• Published 29th Nov 2012
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Maternal Instinct - Magic Man



Chrysalis has never been what most would call an 'ideal mother' to her only living daughter, the sickly Crown Princess Pupa. However, after a dreadful incident, the Changeling Queen is forced to confront her missteps as both a mother and a ruler.

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Chapter Three

Maternal Instinct

Chapter Three

The gardens of the royal palace were first built some 300 years ago, under the order of King Cocoon. They were a gift for his new wife, the beautiful Queen Consort, Vespa, who he knew adored flowers, especially those of the rare calibre. The new gardens became home to the kingdom’s prettiest and rarest plant life, all for the queen and her family’s eyes alone. As years passed, they took on the characteristics of the more traditional styles of Changeling gardens, and eventually divided up into a large modern ornate complex to accommodate them. Today, few creatures outside the palace have seen such an awe-inspiring pocket of the world for themselves.

“Stay on my back, Princess,” Cerci told her as they trekked their way down the garden path which had been covered in a blanket of freshly fallen snow. A nasty chill was in the air, turning the koi ponds’ surfaces into solid ice. The nanny wore several layers (with a satchel hung around her shoulder), but it did little to keep her warm.

Pupa, on the other hoof, looked positively snug as a bug. Cerci had wrapped the Princess up in twelve layers of clothing (far more than herself), complete with a thick scarf, three socks on each hoof and a large, furry hat. It was the strict rule that whenever she went outside in even the slightest cold weather, she was kept as wrapped up and warm as possible, to the point she could barely move her legs anymore. All of said layers made it even difficult for her to squirm atop of Cerci’s back, no matter how much she tried, though the warmth she received against the biting cold air made up for the discomfort.

She looked above and saw with amazement the millions of tiny white flakes flittering down from the bright grey sky, one of them landing on the tip of her muzzle. She reached her hoof to it, but only to find a little bit of water. More flakes fell on her face and mane and she noticed that they too quickly turned to water. She kept her mouth wide open, trying to catch some more on her oversized tongue.

“We’re here, darling,” said Cerci, stopping where she stood and lifted the filly off her back and onto the white ground. They stood before a lush bed of fine pink tulips, arranged neatly like they were a disciplined company of soldiers. After a pause or two, Pupa steadied herself on her shoddy forelegs and, with an encouraging nudge from Cerci, she forced herself to haul her weight forward and crawl across the frozen, crunchy blades of grass.

But as Pupa crawled towards them, she felt her surroundings surprisingly turned warmer than they were just seconds ago, and the grass turn softer and moist as the frost melted. It felt like a lazy summer’s day, despite everything she saw around her telling her otherwise. She looked up and around to see the snowfall had stopped around her and the flowerbed, though it continued everywhere else.

The little one shrugged off the strangeness and got to marvelling her tulips. In her mind, these were her tulips, nochangeling else’s. Only she was allowed to idol their colour and figures and lose herself in their aroma. Greedily, she decided to pluck the nearest one for herself, but was foiled by the overseeing nanny.

“No, Pupa,” she told her sternly, giving her a firm tap on the hoof to make her release the tulip, “you’re supposed to look at them, don’t touch them.”

Pupa whined defiantly and tried to snatch the tulip again, but Cerci would have none of it and had to hold her back. It did not stop the Princess, who kept squirming in her forelegs like a worm wriggling through the soil.

“Pupa, I said ‘no’!” Cerci scolded, raising her voice but still keeping it to a reasonable tone, in case anychangeling was nearby and within earshot.

The Princess soon stopped, though more from exhaustion than obedience. She grinned slyly as she got an idea, not a particularly clever one, but it worked in the past. She covered her face with her sleeves and forced herself to weep so loud Cerci could not ignore it.

“It’s not going to work, Princess.” She stood her ground and picked the little one up. “You can’t have one, and that’s that.”

But Pupa’s resoluteness was greater than her nanny’s and the moment she was picked up, she threw back her head and raised the pitch in her voice, turning her weeping into a full-blown shriek. Cerci released her and covered her ears to drown the horrid sound out. Pupa brought her voice up to the equivalent of the world’s biggest hoof being dragged slowly down the world’s biggest chalkboard.

