An Apple a day makes the Changelings all stay
It was a Perfectly Ordinary Day in Ponyville™, and the meaning of that phrase was a bit different these days. Barely five years ago, the innocuous sight of Zecora threw the town into a panic with Applejack included. Changelings were an evil myth, griffons were criminal troublemakers, yaks were all but unknown…
The change was good, though it took some getting used to. Applejack had reservations like everypony else, but figured the Element of Honesty had better be a dang good role-model and welcomed all newcomers with open hooves. Even the most skittish and quarrelsome earth ponies followed her lead, and been rewarded with friendships they never dreamed possible. Ponyville had become a small crossroads thanks to Twilight’s school as tourists, diplomats, and others trickled in and out, coming from everywhere from Yakyakistan to Hippotown.
Changelings were still an odd sight, though, none-the-least on market day. Applejack smiled as one approached, displaying none of the shyness that now characterized their race. The changeling beamed back, unembarrassed by her fangs. Her body was yellow and her head bright orange, and she easily mouthed two bits from her saddlebag and tossed them to the counter.
“Hi, Applejack! One bag. Give me jonagolds if you have them, anything red if you don’t.”
“Sure thing,” Applejack said. She began loading the apples, belatedly wondering at the casual name-drop. But Applejack was famous, hard as it always was to believe.
She set the bag on the counter, grinning. If this changeling wanted to be friendly, that was more than alright with her. “There we go! Good to meet you, what brings you to our little neck of Equestria? You visiting Ocellus?”
The changeling opened and closed her mouth, then burst out laughing. “Oh! Oh I get it, yeah. My bad.”
Orange magic flared around her, replacing the changeling with a yellow, carrot-topped earth pony.
“Sorry about that. No wonder you seemed confused.”
“Golden Harvest?” Applejack asked, speaking the name of her lifelong neighbor. She narrowed her eyes. “Hey there, you. It ain’t nice to impersonate other ponies.”
“Nopony’s here but me, Jackie-Wackie.”
Applejack blinked at the childhood nickname – or rather, the name absolutely no one but Goldie ever called her.
The changeling smiled lazily, mouthing the apples into her saddlebag. “I’m not replacing anyone. I just don’t need to hide anymore.”
“Hang on,” Applejack said. “What about your parents?”
“What about them?” Goldie yawned. “I mean, if you’re thinking about baby-snatching or whatever, don’t worry. They’re changelings, too.”
“They’ve had that carrot farm for a hundred years!”
“A hundred and fifty-seven,” Goldie sternly corrected. “My pappy helped yours during the blight, remember? I guess it wasn’t completely altruistic, but you can’t deny our families have gotten each other out of some tight spots.”
“Altruistic?”
“Yeah.” Goldie caught herself. “Or rather, no. Kind of? Yes, helping Sweet Apple Acres pull through was what any decent neighbor would do, and I’d do it in a heartbeat for anyone here. But you all in particular, you and your apples. If it wasn’t for your family we’d have sold ourselves to Queen Chyrsalis years ago, and to heck with that.”
She shrugged. “Anyway, good seeing you. Harvest season for the carrots, you know. I have to trot.”
“W-wait.” Applejack stumbled over a million questions before spurting one out. “What’s this about my apples?”
“You grow them with love, Jackie-Wackie. Duh.”
Goldie snickered. “Heck, you used to brag about it all the time, how you named your trees and read them stories and all. See you later.”
She turned and began walking away, and had taken several steps by the time Applejack’s overclocked brain managed to produce another question.
“Wait! How many more changelings live here?”
“I dunno,” Goldie called breezily over her shoulder. “Fifty, a hundred? Maybe more, I never really counted.”
Before Twilight came, Ponyville had about two-hundred residents.
Market day went as it always did. A slow morning, mostly farmers buying from each other. A brief rush as ponies bought lunch or crammed in shopping at noontime breaks, then a steady drumbeat as workplaces closed and the market thrummed in earnest.
