Just outside of Ponyville an idyllic grove sits nestled in the midst of the forests. To view the scene would be to breathe in the relaxing air of nature at it's most quaint and relaxing. The thick squirrel-filled trees nearby stop most abruptly, as if by design to make way for a lush, green park, almost a perfect elipse of cushiony-comfortable springtime grass, dotted with the occasional flower, lazily swaying in the comforting breeze. Cozy beneath the grass, the deeper green of a thick bed of clover and it's pleasantly delicate white flowers invites those lucky enough to find this area to lay down for a afternoon nap- or maybe to roll and laugh together with a special somepony. In the center of it all, a small pond, maybe only 50 feet across is a scintillating jewel in the midst of the woods. It's waters shimmer with the sparkling light of the overhead sun. Nearby in the sandy soft soil surrounding the crisp cool of the water, a flat-topped stump sits just under knee-high, unassuming and practically begging to be sat upon by travelers where they could rest weary limbs, take in the view and ponder the unponderable.
In this peaceful tableau- A single dark blot stands out like the artist dropped their paintbrush...
The changeling sat on it's haunches with a sigh. It's chitinous black lips were down-turned. The ivory of it's fangs reaching past it's chin like piercing stalactites did little to conceal the frown. The furrowed brow and slumped, haggard shoulders projected a air of bleak, hopeless sorrow...
The pitted ebony chitin of it's hooves sank into the soft and sandy soil. It looked around the scene, lamenting it's beauty. It felt no comfort at all in what it knew to be a perfectly gorgeous scene of tranquility and somehow that only compounded it's own miseries.
It's a common misconception among ponies that changelings have no hearts. This was simply untrue. Of course they did. At this very moment, this changeling held a cratered hoof to it's chest, feeling the steady beating of it's heart. The hard ebony chitin of it's barrel wasn't enough to dull the heavy aching thumping.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Just beneath the surface of it's armoured exo-skeletal hide, it's heart pumped providing a steady bass-drum rhythm to the somber, poisonous music of it's personal tragedy.
It's another common misconception among ponies that changelings cannot feel- or at least they felt nothing but the darker emotions of evil- jealousy, fear and hate. This was also not true. Though it was true that changelings fed on the love of other beings, that did not by any means imply that they, themselves were devoid of that emotion- or any others. This changeling felt many things right now. Inside it's matte-black carapace, guided by the war-drum beating of it's heart, a dozen- no, a score of feelings pushed and shoved in a scrum, all fighting to snatch the ball of it's consciousness for a moment of control of it's thoughts.
If it were to be honest, jealousy WAS somewhere in the middle of the brawl. It's sickly poisonous talons were felt, clawing at it's stomach. Confusion seemed to be the heaviest contender of the lot, pushing aside even self-loathing. Hope was laid out on the field, flat on it's shell and knocked stupid by a sucker-punch from several of the insecurity brothers.
The changeling's compound eyes glimmered with a soft teal light. Changeling eyes were often very unsettling to ponies. Whereas a pony's eyes had colorful irises and large black pupils that showed so much emotion and focus, changeling eyes were a single color, only the faint luminous shimmer of a faded white point of focus might indicate what they were actually looking at. The morose changeling turned it's attention to the stillness of the waters. With a sharp snap of it's forelimb, it launched a pebble into the pond and studied the splash and ensuing ripples as they made their way home to it's place in the soil.
It felt a sense of kinship with that pond. Much like the changeling, it had a form when at rest, it's true shape. That form had a beauty of sorts for those who could appreciate it. Surely it did. When pressed, it could flow and change to something else, casting out it's peaceful vision for a splash of violent action , altering into a dozen-dozen forms as ripples moved across it's surface. Always shifting and changing to fit it's environment but never really escaping what it actually was...
The teal eyes looked down to the surface of the pond at it's reflection as the ripples slowly relaxed, gradually shifting it's funhouse mirror antics into a still and perfect recreation of it's horned, aggressively angular countenance.
