The colour of your blood
White on Black
Ch.12 “The colour of your blood.”
Twilight lay in her bed. From down the hall she could hear Applejack and Rainbow Dash snoring, but it wasn’t the noise of her friends that kept her awake.
With a slight groan, she crawled out of bed and towards the balcony. It was a clear, starry night; above hung the moon, its new shape without the outline of the mare in the moon still strangely unfamiliar. Twilight had no appreciation for the night sky, since her mind was occupied by thoughts of yesterday's conversation.
Chrysalis hadn’t elaborated what had happened after her confession, but it was obvious that this hadn’t been the last thing that happened between the two immortals. What she had revealed however was the fact, that even now she was still feeding on Celestia’s energy, keeping the hive mind intact.
It was no permanent solution, at best it would only last two or three months before Celestia grew too weak for Chrysalis to continue feeding on her, but Celestia had assured her that she had sent out two people whom she trusted, one of them her own sister, to look for a solution to this problem.
In her mind however Twilight had immediately started to analyze the situation. Her main field of study may have been friendship, but under Celestia’s tutelage she had also learned to spot a political maneuver when she saw one. A skill she had to use far too often as the protege of one the most powerful beings in Equestria.
A wedding as sudden as this one would have been suspicious even under normal circumstances, but with this new information, it all started to make sense. Celestia tried to change the public’s opinion of changelings, most probably to let a small fraction of them feed on the people’s love without having to rely on deception. It all was a ploy to buy time for whatever plan she and Luna were executing.
...Maybe not all of it. The short peek into her mind had revealed the genuine nature of Celestia’s feelings. Whatever had happened between her and Chrysalis had changed her feelings for the black queen, and only the slightest sliver of pity had remained in her mind, replaced by another feeling altogether.
But still... the greatest day in a couple’s life, and it all was just a ruse for the public? That didn’t sound right...
Twilight went back inside and let herself drop onto the bed, it didn’t seem like she would be granted any sleep tonight.
---
Many words could be used to describe the Blueblood estate; modest wasn’t one of them. Lying amidst the finest part of Canterlot, it was dwarfed in size only by the royal palace itself. A large park surrounded it on all sides, and a small army of gardeners and landscape planners took care to keep it in a pristine state at all times. Even a maze, not unlike the one found in the palace gardens, could be found.
Once you had manage to pass by the guards that watched the iron front gate, you entered the boulevard that led up to the house. Neatly trimmed hedges in the form of the house owner lined the way, just in case you had forgotten who it was that lived in this miniature version of Canterlot Castle. And even if you somehow managed to miss the hundreds of likenesses, there was still the marble statue on the fountain in front of the house, to remind you. Not to forget the flowers arranged into a portrayal, and the glass mosaics in the windows. From every available surface the face of prince Blueblood stared at you.
Rarity felt like she had just walked into her worst nightmare.
She had used all her feminine charm to get past the gate guards, and after that hadn’t worked, she had bribed them to let her pass. Now she stood in front of the door, pranced nervously in place, and couldn’t bring herself to pull on the doorbell.
“Come on Rarity, you already are spending too much time on this little side project, and it just wouldn’t do if I had to rush the wedding dresses,” she chided herself. Applejack’s half hidden lecture hadn’t missed it’s mark.
Daintily she reached for the rope of the doorbell and pulled. Somewhere from inside the melodic chime of a bronze bell could be heard, as it echoed through the hallways.
A white coated earth stallion with a greased mane and mustache opened the door. His black vest accentuated his straight posture.
“Hmmgood evening milady. Who may I introduce?” the butler asked in a heavily accented mumble.
As soon as the door had opened, all signs of nervousness had vanished from Rarity’s pose, as she had fallen into the well studied role of the sophisticated lady.
“Rarity, of Rarity’s boutique. I’m here on recommendation of Fancy Pants,” she replied, handing a silver lined business card to the butler.
“HmmIf I may offer the lady some tea, while I see if milord is available,” the white stallion said, opening the door for her. He led her into a small waiting room. Rarity chuckled slightly as she realized that she just subconsciously had compared the waiting room to the dining hall she had spent the last few evenings in, actually the waiting room was probably about the size of Carousel boutique.
