Queenling

by Mare Macabre

Vereor

The door shut with a quiet click behind Celestia as she approached her guard on duty. Night Watch, a dark gray unicorn with light brown eyes, spared her a glance before returning his attention to the room beyond the one-way mirror. A thick mahogany table dominated the room, and at two sides were set high backed chairs—one of them holding a stone faced, hornless changeling.

“She won’t talk, Highness,” Night Watch muttered in agitation. “Hasn’t said anything since she woke up. Won’t drink either.”

Princess Celestia strode up beside him and looked through the window. Her steely gaze locked onto the changeling and remained focused on her face, her eyes boring holes into the unsuspecting insequine. A chill seemed to run through the changeling, drawing a look of surprise from the pony at the princess’ side, and her eyes shifted up to stare blindly back at the glaring alicorn. Celestia let out a controlled breath, aware—or at least assuming—that it was her emotions rather than the intensity of her stare that had attracted the changeling’s attention, and fought to reign said emotions in.

“It’s a lovely night, Night Watch,” Celestia commented absently. “Spend it with someone.”

Night Watch shot another look Celestia’s way, but quickly turned his eyes to the floor. Were he any less experienced within the guard he might have argued about his duty or suggested the princess be the one to spend time elsewhere, but the subtly unsettling tone of her voice and the haze of almost restrained magic filling the small room told him well enough that this was not a time for chivalry. Far from it, if he guessed correctly.

With a sharp salute he turned and marched out of the room, leaving the Sun Princess alone with her prisoner. With a glance over her shoulder and a bright golden light from her horn, the rosette of the heavy door to the interrogation rooms began to glow with heat. Celestia watched patiently as the scalding metal plate warped and deformed, ensuring no key could fit inside, then turned her head forward and quietly locked the door with a flick of her horn. Sure of her isolation, the solar monarch opened the inner door and trotted into the interrogation room proper.

---

A wall of heat impacted Chelicera as the door opened. She winced, her eyes tearing at the intensity of the anger that assaulted her senses. The changeling blinked tears from her eyes as they adjusted to the searing air and focused on the tall, blurry figure that had entered the room. She blinked in surprise at finding, at first glance, Princess Luna striding into the room, but recovered quickly.

“You will answer to us, changeling,” Luna ordered coldly, sitting across the table. “Why did you attack our sister?”

Chelicera narrowed her eyes but said nothing. The pony opposite her waited moment to hear her answer, then leapt up from her seat and slammed her hooves on the table with a thunderous bang.

“You will answer us, changeling!” the princess of night snarled, magic flaring. “Why did you attack our sister?”

“I am not a hatchling, princess,” the changeling hissed, her accent radically different than before. Rather than the sloppy, consonant heavy accent of earlier, her speech was now clear and curt, with the slightest of controlled drawls. “Do you hope or assume I am stupid enough to forget the feel of your emotions?”

Princess Luna glared daggers at the unflinching changeling before lowering herself back into her seat and letting her disguise fall away. Celestia crossed her hooves over the table and took a long breath to further suppress her feelings. It was a horrible thought to know that her usual external mask would not be enough to conceal her thoughts from this creature.

“I’ll ask as myself then,” she said once she had calmed slightly. “Why did you attack me?”

Now the changeling shut up, returning to her stoic pose and watching Celestia with a bored expression. Hot anger flared in the princess again before it was choked by calming thoughts—her face all the while unchanged—and she made a mental list of alternate approaches to the question.

“Were you left behind after last year’s assault?” the princess asked in a more curious tone.

Silence.

“Most of the ponies that were with you were indeed ponies. What did you offer them to make them agree to follow you?”

Silence.

“I don’t imagine it’s likely, but would you be useful as a hostage to draw your queen out of hiding?”

Chelicera blinked.

“My queen? Do I look like a drone to you?” she growled indignantly. “I am queen!”

Both pony and changeling stared at each other in surprise. Chelicera clenched her jaws and focused on the far wall. Celestia sized the insequine creature up with a new light. She did indeed look different from the stout legionnaires that had followed Queen Chrysalis in attacking Canterlot the year before. She was slender by comparison and much taller, similar in stature to her adoptive niece. Her eyes and membranous "hair" were also a different color; her mane and tail were a dull brown and her eyes had a shimmering bronze coloration. Her horn, Celestia remembered suddenly, was also long and knotted and wickedly curved near the tip—very unlike the short thorns of the army that had invaded her city.

