A Sympathetic Perspective
The door to the Carousel Boutique slammed open as Pinkie and Applejack entered.
“One moment!” Rarity’s voice called out from another room. The fashionista entered the main room, her glasses draped on her snout and a measuring tape wrapped around her neck.
“What can I do for you both today?”
“Have ya seen Dash today?” Applejack frowned.
“No, why?”
“Well, she’s been acting mighty oddly lately,” Applejack continued.
“She’s been spending a lot of time with Scootaloo lately,” Pinkie added.
“So? That’s normal for the two of them.” Rarity shrugged.
“Yeah, but she’s also spending a lot of time with…what’s his name again?” Applejack asked Pinkie.
“Written Script.” The party mare responded.
“…The shop owner? What about him?” Rarity frowned.
“He’s the president of her fan club.” Applejack rolled her eyes, “Mighty creepy if ya ask me.”
“So she had admirers,” Rarity shrugged “that’s hardly any different than you and Ca-”
“It’s plenty different!” Applejack cut her off, “Anyway, that ain’t the point. You know how she feels about him. An’ now she’s spending time with him? Something ain’t right.”
“It’s possible to have a change of heart.”
“I don’t know…”
---
The door to Fluttershy’s cottage opened and Rainbow Dash trotted out.
“Aaaany way, thanks for hearin’ me out, Shy.”
“Oh, it’s no problem.” Fluttershy wearily smiled at her friend.
“See you later,” Dash grinned as she took off.
Fluttershy closed the door and collapsed onto her couch. Several of her songbirds flittered by, dropping a blanket on the mare as Angel frowned.
“I don’t know why, but it seems like every time Rainbow Dash comes by I start to feel ill.”
The rabbit shook his head.
“Oh no, it’s not like that, Angel. Would you put the teakettle on?”
Angel rolled his eyes and hopped off.
The Everfree Forest
The cyan pegasus paused, glancing around to make sure that no one had followed her. Satisfied, the mare knocked on the door.
“Enter if you please.
Now I must return my attention to these…” a voice called out from inside the hut.
Rainbow Dash pushed open the door and entered. Zecora stood near her pot, mixing something with in.
“Ah, if it is not my many hued friend, have the effects come to an end?”
“I think they’re starting to get suspicious,” Rainbow Dash grumbled, “I couldn’t find the orange or pink one anywhere.”
“It is no surprise that they plan, when out of character you do stand.” Zecora shrugged, “Specifically, I said not to choose her form, for a single mistake will leave you forlorn.”
“Yeah well…”
Rainbow Dash shrugged as she was engulfed in a sickly green flame. As the flame faded the gangly form of Queen Chrysalis stood there.
“More love could be harvested from one of them.”
The Changeling queen sat atop a stool, as she continued on.
“The orange one makes things too difficult. I barely got by as Princess Cadance,”
“They say time makes fools of us all,
It is good that the wedding did not stall.” Zecora muttered.
“Disguising myself as the pink one might have worked,” Chrysalis paused, “but she knows everypony. The dressmaker is out as well, I don’t know anything about sewing.”
“The choice is clear,” Zecora chuckled, “You must…”
“I’m not going to be Twilight,” Chrysalis interrupted the zebra, “Not after the wedding.”
“..I would have said select the pony of yellow,
Not the one who handed you your rear.
But it is good to see that you fear.” Zecora chuckled.
“You’re awfully mouthy for a zebra,” Chrysalis shook her head, “And why do you talk in rhymes?”
“Because I was taught to speak in rhymes.
My Equestrian teacher was not the best for the time,” Zecora rolled her eyes,
“He insisted that we must do it this way, and now I am mocked for it, this is not okay.”
“…ergh.” Chrysalis got off the stool and lay on Zecora’s bed. “Cast out of the hive for my failures and now I’m stuck living in a hut with a rhyming zebra.”
“If you are unsatisfied with your current lodgings, then you may leave with your few belongings” Zecora shot back, “I am not a charity, I think you will see, for now I believe you shall carry your weight, now please stand up and bring me that crate.”
“…This one?” the sickly green aura of the Changeling engulfed a wooden box. As Zecora nodded in confirmation, Chrysalis got back to her hooves and trotted over to the shaman and her brew.
“…What is this?”
“Apple products gained from favors and trade. Much more affordable than your pitiful raids,” Zecora replied.
“…It’s not like I have money or can just waltz into Ponyville like this,” Chrysalis countered, “I don’t get it, Discord the God of Chaos gets a pass, but if I try to show my face anywhere, I’ll be arrested if I’m lucky, tossed into a dungeon if I’ m not.”
“Ponyfolk are indeed quite strange, but do you not think you could work out some exchange?
Perhaps all you need to find redemption, is to speak to the Princess and gain her attention?”
“Oh that’s a brilliant plan,” Chrysalis rolled her eyes.
“I can see it now,” Chrysalis coughed before continuing on in an off-key and high pitched voice,
“‘Excuse Me, Princesses Celestia; can you give me a second chance? I know I kidnapped your niece, brainwashed you nephew-in-law, attempted to overthrow your kingdom and defeated you in combat, but can we let bygones be bygones?’” The former queen made a disgusted retching sound.
“Please.”
Zecora shook her head, “You cannot run and hide forever, I wish to make your situation better. Do not forget that they once feared me, but with the right assistance, they might see, that you are not as you once were, but perhaps that a change of heart is not an err.”