“Okay, okay! Alright!” Cerci yielded in seconds, and with that, the noise stopped and she looked down to see Pupa grinning ear-to-ear jovially as normal. She let out a sigh, knowing she had no choice now. Baby always got what she wanted. Reluctantly, she leaned over to the flowerbed and quickly plucked a small, less noticeable tulip from the collection and levitated it before her. “Where do you want it?”

Barely containing her excitement, Pupa batted the left side of her head. Cerci understood and slid the flower carefully into the filly’s mane, just above her ear. The Princess was overjoyed; she rubbed up against her foreleg like a purring cat, allowing her to adjust the tulip so it faced upward. Cerci could not help but smile.

The two continued their journey through the gardens, stopping every two minutes to admire more flowers and with enough whining, added a new addition to the pretty bouquet forming in Pupa’s mane. Exploring the gardens had been their favourite activity together since the day she was first brought here as a grub. It was a welcome change from the dark, dismal caverns of the palace. The only real problem was, naturally, Pupa’s inability to admire natural beauty instead of just putting her hooves on everything in sight.

They passed a large pond on their way to the camellias. It was not a particularly special pond; it had no ornamental or floral decorations and looked like it was being left unattended. But once she saw it, Pupa became fixated with it, not in the manner of a filly with its favourite toy, mind you, but as something she dreaded. Just looking at the pond caused her fur to raise and she gave a hard tug on Cerci’s collar to get her to stop walking.

Cerci barely had to look at the pond to get the idea and groaned with exasperation, “Oh, this again...” she set her down again and opened up and rummaged through the satchel. “Don’t worry, I’ve brought it.” What she pulled out was a large, ripe cucumber which had been written on with ink. She knelt down and said, “Do you want to do it this time, or me?”

Pupa shook her head and whimpered, crawling up behind her as if to use her as a protective shield.

Approaching the pond, the nanny stopped at the edge and awkwardly held up the cucumber. She glanced around to check nochangeling was watching, and then back at the expecting Pupa, before tossing the cucumber into the pond with a resulting plop.

“There,” she said with finality and a small smile. “It’s done. The Kappas will leave you alone, sweetie.”

This odd little ritual pacified the filly and restored her joyful mood. She returned to her place on the elder’s back and smooched the top of her head. Cerci took this affectionate display for the Princess’ way of saying ‘thank you’ and accepted it.

“You’re welcome, Princess.”

Inwardly, she sighed. She now regretted the nights she spent reading those old stories to the Princess. Make no mistake, she cherished every moment they shared together and each night she read, Pupa hung onto every word she spoke with wide-eyed fascination, be it The Fountain of Youth or The Husband of the Rat's Daughter. What filled Cerci with regret were the times she told her stories of those damn Kappas.

The first time she was told them, Pupa was fascinated by stories of the flamboyant water sprits, known as the Kappas, what in turn encouraged Cerci to tell her more stories about them. At first, she saw no harm; they were only stories, after all. But she made the mistake of forgetting to take into account the filly’s naiveté. Cerci herself doubted such even creatures existed, but for such an impressionable child they were as real as the sun that gave them light and the air they breathed. She became anxious whenever she was near rivers and ponds, the places where Kappas were supposed to dwell, fearing the creatures would spring out of them and eat her up like they did all changeling fillies. Cerci was then forced to perform the ritual of writing the names of her and loved ones into the Kappa’s pond to appease the demons and gain their favour, if just to give Pupa peace of mind.

Of course, Chrysalis was far from impressed when she caught wind of it, once commenting, “Oh, so now she’s scared of imaginary water monkeys. How will she handle the ponies? Have you throw oats at them and hope they’ll go away?”

Near the end of their little walkabout, the nanny and Princess sat down on a snowy knoll on a decorative rolled out carpet. This was time spent to just sit back and enjoy the sounds and scenery of the garden. Cerci sat up with crossed legs and sat Pupa between them, letting her rest her little head against her chest as they did nothing but listen.

The babbling brooks. The splashing waters of the miniature waterfalls creating a steady pattern of endless rhythm. The chirping of the crickets and birds. All came together to create a sweet symphony of serenity, one which proved short-lived when broken by a noise, faint but incessant, one that did not belong in this natural environment. Cerci picked up on it and quickly traced it.

