She Who Holds The Crown

The state of the hive only got worse over the following days. Changelings began to wonder why they hadn't seen their queen, some vocally, and there was a high level of unrest between various denizens of the hive, from high elites to lowly drones. Theories and ideas were spun, some wildly inaccurate and others scarily close to what might have been the truth.

Through it all, Chrysalis was a silent bystander. He walked through the hive, he avoided conversing with others for fear of letting anything slip, he fed sparingly. A quick excursion to a nearby forest, he drained a doe of its love until it felt tired, then left it to sleep with its young. The image of the family sleeping so contently stayed in Chrysalis' mind for a little while, a momentary escape from the craziness of home, but he soon shrugged it off.

He shouldn't admire the prey, nor their simplistic, benevolent way of life.

Many questions had gripped him in the last few days, and they were only exasperated by the fact that he now knew what Clavus' crown could do to him, what it made him... Fears of being called a liar had been lessened once he had realised that he truly looked a queen when he wore it, that he became mentally linked with the entire hive and took place at the head of it. There would be little doubt amongst changelings that he was in charge, the new queen.

But what then? Would they be happy about the change? Surely not, there would be many that rejected his rule, perhaps some that accused him of scheming or otherwise cheating his way to the top. How else would a drone like any other achieve such status?

He hadn't worn the crown again since, but kept it with him always. He wore saddlebags that it was stashed away deeply in, worried to leave it in his room. He'd considered burying it in the forest, but there was the possibility that it would be found by another there, or that it would be needed in future only for him to forget where it was hidden.

It was a dilemma that pulled his mind in two directions, one that brought a growl to his lips and made his wing buzz in irritation. He hadn't wanted such responsibility thrusted onto him, he'd do anything to be rid of it.

But Chrysalis had no idea how the linking worked. Would he have to die in order for another changeling to become linked? And if so, not only was that not an option—he rather enjoyed living—but there was also the worry if which changeling the crown might become linked with following his death. What if they were evil and powerhungry, and their actions plunged the hive into darkness? Would it be Chrysalis' fault?

Part of him knew that it would, that no matter what, he was fated to keep this crown. To use it, perhaps. He walked through the forest in the glow of dusk, silence broken occasionally by the chime of cicadas or the sound of frogs by a nearby pond. Chrysalis decided that a drink wouldn't hurt, so he followed the glow of the setting sun until he found that it rippled against the water before him.

Stooping down, Chrysalis took a long drink. The water was warm, almost unpleasantly so, but it soothed his body nonetheless, relaxing him until he sat on his haunches, looking down at his reflection.

Then, an idea occurred to him. He focussed, focussed hard, attempting to recreate the visage of what he had been only days before. He'd had a good long time to take it in, and he was skilled enough in disguise that he'd been able to perfectly recreate the image of creatures he'd viewed for only a second. If anything, it was the only area of magic he was anywhere above competent in.

With the thought perfectly summoned in his head, he attempted to transform. A flicker, a green light over his body, and there he was again, with the slender, feminine physique. But he was still him. No change of mental faculties, no greater connection to his people, no crown. The water looked back at him curiously, though the local wildlife seemed disinterested.

It was with no small measure of shock that he realised his transformation was botched. His eyes were smaller than they should've been, his teeth too angular, his body's curves misproportioned, legs too short... This wasn't a usual occurrence.

He tried again, this time as Clavus. Impersonating a high class changeling was punishable by death, so to do so as a queen was punishable by a comparably slow death... but Chrysalis had seen Clavus many times in his life. In fact, in her final moments, he figured he saw her better than anyone else ever had. Again, he tried, and again, the transformation was a failure. Features were off, parts of the queen didn't look as they should've. Even the colouration of her eyes was wrong.

Sighing, Chrysalis changed into any other changeling he could think of. An elite, the general from the other day, Fascia, one of the more nimble scouts. Every transformation was perfect and without flaw, right down to the voices, when he tested them.

What did that mean? Both his and Clavus' looks were products of the crown, could they not be replicated?

He could feel the weight in his bag. He'd been looking for any excuse not to put the crown back on, but this recent discovery spurred him on. He just wanted another glance at the form, to see if his mind was playing tricks on him, if he had or hadn't in fact got things wrong. He took it out from his bags, and hesitantly, he slipped it on his head.