After calling for a maid, which offered Rarity a selection of drinks, the butler left to look for his master. While Rarity nipped on her orange tea, she pondered what she would do if the next step of her plan failed. It all depended on whether Prince Blueblood was willing to meet her. Fancy Pants word carried a lot of weight, but Rarity had embarrassed the prince in front of a large crowd, and from what his ‘aunt’ had told her about him, he wasn’t one to easily forget a grudge.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand the waiting anymore, the butler returned.
“The master will now receive you,” he said. It took every ounce of will that Rarity could master, for her not to shout out giddily like a little school filly.
“You still have to convince him,” she reminded herself mentally.
The butler, whose name she still didn’t know, lead her through a series of corridors. Wherever she turned, there would be some kind of armor, a portrayal of the prince, or a piece of ancient pottery, basically the aristocrats equivalent to kitschy souvenirs. One thing however seemed to be missing from the otherwise stereotypical estate.
“Are there no family portraits?” Rarity asked her silent guide.
“Hmmno, the master had everything that belonged to his parents destroyed after the death of his father,” the butler explained the lack of anything that pointed towards Blueblood having a family.
“That’s horrible!” The words had escaped from Rarity’s lips before she could even think about the consequences.
“Oh no, it’s a time honored tradition among the Blueblood family. Hmmyes, I still remember how the masters Grandfather burned all of his mother’s clothes... Real shame though that he didn’t wait for her to change out of them...” the butler continued his story, paying no attention to the white fashionista which had stopped in her track, to stare at him with wide eyes, her jaw hanging ajar.
Rarity shook off her shock, and quickly galloped after the butler who was still rambling about the Blueblood’s long and proud tradition to expedite the inheritance process, the direct way. Just as he told her about “the masters great great great grandfather” and “the amazing things she could do with a cooking knife,” they reached a heavy paneled double door.
The butler knocked politely, and announced, “It’s lady Rarity milord.”
“Send her in,” a voice came from inside. The boorish, aloof tone made Rarity grit her teeth.
The butler opened the door for Rarity and she walked in.
Rarity left the room again and slammed the door shut behind her.
“NO. No, no, no, nonononono...” she repeated growing more and more hysteric with each repetition while prancing up and down.
Blueblood opened the door and looked at the hysteric mare confusedly. He shot the other Blueblood behind the desk a glance, but Blueblood only shrugged.
---
Spike had lost all orientation. The only hint that he even was moving at all, was the gently swaying of the changeling that was carrying him.
At first the sounds of the changeling city had still reached the thick hood over his head, but before long the noise had died down. Now there was only the sound of changling paws on stone.
The swaying stopped. Spike was dropped on the floor unceremoniously, but before he could even complain, two changelings grabbed him, and helped him back to his feet. He stumbled forward a few steps, further motivated by the constant prodding of changeling hooves in his back.
Suddenly his claws met only thing air and he would’ve fallen, if not for someone grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. A moment later he felt the rough cloth gliding over his skin. He closed his eyes, but just a second too late.
Blinking, and rubbing his eyes, he tried to make out his surroundings.
Slowly the blinding white turned to green, and alien looking shapes peeled themselves from the background.
“Wow,” Spike mouthed wordlessly, as his eyes fell on the chamber on which’s edge he was standing. Just before him the ground suddenly fell off, where apparently the ceiling of the room below had been ripped out, to create a huge hall.
His expression of awe however wasn’t directed at the rooms dimensions, but at what occupied every available place on both the floor and the walls.
Row upon of cauldron like constructs filled the room, each made from a frame of black changeling goo, and thin green membranes. Through the green glowing liquid that filled those “cauldrons” Spike could make out the shape of eggs, at least a dozen in each tank.
In the middle of the room, looking strangely out of place, stood a large glass cube, filled to the brim with the same green liquid which filled the vats, but devoid of any eggs.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Spike whipped around on his heels, to face Chrysalis who was standing a few steps behind him. She was looking past him at the changelings who flitted hither and fro between the tanks, engaged in task that Spike couldn’t make out.
Spike didn’t respond, he was busy staring at the queen of the changelings slackjawed. Only out of the corner of his eyes he noticed his four changeling friends, bowing to their queen. Quickly he copied their gesture of submission.
