> Chrystalised > by Grimm > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > You'll Catch More Flies with Honey > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Foolish. She’d been foolish. Chrysalis had been foolish a lot as of late, and it was starting to become a bad habit she’d need to get rid of before it was her last mistake. The chains running through the holes in her legs clinked, and she concluded it probably already was. The ignominy. The insult. First she’d lost the war on Canterlot because of that squirming insect Twilight Sparkle, and then her throne, after years of planning, because of a single jumped-up drone and the insect’s apprentice of all things. And a god of chaos and some other, unimportant unicorn, but who was counting? Chrysalis was, of course, it was a silly question. Every slight, every affront, every insult, relentlessly tallied in her mind and stored for later brooding. And if anyone in Equestria could brood, it was Queen Chrysalis. She was a goddess-damned artisan at it by this point. And she’d had so many things to brood on. So many dreams of revenge, so many plans, so many schemes. All fine-tuned to a razor’s edge, all perfect, all flawless. She’d just needed time and patience to bring them to fruition. Time. And patience. But she’d gotten so hungry. It was different for her, it always had been. The drones, they’d starved, but it was surface level compared to the overwhelming hunger that consumed Chrysalis’ thoughts. And the pure cheek of that upstart Starlight Glimmer to suggest that all she needed was to give her love away to sate herself. Ponies would never understand, could never understand. And that hunger had driven her to the edge. That hunger had made her do stupid, foolish things. Still, she hadn’t expected a contingent of Thorax’s soldiers to catch her before she’d even gotten to the Crystal Empire’s outskirts. It took a changeling to catch a changeling, she supposed, although calling these creatures changelings seemed too good for them now. Their new forms revolted her. Deeply. They unsettled her right to her very core, a true sense of wrongness whenever she looked at what had once been her beautiful drone army with their gorgeous, sleek black chitin, now replaced by a vibrant array of disgusting traitors in equally disgusting colours. They might as well have been ponies. Prey. That was how far they had lowered themselves, how grotesque their new forms appeared. And to be captured by those drones… This was a new low. Caught, frozen in a cocoon as she herself had done to her victims so many times, and then escorted to her old hive in a box. Chrysalis had thought she was already at rock bottom with her plan to skim love from the denizens of the Crystal Empire. This was even worse. To be captured by Celestia, or Twilight Sparkle, that would have been bad enough. But at least those ponies were powerful. At least her capture would have felt earned. But her own drones? Her own offspring, whom she’d nurtured, protected? Whom she would have done anything for? Who’d betrayed her for pastel colours and fucking antlers? Unbelievable. Unforgivable. Hoofsteps echoed through the cavernous dungeon in the depths of her hive. Chrysalis counted three sets. One larger gait flanked either side by a smaller one. Him. Standing up was too great a courtesy for that grub, and so as Thorax entered, two changeling guards beside him, Chrysalis remained sprawled on the floor, left her head lying in the dust as she lazily glared up at him from behind a wayward slick of her mane. It was a difficult combination of apathy and fury to pull off, but if anyone could manage it, Chrysalis could. Thorax seemed unperturbed, as usual. He was always too stupid to notice. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “The chains aren’t too tight, are they?” Chrysalis glanced at the bindings through each of her legs, and wiggled one to answer him with a sardonic little clink. “What do you care, worm?” Thorax didn’t seem to understand the question. “I just want to make sure they’re not hurting you. I can loosen them if you’d like?” “Why don’t you take the blocker off my horn, and I’ll show you just how tight these chains can get?” she snarled. The changeling king gave her a look that she despised, then. One of pity. “I guess they’re fine.” He stepped closer to the prostrate queen. “What about food? Are you hungry?” “Do you make a habit of asking stupid questions?” Chrysalis grumbled. “Of course I’m hungry. I’m always hungry.” Thorax nodded. “You don’t have to be.” “Don’t say it.” “All you have to do is share your love.” He definitely wasn’t expecting Chrysalis to move as fast as she did, lunging from the floor, teeth bared. Thorax’s eyes went wide as he tried to shuffle backwards, but it was too little too late, and Chrysalis flew straight at his throat and- CLANK. The chains snapped taut an inch from his face, and she tumbled uselessly to the ground in front of him, kicking up a cloud of dust of her own. “Ow,” she muttered. “That’s a no, then?” Chrysalis propped her head up on a hoof and batted her eyelids mockingly at him. “Since you’re such a proponent of sharing, you could always give me some of yours.” He bit his lip. “I would,” Thorax insisted. “I really would, but…” “But what?” “But afterwards you’ll just feel hungry again.” The chains rattled once more as Chrysalis pulled herself up to her full height. She still towered over the drone in front of her, even after his transformation. “Then when I get out of here,” she murmured, leaning in close and watching him gulp nervously, “I am going to tear so much love from you that there will be nothing left but a withered husk.” Thorax didn’t answer for a while. He was scared – Chrysalis could see it in every aspect of his features – but she didn’t think that was why he was hesitating. He seemed to simply be thinking of what to say next. “You’re very angry,” he said, eventually. “I can’t imagine why.” Thorax shook his head. “No, I mean…” He took one of his hooves and placed it on the front of his carapace. It made a soft clunk. “Deep down. Inside. You’re very angry. And I wonder why.” Chrysalis stared at him, dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious.” “Why not?” Dropping to her hindquarters with another rattle of chains, Chrysalis sat in stunned disbelief. “I have spent my entire life running, hiding, squirming in the dirt. I had to fight for every scrap of love I could. I built a hive, an army, from nothing. And I watched as the ponies rejected us, over and over and over.” “But the ponies are nice,” Thorax countered. “They helped us even after everything you did.” “Nice?” Chrysalis laughed, loaded with disdain. “Nice, now that you’re friendly colours. Nice, now that you’ve bowed down to them, now you’re not scaring them any more with talk of eating their love, as if they haven’t got enough, as if they need to hoard it.” Her eyes glowed. “Nice when it suits them.” “You tried to take over their kingdom by force. You tried to conquer them.” “They allowed no place for us. They drove us out of anywhere we settled. They’d left us nothing, and so taking everything from them in return only seemed fair. And I would do anything to protect my own, my hive.” Thorax looked over himself, and the colourful guards that had accompanied him into the cavern. “Except listen to us.” She laughed again. “Listen? To a drone?” “I’m the king, now,” he reminded her. “A self-appointed king,” Chrysalis spat. “A king in name only. But to me, you will always be exactly what you truly are.” Her eyes narrowed as she dragged herself to the chains’ full length once more. “A drone, and a traitorous one at that. I should have stomped you under my hoof the moment I laid your egg.” Thorax stared into her angry eyes, and this time he didn’t wince. She could see the pity in them again, see her own bedraggled reflection, see how sad he was for the creature in front of him. And so she spat in his face, and this time he did flinch. “Okay,” he said, wiping the spittle from his cheek. “I guess we’ll try again tomorrow.