The Princess Of Love
Princess Cadance trotted through the shadowy, moonlit halls of Canterlot Castle, her rapid, anxious hoofsteps muffled by the red carpet. She barely registered its pale arches and columns, nor did she acknowledge the bat-winged Lunar Guards standing and patrolling about. She could count on one pony to steer anyone in the right direction, and now she needed her advice more than ever. That was why she'd come to, and was now quietly knocking on, the polished gold door of Celestia's bedchamber. She desperately hoped she was still awake.
"Celestia? Can we talk?"
There was silence. Cadance's gaze drifted away from the door. What if Celestia was already asleep? Was she even in the room? She leaned in closer. She didn't hear anything. What would she do? The doctor would need her answer soon.
Then she heard a pair of thumps from the other side of the door, barely having time to breathe in relief before it lit up a soft amber and swung inward. Cadance blinked as the light from the cheerily-lit room spilled into the hallway. Standing there, tired-eyed and bereft of her royal jewelry but smiling nonetheless, was Princess Celestia.
"Oh, Cadance! It's nice to see you." She frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"Tia, we need to talk," Cadance said evenly.
"Certainly." Celestia stepped to the side and motioned with her hoof. "Come in."
Cadance followed her in, past the austere grandfather clock, past the silk-curtained and snowy-white canopy bed, past Philomena's golden cage, and to the crackling fireplace and circular, white marble table built into the floor directly in front of it. Celestia motioned her to have a seat on a plush, velvet cushion, large enough for her to lie on if she so wished. Cadance slowly eased herself onto it, relaxing slightly as the heat from the fire gently warmed her. Celestia settled onto the cushion on the opposite side.
"What's bothering you? Is your husband alright?"
"Oh, no, I mean, yes, I mean..." Cadance sighed. "It's about the changeling."
"Cadance, I understand. I know what happened on your wedding day hard on both you and your husband, and I won't expect you to get involved with this matter unless you've been asked."
"That's the problem, Tia. One of the doctors wants me down there."
Celestia blinked. "What? Why would they ask you to do that, after what you've been through? When you aren't even a doctor?"
"He needs to be fed, Celestia."
Celestia's eyes widened. Then she looked at Cadance sadly. "Oh... I see. Yes, love is hardly something we can feed him on a whim. As the Princess Of Love, you would be the one to ask. I know this is unexpected, but surely you understand the importance of this?"
Cadance's ears drooped. "I'm sorry." She tapped her hoof against the floor. "I don't know if I can do this." As she spoke, she slowly lowered her head until she was staring down at the table.
"I'm afraid you must," Celestia said quietly. Cadance looked up at her in surprise, frowning.
"He'll starve if you don't," Celestia continued.
"We're helping him? After what they've done to me? What they've done to us?" Cadance brought a hoof up to the table. "Celestia, he was right there with them!"
"Tell me, Cadance, why do you think he was? Why do you think he aided them in attacking us?"
"Look, they trapped me... they fooled my husband..."
"I have no intention of excusing their misdeeds. Whatever led them to invade Canterlot does not justify their actions. But tell me, do you think they were born evil? Do you think that from the moment they were brought into this world, they were irreversibly placed on a path that would lead them to inflict nothing but pain and misery on others?"
Cadance shuffled her hooves and sighed. "I... I don't know. I'm sorry, but I just don't know. We don't know anything about them, except what they've done."
"And would you allow the captured changeling to slowly die of starvation because his race might be irredeemably evil? His life is in your hooves. Are you certain in your conviction that he is unfit to live?"
"No, of course not!"
"Then you know what you must do."
Cadance's eyes closed, her ears drooped, and her head dropped, as if resisting the realization that was dawning on her. It only lasted a moment, however, before she looked at Celestia with a new-found determination.
"You're right, Celestia. It's my responsibility. I can't let my personal feelings get in the way of that. If I did, I wouldn't deserve my title."
Celestia smiled. "I knew you could do it." She gave the old clock a quick glance. "Now, I'm sorry, but I simply must get to bed. I've got a sun to raise tomorrow, after all. Just remember that if you need to talk, I'll listen. I don't expect you to go through it alone."
"Of course. Thank you, Celestia."
Cadance stood up, eased open the door with her magic, and walked out of the bedchamber. As late as it was, she wasn't going to her own bed yet. With new courage and head held high, she descended to the dungeon and marched into its medical facility. The room was devoid of staff save for Steady Hooves and Clean Bill, both of whom stopped writing notes and reading charts to face her.