When he raised his head again, Chrysalis had her eyes fixed on him, looking slightly amused.
“If you really want to join the hive, it’s about time that you learned something about what it means to do that,” she said, unfolding her insect like wings.
Two of his friends walked up to him and offered them a paw each. Together the four of them descended to the floor, Chrysalis very gracefully, and Spike and his living parachute a little unsteadily.
As his feet touched the ground, Spike could feel warmth emanating from the black chitinous floor.
Spike walked closer to one of the tanks; it was at least as high as a pony, and maybe two meters in diameter. If each of the cauldrons was filled, there would be hundreds of eggs in this room.
As if Chrysalis had read his thoughts, she said, “It might seem like these are a lot of eggs, but those are all the the newborn from the complete Canterlot hive.”
“Don’t their parents want to see them?” Spike asked. Something in his voice made Chrysalis turn towards him.
“Kid’s should always be able to meet their parents!” he said firmly, and just for the flicker of a second, Chrysalis saw him as what he was: A dragon, a creature that struck fear into most living beings, and which had ruled the lands in the times before the rise of ponykind.
The two of them stared at each other, neither saying anything, but the moment passed, and Spike, now back to just being a slightly chubby baby dragon, looked away, blushing slightly.
“They are. We take care of the eggs together,” she said, pointing at the changelings that busily walked between the vats.
“Once they have hatched, they are raised by their parents,” she continued her explanation. She gestured for him to follow as she made her way through the row of eggs.
“Sounds complicated,” Spike said, still glad that he hadn’t angered the powerful immortal. His changeling friends had told him that Chrysalis apparently had a change of heart, but that didn’t make her any less scary.
“Sadly it’s a necessity,” Chrysalis replied, turning towards him again. Behind her stood the large glass cube. From up close, Spike could make out the form of a door, which had been sealed.
“This,” she said, motioning towards the tank, “is changeling nectar...”
“You mean as in honey?” Spike interrupted. This earned him an angry glare from Chrysalis causing him to shut his mouth. Chrysalis sighed.
“Yes, it isn’t unlike honey. It contains a mixture of nutrients and bacteria that the growing changelings need, but there is more to it than just that.” Spike had to admit that, if nothing else, the changeling queen seemed to be very adapt at monologuing. She had captured his interest in a way, that Twilight had never been able to induce, whenever she rambled about science or magic.
“The one thing that makes it so valuable to us changelings, is love,” she explained.
“Love?” Spike asked.
“Yes, love, Condensed love. It’s the first meal for a changeling, and it allows them the first glimpse into the hive mind. But for you, it’s important for an entirely different reason.” she said, flying up to the edge of the vat and filling a glass vial with the glowing fluid before flying back down to him.
“For you this represents a choice, your first step in becoming a changeling. Spike the dragon, do you still want to join the swarm?” she asked, handing him the vial.
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Got a little mix-up there.
Do you have an editor? There's lots of little mistakes all over the place.
Spike should ask Twillight about this first.
And , a dragon changeling ? That would be so awesome !
Did she have whip?
Hmm interesting but dunno if accepting by Spike that offer wouldn't be to OOC
And Twilight thought that Spike had been slightly troublesome before. Now, he might have shapeshifting powers, or just be able to talk with Changelings around the world.
Also:
Not sure if joking, or serious.
Well spike You better check this in with Twilight before going through unless of course you want to have an international incident and Twilight pissed at both you and chrychry.
Great chapter! Not confusing at all, until that last... weird author's note...
There's a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes in this chapter, and we've still not gotten any real motivation from Spike to make this choice. Why would he want to join the Hive in the first place? Does it have something to do with dragon greed powers? Does he want to turn into a pony? Because I don't see how that couldn't be arranged as it is: Twilight could turn a rock into a hat before. She's done crazier things than that.
can't wait for you to continue!
this seems so random and interesting!!
it would be a really interesting idea for a book you know, just make in not MLP lol! anyways great job! 
Is this supposed to be row upon row?
Rarity: "Abort ABORT!"
8873683
NOW THERE'S TWO OF THEM! TWO! THAT'S TWO TOO MANY!