Thread prompt: "Just pull the trigger, Anon. Just put an end to my misery once and for all." + Picture of Dash
 
> "Just pull the trigger, Anon. Just put an end to my misery once and for all."
> You lay panting, the sky-blue pegasus practically crushed beneath your weight.
> Her wings splayed out, one bent at a painful angle.
> The muzzle of your gun jammed beneath her jaw.
> "Just fucking do it. I can't take this anymore."
> She practically slams her jaw down onto the muzzle, tears pouring from her eyes.
> Whether it's due to her emotions or the oozing bullet wound on her flank, you don't know.
> "Come on!"
> Her cries are tinged with frustration as your finger fails to tighten around the trigger.
> "Just finish me off!"
> You...
> You laugh.
> You break out in furious laughter, your head tilting back and eyes falling shut.
"Oh, Dash."
> You lean in again, sliding a finger beneath her chin.
> The anger in her eyes has long since fled, replaced by a far more familiar fear.
"Oh, you silly little pony, Dash. I'm not going to shoot you."
> Your hand moves to grasp the steel collar fastened about her throat.
> She tries to shrink back, but trapped underneath you there's barely any room for her to move.
"You're far to valuable to me, Dash."
> "F-fuck you-"
> She actually tries to yank the gun from your hand, gripping it in her mouth to pull it away.
> No idea how to she intends to shoot it, but she's becoming frantic now.
> You pull the gun back with a painful screech of metal on teeth and haul her upright.
> She's trying to flee now, hooves scrabbling uselessly on the floor.
> At first she had tried to fly, but had quickly learned that a Pegasus with clipped feathers doesn't soar well.
> "No! No, no, no! I won't go back to that! I can't!"
"You will do whatever I order you to do, Dash."
> You swat her across the wings, earning a delightful squeal.
"Sooner or later you need to accept it: You are nothing but my slave now, and not even trying to get me to shoot you will change that."
> She's full-on crying now as you drag her down the steps to her prison.
> "N-no... I c-can't... can't live like this..."
"That's because you still struggle, Dash. When you accept your place, this will become so much easier."
> "I-I'm not a-"
"Yes you are. You are mine, trapped and taken. Like it or not, that is the reality.
> You are nearing a cage, the front open and waiting like the jaw of some monstrous beast.
> It was barely large enough for Dash to be able to crawl in on her belly, and certainly gave no room for her wings to spread.
> On the floor in front of it sat the heavy blindfold and earmuffs you would apply once she was secured in the cage.
> Experience had taught of a certain natural reflex pegasi had when unable to find their way.
> Almost instinctively their wings tried to open to find an air current on which they could ride.
> When denied that ability and trapped in a tight, claustrophobic environment as well they went into a panic, thousands of years of instinct telling them they are about to crash.
> Dash knows this too, also from experience with that cage.
> It's why she's ceased all attempts to flee as you pull her to the opening, trembling heavily.
> "N-no Anon, I'm sorry. Please don't put me in that again, Anon - please?"
> She's mewling now, violet eyes begging you not to force her into the living hell that the cage will become.
"No. You broke a lot of rules today, Dash; you can't just beg your way out of that any more than you can escape this by making me kill you."
> Her pleading turns to sobs as you secure her in the cage and remove her senses of sight and sound.
> Almost immediately you can see her wings reflexively open, then shut, then open again.
> The first stage.
> The second comes soon after: A sort of wiggling shuffle as she instinctively tries to blindly find her way to a nonexistant exit from this entrapment.
> Soon her movements become frantic and fearful.
> And then they cease entirely, except for a terrified shiver from time to time as a wing brushes against the bars.
> Typically you didn't leave her in there for more than an hour or two.
> But this had been an especially grievous violation of your rules.
> Trying to escape in death was a desperate move on her part, but intelligent.
> She knew how you'd react if ambushed.
> ...you think you'll leave her in there for 48 hours or so.
> By the time she comes out, she should be more willing to listen to her master.
> More able to accept her place.
 
> Utlimately she stays in the cage for two and a half days.
> Oh, you keep her watered and fed - though you aren't sure you could call the mush that you pour into her mouth to be 'food'.
> Of course there is no set schedule to the feedings, or to when you hose her down to keep her sanitary.
> No way for her to tell how much time had passed.
> And of course blind and deaf as she was, there was no way for Dash to tell that you were coming.
> The first hint she would get was the rough touch of your hand pulling her jaw open or the first splash of the hose against her coat.
> You were like some kind of primitive god.
> Rewarding with food and punishing with streams of icy water as you pleased, without any sense of logic or reason.
> Most of the time she just spent trying to ignore the instinctual fear pressing down on her mind.
> Sometimes she desperately threw herself against the bars of the cage, as if her body could break through the steel and out of the hell she had been placed in.
> Sometimes she sobs and screams herself raw.
> Sometimes she curled into a tiny ball and shivered in place until the next wave of fear hit her.
> Any significant amount of sleep was rare.
> Both because you interrupted her at entirely random hours and because any brush of her wings as she shifted unconsciously would trigger the deep-seated crashing reflex.
> Every time she would jump awake, inevitably crashing into the close confines of the cage sending her mind into another spiral of instinct-driven dread of crashing.
> Somewhere around the fifty-two hour hour mark she lost it entirely.
> Huddled in on herself, she stopped responding entirely.
> Even when you came to feed her, you practically had to hold her jaw up to keep her from choking.
> The next morning you decide she's had enough.
> Dash barely responds as you open the cage.
> Even when you reach in to pull her out, she is limp against your hands.
> Only when you lift her up into your arms does she respond at all.
> "A-Anon? Is that r-really you?"
> You've yet to return her senses of sight and sound, so all she can do is feel your hands on her sides.
> You lift her onto your shoulder and she promptly latches tightly on to it.
> "A-are you really here?"
> Making a soft shushing noise even though you know she can't hear it, you reach up and gently rub the back of her head.
> Dash leans in against you, pressing her cheek into your neck.
> "I-I saw... I thought... I thought you were going to leave me there forever, Anonymous... I thought I was going to die..."
> She's shivering again, her wings twitching furiously as she explores her newfound freedom once more.
> Dash was always like this when she came out of her cage.
> Docile, obedient.
> Seeking any real physical contact,regardless of how humiliating she would find it later.
> Anything to ward off that terrible feeling of perpetual falling she had suffered through.
> Of course, usually you would have given her back her sight and hearing by then.
> For now, though, the earmuffs and goggles remain in place as you carry her back up the stairway.
> After two flights of stairs you arrive at your 'bedroom'.
> It's a bit of an understatement:
> For what hides beneath it, your home is a relatively modest, unobtrusive thing.
> The bedroom, while not large or well-decorated, has ample room for a large bed and a desk for you to work at - all lit by several outsized windows to give plenty of light and air to the room.