Still, her voice, size, and demeanor made it clear to the princess of sunlight that the changeling was young. Younger, she imagined, than Cadence had been when she achieved princesshood.

“You?” she asked quietly, drawing the changeling’s attention. “You’re the queen?”

The changeling’s eye twitched before she gave a curt jerk of the head, which Celestia assumed was a nod.

“What happened to Chrysalis?”

“Who is Chrysalis?” the changeling asked with a frown.

Celestia’s brow creased. “Queen Chrysalis. The old queen. What happened to her?”

Chelicera quirked an eyebrow. “Old queen?”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “The queen before you. The queen of the changelings! What—“ She stopped, reigning in her annoyance, then continued. “Was she killed by the shield spell?”

The changeling sat, quietly staring at the white alicorn, for several seconds before blinking and straightening in her seat.

“You don’t know anything about changelings, do you?” Celestia shifted uncomfortably at the accusation, and Chelicera sensed a begrudging embarrassment from the princess that confirmed her suspicion. “You just said you had dealings with another queen, you didn’t learn anything from that?”

“I learned that changelings are cruel, disgusting, vehement creatures,” the alicorn growled through her teeth, snapping the confusion out of Chelicera, “creatures that feed on the purest of emotions and leave their prey drained of their lust for life, dazed and confused, and weak beyond their ability to function. When this energy is not given freely through deception it’s taken by force—that or substituted with fear,” she spat, rousing the young queen. “My dealings with Queen Chrysalis have taught me that changelings are vile. Worse, they are dangerous.” Celestia stood, menacingly stalking around the table toward the increasingly uncomfortable changeling. “Chrysalis managed to overpower me after feeding on the love of my niece and nephew. Even if I showed restraint that is no simple task. A changeling queen, fed by the love of an army, with a personal vendetta against me?”

Chelicera swallowed hard but held her ground as Celestia penetrated her comfort zone, leaning her face close to the young changeling’s and impressing on her the full difference of their height. The princess left her statement unfinished, but the implication was clear. She considered the changeling a threat, a serious one, and wouldn’t show her any leniency. Chelicera set her jaw and puffed out her chest, determined not to appear nervous in the face of Celestia’s unspoken threat. The alicorn almost looked like she was about to snap at the young queen, but her steely mask cracked as a thought crossed her mind and she withdrew from the changeling’s face.

“You have no idea who Chrysalis is?” she asked suddenly, catching Chelicera off guard.

The changeling narrowed an eye. “I don’t. Changeling queens rarely meet, but I haven’t heard of her either.”

Celestia absorbed this, her right eyebrow twitching as she thought. “Then who were you talking about earlier? ‘An enemy I had no right to be surprised by,’ you said. You weren’t talking about the changeling attack?”

Now the changeling scowled. “I was talking about Discord. A being of pure chaos and disorder, representing everything you stand against, running amok with his power the first opportunity he got—rather than execute him, as you should have, you imprisoned him. Within the walls of your palace no less. You gave him more than a millennium to gather his strength and find a way to escape and then you sat by, powerless to stop him, while he led a campaign to plunge the world into disarray.” Chelicera glared angrily at the princess, who had regained her stern expression and let loose another flare of anger. “A real leader, a proper ruler, would have eliminated the threat to her people, not put it off so that new generations could experience the terror of their ancestors.”

Indignant fury exploded out of the towering pony princess, nearly knocking Chelicera bodily from her seat. To her credit, the only sign of this that escaped Celestia’s well-practiced mask was a twitch of the eye and a flick of the ear, but the changeling’s reaction made it clear to her that her usual level of discipline could not hide her feelings from her. Instead, with the knowledge that they were fully alone in the interrogation rooms—for the first time in over a year—Celestia let her lips curl back in a furious snarl and her brow crease with anger and focus. Even though Chelicera could clearly and distinctly feel the pony’s emotions, seeing her drop her persona and let them play across her face was terrifying—mostly for what it represented.

“What do you know about being a leader?” Celestia asked in a strained, tired voice. “Tell me, what exactly do you know about ruling a nation?”

