Madame Butterfly

Trixie

“Your most important piece of equipment, is your shield,” Alterixie shouted. “If you must make a choice between a spell and a shield, choose the shield!”

“Right!” Trixie replied. The sky-blue globe of her shield gleamed beautifully under the – ugh – twilight. Two rocks, wrapped in flaming green, tore down and impacted on it. One exploded in a dazzling flash, the other ricocheted off in a spray of turquoise sparks.

“Good!” Alterixie shouted, “but remember, the attack can also come from behind!” A shard of rock – the one that'd ricocheted – slammed into Trixie's shield from behind.

Gotta keep it up, Trixie thought, pumping raw power into the shieldspell – and the unbalanced surge of magic across the globe's surface drove her to her knees.

“Or below!” Alterixie yelled. This time, rock slammed into the ground just beyond Trixie's shield.

Huh?

She missed, thought Trixie – as a cloud of dust, kicked from the ground inside the shield by the impact beyond it flew into her face. Grit stung into her eyes, and instinct coiled her magic to clear then. It took, at most, half a second, and when she blinked her eyes clear-

-a flaming green splinter of rock floated before her nose, rotating gently about it's sharp axis. Strange, Trixie thought as her eyes crossed trying to focus on it, that I can't feel the heat. Most magefire's hot – but Alterixie's isn't.

“Congratulations,” Alterixie said. “You're dead.”

“Buck,” Trixie murmured. It was the fourth time Alterixie had 'killed' her today. That her shield had held until the other pony got sneaky wasn't much consolation. Diamond Dogs were probably good at sneaky.

Tomorrow they'd reach Gemstowne, where she was likely going to die.

“I'm going to die,” she said, and sniffed, tears welling in her eyes. “The Dogs are going to rip me to shreds and eat me. I don't wanna get eaten.”

“You're doing fine,” Alterixie comforted. “Your defences are already much stronger. But somepony like me is always going to find a way through eventually. You need to knock your opponent off their hooves before that happens. Now, I'm going to handle most of the offensive stuff, but it wouldn't hurt to teach you a few moves.”

“The firewhip?” Trixie asked. That, she'd like to learn. It'd been seriously cool, which meant she could use it in her shows. Let's see how that one-rope-trick earthpony Applejack liked it when Trixie turned up wielding that, hah!

Or, more realistically, if she was going to die in battle she could at least look awesome while doing it.

“No.” Alterixie said. “Unfortunately not. It's a mageforged weapon, tricky to cast and far trickier to wield.”

“Oh,” Trixie said. She'd been looking forward to-

“You're becoming quite proficient with the shield spell," Alterixie said. "Why don't I show you some of it's offensive applications?”

It hadn't gone badly, Trixie thought awhile later. Of course, there was still the little question of whether she could bring herself to kill anypony. In all Equestria, Twilight Sparkle was the pony she hated most. It was easy to imagine herself, standing proud with her head held high, whilst Sparkle prostrated herself and begged for forgiveness, pleaded that she be allowed to study at the hooves of such a Great and Powerful pony as Trixie, but... the vision ended with her magnanimous self, agreeing to teach Sparkle the few trifles of magic Trixie though Twilight could handle...

She couldn't imagine mounting Twilight's head on a pike, for example.

She couldn't even imagine magiduelling the other unicorn to death.

“What're we expecting, at Gemstowne?” She asked, and took a big bite of roasted rump of Rover to distract herself.

“'Some hundreds, thousands of ponies and Diamond Dogs. Different packs,” Alterixie said. “A strange system. No Queen,” she paused. “No, ah, Princess. Each pack has Alpha, Beta and Gamma dogs. Many digdogs. Many pony-slaves. The pack-of-packs rules Gemstowne, with a loose paw. No feared iron-shod hoof, no adored coruscating mane. Most packs just... do what they want,” Alterixie shook her head, and Trixie read it as disbelief.

“Packs have their own guards, own hunters,” Alterixie continued, “dogs, and ponies who think like dogs. Various mutts and strays, beyond the law of the packs. Like Rover's little band, paid a pittance in aquamarines to patrol the desert. We were a payday, for them, for conversion into gems.” Alterixie said, motioning to the collar she'd taken from Rover, which was studded with the pale-blue stones.

“Most ponies and digdogs work in the diamond mine,” Alterixie shrugged, “the dogs must have their diamonds. Some ponies mine coal or graphite, for burning or trade – to the griffons or to Equestria's black market. If you're a lucky pony, you have some skill to make or fix things, and you don't end up in the mines. You can even be a freepony – as valued as a mutt like Fido,” Alterixie said with a bark of laughter.