> You stop in front of the open door leading to a deck, pulling up a seat and settling in with a sigh.
> On your shoulder, Dash twitches at the breeze flowing in through the open doorway.
> She knows what that means:
> She is close to open air, close to freedom.
> But Dash also knows that she cannot fly - not with her feathers clipped.
> You lean over, running a hand down her back.
> As it passes between her wings they flex, unconsciously spreading as she drinks in the first real contact you have had in so long.
> Pulling her down off your shoulder, you see that twin streaks have appeared from beneath the blindfold.
> You reach up and gently brush the tears away.
> Instantly Dash tenses again.
> "I-I'm sorry, I know you said I shouldn't c-cry... I'm just... so h-happy to... to feel..."
> You can see her struggling with the thought.
> Wrestling with the idea that she was now so desirous of any physical contact that your mere touch could bring tears to her eyes.
> That undeniable joy, weighed against the humiliation of knowing she was nuzzling her captor.
> The one who had put her in that cage in the first place.
> You brush her other cheek clean of tears and logic begins to catch up to instinct in her mind.
> Logic that says she has just gone against your order again by crying.
> Dash flinches back, wings snapping flat against her back as she curls her legs into herself.
> "I-I'm sorry... I know you said not t-to cry... please, please, don't put me back in there..."
> Without a word you pick her up, turning Dash so she rests across your lap.
> You sharply rap your fingers across her snout.
> It's a minor punishment you sometimes use for when she is only just out of line.
> Without a pause, you reach down and start to rub her back.
> You can feel the tension there, knots and strains built up from days spent huddles into a tiny ball.
> The message to Dash is clear.
> 'You are forgiven.'
> She nuzzles her cheek into your arm again, tears beginning to flow unabashedly as she both laughs and cries in joy at not having to go back to the cage's hell.
> "Thankyou, Thankyou, Thankyou, Thankyou!"
> You pet her until her elation calms and she settles down into your lap.
> Eventually, as the sun rises toward noon, you lift the earmuffs from her ears.
> When the goggles do not follow, she lifts her head.
> Blinded eyes searching as she tries to figure out what is going on.
"Dash."
> After so long hearing nothing - not even her own breathing - your voice is like a thunderclap to her.
"Who am I, Dash?"
> "Y-you're..."
> Momentarily she hesitates.
> Her stubborn prideful streak making one last desperate push.
> It fails.
> "You're my m-master. My owner."
> A smile finds its way to your lips.
"And who are you?"
> "I-I'm... I'm Rainbow Dash... your obedient... slave... your bluebird."
"So you are, my little broken bluebird. So you are."
> You'd been told at first to take away her name.
> That it would discourage her pride if she had her very identity taken away from her.
> You disagreed.
> Undoubtedly you could have worked your way into her mind more quickly if you had forced her to accept another name.
> But making her to obey while still remembering who she was?
> Ultimately it was far, far more humiliating for her to go through this like that.
> It wasn't some other pony, some random slave of another name that was so desperate for attention she would cling to her captor as though her life depended on it.
> It was Rainbow Dash, once the fastest pony in Equestria, Wonderbolts trainee, constant competitor, who never backed down.
> That was who was soaking in your touch even as her mind screamed that you were responsible for the horror she had experienced.
> And she could never forget it.
"I'm going to leave the earmuffs off for now, Dash. You're going to stay here, in my room, waiting for me to return this evening. And when you do, you are going to greet me properly as a slave, do you understand?"
> "Yes." A pause. "Yes, master."
"Good..."
> You give her a slight rub behind the ears - her head rocking back to press into it - and lift her off your lap.
> The day ahead is barely out of routine for your activities.
> Despite what some people - or ponies - might think, the daily life of a shipwrecked mastermind was not a a particularly exciting one.
> You ate your breakfast.
> You rechecked the security barriers for any anomalies - despite your very clear warnings on what further intrusions would mean, certain Alicorns had a frustrating tendency to try and penetrate your defenses.
> You planned new extensions to your lair.
> You designed new devices and contraptions to aid you.
> You made sure the drone laborers were still functioning properly.
> And, of course, you periodically watched your slave waiting in your room.
> As expected, she has remained quite obedient - quietly waiting on your bed for your return.
> Briefly she drifts off into a nap, catching up on the sleep she had missed so badly the past three nights.
> But she soon awakens, and goes back to patiently waiting.
> It's a statement on how much your punishment had affected her that the always-moving, notoriously impatient Rainbow Dash could make herself stay in one place for so long.
> Amazingly, when you arrive from dinner that evening, she is still in place.
> Empty plates from meals the drones had brought her sit off to the side, but Dash still sits on the center of your bed.
> As she hears your boots on the wood, she springs up and faces what she assume to be the doorway.
> She bows deeply, nose practically touching the bedding.
> Her wings spread wide in a position of abject submission.
"Good evening, Rainbow Dash. I'm pleased to see you followed my orders."
> Her ears twitch at your voice, and she rises to face you again.
> "Thank you, master."
"Since you have been so obedient today, I think I will reward you.tonight. You will be sleeping inside with me."
> She perks up excitedly.
> "Thank you, master!"
> On nights when she misbehaved, Dash was kept on a narrow ledge outside, her thick metal collar bolted securely to a ring in the outside wall.
> So close to the freedom of the open air, yet the chain on her collar not long enough she could even throw herself off the ledge to her doom.
> When she had been a good slave, however, you allowed her to join you in bed.
> This time, however, there would be a catch.
> As your slip into bed, pulling back the covers and sliding beneath, Dash cautiously creeps up beside you.
> She's learned not to be so assuming about your intentions.
> That your whims could turn cruel at a moment's notice.
> It's a reasonable fear.
> Dash tenses as she feels you grip her collar, coat rippling.
> When the earmuffs again begin to slide over her head she begins to shiver in outright terror.
> "Master? Anon?! I didn't - please d-don't - don't-"
> You cut her off with one ear still uncovered.
"Shhh. You won't be going back into the cage, Dash. You're just going to have to accept this overnight.
> She trembles, but nods as you slip the earmuff down, again cutting off her only real sense of the outside world.
> Of course, your reasons were somewhat different.
> Deprived of her senses and snugly beneath the covers with you, Dash again begins to experience a minor form of the same panic the cage inspired.
> This time, however, she can seek out some solid physical contact, some reassurance that she is safe.
> That is, naturally, yourself.
> Quickly Dash has locked herself around you in a tight embrace, slowly relaxing as your presence assures her mind.
> Undoubtedly she cannot bear knowing you are the only thing keeping her sane.
> But she cannot help clinging to you either.
> You smile and embrace her in return as you drift off to sleep.
> You know Dash is yours.
> Your little broken bluebird.
 
------
 
"Time to get up, Dash."