“I—“

“Nothing!” the alicorn roared, letting her magic flare with her anger and fill the room with a stifling heat. “You are a child! A renegade with three drones and a handful of ponies! Where is your hive, queenling? Where are the people you serve with such wisdom of what is right?”

Chelicera leaned away from the looming princess, her body shaking and eyes restlessly seeking a point to focus on—one that wasn’t the blazing lilac eyes that pierced her hard, chitinous shell with their scorching intensity. “I-I. . . I haven’t—“

“Haven’t?” Celestia snapped, her snout almost jabbing the changelings face.

“I h-haven’t nest—“

“You haven’t nested?” Celestia gasped in mock surprise. “How can that be? You obviously have such a vast wealth of knowledge for governing your people.” She blinked, then reeled back as though having a revelation. “My god, you’re right! You know everything about how to govern your kingdom. Because you have no kingdom! And thus you know nothing!”

Chelicera winced as the alicorn screamed into her ear, tears from the mix of blistering heat and burning rage streaming down her face. Of all the potential scenarios she had imagined while awaiting the princess to interrogate her this was the furthest from anything she had expected. It was rumored that Princess Luna still had a habit of breaking into the old manner of speaking—one of deafening volume and duotone voice—but no one had even hinted that Celestia might still know how to use the old speech. Regardless, there was the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, blasted at full volume, fueled by righteous indignation, all but throwing Chelicera from her seat with its sheer force.

“How dare you lecture me? You know nothing about leadership! Because you are not a leader! You are not a ruler! You! Are not! A QUEEN!”

Something heavy slammed into Celestia’s side, throwing her to the wall and pinning her there. She yelled in shock, then again in anger, and turned a blazing horn toward the thing that trapped against the cold stone at her side. She opened her mouth, a spell in her horn and roar building in her throat, but a vicious slap across the face stunted them both.

The alicorn blinked in surprise, the white hot magic instantly leaving her and relieving the room of its boiling heat. She looked again at the thing that had struck her, then reared back as she saw her sister’s horrified face staring back at her. She looked beyond the scared face into the theater, swallowing as she found the outer door destroyed and the room filled with anxious guards.

“Sister?”

Celestia shook herself and focused on her sister, the red mark on her cheek already vanishing in a golden aura. With a cough she straightened, and Luna removed herself from the taller mare.

“We heard you from the throne room,” Luna said cautiously, frowning as the princess of dawn winced as if hurt. “What happened?”

Celestia set her jaw, determined to remain composed, and spared a glance at the changeling. The rush of the other princess had knocked her seat, and the table, over and the young queen was huddled in the corner of the room, watching the alabaster alicorn with a mix of deeply rooted fear and indignant anger.

Chelicera felt a hot wave of contempt radiate from the princess—mingling with the worry of her sister and their guards to form an awful, bitter taste in her mouth—and flinched as Celestia spread her wings and turned on her heel, trotting out of the room and through the quickly parting sea of guardsponies. Luna too watched her sister’s departure with deep concern. She looked after her sister as she rounded a corner and continued down the hall beyond, then leered at the changeling in the corner.

“What did you do to her?” Luna hissed.

The changeling looked away from the door to the Night Mother, her body still shaking uncontrollably but expression unreadable.

“Answer me, damn you!” Luna growled, advancing on the changeling, horn lighting.

“Did you learn that from her or did she learn that from you?” the changeling asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Luna stopped, her eyebrows twitching, then glowered at the huddled insequine. She snapped her head back, assuming a commanding pose, then turned to her entourage.

“Return the prisoner to her cell,” the princess ordered sharply, bringing the assembled guards to attention as she strode through them. “I will speak with my sister.”

---

Twilight’s eyes fluttered open, then clamped shut. She groaned, rolling over and frowning as the sweat-soaked sheets clung to her frame. She threw them off with a quiet “Yuck” and shuffled drowsily to a cooler part of the large bed. Beside the bed, nestled in his favorite basket, Spike startled her with a rumbling snore. The Princess of Friendship relaxed as she recognized the source of the noise and nestled herself into the sheets with a long yawn. She frowned, fractured pieces of her dream floating through her mind, but shook her head and let the memories fade. She had already forgotten the details as it was, and cared little about what formless shapes and sounds she might recall.