Darn near everypony paid Applejack’s stall a visit. Friends and neighbors, old schoolmates. Even other farmers bought her out by the bushel.
But that made sense, didn’t it? Apples were a part of any good pantry. Applejack ate them in some form or another every meal of the day, and she went to Goldie for carrots and Strawberry for strawberries same as they came to her.
She passed two bags over to Caramel, and collected four bits. Even Applejack would have trouble going through two bags of apples in one week.
...It was his usual. Not something she ever thought about before now.
Well. Applejack was always a grab-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of pony. No sense worrying or wondering when she could be getting to the bottom of things.
She went to town hall that Monday, and asked Mayor Mare to call a meeting. The old girl was nothing but accommodating. Some cross between Applejack being a valued member of the community and a national savior doubtless played into the smooth arrangements.
Applejack accepted the special treatment without pause, this time. Soon she found herself at a podium outside town hall, facing a sea of familiar faces looking up with happy expectation.
She grinned awkwardly, having forgotten to actually prepare for the moment. Of course. The mayor smiled politely behind her as Applejack stuttered out a greeting. “Um… hey, y’all.”
“Hi, Applejack,” the crowd obediently replied.
It was, at least, enough to get her rolling. “So, um… first of all, I wanna thank and congratulate you all. A lot of strange folk have wandered into town these past few years, and y’all ain’t been nothing but the friendly, loving Ponyville I grew up with. I’m right proud that nobody ever got it in their heads that folk don’t belong in Ponyville just on account of them looking different.”
Heads nodded. Some, very enthusiastically.
“And, uh, so I gathered then, that, um… some of y’all are changelings. And-and it’s okay that you kept it on the down-low. Celestia knows that would’ve been real scary five years ago. But if we’re really gonna put the past behind us, to take all that fear and lay it to rest for good, then I think it’s best if I know who you really are. Also if someone tells us ponies what’s really going on, because right now I’m powerfully nervous and got way more questions than answers.”
A ripple went through the crowd. Ponies glanced to their neighbors and shuffled uncomfortably.
“Come on!” Goldie shouted, then engulfed her pony form in orange light. “You heard the lady!”
At her cue, a rainbow erupted before Applejack’s eyes. Magic of every hue lit up the crowd, blurring into a white flare that set her to blinking.
When the spots cleared, fully half of the familiar faces had been replaced with reformed changelings.
No… closer to three-quarters. The remainder (mercifully including the other Elements of Harmony) stared to them with undisguised shock.
“Oh.” Applejack said.
She staggered back, brushing against Mayor Mare. Applejack gave her a weak grin. “At least you’re the same.”
The mayor blinked. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were talking to me as well.”
Silver flashed, and she became a tan changeling with a gray head. Still had the glasses and collar, too.
“I need to sit down,” Applejack mumbled.
Helpfully, Mayor Mare transformed into a chair.
“Never mind, I’ll make it.” Applejack took a deep breath in as the mayor resumed her changeling form. “I have so many questions.”
Mayor Mare smoothly stepped alongside her to share the podium. “And we shall answer. You – all of you – are our very dear neighbors. Perhaps we should have come forward with this earlier, but I’m sure you know the… political climate was not always as conducive as it is now.”
Applejack nodded valiantly. “Sounds good. All I want to know is who, what, where, when, why, how, am I going insane, is Equestria doomed, and oatmeal.”
“Ah.” The mayor’s wings buzzed a bit at her side. “Why don’t I explain everything, and you can ask for clarifications as needed.”
Applejack nodded again. The mayor cleared her throat with her usual squeaky pitch and began. “Very well. Yes, we are changelings. Unlike the former fascist maniacs to the far south, we have known for a long time that sharing love is the key to peace and prosperity. Hence, the color schemes.”
“Wait!” a pony screeched. Applejack vaguely recognized her as a visiting photographer named Shutterbug. “But Chrysalis the Beautiful is your rightful queen! You mean you were in a prime position to conquer Ponyville all this time and never told her?”