> She stirs on your bed, yawning and rolling over.
> One trait you never managed to work out of her system:
> Dash is not a morning pony.
"Last warning, Dash."
> 'Warning' is a word she knows well.
> It comes right before 'punishment.'
> Instantly she's wide awake, pushing herself up.
> "Okay, okay, I'm awake... good morning, master."
> You reach over and calmly rub her between the ears.
> As if you had not been threatening grievous harm moments earlier.
"Good girl, Dash."
> It's been a few days since the last incident.
> Dash's punishment has stuck well, and she's been quite obedient.
> As a result she's been increasingly sleeping inside with you.
> After the third day you even let her keep her senses at night.
> Surprisingly, she kept clinging to you.
> The fear of being left alone again must have imprinted itself far more deeply on her mind than you had imagined.
"Now, it's a very special day today. Do you know what it is?"
> "No, master. What day is it?"
> You lean in and whisper into her ear.
"Today's the first of the month. That means you get to talk to your friends today!"
> She rocks back away from you on the bed, eyes going wide.
> Dash hates talking to her friends, because it means two things.
> One, she has to be on her absolute best behavior.
> Embarrassments will not be tolerated.
> Two, she gets to be reminded of everything that you have taken from her.
> Her friends, her town, her freedom.
> Her flight.
> This time, especially, it would be a particular test of how deeply her obedience ran.
> "C-can I at least have breakfast first?"
> You give her a warm smile.
"Of course you can. I've never starved you, Dash. Go downstairs and get some food."
> She trots off, looking glum.
> You knew she wasn't that hungry, anyhow.
> Just looking for some way to put off her appointment with memory.
> An hour later finds you in one of the basement rooms.
> Perfectly nondescript, and unused for any other purpose.
> No chance of leaving out any sensitive information or helpful hints by accident.
> Nothing except a large, plush chair set in the center of the room atop a thick carpet, a screen mounted to the opposite wall, and a camera above it.
> Somewhere in Equestria there was a nearly identical setup, around with five other ponies would be gathering now.
> You sink into the chair and pat your lap.
"Come here, Dash."
> She had slunk in behind you.
> Every step dragged as she was inexorably draw towards the hated ritual.
> You are becoming impatient.
> A snap of your fingers, and she's instantly at your side, climbing into the chair.
> You settle her down on your lap like a cat, facing the screen with you.
> She takes a deep breath, trying to ready herself.
> The screen comes on.
> The room on the other side is likewise nondescript, except for the crystalline walls.
> You never exactly did figure out exactly where in Twilight's castle it was.
> Though you suspected it was, like yours, some otherwise useless room that served only this purpose.
> That did not matter, though.
> What did matter was the five ponies seated in the room, facing the screen on their end.
> As their screen comes on, they all perk up.
> Their reactions are varied.
> Anger, sadness, joy at seeing their friend again -
> All are evident on their faces.
> Dash speaks first.
> "H-hey, girls."
> "Hey Rainbow." "Hallo, Dash." "Heya."
> "H-how are you all doing?"
> "We're fine, darling... we're... just fine. How are you faring?"
> Dash hesitates for just a moment.
> But her training runs deep.
> "I'm okay... it's been better as of late..."
> "He wasn't hurting you before, was he?!"
> This time there's no hesitation in Dash's answer.
> "No... no, he just wasn't being... as kind. Maybe he could have used to take a few lessons from Fluttershy, heheh?"
> Her laugh is forced and awkward, as is the joke.
> Despite Dash's words, she sounds nothing like the headstrong pegasus you had captured..
> And nothing like the friend they once had.
> They suspect, of course, but they cannot prove.
> You just smile, quietly allowing your hand to rest on her back.
> Her friends flinch at the casual contact.
> One of them steps forward.
> "Ya been eatin' okay out there, pardner?"
> Dash nods more enthusiastically.
> "Oh yeah. He's got lots of really cool baking things and sometimes he..."
> That part, at least, she was not lying about.
> Her diet had markedly improved once she started obeying again.
> The conversation turns to more esoteric matters:
> Lives of ponies you have never met.
> The status of Dash's favorite performance team.
> You can see her drink it up, the only real reminder she has of what her life once was.
> But it's a bitter brew for Dash.
> She can't help but enjoy it, even as she knows it is something she will not be going back to.
> And even as she talks and talks, you can see her face dropping further and further as the memories of easier times come to the surface.
> "Dashie...?"
> The pink one steps forward.
> "Just remember, please... whatever happens, don't forget to just... smile, sometimes, okay?"
> Her own smile is pained and stretched.
> You think she might be close to tears.
> Dash nods, putting on her own strained smile.
> "Yeah, Pinkie. I won't forget. Just smile."
> "We'll... we'll always be here for you, Dash. Remember that."
> "Uh-huh. Some of my birds are keeping your home all tidied up for when you get back..."
> "And then we can throw you the biggest party ever!"
> Dash's eyes start to water.
> "I-I... thank y- uh, thank you, girls..."
> The cause of her interruption was your hand.
> It had slipped beneath her chin, running up to lift her head slightly.
> To make sure her friends saw the metal collar still fixed around her neck.
> To make sure they knew the 'welcome back' parties would remain just a dream.
> They all flinch.
"Well. This has been touching; however, we have business to get through with. Dash, if you would?"
> "Of c-course, master."
> She hops down from the chair, approaching the camera and then slowly walking in a long circle in front of it.
"Princess Twilight. As you can see, she is physically unharmed and still quite sane. As such, I hope you are ready to accept that I have held to my end of the deal?"
> Dash has stopped, and now spreads her wings one at a time to show them off.
> Her yellow friend gasps softly at the sight of Dash's clipped feathers.
> The princess, meanwhile was busy furiously staring at the screen on her end.
> Probably searching for any excuse she could use to claim you had violated your end of the agreement.
> At last she sighs.
> "Yes, Anon, I accept that I can find no evidence of harm and that you have not injured Rainbow. As such, our deal is still in place, and we will not..."
> It's hard for her to say.
> "We will not attempt to attack your home."
> We will not attempt to rescue our friend.
> Dash's head is turned towards you, but it's only to hide her tightly squeezed eyes.
> No doubt it was tearing her up inside to hear Twilight swear off any attempts to save her, on the basis of her own lies.
> Of course you had other failsafes in place to prevent an attack
> But this was the most powerful at keeping Twilight at bay.
> She could not try to rescue Dash without forfeiting her friend's life.
> Instead, you agreed to allow her enough access to be sure that you were causing no permanent physical harm to Dash or driving her insane.
> And in return she agreed not to attack you.
> In theory it was 'allow the situation to stabilize until we had both accepted each others' existence'.
> In reality, you were having far to much fun with Dash to ever give her up.
> By the time your agreement was ended, she would never think of leaving your side.