The changeling stared into it's reflections eyes for several silent minutes of contemplation. The two looked back and forth in a wordless conversation, the hooded flaps of their ears tilting. Their heads leaning to the side in query. Their irridescent wings hummed softly in a grumbling backdrop to their confused introspection.
Whatever decision they reached, in the end, they both paused. A pressure began to finally make it's way up from deep within their chests to their throats, scaling to heat their cheeks and clutch at their eyes with stinging claws. Their lips turned inward, quivering. The biting down of their fangs did nothing to stall the growing whispered squeal from within their throats. Those teal eyes narrowed, fighting to hold their loathing gaze as a luminous green mist began to well in the hissing pressure behind them. Finally, shoulders shuddering into a restrained shriek, the changeling began to sob.
It is an extremely unfortunate misconception among many ponies that changelings don't cry.
They most certainly can.
This changeling wasn't just crying. It was weeping. It wept with all the sorrow and confusion of any creature living with the slow bleeding painful death by the hollow emptiness of a broken heart.
The green shimmering tears streaked down the sharply angled chitin of the drone's cheeks. Like luminous raindrops of magic and pain, they fell from the creature's teal eyes, trailed down it's sharply angled black cheeks and dripped from it's chin to disperse into the waters of the pond. The pitiful creature howled in misery, a deep sound of pain, tearing out of it's chest and echoing into the glen. Though it's voice was a strange disharmonious, raspy thing, it's wailing carried with it all of the pain and desperation of any creature, any pony...
"Is it... SO wrong... that I love her..?"
The scratchy, rust-flavoured voice fought through the tears as a strained whisper. Speaking out-loud to nopony, to the wind, to itself, to the world of squirrels and frogs, the changeling swallowed hard on it's sobbing and continued.
"What makes it so wrong...? Is it because I'm just a changeling...? Just a drone...? Am I not... A-am I not GOOD enough?"
The small black creature sniffled and wiped at it's cheek with a pitted hoof, dragging a bubbling trail of snot from it's muzzle. It coughed and sputtered as a hysterical laugh erupted- the absurdity of it's situation, the audacity of a fate too heavy to hold aloft with it's misery alone.
In a flash of green flames, the changeling disappeared. In it's place sat a pony- the lovely songstress mare Countess Coloratura- a vision of elegant alabaster beauty in a form-fitting violet and black lace mini-dress. She continued to laugh. The tears of luminous green ink staining her soft ivory cheeks with every mad laugh, shudder and hiccup. Her color-streaked raven mane waved about as she tossed her head back and belted out an aria of powerful, incredulous sorrow...
"I AM JUST A CHANGELIIING!
I SHIFT MY SHAPE FROM TIME TO TIiiiIIME!
I WANT YOU TO KNOW THE REAL ME!
FOR YOU, I'LL PUT MY HEART OUT ON... the...."
Her gorgeous voice quavered to a creaking, cracking halt as her head slowly drooped. Her lustrous blue eyes opened and looked into the reflection in the pond. They were rimmed in red, barely holding back the pain in her heart as she struggled to contain the tears.
She was a very good infiltrator, extremely good, better than any in the hive save for perhaps the Queen, herself. The disguise was almost perfect. Her eyes were even rimmed in a soft black mascara which was beginning to run in streaks of grey staining the streams of softly luminous wetness on her cheeks.
...but that was all that it was- a disguise.
The two ponies, mare and reflection, stared at each other in silent horror. The green tears impacted on the ponds surface, sending tiny ripples to shake and shimmy the changeling's partner in sorrow. They formed a misty green fog where they dripped to join the water and diffused, almost making it appear as if her partner-pony were seated in a knee-high lime-green fog...
Aghast at what she saw, her lips started to turn inward and quiver again. She held up her hooves and looked to them, shaking her head as she slapped against her barrel, clutching at the reflective violet fabric of her dress.