“We could die.” Trixie said. She hadn't heard much past 'thousands' - and if only one them were to live, it was not likely to be her. I might have to kill a pony, she thought. “This could be our last night in Equestria,” she thought about this. “Or out of it, as the case may be.”

“Yes,” Alterixie shrugged, “just like any other night.”

“In your life,” Trixie said. “Not mine.”

“My life is yours, or could've been," Alterixie said, rolling to face her. "What are you thinking of, other Trixie?”

“Things left behind, or undone. Old wounds, scabbed over but still raw. Debts uncollected or unpaid,” Trixie answered, a little wistful.

“Sparkle?” Alterixie asked.

“Something is owed, there,” Trixie agreed. “But, no. Trixie could let it go. Trixie can be the bigger pony. It's her own debts Trixie is considering, now. Like the one Trixie owes to you.”

“Trixie saved Trixie after Trixie's crash, then Trixie saved Trixie when Trixie was threatened by Diamond Dogs,” Alterixie said. “Our lives have been in each others hands, kept and returned safe. No blood-debt lies between us.”

“That is not what Trixie meant,” Trixie said, gently pressing Alterixie over onto her back. “Speaking of ponies left undone.”

“Oh.” Alterixie said, blushing. “Yes. Well. That.” She grinned, wickedly. “You should service your debt, then,” she said, shifting her hindquarters apart as Trixie's hooves and tongue slid down her body.

CHANGELINGCHANGELINGCHANGELINGCHANGELING

Chrysalis

Sex. Sex – Chrysalis thought as she lay back and tried to relax – had lots of upsides. It was very important between ponies, for starters. Sexual intercourse, between a mare and a stallion, usually produced just one or two foals. So ponies had to have a lot of sex, and they needed to actually raise their offspring, in order to propagate their species. Maintaining very close bonds – near permanent pairings – with their mates was a part of that, and regular and frequent intercourse was a part of that.

It was very useful for a changeling that ponies provided such a convenient method to feed upon themselves, one that both nourished a changeling thoroughly, and dulled her victim's wits to their danger.

As she'd done with Trixie after her crash, sexing a pony could provide a quick hit of love, whether or not there was any real connection between the two of you. Chrysalis's brow furrowed. Between the pony you were feeding on and the pony you were imponysonating, was what she should've thought

“Everything is okay, isn't it?” Trixie asked, nuzzling between Chrysalis's hindquarters.

On the downside, Chrysalis didn't really enjoy sex very much.

“I mean, this is okay?” Trixie asked. “Right?”

Shining Armor had been a true gentlecolt, conforming entirely to his lady's desires. Unfortunately for her, this meant he'd been bent to fit Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's rather twisted appetites. She'd been lucky to learn, early on, they'd promised to 'take a little break till the wedding'. After that, she'd stuck to mouth and magic, pleasuring and feeding on him.

She'd had to be careful of her fangs, and when he'd suggested she use her – delicate, gossamer – wings, she'd had her first true moment of body-horror in years. Nature had intended a certain number of holes, and they were quite sufficient.

Still, his love had been lavish with it's delicious and nutritious gifts.

Similarly with Trixie, it was better to give pleasure than it was to receive it – so long as one received ample servings of loving gratitude in return.

“Everything's fine,” Chrysalis murmured, “just fine.”

“Just fine?” Trixie replied. Her face was glistening.

“Well, yeah,” Chrysalis said. “You don't really owe me one. It doesn't work like that, you know?”

Maybe she could flip the little blue unicorn over, and pleasure Trixie into serving up a feast of love for her – as much as she dared take, for the simple truth was that using Trixie's strength to make love, feeding on it, and fighting Diamond Dogs with it, was the best way to utilise the resource that was Trixie. Love was efficient. Besides - Chrysalis was simply a far superior warrior.

“No.” Trixie snapped. “Trixie doesn't know. In fact, in Trixie's experience, it does work just exactly like that!"

Trixie drew a deep, hacking breath.

"Ponies buck Trixie, to their apparent satisfaction, and everything seems fine and they say everything's 'just fine'," Trixie screamed, "then no matter how Trixie tries to please them they don't stay satisfied and they aren't happy and then they leave and leave Trixie all alone! Alone and lonely and unhappy, because Trixie's a stupid, useless pony who's going to die in the desert or at the hooves of the diamond dogs when you leave Trixie all alone!” Trixie snarled. “So go ahead, buck Trixie. Trixie knows she's unloved, but go ahead and buck her anyway!”

Chrysalis, of course, did not love Trixie.

But it was important that Trixie continue to believe she did.

