The Golden Daughter

Chrysalis awoke slowly but did not open her eyes. She felt warm and comfortable. A much different sensation from the crushing pain that rolled over her like a wave when she slammed into the ground at the entrance to the Badlands. She couldn’t recall ever feeling quite so content.

Then the hunger hit her. She was abysmally low on love. She could not remember a time she felt so hungry as the emptiness tore at her. Chrysalis knew she would need to find a pony to capture and harvest love from. Or, if worst came to worst, do it the old fashioned way and find one to imitate and then harvest from their lover. But as she realized how wounded she was after the battle and how remote the Badlands were, the fear began to set in.

Chrysalis tested her reserves of magic. She didn’t know how much energy from Shining Armor she still had. Most had been expended in the battle with Celestia and even more was delivered to her swarm as they invaded the Equestrian Capitol, Canterlot.

My swarm.

Chrysalis opened her eyes in a panic and cast the spell to call out to her swarm with magic. The shock she felt at hearing nothing in response to her call was only exceeded by the shock at seeing where she was. She was lying in a bed, a very comfortable and warm bed. And she was inside a room, it had wooden walls, wooden furniture, and a wood-burning stove. It was... cozy, for lack of a better term.

Most importantly, it wasn’t a dungeon.

“This must be a... cabin. Such a strange word for a wooden house.” Chrysalis spoke to herself quietly as she looked to the room from the side of the bed she rest on.

A voice rose up to meet her ears. “Yeah, well it’s been your home for the last two days, and it’ll be for a while longer ‘til ya heal up.”

Chrysalis looked over the edge of the bed and gasped as she saw a dark grey pegasus laying there with a pillow under his head and a quilt covering his body. He smiled up at her.

