Diseased

by Billblok

Day 1, Afternoon: Kindness in Captivity

Fluttershy's eyes slowly opened, but no light greeted them. The space around her was quite restricted, and she had to stay curled up in a little ball to actually fit. She was too tired to make any sort of struggle or search for some way out, so she just lay there. The worst part was how she thought that being in such a claustrophobic situation would be uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Whatever she was in supported her body just right, and she was gently rocked back and fourth as it carried her along an unseen path. She was sure something was wrong, but she had no idea what it was yet.

The rocking was soon replaced by a steady buzzing sound, and her thoughts drifted to Chrysalis. She had been in an awful state, her legs broken and chitin cracked along the back. She had a terrible gash along one side of her face, too, and her horn was cracked. But that wasn't everything. She wasn't sure what was normal, but when the changeling queen vomited up that black slime, she was certain it wasn't healthy. It was obvious she was fighting an infection of some sort. It amazed her that she was somehow able to stand up after ingesting her small amount of love that she could offer.

Her world shifted, and a green flame flickered next to where her head was, opening up to a hole large enough for a pony to fit through. Fluttershy winced at the light outside the hole, but was nevertheless eager to leave the small space and get on to stable ground. With some measure of struggle, she crawled out, falling awkwardly between the Changeling Queen's front legs. Staring up she looked in confusion as the hole in Chrysalis' abdomen shrank to nothing, licked away by green tongues of fire. Then she looked at herself, sitting in the sand in the desert. She gasped in horror.

Instead of the yellow coat she was familiar with, her body was entirely black with hard chitin covering every square inch. Her mane and limbs had holes going cleanly through them. The only things that were spared from the transformation were her eyes, and strangely enough, her cutie mark. Her heart had began to race. What were the implications? Had the queen... converted her while she was inside of her? Would her mind soon connect to this foreign species, and make her lose herself? Would she have to live off the love of her friends? would she hold part in the next invasion?? She shivered, trying to hold back tears.

"I hope you don't mind the little change to your body that I gave you," Chrysalis began. "But I thought would probably get less flack if I claimed you were my daughter rather than a pony." She stared up at the queen, her ears flat against her skull. A hoof pulled her up to her shaking legs. "Come on; I have things to show you."

I don't know why I spared her in the first place. But here I have that pony, hidden in plain sight, right inside the empty cavity where most of my organs used to be, now blended in with the rest of my body; still functional, but more compact. I've always wondered how ponies could live with such limitations to their bodies. I mean, who would ever be able to go without an immediate way to store things on their person? Clothing's just redundant.

To not attract attention from the ponies, I spend the first leg of the journey walking, preferably a little ways into the forest; That way, they won't catch a changeling walking, or hear suspiciously buzzing wings. Ponies and animals frequently ignore out-of-place things if you act like it's your normal route. But I'm confused. Ever since consuming her love, I've been having foreign thoughts. They're more subtle now, but it doesn't keep me from noticing them.

Protect her.

Keep her safe.

Keep her comfortable.

As I walk further into the forest where no ponies can actually see me, I idly check my occupant's vitals. She seems fine, but I stir her awake from her love exhaustion. It's been a few hours, of course she would probably be able to wake up by now. The vegetation starts to be the sort that handles dry climates better, and that's my cue to take up on my wings and fly. I wince from the pain as my cracked wing covers open up for my delicate, lightweight appendages to unfold, thankful that the semi transparent wings came out of the disaster unscathed.

I lift off, set for one destination in mind, and wonder how I'll get the pony into the hive, and stay in. An idea strikes me. I know, I'll make her look like a changeling so she thinks she is a changeling! Then she'll think she isn't fit for pony society any longer, and she'll stay with me, safe and protected!

What's wrong with my head...? I shake my head to clear my mind and cast a changeling spell to disguise the pegasus. She won't be able to change back without my command, so she should be fine. Then I land, allowing her an opening to get out of. She appears properly convinced that this is permanent. Telling her that I changed her body is all it takes for her to give up going back to where she came from.