“…Enough of life advice, when may I eat?”
“Was feeding off of Fluttershy not enough?” Zecora smirked, “Perhaps for you, that love was too tough.”
“Don’t get me started with this again. Friendship isn’t enough to satisfy me.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes, “Its empty calories.”
“And what of young Scootaloo or Stallion she despises? Perhaps they shall make much better prizes?”
“One is lust and desire, not love,” Chrysalis retched, “It’s like trying to drink oil; it taste horrible and isn’t good for you. As for Scootaround,”
“Scootaloo is the filly’s name,” Zecora interrupted. Before Chrysalis could respond, Zecora continued, “If you forget, you have yourself to blame.”
“..As for Scootaloo, I do not like to feed off of foals.” Chrysalis grumbled.
“Ah, perhaps the disgraced has some honor…”
“They don’t make a fulfilling meal,” the Changeling continued, “I need Five of them to make up for a single adult.”
“…Perhaps that is for best, for they may be calmer.” Zecora shook her head as she spooned some of the cauldron’s contents into a bowl.
“Love it is not, but it will still sustain you. As usual there is more than enough of this special stew.”
Chrysalis took a wiff of the bowl and wrinkled her nose at it, “What’s so special about it?”
“I have looked up information on a Changeling’s diet; do not insult your host. Try it.”
Chrysalis reluctantly took the bowl from the zebra and stuck a spoon in it. She glanced up at the zebra who continued to stare at the changeling with a stern look.
“Will you hurry up and try my stew? I will not stop until you do.”
Chrysalis muttered something under her breath as she took a spoonful of the muck and stuck it in her mouth. The suspicious look on the changeling’s face changed to one of surprise and delight as she swallowed the stew.
“It’s good.”
“I would hope it has satisfactory ingredients, for the recipe I found would not accept deviance.”
“What’s it made of?” Chrysalis asked as she ate more, “Wait, fill this up again, and then tell me.”
“I am not a servant for you to command, If you want more, get it with your own hands.” Zecora blinked, “That was not the right thing to say, I curse my speaking patterns, but anyway…”
Chrysalis eagerly scooped more stew into her bowl and continued to eat as Zecora cleaned up.
“There is onion, carrot, and some potatoes; I have also gained chickens from Feather Torando’s.”
“Chicken?” Chrysalis looked at the bowl and back at the zebra, “I didn’t think they’d let you do that. Especially the yellow one.”
“Ah, but once it has passed on, it is truly something that you can pawn,” Zecora shrugged, “Even Fluttershy’s chickens must pass away, and then some of the animals get a treat that day.”
“…Don’t you think they’ll get suspicious if you keep buying the dead chickens?” Chrysalis ate more of the stew.
Zecora paused, “…Regardless of our current standing, the ponyfolk are still quite demanding. Some still fear and others hide…”
Zecora shrugged, “Fools will be fools, and I have tried.”
“And you wonder why I keep my disguise up.”
“I did not wish to conquer yonder, but give it time, they may ponder: what has happened to the beastly queen? But yet you wander unseen.”
“…” Chrysalis placed the bowl down.
“You’re getting at something, what is it?” she demanded.
The Zebra smiled, “And here I thought that you’d never ask, I have a plan, are you up to task?
Use a new guise, not one you’ve seen, but take parts of each, with a slate that is clean.
Perhaps the eyes of one, the coat of another, and soon you will have a guise, unlike any other.
With a new face, and certainly a name, you may find that the ponyfolk are quite tame.”
“..Mix disguises?” Chrysalis frowned, “I’ve never done that.”
“There is always a first time to try. Why not go ahead let it fly?”
“…It’s not like I have anything better to do anyway,” Chrysalis rolled her eyes.
A sickly green aura surrounded Chrysalis and engulfed the changeling. After several moments, it vanished leaving a cyan blue coated unicorn with a Grey mane highlighted with white. Chrysalis opened her eyes and levitated a mirror towards her.
“…I look stupid,” she placed the mirror back down, “What do you think, Zecora?”
“A cutie mark is needed to make it appeal, but other than that, it looks quite real.”
“…Oh, right.”
The sickly aura appeared on both sides of Chrysalis’s flank as a sliced apple appears.
“How’s that?”
“An Apple will draw suspicion, perhaps something with less ambition?” Zecora suggested.
“Why would…oh right, Applejack.”
The aura returned, quickly changing the apple slices to a pair of butterflies.
“Better?” Chrysalis looked over at the zebra who nodded her approval.
“Tomorrow go as you are, and then we shall see that you will go far.
Form friendships with those ponyfolk, and you shall see that this is not a joke.
But now I tire, and must rest my head.
I think I shall be off to bed.”
The zebra stood and trotted to her cot as Chrysalis dropped her disguise.
“Why?” the former queen asked.
“I do not know what you seek; perhaps clarification is what you must speak?”
“Why are you helping me?” the Changeling shook her head, “I’ve been here for weeks now, and you still haven’t tried to turn me in.
So what is it?”
Zecora paused.
“I know what it is like, to be fear and stared at with spite.
This I do not wish upon any other, regardless of their color.
So I will help you find a place, so that you can live here in grace.
If accept a Chaos god they can do, then perhaps one day it will be the same for you.
But until that day comes, you are always welcome in my hut.”
Chrysalis stared at the zebra is shock.
“…Thank you.” She smiled, “….Wait, that last one wasn’t a rhyme.”
Zecora coyly smiled back, “I know.”