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes and sank down to the floor again, not watching but listening to the retreating hoofsteps. Three pairs; one larger, one on each side. *** Chrysalis had stopped moving three hours ago. Three hours, and her body had been still in the dust. Three hours, and the faint green glow from her carapace had gone dark. The chains lay, still looped through the holes in her legs, still tightly bound to anchor points on the wall of rock behind her, but now they were as motionless and silent as the body of the changeling queen herself. And then soft paw pads began to creep out of the darkness, across the dirt-covered cavern floor. They scampered around the periphery of darkness, circling Chrysalis’ immobile form until the largest and bravest skittered closer. A fat, bloated rat. It approached slowly, carefully, sniffing the air, nose twitching, ears flicking back and forth, waiting for the slightest inclination to scuttle back into the dark. But it found none. It reached one of Chrysalis’ outstretched and awkwardly splayed legs first, sniffed some more, examining, before giving her chitin an experimental nibble. Its teeth scraped against her hard exoskeleton but couldn’t punch through, and either it tasted awful or the rat simply wanted to find an easier start point, because it crawled its way over towards her head, sniffing at her scraggly mane. And that’s when Chrysalis pounced. The rest of the rats scrambled back into the darkness, squeaking as they went as Chrysalis struck with lightning speed, her hoof snatching the rat up in a vice-like grasp despite its loud, desperate protests. Chrysalis regarded the squirming ball of fur in her hooves as a spider might a fly, her tongue flicking against the sharp points of her teeth as she watched it struggle and squeal. “They took away my magic,” she explained to it, almost apologetically, “so I’m going to have to take your love the old-fashioned way.” Chrysalis shrugged. “This might sting a bit,” she told it, and then opened her maw wide. The rat struggled harder as she pulled it closer and- “You don’t have to do this.” Her jaws snapped shut right beside the rat, and it whimpered in fear. She lowered it, slowly, but her grip on it never weakened. “Come to gloat further?” she asked, witheringly. “I was never here to gloat,” Thorax replied. “And where are your lapdogs?” Chrysalis asked, warily eyeing the dark shadows in the corners of the room. “My who?” “Goddess, you’re stupid. The guards, where are your guards?” “Oh, them. They’re not my la-” He stopped, and sighed, realising it would do no good to argue. “I asked them to wait outside,” he said. “I thought you might prefer it that way.” “I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to talk at all.” Thorax smiled sadly. “Well, we do.” He gestured at the rat in her grip. “Are you going to let that go?” She hugged it petulantly to her chest, and it squeaked again in protest. “No.” “Okay then.” Thorax sat himself down on the floor across from her, well out of range of her chains. “I don’t think there’s much love in a rat.” “I’ve eaten worse,” Chrysalis replied. “And if my captors insist on starving me…” “We’re not starving you,” said Thorax. “You’re starving yourself.” “That’s very convenient, isn’t it?” “It’s the truth. All you have to do is share your love and you can-” “I can be just like you.” “Yes.” Chrysalis looked him up and down, and snorted derisively. “I’d rather not.” “Why are you so against the idea? Is it just pride?” She shrugged. “Why are you so desperate for me to go along with it?” Some strange expression flickered over Thorax’s face, and realisation dawned. Wonderful, terrible realisation, and Chrysalis threw back her head and cackled so loudly that it echoed through the entire chamber. “Oh. Oh, this is rich,” she said between laughter. “You really are a king in name only, aren’t you?” Thorax said nothing. Chrysalis only laughed harder. “And have the ponies realised you can’t breed yet?” Thorax said nothing. “It will scare them when they find out,” Chrysalis said, her smile wide and shark-like. “An entire species, doomed and with nothing to lose. Not a comforting thought to a pony, especially when they work out what the solution is.” Her smile widened. “Or whom.” “I don’t want it to come to that,” said Thorax. “And so instead you’ve chained down the one hope for your salvation,” Chrysalis replied. She was enjoying herself, now. Now she could see the way he squirmed at each and every one of her words, the way he averted his eyes whenever she dragged out and detailed exactly the extent he had doomed his species by betraying her. “Here’s a secret: keeping me prisoner isn’t doing much to encourage me to help.” “The changelings will die,” he said, and she could hear the pleading undertones in his voice. “All of us. There won’t be any left. The whole species, dead.” “You already are,” Chrysalis hissed. “My changelings died the moment they sided with ponies, the moment they cast aside who they were for antlers and pretty colours.” Thorax ran a hoof gently along the protrusions from his head. “They’re not antlers,” he corrected, “they’re m-” “You think I care?” Chrysalis ground her hoof against the cold stone beneath her, finding any outlet for her fury that didn’t involve stomping the rat in her other hoof into oblivion. She still needed that. “You betray your queen, you betray your hive, and you bring your entire species to the brink of extinction, and then you have the gall to ask me for help? How did you think this was going to go?” Thorax sighed. “This is pretty close,” he admitted. “But I had to try. I thought even you wouldn’t want your changelings to die out.” Chrysalis grinned mirthlessly. “That’s right,” she said. “My changelings. And I would rather watch them all turn to dust than submit to a drone who calls himself king.” Thorax bit his lip. “You may have to,” he said. Instead of answering, Chrysalis opened her mouth wide again and sunk her fangs deep into the rat in her hoof. The sharp taste of blood mixed with the dregs of love she was able to draw out of it, the rat giving one final, pained squeak before going limp in her maw. When she released it and it dropped to the floor, it was a withered and dried husk, all skin and bone. Thorax was right, there was very little love there, but even just those small flecks were enough to sharpen her senses, to send a rush of adrenaline