“You! Are not! A QUEEN!”

Twilight sat up with a jolt, wide eyes locked on the door to her room. The echo reverberated through the hall for a moment before fading away, leaving the little lavender alicorn in dark silence and a cold sweat. She searched the dark around her door, afraid of what she might find, then carefully shifted to the edge of her bed opposite Spike to stand.

A hoof reached out from the shade and held her still.

“Please, Twilight,” Princess Luna whispered calmly, “remain in bed. It is late.”

Twilight fixed her with a hard stare, annoyed at being startled again. “What’s happening, Luna?”

“Our sister is—was, rather—interrogating the changeling. We are following her to her chambers now.”

For a moment, Twilight was confused. But, in a flash, the memories of the evening came flooding back to her, and her body began to tremble with sickening fear.

“Th-the assassins,” she muttered, rising again from her mattress, “the changeling, she—“

The hoof pressed again and lowered the young alicorn back into her bed.

“Do not linger on such thoughts,” the lunar princess urged quietly. “They will disturb your dreams even more.”

The purple princess blinked. “Even m. . . you’ve been. . .” The vague, blurry remnants of her dream returned to her mind, and she realized that the details had been intentionally obscured. “You’ve been censoring my dreams?”

“Shepherding,” Luna corrected with a slight frown. “You have relived the events nearly thirty times in your dreamscape, every repetition adding fictional details that make it increasingly gruesome. Would you prefer to keep these awful false memories?”

Twilight shuddered and let out a sigh. “I suppose not,” she admitted. “I would at least like the option of experiencing them though. I can’t come to terms with something I can’t remember.”

“I can remove the effect that obfuscates the memories of your dreams. Would you like me to?” Luna offered, her horn emitting a soft glow.

Twilight flinched, caught off guard by the question. She licked her lips, considering the offer, but eventually shook her head.

“Uh, on second thought, the true memory is probably gruesome enough,” she murmured. “I can reconcile with that.”

“As you wish,” Luna nodded, letting the spell fade from her horn.

A silence passed between them as Twilight collected her thoughts and Luna patiently awaited her return to slumber. Eventually the young princess settled back down into bed, but turned to question her elder further.

“What was that scream?” she asked nervously, noticing a sad change in Luna’s face.

“I fear my sister may begrudge me for telling you, but this is something you must be prepared to accept as a fellow ruler of Equestria. Celestia. . . has an angry streak,” Luna admitted cautiously. “It is very carefully concealed under ordinary circumstances, but something about this changeling has brought it out of her. We fear for her emotional wellbeing.”

Twilight stared in surprise at the elder alicorn as she processed her words. “Celestia has an anger problem?” Luna nodded somberly. “H-how can that be? She’s so sedate and patient and. . .”

“She hides it well,” Luna nodded again. “Thankfully she has not been pressed to use pure alicorn magic in a very long time. So she says, at any rate,” the princess muttered to herself.

She poised to say more, but paused and looked blindly past Twilight into the room. Twilight, recognizing this as a moment of mental communication between the two Lunas, waited quietly for her to return her focus to the room. After a few seconds of blank staring, the princess blinked and stood up.

“We are in conference with Celestia now. I must take over our work in the Nocte Curia,” she lingered at the window and glanced back at Twilight with concern in her eyes. “Will you be alright alone?”

A loud, rasping snore interrupted Twilight’s response and made her grin. “I’m not alone,” she reminded the other princess.

Luna returned the smile, dipping her head in farewell, then turned and disappeared into the moonlight, leaving Twilight with her thoughts and a young dragon’s monstrous snores for company.

Author's Note:

I guess this is a thing now. Whoops.

Comments

[CallofDutySoldier123]

Could you put a Flashlight romance in your story?

[Mare Macabre]

4603597
Is Flashlight a character or a genre?

[CallofDutySoldier123]

4604454 Flash Sentry x Twilight Sparkle

[Mare Macabre]

4604555
Ohh. I don't see a reason for it; Flash Sentry is stationed in the Crystal Empire and always will be so far as I'm concerned, so there isn't much opportunity for them to communicate. I see him more as an Easter egg pony like Derpy Hooves anyway, more included in the show as a nod to the Equestria Girls movies than as an actual character.

So no, no Flashlight. Maybe in its own piece but not this one.