//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1: Far to the North 
// Story: Lovefools 
// by magic-aggy 
//------------------------------//

A blanket of white stretched in all directions, extending to the horizon and far beyond. A lone figure galloped across the sweeping, frostbitten plain, accompanied by an odd glow. The snow melted in their wake, leaving behind a trail which quickly froze over after they moved on. Almost nothing else disrupted this world of glaring white, where even the most thoroughly adapted wildlife barely clung to life.

The other intruder to the sterile serenity of the scene was impossible to miss. Far beyond the bright speck of sparkling armour rushing across the expanse, a great black spire jutted from the ground far to the north. Dominating the hostile vista, the grievous black spike was an overwhelming sight, imprinting itself deep in the mind of any creature who saw it.

The figure slowed to a stop, pausing their tireless trek towards their destination now that they stood on the cusp of reaching it. They caught their breath and took in the full horrible majesty of the tower standing before them, shiny chromed armour clinking as they panted.

There was something… wrong, about the cruel dark thing that stabbed up into the northern sky. It was midday, and from where the armoured figure stood the tower blotted out the sun, and gave the strong impression that whoever designed it had always hoped that it would do just that.

It was all spikes, scything curves, and cruel edges. No part of this was made to contain life, at least not life with any future. There was a grim quality to the structure, a certainty, as though it knew what it was and what it represented. It stared back, reminding you that long after your life ends this horrid black spire would still be standing. The smooth black stone seemed to mock even the idea of mortality.

The figure took a sip from a waterskin, etched in runes that kept it from freezing, then slung their saddlebags back on and strode forward towards the base of the tower. The shining steel armour glowed gently, and a shrewd onlooker might note the same runes inscribed subtly all over the bright armour. Few however, could miss the great wall of a shield they carried on their back.

A heavy steel bulwark, the kind that would crush most ponies just for attempting to lift it. While it could in theory be held like any other shield, it was intended for use by a powerful unicorn, levitated magically by a unicorn’s horn. The pony carrying this lumpen mass of iron, so big, so thick, so heavy that it could hardly be called a shield, just so happened to have such a horn, jutting from their forehead in a sharp spiral.

The face of the shield was adorned with a bright blue crest depicting a crystalline heart on a deeper blue background, surrounded by blue and pink stars. Where the cutie mark would be on the flank of the armour, the same crest was inlaid in delicate gilt enamel. The crest marked the figure as a knight, and the shield on their back weighed heavy on them, reflecting the duty they carried in their heart.

As they approached the tower, the ruins scattered around its base came clearly into view. Whatever these structures had once been, they were long ago reduced to abstract chunks of stone. Time and regular battering by the icy wind had worn them further down, but something was off.

Here and there the stone had been… melted? Frozen puddles of stone lay between the debris, and huge pieces of marble dripped and flowed together into messy pools. The heat required to reduce these fragments of a former glory to liquid was too immense to imagine.

Seeing these oddities, the knight slowed their pace and dropped their bags in the snow. Levitating their Greatshield before them, they crept forward defensively, eyes just visible through the visor of their plate armour, darting back and forth, waiting to be accosted.

Settled over and among the stone debris were great drifts of snow. Pure white, paler than the brightest light and powdery fine. The knight carefully clambered over one such drift, taking their eyes off their surroundings for a moment to ensure their footing did not betray them as they half slid, half trotted down the snowbank.

Right as they alighted at the bottom, their ears pricked. A subtle sound caught their attention, a whisper of movement, and of snow crumbling gently to fill a void.

The knight tensed, bulwark at the ready, and waited for a blow…

The seconds passed glacially. A few turned into a dozen, turned into several dozen, turned into a minute. Three minutes passed before the knight began to relax, doubting themselves. It must have just been the sound of snow settling, they reasoned, and they began to trudge further through the ruins towards the base of the tower.

They clambered over another snowdrift, catching sight of the door to the tower from the miniature peak. They had just alighted at the bottom safely, when a whisper of a sound caught their ear again. A rushing noise hit them, but before they could process the sound it was followed by an echoing strike from a huge, arcing tail.