and power surging through her. It was invigorating. Her barbaric display over, she wiped the smears of blood from the corners of her mouth and kicked the dried-out remains over towards Thorax, laughing at his clear disgust. “What’s the matter, drone?” she asked, unable to keep the glee from her voice even if she’d wanted to. “I thought you wanted me to share.” “Is that your answer, then?” he asked, and his voice was filled with a terrible resignation. Chrysalis couldn’t have been happier. She lowered her voice to a hiss, her anger slicing through her otherwise dramatically improved mood. “I owe you nothing,” she murmured. “No,” Thorax agreed, “you don’t. But I’d hoped saving your brood would be enough.” “You can’t have it both ways,” Chrysalis spat. “You can’t turn your backs on me and then say I betrayed the changelings, that they died by my hoof. This all falls on you.” “But you were leading us down a path of destruction long before-” “I’d won,” and now Chrysalis was shouting, and her words resounded through the caverns, echoing loudly as she stared down the drone before her, her restraint fully eroded. “We had won. The ponies were imprisoned, the changelings were so perfectly placed to absorb the love of all of Equestria. You threw that away, not me. You doomed us.” “I did what I had to, to save my friends.” “Friends?” Chrysalis asked, and the word tasted foul in her mouth. “What about your queen? What about your family? Selective loyalty doesn’t excuse you from what you’ve done.” “At least I’m loyal to something other than myself.” The chains bit hard against Chrysalis’ legs as she strained against them, desperate to throw herself at Thorax. He still sat there, still calm, still so unbearably naive. How dare he? How dare he sit there and call her selfish? How dare he of all changelings proselytise to her about loyalty, about friendship? “Everything I have ever done,” she said, glaring at the demure drone before her, “has been to make us better. To make us stronger.” “To make you stronger,” he countered. “One and the same,” she snarled. Thorax pulled himself to his hooves and dusted himself off. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said. “Don’t bother.” “No, I have to,” he replied. “As our king, I have to try and save us. I have to convince you, somehow.” Chrysalis snorted with bitter laughter. “It hurts you, doesn’t it? To still need me, as you do. You’d rather kill me and be done with it.” Thorax shook his head. “I don’t want to kill anyone.” “Then you’re a coward,” Chrysalis shouted after him, as he made his way from the chamber. “And cowards never rule for long.” And then she was alone in the dark, nothing but a desiccated rat’s corpse for company. *** And so it went. The days scrolled past, bleeding into one another. Not that there was any real way to tell the days apart, down in the depths of her old hive. Time was all the same. Inky blackness. Hunger. Anger. Sometimes Chrysalis pulled at the chains. They never budged. The only thing that broke the monotony, that delineated the darkness, was Thorax and his visits. He was true to his word. Every day he would descend into the dark, and every day he would talk with her. Most days she refused to humour him. She would lie still, she would ignore his every word. He’d still try, of course, with a sickeningly obtuse resoluteness. Other days, if she was feeling particularly bored of the darkness, she’d talk, too. Never about what he wanted, of course. That would have been too easy. Thorax didn’t deserve that, it was too good for him. No, Chrysalis would talk about all the things she planned to do to him when she broke free. She would talk about vengeance, of betrayal. And she would talk about monarchy, and what it took to rule – lessons that Thorax seemed to either ignore or find abhorrent depending on their content. Chrysalis couldn’t help but wonder how he’d lasted this long without being usurped, without an army of rebels breaking into her prison and freeing her. Naturally, she was rather upset it hadn’t happened yet, although she would never admit it to Thorax. And so one day, she asked him. Asked in that way of hers that wasn’t really a question, in the way that meant there was usually more to be gleaned from what Thorax didn’t say than what he did. “You must have had dissenters,” she murmured in the dark, the shadows masking all but her green, glowing eyes. “I know my changelings, there’s no way they all rolled over just because you started to call yourself king.” Thorax hesitated. “It hasn’t been easy,” he admitted. “Being king is… complicated.” Chrysalis smiled toothily. “That’s why you need an iron hoof,” she purred. “That’s why you have to punish those who step out of line.” “I’m not going to do that,” Thorax insisted. “I think there’s a better way. And we’ve seen what happens to cruel rulers.” Chrysalis’ smile faltered. “I wasn’t cruel.” “Do you really believe that?” A deep frown furrowed her features. “I was strong. Hard, perhaps, but fair. And only because I had to be. You’re my children, I would never be cruel to you.” “You told me you’d rip all the love out of me until I was a husk.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Traitors are different. They don’t deserve compassion.” “I think they do,” said Thorax. “And despite my advisors telling me otherwise, I think you do, too.” Oh. This was new. This was interesting. “You think this is compassion?” she sneered, and the look on his face was all she needed to see. “It’s better than the alternative,” he said. “So it was compassion that had you chain me down here in the dark?” she asked. Thorax didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. She could see the troubled expression he wore, plain as day even in the shadows. She could see his weakness. “Is it compassion that has you starve me?” Thorax spoke slowly, deliberately, picking each and every word so carefully. “I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to save you.” “You’re trying to save yourself,” she said, bitterly. “I’m just a means to an end, even with all your sanctimonious preaching. And you’re worse than I ever was, because at least I own who I am. You, on the other hoof, are a hypocrite.” “No, you’re wrong,” he insisted, but she could hear him faltering. Chrysalis pushed further, her smile returned, stepping out of the shadows so he had to look at her, at what he’d done to her, her chains clinking with every hoofstep. “You would keep me chained down here forever, if that’s what it took.” “I wouldn’t,” he said, but his voice was wavering, and he couldn’t even look her in the eye now. “You don’t know what to do, do you? You don’t know how to save the changelings, and so you keep me sealed away down here in the vain hope that I’ll give you the answer on a silver platter. You don’t care about me, you don’t care that I’m starving, you don’t care that I’m your prisoner. You only care about what I’m worth to you.” “That’s not true.” Chrysalis chuckled, more of a growl than a laugh. “Maybe I was wrong, before. Perhaps you’ll make a good king after all.” “I’m nothing like you,” Thorax snarled, and it was the first time he had ever raised his voice with her, and his words rattled emptily in the darkness. Now it was her turn to ask