"You needed my assistance?" Cadance asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for coming so soon," said Hooves.
"It's no trouble. I'm sure we can't afford to delay this." She paused. "Can... can I see him?"
"Certainly, Your Majesty. He's right here, I was just writing him up a chart." Hooves tapped the side of the changeling's gurney. "We had to put him to sleep for a procedure, but according to the anesthesiologist he should be awake soon. There's nothing to worry about. We have him restrained, and even when he wakes up he'll be too lightheaded to cause trouble."
Cadance nodded, then looked at the gurney. She raised one of her front hooves, but lowered it without taking a step. Then, before doubt could paralyze her, she strode over to the gurney and peered down at its occupant.
The changeling was every bit as black and bladed as any that had attacked Canterlot, but it wasn't charging and gnashing its teeth as they had. It lay there, breathing slowly and deeply in a magic-induced sleep, so tightly bound to its bed that it seemed unlikely it could've moved at all. Captured, sedated, and surrounded, it almost seemed to be an entirely different, harmless creature. Almost.
Its eyelids fluttered, and Cadance almost stepped back. Instead, though, she leaned closer. There was still a hint of nervousness in her, yes, but now anticipation had overwhelmed it. She would feed this changeling as was required, and then she would find out more about it for herself. Since it likely wouldn't be able to speak or listen very well immediately after having woken up, she decided to let it initiate the conversation. Slowly the changeling shifted its body and opened its eyelids, revealing unexpressive eyes of solid blue.
"Oh, is he awake?" asked Hooves. Cadance nodded absently. Eyes half-open, the changeling slowly turned his head to face her, slowly blinked a few times, and... smiled?
"Chrys... Chrysalis...."
Cadance raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Hooves at the other side of the table, apparently examining the changeling.
"Th—thanks...."
Cadance shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you mean."
The changeling paused for a moment, head drifting slightly to the side, but continued as if she hadn't said anything.
"Disguised yourself... back to Canterlot to save me... please, before the doc gets here...."
Cadance let out a small "oh!" as she realized what the changeling was talking about. He must have, in his half-conscious state, mistakenly concluded that she was Chrysalis in disguise, and he sounded relieved. Was this insectoid emotion vampire actually afraid?
She shook her head. "I'm not Chrysalis."
The changeling blinked and let out a cross between a groan and a "Huh?".
"I am Cadance, Princess of Equestria."
The changeling sat still for a moment, then turned his head away and let his eyes fall shut. He shook his head a few times before looking back at Cadance, shrinking away within the confines of his binds.
"You... why here? Revenge? Not afraid," he slurred.
"I'm not here to take revenge on you. I'm here to help you."
The conversation had to pause as Hooves, paying no mind to it, clamped some kind of instrument against the joint in one of the changeling's front legs. Once this was done, the changeling shifted himself to a more comfortable position and said, quietly but firmly, "Liar."
Cadance shook her head. "I'm telling you the truth. We know you need love to survive. I can help you with that."
The changeling narrowed his eyes. "And in return?"
"I don't want anything."
"I know what you're doing. Get away."
"Listen to me!" Cadance said. "I don't know how they did things wherever it is you came from, but here in Equestria, we don't feed prisoners because we want something from them. We feed them because it's the right thing to do."
The changeling seemed to roll his eyes, though it was difficult to tell. "For ponies, maybe. But for us? I was in Canterlot. I saw what happened. You must hate us." He said the last sentence as though commenting on the weather.
Cadance cringed slightly, though the changeling didn't seem to notice. She couldn't deny that some small part of her, some part she didn't want to admit she had, wanted to take out her revenge in the only way she could, on the specimen before her. He was injured and defenseless, though, and he needed her help. To brutalize him when he was in such a state would make her as bad as Queen Chrysalis.
"I promise you, I'm not doing this because I want something from you. Equestria is not doing this because it wants something from you. I will not use this against you. Nobody else will use this against you. If they do, tell them it's against my wishes." She looked across the table at Steady Hooves.
"I'd like to start now. Is he ready?"
Hooves removed the clamp from the changeling's joint and glanced at the attached gauge, ignoring the irritated look he shot her. "He's ready, Your Majesty. I'll let you take it from here." She trotted away from the table, leaving him and Cadance alone with each other. Cadance took a breath.
"I can't promise this will work, but I've come here to give you some food, and I'll do my best." With that, she took a step away from the table, lowered her head, and channeled energy into her horn.