"In that case, our business is concluded. I will leave you all to talk. You have a little over three hou-"
> "Oh! Princess! You didn't tell me you were coming!"
> You freeze.
> There was only one princess that got Twilight so excited.
> "Of course, Twilight. I didn't want to distract you while you were preparing to see your friend."
> The warm, motherly voice flows from off-screen.
> Your eyes narrow.
> While Twilight was held at arm's length by your hostage and Luna far to direct to pose a threat to you, Celestia was another matter.
> You held a healthy respect for the princess as a capable leader.
> Holding a nation together alone for a thousand years was no small feat.
> She was quite possibly the only creature on this planet capable of outmaneuvering you.
> Even as her incandescent visage enters the frame, you straighten up and offer a small bow.
"Princess Celestia. I had not realized you were to be attending."
> Meaning, 'Why are you here?'
> "Anonymous. I did not announce my intention."
> 'I didn't want you to know.'
"Ah, a surprise appearance - liking to keep your subjects on your toes, I see."
> 'Your subjects. Not me.'
> "Merely looking out for all of my subjects' well-being."
> 'Including the ones you hold hostage.'
"An honorable cause, when pursued properly."
> 'Don't try anything, or you'll just be endangering her.'
> "I am quite experienced in the task, of course."
> 'I know. Don't test me either.'
> Dash has backed off as the two of you exchange verbal barbs.
"Well. Twilight has already accepted that our deal will remain in place; I presume you trust her judgement?"
> "Indeed. I was merely hoping I could speak with Rainbow Dash myself?"
"Of course! Please, do come and talk."
> You give her a positively beatific smile and stand, walking over to Dash's side.
"I'm going to head off for a bit now, Dash. You have a good chat with your friends, alright?"
> You lean to whisper into her ear.
"I'll be watching."
> She manages to not shiver to badly at your threat, nodding.
"O-okay, master."
> On the screen, a brief grimace passes over Celestia's features.
> Slavery, you understood, was one of her most hated things.
> Unfortunate that your agreement was still in place, then.
> Another overly-warm smile, and you are gone from the room.
 
--------
 
> Periodically you get visitors in your little home.
> Mostly random ponies looking to beg a favor of some kind from the strange alien.
> It's some kind of rule of the universe or something.
> If you're going to be a reclusive, mysterious figure you're going to get pilgrims.
> For the most part, you treat them fairly well.
> You are barely tolerated by the princesses as it is; harming visitors would not be a smart choice.
> Some of their requests are completely out of the realm of possibility, of course.
> No, you can't bring back relatives from the dead or make someone fall in love.
> But other, more minor ones?
> Terms were negotiable.
> Your guest today was already making her way up the mountainside towards you.
> A griffon, you saw.
> Interesting beasts; you didn't see a great number of those.
> Probably because you'd crashed down in Equestria, across the sea from them.
> This was one was determined, though, doggedly marching up the mountainside despite the harsh storm lashing the mountain range with rain.
> She'd passed your outermost sensors around an hour ago, and was now turning up the final pass towards your home.
> You had decided to invite her in for a meal.
> You thumb down on the intercom.
"Dash, I do hope dinner is quite ready?"
> While the conversation with her friends had gone perfectly fine, it had set her in a foul mood.
> A mood that eventually led to her shirking an order.
> Of course she'd been quite apologetic when she realized, but you did not care to let it slip.
> You'd been making her handle setting dinner, despite the drones being perfectly capable of handling it on their own.
> Besides the obvious point of being forced to do something totally unnecessary, it had to balance the plates carefully between her wings.
> Just another reminder that they would be used for everything but flying.
> "Of course, master. Is there anything else you want...?"
"No. When you are done, come up to our room while I do my business."
> "Yes, master."
> A pity.
> She'd been doing so well as of late too.
> Well.
> Time to put on your show.
> You slipped on a suit and headed for the door.
> Still watching the camera feed from outside as the sodden griffon dragged itself up to your door.
"Three, two, one..."
> You throw the door open just as it had raised one taloned claw to knock.
"Good evening. You've traveled quite far, and in such terrible weather. Won't you please come in?"
> The griffon stared up at you from beneath her hood, beak half-open in surprise.
> "I, er... uh... yeah. Yeah, I can."
> You stepped aside to allow the griffon - a she, you had decided, based on the voice - step in.
> A drone swoops down to take her cloak.
> She regards it suspiciously with one golden-yellow eye, but hands the sodden garment over in the end.
> Then she shakes herself furiously.
> You had not been expecting that.
> Leaning back to avoid the shower of drops, you can't help but hide a smirk as she stretches out.
> "Aaaaah, that's much better."
"Indeed. I'm sure you've come to me with some particular matters to discuss, but might I interest you in a meal at the same time?"
> Now it is the griffon's turn to look caught off guard.
> "Uh, yeah. I guess. Not to much of any of that green stuff, right?"
"Of course not. You will find we share similar diets in that respect, Miss...?"
> "Gilda. And good, that stuff is for losers."
> You lead her through your home to the dining room.
> On the surface it is relatively modest, although well-lit compared to the drenching night outside.
> It's obviously thoroughly freaking 'Gilda' out.
"So, Miss Gilda... were you expecting me to be... different, yes?"
> "Uh, yeah, I guess... can ya quit it with the miss stuff, though? Makes me sound like some fancy-schmancy lame-o pony noble or something."
"Of course. I can assure you I can be quite the host as well, and this night is not one for traveling."
> She is slowly relaxing.
"Ah, speaking of which, here we are..."
> Dinner went surprisingly well.
> Gilda had practically jumped the table the second she saw the freshly-cooked meat laid out on it.
> While she had her fill, you paced yourself.
> Best to keep your mind sharp for the business that would follow.
"So, Gilda. No one comes out here for simple reasons. Everyone has a request. Since you've made it this far, I presume you've heard of my cost - so, why don't you tell me what you are looking for?"
> "Uh, yeah...."
> She was curled catlike on her seat now, eyes half-closed.
> Propping herself back up, she looks away again as she starts to speak.
> "So, I had this friend a long time back... she was sorta cool... and sorta dumb... but mostly cool. We had a big argument, and I ran away..."
> "So, after thinking a while, I realized... I was kinda dumb back there, so I wanted... I wanted to go back and make it up to her, okay?"
> She says it like just mentioning the idea of admitting wrong is some kind of deep personal failing.
> Presumably she wants you to be the one to reconcile the two of them somehow.
"I have to warn you, Gilda. I cannot change minds, especially without meeting this friend of yours."
> "Huh? No, I ain't gonna ask you to go talkin' to her. That'd be lame anyhow... I just want to know where she is."
> Oh.
> This, you could work with.
"Ah, well. I presume you tried to locate her own your own already?"