the question, and she did so with relish. “Do you truly believe that, little drone?” She leaned in close, his eyes wide and scared. “Do you truly think we’re so dissimilar? That my own brood is so different?” Thorax didn’t answer. Instead he left her there again, alone, stumbling from the chamber as her echoing laughter followed him out. *** Thorax didn’t return the next day, or the one after that. For the first time, Chrysalis wondered if she’d actually broken him, if her reflection was too much for him to look at. It surprised Chrysalis as much as anyone to find that she would miss him, if it were true. Toying with him had become the only interesting thing she had left. And so it was with a strange flutter of relief on the day that Thorax descended into her dungeon again, relief that she would never admit to anyone. The loneliness and isolation must have been getting to her, she concluded, as his lone hoofsteps echoed throughout the chamber. He stopped in front of her, and she glared sullenly back at him under her wisps of mane. The weeks had not been kind to her, and that gnawing hunger scrabbled at the edges of her mind, ever present, all-consuming. Soon it would be almost impossible to think about anything else. “Okay,” said Thorax, and while his tone had recovered from the panic at the end of their last meeting, it was still much shakier, more uncertain than it had been in their earlier discourse. “What do you want?” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. This was not what she’d been expecting. “Want?” she asked, her voice hoarse from disuse. “I tried persuasion, I tried to reason with you, and it didn’t work. So let’s try something else. A trade. You save the changelings, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He paused. “Within reason.” Chrysalis pulled herself up onto unsteady legs. She stumbled towards him, her chains dragging behind her until they grew taut. “Freedom?” she whispered. “Of course,” he replied. “Food?” “Done.” Her smile grew icy cold. “You,” she said. Thorax blinked. “What?” “You heard me, those are my demands. Freedom, food, and you.” “I don’t-” “You remember my promise? The things I said I would do to you when I escaped?” Her expression hardened. “I intend to keep that promise. The start of my revenge.” “You want to kill me,” Thorax said. It wasn’t a question. Chrysalis shrugged. “Well, if you want to be melodramatic about it.” The changeling king was quiet for a long time. “And in return?” he asked, eventually. Chrysalis hadn’t really expected him to even consider it, and surprise flashed across her features before fading back into that shark smile. “In return, I’ll give the hive a new queen.” Thorax’s eyes widened. “You can do that?” “Of course,” she said. “How did you think we begin new hives? Replace old queens?” “I…” “It’s the same as any other egg, I just need to choose to lay it. I’ve never done it before, myself. I didn’t want any… competition.” She leaned in to murmur conspiratorially in Thorax’s ear. “New queens can be a bit feisty.” Thorax smiled humourlessly. “Old ones, too.” Chrysalis grinned. “Well,” she said, “those are my terms.” “And now we negotiate.” She shook her head. “No. Anything less wouldn’t be worth it. This is your silver platter, the one you dreamed about. You can take it or leave it.” “You’re asking me to leave the changelings leaderless, I can’t do that.” “And if you don’t, they’ll all die out anyway, and all of this will be for nothing. Monarchs have to make sacrifices for the good of their subjects, that’s just the way it is.” “But this…” “Is your only chance,” she finished. Thorax chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought. “And how can I trust you?” Chrysalis lifted a chained hoof, letting the heavy metal glint in what little light reached down this far. “It’s not as though I could betray you.” “We could, though,” said Thorax. “Take the queen, leave you here. The thought must have crossed your mind.” “I don’t have much to lose,” Chrysalis replied nonchalantly. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to have me and a new queen in the same hive. That could get messy, especially since you’re trying to indoctrinate her.” “Educate.” “Whatever you want to call it. Having two queens together is a bad idea either way, let’s leave it at that.” Thorax nodded. “I’ll need some time.” “For what?” Chrysalis’ scowl deepened. “To talk with your advisors? Typical. Even as a king, a drone can’t make their own decisions.” “That’s not- I’ll need to make sure my successor-” “Is ready? Please. If you tell the hive what you’re planning, you’ll lose all your power before our deal is made.” “So what would you have me do?” “Keep it secret. Release me once you have your new queen, and then everyone will simply assume I took you captive as I escaped. Your legacy will live on, you’ll have your salvation, and I’ll have my prize.” “They won’t understand.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “You think they won’t grasp the importance of a new queen? One they can shape, mould as they want? A queen who will do exactly as she’s told?” Thorax was silent for a while. “Two conditions,” he said, eventually. “I hate conditions.” “First, you never touch any changeling in this hive again. You never come back. You can have me, but the other changelings are safe. The hive is safe.” Chrysalis mulled this over for a moment, although it was mostly for show. Let him sweat, let him think he’d gotten one over on her. With a new queen, it wasn’t as though she would ever want to come back here anyway. “Fine,” she said. “And the second?” “You only get me,” he said. “Isn’t that the same thing?” “You’re not listening. You only get me. No Starlight Glimmer. No Trixie. Not now, not ever. You take your banishment and you go into hiding and you give up on your revenge.” Chrysalis’ smile morphed into a snarl of anger. “That’s not the deal.” “It is now.” “No,” she spat. “You’re asking for too much.” “Then I guess this was all for nothing,” he said, with a sigh. “I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an agreement.” And without another word, Thorax turned and started for the exit, Chrysalis’ freedom dwindling into the darkness with him. “Stop.” Chrysalis hated it, hated saying it, hated how weak she sounded. But he did stop, returning to her side with a faux-quizzical expression that she hated just as much as admitting defeat. “You win,” she muttered. “I didn’t think this was a game,” he said. “It’s always a game,” she replied, holding out her hoof with a jangle of chains. “And you win. Just you. The others will be left alone. You have my word.” “I don’t know if that means much.” “It’s all I have to give.” Thorax considered this for a moment, and Chrysalis took the time to enjoy every doubt and hesitation on his face, although even after everything it was still a surprise when he reached out and pressed his own hoof to hers. The last thing she’d expected was for him to agree to his own self-sacrifice. “Okay,” he said, quietly. “Excellent,” Chrysalis whispered, her tongue flitting between her teeth. “Let’s get started then.” She spun in place, leaning down to present herself as she flicked her tail out of the way, catching the end of his muzzle as she did so, and then waited for him to mount her. And waited. And waited. “What’s the matter?