“Conquer?” Mayor Mare huffed. “We are Ponyville. As for Chrysalis, she can scream about being the queen of all changelings all she likes, it doesn’t make it so. We are Equestrians – rightful, loyal citizens of this land. This is our home, and has been for generations. Celestia herself welcomed our ancestors and made it so.”
“Really?” Applejack blurted.
The mayor gave a calm smile. “Yes. And why not? We are taxpaying, productive people with an active interest in a harmonious society where love flows freely. Yes, the unfortunate actions of Chrysalis bid us live secretly through the years. But with her now deposed, I think at least in Ponyville we may now give our neighbors the trust they deserve.”
“This still don’t make sense,” Applejack rambled. She gestured to three changelings in the crowd colored like the Flower sisters. “Daisy, Rose, Lily! Y’all mean to tell me that you’re shapeshifting infiltrators, but you scream and panic at a bunny stampede?”
“BUNNY STAMPEDE!?” Daisy shrieked, jumping into Rose’s hooves. “WHERE!?”
Rose screamed and jumped into Lily’s hooves, who screamed and jumped into Daisy’s. Which was all quite impressive until they collectively fainted.
“Not infiltrators,” Mayor Mare gently corrected. “Equestrians, same as you. Peaceful folk, who startle easily and fear change. We were as frightened as anypony when Zecora graced our village, wrong though it was.”
She gestured to Zecora. Who was now a gray and white changeling.
“Eh tu, Zecora?” Applejack said.
“I never wished you any harm, but merely to eat from your farm.”
Mayor Mare nodded. “Which brings us to you, Applejack. No, the population of Equestria is not three-quarters changeling. Ponyville is an exception, and you are the reason.”
“Why?” Applejack asked.
“Yeah, why!?” Shutterbug demanded.
“Love can be taken in multiple ways,” the mayor explained. “It must be generated, like any other energy. I am told King Thorax makes love by having his changelings do fun activities together, creating good feelings and happy thoughts which can be absorbed. Queen Chrysalis taught changelings to inefficiently leech it from unwilling parties because she is an idiot.”
“Nuh-uh!” Shutterbug yelled. “She almost took over Canterlot! She’s definitely really, really smart and beautiful.”
Mayor Mare ignored her. “Equestrian changelings use a variety of means, with one standing out above others. We may gain love by passing time pleasantly with friends, yes, but what if we’re too busy? What if they cancel, or it’s a bad day and they’re not really loving it? The solution is to do exactly as ponies do: eat. Specifically, eating food made or infused with love is amazingly filling and nutritious because it forms an actual solid in our bellies. And it can be stored, preserved, and imbibed even when alone.”
She gave a kindly smile. “Surely, Applejack, you can guess the rest. The Apple family, and your farm especially, take love and pride in every aspect of your work. You love the farm, the dirt, the trees, seeds, and apples. The whole process is so suffused with love we can feel it burst inside us with every crisp, delicious bite.”
Shutterbug’s eyes went wide, and she moved to the edge of the crowd and ran off.
Applejack hid a blush behind her hat. “Aw, shucks, they ain’t that special. Goldie grows awesome carrots, ain’t I right?”
Goldie piped up. “But I don’t read them bedtime stories, you apple-lunatic. I tried it once, felt like an idiot, and I swear they lost love in the process.”
“It’s not just us,” Mayor Mare confessed. “You know that big-time Canterlot chef? The one who pays for overnight deliveries because he refuses to cook with apples from anywhere else?”
“Yeah,” Applejack said, then froze. “No.”
“What can I say, Canterlot changelings are a picky bunch. But whatever, we’re all happy to pay two bits for what costs his clients twenty.”
Applejack pulled the hat from her face, chuckling in some mix of nerves and embarrassment. “Okay. Well, I’ve got a lot to unpack in the ol’ brainbox. But this all makes sense. Thanks for walking us through.”
“Tell me about it,” Scootaloo said, still very much a pony. But she seemed more intrigued then afraid, and other ponies began the awkward process of being re-introduced to close friends and neighbors.
Applejack chuckled again. “Good to know I, uh, feed you alright.”
