitterness and anger, and all she ever did was blame Marina for her own failings, no matter how often Marina threw herself into danger to protect her: no matter how many times Marina dragged herself across coals just for the chance to see her smile.

“You stupid idiot.” Moonbeam repeated, trembling as she squeezed Marina tightly up against her, burying her face into Marina's mane as she whispered: “Don't leave.”

“What are you waiting for?” Chrysalis growled. “Get them!”

Her Queensguard both started forwards, then paused for a moment when Spike vomited out a short blast of flame before he started to warn: “Don't take another-”

One of the Queensguard flicked his horn almost disdainfully, socking Spike in the belly with a shock of telekinetic force that knocked him backwards with a gasp of pain. He clutched at his stomach, tears forming in his eyes at both the pain and his powerlessness: some dragon he was.

The Queensguard advanced, but the Crusaders moved forward to block them, Apple Bloom shouting: “You better just back off right now before-”

The second Queensguard lashed out with his horn, then scowled when Sweetie Belle blocked the blast of force with her own magic, the unicorn gasping at the effort but then steadying herself as Scootaloo leapt forwards and growled: “We're not afraid of you!”

“They are children, can't you even handle children, or do I have to do this myself?” Chrysalis snapped in exasperation, but Spike thought there was a surprise, a nervousness in her voice: was she afraid of them? Was that it, that beneath everything else, the mighty Changelings that preyed on them were really just frightened of them?

He snorted quietly, then rose his head and asked: “Then why don't you?”

A deadly silence fell as all eyes focused on Spike, who looked past the Queensguard and directly at Chrysalis, daring to meet her toxic, furious gaze as she hissed: “What was that?”

“I asked why you don't do any of this yourself.” Spike repeated, forcing himself to meet the Changeling Queen's eyes, to not shudder and give out under the hate and anger and fury. “But that's because you can't, can you?”

Chrysalis stomped forwards, hissing furiously as her horn lit up with malicious magic: “Listen to me, you lowly worm, I am-”

“You're nothing but a coward. You make them fight for you and hide behind them!” Spike retorted, raising his head higher. He could see her anger, her frustration, and more importantly, he could see the hesitance in the milling Changelings. The lack of surety. The Queensguard were furious, sure, just waiting for the order, but Spike knew he had one chance here to play his cards right, to say the right words, do the right things.

He was no brute dragon. He could never win through strength alone. But there were other ways to win than through physical force, he knew: maybe he could still help get them out of this. All he could offer was a distraction, but he prayed that was enough.

Chrysalis opened her mouth, and Spike said, in the driest voice he could manage: “Let me guess, you're going to tell your soldiers to 'get me.' Because again, you can't do anything yourself.”

The Changeling Queen gnashed her teeth together as the Queensguard both began forwards, then winced when she snarled: “Stop!”

They looked uncertainly back at their Queen, and Chrysalis snorted as she gestured them disdainfully aside, growling: “Fine, dragon. If that's what you want, then I'll let you have the privilege of experiencing the strength of a Changeling Queen.”

Chrysalis stepped forwards, imposing and imperial, and Spike stepped out as well before he winced when Apple Bloom grabbed his shoulder and asked sharply: “What are you doing?”

“Trust me.” Spike said quietly, looking back at her pointedly, and Apple Bloom bit her lip before the dragon said in a firmer voice: “Stay back with Marina. I'll take care of her.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” Chrysalis asked in a disgusted voice, snorting loudly before she rose her head high, her eyes locked on the little dragon: but she was appraising him, he thought. She had already been forced to fight once today, and she was bruised, injured, and unsure. But she was also vain, and angry, and for perhaps the first time in her life, her crown was in danger.

They both shifted on their feet: Spike took a breath, and Chrysalis narrowed her eyes as her horn gleamed with eerie green magic. But there was a faint flickering there: Spike recognized that. Both the physical toll and the effort she'd been forced to put forth had drained much of her magical reserves: as powerful as she was, she wasn't used to fighting, either.

Spike wasn't exactly in any shape to put up much of a fight himself, though: he had his chest puffed out and his head high, but it took all his strength just to keep that farce of pride going. He was no match for Chrysalis: even if he had been at his best, he knew that he wouldn't be any match for the Queen of the Changelings.

But Chrysalis didn't know that.

The Changeling Queen eyed him coldly, but warily: Spike glared back at her gamely, puffing out a bit of fire before he asked: “What are you even trying to accomplish, anyway? If you can't fight us, then you know that Princess Celestia is going to squash you flat.”