Chrysalis looked down at the reflection again, and this time, the water rippled. Not only that, but the wildlife around actually paused in its activity, all looking to her. She looked back, and the surrounding creatures began to move again, faster.

She knew what it meant without having to think. They respected her, feared her. They knew a predator when they saw one.

Chrysalis stretched out a long leg, pushing the tip of her hoof into the water and beginning to swish it back and forth. Again, her mind felt alive, but this time, she was a tiny bit more prepared. It was still daunting, to say the least, and what surprised her most was the fact that even here, a couple of miles from home, she could feel the presence of the hive just as strongly as she had the first time.

She imagined if she really focussed, if she learnt to do so, she'd be able to feel changelings all over equus.

Did this form make her a queen? Her mind decided to answer yes. It was an impulsive, confident action, and it didn't entirely feel like Chrysalis, but she enjoyed it all the same. "Queen..." she muttered to herself, again surprised by the softness of her voice, which had risen several octaves. "Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings."

They say that words have power, and while these ones didn't encourage an explosion or light show, they did make Chrysalis tense and bite her lip, blinking curiously at herself. She wasn't asking in that moment, she was asserting. As a male, as a drone, she never would've, and she knew it, but in this form... she felt the part.

She was a queen, as Clavus had wanted her to be. The only question was whether she could remain one.

Chrysalis still didn't feel comfortable in this body of hers. She stood, albeit slowly, walking around the pond and back towards the forest. She decided that she wished she could get there faster, and through a burst of magic she could scarcely even comprehend, she was teleported not to, but way past her mark, fifty feet further than she'd intended to walk.

Okay, random bursts of really powerful magic? That was new. A little scary, too.

But Chrysalis wasn't taking the crown off yet. She wasn't sure where her newfound confidence was coming from, but she suspected it was her female self that possessed it, that was willing to test its own boundaries rather than simply run away. It almost felt like being in a dream, being the self that she'd always imagined, but never thought could be truly real.

There was so much to do, so much to consider, but she didn't even know how her damn body worked yet. She had to be careful. To expose herself early could be grounds to be exploited, to be used by the council or some other party in order to further their goals, and she wouldn't be a figurehead, nor would she allow another to seize power in her name.

...whoa, that was a lot of quick thought. This crown really sped up her faculties.

Continuing in her walk, she came across a large bear. Bears were often hostile towards changelings if they got too close, choosing to engage and fight, and as such, changelings avoided them when they weren't hunting in packs.

This bear took one look at Chrysalis and started to back away. Chrysalis smiled with the sadistic glee of a hunter. Perhaps this would be a chance to test her new abilities.

She took a single step forwards, and the bear bolted, its bulky form hardly seeming to slow it down as it bounded through the woods. Chrysalis gave chase with a single flap of her wings for speed, opting to stay grounded and gallop after him out of fear that she wouldn't be able to control her new wings. In truth, she wasn't even hungry. She would capture this bear to prove a point, and then she would let it go.

It was keeping level with her pace, not managing to outrun her, but not losing momentum either, and it didn't seem to be growing tired any time soon. It was with a small measure of shock that Chrysalis realised she wasn't even going half as fast as she could've been. She'd have been maxed out by now, usually.

And so she sped up, faster than she'd ever seen a changeling run before. She caught up to the bear in a moment, and not trusting her horn for fear of obliterating half a mile of forest in the process, she instead opted to pounce on the bear, hoping to knock it off balance.

Again, she severely underestimated her abilities. So much so that when she jumped, she didn't only knock the bear clean over, but she sailed right past it from her momentum, crashing into a nearby tree and cracking the bark with the force of impact. She stood slowly, but realised soon after that she barely felt any pain. Her body was oddly resilient in this form, and within seconds, any notion of pain was gone.

The bear looked up at her glumly, defeated. It struck her as odd that it didn't try to fight at all. For a moment, she simply looked at it, watching to see if it would get up or try to walk away.

And then she realised that she had just taken down a bear. It dawned on her that she, Chrysalis, had just beaten a bear into submission with a single leap, and she didn't have a scratch to show for it.

That kind of accomplishment deserved some kind of reward. She barely felt herself lick her lips as she looked the bear over. She'd never tasted a bear's love before, she wondered what it was like. Just a small sip, she told herself. This one didn't need to be drained.