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to find he hadn’t even moved, staring at her, eyes wide, mouth open. “What in Tartarus are you doing?” he spluttered. “I should think it was obvious,” she replied, unable to keep the exasperation from her voice. Not now she was this close, close enough she could almost taste his love already. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold hooves about the whole thing?” “I- What is this?” Oh. Chrysalis stood again, turning to face him properly. “You weren’t a breeding drone, then?” Thorax shook his head dumbly. “More’s the pity,” she muttered. “Do you think I can just pop out a new queen like nothing?” “I… I hadn’t thought about it.” “Clearly not. The eggs have to be fertilised,” she said, pointedly. Thorax continued to sit in confused silence. “You need to breed me,” she repeated, and finally it seemed to get through to him. He blinked. “Here? Now?” “Where else would we?” Thorax scratched the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, it’s just… It’s not very romantic.” Chrysalis had to bite back the string of obscenities that threatened to burst out of her. “You’re a drone,” she said, slowly, trying to keep her temper in check. “I’m a queen. That’s just how it works. Since when has romance ever factored into it?” Thorax seemed entirely unconvinced. She stepped forward and reached out to him, brushing her hoof along his cheek with a tenderness Chrysalis hadn’t shown anyone for longer than she could remember. But if that’s what it took, she could coax him into it. “It’s okay to be nervous,” she murmured. “New drones always are.” That wasn’t strictly true. Sometimes, of course, but other times her drones had seized the opportunity with instinctive desire and lust. Most times, come to think of it. It was no wonder this one had deviated so far from the path; it was hard to believe he was a changeling at all. But there was still some instinct there, some deep calling that his body couldn’t help but answer, his queen’s sultry presence enough to begin to coax his length from his sheath already, and she looked down at him with a triumphant smile. “There we go,” she said. “Good boy.” Thorax still couldn’t seem to comprehend this new turn of events, even if his body was already starting to react to her attentions. And so when Chrysalis reached one of her chained hooves down to press lightly against his hardening cock, he shuddered and let out a muted gasp. And when she pulled him into a kiss, pressing herself against him, his entire body went stiff in her embrace. And as she began to funnel all that wonderful love from him, drawing it out, wresting it free, Thorax finally began to relax. He was delicious. His love poured forth as she deepened the kiss, and Chrysalis ate it all, devoured it all, pulling him closer, hugging him tighter. Her cheeks warmed as she drank, as she satisfied herself, as her hunger went satiated for the first time since she’d fled her hive. She broke the kiss at last, and he sank back, panting heavily, as she wiped her lips and let that old, familiar strength roll through her. It was only now that Chrysalis was truly able to understand how weak she’d gotten, how much she'd been missing. She was herself again, whole again, and she could feel that strength welling up through every facet of her body. And they were only just getting started. Her hoof found his length again, and now he was stiff and straining for her, Chrysalis’ passionate kiss casting aside any of his lingering reluctance and hesitance. He was starting to accept his position again, accept his place, to remember what it was like to be a drone and obey his queen. Because this was every drone’s dream, deep down. Even transformed, even calling himself King, this was what he and every other drone wanted. To give himself to his queen, to surrender to her every whim and will, to allow her to take whatever she wanted from him. And, even chained as she was, she was in control here. She was in charge. Her hoof traced up the soft skin of his shaft, that strange contrast between smooth skin and iron hardness, and his hips bucked and he moaned softly and she couldn’t help but grin. Chrysalis tutted in faux-disapproval. “So impatient,” she purred, and Thorax gave another little jerk at her words. “And to think, only a moment ago you were the one hesitating.” As her hoof played against his cock, the gentle jingle of chains matching her rhythm, Thorax closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure. His love was pouring out of him now, already, and they hadn’t even started yet. He’d had this much to give her the whole time, and yet he’d clung to it so selfishly. But it was okay, it was all worth it, all forgiven, now that she could feast on it like this, now she could almost drown in the heady lust that filled the air around them. She continued her ministrations, smiling at every buck of his hips, at every unrestrained sound that escaped from Thorax as he surrendered to her. “Such a good drone,” she murmured, and it only drove Thorax deeper in his submission to her. “Have you thought about this before?” she asked. Chrysalis wasn’t really expecting an answer. She didn’t need it. It was all part of the fantasy, all part of exciting him, of preparing him. Of feeding on him. “Have you imagined your queen beneath you? Pleasing you? Begging for you?” Her hoof paused for a moment, and Thorax opened his eyes again, staring at her with a mix of lust and confusion as to why she had stopped. But now she did want an answer, an answer she already knew but needed to hear him confess. “Tell me,” she commanded, her smile wide and full of fangs. “A long time ago,” he admitted, but it was all she needed to hear. Because despite his insistence that it was all in the past, she could see the truth in his eyes. Feel it twitch in her hooves. Taste it in the love that permeated every inch of her. And so it should be. A drone should always want his queen, should always be ready to serve her. A sudden pang of loss tore through her chest, then. She’d missed her throne, of course. Missed her power and rulership, but even chained in the darkness her newfound solitariness hadn’t really sunk in. All those nights alone, in hiding, and she’d been so busy plotting her revenge that the sheer loneliness hadn’t truly reached her. And now, with Thorax before her, grunting as her hooves worked their way up and down his shaft, she remembered the simple pleasures of her changelings that she’d forgotten. She remembered how it felt to be part of a hive, how it felt to have subjects who would not only serve her as she wished but would do so gladly. She’d forgotten how the mere companionship of a drone in the evening was so pleasant, so necessary. A changeling queen without a hive was no queen at all. No changeling at all. And now that she saw it all with such clarity it was a though a large part of her had been ripped right out, like she was no longer whole. You brought this on yourself. You ran. Yes, she had. She’d run and she’d left her hive and for the first time in her long, self-inflicted exile, Chrysalis was beginning to regret her choice. But it was too late. Her path was set. Her hive was lost, transformed. Gone. There was nothing left for her here. And so she shook the useless thoughts from her head, snapping back to the present to find Thorax staring curiously at her. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Of course I am,” she snapped. Too quickly, and he caught her frustration. “Is it something I did?” Yes. You took my hive from me. You ruined everything. “No,” she said, trying not to let her anger show. To keep it from taking her over and ruining the moment. Not when she was so close to what she needed. Not when his love was pouring forth and she had so much to feast upon. She released his still-twitching cock and stepped back, laughing deep in her throat at his clear disappointment. But still he sat there, watching, waiting. A submissive little drone to the end. No matter how different he seemed, no matter that he was transformed, he was still so obedient. Still hers. And she might as well put him to use since he was here. Since it had been so long. Chrysalis turned again, presenting herself once more, tail swishing out of the way and this time she knew it would be sending a wave of her pheromones with it, her own excitement beginning to build now. She stayed tall this time, though, too tall for him to easily mount. That wasn’t what she wanted yet. Chrysalis glanced over her shoulder to see Thorax still staring, still hesitant even though she could see how hard he was trying to keep himself restrained, how desperate he was to bury his aching shaft into her. How desperate he was to fulfil his life’s role as a drone and breed his queen. But not yet. “Lick, she commanded. And he obeyed. His tongue was eager, if inexperienced, and Chrysalis’ back arched at the sensation anyway, his clumsy attentions still enough to send little shivers rolling down her spine. It had been so long, and she’d been so deprived, and it didn’t even matter that Thorax didn’t really know what he was doing, and had probably never done anything like this before. He was eager to serve his queen, eager to taste her, to please her, to submit to her, and that was satisfaction enough. Thorax grew more bold, his long, forked tongue unfurling and delving so deeply into her, so nimble, so needy. He took of her almost as much as she did of him as his love continued to flow, continued to feed her as he excitedly licked and lapped at her marehood. It had been so easy to draw him in, so easy to have him submit to her. Her children had always been easy to entice, after all, their attraction to her a fundamental aspect of their role in the hive, and Thorax’s lack of experience perhaps only made him even more susceptible to his queen’s allure. If she’d known it would be this easy, though, she would have done this days ago. Suggested the deal herself. She’d assumed with his rebellion, with his newfound leadership and transformation that he would have been reluctant to mate with his queen, that his resistance would have outweighed his instincts. It was clear now that his transformation had done nothing to suppress them. He was still a changeling, he was still a drone, and that meant he was still hers, at least as long as she enticed him with the promise of breeding. As long as his cock stood so proudly, so ready, twitching in anticipation. As long as his tongue was buried inside her, seeking and searching for all the places that would make her moan and shiver and make her legs go weak. Would make the chains rattle as she shuddered, and she could feel his muzzle twist up in a smile against her whenever she did so. And finally her lust was too much and she sank down, his tongue drawing so delectably out of her, and she turned her head back, eyes half-lidded, and she could see his lust was as bad as hers, maybe even worse. It didn’t matter that he didn’t look like the drones she remembered, the drones she’d fucked and who had bred her countless times before. Nothing mattered any more save for her mounting need. “Fuck me,” she commanded. And he obeyed. He stepped over Chrysalis, awkwardly positioning himself above her, resting his chest against her back. He was still smaller than she was, and it made aligning himself even more difficult than her drones had found it in the past. Slightly too tall to comfortably rut her as she lay down, not tall enough to properly mount her while standing. She felt his stallionhood prodding at her entrance as he tried to sink into her, as he shuffled and shifted to find the right angle. And then, at last, he found it, and he thrust forward, sinking deeply into Chrysalis almost to the hilt, and his next moan was shaky and uneven as the new sensations wrapped around him, drawing him in as she tightened around his length. “Good boy,” she breathed, so full. So complete. Because as much as the drones needed their queen, a queen needed her drones. As much as Thorax’s nature demanded he submit to her, Chrysalis’ nature demanded she give herself to him, let him thrust so deep into her, let him take her and breed her and fulfil her. This was her purpose, her calling, and it had been so long since she’d been able to indulge it. Thorax was hesitating, paused, breathing heavily as he tried to adjust to the new sensations surrounding him, pressing so tightly against him. Chrysalis didn’t acquiesce, though, continuing to tighten around his hard length, to beckon him in, and when she turned her head to speak to him again her voice was layered with something deep and primal. “Rut me,” she said, and she saw the slightest tinge of green begin to surface in his eyes. And Thorax did, drawing his hips back before plunging into her again and drawing a loud, satisfied moan from her that echoed all throughout the chamber. The hard smack of his hips against her rump joined it, along with Thorax’s own grunts of pleasure. She’d thought his love couldn’t flow any faster, but she’d been wrong, and as he began to fuck his queen in earnest his love filled her even more. She was lost in it, lost in him, each and every thrust sending jolts and shivers through her, every time he buried himself inside her dragging a lustful moan from her lips, every panting breath she took filled with his love and adoration. She’d thought it was a feast before, but this…? This was a banquet. Far more than she could ever have eaten. Was this what sharing love had done to him? What it could do for her, too? No. The terrible, traitorous thoughts were pushed from her mind with another wave of pleasure as Thorax’s rutting grew harder, more confident. Forget about that now. Just enjoy yourself. “You feel so good,” Thorax breathed, and Chrysalis’ smile couldn’t have been wider. And, more importantly, as he bred his queen and gave all his love for her, Thorax left himself so vulnerable. He’d opened a door, a pathway right to his heart to let his love out, and he hadn’t considered what could force its way back in. Chrysalis’ horn may have been useless, her magic as restrained as she was, but this was deeper than that. The connection between drone and queen didn’t need that kind of magic. This was older, stronger. And so as Thorax gave himself to her, as he submitted to her entirely, it only pushed him deeper into her thrall. His eyes began to glaze a darker