“I beat Celestia once, as you might recall.” Chrysalis retorted, but there was a flicker of doubt: she had, yes, but that had been after feasting on almost limitless love for who-knew how long? And no one could forget-

“Yeah, and then Princess Cadance and Shining Armor flung you and your entire army sky-high.” Spike retorted with a wave of one claw. “Besides, do you really think Celestia will pull her punches this time if she catches you?”

“Celestia won't even get the chance-”

“Well, you're right about that.” Spike interrupted casually: he knew there were few things high-powered ponies hated more than being interrupted, and the less serious he was while doing it, the more it seemed to sting. “I mean, you aren't even going to get a chance to see her, that's what I mean. Equestria's soldiers will stop you long before then. Assuming you even get that far...”

“You're assuming a little too much, child.” hissed Chrysalis, glaring furiously down at the dragon as her magic sparked along her horn.

“Am I?” asked Spike, stepping forwards aggressively, and he was rewarded by Chrysalis hissing and flinching ever so slightly. “Please. You know as well as I do that you're drowning, and all you're going to accomplish is getting your own people either killed by ponies or subjugated by these Diamond Dogs who have moved right in and made this place their home.”

Chrysalis snorted in contempt at this, but she licked her lips before she shot back: “You think I don't have control over those mongrels? You think that your ponies are strong enough to defeat me, to kill me? My, you have a strange idea of your ponies and their strength, little dragon. But I suppose, having spent all your life under their hooves, you would have no real idea of true strength.”

He was stalling, but Chrysalis was stalling, too: Spike realized that, and he knew that his only real advantage here was that Chrysalis didn't seem to recognize that he was just as happy to postpone a fight as she was.

So he put on the angriest face he could and pointed a claw at her, snapping: “No, Chrysalis, you're the one who has no idea what these ponies are really capable of! Or did you forget what they did to Marina?”

He pointed back at her, at the Changeling who was being cradled by Moonbeam, the unicorn breathing slowly as she silently poured her love, her strength, into Marina's body. Chrysalis' eyes narrowed at this, and for a moment Spike feared that he had just made a mistake by drawing her attention to the Changeling before the monarch snorted disdainfully and returned her eyes to the dragon. “Oh yes, very brave, very strong of them to have captured one of my injured drones and turned her into a wind-up toy. Please. That doesn't intimidate me. And whatever you're trying to achieve, it won't work. She's been erased.”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked uneasily, frowning, and Chrysalis smiled thinly.

“Precisely what I said.” Chrysalis replied, disdainfully flicking her mane to the side. “Changelings are born into specific roles, with specific skills. Some can learn and copy anything you ponies can do. Some are strong and built for combat. Others are leaders and officers. But each and every one of my Changelings, from the lowliest drone to the highest-ranking official, all of them are genetically and mentally linked to me. They depend on me, their Queen, for everything: but just as easily as I can give them strength and life and inspiration, I can take that all away.”

“What did you do to her?” Spike shouted, and he wasn't just trying to stall her anymore.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Chrysalis retorted. “That drone had forgotten who and what he was, with all this make-believe about being 'Marina,' about being some kind of pony. So I did the only thing I could: I took all those false beliefs away. He'll be happier now... or well, he'll return to his purpose now. He'll be content.”

Spike gritted his teeth, trembling for a moment before Chrysalis stepped forwards, regaining some of her old confidence at the ripple of fear that ran through the room, at the way even the Queensguard bowed their heads slightly at her strength and power, at the control she bore over each and every one of her children, her subjects, her slaves. “Maybe you ponies and baby dragons have time for happiness. But we Changelings do not. We don't have that luxury, any more than we can treat emotions as anything but what they are: food. I will do what is best for my Hive, what is in the greatest interest of my Hive, no matter what it costs me-”

“That's a lie.” Spike interrupted, gritting his teeth. “You're not interested in what's best for these Changelings, and you never pay the price for your decisions, they do! You're only interested in what you think is best for yourself!”

“I suffered more than you can imagine! I was injured as badly as any other Changeling when I was launched out of that castle!” Chrysalis shouted back, stepping forwards aggressively. “I am their Queen, and without me they'll all die! I have no choice but-”

“There's always a choice!” Spike retorted as he stepped forwards, so they were almost pressing nose-to-nose. “And they don't need you to live or guide them, they're capable of making their own decisions! Marina helped me out more times than-”

“That drone was doing nothing but manipulating you to feed off your emotions.” Chrysalis snapped. “Your pride, determination, that sniveling idea of 'friendship,' all of that and more! Of course he worked hard to make ponies like him, think he was smart, accomplished: how else are my Changelings supposed to feed? But they are nothing!”