She hissed with a sharp intake of breath. Her teeth clenched. Her shaking lips turned into a snarl of loathing, disgust and rage. Horror gave way to a sense of stomach-churning revulsion. The mare's face twisted and wrinkled into a fist of shame and self-loathing. She brought both her hooves up and violently slapped into the water with a splash as she howled into wracking sobs again. Green flames curled about her, lapping at her soft, beautiful body as her shape struggled back and forth between the illusory songstress and the angular black sharpness of it's natural form. Again and again, she pounded into the waters, dredging up mud and earth, splashing herself with torrents of brown bile from the pond's underbelly. Coloratura. Changeling. Countess. Changeling. Pony. Changeling. Mare. Changeling...
Pony...
Her outburst died down as she again hung her deep raven mane and sobbed into silence.
With a deep wet sniffle she wiped at her muzzle. "Why? WHY?!" She asked the teary songstress in the water. The reflection had no answers, only offering up a mirror of her confusion and hurt. "I can understand what she needs. I- I could give her-" she coughed, green sputum spattering into her hoof- fighting for the words. "I could BE anything she wants.... ANYthing." She shrugged her shoulders with a shake of her head, a hoof touching her chest as if to convince her reflection of the earnest devotion in her heart.
"She wants a stallion?" A flash of green flame erupted and the countess was gone- replaced with the armoured, square-jawed heroic countenance of the prince-by-marriage of the Crystal Empire, Shining Armor. "I can give her a stallion." The ivory unicorn wiped at his cheek, still desperate to fight back the stinging green rain from his eyes. "I can love her like THAT..." He sniffled, brushing the navy strands of his spiky mane from his teary eyes.
"She wants a mare?" Again, the guard pony was wreathed in green flames, replaced by the smaller stature of his lilac-toned alicorn sibling, Princess Twilight Sparkle. "I can do THAT." She glared at her reflection in the water, her lips pursed in anger at the mare looking back to her. She rolled her magenta eyes and huffed, sniffling her tears aside with a disgusted snarl and looked away, closing her eyes and biting back whatever venom was in her throat.
After a few seconds of silent brooding she locked eyes again with the mare in the water. "She wants something more athletic?" Another Whoompf of green flame and Twilight had become the colorfully-coifed cyan pegasus, Rainbow Dash. She waved her hooves in the air with a broad smile and tossed back her spiky rainbow mane. "TAA-DAAAH!" She waggled her hooves with a large, exasperated grin at the mare in the water.
"Maybe something more demure-?" Another eruption of green embers and Rarity sat, coyly fluffing the wavy beauty of her graceful violet mane with a dainty hoof. "Why, dahling, I am your MARE!" Rarity squealed in faux-delight and tossed her mane about, showing off the lustrous bounce and shine. The violet waves partially concealing her tear-streaked cheeks, she batted her eyelashes seductively. "We could go out on the town together- hit Saddle Row in STYLE!" With another flash of emerald fire, Rarity was now clothed in an extravagant gown. High-collared and ruffled with a sleek, shimmering maroon fabric which clung to her soft and enticingly curvaceous form. The unicorn made a pouty expression of rose-painted kissy lips at herself, admiring the jewels on her ears and the choker on her lithe, inviting neck.
Her eyes suddenly were ablaze, mischeivious and narrow. "Or maybe you want something a little more-" WHOOMPF! Another eruption of green immolation and Rarity had been replaced with the tall, slender unicorn, Sassy Saddles, now clothed in a scandalous outfit of shiny black vinyl, straps and buckles, complete with a saddle on her backside and a small peek-a-boo mask, sporting a riding crop in her teeth. "FREAKY!" She growled playfully at the mare in the water and they shared a ruby-rimmed smile of their enticing lips. She took the riding crop from her teeth and slapped it between her hooves, rising to wiggle her thonged rump at her equally saucy reflection. With a sharp slap, the crop cracked against her flank and she moaned, biting her crimson lip and looking over her shoulders to tease her aquatic partner. "Oh, punish me... I'm a Ba-a-a-ad little pony..." She whimpered, tracing her flanks with the leathery instrument. The kinky mare returned to face herself in the water and eyed her figure skeptically. She rubbed a vinyl-gloved hoof at her chin.