With a hoof, I help the pony up to her legs, staying close to her for support. It's quite obvious she's still quite fatigued from my... consumption of her love, especially since her sclera(1) is very much green. Her eyelids droop, and her legs quiver. It'll be some time before she stops blindly obeying commands, or for her to be able to survive any more feeding. It doesn't matter, I'm not doing much better anyway, and it takes a lot of work to hide my own exhaustion from the trip from the little town to my home.

Or at least, what's left of it. Looking at the naturally dark and barren place, I see some glints of my soldiers returning to the hive, some limping on, before falling and having to be carried by the more fortunate, some flying on injured wings. My workers and care-takers rush to these changelings, their eyes wide in fear and concern.(2)

Some of those soldiers had spouses and children, which they would probably never return to, if the Equestrians caught them. Those soldiers send reassurances to my mind that they would recover, and I should do what I always did, which was to lead on. It isn't necessary; the tears stopped falling long ago.

I continue to limp, my body aching again after what seemed like hours of feeling perfectly healthy, until I hear crying next to me. The pony can't keep her eyes off the changeling soldiers, their eyes pierced and their legs snapped nearly all the way through. Some leave violet trails of blood as they drag themselves home. A mother and a nymph cry over the body of the nymph's father. The pony sobs, even as I open up the cracked covers on my back to lay a glittering wing over her.

"They... they look s-s-so sick..." She whispers. There's that word. Sick. I'm not sick, that was just a frequent problem of mine, and who cares that the holes in my body are bigger, that changes nothing! I retract my wing, urging her forward and through the entrance to the hive. I don't know why I'm so quick to get to my living quarters; my children already believe that the pony is actually my daughter.(3)

By the time I get to my chambers, giving reassurances I am in fact all right, my stomach feels sick. It appears that the problem has come up again. Luckily, I'm strong enough to cast an anti-nausea spell before I have a repeat of this morning. I then promptly collapse on one of the couches I have, before any of the other symptoms can pop up. I'm just glad to be home after two weeks away, even if I couldn't remember the second week.

I watched as the pony slipped up on her tired hooves, awkwardly falling over. Then with my magic, I picked her up and rest her on my bed, again driving myself into confusion over such an act. No one, and I mean no one was ever allowed on my bed, not even my own sons and daughters. What makes her so special? Whatever, I can feel her gratitude, and she needs it, right?

Despite her grattitude, the question still comes up from the pony. "...Why did you spare me...?"

...That's a real good question.

Fluttershy walked into the spacious room as the changeling queen fell unceremoniously on a couch. The room was round, with green stain-glass windows at the other end of the room. In the middle of the room lay several lounging couches, one of which Chrysalis was in, and a hearth to the right of those. At the left and back was a wardrobe, and to its left was a bed with four tall posts, a roof, and a curtain for shutting out the daylight. Everything was colored in a scheme of black, blue and green. On the ceiling was a green crystal with one long spire and eight smaller spires which jutted out diagonally from the base of it; probably a chandelier. She only managed a couple more steps before fatigue made her lose her footing and fall to her side.

The emerald aura of the changeling queen lifted her up, gently placing her down on the bed. The bed was adorned with black covers and dark green pillows at one end. She felt uncomfortable actually properly laying down, feeling it might be some sort of forbidden thing to even be on the queen's bed in the first place.

...Why?

Why had Chrysalis allowed her to sit on her bed?

Why did she place a comforting wing over her when she was upset for the changelings?

Why was she there to make sure she didn't fall on the way to her chambers?

Why had she helped her up in the first place?

"Wh- why... Why did you spare me...?"

There was a long silence from the changeling queen, lost in her thoughts. Eventually, she dodged the question with one of her own. "What's your name, pony?"

She shrank down. "Fluttershy..."

The changeling queen nodded. "Do you know why you're here?" Fluttershy shook her head. "I suspected not. I was honestly hoping you'd know." The queen sighed. "It would be rude to not give you my name. I'm Chrysalis."