Something was wrong. There was no love flowing. She took a breath and clenched her teeth, then forced even more magical power into her horn, bathing the entire room in a soft, pink glow. She still felt no connection.
She stepped back and looked down at the changeling, who was looking up at her in irritation. She needed another to form the link. But how? Her power created love between two ponies. How could she use it to force anyone to love such a beast?
Cadance shook her head. "It's just not working. I... I'll figure something out as soon as I can. I know you're hungry, but I stand by my word. I won't let you starve, and I'll come back once I know what to do."
The changeling's gaze had turned away from Cadance and was locked firmly ahead, his expression inscrutable. He was either impassive or doing a rather impressive job of acting it. Surely he must have felt something, at the very least disappointment. She took a breath.
"I'm... sorry."
His head twitched her way, but he gave her no further acknowledgement. Briskly, she turned away. She'd done all she reasonably could for now. She'd tried her best to feed him and apologized for her failure. She would have to leave, get some sleep, and then devise a plan to give him what he needed. She was leaving the ward when she saw Clean Bill arrive, towing a cart carrying a covered tin tray. Judging by the anticipation on her face, she'd overheard the conversation.
"Best of luck, Your Majesty. We'll do what we have to in the meantime." She glanced over her shoulder at the tray.
"Thank you, Ms. Bill. Please, ensure he's properly cared for."
Clean Bill gave a brief bow in acknowledgment, and Cadance stepped aside to let her pull the tray in front of the changeling's gurney.
"Your dinner, sir," she said tersely, then lifted the lid off of the tray. Cadance could see three golden-brown, arrowhead-shaped pieces of meat which, from the heads, she could discern were fish. The unappetizing sight was complemented by the off-putting smell of cooked meat, but she didn't let her disgust show as she trotted out of the room. That much would be expected of any who would dine with gryphon dignitaries.
Pincer seethed beneath his uninterested exterior. He'd been expecting these ponies to carry out some cruelty on him in revenge. That pink princess — Chrysalis flay her — held out love to him so closely he could nearly taste it, only to yank it away at the last second. No doubt she'd be laughing about it as soon as he was out of earshot. He would've given anything for the strength and cleverness of his queen just to have the chance to entomb Cadance in the crystal cave again.
"Your dinner, sir."
A tray was lifted, and he was greeted by the rich, savory smell and sight of roasted fish. He had never in his life had cooked fish before. They only ever served it raw at The Hive, and during his infiltrations he had always been disguised as a pony, so he couldn't have bought it without arousing suspicion. Knowing that he would have his first-ever opportunity to eat cooked meat pushed his situation out of his mind for the first time since his capture. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to strain against his bindings to reach it.
"I'm going to adjust your straps now so you can eat. Don't try anything — there's a guard posted outside the door."
So focused was Pincer on the meal before him that the thought of misbehaving had scarcely entered his mind. He couldn't even if he'd wanted to; the tranquilizing spell had not yet entirely worn off. Any plan he tried to put together seemed to float away from his conscious in the early stages and his muscles felt as though they had gelatinized.
The strap over his front legs slid back a bit, but the one over his back legs stayed taut. This left him able to move his front legs enough to grab one of the fish between his hooves and slowly and shakily bring it to his mouth. He bit a modest chunk of it off.
So poor was the quality of his typical meal that the normally unremarkable hospital food proved better than he'd hoped. When the flavor hit his tongue, he considered how quickly he could devour it and still pass it off as his kind's normal eating habits. For a species that didn't eat meat, ponies sure knew how to cook it. He'd eaten pony food before on his infiltration missions, and while he'd enjoyed it, he felt no real hunger for it and his satisfaction wore off as soon as he could no longer taste it. This was different; this was something he hungered for It was filling and satisfying, and quite tasty to boot. It was rich, it was juicy, it was tender, and it was certainly better than the raw kills he unceremoniously snapped up back at the Hive. He realized, and the irony was not lost on him, that this was unarguably the best meal of his life.
Soon he was finished, his tray was towed away, and with the supervision of a royal guard, his straps were tightened again. Once this was done, Bill trotted somewhere to his left, and he heard the sound of running water. As he nervously waited for whatever was next in store for him, Hooves took the time to walk up and speak to him.
"It's going to be lights-out soon. We won't be here overnight, but we'll have a buzzer for you to call the night nurses if you need anything. Tomorrow morning we'll drop by with some books so that you have a way to pass the time. Do you have any preference for reading material?"