"Noooooo. Not you. No... You want something more..." With another eruption of emerald light Sally was gone, replaced by the ruby-mane and blocky black bespectacled visage of the cream-coated mare, Moondancer. "...Bookish." She raised a hoof to adjust her glasses, pushing the spectacles up on her bridge and giving a shy smile. She shrugged her shoulders and attempted to shrink further into the floppy high folds of her baggy turtle-neck sweater. She gave a awkward attempt at a pouty-lipped flirty smile. "I've never tried my hoof at romance... but I've read numerous volumes on the subject..." She bit at her lip in her best attempt at a adorkable display of failed 'come-hither' eyes. "Hmmmmn..." In another flash of green light the turtle-neck sweater was replaced with the vinyl outfit she'd worn as Sally Saddles. The clip which had held up her mane was likewise gone, letting her ruby and lavender tresses cascade down to frame her bespectacled face. She blushed at herself and again bit at her lip, coyly hiding her face behind her hooves in a much more steamy display.
With another flash, Moondancer the sultry vixen was gone, replaced with the changeling's true form. It wiped away at the last of it's tears, it's cheeks mostly dry by now.
"I could- no. I WOULD give you anything you wanted, ALL my heart... it's yours." The black chitinous hooves were held out to the reflection in the water, imploring, pleading. "PLEASE.. just TELL me what you want. Whatever it is that you need. PLEASE... Let me BE That for you... I SWEAR, I can be that for you..." With a heavy sigh and a ripple of green light the fin along the back of it's bare, black crest was gone. A mane of gentle teal cobwebs matching the emerald sky tones of the changeling's softly shimmering eyes tumbled down from it's scalp. The new mane gently framed the changeling's shoulders and back, adding a very feminine sort of beauty to it's dark, sharply angular visage. It ran a hoof through the mass of softness and huffed.
"LOVE you, HONOUR you, CHERISH you, WORSHIP you.... I... I will be your SLAVE...." The changeling's voice was now that of a young mare, a soft, almost musical thing, dripping with the depth of her emotions and pleading for understanding- for affirmation of her feelings. "Just allow me to be the thing that makes you happy..." With a gleam of green light across it's compound eyes, new eyes appeared to take their place. These were the eyes of a pony, just as large as her natural eyes but now they were white, with sparkling green irises, twinkling like gemstones and large black pupils that sparkled with the gleam of her own reflection in the pond. She blinked, her eyelashes lengthening to wave back at her conversation partner.
She grimaced and sharply waved a hoof in curt defiance. "Oh but no. It's WRONG. Wrooooong. No. No, you can't LOVE her. Noooo, not HER. Not YOU. That's unnatural. That's sick. You-" The two pointed at each other, shaking their pitted hoofs accusingly. "YOU'RE sick. You disgusting, twisted little thing... SICK to even THINK such a thing, you lowly little freak... " The changelings glared at each other, hissing and darting their scarlet forked tongues from behind ivory fangs. "Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak! Freak!!" They sneered, with each repetition of the insult, spitting it with more venom. "You're just some ugly little changeling worker and she's a-" She trailed off. "She's a... a..." Her heart pounded and her cheeks made to blush veridian as if aflame with the thoughts of what SHE was.
"I know how other changelings see you..." She winced and shook her head. "see US..." Her brow knit in a desperate sort of yearning. "But I don't. No. Not me... To me? You're SO much more than all that to me." She shook her head. "You're so... so..."
'Beautiful' came to mind. She was unbelievably beautiful, like no other mare in the world. 'Strong'. She was strong in every sense of the word. 'Brilliant'... 'Stunning'... 'Gorgeous'... 'Amazing'... 'Inspiring'... 'Magnificent'...
'Perfect'...
She was perfect.
The changling hung her head low. Her beautiful gossamer mane caught the light breeze and whipped across her ebony face. She felt ashamed, embarrassed and utterly alone.