By the time she thought again, she realised that the bear looked to be on the edge of unconsciousness. What had happened? Why did she only feel barely sated, yet feel completely full at the same time? Why wasn't she stopping? A part of her mind was telling her that this was fine, that it was the natural order of things, that she could simply let this prey slip into sleep, perhaps death, that this was the new order of things now...

She silenced those thoughts with an angry snarl, cutting off the flow of magic and shaking her head manically. When she went to wipe her face of sweat, she realised that she had tears in her eyes.

The bear looked pathetic, curled up and ready to accept death. With a burst of magic, Chrysalis rejuvenated as much of the bear's energy as she could, and it stood again. She knew something would be missing from it for a good while, though, the capacity to feel for another.

She had gone too far. Simple creature or not, there was no need for such gluttony, and yet she had scarcely realised what she was doing until it was too late, even tried to justify it to herself!

With a snarl, she placed a hoof to her head, then hesitated. Her mind was changing, her body too. She simply needed to come to grips with these new instincts and emotions, like she imagined Clavus had done before her. She was a benevolent and loving queen, and all knew it. There was no way that the crown automatically made its user more cold, more ruthless.

Perhaps it was something that had resided in Chrysalis all along, something she had neglected to see until she had the power to utilise it. Or perhaps she was worrying too much about something that she would not let happen again.

Either way, it was becoming dark. Necessity won out in the end, forcing Chrysalis to take the crown off and place it in her saddlebags again.

He almost missed the feeling when it was gone, that of truly knowing who he was. Not only that, but the crown had been a tad difficult to take off this time.

Chrysalis' walk home was filled with confusing thoughts that swirled in circles and refused to stop. His mind was muddled without the crown, and once again, he found it increasingly difficult to make sense of things. That said, where he'd first held fear of the crown, that feeling was beginning to lessen with each moment he spent considering it.

He was broken from his concentration by the sight of a tall pillar of fire in the distance, near the hive.

Shocked and worried, he began to rush towards it without a second thought. What if a fight had broken out? What if it was another attack, like before? Fear was forgotten in the presence of duty, and he almost felt as if he was spurred on by thoughts from earlier, qualities he'd managed to retain from his previous transformations.

As the scene came closer into view and the fire continued to rage, he saw a large congregation of changelings surrounding it, not running and screaming, but shouting and raving arguing amongst one another. Whatever this meant, there was no chance that it was good.

When he was close enough, Chrysalis saw exactly what was burning. It was a large effigy of an equine shape, crafted from wood, it seemed. Standing at the front of it were a small group of changelings offset from the rest of the group, shouting to all that would listen. "The queen is dead!" one of them bellowed, and Chrysalis imagined it wasn't for the first time.

Oh. Oh, shit. How had the changelings discovered the truth so quickly? Chrysalis looked about wherever she could, but didn't see a single council member in sight, though their presence might have been obscured by the sheer number of changelings present.

A changeling in the crowd didn't seem convinced. "How do you know that she is dead?" he shouted back, and was met with a good deal of cheering. Patriotic to the end, it seemed. Or fearful, and hoping that it was a lie only for their own sakes. It was hard to be sure.

"We know she is dead because the pony that burns before us has claimed responsibility for it!" the loud one on the makeshift podium replied, essentially hissing the word pony. "Angel Strongheart says that it was her own agents that crept into the heart of the hive and destroyed our queen where she stood! That there were no survivors, that it took days for her to be discovered!"

Chrysalis audibly gasped at this revelation. Angel was said to be the leader of the New Equestrian Republic, the ponies to the north that had relentlessly thought the changelings for years. Was it possible that they had truly been the killers, that they had found some way around the throne's anti-magic wards?

"If this is true, then why hasn't the hive been informed?" another onlooker shouted, clearly skeptical.

"That's simple! It's because they're scared, and they don't know what to do! I'm scared!" the changeling said, his fangs showing. "It makes me shudder to think that our beloved queen could be murdered like cattle, stripped of her life and laughed at by these swine who so proudly proclaim it was their doing!"

"Don't speak about the queen that way! This is a pack of lies!" That call was met with jeers and cheers alike, angry shouts and shoving in the crowd.

"If it is a lie, then why has no one seen her in over a week, even as rumours continue to fly around! This is only confirmation of what we all feared! Whether you choose to believe it or not, it is truth, and there is nothing we can do to change that!" The changeling's fangs met in a growl. "The only thing we can do is take revenge on the pony bitch that took our queen away!"

