For Want of a Mask

by LDSocrates

Different Strokes

Sunlight trickled through Everfree’s thick canopy the next morning as Chrysalis lay in bed. She assumed it was morning, at least. All she could see was that the sun was up, but she could in no way tell where in the sky it was. The hut was quiet save for her soft breathing, birds chirping outside, and the sounds of other assorted wildlife. Not even the crackle of the fire under the cauldron kept her company.

“Blasted birds,” she mumbled under her breath. “Lucky I can’t use magic or I’d have blasted one to pieces to scare the others off by now.” She scowled through the incessant noise as she ruminated on progressively more cruel things to do to the pests when she became well again. Eventually her mind wandered from the minor annoyance of songbirds to the outright fury of the ponies that put her in her condition.

“Won’t make the mistake of leaving the bride alive again, even if she is an alicorn,” she muttered to herself. “I should’ve waited until I figured out how to kill an immortal anyway. I’ll have to get rid of her sister in law, too, just for being such a thorn in my plot. I should never have sent her into the Canterlot mines with the bride; burning her to a crisp on the spot would have been worth the risk of someone finding the remains. When I return, that’ll be too quick, though.” She cackled softly. “Ohoh, far too quick. Maybe I’ll dress up her brother in full battle gear and suck every last drop of love out of him; watch as the hate-filled husk that’s left kills her. Yes, that sounds good… though, how in the name of Tartarus’ flaming pits am I going to harvest this country now that-”

Her vengeful musings came to a grinding halt when she heard the latch on the front door come undone. The hinges creaked and hooves met wood, and within seconds in came Zecora to her line of sight, a hooded robe draped across her back.

“Where have you been?” Chrysalis demanded, lifting her head from her pillow ever so slightly. “I woke up hours ago to find you gone, and I think your rancid painkiller has worn off.”

“I apologize for being a little slow; I did not expect you to miss me so,” Zecora chuckled.

Chrysalis huffed. “I miss you like a booster shot to the plot; painful, embarrassing, but ultimately necessary for my health.”

Zecora rolled her eyes as she hung up her cloak, revealing saddlebags underneath. “There were some things I needed in town, so I went there to track them down. I will have your medicine mixed in a bit, but I haven’t even had the fire lit.”

The changeling chuckled darkly as her zebra host took off her saddlebags and rustled through them. “No doubt everyone’s talking about what I did, hm?”

“The news has set many tongues afire, and it seems you and yours have earned a lot of ire,” Zecora said, pulling out a few jars and sacks from her bags. “There is much hate for you and your hive, though most just seem glad the princesses are alive.”

Chrysalis scoffed. “Naturally. Wouldn’t want their precious princesses coming to any harm, now would they? Never mind all the civilians that were there; as long as a fat alicorn plot sits on the throne, all is right with the world.”

“From what I’ve heard, Celestia is no mere sitter. Though from what I’m hearing, you’re quite bitter.” Zecora leaned down and blew on the wood under the cauldron, a fire suddenly springing to life.

“Ponies frankly disgust me,” Chrysalis said with a guttural snarl, as if thinking about it collected bile in her throat. “They’re herd animals that cling to an arbitrary social ladder based on gold and cloth and hearsay. All their talk of love and peace and tolerance are simple pretentions I can take away just by opening my jaws.”

“Believe that if you will and drown your heart in spite,” Zecora started, shaking a few samples of her purchases into the cauldron, “but a wolf can take its prey’s blood with a simple bite.”

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow at her host. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean, oh wise hermit?” she asked dryly.

“It means that just because something can be lost, it does not mean its absence lacks a heavy cost. You speak as if love is some mask or lie, but any world worth living in needs no small supply.” Zecora picked up her stirring staff and did just that, the brew inside her cauldron bubbling even though Chrysalis couldn’t recall the zebra ever filling it with water.

Chrysalis set aside her questions about how Zecora was doing what she was doing and huffed. “You haven’t seen someone until they get sucked dry by a changeling. Love is a keystone in a very broad arch. Take it away, and down comes their loyalty, their compassion, their self esteem, and their trust. Eventually all that’s left is a hateful, treacherous, cruel, suicidal, paranoid husk of a creature. The very thing that defines goodness and holds civilization together can come undone as easily as any knot. It’s pathetically fragile at best.”

“As is any great work of art, but just because it is weak does not mean you should tear it apart,” Zecora said evenly.

Chrysalis’ brow furrowed and her lips curled into a frown. “Don’t preach to me, hermit. It isn’t a matter of should. It’s a matter of necessity. Without gorging on love every now and then, we die.” She stopped and shook her head with a scoff. “Though don’t get me wrong; I have no qualms about it. Robbing these pathetic creatures of their petty, monotonous lives to feed my children and I is almost too good for them.”

Zecora hummed in thought as she stirred, not saying a word.

“Nothing to say to that, do you?” Chrysalis chuckled. “No witty rhymes or fortune cookie wisdom?”

“I just wonder if, dear queen, there were a way to get love by other means,” Zecora mused, taking her stirring staff out, dripping with orange ichor. “If some arrangement could be made, if on some deal you could decide, so that you and yours would no longer have to skulk, hunt, and hide.” She trotted out of sight again.

“Nobody would ever give love willingly to a changeling, save for a fool like yourself,” Chrysalis snarled, looking up at the ceiling. “We’re monsters that haunt the minds of grooms and brides alike, hoping to their demi-god princess that the pony they’re marrying isn’t one of us, with ridiculous rituals and methods to make sure they aren’t.” Chrysalis scoffed while Zecora came back with her wooden cup, dipping it into her cauldron. “A long time ago there were even changeling hunts, though often they resulted in some poor colt or mare getting lynched or burned at the stake for no reason. Even if I wanted my children to freely associate with such petty, ignorant beasts, it would never work.”