Fluttershy said nothing, simply staring at the quilt. So much had happened. First, she was dragged to this hive. Second, she lost all semblance of her identity by being converted into a changeling. Now she was being held against her will, after nearly being killed because of a little bit of kindness. But she could bear those facts. Chrysalis was now full, and won't seek out another victim for a while. Fluttershy's life was spared; and as of late, She was being treated far better than she expected. But there was still the question of why. Why... why had she been spared? Why choose her first to separate and capture the elements? Why treat her so well? Why had she been giving the fortune of living without worrying about food, when the changelings sometimes went for days without it? Why did they suffer, while she prospered...?

It wasn't fair. Fresh tears left her tired eyes. She was sick of crying. Furiously, she rubbed at her eyes, trying to hide her tears. It wasn't fair. Her breath hitched from the oncoming crying. She was sick of it. Sick of crying, sick of her heart so easily breaking, sick of the fact she had such danged good fortune.

"It's not fair..."

Chrysalis looked back at Fluttershy. "What's not fair?"

"Why do your people have to suffer...?"

"We're not suffering..."

"Y-yes you are, I'm the only changeling who *hic* doesn't have any problems, and I have to watch you all get sicker and sicker, trying to get f-food to help heal yourselves."

"We're not diseased."

"But it doesn't work; and h-here I am, unable to d-do a *hic* a thing about it! It's not fair!"

"We're not--"

"It's all wrong! I c-can't live on knowing you're all *hic* dying! it's not fair!!"

"FLUTTERSHY, BE QUIET!!" Fluttershy jumped, staring at her in fear. "We are not diseased. Is that clear?"

"Y-y-yes, Queen Chrysalis..."

Chrysalis sighed. "No, I'm afraid that will not do. The changelings think I'm your mother, so you'll have to act like it. Now let's try it again: is that clear?"

"Yes... Mom."

"I'll... be back later. Get some sleep." Without any hesitation, Fluttershy's eyes sagged, and she tipped over, drowsy, compelled by the same force that sapped her energy from her body. Before she had truly fallen asleep though, one thing had spoken in her head, and she let it out through her mouth.

"Only the meek can truly inherit the universe..."

"...What?"

"T...Tuck me in...?" Fluttershy's eyes closed, and she fell into silence.

Chrysalis sighed, taking in the sight of her "guest"'s slow breaths as she slept. Then she lit her horn to leave the hive on her continued mission.

The door closed behind the pegasus, now sleeping beneath silken quilts; her own body dwarfed by the size of the bed.

What is going on? I feel so sick to my stomach. It's as though I barely have any control over myself.

I know what I'm like. I remember quite clearly what I do and have done to ponies who have no more use to me. It used to be the same old routine. Drain their love, then leave their husks to die helplessly. Since when have I cared for them? Since when did I care for any but my own changelings?

My lips curl into a snarl, and my knees shake. It was her. It must have been her. She's responsible for my sudden loss of control! How dare she toy with my mind! With silent rage, my horn lights up, once more to smite my so-called "daughter". I won't even care that she leaves filthy pony-blood on the bed, she must be executed for high treason!

But I stop myself. This time there's no voice to do that for me. No argument with myself, or anyone else... just me. I can't bring myself to do it... I would just bring about more pain.

My horn's glow fades to a gentler color. It was so easy to do before... what changed in me? Why am I behaving like this? Am I so far gone in desperation for love that I can't dispose of something beyond use for thought that there just might be a measly scrap?

No... not something... someone. With a sigh, I walk towards the doorway, trying to justify my strange actions... but I can't. There is no reasoning behind it, no cause for it; it is but empty... kindness. I'm not sure what to do. Should I go with it, or try to reject it, and return to what I once was? After all, what benefit is there to possibly being nice to ponies?

Without even knowing it, I've already answered my own question, having just finished tucking the pony in. My hoof is only just barely touching, when she subconsciously closes the distance with her muzzle. A strange, warm feeling flows inside of me... and I think I like it. Now I see. There is no true reward for kindness... when kindness is its own reward.