The knight was flung, turning tail over mane as they spun through the air, their flight arrested as they impacted a large piece of granite. There was an unpleasant crunching of armour as they struck the rock, and another a moment later as they fell to the ground.

With their mind reeling and with the wind crushed out of them the knight desperately sought for their shield and for the foe that had cast it and them aside like toys. The gleam of the steel shield caught their eye a few yards away in the snow as they got to their hooves, just as they saw a great claw streaking towards them.

They dove towards the bulwark, retrieving it just in time to save themselves. The cruel trajectory of the claws glanced off the heavy metal, followed by a deep hiss from nearby.

Following the length of the limb that carried the talons that had so nearly divested the knight of their internal organs, the knight’s eyes fell upon their attacker.

The breath they had fought to regain caught in their throat as they took in the ancient creature before them. Claws like sickles, teeth like daggers, and a white scaled hide gleaming brighter somehow than even the snow. Before the knight stood a truly regal dragon.

Staring down at the knight was the only trace of colour on any part of the exterior of the fearsome beast. Two bright lavender irises framed black wells of pupils that seemed to pierce through to the very soul of the pony.

Now hopelessly dwarfed by the dragon, the formerly awe inspiring knight, choked on their own fearful awe at the majesty before them.

Hopelessly dwarfed by the terror inspiring majesty of the dragon looming over them, the knight froze. They stared back, meeting the dragon’s glare in the same way a doe might an oncoming train.

The silence stretched on…  but was finally broken by an elegant, surprisingly gentle voice from the dragon. “It has been an age since I have encountered anyone foalish enough to trespass in these sunforsaken lands. What possessed you to come here, traveller? Do not lie, or I will cut you down before you can think to regret it,” she hissed sternly.

Fear stuck tight to the knight’s throat, but swallowing it they whispered “Forgive me, you are as gracious as you are mighty oh Dragon. Please, I beg thee, let me live. Grant me passage to yonder tower. My love waits within.”

The sound of the knight’s last few words scarcely had time to move through the air and be heard before the white dragon had leapt. In too short a moment for a mortal mind to process, the pony was gripped tightly in the claws of the tower’s guardian.

Slowly pressing the immobile pony into the stony ground, the dragon brought her eye close to the face of the knight. It was still hidden by their armour, which otherwise meant little to the pale guardian.

The watchdog of the prison tower spat bright pink flames into the snow just to the left of the pony’s head, blackening their armour with smoke and threatening to do much more than that at a moment’s notice.

“Liar,” snarled the dragon. “Did I not warn you? Heed my words pony, answer again, and if you lie to me you will be reduced to ash and lost in the wind. Why would you risk your meagre, fragile life to free the prisoner in the tower? What is so important?”	

The pony, reduced to not much more than a doll in the grip of the great and terrible wyrm, strained to speak despite the pressure of the claws around them. Two tiny, barely audible words escaped their lips and hung in the air.

“True… Love.”

The dragon stared intently at the pony, as if daring them to backpedal and beg for their life. A long minute stretched by before she spoke again. The anger from before had bled away, replaced by an icy, blunt tone that dripped disgust and pity.

“When you find her, you will wish I had destroyed you now, before you could find out what she really is.”

The pony stayed silent, and after a moment more of glaring into the narrow slits of the steel visor, the dragon withdrew her talons.

Unfurling tremendous feathered wings, the white dragon of the north turned away wordlessly, then took off. The snow was whipped up into a mist that hung in the air as she disappeared into the sky.

The knight lay there, the snow around them that was melted by the dragonfire began to seep into their armour. After several minutes, they carefully pulled themselves to their hooves. Their armour was dented in many places, but still moved freely by some stroke of luck.

The knight gathered up their things, after finding their bearings in the chaotically rearranged ruins that lay at the base of the tower. Then trudging wearily they made their way to the tower entrance.

As they approached they snatched a look up at the body of the tower as it ascended above them. From here the perspective made it impossible to see where it ended, it seemed to extend far into the sky forever.