Chrysalis gasped and fired a mind-control spell at him.

~~~

Smokejumper arched an eyebrow in confusion as the strange creature he had rescued began squinting and groaning in frustration. She was looking down at him and pointing her scraggly horn at him, concentrating with all of her might, and then opening her eyes to pant and stare at him. She huffed in frustration before continuing to make strange pained expressions and wave her horn at him.

“You, uh, y’alright? Ya seem to be havin’ some trouble there.” Smokejumper scratched at his deep brown mane and made to rise from the floor but a hoof fell from the bed and pressed down on his shoulder, stopping him.

“No! You will feed me!” the creature shouted as it continued to struggle with some invisible force.

The tip of its gnarled black horn began to emit tiny green sparks and Smokejumper realized that it must be attempting to cast some sort of magic.

“Woah, now! No need to get hostile, if you’re hungry I got some stew sittin’ in the pot, just give me a second to get it.”

Smokejumper shrugged the weak black hoof of the creature aside and rose to all fours. He looked down at the emaciated thing in the bed as it tried to roll to its back and look at him before yelping in pain. It began to test all of its limbs to find they were weak and aching.

Smokejumper frowned at the site of the pitiful thing and turned to head to the stove. “Ya might want to relax. Those fancy wings have seen better days. I’m afraid you won’t be leavin’ the ground any time soon. Not until they heal up.”

The creature furled its brow in confusion before turning to look back at its severely damaged wings. Then it held a hoof to the side of its head and pulled some of the long blue hair to look at it. With rising panic and widening eyes it began to breathe quickly and inspect her hooves. They were still just as mangled and hole filled as she remembered. She fought to remove the linens and inspect the damage to her form.

Smokejumper ignored the sounds of shuffling from the bed as he used his muzzle to bite down on the knitted handle guard and lifted the iron top off of the simmering pot. With deft motions from his hooves he manipulated a ladle to pour a healthy serving of vegetable stew into a bowl.

The creature looked to the pony with a curious but calculating expression. It flicked its ears side to side and ran a tongue along its fangs absent-mindedly. As if coming to some sort of conclusion, it sank back further under the covers and ceased attempting to leave them.

Smokejumper looked over to the creature in his bed after placing the top back on the pot. It seemed to have relaxed and was fixing him with a flat and emotionless stare, but the sunken eyes and narrow waist told him all he needed to know. This creature, no matter how strange or ill-tempered, was hungry.

“I will never understand how some ponies manage without magic.” It spoke for the first time.

Smokejumper laughed at the strange voice as he walked over to the bedside. He was balancing the soup bowl on one hoof carefully as he said, “Heh, well I suppose with practice comes proficiency. At least that’s what my pa always said.” He held the soup on his extended foreleg to the strange creature.

With a calculated gaze between the soup and the pony, the creature came to a conclusion and grasped the soup with both of its hooves. It did not motion to eat any of it but it did smell at the steam rising from it suspiciously. It sneered briefly as a grumbling sound came from its abdomen beneath the sheets.

Smokejumper frowned at the sight. “I know it don’t look like much, but it’s the best you’re gonna find ‘round here.”

The creature continued to stare at the stallion as if calculating something. The croaking and gurgling sounds from the body of the creature continued intermittently. She made no motion to consume the food given to her.

Smokejumper sat on the side of his bed and used a hoof to drag the covers back over the relaxed body of the creature to keep it warm. He began to tuck in the warm quilt that covered her. “I tried my best to bandage those holes in her legs but they don’t seem to be bleedin’ or healin’ any more than when I found ya. The worst were some scrapes and cracks here and there. Ya were oozin’ a bit of, um, green stuff, but that’s all patched up now.” He looked at the creature as it began to analyze him silently. Smokejumper sighed and looked up from his work fussing over the bedding. “Look, it’s still dark out an’ I know you mares need your beauty sleep, so I’ll leave ya to it. Just let me know if you need anythin’.” Smokejumper moved over to the wood burning stove and opened it to toss another log in.

“How did you find me?” It asked as an a pained scowl crossed its features briefly.

Smokejumper’s ears perked up and he turned to look to the creature. He cleared his throat and a bright gleam came to his eye. He prepared to do his favorite thing, tell a story. “Well, I was sittin’ out on my lookout tower doin’ a bit of writin’ when I saw a big hail of objects come flyin’ over the mountain range. The biggest one landed closest to here at the edge of the forest and just in the Badlands, so I made a short flight down to see what it was. Er, what you were, that is to say.” He paused and closed the iron door to the stove as the log began to catch. He smiled over at the creature awkwardly. “Uh, and if ya don’t mind me askin’, what is that exactly? You I mean, um, what are you?”

Smokejumper looked to the creature with genuine curiosity written all over his face. He wasn’t afraid, just sincerely worried about how best to help the strange female in his bed. He realized she was probably frightened and that he should bridge the gap first, “My name’s Smokejumper, I’m a fire watcher.” He pointed to his flank where there was an image of dark smoke blowing in the wind. “Well, that is, I meant to say, that’s my job. I’m actually just a pegasus pony.” He smiled bashfully at the female creature.

A moment of silence passed and the creature seemed to grimace in pain briefly. Smokejumper sighed as he realized he may not get much more out of it until it was in better condition. He went back to adjusting the logs in the stove.