> "Yeah... she wasn't there anymore. All her dumb friends were, but they wouldn't tell me where she'd vanished off to. Some of the others said she'd gotten into some trouble - but wouldn't tell me anything more."
"I see. Well, in this case, I can help you."
> You might not have magic, but what you did have were the computers salvaged from your vessel and a vast information gathering network.
> Not even the Equestrian royal scribes could crunch data so fast, or gather it so widely.
> You traded information, and were paid in favors.
"Here is how this is going to work, Gilda. I will try and locate this friend of yours. Assuming I can reasonably find out where she is, I will tell you on one condition."
> "Yeah?"
"I will give you a package. It will be dropped off in a general area and left alone. You will not look inside it or take it anywhere else."
> She is giving you a strange look now.
> "What do I look like, an earth pony?"
"You look like you have wings and enough strength to carry a package like this."
> Her pride is suitably tickled, and perks back up again.
> "Heck yeah, I can carry it!"
"Good. Your friend. What's her name?"
> "Rainbow Dash. She's, uh... a pony. Blue coat, real crazy mane, all kinds of colors. Last I knew she was living in a place called Ponyville. We went to flight camp together, back in, uh - hey, are you okay?"
> You couldn't help it.
> You had started to laugh.
"Please excuse me, Gilda. This is... quite a surprise. Of all the things that someone would come to me for, this is not one I expected."
> "You know her then?"
> In response, you just tap the comm on.
"Dash, do come down to the dining room. There's someone here who wants to see you."
> Gilda jerks up in surprise.
> "She's here?!"
> Her answer comes in the form of hooves furiously pounding down the stairs.
> Poor, sweet Dash.
> She must think one of her circle of pony friends has come to visit.
> All eyes turn to the door where Dash has just appeared and promptly frozen, her mouth half-open.
> "G-Gilda?!"
> "Dash?!"
> Both are staring at each other in shock.
> Dash recovers first, snapping out defensively.
> "What the hay are you doing here?"
> Gilda jerks back as if struck.
> "What am I doing here?! I was looking for you! What the hay are you wearing?"
> Dash flinches, her head sinking backwards to try and hide the collar.
> "Don't wanna talk about it." she mutters unhappily, staring pointedly into the floor.
"Come here, Dash."
> She makes her way to your seat, staring up at you in apprehension.
> You pat your lap, but receive only a subtle, pleading shake of Dash's head in reply.
> She really doesn't want to be seen like this in front of her 'friend'.
> You merely reach down and lift her into your lap with a grunt.
> She goes stiff, no doubt in part because she knows that there is going to be a price to pay for failing to obey immediately.
> Gilda, meanwhile, has actually managed to look even more shocked at the sight she is seeing.
> "Wow, Dash, I mean I know we were friends and stuff, but you -really- like the exotic ones, don't you?"
> Dash twists her head to stare at Gilda again, flushing bright red.
> "And a collar too? I mean, wow - I would not have guessed you were one to like that."
> "What?! What're you talking about, I'm not-"
> She clams up, realizing that denying a relationship would force her to explain her actual state.
"Actually, she did a very brave thing, Gilda."
> The griffon looks up at you with a smirk.
> "Finally admitted how she was feelin' inside, huh? I can see why her friends wouldn't want to tell me that."
> "No! I'm not some kind of pervert, you little -"
> "Seriously, Dash. It's not so bad. I mean, it's freaky, but that's not the worst thing I've-"
> Rainbow wriggles uncomfortably in your arms, shaking her head.
> "No, it's not that. I'm-"
> "I even know a couple of griffons I'm fairly sure are doing some nasty things when nobody can see them."
> "I'm a bucking prisoner, Gilda!"
> The room is silent in the aftermath of Dash's outburst.
> You frown. Bad Rainbow; you'd hoped to keep the joke running a little longer.
> Gilda's been shocked into silence, her beak hanging half open.
> "W-what? How - that's - but you can fly! You were the second fastest back at camp!"
> Rainbow curls in on herself again; her clipped wings are a very painful point to her.
> But she messed up the fun you'd been having.
"Show her your wings, Dash."
> Her head rocks back to again stare pleadingly up at you, begging you not to.
"Show her your wings, Dash."
> Her head rocks back to again stare pleadingly up at you, begging you not to.
> Your gaze is hard and unrelenting, and Dash wilts beneath it.
> Slowly, apprehensively, she spreads both wings and lets them hang half-open at her sides.
> Not far, but enough to show the clean line of carefully-made cuts where the tips of her feathers ought to be.
"As I said, she did a very brave thing. I would need to keep someone around to make sure nobody comes after me, and Dash left her friends so that they could be safe."
> It was more that she was the only one dumb enough to charge you head-on without magic, but that wasn't important to tell.
"Since then, she's been a most agreeable guest... and most obedient, after a few lessons."
> Gilda's face is shifting from shock into horror.
> "What have you done to her? She - Dash, are you - are you okay in there?"
> Rainbow folds her wings back against herself, turning her head away from Gilda.
> The griffon hops down from her chair, taking a few steps towards you.
> "Dash, you don't have to hide from me... I'm not pissed, I..."
> Her gaze locks on you, eyes narrowed.
> "What the hell did you do to her?! She's... gone! She never acted like this."
"I made her obedient. If I am going to bother keeping her around, I can't take the risk of having her act out or injure me."
> "You..." Gilda snaps her beak shut, shaking her head. "You're fucking with me, right? This is... some kind of a joke! Why doesn't anyone-"
"Because what I do to her now isn't really that bad. If I were attacked, though, her safety might seriously be at risk."
> Gilda takes a moment to process what you are saying.
"You're a nutjob, you know that? You can't deal with the consequences of what you've done, so you hide behind her? That's low."
> Very honor-driven, the griffons.
> But not dumb.
"It keeps both of us safe."
"It keeps both of us safe."
> You run your hand through Dash's mane; she doesn't even bother moving beneath you despite how uncomfortable it must be making her.
> Gilda's claws are squeezed into little balls, but she's doing an admirable job of keeping herself calm.
> "Buck-"
"Since you are obviously displeased with this result, and I did not have to expend any time or resources on your request, I will not demand your payment. However."
> You stand up, Dash managing to catch herself on her hooves before she crashes to the floor.
"If you are even thinking of trying any 'rescue' attempts - any plans forming in your head right now - do not think you are the first one to try and cross me for some reason. Do not think I cannot defend myself."
> Gilda looks back to Dash, who has retreated to the farthest corner of the room.
> "Rainbow, I..."
> "Just go!" Dash's voice is shaky. "Just go. Don't do anything for me - he'll just hurt you."
"Indeed. If you cannot keep yourself from doing something stupid, your best bet is to simply leave."
> Gilda tenses herself, her wings flexing.
> "Yeah. Maybe I better buckin' do that."
> She turns and stalks out, tail lashing.
> You stand, showing her to the door.