Another stroke of luck, the door was mercifully unlocked. Dark wrought iron ground against stone, but the gate slid open easily, in spite of the protesting noises of the structure.

The inside of the tower was tight and cramped, the stone of the tower had to be thick and bulky to support the top-heavy design. The space danced back and forth across the line for what constituted the bare minimum required for the staircase to function. To make things worse, no torches lit the way and nor did any windows grace the interior of the tower with the light of the sun.

The knight lit their horn as they entered, and a pale blue light pushed back the shadows inside  just enough for them to make their way up the spire.

It was slow going, hundreds of stairs in plate armour was an endurance test for even the burliest of creatures, and while the pony was courageous, their strength lay more in their magic than their physique. They were forced to pause their journey several times, and halfway up the tower they even fell into a fitful slumber.

Waking groggy, after Celestia knows how long, the knight rose again after a brief meal of hardtack, dried fruit and lukewarm water from their pack. All sense of time seemed to evaporate in this space. They wondered if that was a deliberate part of the design of this behemoth, or just a happy accident on the part of the architect.

Heedless, they climbed onwards, and unknown hours later they ran headfirst into a door, barely saving themselves from tumbling back down the spiral they had just fought to ascend.

It was… a strangely pretty thing, ornately carved wood, stained black. Covered in elaborate repeating patterns of insects, their carapaces interlocking like puzzle pieces as they wove in all directions across the wood.

Like the heavy set portal far below, the knight found this too was not locked. With no knob, the door swung effortlessly into the room as they pushed against it.

Through moth eaten holes in thick, velvet curtains, the sun pierced the darkness of the room, though tinted deep orange by the lateness of the day. There was only a single piece of furniture, an enormous four poster bed in the centre of the austere room. The floor was coated with dust, and somehow every corner of the gloomy room was laden with spiderwebs.

The knight stood in the doorway, as their heart beat hard in their chest, working to dredge from somewhere deep within the courage to proceed.

As they stepped forward, halfway between the door and the bed, a voice broke the silence.

From within the heavy black curtains of the bed a fearful whisper crept. “Hark… whatever business you have, stranger, come no closer.”

It was a strange voice… a sharp serrated hiss, barely audible, pleading to the interloping knight.

”It is for the benefit of every creature that I am imprisoned here. Whatever possessed you to come here, and whatever strength you must wield to best the guardian of this bastille, I beg thee turn around and return to whence thou came.”

The knight lingered, then as they turned to leave spoke calmly. “As you wish.”

“Wait!” The cry rang out, loud in the small, austere space. “Is it really you?” Saying this the occupant of the bed drew aside the curtain, divesting herself of the last barrier that held her away from the world.

The pale blue light of the knight’s horn fell upon the prisoner, her phthalic green carapace glittering as it reflected the light. Wide green eyes peered from the depths of the four poster bed, searching for a clue about the identity of her would-be rescuer through the gaps in their metallic visor.

Entranced, the knight lingered to take in all the details of the mare before them. Long, elegant legs, odd holes bored through her hooves, fragile papery wings, and a long curved horn bearing the same strange holes as her legs. She was draped in a black silk nightgown, and her aquamarine blue hair trailed across the bed and almost touched the floor. The identity of the mare was unmistakable to the knight, who had dreamt of her every night since they parted…

After a moment the knight started slightly, their reverie subsiding as they realised their anonymity. The light from their horn dimmed halfway as they used their magic to remove the plate helmet obscuring their face. Thick curls in pink and purple flooded out from under the helm, which the owner carefully brushed aside. Her pink coat was ruffled and blue grey bags hung under each eye. Despite her exhaustion there was a glimmer in her eyes, and she smiled brightly as her gaze met that of the prisoner.

“I simply could not stand another day without you.” The knight whispered.

A look of terror struck the features of the changeling mare, who recoiled, panic stricken. “No! Please. Don’t throw away your life, after all I’ve done, they’ll never forgive me!”

The knight strode slowly forwards, a soft smile still on her lips as she spoke. “It’s not too late to fix things.”

