Unchangeable
Chrysalis awoke the next morning to the sun streaming through the slightly opened wooden shutters. The light splashed against her face, warming it and making her feel a little stronger. She raised a hoof and brushed it against the thin streak of light.
A hoof - she had a hoof. The transformation had worked. Chrysalis laughed - the transformation had worked! Soon Equestria would tremble before her once more, but for now she had to play along. She was still far too weak to fight, or to lead, and it would take time for her people to regroup.
She pulled herself out of the bed, and immediately collapsed to the floor. Mentally delaying the conquest of Equestria a few more days, she struggled to her hooves, resting against the side of the bed to try and catch her breath. She needed a mirror.
Reaching out with her horn, she realised she... didn't have a horn. Nor wings. Fantastic, she thought, she was trapped in the most useless body she could have been put into. At least hiding away in the body of that damnable pretty pink princess she'd been able to keep both her wings and her magic, but if she used either here she'd just give herself away, and right now that was one thing she couldn't afford to do.
She needed a mirror. She needed to see herself. Without knowing what form she had taken, she couldn't maintain it for long, and the haste with which she'd transformed had left her disoriented.
Yet, there didn't appear to be a single mirror in the room. Chrysalis had been many ponies from loving wives to faithful husbands over the years and had seen just how different ponies could be from each other. Mirrors were the one constant, everypony had a mirror. Not so, here.
Chrysalis decided to explore, and stumbled towards the door. She wasn't used to moving while so weak, but she didn't have much choice - she could gain strength later, but for now she needed that mirror.
The door was problematic. Chrysalis, much to her shame, hadn't really ever bothered with doors. When disguised, she normally chose a unicorn to target, simply for conveniences sake, and as her own form she tended to just knock them down. More fun that way.
"This is absurd," Chrysalis snapped, and banged on the door with all her might, figuring that whatever mechanism that kept it closed couldn't stand up to her power. It held, easily, the strong wood absorbing her blasts as it was designed to do. "Agh! What sort of prison is this!"
"Hey!" Chrysalis heard, calling from below. A few moments later there were some frantic hoofsteps, sounding very much like something was running up the stairs to meet her. "Hey, calm down, miss! Nobody's keeping you prisoner here!" Longest Pine exclaimed, easily pushing the door open with a hoof. It opened inwards, not outwards. Of course.
"I... ah, I was looking for a mirror," Chrysalis explained, tainting her voice with just the right amount of confusion and indecision to give off an air of being lost, with just a hint of weakness and a dash of fear. "I'd very much like to wash."
"Oh," Pine coughed, slightly embarrassed. "I haven't had a mirror in..." he drifted off, losing himself in thought for a moment, "oh, years. Not since... well, you don't care about that. There's one in the bathroom, it's small but it should do."
He lead the way, and Chrysalis followed behind as best she could. Her steps were still shaky and even the small journey left her short of breath. She was in no state to do anything notable, not yet.
As soon as she was inside the smallish bathroom, Longest Pine closed the door behind her, sealing her inside. He didn't mean it like that, no doubt, but the closed door was a more impenetrable barrier than the one around Canterlot. Never mind, Chrysalis knew the door would be opened for her when she needed it - she did, at least, still have some modicum of power over at least one other.
The mirror was tiny, barely a foot across and quite grubby. Still, Chrysalis could see herself - or, "Chris" as her new persona was to be called. She'd never made one from scratch before, always preferring to take something that already existed, but she knew nothing about who used to hold this body.
Her coat was a golden brown, and her mane - though unkempt - was a dull silver-grey. Her body looked ravaged, probably from her difficult transformation, and every part of it looked subpar, even for a near-useless earth pony body. She shifted around to see at least some of her side and rear, and the sight dismayed her further. The copy had been very much incomplete.
Her tail ended halfway. Just ended - it wasn't burned, or frayed, it just stopped. Worse, her golden brown coat continued unblemished over her entire body. No cutie mark. Chrysalis laughed quietly and bitterly - maybe this body's special talent was sticking out like a sore hoof at the one time she needed to be stealthy above anything else.
She reached down and pulled the tap, letting a slow flow of ice cold water trickle out into the sink in front of her. As she did her best to wash, she considered her options.