Silence fell, and Chrysalis frowned as she felt the uneasy shift through the ranks: even the Queensguard hesitated, and that made her uneasy. She tried to hide that, knowing she couldn't afford to seem weak, like she wasn't in full control, or that- “Do you even know your own people?”

Spike looked up at her with... was that pity? She hated it. She hated the way the emotions stung her, baring her teeth at the little dragon before he said quietly: “You need them more than they will ever need you. Is that what you're afraid of them finding out? That they don't need you?”

“And who will guide them?” sneered Chrysalis, gesturing off to the side. “Who will teach them, command them, bring them together, feed them? Who will give them purpose? The ponies? Please. Do you know what other races use Changelings for? Spies, assassins, and circus freaks. I will not leave my people in the hooves of people like you, who turn them into monsters, who will abuse and twist them and fatten them on false friendships while they make them into... into war machines!”

She pointed at Marina with a trembling hoof, but Spike only asked: “So which is it? Are you afraid of them or are you afraid for them? Are they nothing to you or are they everything? Are they your children or your servants?”

Chrysalis glared, grinding her teeth together before she spat: “I don't have to answer to you. You would never understand, anyway!”

“If anyone could understand, Chrysalis, it's me! I'm not a pony, if you haven't noticed.” Spike snapped back, gesturing at himself before he said quietly: “I know ponies. I know what it's like to be pushed around by them. I know what it's like to feel like you're... beneath them, less than they are. Like they're just using you. But I also know they're good people. A people who will offer even their worst enemies shelter. A people who want to help and make friends before enemies.

“They helped Marina. They saved her life. And they let her choose what she wanted to become. Have you ever given your Changelings a choice?”

Queen Chrysalis stared at Spike for a few moments, and then she snorted in contempt before she said quietly: “It is not their place to make decisions. They aren't capable of deciding things for themselves. That is my job and my curse. You will never understand, Spike: not you, not any of your ponies, what it's like to be a mother to a hundred thousand children and to be responsible for every single one of them for the entirety of their lives. To know that without you, they would be lost and unable to cope.”

“Not every single one of them.” Spike answered, glancing back at Marina, before he gave a brief smile when Moonbeam sat back with a soft gasp, and he saw Marina shift.

“No. Some Changelings leave, or are banished. And they inevitably die, or come crawling back.” Chrysalis answered dismissively, shaking her head with a snort before her eyes narrowed as Marina shifted again. She looked up, beginning to smile thinly as Marina slowly shifted up to her hooves. “And others simply return to being empty vessels.”

Marina looked up blankly at Chrysalis for a moment, taking a few slogging steps forwards before she stumbled to a halt beside Spike. Then she suddenly shook herself before she gritted her teeth and looked up with defiance, snapping: “No, all you did was remind me who I really am!”

Chrysalis gaped in shock, staring in disbelief as Marina steadied herself: every breath hurt, every nerve of her body was on fire... but she was alive. Alive, and herself, in spite of everything she had been through. Chrysalis' toxic magic had ripped through her mind, and there had been a darkness... but Moonbeam's love had reminded her of who she was, had cut through that emptiness that had filled up her mind and brought her back.

She was awake. She knew who she was. And oh, she was still terribly afraid, but she saw Chrysalis' hesitance, and she knew that now was the only chance she might ever have to put a stop to the Changeling Queen. But this wasn't a battle she could win through physical force. She had tried that and almost gotten herself and everyone else killed.

But there was another way.

“I don't need you.” Marina said clearly, but she wasn't just speaking to the Queen: she was speaking to all the Changelings present, the crowd that was watching and whispering in the background. “I don't think any of us really do. Maybe we did once, but we're Changelings: we change, we adapt, we evolve.”

“You... how did you...” Chrysalis stared, and then she shook her head quickly before snapping: “No! That's not... that's impossible!”

She was flustered, confused, but Marina knew it wouldn't last for much longer. So she pressed her advantage while she had it, shouting: “No, I'm still standing here, aren't I? The ponies saved me, helped me... you're the one who made them our enemy! Who decided they were food, not our friends!”

“That is the way it has always been!” Chrysalis shouted angrily back, but her eyes flicked back and forth, as if she couldn't comprehend that this Changeling was still arguing with her, let alone somehow standing after the magic she had hit her with. “You... I... if they were your friends, then why did they send you-”

“They didn't send me!” Marina interrupted, and she didn't have to exaggerate her frustration. “I was just here on a camping trip! Yes, Equestria has helped me, and I've helped them in return... because you're the one who keeps attacking them who keeps kidnapping ponies, who keeps... did you ever even think that if you tried to talk to them instead of attack them, then maybe they might help you?”

