Author's Notes:

The Usual Disclaimer:

The following is a work of parody, and is protected as Fair Use under section 17 U.S. Code § 107 of US Copyright Law. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and all affiliated characters are property of Hasbro Inc.

I own nothing. All characters, settings and other belong to their respective owners. This is purely a fan-work with no intent towards profit, slander or harm towards the characters, settings or other, or their respective owners. If the respective owners feel that this fan-work in any way, shape or form threatens or besmirches their property, please let me know so that it be can be removed asap.

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A clopless chapter. *thbbbbbbt*

CHAPTER 14

“Hush now.” Chrysalis whispered, dragging a tattered length of cloth over her sleepy offspring, feeling the strange, squishy feelings grow inside her as one of the little black females cooed and grabbed at Chrysalsis’s hoof, the same feelings that plagued her and her Hive so often when it came to the three tiny, helpless broodlings, especially when one of the broodlings would do something the Ponies would call ‘cute’, like reaching up to rub it’s muzzle against hers or playing with each other.

She’d last felt such things around Shining Armor when she had been impersonating Cadence, but has simply attributed them to being extremely well-fed.

Chrysalis had since come to understand that those feelings were indeed triggered by her over-feeding on Shining’s love for Cadence, effectively tuning her entire body to feed off a single target, and thus making her incredibly vulnerable when her ‘host’ had rejected her outright, causing the internal injuries that were slowly killing her now.

Yet she had not received a single drop of ‘Love’ from her offspring, despite the simple, trusting love she could feel radiating off them towards her and the Drones.

If not for their green eyes and the beginnings of spiralling, twisting horns like her own on their heads, she’d almost swear they were normal Ponies.

But that was impossible. Changeling Queens like herself took in sperm from Male Ponies, or when such was not available, accept essence from their sexless Drones, and then laid eggs, either in specially prepared nests, or preferably within properly pacified female hosts if the egg in question contained a potential Queen, and that was the limit of their child-rearing duties.

Changelings hatched, just slightly larger than a Pony foal, but completely self-sufficient and already linked in to the Hive Mind, if not yet self-aware. Until they developed full sentience, often sometime after physical maturity was reached, these mindless Drones were little more than extensions of the Hive Mind’s will, additional limbs to be manipulated by the sentient Drones and the Queen at will.

Her brood, two black Females like herself, and a unique birth to Chrysalis’s knowledge, a white Male that was an almost identical clone of his father but for the beginnings of a green mane and tail rather than the Stallion's two-toned blue hair, were barely self-aware yet somehow intensely individual despite their lack of identity, drifting through the Hive Mind like little lights of innocence and love, snuggling up to the Mind-Glows of the Drones and her own mind when awake, or gamboling through the entire structure like monkeys in a tree if the whim took them, but otherwise the children were distressingly blind to the Hive Mind when they were asleep, a trait no other Changeling shared.

Several Drones had already complained about being ‘mind-glomped’ by her brood during their duties, describing the sensation as very disturbing due to the Brood’s combination of a lack of self-awareness combined with an inherent ‘individuality’ that kept them separate from the Hive's Mind-Glows, whereas normal ‘Hatchlings’ were more like a large, nebulous masses of Mind-Glow that would, over time, cleave off into individual Drones, and would often merge with the Mind-Glows of the sentient Drones, copying fragments of personality and experience with each meld.

For now, however, the Broodlings would sleep by her side in the warm confines of the wagon, which her Drones had managed to get settled into the cave and out of the wind, and the Kattians had been ‘convinced’ to stay in the cave as well by a vigorous Hive-wide patting/stroking/belly-rubbing effort to keep them in the one place, which had had the beneficial side-effect of making the Kattians produce staggering amounts of love for the Hive.

Through the Hive-Mind, Chrysalis could feel her Drones relief at being so well fed, after almost all of their Love-Brew reserves had been given to the Scouts for their trip to the Equestrian border, and the last of it given to Chrysalis to see her through the night.

Of course, there would be proper ‘harvesting’ required tomorrow morning to provide more of the condensed form of ‘Love’ for Chrysalis to extend her life just another day, but without having to perform the whole process on the move, the Hive would be able to stockpile several weeks worth of Love-Brew with just a few days effort, and just being nearby the Kattians allowed the Drones to absorb the ambient love the Kattians were producing in the aftermath of their pampering session.

Yet underneath all the relief at being fed, there was an undercurrent of fear. Concerns over her health, worries that her current Broodlings would be unable to undergo the metamorphosis into proper Changelings, and thus a proper Queen, dooming every last Changeling in the Hive to a slow mental degeneration, a deep, cutting fear that the Ponies would not agree to her terms of surrender and instead come with fire and sword to wipe her Hive out, and above all others, a chilling terror whenever one of the Drones’ minds turned to thoughts of the Empress and the Elder Queens that sought to eliminate the ‘failed’ bloodline of the Changelings.