“No!” A sharp wail cut through the shrinking space between them.”Please! You don’t understand, I deserve this!”

Shrinking back into the darkness of the furthest corner of the bed, the prisoner watched as the knight removed her armour. She sobbed, “Please… You have a life… Don’t abandon it to be dragged down with me.”

The knight spread her luxurious pink wings, relief flooding her face after several days cramped under that armour. The errant princess climbed up onto the mattress and made herself comfortable across from the former queen.

The prisoner flinched as Princess Cadance of the Crystal Empire reached out to stroke her cheek, then allowed herself to be caressed. She remained tense as though in defiance of the act of tenderness, and tears continued to stream down the soft carapace of her face.

After a few moments the pony princess reached forward and pulled the changeling prisoner close to her. The changeling didn’t resist, but did not relinquish the tension she clung to. Cadance held her close, embracing her with an air of confidence and ease. After a few moments, Cadance bade her companion to lay her head upon her lap.

The changeling allowed herself to be led, and the pony began to stroke her back, petting her sweetly and whispering soft reassurances.

Gradually, the tension began to ebb in the body of the deep green mare. Her tears slowed, then stopped, and her breathing became more natural. She found herself questioning the state of things, whether sequestering herself had truly been the only choice.

Shaking off the restful peace that had started to settle on her mind, the changeling sat up. “Cadance… I want to believe you but… after all I’ve done, do you truly believe things can change?”

Reaching forward to cradle the target of her affection again, Cadance whispered close to the other mare’s ear. “For tonight my love, just trust me. We can worry about the details tomorrow.” She kissed the soft shell of her beloved’s cheek, and the changeling shivered, before relenting and leaning into the embrace of her pony suitor.

“As you wish…” murmured the changeling, finally giving into the affections.

Every last vestige of tension and panic faded from her as she and Cadance held each other, alone, together, and with the kind of peace that only comes from certainty.

Then, she tasted it… Radiating off the pony was love richer than the changeling had ever witnessed. Pure, bright, completely earnest. A deep and passionate love, with no doubt to poison it. The kind of love changelings dreamt of.

It was too much, too good to be true. Her instincts were roused by the taste and began to shriek and wail at her. She realised she was starving… Surely it wouldn’t hurt to feed, after all there was so much, and it was being directed at her anyway…

Her eyes shot open and the tension flooded back. The dark green mare tried to speak, but all that came from her jaw was a guttural hiss. Cadance started and pulled away slightly, a worried look came over her face as she spoke. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Her beloved tried to respond, but once again found she could only hiss and screech. Her jaw opened and shut awkwardly as she tried to speak. Something was deeply wrong… She could feel something stirring inside her, baited out into the open by hunger.

The changeling’s eyes went wide with panic as she felt a feral pressure rising inside and her body began to change. Her jaw burst open, splitting into four segmented fangs that clutched at the air and dripped glowing green spittle.

She tried to back away, tried to let go of her pony lover and flee, but as she went to move, the carapace of her hind legs suddenly ruptured and exploded into two pairs of much larger, spindly limbs covered in cruel barbed spines.

Tangled in the thick blankets and struggling madly Chrysalis tried desperately to pull away from the pony princess who loved her.

Cadance was trying to say something, but Chrysalis couldn’t hear her over the sound of her own heartbeat. Hard and rapid, thrumming in her ears as blood pounded through her.

As she struggled to escape the bed, Chrysalis fought hard against the ancient hunger that arose within her. She could feel the changes pressing in, trying to fully transform her into the monster she knew she was deep within. Little by little the changes spread through the rest of her body.

She grew larger, filling the cramped space under the canopy of the four poster bed with a tangle of barbed limbs, a long tail ending in a wicked stinger, and huge translucent wings. She fought to keep her forelegs from changing, and tried to push away from the pink pony that looked up at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.

If she could just hold herself together long enough for the pony to move away it would be okay, she told herself. But the pony just sat there, frozen in terror. Chrysalis tried again to speak, but after a number of strained hisses realised her only option was to push the pony out with her hooves.