“Princess, what are you doing?”

Cerci stared down and witnessed the filly nuzzling into her chest yearningly, piercing and loudly puckering her lips in a perfect ‘O’. She stopped when caught and returned a guilty look, pressing down on her stomach. She was hungry. Gently, she pushed her away from her chest. “No, sweetie. We don’t do that anymore. You’re too old. C’mon, let’s go inside and get lunch.”

As luck would have it, just as they were about to do that, Cerci ducked and covered Pupa protectively in her legs. She felt something fly fast over their heads. For a second, she thought it was a rock or a spear, but when she opened her eyes, she was immensely relieved to see it was only a large red ball, which rolled to a slow stop several yards from them.

The sound of heavy panting came from over the knoll as somechangeling ran in their direction. Cerci glowered at this newcomer and levitated the ball towards herself before standing up to meet her.

The newcomer, a flustered female servant who was badly underdressed for the weather, stopped a few feet from them, sweet dripping from her face and holding her burning chest. She was shivering uncontrollably from the biting cold, made worse by being caked up to her knees in snow. She looked like she was trying to say something, but was completely out of breath, leaving Cerci to start the conversation.

“Looking for this, Thysbe?” She asked unimpressed, levitating the ball up to her.

“I… I need to get this back,” she did her best to explain, stopping to swallow and prevent herself from collapsing from exhaustion. “The Princess will--”

“Thysbe! Hurry up!”

That loud, shrill voice shriek came from only a short distance away, piercing their ears like a long, serrated knife. They recognized the voice; Cerci rubbed her temples, but Pupa smiled and tugged Cerci’s sleeve.

“Uh, sweetie… I thought you wanted to eat. I’m sure you’d rather--”

Pupa opened her mouth wide, taken in a deep breath…

“Let’s go,” she said immediately, tossing the ball back to Thysbe.

Over the knoll, the trio made their way down the slope, struggling through the thick blankets of snow that reached up to their bellies. Cerci had to play a careful balancing act to keep Pupa from falling off her back, and the repetitive shouting from their beckoner was certainly not helping.

Finally, they reached their destination: a large, warm patch of garden shielded from the snowfall, almost the size of a regular garden and outlined with white chalk. It was covered in nine hoops set up in a pattern and the same types of coloured balls Thysbe were returning scattered about the grass. A game of sorts was being played here.

Standing inside this protected zone was a crowd of female changeling nobles and servants, the former all dressed up like they were attending a garden party or picnic. The noblemares were circled around one particular female, a tall, beautiful royal who was busy levitating a long mallet, which she dangled idly over the ground like a pendulum. The only other changeling that stood out amongst them was a restless little colt who stood at the feet of his own nanny, fidgeting non-stop on the spot, becoming increasingly fed up the longer he had to wait there.

The female in the centre stood roughly the same height as her older sister, sporting a smooth, attractive combination of dark purple mane, tail, carapace and eyes. She bore a strong resemblance to Chrysalis, but whilst she was now much wider and curvier, this royal was the complete opposite. The mare was as thin as a rake, with the kimono she was wearing practically hanging off her frame. Her face was particularly gaunt and made to look further ghastly by the same sunken eyes common in their family.

The irritated look on the royal’s face made it clear her patience was running thin. She took a look at her golden watch and tapped her hoof on the ground.

When she saw the three changelings entering the zone, she was no less annoyed. “There you are,” she snarled at Thysbe and pointed at the chalk lines she just walked over. “Reset the ball. Nine inches. Use my mallet to make sure you get it right.” She shoved the mallet into her hooves. “Go.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” replied the shivering, damp servant who was about to fulfil her duty, but momentarily stopped to formally introduce the newly arrived royal. “Oh, uh, Princess Danauria, your niece, Princess Pupa.”

The older mare’s demeanour changed in a snap of a griffin’s talons as she and the nobles seemed to only take notice of Pupa’s existence that moment. A sweet, caring smile appeared on her gaunt face, solely from the filly’s presence.