Chrysalis did what she could to alleviate those fears, pressing her Mind-Glow against those that grew yellow with fear and pushed her feelings of confidence and the protective instincts her Broodlings instilled in her into their own Glows, and calmed the Drones as much as she could, but if the Scouts could not reach the borders soon, and convince the Guards to let her Drones into Equestria, so that she could reach Canterlot and the Immortals who ruled there soon, then the Empress’s would not only be able to wipe out the Changelings, but her army of Other creatures would wash over the lush, green lands of the other Races, and not even the Elements of Harmony would be able to stop her.

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“Oh-kay, bits for shopping?”

“Uh … check?”

“Illusions that will make us look like a pair of Unicorns?”

“Yes …”

“You’re supposed to say ‘check’, Luna.”

“Yes, check, affirmative, don’t they all mean the same thing?”

“Yes but … the items on checklists being read out should always be answered with ‘check’.”

“Oh, you are going to be fun when tax-time rolls around again. Very well, ‘check’.”

“Shopping list!”

“Cheeeeeck.”

“List of escape-routes, just in case the Paparazzi find us?”

“Check!”

“Okay … well, Luna, I think that’s it.” Twilight sighed, ignoring Luna’s teasing as she looked over the camp-site.

From the air, the camp was almost entirely hidden from view under the branches of a pair of ancient weeping willow trees, but mid-way in the river was a water-worn granite building-block, so massive that even after a thousand years, the river had barely worn away from it at all, a solid land-mark for the two to rely upon to find their camp again.

“So the plan is we use magic to levitate the wagon and fly to the outskirts of the Everfree Forest and then go have … breakfast with your friend, Applejack?” Luna asked as the two Alicorns gave their wings the once over, looking for loose feathers and stretching their muscles before they took to the air, the faintest pink light of Celestia’s dawn creeping across the horizon.

“Somewhat like that, yes. It’ll take us about an hour’s flight to get to the Apple’s property, and they’re normally having breakfast by then.” Twilight explained as the two slowly took to the air, the Apple family’s wagon floating between them, wincing at the chill that immediately attacked them, seeping in past their fur. “We’ll have breakfast there after we drop off the wagon, because you will not believe how good Granny Smith’s apple-fritters are, then we use our illusions in-case anypony is looking for two Alicorn Princesses, and from there it’s an hour’s walk into Ponyville, which should get us into town, and to the library to have a shower …”

“Oh by my sister’s beard, YES! Hot water and shampoo, truly the greatest blessings of civilisation.” Luna moaned appreciatively, sticking out her tongue at Twilight as the younger Alicorn giggled at Luna’s longing for a shower.

“Yes, well, we can use my shower, and it gives me a chance to check on Spike, and by then Ponyville’s shops should all have opened, and we can get our shopping done.” Twilight agreed, trying to steer her subconscious away from images of Luna, her fur and mane slicked down by steaming hot water, asking Twilight to rub the slick, coconut-scented shampoo over her body ... and nearly dropped her side of the Apple-family’s wagon when her concentration wandered. Behaaaaaaaave! Half the reason we need to risk going into Ponyville is because as soon as we lay hooves on each other we lose all sense of control!

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Rainbow Dash knew she was stalling, but she was also not entirely sure what to do first.

A letter left to Spike, saying she’d gone home, thanks for the couch, yadda yadda, had been the only thing that had gone right last night.

Coming back to her multi-storey cloud-mansion above Ponyville, Rainbow found she was unable to sleep, but also unable to do anything. Disturbingly enough, writing down her ‘plan’ had given her some headway, but now Rainbow realised that she actually had no idea how to approach Twilight from a romantic angle.

Each and every single relationship Rainbow had been involved in had been based on pure physical attraction. It all basically boiled down to “My place or yours.”, and Ponies who were too shy for her abrupt pick-up lines were Ponies that Rainbow Dash had always considered too timid to be any fun between the sheets.

Now, here she was, trying desperately to figure out how to get one of the most clueless and socially awkward Ponies in Equestria to shack up with her, rather than the fabulously wealthy, physically perfect, no-doubt absolutely-freaky-between-the-sheets Immortal Princess who’d popped her cherry.

“Auuuuuugh.” Rainbow groaned, banging her head on the table in the middle of her kitchen repeatedly, trying to jar her brain into gear. She knew Twilight loved adventures, loved to stick to a plan, loved to experiment and learn new things, and loved her friends to a fault.