I make a decision then, this time without any doubt or confusion, to never hurt her again. I know why I spared her now. Not because she is useful... Not for my amusement... not because of any sort of madness...

I spared her because I am kind. It's a good thing, kindness. But the warm feeling in particular is quite nice. It's a merciful thing too.

I lean in close to whisper "Sleep well, Fluttershy", before I leave and close the door gently behind me.

I am Queen Chrysalis. Chrysalis, the kind queen. I think I could get used to that title... But I wonder, if kindness is so good, then why didn't I realize that sooner? I'm a queen, I'm supposed to think of these things on my own.

As I decide to set out to my next destination, whatever that is, I hear the most horrible thing one could possibly hear in their minds. A cry of anguished pain and distress. Without any hesitance, I pinpoint the source of distress and speed my way down the corridors. I arrive upon many changelings, all gathered in a small circle. In a strong authoritative voice, I speak: "Minions! What is the cause for such noise?"

A reply, ragged and barely loud enough to hear, returns from inside the circle. "My q-queen... help..." I push through the crowd to find the one that can barely lift himself up at all. I can't blame him, I already notice how weak he is. His body shivers with pain, and there's a cold sweat on his forehead. But that is the least of my concerns. I look at his legs, and find that his holes too have grown bigger; and they don't stop there. The blood leaves my face from seeing the holes along his neck, upon his face, and down his back. Where the holes were too big, his body cracked and fractured.

I barely manage to compose myself, sickened by the poor changeling's state. "Are... are you--"

"Dying, my queen... H-help me..."

No... No, it can't be... "You heard, get him help!"

None of them moved, I get angry. "What are you doing?! Don't the care takers know anything?!?"

"We're sorry, my queen," One of them says. "You were our last option. And if you don't know how to heal him... then who does?"

My head sank, and as carefully as possible, I lift the changeling, trying not to do more damage. I try desperately to patch up the broken being in my arms. Please don't die, oh please don't die, I'll do anything, just please don't die! I was so terrified for him, that he would have to die so painfully, and I could do so little to help. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry; you poor thing, I'm so sorry..."

"My q... queen... are you crying...?"

I gasp, bringing a hoof to my irritated eyes. "I... yes. Yes, I'm crying."

The broken changeling's gentle laughter turns into a sick cough. "It's alright, m-my queen... You've d... done all you could... I... I was only going to live so long..."

"O-only so long? What do you mean?"

My subject's heartbeat is getting weaker. He's got minutes, at most. "H-holes grew bigger... couldn't fly... Couldn't...walk..."

Th-that means--!

"H-holes in m-my lungs...It's too l...Late for me...G-goodbye... m...my q...Chry...salis..."

There have only been a few times I have ever witnessed death personally. The end of a life. The final action before the cutting short of existence. But those times, I only saw at a distance. Feeling the air leaving the changeling's lungs in a long drawn out release makes my own breathing stop for a moment. I wait for him to take another breath. "minion...?"

There's no reply from the changeling. I jostle him gently.

"...minion?" There's still no reply, and finally the tears start falling. My hooves curl around my fallen subject, and I cradle him, whispering apologies over and over. There is nothing I could have done... "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry... I wish I could have done more... At... at least your suffering's finally over... right?"

I'm not sure how long I cry, but the the hooves of the other changelings on my shoulders tell me that I may cry, so I do so. I remember his name; Thorax, it was. A worker, stayed at home; had a mate and three children; now present and mourning his death like I am. Remembered by many as a loving father and a devoted worker. Probably what did him in.

I'm broken out of my mourning when I hear a crack noise. I look at Thorax's body in alarm.

Little by little, the changeling's chitin was fracturing into little pieces. I try to keep it together; put him down, heat treat the chitin to melt the cracks together, anything at all.

His body crumbles in front of me, and a dark purple powder is released. One of the changelings accidentally inhales it, and the holes on her legs grow.

I let out a shrill scream