“Ohhh, there’s my favourite niece!” Princess Danauria whisked her horn and Pupa flew off Cerci’s back and up to her chest, holding her in her foreleg. She hugged her and smothered her with kisses like she were a pedigree puppy, and Pupa returned the love to her favourite aunt with gusto. Danauria spotted the bouquet sticking out of her mane, which was now so large it was a wonder how her head kept balanced. “What’s this?” She asked with no hint suspicion, but the question was aimed at Cerci, judging by her hardening eyes focusing on her.

Sweat formed on Cerci’s head as she mentally kicked herself. She had forgotten completely about the flowers! Danauria was going to have her head for this: one of her favourite white roses was part of the ensemble.

“Well… it looks sweet.” She said, her sweet mother-like smile suddenly returned, but her eyes remained on her. “It’s a good thing you and Pupa are here, Cerci. We’ve just started a lovely game of croquet.”

“Cro-ket, Your Highness?” Cerci asked, confused. “I’ve never heard of such a game.”

“Of course you haven’t,” the older Princess sneered, flicking her mane. “It’s a game played by ponies of Canterlot high society.” The noblemares around her held up their own large mallets, as well as their heads, proudly.

“Canterlot?” She did not like the sound of that, at all. “You mean you’re playing an Equestrian game?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Of course not, my Princess,” she verbally backpedalled. “I… I just meant to ask i-if the Queen was alright with this.”

Princess Danauria waved a dismissive hoof, laughing heartily, “Oh, don’t you worry about dear Chrysie; she’s far too busy with all her tedious royal business.” She put her hooficured hoof to her chest, putting on a sophisticated air. “We’re merely enlightening ourselves with Equestria’s rich, superior culture.”

The lavender-maned changeling tried to conceal her intense distaste for this snooty Princess with an insincere smile. To her, Danauria and her little entourage’s ‘enlightening’ was a disgrace to the royal family and their kingdom. They arrogantly cast away their people’s values of modesty and quiet dignity so to indulge themselves in the extravagance and garish decadence of what countries like Equestria and the Griffin Kingdom had to offer; she could smell the combination of many different but strong Equestrian and Griffin perfumes humming off them, almost making her gag.

“Why don’t you join us?” Danauria asked all of a sudden.

“Oh, uh…” Cerci knew she could not exactly refuse, but tried to find an excuse. “Normally, it would be an honour, Princess, but Pupa and I--”

“Excellent,” she rudely cut her off. “Thysbe, get her a mallet.”

“But I was going to take Pupa inside--”

She bounced the little Princess up and down in her leg, making her giggle. “There’s no harm for the little one in staying out a little longer. In fact…” Handing her back over to Cerci, Danauria looked over her shoulder and beckoned, “Morphin, sweetie, c’mere!”

The colt, who had gone virtually unnoticed for a while, begrudgingly walked towards them with his nanny in tow, the latter a changeling by the name of Silverfish, whose tired, haggard face told the story of a mare who was just ready to drop dead. She wore the same plain garbs as any other servant, the only distinguishable thing about her being the way she wore her olive green mane in a loose bun.

While Danauria was, by all accounts, a beautiful mare, her little dependent was far less appealing to look at. He was no older than Pupa, with a long, thick, matted mane of a colour so dark in tone it could have been any. Like Pupa, some of his limbs were badly disproportionate, like his left hind leg, leaving him leaning to his right. His dental work was poor: a lot of his teeth were crooked or twisted about and some were missing entirely, made only more noticeable by his underbite. Worst of all were his pale blue eyes, bulging not sunken and one staring out in another direction. The effect was frightening, and one could not fault Cerci for recoiling before bowing to them.

Danauria knelt down to his level, asking him, “Morphin, how would you like to go play with Pupa?”

“Mama!” the little one shrieked, not paying attention to her question as he jumped up and down, reaching up to her, or rather, the mallet she was levitating. “Mama, I wanna play with the hammer! I wanna play with it!”

“No, darling, its Mama's,” she admonished gently, but gave him a loving pet on the head. “Croquet’s for grownups. You can have fun with Pupa, instead.”

The second the colt looked at his cousin, he became upset and shook his head violently. “NNNO! No, no, no! I don’t want to play with her! No, no, no!” He shouted in his screechy little voice. This frightened Pupa, who wrapped around Cerci’s neck and buried herself in her shoulder.