More cheers. The place was becoming hot, and it wasn't from the fire. Chrysalis was sweating, feeling as if he was about to hyperventilate.

"What would you have us do?" One of the voices from earlier sounded. "Call us to arms, lead us as if you're a warrior? What do you know of tactics or battle strategy?"

"Nothing! I am a carpenter, but I would sooner die fighting than sit at home and wait to starve! Without the queen we have no leadership, and we are nothing if we do not act as a hive! If you don't trust me to lead a fight, bring me a fighter, and we'll have him lead us. We will lay the republic to waste for what they have done here!"

His silhouette was backed by roaring flames. The warring shouts and cheers on every side of Chrysalis only grew and grew. This could lead to war, Chrysalis knew, or worse, division. The changelings didn't seem ready to agree on anything, it was almost as if the queen's death was causing a huge schism between them.

They needed someone to rule them, to keep them under control and stop the coming conflict that threatened to consume all of them. Chrysalis brushed his hoof against his saddlebags, considering the inevitable. Could he really hold it off now?

"We will burn their homes to the ground and feast on their love, and then Equestria will be next!"

More cheers, more hungry, angry changelings.

Yeah, this had gone far enough.

With a steeling breath, Chrysalis reached into his saddlebags and placed the crown on his head. With the transformation this time being instant, she walked through the crowd, all of them parting of their own accord, stunned, gasping, whispering.

"...Queen Clavus... Queen Clavus is here!"

"No, it isn't the queen! She looks different!"

"It's an impostor!" one shouted, rushing forwards from the podium to attack Chrysalis. She lifted the changeling up in her magic, gently, and then placed him down elsewhere. For her, it had been the most simple, fluid movement. For him, it had been a freezing action that he couldn't hope to stop.

When she finally reached the centre of the crowd, rising up to the top of the podium, she looked out to the gathered crowd, all of whom stared at her with a mixture of shock and awe. The usual Chrysalis wouldn't have had a clue what to say in this situtation. The new, improved Chrysalis wasn't entirely sure either, so she took her time clearing her throat.

"Changelings!" she shouted, albeit a little too loudly, and a bunch of them flinched back. "No, ah... Subjects! Yes, that's better. Subjects! I am not Queen Clavus, and I do not claim to be!" That sounded good, she thought. She wasn't an impostor, at least.

"Th-then..." Chrysalis turned, and saw that it was the pony that was so confidently bellowing earlier. Funny how her presence changed that. "Then who are you, your grace?" He said it loud enough that some might have heard.

But Chrysalis wanted to be sure that every Changeling in the area would hear her word, and then spread it. "Glad you should ask. I am Clavus' successor, named so on her deathbed. My name... is Chrysalis." She took her time to look over the crowd, who looked back at her in wonder. In truth, she felt the same, but she couldn't show it publicly, no signs of weakness could be displayed. "Who heard the message from Strongheart?"

A helmed changeling stepped forwards. He too was hesitant to speak. "I did... I received it from the north, I spent all day flying back here with the news."

"There will be no war declared in the queen's name today." Chrysalis stated, ignoring the want in the eyes of each changeling that clearly desired some form of retribution. "First I must speak to Celestia, then the queen's ambassadors and advisers. We must piece together a full picture of this situation. Only then can we act."

"False queen!" A warrior shouted, flying to the podium. "You would dare to converse with our enemies when Clavus has just been murdered?!"

"I watched Clavus die," Chrysalis stated, a bite in her tone. "You will talk to your new queen with some respect, or I will see you're put behind enemy lines wrapped in a little bow. Do I make myself clear?"

"You probably killed her yourself! You have no claim to that crown, nor the throne, you scheming, conniving—"

The last word of that insult was lost from the sound of Chrysalis' hoof striking the warrior's face, sending him tumbling to the ground. "The only reason you aren't being put in chains right now is that I admire your loyalty to Clavus, but do not speak ill of me again. The next strike will not be a warning, and I've yet to discover my own strength."

The warrior stared at her, hatred in his eyes, but he relented nonetheless, crawling backwards. Well, one subject almost knocked unconscious and threats of a civil war brewing? Not a bad start.

Chrysalis could only hope her time of queen would get a little easier from here.