Slowly, with exaggerated care and using every bit of willpower she had to stop her forelegs from following the rest of her body in transforming into cruel weaponry, she lifted the pony up and began to move her out of the canopy.

She was so close… relief started to blossom as she realised in a few moments the pony would be clear and she could let the change complete without causing any harm.

But the thought betrayed her, the distraction of relief gave the transformation the window it needed to push through, and the carapace of her forelegs cracked… then erupted.

She was still holding the struggling pony as a huge serrated scythe burst from each of her two remaining hooves. She tried to let go, to let the pink creature she held drop, but the tangle of her limbs in the cramped bed robbed her of her most earnest wish.

There was still a chance, the creature she held was panicking and struggling, but only scratched on the surface. If she could just… let the thing free, surely it would flee on its own.

She tried to slowly extricate her lethal tangle of limbs from the creature she held, but one claw was caught on the blankets.

She tugged at it carefully, straining to pull it free. After a moment the cloth gave way, but as the tension was suddenly broken, the serrated foreleg jerked back, and slashed across the body of the creature that struggled in her grasp.

She dully registered the pink thing making some noise… then felt the fog descending over her mind. This thing she held was so feeble and weak, soft flesh with no hard outer layer to protect it… it would be far too easy to…

Chrysalis shook her head, pulling herself back into focus. Cadance. She had to protect Cadance. Nothing else mattered. She loved Cadance. Chrysalis took in the sorry state of her erstwhile lover. A dozen small nicks dotted the pink of her coat with bright red, and one particularly long but mercifully shallow cut lay across the right side of her torso. She was crying and straining, trying to get free.

Chrysalis’ heart ached at the sight. But it would be okay, she told herself. All she had to do was let Cadance go.

She tried again to free her forelimbs from the tangle they were in, delicately unhooking the barbs of her claws from the thick blankets. She almost had both limbs free, when she slipped again, nicking Cadance’s cheek.

The pink pony, pushed far past the point of normal panic and running on instincts, jerked in response to the latest wound and lashed out with her hind legs, kicking hard against the insectoid chest of the changeling queen and pushing herself forcefully away.

There was a wet noise as the spines of one of Chrysalis’ claws bit deep into Cadance’s flesh.

The smell of blood was suddenly overwhelming.

Cadance looked down in horror at the spikes protruding from her chest… Then up at Chrysalis, searching for some sign, some response.

Chrysalis stared back, frozen in shock. She watched the light fade from her lover’s eyes, and felt the hunger flare up again in her mind.


*****


A scream broke the calm of the night. The source of the shrill noise lashed out at the heavy blankets constraining her in the unfamiliar bed and bolted upright.

She blinked at the darkness, then a moment later a bright verdant light filled the bedroom of the small cottage as she grew a unicorn’s horn and lit it.

She felt her heart racing, and looked around. The grogginess of sleep lay heavily on her mind, and it took a few seconds for her to remember where she was. Her gaze darted over the room, taking in the quaint hoofmade furniture and odds and ends of the home.

Not her home… Or at least, not truly. The pony who lived here was currently suspended in a cocoon full of sedative goo in the basement of the cottage.

So… it was just a dream. Insipid… As she sorted through the events of the nightmare her lip curled in disgust. Despite her current form as a pleasant looking, mint green, chubby earth pony (temporarily sporting a unicorn’s horn) she still managed to radiate her distaste intensely.

How dare those vile pony virtues creep their way into her mind. She was no prisoner, and in spite of the betrayal of her hive she was still a powerful changeling queen. Yes, she was truly alone for the first time in her life. But that was only temporary. Once she had her revenge on the ponies she would return to her hive, crush the upstart Thorax, and reclaim her rightful place as ruler of the most powerful changeling hive in all of Equestria.

She sighed, flicking her adorable, cotton candy pink mane out of her eyes. At least that was the plan. Normally she never let herself indulge in doubt. She was a Queen, perfect in every way. Or so she had been raised to believe.