Pincer blinked, too surprised to stay angry. "What? I... anything. Anything's fine."
Hooves nodded. "Okay. Now there's one more thing we need to take care of before lights-out. Clean Bill will be giving you a sponge bath."
The sound of running water tapered off, and the mutinous thoughts that dinner had pushed out of his mind returned. "No. Don't touch me. I don't need a bath."
Hooves shook her head. "It's standard procedure. All of our patients get daily baths for sanitation purposes. It won't take more than a few minutes."
"You're not doing this!"
"We will tranquilize you again if it proves necessary."
Pincer grimaced, realizing that in his thrashing and struggling against his sedation, he'd given them that threat to hold over him. Knowing he would have to go through this one way or another, he decided he'd at least prefer to be awake and know what they were doing.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Bill placing a foamy sponge spilling white suds on a nearby table. Before he could react, she and Hooves produced another strap from somewhere nearby and used it to fasten down his head, just behind his horn. He opened his mouth to protest, but Hooves cut him off.
"To make sure you don't try to bite Ms. Bill," she said matter-of-factly before walking away.
As promised, it didn't take long. Bill rubbed him with the sponge briskly and mechanically, as though scrubbing a floor. Whenever she finished with one part of his body, she splashed it with water and rubbed it dry with a second sponge. At one point a pair of pegasus guards came in to release his straps, turn him over, and re-secure him so that Bill could wash his underside. They allowed him enough movement to turn his head to the side when they noticed that lying on his back was bending his fin.
Before he knew it, he'd been turned over again one last time by the guards and the sponge was being carried away. As they were leaving, Clean Bill was setting a buzzer on the table by his gurney, close enough that he could reach it despite his restraints. As she began to leave, she stopped, her hoof hovering over the light switch.
"Good night, sir," she said simply as she flicked the switch, plunging the room into darkness.
Pincer did not fall asleep quickly or easily; for the first time since his capture, he was alone with his thoughts, and there were plenty to keep him occupied. Here he was, having expected nothing but nonstop tortures, hatred, and complete disregard for his wellbeing at the hooves of the ponies. Instead, what had they done? They'd put braces on his legs. They'd fed him. They'd done their best to make sure he was comfortable. An outsider, an insect, one who fed on them. It must have been a trick, though. Surely it was a trick. They wouldn't treat him so well after what happened at Canterlot just because they cared about him. Cadance's failed attempt to feed him proved that much. What were they waiting for, then? When, exactly, would the trap spring?
It was as he was contemplating this that slowly, finally, he drifted off.
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Another good chapter, though I'm starting to get the feeling that the ponies' decisions come almost too convienently, and it somewhat detracts from it feeling as organic as it could be. Otherwise looking forward to more.
Nah, don't worry about it.
The truly dedicated readers will keep reading this no matter how many delays there are.
That's fine, don't worry about that.
it was worth the wait.
The delay was large, though I can't blame you if anything happened IRL
"He needs fed, Celestia."
I think it needs to be "He needs to be fed" But other then that. Pretty good as usual.
So long it does not take this long for the next.
But anyway cool story so far and keep up the good work.
I'm afraid my enjoyment of the chapter was stillborn after that "polished gold door of her sister's bedchamber" bit. Cadence can't be more than a couple centuries old at most.
2140144 She isn't; she has the age of any ordinary pony. She was a teenaged filly when she took care of Twilight, and both grew at the same rate.
What 2139438 said. It seems you're pushing how good, pure, merciful, forgiving, etc. the ponies are a little too much.
And by a little I mean a lot.
2139957 Nope. this is correct. it's not how most people usually speak but it is a proper part of speech.
2140144 D'oh! Fixed.
This is a great story. I'm loving every chapter. I guess with the life the changeling had, there was no such thing as stuff like mercy or compassion. I feel sorry for the changeling, since he is depressing himself by thinking that the ponies are going to torture him. Also, aren't you the guy who wrote TCB: Not Alone? That is one of my top favorite stories of all time, and its no wonder you are writing another awesome fic.
2140675
Can you elaborate on this point? What gave you that impression?
2141764
I can't just pick out a few lines, it just seems to me that you're really pushing how nice ponies are. I'm not saying to make them jerks or anything. You are just making a point about how good the ponies are the way you write the dialogue and Pincer's prose.
2141873 I know you're trying to be specific here but, uh, I can't really work with that
Like, what in Pincer's prose gives you the impression?
2142080 I think it basically comes down to "We need more ponies with Cadence's mindset." Trepidation, mistrust, maybe a drop or two of malice. Things like that.