> The storm outside has subsided somewhat, and Gilda pauses to give one last look back into your home before padding away into the night.
> You'll have to keep an eye on that one.
> Dash, on the other hand...
> The moment you step back into your room, it's obvious she's in a bad state.
> She's rolled herself into a ball and almost seems to be trying to cover her face with her tail.
> Not even the chats with her friends affected her this badly.
> Reaching down, you lift Dash up into your arms.
> She immediately looks up, your contact having broken her out of whatever fugue she had been in.
> "A-no- Master? Did I-"
"Shhh."
> You roll her on her back and start up a flight of stairs to your second floor, where your room resides.
> Dash shifts uncomfortably, always having disliked being carried like that.
> To babying, she said.
> "Am I in trouble, master? I didn't follow your orders...."
"No, you didn't - and you will have to be punished for this."
> She shivers lightly.
"But you did obey in the end, and so it will not be to bad."
> She pauses, trying to work over how she should respond to this.
> "Thank you, sir?"
> Her tone is still unsure, but you approve.
"Indeed."
> You arrive in your room, setting her down on your bed.
> Promptly she rolls right-side up again, looking up at your with nervous expectation.
> You just take a seat beside her.
"Show me your wing, Dash."
> Cautiously she extends one sky-blue wing to you, allowing you to take it in hand and gently guide it out until it is fully extended.
> Leaning in, you begin to work through her feathers - straightening each fully-grown one and checking it with a slight tug to make sure it is not loose.
> As soon as she realizes what you are going to do, Dash gives an unusually high yelp and buries her face in her hooves.
> You just smile and keep working.
> This was one of your favorite things to do when you needed to have a talk with Dash.
> She couldn't very easily pull away with her wing in your hand, and your preening efforts had quite an effect on her.
> From what you understood, it was the equivalent of a highly sensual massage.
> And to a pegasus, giving one without consent was quite a social breach.
> You had simply forbidden her to preen except for having you do so.
> Another way to make her reliant on you.
"So, Dash. Tell me - why was talking to that griffon so hard for you?"
> "...wasn't talking that was bad, master."
> Her voice is muffled, as she's kept her face firmly planted between her forelegs to hide the effects of your efforts.
"Oh? Being there, then. Obviously it hit you pretty hard."
> "...she was an old friend. From before Ponyville. We, uh... we competed pretty hard. At flying."
"Ah. I see... so you were embarrassed to let you see her flightless?"
> "Yeah... that, and, well, back then I was always acting real tough. I mean, I still am real tough! But I acted a lot more back then."
> You chuckle at her false bravado, moving on to the next row of feathers.
> "So, uh... yeah. It wasn't cool at all, letting her see me- eep!"
> Grinning, you set aside the loose feather you had pulled free and move on to the next.
"Please, continue?"
> "Well, uh, yeah. Was pretty lame to let her see me like this."
"She said you had a big argument the last time you spoke."
> Dash gives a slight groan of frustration.
> "She told you all that, huh? Yeah, she came around me home - uh, my old home - and started acting real grumpy that I had made some new... friends..."
> She trails off at those words.
> You stand, shifting to her opposite side and taking the unchecked wing in hand.
> Dash scoots away at you manhandling of her wing, but doesn't protest.
"And yet she came to try and find you."
> A brief silence holds, punctuated only by slight noises and involuntary wriggling from Dash every time you re-align or remove a twisted or loose feather.
"Did you know, she didn't know you were here and wanted me to find you?"
> "She did? Really?"
"Indeed."
> "Wow... that's... she must've really wanted to make up. That's... kind of cool of her, actually."
"Well, I hope you understand that just acting tough - or even being tough - are not all that matters now."
> "Oh yeah... my friends taught me that."
"Good. Speaking of which."
> You've reached the end of her wing, and now stretch out on the bed beside Dash.
> One arm is raised, and Dash cautiously moves over to join you.
> "Master?"
"Yes, come here, Dash. You did disobey me, and I did have to punish you for that... but you also faced down a difficult situation, and managed to obey me - even if a bit slowly."
> "Y-yes, master."
"And that's worth a reward. So please do come over here."
> She settles back down in the crook of your arm, eventually resting her head on the side of your chest.
> "Thank you, master."
"You earned it."
> You rest your hand on her head, stroking slightly.
> Unlike before, now that it is just the two of you and Dash is not so self-conscious, the gesture is somewhat comforting.
> She ruffles her wings slightly, letting them settle somewhere more comfortable.
> "Master?"
> Some time had simply passed along silently, you absentmindedly stroking Dash's mane while staring out the widow into the forest beyond your home.
"Yes, Dash?"
> "Why do you do this?"
"...do what, exactly?"
> "Be... nice to me? Why not just... put me in a cell, if all I'm doing is keeping Twilight away from you? Why not just punish me if all you are doing is making me your... slave, or something?"
> You sigh softly.
"Because just appearing tough all the time is not the point, just like you said. Fact is, I care about you. Like you, even. Yes, I will keep you in line when you step out... but I can't do just that."
> Running your hand down a bit, you start scratching her withers lightly, feeling the well-developed muscles there.
> Even as your captive, Dash has not forgotten about her exercise.
"If I just... brutalized you all the time, well. You might obey me, but never because you'd understand that I am caring for you as well."
> "O-oh..."
> You continue to stroke, working your way down to her flanks.
> "Um... well, thanks, I guess. For not... just being mean all the time."
> You grin, eyes sliding closed.
"You're welcome, Dash."
 
--------
 
> Another day.
> Seems you fell asleep in your clothes last night.
> Considering the warm, softly breathing mass still curled against your side, it's not hard to imagine why.
"Good morning, Dash."
> She stirs slightly, rolling over and burying her head further beneath the covers.
> Heh.
> You reach down and rub between Dash's ears; she makes a soft little noise and starts to nudge her head back up into your hand.
> Grinning slightly, you move on to lightly scratch one ear, running your fingertips through the velvety-soft fuzz covering it.
> Dash offers a small flick of the ear in return, tilting her head to offer it to your hand.
> "S'feels'oodom."
> you have no idea what she just said.
> But the face she is making is just to amusing to stop.
> You continue scratching, using all your fingers.
"What'd you say, Dash?"
> Her response is still mumbled, but rather more coherent.
> "Said, this feels good, Mo-"
> Her eyes fly open as she realizes who she is speaking to.
> Not her mother.
> It takes a moment, but Dash soon stretches out and lays her head back down on you, closing her eyes again.
> "It feels good."
"...did you just call me your mother, Dash?"
> She flushes bright red.
> "...did n-"
> Her mind catches up with her mouth, and she stops the lie before it can escape.
> "-nyyyyeah. I did. She, um... she used to... do that sometimes for me whe I was a filly, to wake me up."
> You laugh softly, resume the scratches.