In the months since she had been ousted and had fled from the hive, she had had much time to think. Alone and in exile, doubts blossomed frequently in her mind. At first she had strived to stomp each and every one out before it could take root, but despite her best efforts, over time she had been worn down. Between the loneliness, and the constant fear that she might be caught by the ponies as she was forced to live amongst them to feed, her self-righteous certainty had gradually been eroded.

Now, as the cold light of the moon shone between the gaps in the bedroom curtain Chrysalis found herself wondering for the first time whether she was truly in the right.

A tiny, insidious thought wormed its way to the front of her mind. It said simply, if she had been a good queen, why did her changelings leap at the chance to rid themselves of her? Not even a single bug had held back, or stood by her side.

She sat in silence, staring fixedly at a mote of moonlight on the bed in front of her.

All she had ever done had been in service to the hive. To lead her changelings out of the shadows and into the light, to rule over their prey as ought to be their right. Other hives contented themselves on living on the fringes, just taking what they needed and eking out a pathetic existence dependent on the ponies. Self made lap dogs that were too stupid to realise how disgusting they were, she thought, sticking her tongue out and grimacing dramatically.

She had dedicated her life to the betterment of her changelings… Yes. Even if they couldn’t understand her ways, even if she had been cruel and cold. It was for the good of the hive. If they had trusted her, and if those revolting ponies hadn’t stuck their pathetic pastel snouts where they weren’t welcome… It all would have worked.

She lay back down, pulling the blankets back up and sighing again loudly as she did. As she got comfortable, the pink hair of her borrowed form fell into her eyes again. She brushed it aside angrily, then tensed up as a memory bit into her.

“Cadance…” she whispered, so quiet it was barely a sound.

Her heartbeat began to race again and a lump formed in her throat as images of the princess of love’s body, lifeless and punctured, exploded into her mind.

She hadn’t meant to. As much as she wanted revenge, as angry as she was, she would never go so far as to…

She swallowed and shook her head forcefully. It didn’t help. The image of Cadance’s face might as well be tattooed on her frontal lobe. The confusion and fear. The tenderness torn to shreds in a smattering of seconds.

Chrysalis curled up and pulled the warm hoof-stitched quilt over her head, hugging herself tightly.

She would never do something like that. It was just a dream. A cruel, vicious dream, just her brain smashing together bits and pieces that were lingering in her mind when she went to sleep. It didn’t mean anything.

Her mind wandered back to the moment in the dream where she had felt totally at peace… safe and understood. Alone with someone she could trust. Loved.

She dealt in love, thought of it daily, constantly hungered for it. But she had almost never felt it directed at her. Truly at her, not at the facade she was wearing to steal it.

Her mother had loved her, she dimly remembered. But beyond that she had only ever felt the frightened adoration of her subjects. For the first time, she felt the full severity of that gulf in her life, and something inside her began to ache.

Cadance… Chrysalis had almost forgotten her. The princess of love had been outclassed by her sister in law in the hierarchy of ponies that the changeling queen hated. More recently even Twilight Sparkle had been outdone by her latest pupil, Starlight Glimmer.

She tried to recall the feeling of the pink ponie’s soft fur, the warmth and tenderness of the embrace they had shared in the dream. It was too cruel. She knew with a heavy, leaden certainty that she could never truly enjoy something like that. The most she could hope for was to steal it, but part of her hated herself for even thinking to stoop that low.

Was there any version of her life where she and Cadance could have avoided being enemies? Or even become friends? Perhaps… Maybe if she had revealed herself to Celestia long ago when she had become queen, they could have found some mutually beneficial arrangement, and she could have avoided conflict with the ponies altogether.

She hissed, discarding the thought, disgusted at herself for even entertaining the notion of supplicating herself to the ponies.

She was a changeling. The most essential part of her nature was that she preyed upon ponies. For all their talk of friendship and forgiveness, the lamb cannot love the wolf.

Still… It was a shame.

As sleep closed in and she gradually fell victim to the warm comfort of the pony bed, the lonely green mare thought again of how it had felt to be loved, and fell asleep with her mind full of thoughts of the beautiful pink mare who had loved her…