His little outburst did not please his mother, who calmly told them, “Give us a moment…” she then angrily took her son aside, hissing into his ear, “Now you listen here…” the rest was inaudible for the other changelings, but from her furious rasps, it was not pleasant. It went on for a minute at most, before they turned back around, Danauria smiling once again. “Right, so you kids can go spend some quality time together by the koi pond while we play croquet.”

Cerci wanted to protest, or better yet, just turn around and leg it; leaving Pupa alone with this particular cousin of hers was not a good idea. But she knew she had no choice and hesitantly, she followed Silverfish as the two took their charges over to a nearby koi pond.

The koi pond was frozen, and only the small orange blur revealed where the trapped fishes were moving about underneath. Silverfish cast a spell overhead, causing the snow to stop falling in the spot they were standing, and the pintsized royalty were sat down facing each other on the snow still covering the ground.

Pupa felt uncomfortable sitting with him and was absolutely shocked to see Cerci and Silverfish slowly walking away from them. She whimpered for her, holding out her forelegs for her to come back.

She did indeed come back, but only to kiss her and comfortingly tell her, “It’s alright. Play with him for a little while. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” With that, the two older mares departed.

Now alone, the two children sat there in total silence, save for the crackling ice on the koi pond and the whistling cold breeze, staring at each other awkwardly for what seemed like forever.

Although she could not say it, Pupa did not enjoy being around her cousin; there was something about the way he looked and the way he acted that made her very nervous. She only wanted to be away from him as soon as possible.

Prince Morphin was the first to finally break the ice. “You… look... pretty,” he said slowly, but his loud voice still made her uncomfortable.

She tilted her head, looking at him confused. Was he trying to be sweet to her?

“Mama told me to --I mean… uhh, I wanna touch your mane.”

He raised his hoof and, with the greatest apprehension, reached forward to touch her face. She shrunk away, whining in protest, but he touched her anyway. At first, the fur on his hoof felt rough and bristly like the brush Cerci used to clean her during bath time, and yet she got used to it pretty quickly and remembering her fondness for being petted, she slowly allowed him to explore the rest of her face and onto her mane.

Morphin was quite enjoying himself; he found her mane to be smooth and silky like the dolls’ from the nursery. Wanting more, he took one thick lock and rubbed it against his cheek. Pupa did not mind, she thought it was funny. He did start pushing it, though, when he began poking her close to the eye.

“Your eye’s doing it too!” he said, getting excited.

“Huh?” The Princess squeaked.

He pointed at his own bugging eye, the one that stared in another direction from the other. “Your eye’s weird, like mine!”

Pupa felt offended by that remark, and she sensitively flapped her hoof over her eye. Sometimes her right eye would stare off a bit, as it supposedly was doing now, but she did not like other changelings talking about it or pointing at it.

“You’re drooling!” Morphin continued, by now breaking out into a fit of giggles. “Why’re you doing that? Only hatchlings drool.”

She looked down and saw the front of her kimono was stained with her own dribble and the sticky substance was pouring off her bottom lip like a waterfall. Her lip began to quiver. Morphin was being mean and laughing at her.

Morphin clearly did not pick up that he was upsetting her and continued to grasp and stroke her mane, until she curled up and shied away from him. When he tried it again, she just pushed his grabby little hooves away.

In immediate response, Morphin leapt up, eyes widening and his breath accelerating. He clutched one hoof with the other, looking at it and acting as if she had just attacked him.

“Don’t do that!” he practically screamed it. “You’re not allowed to touch me!” His face was contorting in anger and his cheeks flushed green as he began jumped up and down. “Nochangeling’s allowed to touch me!” In an arc of black, he slapped her hard in the face, knocking her off her haunches.

Pupa landed hard on her side, her head banging against the snow, knocking off her hat and getting it all in her mane. Her cheek stung horribly, her thick clothes meaning she could not sit back up to hold it, let alone stop the melting snow trickling down the back of her neck. The pain, discomfort and realization she had just been struck made her burst out crying, wailing for Cerci.

In an extraordinary matter of seconds, Cerci had witnessed what transpired and flew all the way down to the pond, landing beside her weeping Princess. Immediately, she held her and wiped off as much snow as she could. She kissed the stinging mark on her cheek where Morphin hit her. After making sure she was okay, her smouldering eyes fixated on the beastly little colt before her.

