Short stories about ponies and whatnot

by shutaro

Your choice

Chrysalis closed the doors of the suite she had been granted while she was in Canterlot Castle. While none of her honor guard were allowed inside city limits she had been given a sizeable amount of luxury. She was technically still the leader of an enemy of Equestria, after all. The princesses had promised that no surveillance spells would be placed here.

Even the four guards that accompanied her throughout the day had been examples of chivalry, protecting her from the occasional thrown fruit and discouraging those who would otherwise attack her.

Chrysalis threw herself onto the bed and stretched like a cat, buzzing her wings. Through the windows she had a marvelous view of Canterlot and the sun stood high in a blue sky. Celestia was no slacker when it came to impressing her ponies.

She was about to start a nap when a little cough broke her from her thoughts.

There was a pony in the room and she hadn’t noticed for several minutes!

A spy? An assassin? Were Celestia and Luna finally showing their true colors?

“Greetings your majesty. I do apologize for startling you, but I am here on behalf of Princess Celestia.”

A white mare lifted herself from the sofa that was sitting opposite to the main window. She had probably been marveling at the view too.

Chrysalis recognized the pony: One of her replacement-bridesmaids. One of the gang that had tried to get hold of the Elements of Harmony during her failed attack. But the name escaped her.

“My name is Rarity”, the pony nodded but did not curtsey, “I specialize in designing and making clothing. The Princesses asked me to provide you with a suitable dress for the signing of the peace treaty.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, the ceremony. I guess I will have to look the part”, Chrysalis sighed, but couldn’t suppress her curiosity. “And what brings me the honor of being cared for by one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony?”

“No honor”, the unicorn replied, “I was simply the only dressmaker that applied for the job. I can hardly imagine why, it’s a privilege to work with royalty after all. Let’s take your measurements first.”

Without waiting for Chrysalis, Rarity started to do just that and wrote a few numbers down in the notepad that levitated beside her. For a while only the zipping measuring tape and the occasional request were heard.

“Please lift your head as high as … thank you.”

“Now your right foreleg, please, now the left, same with the back, thanks.”

The changeling queen played along.

“Wonderful, I’m all set, your majesty. Your measurements are quite similar to Princess Celestia. Well, do you have anything in mind? I tried to read up on changelings but your kind is ever so elusive. Not so much as a single paper pattern in all the royal archives.”

“No wonder. My warriors only dress for fighting, workers and nurses dress for .. work, I suppose, and drones don’t dress at all. Lazy bums. The only ones who ever actually use clothing like you ponies are the scouts and they dress in pony-style of course.”

Rarity rubbed a hoof on her forehead. “I see. But couldn’t you just change into whatever you want to wear at the occasion?”

Chrysalis chuckled. “Of course I could. And it would just crumble in the anti-magic field Luna will cast over the court. And who’s to blame for that? Stupid dragons and their enchanted papers. No, the dress has to be real needlework. You can use magic to create it, but anything that has even one spark of magic left will go poof!”, Chrysalis flared her insect-like wings, “in that court. And you don’t want to know how a shapechanger looks if you pull out all the magic. Let’s just say, it’s not pretty.”

Rarity sighed “Oh well, back to square one. Any suggestions I might draw from?”

Bright green flames licked over the changeling. A gossamer cloth covered her legs, the holes shimmering through, her wings were whole and a net-like black fabric covered both her neck and most of her body.

Rarity gasped as she saw the fine weave that covered Chrysalis’ legs. “Oh, what a fine silk! Like spiderwebs, even finer than the weave from silkworms! May … may I touch it?”

Chrysalis had not expected this kind of reaction. This pony was interested in how a changeling would dress? Even, how the only changeling that could think about how to dress, would dress?

Crazy ponies.

But she nodded her agreement and let the mare touch the fine web. She didn’t pay much attention to the prattle but rather enjoyed the fine trickle of emotion that found it’s way from the pony to her. No love, but a bit of real respect and admiration were still better than the months old reserves of second-, third- or even more-hand love she had left to feed on.

After a while Rarity came back from her world of inspiration.

“What a material! Oh, what dresses I could design with it!”

She took a deep breath.

“But back to the matter at hoof. Please could you stand here under the light, darling.”

Chrysalis buzzed her wings and flew over to the main window.