green as his mind became hers, as he gave her everything and she took it all. There was still enough of him left to resist for now, though, even if he wasn’t truly aware of her influence. But with each of his thrusts, his grunts, each twitch of his stallionhood inside her, he sank a little deeper under her spell. And with every time he buried himself inside her, Chrysalis grew closer to her own peak. She was almost impressed – not many drones managed to make her climax with so little instruction, especially ones that had never been granted this indulgence before. She knew it was probably her long dry spell that had made her so sensitive, so ready, but there was more to it than that. Some kind of earnestness in his lovemaking that had been absent from all the times she’d mated before. It was less mechanical than her drones had been, more real. Perhaps that was a side effect of his transformation as well, or perhaps he really was just different. An anomaly. A mistake. Whatever the case, she couldn’t deny the effect his efforts were having on her, her moans growing ever louder and more wanton, more needy. Chrysalis could hear the echo of her cries and she sounded like a bitch in heat and it only made her more excited, wordlessly urging Thorax to fuck her harder, faster. And he obeyed. “You should feel honoured, my little changeling,” she gasped between her exultations. “To mate your queen is a gift only the best drones ever receive.” She looked back over her shoulder, and his eyes were tightly shut now as he focused on the pleasured, rutting her so roughly. “Do you feel it? That honour?” He twitched inside her again at her words. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes what?” she demanded, her voice cracking through the air like a whip. “Yes, my queen.” And even more of him was lost to her. “That’s better, drone,” she murmured. Another twitch, another errant thrust. “You’re close, aren’t you?” “Yes, my queen,” he gasped. She grinned. “But you’re not allowed to cum yet,” she told him, and he whimpered at her order. “Not until I’m satisfied.” “Y-yes, my queen.” This time there was far less surety in his response, but to his credit Thorax’s thrusts slowed as he tried to control his rising climax. And even just that little bit of control sent a wave of Chrysalis’ own pleasure cresting over her. He was a slave to her desire, now, totally drowned in her, his eyes bright green when he opened them again to worship her body, drinking in her form and every single one of her movements in a way that sent ecstatic little sparks through her. His love still poured forth, and she could see how much he longed for her, needed her, needed this. How much of it was her enthrallment she couldn’t say, but given how easily he’d slipped under her spell Chrysalis knew at least some of it was real. Yes, Thorax wanted her, wanted this, and now that he had it he would do anything she asked, just to keep her. And so when she told him not to cum, he held back. When she told him her satisfaction came first, he redoubled his efforts to bring her to the edge, each of his thrusts searching for those places that made her nicker and shudder and tighten around him. The places that made her moans all the more desperate. And when she felt that first spike of pleasure that signalled her climax, he knew. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, but his grip on her waist tightened, growling deep in his throat, the most masculine sound she’d heard from him, the kind that so many drones had made before. The kind that signified raw, unrestrained lust. And when she came, and her mind went blank, and there was only the pleasure as her hooves tried to grip the cold stone beneath her, and her back arched as she cried out her climax to the hive, Thorax just kept rutting her, kept fucking her so hard and strong and only drove her deeper into her orgasm. Impossible, blinding, wonderful pleasure that soaked into every inch of her, that doused her in warmth and delight and satisfaction. That submerged her in it and kept her there, shaking, moaning, shuddering. And when the last shivers of satiated lust rippled over her like water, Thorax was still rutting her, and still holding back no matter how difficult it was for him. She could see how tense he was, how his muzzle was screwed up in concentration, how shaky his movements had become as he tried so desperately not to finish, tried so hard to satisfy her without satisfying herself. But she hadn’t climaxed that hard for so long, maybe ever. He deserved his reward. “Good boy,” she whispered between heavy breaths, her satisfaction dripping from each and every one of her words. “Cum for me,” she ordered. “Give me all of it. Give me everything.” And he obeyed. With one last grunt, Thorax held her tightly, buried himself inside her to the hilt, and let go. She felt his hips buck, felt him shudder, and then felt the jets of heat that filled her as he came. She felt him pant, and shiver, and give everything he had as he bred her, as his purpose as a drone was fulfilled. And then it was over, and Thorax collapsed on top of her, and for a time they simply lay there, no energy or motivation to do anything more. When finally he disentangled himself and stood back, pulling himself out slowly, Chrysalis let out one last contented sigh, feeling that familiar warmth begin to spread through her abdomen as his seed reached her eggs. She stood, shakily, and the drone king’s green eyes betrayed her hold over him. “The chains,” she commanded, and without the slightest hesitation Thorax’s horn was alight and the chains fell away and she was free. Chrysalis reached up and tore the magic blocker from her horn, casting it away into the darkness, and then took a deep breath. The stale air of the caverns tasted so much sweeter now. She turned her attention back to her thrall, gently brushing his cheek with a hoof. “I’m sorry for my little misdirection,” Chrysalis crooned, sarcasm drenching every syllable, “but we both know you were going to back out of our deal the moment you had what you wanted.” Thorax shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, in a dull, emotionless voice. “I wasn’t.” Chrysalis frowned. She knew he wasn’t lying to her – was incapable of it, in his current state – but his reply made no sense. “You would have sacrificed yourself?” “If that’s what it took,” he affirmed. “Then you’re even more stupid than I thought,” she said with a scowl. “Yes, my queen.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes, and refocused. Her escape. There was a plan to follow, an order to this. Sadly it would mean her revenge on this drone would have to wait, but she needed to buy herself time far more than she needed vengeance right now. There would be time enough for that later, after all, and killing him now would be foolish. Chrysalis was done being foolish. She leant down and whispered in Thorax’s ear, and if he was surprised by her order his face gave no sign of it. He simply nodded, and green light began to crackle over his carapace, replacing his pale green exoskeleton with dark ebony as she stepped back to admire him. Before her stood Queen Chrysalis. His impression wasn’t half bad, and she was certainly the harshest of critics. A little smaller than she was, but he couldn’t really help that. It would do. She swapped places with him, and with a burst of her own magic (and oh how good it felt after so long locked away) locked the chains tightly through his legs. Another green glow rippled over her chitin, and now she was Thorax, and as she examined herself in her doppelganger’s eyes she couldn’t help but smile. Stupid to the end, he’d been. Painfully naive. It was almost too easy. “As fun as this has been,” she said in Thorax’s voice, “I think it’s time I took my leave. I wish I could say something nice about your hospitality, but, well…” She gave the chains around her clone’s legs a pointed look. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less if you rot down here.” “Yes, my queen,” said the not-Chrysalis. The real Chrysalis sighed, turned, and made her way from the dungeon, her footsteps dwindling into the darkness as not-Chrysalis dropped to his haunches and waited. Alone. In the dark. *** She’d thought tricking Thorax was easy – the rest of the hive was even more so. Not a single one of the drones she passed showed even the slightest suspicion, although why would they? Her disguise was immaculate, and she’d spent enough time with Thorax in the dungeon that he was easy to imitate. It was nice, Chrysalis found, to be treated with the respect and adoration she deserved again. Not one drone failed to greet her, to nod demurely as she passed. And she could taste their love as well, love for their king. Down in the cavern she hadn’t understood his rule, how he hadn’t been overthrown, but now it began to make sense. His subjects truly adored him. Perhaps not all, and some more than others, but largely the drones she passed exuded far more love than Chrysalis would ever have expected. It didn’t sit well with her, and she tried not to think about it. The hive’s passageways twisted and turned, but she knew these corridors. She’d built them, carved them. This was her home. And so it wasn’t long before she’d found her way to the entrance, and that first waft of cool evening air was the most wonderful thing she’d felt in weeks. And yet, as she stood on the threshold, Chrysalis hesitated. Don’t. Just go. She should. She absolutely should. It was stupid to do what she was thinking about. Worse, it was foolish. Just leave. You owe them nothing. They all despise you. They all betrayed you. Yes, that was all true. And yet… Chrysalis sighed. She really was going to do this, wasn’t she? And so she left the entrance behind and slipped back inside the hive, searching for the quiet spot she needed away from prying eyes. *** Thorax grimaced as another twinge of pain lanced through his head. Chrysalis’ enthrallment was like a drug, and now that it had worn off he was in full withdrawal. Or hung-over, he wasn’t sure which. Perhaps both. “We’ll send out the search parties as soon as dawn hits,” Pharynx barked, smacking the table with a hoof to make his point clearer. Or, at the very least, louder. “Set up a perimeter, search grid by grid, and then we’ll-” “It’s too late,” said Thorax quietly. “You won’t find her. She’s gone.” Pharynx hit the table again, perhaps out of frustration, perhaps simply because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. “Unacceptable. We can’t just let her get away.” “We already have.” “Do you even want to recapture her?” Pharynx snarled. “Or are you still under her spell?” Thorax gave his brother a withering stare. “No, I just don’t want to waste our time looking for a needle in a haystack that’s also made of needles.” He sighed deeply. “Chrysalis could be anywhere by now, and anyone. We only caught her at the Crystal Empire on a hunch.” “I never asked about that. How did you know she’d go there?” “It’s what I did. When I was hungry, and alone, and desperate. That place gives off love like a beacon. She won’t go there again, though, not now she knows we’re watching it.” Pharynx grunted, but Thorax had heard that grunt before. His brother might not have liked it, but Thorax was right and he knew it. Chrysalis was gone. “Should we tell Celestia?” Pharynx asked. Thorax shook his head. “We didn’t even tell the ponies we’d captured Chrysalis, they definitely would have objected to keeping her here. I was hoping I could show up with a transformed and reformed queen and then it would be too late to argue, but I guess none of that matters now. The whole thing’s a bit embarrassing, to be honest. We should probably never mention it.” Yes, don’t mention that Chrysalis manipulated you. Don’t mention that you fed her and gave her exactly what she wanted, that she now has a bellyful of new drones ready to lay, that she can start a new hive, a new army. Best keep that quiet. Best act like it had nothing to do with you. “And what about the other thing?” asked Pharynx, gesturing at the offending object on the table between them. Ah yes. That. The egg she’d left behind. “I say we destroy it,” Pharynx growled, hitting the table again. Thorax was fairly sure he’d left a dent in it. “Do you know what it is?” Thorax asked. “Does it matter? It’s from Chrysalis, it can’t be anything good.” “It’s a queen,” said Thorax, and now Pharynx didn’t seem to have a response. Instead his brother stared at the egg as if seeing it for the first time. Black tendrils crawled over its glowing green surface, frozen in place. It was far bigger than any drone egg had ever been, almost the size of his head, and if Thorax stared hard enough into the misty green fog inside, he swore he could make out some dark shape growing inside it. “Are you sure?” Pharynx’s question was quiet, mystified. “Yes,” Thorax answered. He wasn’t really sure how he knew, but he did. A queen. The changelings’ last hope for survival. ...his daughter. “Why would Chrysalis do that?” And to that Thorax had no answer. He was as surprised as anyone when the egg was found, even after all he and Chrysalis had talked about during her captivity. She’d reneged on every other part of their deal – he was still here, for a start – and so giving them a queen made no sense. He had theories, of course. Perhaps this was a trick, perhaps this new queen would be as untameable as Chrysalis herself, and would subjugate them all beneath her. Perhaps it was a reminder, that Thorax had bred her and given her the capability to start a new hive, that he was to blame. Or perhaps it was some kind of repayment for the same. But Thorax thought it was guilt. Thorax thought she had seen the truth in him, seen all he was willing to sacrifice, seen how content and well-fed his changelings were. It was too late for Chrysalis to reintegrate herself, or at least she thought it was – too many bridges to unburn – and so she had given them a queen as penance for her mistakes. For her cruelty. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. Whatever the truth, the egg was real. And soon it would hatch and the hive would be saved. The changelings would be saved. “What did you do?” Pharynx wondered aloud, voice still hushed, as if he might wake whatever was slumbering in the green mist. “What I had to,” Thorax answered. The two changelings stared at the egg between them. Watching, waiting. And, deep inside, the dark shape within began to move.