The creature had a gleam of mischief in its eye and smirked briefly. It began to tilt the bowl of stew towards its mouth and then spilled it all over its neck, muzzle, and withers. “Ah!”, it yelped in surprise. It paused as it started to shiver and groan in pain. The empty soup bowl falling from its grasp and rolling off the side of the bed.

Smokejumper turned to see the creature struggling and took in the scene in an instant. He grabbed a small towel, hurried over, and leaned above the female. He began to dab at the hot stew on her black, hard skin. He still didn’t know what she was, not exactly, but it looked enough like a pony for him to care for it. He would hate to think that after nearly two whole days of first aid that his patient would get worse.

The creature continued to shiver and moan in distress.

“What is it?” he said, “What’s happenin’? Talk to me!” Smokejumper began feeling her forehead and checking her pulse. He was doing everything he knew to control shock but still she seemed to be shivering.

“S-so c-cold.” She managed to whisper out as she convulsed in the beddings.

Smokejumper didn’t know what could have brought on the symptoms so suddenly. It seemed like hypothermia setting in but he had kept the cabin warm. Yet, the creature seemed to be cool to the touch. He didn’t know if she was cold-blooded naturally or not, but if she felt cold he would warm her up. Smokejumper furled his brow in determination and tossed the damp towel aside. With a swift motion, he lifted the covers and crawled in next to her and wrapped her in a hug. He fluffed his large grey wings and used them to cover her cool black insect-like hide. His foreleg reached down and grabbed the quilt from the floor and raised it up onto the bed, draping it over them both. He sighed as he felt the trembling creature in his embrace begin to slowly warm up from his body heat.

She opened her eyes and her fanged muzzle stopped chattering. She smiled at the stallion and he smiled at her.

“Let’s just stay this way for a bit until you warm up. It’s how they taught me to treat hypothermia. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how cold ya were whe—”

Smokejumper was interrupted by a set of lips being thrust forward into his. His trainwreck of a consciousness could only process one thought, fangs. He opened his mouth to yell in surprise and then felt a forked tongue begin exploring it. When the initial shock of being open mouth kissed faded, he tried to struggle and break out of the tight embrace he had pulled himself into with the stranger, only to find that her legs had wrapped around his and were holding fast.

Somehow, the weakened creature was getting stronger.

The kiss grew sloppy and rough as Smokejumper struggled to push away and get out of the bed but only ended up getting more and more tangled in the sheets. He managed to free a foreleg and pushed away at the fanged muzzle that was pressing into his face. It separated briefly before diving back in, but now the target was his neck.

Smokejumper felt a warmth filling his face as the strange creature nibbled at his flesh.

The stallion yelped as the fangs pricked his sensitive skin. He ceased struggling as the sensation made him forget what was happening for a moment. When the hooves tightened back around him he regained his senses and began to shove the female creature off of him with renewed vigor. He squirmed against her as she pushed back bodily and turned him onto his back. She leaned over him and rested her weight on his pelvis and began to hiss into his neck as she continued to lick at it.

Smokejumper realized with abundant clarity just what the creature had in mind and he made up his own mind right then to break one of the most important promises he made to his pa. Never hit a filly.

The right hook sailed across the temple of the creature and she shrieked in pain.

Smokejumper leapt from under her and untangled himself from the linens. He flapped his wings hard and flew to the door. He grabbed his axe with his forehooves - clumsily - the tool held defensively in front of him.

“That was- you are- I don’t-” He sputtered as the confusion and anger he felt at being so thoroughly violated waged war with another part of him. The part that enjoyed it and raised its flag proudly between his hind legs. “Unacceptable! That’s what that was, downright inappropriate!”

The creature only laughed. It extended its long tongue to lap up a bit of the stew that was still on her chin. It parted some of the deep blue hair behind an ear and gave a sensuous look to the stallion and his better half. “Thanks for the appetizer, if you ever want to get to the main course, you’ll know where to find me.” She winked at him and continued to lick at the holes in her hooves as she wiped up the stew from her chest. “And you can call me Chrysalis.”

Smokejumper blushed profusely at the sight and bolted out of the cabin into the darkness. His mind still struggling to come to terms with what had just happened.

He didn’t know what she was, but he knew she was dangerous. He took wing and flew to the tall tower by his home on the mountaintop. The giant wooden structure had a clear line of sight over everything from Dodge City to the far north and all of the forest travelling east of there down to the Haysead Swamps to the west. The snow-capped mountain range that marked the dividing line between Equestria and the Badlands stretched to the horizon in every other direction. Only the mesas and other stone formations of the Badlands themselves broke up the panoramic view of the Macintosh Hills.

Smokejumper looked down to the cabin and saw through the window that the fanged thing in his bed was going back to sleep with what appeared to be a smile on her face. Smokejumper absentmindedly rubbed at his sensitive neck where the sharp points had grazed him. He began to piece together a theory on what she really was.

Smokejumper flapped his wings in frustration and regarded his growing problem. Being a firewatcher was a lonely job. There was no running water, no fancy electricity or steam power. Everything that Smokejumper needed, he got for himself. He hadn’t seen or spoken to anypony in six months, but he knew how to survive. He could take care of any problem that came up, and he could take care of himself.

So he did.