“We don't need any help!” Chrysalis spat. “We are a proud race that-”

“Is going to die if you keep this up.” Marina finished, and Chrysalis flinched, which told Marina... “And you know that. You know that, and you're still... doing this. Is it worth it if we all die?”

Chrysalis snorted, but as she opened her mouth, a meek voice asked: “Are... are we all going to die?”

Chrysalis blinked slowly, then looked over her shoulder, at the drone who had asked the question. She looked at him, before her eyes shifted up, uneasily surveying the other Changelings that were milling closer now. They were anxious and afraid, and... questioning.

“No. Of course not.” scoffed Chrysalis, but that was all she could think to say.

“We could.” Marina said quietly, and all eyes turned to her, and Chrysalis spun around with a snarl, but she didn't dare to do anything. And Marina realized that this was her weakness: this was the only way she could defeat Chrysalis.

“We won't!” Chrysalis shouted, but there were murmurs, whispers, and she snarled as she spun around and shouted at the crowd: “Enough! Do not question your Queen or I will have you all clipped!”

“Yes. I can see how much you love us.” Marina said bitterly, before she added sharply: “How can you clip every Changeling here?”

“My Queensguard-”

“There's two of them. There are many more of us!” Marina said bravely, raising her head high. “And you... you have no power over us! No more power than we give you!”

Chrysalis shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her, darting back and forth even as she snapped: “I could erase all of you! This is madness, Marina, all you're going to do is get these Changelings-”

“Free. Freedom is worth any price.” Marina answered, shaking her head before she stepped forwards, and Chrysalis flinched. “Give us a chance to be free. Give us a chance to make friends with these ponies. Give us a chance to change.”

Chrysalis snarled, then she snapped: “Queensguard!”

Both Queensguard stepped forwards, but when they started towards Marina, the crowd of Changelings shifted, one of them blurting out: “No! Leave her alone!”

“Her?” Chrysalis blinked, then she snapped: “She is a he, a drone, and nothing but-”

“She's afraid of you, of all of you! She's defenseless without her Queensguard!” Spike shouted as he stepped forwards, into the path of the advancing bodyguards, and both of them snarled before one looked back in surprise as a Changeling half-stumbled out of the crowd.

Immediately, the Queensguard turned and ran in front of the Queen, glaring at the mass of Changelings, but they saw Chrysalis flinch, and the Queensguard's eyes widened slightly as several other Changelings shifted forwards.

A shift was more than any of them would dare to do in the past: on those few occasions that the Changelings had stood up to the authority that controlled them, or tried to resist, it never took more than a Queensguard or two to put them back down. But now, those Changelings weren't simply backing down once challenged. The Queensguard saw it, and Chrysalis saw it, and their hesitance bolstered the Changelings.

“We... we don't want to be your slaves!” shouted a Changeling, and others chorused in agreement.

The Queensguard both hesitated in their roles, then backed towards Chrysalis, protecting her from either side as Marina shouted: “Tell everyone! Show the Hive we don't have to be afraid!”

“The Hive... the Hive obeys me!” Chrysalis said, but she sounded almost frantic as she looked back and forth, snarling but afraid. “The Hive-”

“All Changelings hear the voice of the Hive, and the Hive says we need to do what is best for all Changelings, not just you.” responded Marina, shaking her head sharply. She could feel the Changelings getting angrier, rowdier, and Chrysalis was getting more desperate. But something made her hesitate to push them over the edge.

Of course she hesitated: if they rioted, if they turned on their Queen, it could be a disaster. Especially with the Diamond Dogs still present. She didn't want a violent uprising: she wanted... she didn't even know what she wanted, apart from her friends to be safe, to get out of here in one piece, and maybe, well...

She closed her eyes. She listened to the voice of the Hive, if only to reassure herself that she was right. And no, that voice wasn't Chrysalis, was it?

It wanted peace. It wanted the Changelings to be strong. It wanted everything Chrysalis said, but it didn't just want Changelings to serve: it wanted them to be fulfilled, happy, and to grow. To be more than they were.

It wanted Changelings to survive on their own terms, but those terms didn't have to be as predator or slave.

Marina lowered her head for a moment as the noise around her built: she heard all of them, shouting at each other, shouting over each other. And even though Chrysalis was in many ways a tyrant and a villain, she knew that she was doing what she thought was best.

The Hive told her what to say, and Marina rose her head and said it without thinking: “The only person who can stop this is you. If you want to prove we need you, then you have to be willing to let go. To show us... you can change, too.”

Chrysalis snarled, then gritted her teeth: but even though it was anger she displayed, Marina felt something else. She saw the way she trembled, the way she shifted herself, before she suddenly snapped: “Fine! If you think you know best, then...”