> If it upsets Dash that you've accidentally mimicked her parent's actions, she doesn't show it.
> Instead her mouth settles into a happy little smile that lets you know you've done well.
"You're in a good mood this morning, Dash."
> "...I slept well."
> She doesn't comment on why, but it isn't hard to guess.
> She always sleeps soundly when granted actual contact with a living being.
> Probably made her feel less alone.
> "Anon? Master?"
"What is it, Dash?"
> "Um, I was thinking... about something after last night?"
> Could be good, or bad depending on what she was thinking on.
"Well, go ahead then."
> "Um, I was just wondering... if you, um... well, you said you cared for me, right?"
> She's obviously nervous, well aware she is treading on dangerous territory.
"Yes?"
> "So, um... look, I know you can't just let me go, but, um... could I maybe go outside some time?"
"Outside?"
> "Yeah! Not far or anything, but, um... like, just far enough to maybe jog around a bit? I'm, um, it gets kind of boring in here."
> Occasionally you let Dash out on an upper balconies.
> The threat of a fall she couldn't simply fly away from typically kept her suitably away from the edge, but she is asking for a lot more.
"I will think about it, Dash. When I feel I can trust you, I might be willing to let you out. That's not a promise, though."
> It doesn't have to be.
> Even your vague offer is enough to send Dash into an excited little wriggle.
> "Ooooh, yesyesyes! Thank you, master! Thank you!"
> Laughing at her enthusiasm, you run a hand down to scratch at the back of her neck.
> She rolls her head back into it, wings twitching in joy.
"I expect your best behavior if you want to do that, though, Dash."
> "Yeah, I can do that! Rainbow Dash does not back down from a challenge."
> Especially one with a reward like that.
"Well then. Why don't you start by going and bringing my breakfast back up while I take a shower, hrmmm?"
> Dash hops down from the head, a slight spring in her step and flick in her tail as she trots out from your room.
> ...well. This certainly could be a valuable reward from the way she is reacting to it.
> You'd have to be extremely careful about security, make sure nobody was around.
> But from the way she reacted?
> This is something Dash wants very, very badly.
> You resolve to think it over as you step into the shower.
 
--------
 
> BZZZZT BZZZZT BZZZZT.
> Your head shoots up.
> Proximity alarm. Someone is approaching your home.
> You flip the alarm off, closing your current project and bringing the security net up on screen.
> Staring heavily at the screen, you note the contact it displays.
> One pony, berift of horn or wings.
> Bringing several camera feeds up, you study the figure closely as it - he, from the heavier build - makes his way up the mountainside.
> Something strikes you as wrong, though.
> You strain your eyes, trying to figure out what it might be...
> His saddlebags.
> They're far to small for a pony who had trekked up the mountain on his own.
> Most of your travelers - like Gilda, now a week back - opted to make camp somewhere nearby and approach you from there.
> Some came to your door with everything they could carry, but that was rarer...
> This one, though?
> His pouches were tiny, barely enough to carry a full day's food.
> Nowhere near enough for hiking up a mountain.
> Squeezing down the map for a moment, you look for any other recent activity in the area.
> Anything that would explain where he came from.
> But there is nothing.
> If he has made camp, it is well outside of the sensor clusters you had your drones lay.
> Again looking back to the figure, you frown.
> Something is quite odd here.
> And honestly, it's making you curious.
> With a flick of your fingers, you send a pair of drones to shadow him as he approaches.
> Time to see what is going on here.
"Dash!"
> You find her upstairs, breathing heavily amid exercise machines you had brought up mostly for her.
> "Master? Is something the matter?"
"We're going to have another guest soon, Dash. When they come, you are to go down into the basement and let the door lock."
> "Master?"
> That got her attention.
> Dash knows you only order her into the basement when you thought that there was a truly worrisome guest coming.
> It kept her safe.
> The basement was far more securely built than your 'public' house.
> It would take a determined enemy indeed to dig Dash out of the basement.
"You heard me. Same deal as normal - you go down there, I'll come get you when things are clear."
> "Okay, Master. Um... if I can ask, who is it?"
> She probably wanted to know if it was someone she knew.
> Sorry, Dash. Your princess friends aren't the only ones who can make me nervous.
> The look your give her adequately communicates that she will not be getting an answer.
> Dash shrinks back. "Sorry, master!"
"Just get down there."
> She shoots off without question, launching herself down the stairs.
> You wait until the basement door closes after her with a thud before returning to your screens.
> The figure is still steadfastly making its way up the mountainside to your home.
> ...strange...
 
> By the time the visitor arrives, you have had plenty of time to observe them.
> A reasonably well-built earth pony stallion, brown coat and blackish mane and tail.
> Mark was just two hammers, a symbol that could mean anything.
> Entirely unremarkable.
> Which is why you are even more concerned.
> He had marched doggedly up the slop while barely taking any moments to rest.
> Pushing himself like that is not something the typical stallion did, or was capable of doing.
> Not unless they had a history of mountain climbing or something.
> Or military service.
> Unlike with Gilda, you choose to make him come to you.
> The front door slides open under the touch of his hoof, but you are not there to greet him.
> Instead he makes his way slowly into your home, finding his way through the doors you have allowed to remain open.
> When he enters the meeting room, you are waiting.
> No meal has been set out this time; instead you sit alone at the end of the elongated table that dominates the room.
"And who might you be, then?"
> His head whips around to center on you.
> "Forge Strike, sir."
> He offers a clumsy half-bow.
> You shake your head.
"Don't do that. I'm not a prince or a king."
> He straightens up, but shows no signs of embarassment.
> "I've come to ask something of you."
"I rather figured. Do please come sit down?"
> All but one of the chairs in the room was built for a quadruped body, leaving no question as to which was yours.
> He takes one of the two closest to you.
"You've heard my cost?"
> "Yes."
> It's a simple answer, given unwaveringly.
> He knows what he is dealing with.
"Well then. What is your request?"
> "I need to get in to Canterlot."
> You raise one eyebrow.
"That is it?"
> He nods, once.
> "There's someone there I need to see. She, um... they don't want me to be there. And none of the other smugglers will help."
"If they're not helping, then you're not just merely someone with a restraining order from a filly you want to see."
> He nods.
"Are you going to give details?"
> "I messed up rather badly the last time I was there."
"That's not terribly helpful."
> "...okay, look - someone rather powerful is angry at me, and I need to-"
"So you hike up the mountainside to see if I can find a way to get you in?"
> He nods.
"I will help you..."
> Forge Strike perks up.
"...when you tell me the whole story."
> Forge pauses, and hangs his head.
> "Look, uh... it's kind of embarrassing, and I'm not going to hurt anyone-"
> Except maybe for hurting the marriage of whoever he had been smooching.
> "-so if you could just get me into the city to talk to her once, I'd really appreciate it."