“You!” she growled at him, her voice simmering with rage. “What do you have to say for yourself, young Prince!?”

“She touched me!” He yelled, pointing at Pupa. “Nochangeling’s allowed to touch me!”

“Oh, that is it! I am going to—”

“Cerci!”

Silverfish came flying at them, landing between her and the Prince before Cerci did something she would seriously regret.

“I’ve got this handled.” She turned on the Prince and strictly ordered him, “Morphin, you apologize to your cousin, this instant!”

“NO! No, no, NO!” The tyke even had the audacity to spin around and buck his hind legs at her. “Make her apologize!”

“MORPHIN!”

Morphin practically froze solid. That scream did not come from his nanny, but from his mother.

They all turned in time to see Danauria land firm on the grass in front of them, glaring at her son with not maternal disappointment, but of the outrage a Queen would have for the disobedience of a lowly knave. Wasting not a second, her horn glowed and the Prince squealed as he was lifted up by the ear to his mother’s level.

“How dare you hit your little cousin!” she shouted, knocking the gall right out of him.

“B-But Mama, she touched—”

She smacked him across the face, twice as hard he did Pupa. The resulting ‘slap’ was enough to make the others wince (though Cerci was smirking inwardly at seeing the little brat get what was coming to him).

“Don’t you ‘Mama’ me! I don't care if she touched you! How many times have I told you?! You’re not allowed to hit anychangeling, especially a filly! Do you like it when I hit you?!” Danauria continued to berate him in his face before slapping him again, but much less harder. She brought him before his cousin who, by now, had finished crying and was looking at him through misty eyes. “Now, I won’t say it again: apologize!”

Morphin looked Pupa in the eye, now wiping tears and holding his stinging cheek, he sniveled pitifully, “I’m sorry.”

Danauria gave him to his nanny, ordering her, “Silverfish, take him back to my chambers so he can think about what he did. I’ll deal with him later.”

They watched the sympathetic Silverfish take her distraught colt away. Danauria waited until they were far enough away before she dropped her angry front and let out a pained sigh of frustration, holding her forehead in her hoof.

“Your Highness…?”

“I apologize for my son’s behaviour, Cerci.” Danauria did not look at her, instead focusing her attention on Pupa, holding her chin. “He just doesn’t like being touched, okay?”

“I will take the Princess back inside, in case she catches something.”

“Alright. We’ll try something later.”

Finally free to get away from Danauria and her entourage, Cerci carried Pupa through the gardens and back into the palace. She may have felt a bit bad for Danauria after witnessing what she had to deal with, but any longer and she would have died from the sheer amount of obnoxiousness.


“I’ll put you by the fireplace, Princess. The last thing we need is you getting sick.” Cerci said, hanging her extra layers of clothing up on the hooks in the entrance corridor, before proceeding to get the filly out of hers. “What’s wrong?”

The Princess was looking back at the entrance leading back into the garden with concern. Something was filling her with regret and it did not take an idiot to figure out what.

“Don’t you feel bad for your cousin; he got what was coming to him for raising a hoof to you.” She pulled through the five of Pupa’s twelve layers. “Let’s get you something to eat. The chefs have cooked you up some of your favourite ramen.”

The filly smiled and tried pulling off her socks by herself, her hunger dousing any lingering pity for her cousin.

‘That worked like a charm,’ Cerci thought to herself as she finished getting her out of her outdoor layers and carried her off to her dining room. She then thought bitterly, ‘But leave it to Danauria and her brat to ruin a pleasant day in the garden. If that’s how he treats now, ugh… I can’t bear to imagine what it’ll be like when they’re married.

Author's Note:

(A/N) Hi, I'm back, and using the author's notes for the first time (will probably go back to add them to previous chapters).

Anyway, sorry for the LONG delay, no excuses other than the Holidays (Happy New Year, by the way, and hope you had a merry Christmas), job searching and procrastination. I'm also working on a Littlest Pet Shop fic, 'Space Monkey'. So yeah, busy bee, but this fic is far from dad and don't worry, we're approaching the real drama of the story soon enough. Enjoy!

And also, yes, I am no longer Wormtail96. I am from now on a...MAGIC MAAAAAAN!!!

Chapter edited, as well as all future chapters by: Chaodiurn