Queen Chrysalis rose her head, then she said finally: “Then you can take responsibility for all this, drone. If you think these ponies are so pure and good, I'll give you this one chance to prove that they are. But all you're going to bring us is misery.”

“I won't. I know I won't.” Marina replied quietly, shaking her head before she gave a brief smile. “I can prove it. I can prove it right now.”

Chrysalis frowned, and Marina took a breath, focusing herself. Her neural circuits seemed damaged, but she was still able to feel her connection to Octavia, even if it didn't feel quite as stable as usual. “Octavia, can you hear me? Overwatch?”

There was a static fizzle, and Octavia's voice came in with a sigh before she muttered: “I hope you know what you're doing, Marina.”

“I do.” Marina smiled a bit as she looked at Chrysalis, who was glaring at her balefully. All eyes in the room seemed to be on her, like they expected some kind of miracle or damnation: Marina didn't think she could actually deliver either of those, but... “You have our coordinates, right?”

“Yes...” Octavia said dubiously, clearly already not liking where this was going.

“Send a transport. Maybe a diplomat to negotiate. I... I want to show the Changelings we mean no harm to them. They need help.” Marina said.

“We don't need your help!” seethed Chrysalis, glaring at Marina, but Marina looked back fearlessly, unfazed. Now she knew what Chrysalis reminded her of: a wounded animal, afraid, lashing out at everything that came close...

“Maybe you don't. But your people do.” Marina said quietly.

“I'll dispatch a transport immediately. I'll need you to meet us out front, though: I'm sure it would be reassuring to see the hostages going free and all.” Overwatch said politely.

Marina nodded, then she looked at Chrysalis, but before she could speak, the Queen growled: “No. Don't think about it. You've done untold damage to this Hive already. I will not relinquish the little food we have left.”

Marina bit her lip, before she looked down in surprise as Spike said quietly: “That's fine. I'm sure you'll choose to give up whatever prisoners are left here willingly once the ponies supply you with love of their own free will.”

“Impossible. It's... a trick.” Chrysalis shook her head, then argued: “No, even if you were telling the truth, this is nothing but a way to... to domesticate us! To control our harvests and our food supply, to ensure that our nation can never be as great or powerful or whole as Equestria! You traitor, don't you realize that all you're doing is driving forward our own subjugation?”

She had such force, such belief, such fear in her voice, that the Changeling mob that had originally sided with Marina hesitated. But Marina smiled, shaking her head as she asked: “How many Changelings are left?”

Chrysalis was silent.

Marina looked at the Queen, and then she looked down, feeling her pain, and pain in her own heart, over what that had to mean. “I see. But the choice isn't just freedom or death. The thousand... the few hundred of us left alive don't have to choose to become the ponies' slaves, or die. I don't know what you imagine they're like, what you believe, Chrysalis, but the ponies aren't the monsters you think they are. They're not animals. We don't have to be animals, either, where it's predator versus prey and only one walks away.

“We can learn. Adapt. Grow stronger.” Marina almost pleaded, even as she smiled at Chrysalis before she silently touched her own chest. “Even a drone like me can become... something else. Something more. We're Changelings. We'll survive. We can always survive. We just have to... change.”

“Ridiculous.” Chrysalis murmured, but her eyes shifted away as she shook her head briefly. “You don't know what will happen.”

“Neither do you.” Marina countered.

Chrysalis scowled, but she seemed to recognize that she had lost this battle. So instead of arguing, she simply turned to the mob of Changelings, saying bitterly: “You'll all see soon enough. We are not made for a pony's world. But I won't stop you, if this is what you want. Marina, take your... friends, and leave. Take my babies, my family away from me. Teach the ponies all about the intricacies of the Hive and make us nothing more than pests to them instead of predators, the rulers we were supposed to be. I won't stop you. If the Hive won't obey and my own children want to rise up against me, I won't stop them from making this mistake.”

Marina remained silent, and when Spike started to argue, she reached up and touched his shoulder, quieting him. There was nothing left to say, as Chrysalis looked back over her shoulder, judging them coldly, callously, before she snorted and walked away, her Queensguard falling in uneasy step behind her.

But she wasn't afraid. She believed in ponies and their friendship. She believed their races could co-exist, could benefit each other.

She smiled briefly over her shoulder as she looked back at the Crusaders and exhausted Moonbeam, and then she took a breath before turning her eyes back ahead as a few nervous Changelings came forwards. She put on her best face and straightened up, even though she wasn't a leader, she wasn't a queen, and said: “Help me get my friends out of here, please. We have to get ready. I know you're all scared and it'll be hard at first, but...

“We can do this, together.”