"All details, Forge. I don't do favors to people who won't tell me the truth.
> "It was Stalwart Shield's wife."
> Your eyebrows go up.
> Stalwart Shield was the new marshal of Canterlot, since Shining Armor had run off to his little crystal city.
> A dedicated soldier, and utterly impossible for you to get any favors out of.
> "Here, um, take a look-"
> Forge Strike fishes about in his meager saddlebags, withdrawing a pair of lockets that he dangles from his mouth to you.
> Taking it, you pop it open to find the pictures within.
> One is his, the other a mare.
> Out of sight of Forge, you pull up the image of Stalwart's wife on a small screen before you.
> Definitely her.
> ...heh, if it rustles Stalwart a bit to do this, you might actually enjoy it.
"Tell me your whole story, from the beginning, and I will agree."
> "Is that your cost?"
> You shake your head.
"No. That will come later. I want to know if your story stands up."
> Forge Strike seems to think it over carefully, but eventually gives in and nods.
> "So, I was actually in the guard for a while - heh, look at me now - and that's when I met her. I was guarding a party one night that Stalwart was attending..."
> You knit your fingers as he starts to tell his story, trying to spot any differences or inconsistencies in the tale he told.
> There aren't any, though, and if he's a soldier he's also the world's best-acting soldier.
> It definitely effects him to talk about what he'd had with Stalwart's wife.
> "...so gave all the guards an unofficial order to keep me out of Canterlot. They know me from when I was in the guard; if even one of them see me, it'll all be over. I was just hoping you could help me get back in?"
> Now reasonably certain his tale is honest, you set your mind on thinking of a way to get him past the guards.
> It figured he'd been forced to come to you - smuggling small items in or out of Canterlot was one thing; smuggling in an entire pony, and one the guard was already angry with, is another.
"I believe what you request will be possible. My cost will be this: While you are in Canterlot, you will drop off a package at a given address. Do you understand?"
> "Yes."
"Good. Go to the town of Croxton's Pass - it's not a three-day walk from here - and wait there for a train in four days' time. I will arrange for someone to have someone ready to take you in."
> "You are certain it will work?"
"I did not build this reputation by failing."
> "Good. Then..."
> Forge Strike stands. "I am to deliver the true message to you."
> Instantly you are on guard.
> You've made a few enemies in your business, and coming in lying to you didn't suggest he was that friendly.
> But what had you missed? His story was perfect, and-
> The hiss-crack of flame violently intrudes on your thoughts as Forge Strike immolates himself in a greenish ball of flame.
"What the fu-"
> Before you can finish sputtering the curse, the tongues of fire dye down.
> But Forge Strike is not standing there anymore.
> "My mistress, Queen Chrysalis of the hive, has sent me to relay this message to you."
> Fucking. Changelings.
> You finally get to meet one of them - the tales you'd been hearing for a while, were making you curious, to say the least - and you get played.
> That's why he didn't need a bigger pack, you realize.
> He'd probably flown to somewhere just beyond the edge of your security perimeter before putting on the disguise.
> You grit your teeth and try to salvage what you can from the situation.
"You're quite good."
> The changeling's wings buzz in a whirring blur, a strangely dry noise.
> "I am honored by your complement. What I spoke of was not a lie. This one had the honor of being a scout for the invasion of Canterlot."
"Ah. Your experience was not entirely made up, then."
> "Yes. I approached Stalwart's wife to try and get close to him."
> He (it? You're not really sure about changeling physiology) pauses.
> "...her love was also quite tasty."
> Interesting.
> Clearly this changeling isn't just some mere grunt if he's been sent on two of what you'd call fairly high-risk missions...
> "And the reason for your faked offer."
> Forge-changeling shifts in place.
> "I cannot answer that. My queen has not chosen to reveal this to me."
"Right. Well then, what has she told you to tell me?"
> He perks up, standing perfectly straight - almost as if standing at attention.
> "From the illustrious Queen Chrysalis, Queen of the Swarm and all it reaches, to the creature Anonymous. I find myself in need of your services; in a week's time I shall arrive to consult with you on how you may best be of service to my cause. I expect you to be adequately prepared and ready to serve an individual of my status and needs. If you are, your reward shall be considerate."
> ...that is possibly the most circuitous route way you have ever heard someone ask for help.
> It's like Chrysalis is doing everything she can to avoid outright acknowledging that she is the one asking for your assistance.
> More importantly, though, this presents something of an issue.
> While you weren't exactly friendly the princesses, you tried to keep your 'business' limited to things that didn't directly piss them off even further.
> No need to give them another excuse to bump you up even further on their list of problems to be dealt with.
> You're fairly sure that 'aiding the queen of the changelings' was somewhere in that group.
> But to spurn her directly... well, you'd already been played once by a changeling, and it was a fair bet they could make a lot more trouble for you if Chrysalis was angered.
> This is going to be a delicate balance.
"Tell your queen that I look forward to her arrival, and am quite ready to discuss ways in which I might be of assistance to her."
> Got to keep that royal ego stroked.
"However, as with any client I cannot promise that I will be able to assist her without hearing what she is looking to get from me. I do hope that our negotiations will go well, and that we will be able to come to an adequate agreement. That is all."
> The changeling nods.
> "It will be delivered. With your permission, may I depart to deliver your message?"
"Of course."
> You motion to the doorway he had entered through.
> The changeling offers you a slight bow - very slight, you notice - and turns to depart.
> The second he is gone from your room, you are watching the changeling on the camera feeds.
> This time he doesn't even bother disguising himself.
> His wings whir into motion the second he is clear of your front door, lifting him up and off into the sky.
> You watch until he vanishes from your perimeter, then lean back in the chair.
> A changeling queen, coming to visit.
> This could be problematic indeed.
> Not in the least, because between what you'd heard and the contents of her message, you suspected this Chrysalis was egocentric to the point of instability.
> You're not sure how a 'no' answer would go over with her.
> Probably best to put Dash safely away in the basement when she comes too, maybe a couple of extra levels down for extra protection.
> ...speaking of which, you should go let her out of there again.
> Except for one, itty bitty little problem.
> Dash isn't in the room you left her in.
> It's an unfinished storage room with a few stacks of various objects laying about, so not much room to hide.
> And definitely no multicolored pegasi to be found.
> Where, then?
> Not upstairs, the door from the basement was locked.
> Another door catches your eye, though.
> The one leading further into the lower basement levels, and beyond.
> It's half open.
"She wouldn't have..."
> Dash knows she isn't supposed to go down there, and normally the doors are all locked.
> You must have forgotten to reset the locks when the changeling appeared marching up the mountain path so quickly.
> And Dash took advantage of your sloppiness.
> You grit your teeth, rubbing your forehead in frustration.
"Oh, she is so going in the box for this."
 
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