The mare walked a few steps away, then asked the changeling-queen to turn that way or the other.

“I can replicate most of the dress, even if it will not be such fine quality. Not much I can do about the wings, though. Without magic, my hoofs are tied. If we had more time I could consult with a glassblower I know, but that would totally ruin your mobility.”

“Oh, don’t bother. I’ll fix those myself once I get some fresh emotions. Or I might do it right now.”

Rarity’s eyes went wide as the holes in Chrysalis wings closed on their own.

“Most amazing. But still, don’t you think that going ‘all black’ is a little glum?”

“No, I think black is a fine choice for any changeling. It’s what we are.” the changeling replied matter-of-factly.

For a few minutes silence ruled in the room, except for the scratching of Rarity’s pencil in her notepad.

Chrysalis was starting to follow her own thoughts again when the pony started talking.

“So there’s no changeling nobility? No high-society? No celebrities?”

“Except for me? No, the hive is pretty much self-regulating and self-organizing.”

Chrysalis obviously had no practice in small-talk, but Rarity pressed on.

“Isn’t that pretty … lonely? What do you do all day if there is nopo- no changeling to talk to?”

“Well, there are a few things to take care of and there is the business with the drones, of course, but I’d rather not talk about it. They are completely borisch and tasteless.”

“Oh yes, I know the kind. Why, I myself met this simpleton of a prince last year at a gala. A complete boor.”

“No, you don’t understand, dear. Once the drones have … fulfilled their purpose, I kill them. They really taste terrible.”

Rarity looked up from her notepad.

-- TIMELIMIT--

For the first time in quite a while Rarity noticed the fangs that jutted from Chrysalis’ muzzle, the freshly mended insect-wings, the alien way her eyes moved, the rigid carapace that covered the creature.

What stood there in the light of Celestia’s heavenly orb was not a pony from another country. That was no pony at all. It talked about killing another, like a pony would talk about the weather.

And she had just called her “dear”.

Oh my!

“Oh. Ahem. Well, that ... there is still your dress to finish.”

Again silence fell over the room. Rarity concentrated completely on the dress, pushing Chrysalis’ presence from her mind. The faster the task was complete the faster she could leave this room.

“You might be right, now that I think about it. I almost never leave the hive. Just the workers, the nurses, the soldiers and the drones. All of them too limited to do more than what they were bred for.

The only one to talk to is the hivemind, but it’s so boring. It would never talk about dresses, not even the weather. Unless it was a hailstorm or a draught that threatened the hive. But it wouldn’t comment on a blue sky or the way a cloud looked funny. It’s always ‘Do that, be there’, ‘More eggs’, ‘Workers to sector 12’, ‘Residue spill in level 3’. A complete slavedriver.”

Rarity could feel the sentence forming.

It was a crazy idea.

Somehow a bit of Discord must have stayed behind and waited for this very moment, to spit at her from his stone prison. In morbid curiosity she wondered what kind of sound her head would make once it hit the marble floor.

“Too bad you can’t bite the hivemind’s head off.”

She didn’t dare raise her head, she didn’t want to see two fangs coming for her throat.

Or a black death on translucent wings, jumping over from the window to break her skull under hole-filled hoofs.

Laughter filled the room. As friendly as any pony, the changeling laughed loud and clear, without sneer or scorn. Rarity looked up as tears of laughter started to roll over the black face.

Two thoughts fought in the pony’s mind.

Amazing, changelings can cry. and Laughter? But I’m with the Element of Generosity!

And then she started to laugh too.

She wasn’t sure how long they laughed together. They stopped a few times, but then looked at each other and started again.

Then a guard knocked on the door to remind Chrysalis of the next round of negotiations.

The strange dress vanished in the flash of green, magical fire it had come from, the changeling left with the group of guards, the door closed.

If her notebook hadn’t been filled with drawings and ideas for the dress, Rarity might have written it off as a silly, but slightly scary, daydream.

She left the room, went down the corridor and almost ran into one of the guards.

Chrysalis turned around.

“Rarity, what do you think about green? Would my dress look good in green?”

Rarity smiled.

“Yes, green is so you color.”

Author's Note:

Queen Chrysalis meets Rarity in Canterlot

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The Prompt: Green is your color.