“No,” Chrysalis said. “I... this Trixie... would like you... the other Trixie... to, to,” she let her voice waver, “to pleasure me.” Chrysalis stood, hooves raising little puffs of dust from beside Trixie. Slowly, quite deliberately, she turned away from Trixie, flanks swaying, swishing her dock across the unicorn's face. She heard Trixie draw a deep breath, probably involuntarily and surely rich in her scent. “Even though this Trixie does not think she deserves it,” Chrysalis said, twitching her hips slightly.

Pure provocation.

“You do deserve it!” Trixie snapped, rising to her own hooves. “You're brilliant and beautiful-” Trixie paused. “Obviously,” she said, and Chrysalis was glad to hear confidence, self-confidence by proxy, in the unicorn's voice. She knew just what Trixie was seeing: Chrysalis's imponysonation of Trixie's own plot, half-hidden by Trixie's platinum tail. “But you're also dark and dangerous and mysterious. Princess Celestia would've chosen you to be her student in a heartbeat,” Trixie continued, scuffing her hoof back and forth in the dust. “She only chose Twilight in this reality because Twilight's edgy. Already halfway to being night. Halfway to being Nightmare Moon.”

Chrysalis didn't really care about Trixie's shame, or her excuses, either.

“I was Celestia's student,” Chrysalis lied, looking back over her flanks to see Trixie's mouth fall open. “My Celestia's... not a nice pony,” Chrysalis made up out of the whole cloth. The logic was simple: she needed Trixie's love to best Celestia, so she had to shatter Trixie's faith in Celestia – to break Trixie of her unconditional, worshipful love for Celestia. Chrysalis let a troubled look slide across her face. “Make me forget about it, please,” she begged. “Make me forget her. Make me happy.”

Gently, Chrysalis felt Trixie's lips press against her, just south of her most private place.

Or what Trixie considered her most private place to be, anyway. Chrysalis could take or leave it. Still... gentle was a change. Gentle was... nice.

“I'm so sorry,” Trixie whispered, pulling back aways. “To be betrayed... like that... by that godpony... I can't even imagine.”

If you live to see me reveal myself, Chrysalis thought, you will not have to.

“Do me,” Chrysalis whispered. “Love me. Make love to me.”

Trixie planted a kiss on one of her haunches, and began to nibble along her rump. Chrysalis gave one, deliberate twitch of muscle to reward and encourage her. No pony could've premeditated that twitch.

For a changeling, it was spawnsplay.

Trixie's tongue, wet and soft and perfectly rough, explored the smooth inner curve of Chrysalis's thighs.

“You're perfect,” Trixie whispered, “you're just too perfect.”

“Yes,” Chrysalis murmured, and let the disguise fall.

The Trixie of Trixie's dreams, voluptuous and strong, capable and self-confident, the pony Chrysalis had been imponysonating, melted away. In her place stood a mirror of Trixie as she really was: A haggard nopony, gaunt across the hips, her face aged by the desert wind, and her mane ravaged by the heat.

“Supple flesh spell,” Chrysalis said softly. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have wasted the energy, but... I wanted to be the pony you wanted me to be.”

“Teach me that,” Trixie murmured, eyes wide.

“Why?” Chrysalis asked. “So you can hide? So you can lie and pretend everything's okay?” She paused. “It was the first spell Celestia ever taught me. Everything she did for me... it was to make me the pony she wanted me to be. It's no good for a pony, Trixie. I love you just as you are. Do- do you still love me?”

“Of course I still love you,” Trixie wailed, enfolding Chrysalis in her hooves. “How could you think I wouldn't love you? You're me. The only pony who understands me. Who could ever love me back." She drew a breath, and her eyes gleamed bright with tears stilled by adoration. “Please let me please you. I want to. For me.”

It was insane, the amount of love she was getting from Trixie right now. As much as Shining Armor had ever given her. More.

“Okay,” Chrysalis murmured.

Time passed through the bare desert, and under the wheeling stars two naked, entwined ponies stole a tithe of it for themselves, and were happy.

“Tell me about Celestia,” Trixie asked, after.

“She was a murderous tyrant,” Chrysalis invented. “Still is, I suppose. I worshipped her my whole life, and then I tried to kill her.” In retrospect, that might not have been... quite the best way to present her lie to Trixie. The little blue unicorn had been good, in a way Chrysalis thought ponies might normally think of lovers. She'd never had a lover before. It was a little distracting. “To bring her to justice, rather,” Chrysalis continued.

Yes, that was better.

It'd be convenient, to have Trixie's willing cooperation when next facing Celestia, Cadance and that treacher Shining Armor. Chrysalis didn't think Trixie would need encouragement to help destroy Twilight Sparkle and the other Elements of Harmony – not that they'd been particularly troublesome the first time around.

“But I take it your Celestia isn't like that?" Chrysalis said.