“You have obviously given this possibility much thought,” Zecora observed, trotting over with the smell of burnt plastic in the air. “One would think that you’ve considered acceptance being sought.”

Chrysalis glared at the zebra, ignoring the offered medicine. “You’re prying too much into the thoughts and life of a mare that could easily destroy you when she recovers. Why do you even care, anyway? Any one of my sons or daughters would have happily sucked you dry if we’d succeeded in our coup. Your love is so rich that I may have kept you to myself to snack on. Healing me won’t earn you any favors; you’re still my prey.”

Zecora stayed silent, motioning towards the changeling’s medicine. With a low growl, Chrysalis relented and put her lips to the edge of the cup, the zebra tilting it up for her to drink.

“I expect nothing in return or any reward,” Zecora said softly as Chrysalis choked the brew down, “nor do I expect mercy from you and your horde. My charity comes from the depths of my heart, even if others would not think my actions smart.”

Chrysalis nudged the cup aside after it had been drained, gagging at the rancid taste. “If I didn’t already feel like vomiting from that foul potion, I certainly do now from that saccharine nonsense.”

“Nonsense or not, it is how I feel.” Zecora turned around and cantered away out of sight once more. “As long as I have done good I don’t care if I’m your meal.”

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. “Some would consider that suicidal.”

“That would not be the first time that has been said. After all, I live in the forest the whole nation dreads,” Zecora chuckled darkly as she trotted back into view, sitting in the doorway to the bedroom’s alcove. “This place is where darkness and evil is fraught, so really, who is to say that I am not?”

Chrysalis looked the zebra over before looking out the window with a sigh. “The more and more I talk to you, the more and more you vex me, hermit.”

“I tend to have that effect, I’m told, but you confuse me too, if I may be so bold. Your love for your children is quite clear, yet you harm all others with great cheer,” Zecora said. “I don’t understand how someone with such a trait can also harbor so much bile and hate.”

“Keep wondering and get used to disappointment,” the queen scoffed as a crow flew by the window. “I’ve already told you far too much already. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you so much in the first place.”

Zecora chuckled. “How long has it been since you had a candid conversation with someone that wasn’t one of your relations?”

Chrysalis’ ears drooped slightly and her eyes narrowed. “I can’t remember; decades at least. This is the first time I’ve even been out of disguise in a long, long time.”

She felt the zebra’s nose nudge her side, and she turned her head to face her again. A sad, pitying smile was on Zecora’s face. “Then perhaps since you don't talk much to others, you should begin, and I mean to ponies who are not one of your disguised kin.”

Chrysalis let out a low hiss before turning back to the window. “Do not presume to know what’s good for me, hermit. I have lived hundreds of your lifetimes and will live hundreds more. My wants and needs are beyond your understanding.”

“I do not think they’re that bizarre; after all, I’ve understood you thus far,” Zecora said cheekily.

“Keep pushing it and you’ll find out how hard it is to understand anything with your brains outside your head,” Chrysalis snarled.

“Very well, I will leave you be; besides, the potion should kick in shortly,” Zecora said, her hoofsteps getting farther away. “I have some herbs I must gather from the wood. Please, let yourself rest, it will do you some good.”

Chrysalis just gave a noncommittal growl in return before the door opened and closed again, leaving her alone once more. The scant sunlight that could pierce the veil of leaves shined down on her as her eyelids grew heavier. Unable to fight it anymore, she let them close, and sleep took her once more.

Comments

[Nightheart]

once again i am absurdly pleased with your zecora. and the slow build to her cracking chrysalis's carapace as it were. once again i eagerly await more and fail to regret adding a favorite to this tale. though as i said previously if you actually ship these two it may well kill me with happy.

[LDSocrates]

2796527
At least someone does. Thanks to my little mistake, nobody read this chapter. Though Zecora doesn't get much time on the show, I see her like I write her here: intelligent, kind, though a bit sly and sassy when she wants to be. As far as Chrysalis goes, I don't intend to fully compromise her villain status like most romance stories do. Any other things you like?

[Nightheart]

2799287 i really like your take on chrysalis's world view and her attitudes and philosophy on her food source. the fact that its not based on anger at her forced expulsion is refreshing to read. the fact that she practically pitys the pretty little ponys is awesome.

your take on chrysalis's physiology is nice as well. not fully comprising her villian status as you mentioned would be a refreshing change and quite a challenge, i look forward to seeing how that unfolds. as i practically gushed before your view on zecora matches my own so good on ya there. the slow paceing is also a good thing,far to many ship fics race to the finish in my humble and reads far to many ship fics opinion.

and the banter between the two is amazing,well thought out and intelligent,also a bit of a rarity with most villains being represented as rather one dimensional.
hope that helps a bit. i eagerly await more dear author.

[Discord Kantus]

This didn't appear in my inbox for some reason. Whatever, got it now.

[Veryveryfluttershy]

2799287 Mistake?

[Happy_Jack]

A few minor hiccups here and there, the 'rhythm', "Speaking with your children is well and good, but sometimes you need to speak with someone outside your brood." was the only massive problem I had, that line is almost offensively bad. but they're few and far between so I can forgive them.

I really like it so far, I love it when it's a slow build up to cracking a character like Chrysalis' shell, and having it be Zecora, another 'outsider' type character along with one of my favorites, makes it even better. I look forward to future chapters.