So why in Faust’s name is it so damn hard to figure out how to just go up and talk to Twilight now? It wasn’t like this was Rainbow’s first time trying to get with somebody who was already in a steady relationship, but it was also Rainbow’s first time at trying to get into a steady relationship for herself.

Just … nervous that this might muck things up with Twilight, that’s all. Rainbow sighed, her head lying on the solidified cloud-matter that made up the kitchen-table, and the majority of her house for that matter, and trying to fight down the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. And I’ve got no idea if she and Luna are actually sweet on each other or this is just a one-time thing. Rarity was saying that the tent smelled of musk … so maybe Alicorns go into estrus at weird times of the year, and they’re just Heat-Buddies?

But it was mid-summer now, and even the latest of bloomers would have gone through their estrus … yet the tent had, according to Rarity, reeked of the musk that Mares only produced during their estrus-cycle.

Twilight’s out in the forest because her magic is running out of control, right? Is this like her ‘Need It, Want It’ spell? She got the itch, her magic ran out of control, it made them both go into Estrus and they’re just banging each other till the spell wears off?

Snorting in disgust, Rainbow lifted her head off the compressed cloud-matter of the table and paced around the kitchen, her wings twitching with frustration.

Tartarus, no! Twilight’s got a crazy streak a mile wide, but she’s not the kind of Pony that’d just sit back and let something like that happen. The cyan-blue Pegasus thought to herself as her eyes trailed to the nearest ‘window’, where the sun was slowly creeping over the horizon, the barest hint of the sun visible over the horizon, but the sky already looking to be bright and cheerful, and annoyingly enough, cloudless. Damn, forgot we’re not scheduled for any clouds for another few days. I could really go for some cloud-busting right now, just to give myself something to do while I think. I’m not good at this sitting-and-plotting-stuff”Y, I just do and let things work out for themselves.

“Damn it …” Rainbow sighed, getting up and leaving the kitchen to try and watch some TV to clear her mind, missing by only a few seconds the bizzare sight of two Alicorns and a flying wagon buzzing low over the tree-tops of the Everfree Forest, just a few minutes flight from the Apple Acres orchard.

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“You’re up early today, Applejack.” Granny Smith said, giving her grand-daughter an odd look before turning her attention back to the batch of apple-fritters cooking in the pan.

“Mmmgh. Sorry Granny, ah know, ah know, but Spike’s asked me for some help. Turns out that bragging nag of a Mare, Trixie, is coming back to town to get some help from Twilight.” The Farm-Pony groaned, drinking her entire mug of black coffee in one go, then pouring herself another mug’s worth from the jug. “Ah’ve gotta get the entire west fence repaired before the train from Canterlot pulls in, an’ ah have got a feelin’ in mah guts that this’ll be a long day.”

“All the more reason to get some more shut-eye.” Granny Smith retorted, but she was smiling nonetheless. “Couldn’t one of Twilight’s other friends do this?”

“Eh, Rainbow Dash would jus’ pick a fight, Rarity said she’s gonna help, but she’s supposed to be lookin’ after the Cutie Mark Crusaders today, Fluttershy’s lookin’ after Zecora an’ she ain’t the best Pony to have around when things get tense, an’ Pinkie is … well … Pinkie. Faust only knows what she’d do in this situation.” The Farm-Pony explained, then sighed heavily, shooting a longing look at the stairs that would take her up to the second storey of the house, and her bed. “Ah’ll fix the fence, do this thing fer Spike, then ah’ll~.”

“Get some shut-eye.” Granny Smith said loudly, flipped the first batch of apple-fritters out of the pan and onto a plate. “You want to have another repeat of that time Big Mac broke his ribs and you tried to tale care of the whole farm on your own? It’s about time you and Big Mac sat down and decided on hirin’ some permanent farm-hands.”

“Granny Smith, we ain’t got the bits for that!” Applejack spluttered, nearly knocking over her mug of coffee in her shock.

“We’ve have the bits if you’d just swallow your dang-fool pride and take the Princess’s bits like the rest of the Bearers did!” Granny Smith snapped, a rare look of anger on her ancient, lined face. “Principles are good and all, but for Hay’s sake, Applejack, at this rate we might not be able to afford Applebloom’s school-fees next year, let alone what might happen if the fruit-bats swing past next season. And you know the Bank has been unwillin’ to say if they’ll extend the loan we took out to cover the loss of the west field’s crop the last time those dang pests came for a meal!”

“Y-ye’re askin’ me to accept charity, Granny?” Applejack asked hoarsely, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“I’m asking you to accept your due, you durn fool! How many times have you gone above and beyond what’s expected of you?” The ancient Mare snapped back without turning around, cooking another batch of apple-fritters. “With those bits, we’d be able to pay off our debts, make sure all our farm-tools and equipment is up to date and repaired, and then we’d be able to put some bits aside to hire some farm-hands, and then you and your brother wouldn’t be working every dang day till you’re bent and broken like me, just to make up for Russet's selfishness!”