Something caught her eye. By her right hoof, a leaf floated from the waters, a simple green leaf- with a simple little passenger...? On this makeshift boat rested a snail. The small slimy creature was a mottled collection of browns, sepia tones and umber. It's eyestalks extended as it exited the leaf and began making it's way towards the changeling's hoof, leaving a trail of it's sticky slime in it's wake. The changeling regarded this little visitor with a brightening, if not weary smile. She scooped the tiny creature up and brought it to eye level. She felt a certain sense of odd familiarity with the creature. They were both chitinous... well, sort of. They had shells, as it were. They both secreted slime. They were both more of "it"s than being what ponies would consider traditionally "male" or "female". They both also had a certain beauty all of their own, or at least she felt so.
Her smile broadened a bit as she watched the eyestalks poked about. "You don't think I'm just a stupid, ugly drone, do you little guy?" The snail didn't respond, of course- unless she considered it slowly coming about in it's forward progress to turn sidelong by 15 degrees a response. "No... you don't think that. Not you... You know that us "freaks"... we gotta stick together." She nodded at the tiny creature with a chuckle, booping at it with the tip of her nose. "Yeah. Buck the lot of the haters. It's just you and me, little buddy." She placed the little creature on the curve of her horn and sighed. Her new passenger seemed to take the change in location and elevation in good stride, working it's little slimy way upward like a back-packing woodlands hiker.
She sighed and reached back to her shell. With a fidgeting hoof she probed about under it's lip until she managed to fish out her treasured possession. THIS was the object she always took with her on every mission, every infiltration, every impersonation, every incursion in hostile territory... a photograph. She carefully held the worn paper in a pitted hoof and leaned back until she came to rest on her shell against the nearby tree stump, tucking her irridesent wings up under the protective casing of her body's armor. She huffed, blowing a lock of her silken green mane from her face to examine the picture. It was a little old, a little faded but that barely mattered. With a blush and a warm, loving smile, she traced a hoof along the contours of her beloved's face. She had long ago memorized it's every curve, every line. That face, that gorgeous... beautiful... face... that mane... so long, delicately flowing like water from a majestic vista... those eyes... oh those EYES...they had burned their way into her heart, her very soul, if she had such a thing. That smile haunted her dreams and stirred every feeling she could name in every part she had, especially the ones she shouldn't. "Wrong" or not, it set her insides ablaze and her heart pounded every time she thought of the gorgeous mare. For her, she could do anything...
She gave a chittering yawn. Her weeping had tired her out. She folded her hooves across her barrel and tucked her chin against her chest with a sniffle, crossing her hind legs at the knee. She plucked a single blade of the long grass and placed it between her fangs, letting it lazily droop out with a smirk. Another flash of green flame produced a black stetson hat which she tilted forward to cover her eyes and shade her new little friend from the sun.
As she'd just said, the freaks had to stick together, after all.
She relaxed into the soft patch of grass and allowed the peace of slumber to claim her. The inky fingers of rest crept over her consciousness and turned her mind to fog as she hugged the picture close to her heart. Holding happily to her dream, she muttered as she dozed off.
"g'night... ff....m'm.... I... love... you..."
The wind whipped playfully across her chitinous form, pawing with curiosity at the photo in her forelimbs. As she dozed off, chittering to herself in the chirping changeling tones like a giant cricket, the photo waved in the invisible grasp of the breeze as it mischeiviously snuck close for a peek.
In her loving embrace the photo smiled back to her.
The image of their mother and master.
Queen Chrysalis.
---fin---
Author's Note
Within the context of the MLP cannon world this would take place after the events of "To There And Back Again" but would also assume that not all of Chrysalis brood were transformed into 'Love Bugs' like Thorax and his ilk. Also, that Chrysalis didn't quite go coo-coo-nanners.
Being a top-level infiltrator, Oubliette has done a great many things for the safety and continued function of her hive which anypony would find abominable, yet within her culture are considered the norm. Just as it is considered normal in her Hive to revere the mother of them all, the queen. Yet Oubliette reveres her in a very particular way- one which is taboo even by their culture.
However, right or wrong, love hurts.