Personally, I don't really have any problems with the personification of the characters right now. It looks like they're following basic handling procedures for dangerous prisoners and we don't really get an inside look at any of them so we don't know how they're reacting to the situation.
2142626 I think Starman Ghost (and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Author...) is aiming more for a one on one story between Pincer and Cadence, with Clean Bill and Steady Hooves more as Secondary Characters?
Yeah... Celestia, there is no way in Tartarus Cadacne can do what you ask of her. Not a chance. Good chapter, here. I loved Pincer's enthusiasm about the fish. I like a good fish myself. Hmm... *Wanders off to eat* ;)
Do go on...
2141873 2142626 Ah.
I've done my best not to swing the ponies too far into the side of purely pure pureness. Hopefully I've made it clear that most of them are only treating him decently because Celestia's ordered them to. Their patience and care with him is less because they forgive him than it is because they don't want to lose their jobs. That aside, I'd also like to mention that Pincer's not getting much more than the bare minimum of what a POW should receive. Their alleged perfectly pure pureness has so far just extended to giving him decent meals and proper medical treatment.
The bit about not passing Pincer's medical data onto the Guard seems weird to me. If nothing else, Royal Guard medics are going to need it if they find another injured Changeling that needs treatment to stabilize before he or she can be moved to the hospital. Otherwise you get:
"Is that squishy green bit there supposed to be in or out?"
"Heck if I know. Put a bandage on it and pray to Faust."
Ooh. This premise sounds really interesting.
More updates sir (imagine a begger holding a cup)
Reading this,
'The strap over his front legs was slid back a bit, with the one over his back legs left alone. This left him able to move his front legs enough to grab one of the fish between his hooves and slowly and shakily bring it to his mouth. He bit a modest chunk of it off.'
when suddenly....
Rainbow: It needs to be about %20 coo... *vomit*
Also, two mistakes here. Find them.
' He'r power created love between two people. That was all it could do, and she could never use it for such purposes.'
"What's bothering you? Is your husband alright? Has something happened in the Crystal Empire?"
"Oh, no, I mean, yes, I mean..." Cadance sighed. "It's about the changeling."
Unless 'Tia is asking if the Crystal Empire just appeared early, this does not make sense.
Its the reason for the epic opening Scene of Season 3 that the Crystal Empire is back.at last and seems to be happening months after the wedding.
Wow... this chapter is so... sad. I mean, it's just the way he misinterprets everything, and makes himself feel bad when he shouldn't be. This is like something out of a psychiatric ward. Powerful.
Why are the ponies reasonably willing to accept changelings and give them decent treatment, and yet be fine killing fish?
2861230
Griffin dignitaries need lunch too.
2861230
I realise this is an old comment, but I'm going to say this anyway.
There's one episode, perhaps in season 1, where Fluttershy brings dead fish to some of her animals.
If Fluttershy can murder a few fish (or at least buy them and carry them in her mouth), surely the pony race in general should be rather comfortable with it.
Edit: I realise I may have misunderstood your message. Just ignore me.
I'm sorry, I just cannot keep reading this. The conflict driving this story is revoltingly one dimensional. I strongly believe there is no right side in any war, and any statements to the contrary are propaganda. Moreover, the illusion that such conventions of war are actually followed irks and dismays me.
At least they're not that spiteful
Lend a piece of light
to this blackened soul;
if you do not,
then forever regret and despair in the darkness,
wanting of santuary or kindness, likeness of which you never gave.
We shall read on.
3076785
Maybe the ponies just don't consider fish as sentient animals?
3689093 Yes, but this is fictional, and to have it be otherwise would be to distort the canonical material to an unidentifiable degree.
2268938 ccwatershed.org/media/photologue/photos/oliver.jpg
2140744
That's actually debatable (and debated). The so-called "needs done" construct originates from the Appalachian regions of the USA, and is not often found elsewhere.
There's a rather interesting and informative discussion of it here.
Personally, I hate it. It just sounds wrong to me, and I find myself cringing and automatically correcting it whenever I hear or read it.
3689093 according to John Ringo, the conventions of war are essentially "enforced" by threats of reprisals: "if you torture our prisoners we will torture yours". UN "sanctions" are worthless.
he also adds that Germany was the first country to sign the Geneva convention rules...and we know how well THOSE worked.
for. It
Truly his own fault for not informing them how they feed on love. It would be easy to tell them how to help him seppuku...