Mayor Mare gave a light ‘hmph.’ “You are a farmer, yes.”
Somehow, her opaque blue eyes seemed to radiate warmth as they looked into Applejack’s. “You are, however, so much more than that. More than just a pony who makes our peaceful co-existence with your kind possible. Everyone here can tell a story of you: a broken roof, a broken leg. A sick child, a lost job, a missing cart, and there’s Applejack. Helping as best as she can even though she doesn’t need our love, has no inherent self-interest in the affection of others. Rather, she does so for no reason besides the simple fact that she is good.”
Applejack swallowed hard. The mayor’s gaze did not waver. “A good neighbor, and a good friend. You are a precious part of Ponyville, and we in turn cherish and protect you. Like when we sabotaged the Flim-Flam cider machine, and drove off the cabbage tycoons.”
“What cabbage tycoons?”
Mayor Mare blinked.
Then smiled, showing her fangs.
Odds were fair Applejack would be up all night pondering this whole business. At least it was out in the open, and not half as dangerous as she’d guessed. Breaking the news to the family would be tricky, but she figured it wouldn’t come half as hard as getting it herself.
Her pace slowed as she entered Sweet Apple Acres. Her siblings stood idle outside the barn in the dusky twilight, evidently waiting for her. They waved her over, then pointed inside.
“A problem, sis,” Big Macintosh said needlessly. The sound of chomping, tearing, and manic laughter could be heard within. Applejack creaked open the barn door to see Queen Chrysalis having apparently dumped a barrel of apples over herself. She lounged within the mess, taking bites out of apples while rubbing others against her chest.
“Any ideas?” Mac ventured.
“Yep,” Applejack said. But she smiled cagily. “Mac, go tell Twilight. A.B., get me the broom.”
The siblings ran off. Applejack adjusted her hat and stepped inside. “Howdy, Chrysalis. You doing okay?”
“Fool! I will crush you.” Chrysalis seized an apple and took three bites, making a ‘nom’ noise with each one. “All the love in these apples fuels me, empowers me! Equestria shall be mine for the taking!”
Applejack gave a light snort. “Yeah, okay. Look, Chrysalis, Twilight’s on her way. We can do this with the broom and the friendship lasers and such, or you could just buy the apples like a sensible pony.”
“I am a queen!” Chrysalis yelled, then belched. “I do not stoop to mere monetary transactions.”
“You’re broke, ain’tcha?”
“Your face is broke!” Chrysalis sneered.
“Why don’t we make a bargain,” Applejack said.
“Explain.”
Few would guess that Applejack had a good poker face. “All this talk about tasting love, feeling love… I ain’t a changeling, I can’t do that on my own. You can have as many apples as you want, and all you have to do is share the love from one of them with me. Call it curiosity.”
Chrysalis bit into another apple and chewed frantically, studying Applejack’s level expression. She swallowed. “I want all the apples.”
“Share the love, first.” Applejack let herself smile. “The love from one bitty apple, and it’s all yours.”
“Agreed, you fool!” Chrysalis leaped upright, crowing triumphantly. She lowered her horn, firing off a single pink circle at Applejack. “And when I control the apples, ALL EQUESTRIA WILL BE...”
She never finished the thought. The pink struck Applejack with all the force of a small rose slapping her chest.
More to the point, the act of sharing love wrought immediate transformation in Chrysalis. She looked down, surprised in the second before light engulfed her.
A shimmering green cocoon appeared in its wake, and in the next moment a new Queen Chrysalis emerged. She was bright pink and white, and smelled like the flowers of an apple tree.
Her hooves hit the ground, and she looked to Applejack with tears in her eyes. “I… I’m full? Oh goodness, I feel so… well, good! And bad! Applejack, I’m sorry I tried to rob you. And for stealing your apples. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
Applejack gave her a hug, and the reformed changeling queen hugged back for all she was worth. “Nah, sugar. You’re fine, and better than fine.”
She grinned. “Actually, stick around long enough for Twilight to show. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