She knew very little about Equestria as it was, she knew nothing about her own falsified past, and she had no real plan other than "Get Better; Get Revenge." As such, she decided that the only sane thing to do would be to play along and try to feed until she was well enough to make it to the nearest town, where it should be quite easy to replace somebody. Perhaps a small child this time, youthful love might grant her a few of youth's healing properties.
Chrysalis began to construct "Chris" in her mind. She knew what she looked like, now, so assuming she could feed regularly staying in this form would be trivial. Personality-wise, Chrysalis had no idea. She was, by necessity, a good actress, but she had never before needed to create her own character.
Something close to herself, then. A little nicer, because ponies didn't tend to appreciate fun things like cynicism, nastiness, or bitchiness, but close enough to her own personality that she wouldn't have to keep wondering what she should say and could act naturally. An amnesiac seemed fitting given that she legitimately couldn't remember anything that could come in useful fitting in here, and that would give her plenty of excuses for being different and out of place.
Fifteen minutes later, Chris knocked quietly on the door. Her mane was, though still ruffled, at least clean, and her smile could melt the hearts of even the strongest man. So she didn't have most of the tools in her deceptive tool kit - her smile was unstoppable, and the pawns of her changeling army spoke of it with awe.
"Thanks," she said, lacing her voice with gratitude, "I needed that."
"You feel up to breakfast yet? I've got some hay on downstairs." Longest Pine asked, holding the door open for Chris to leave.
She held back a gag - pony food always scratched and scraped, it never felt quite right, and it was always disgusting. "That would be lovely." she thanked, not faking the weakness or hunger in her voice. She was starving, but it wasn't the food she'd be eating.
Longest Pine started down the stairs, and Chris followed. She slipped on the third step, and tumbled the rest of the way, ending up at the bottom in a rough pile, lying on top of Pine. "Ow," she whispered, "Sorry. I'm still weak."
Longest Pine smiled and pushed her off, helping her to her hooves with infinite patience. "Ain't your fault, miss, you're lucky to be alive."
He lead her through to the kitchen, letting her rest against his body as they walked and holding her up until she could sit on one of his hard wooden seats.
Silently, he brought two plates over to the table, setting one down in front of her. He asked for nothing in return. Chrysalis felt her shaking hooves stabilise a little as she fed, enjoying the meagre snack of a minor kindness. There was a time, she thought, when she gobbled stallions like this up in one bite, sucking their energy out in a single bite and leaving them for dead. How she wished she had the power to do that now.
"Are you okay?" he asked a few moments later, noticing the hungry look in her eyes, and the way she seemed to be staring straight into his soul.
She shook her head and replied "Oh, I was just thinking, this all looks so... delicious," before taking a bite. It was awful. It tasted completely foul, and Chrysalis wanted nothing more than to spit it in his face. Chris, however, thanked him for it honestly. Or at least, it sounded honest.
"I'm glad, miss."
"Please, call me Chris."
"Okay, Chris. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"
Ah, the question she'd been dreading. Chrysalis could probably throw together a half-believable tale out of pieces of other roles she'd played, but under the circumstances, playing dumb seemed best. "I, uh... I don't know. The first thing I remember is seeing you walk in through that barn door. I can't remember anything before that. Anything at all."
Her voice was a mixture of anguish and surprise, carefully constructed to be as disarming as it could be. She needed the farmer to accept her as harmless and in need of care if she was to take him for everything he had.
"Well, ain't that a crying shame," he sighed, shaking his head. "I was looking forward to getting to know you. I guess we'll just have to do that together, eh?
"There ain't much to tell about me. I work the farm here. I do hay most of the year, but my real passion is carpentry - problem is trees take so long to grow that I always have to wait. This here house is my life's work, y'see. Every year I build another piece, and the rest I sell.
"I'm not so bad off, got plenty of food and plenty of space. More than enough for one man. Stay as long as you like, Chris. Once you're better, you could help out if you need a few bits to get you started again. There ain't much to do here right now, but I'm sure I can think of something for you."
"Thank you," Chris smiled, "I owe you everything. I couldn't possibly thank you enough."
And don't worry, Chrysalis thought. She'd stay exactly as long as she wanted.