The only sound in the kitchen was the hiss of the batter in the pan as Applejack sat there, stunned and disturbed, at the venom that was in Granny Smith’s voice. Such … loathing … in her tone that curdled Applejack’s retort and made her swallow it unspoken.

Her father, Russet Bloom, had bailed on the family when Applebloom had first been born, stealing the family’s heirlooms and emptying their bank account before fleeing across the border into Zebra territory, leaving Grandpa Smith, Big Mac, Applejack and Granny Smith to take care of the farm, Golden Delicious, Applejack’s mother, and the tiny, sickly little filly that had nearly killed her mother during child-birth.

And trying to maintain the farm, with no money and no aid from the Guards, given that all the money the family had had been in Russet’s name in the first place and thus it’s loss couldn’t be considered ‘theft’, and weakened from a difficult child-birth and an infection in her blood, Golden Delicious had died shortly afterwards, her last, delirious words “Where is my Russet? Why isn’t he home yet?”

Shortly after that, Grandpa Smith had also passed on, and while the extended Apple-clan had rallied around the family and helped keep the farm in order, they couldn’t stay forever. It was a testimony to how hard Big Mac and Granny Smith had worked, and then Applejack, to keep the farm from going under, refusing loans and buy-out offers and working from before sun-up till well into the evening to keep the farm going.

“Yah … yah think we’re that hard up, Granny?” Applejack finally managed to speak, her voice cracking with guilt. Did I do this to my kin? “Ah mean, we’ve always had tight purse-strings, but … we ain’t ever accepted money before, not even from our kin.”

“We’re holdin’ our heads above water, but that’s all we’re doin’, Applejack. Big Mac’s barely keepin’ up with his chores, and you’re always being pulled off to Faust-knows-where by the Princesses to flash your sparkly little magical doohickey at something, and Applebloom …” Granny Smith sighed, flipped the second lot of apple fritters onto the plate containing the first and carried it over to the kitchen table, weariness evident in her gait, her joints clicking and popping every step of the way. “I don’t want to see this family go without again and again because of pride, sweetie. I watched your grand-pa work himself into an early grave because he was so ashamed of what his son had done to his family that he thought he had to be twice the Stallion he was before to make it up to us all. I watched your poor sweet mother die of a broken heart because she never knew what had happened to make that no-good scoundrel son of mine run off on her and you kids. I’ve watched you and Big Mac spend what’s supposed to be the happiest years of your lives breaking your backs and hardening your hearts just to keep a roof over our heads.”

“When next you see your friend Twilight again, you tell her you need to send a letter to Celestia. You do it, Applejack. Don’t you feel no shame neither, you earned every single bit a dozen times over. You’re the first family-member since your great-great-great-great-grand aunt Barkbiter to earn a Bronze Leaf, and you’re the apple of the Apple-clan’s eye. You take those bits, and you fix this farm so Russet’s shame doesn’t keep you three down on your knees forever.”

“Ah … ah jus’ feel like ah’m betrayin’ somethin’, Granny. We’ve never needed no-pony before now.”

“Like the Flim-Flam brothers?” Granny Smith asked dryly, sliding the plate of apple fritters under Applejack’s nose.

“Th-that was a once-off!”

“Or the time Big Mac busted his ribs?”

“A fluke!”

“There’s bein’ principled, my girl, and then there’s being just stubborn. Now you finish your fritters, an’ I want you to write a letter to Celestia, askin’ her, please an’ thank you, for those bits. An’ you ain’t leavin’ this house or doin’ no chores till it’s written.” The ancient matriarch of the house-hold said gently, tapping a worn and chipped hoof against the plate when Applejack opened her mouth to protest again. “You’ll get the bits, we’ll pay off the loans, we’ll hire some farmhands an’ you an’ Big Mac can decide where to go from there. I’m too old to be doin’ this no more, Applejack.”

“Well … at least Twilight’s out in the … uh, ah mean, out training with Luna. Gives me plenty of time to come up with a dang good letter for Celestia.” Applejack muttered, picking up and biting into one of the fritters, feeling a touch of her troubles melt away as the sweet pastry and pieces of apple filled her mouth with bliss.

And then there was a knock at the door, and a familiar voice rang out. “Sorry for the intrusion! Applejack? Granny Smith? Big Mac? Are you up yet?”

“Well, maybe you can ask Twilight for help with that letter, Applejack.” Granny Smith said, patiently ignoring the way Applejack put her face down onto the plate of fritters and began sobbing in frustration.