Madame Butterfly

Sinisteed

Okay.

Okay.

So, he was in love with Fluttershy... Fluttershy, even the sound of her name was lyrical, that beautiful, demure pegasus with such fascinatingly clear eyes, deep as the blue sea, and-

He felt it, it physically hurt, as the love ripped its way out of him.

When ponies said their hearts were bursting out of their chests with love, they hadn't been kidding.

Motherbucking ow.

It was also exceptionally bad news. No need to panic, he told himself. You've sucked up a lot of splashback from Cadance's and Shining's love-powered anti-changeling wave, and topped off on enriched royal jelly. That much love would've lasted him for months. Now he'd be lucky if it lasted days, and if he ran out of stolen love to give then Fluttershy, his beloved Fluttershy – ow – would suck the life right out of him. All that'd be left would be a shell, the empty husk of his carapace, and there'd be one less changeling in Equestria. Still, no need to panic. It was normal for a changeling to feed their Queen; however... however... Queens usually provided safe environments for their swarms to feed in. Canterlot, site of a recently-foiled changeling invasion, was as far from a safe environment as he could imagine. Plus... Fluttershy wasn't his Queen: Chrysalis or Celestia or Cadance was. It was wrong to feed a queen who wasn't your Queen. There wasn't a word for how wrong it was to feed somepony who wasn't a Queen. Fluttershy wasn't even a changeling – as far as he knew, anyway.

Immediately, he turned to study her. Looking at her wasn't a chore. She was so very beautiful, and he loved her so much-

Ow.

He didn't have that sense of a swarmmate being nearby, but that didn't mean she couldn't be a changeling.

Sinisteed put that possibility aside. It was a difficult assumption to operate with, and experience had told him it wasn't that likely anyway. He was usually right.

In any-case, it seemed he was now obligated to find somepony to feed on – in a city roused to the threat, where changelings had recently been exposed en-masse. Still, it might be all right.

After all, so long as Fluttershy didn't do anything too adorable, he wouldn't need to drain off all that much love.

“Oh come on!” An impatient voice said, in a tone convinced of its own awesome self-importance. “Taking too long! Stand back, everypony!”

Sinisteed's eyes slid regretfully from Fluttershy's beautiful face – ow – to where the Rainbow-maned pegasus was poised to leapt, pawing eagerly at the ground, her wings thrumming like a hummingbird's, a look of intense concentration in her eyes. “Stand way back,” she said.

“It'd really be better if you did,” Fluttershy whispered, so quietly nopony without a changeling's hearing could've heard it - certainly not from across the throneroom. She studied her hoof intently, scuffing it against the floor. “Um, if it's alright with you, that is.”

Of course it was alright with him. He wouldn't pass up any chance to be close to his – ow – beloved, suiting his actions to her words as he hurried to her side.

“Um, Sugahcube?” Applejack said.

“Busy!” Dash shot back, pressing against the ground as she stretched and cracked her wings.

As it happened, Sinisteed started a trend – and as her guardsponies backed, a worried look came to Celestia's eyes... until they came to rest on Dash, and widened in something that looked a lot like fear.

Twilight Sparkle saw it.

“Rainbow, wait!-”

Dash launched herself as if shot from the Pink pony's party-cannon - and how did that even work, anyway? He'd only narrowly avoided being on the receiving end of a spray of confetti during the battle of the plaza, and many of his broodmates had not been so lucky.

The rainboom hit halfway down the throneroom, and the shockwave slammed him – blessing of blessings – headfirst into Fluttershy, his body pinning her to the marble floor.

"Go Dashie!" Pinkie shrieked. "Woo!"

Hypervelocity Dashie hit Celestia's cocoon... and then there was light.

He protected his Fluttershy's beautiful, vulnerable body from the Rainbow's blast.

She blushed. “Sorry,” Fluttershy said, turning her head away. “I know it's not very nice inside my head. I don't know why everypony thinks I'm such a nice pony. I swear I've never done that to anypony before. Just to...” her rosy blush turned luminescent, “monsters,” she finished in a whisper. “Sorry."

She paused, looking straight at him.

"I didn't mean to stare you. It probably only worked because you're a changeling,” she said. “You don't have to love me. If you don't want to.”

Ow.

CHANGELINGCHANGELINGCHANGELINGCHANGELING

Chrysalis

Endless desert had given way to terrain shot through with v-shaped valleys. Today, they'd reach Gemstowne. They'd forsaken the road, which any reasonable pony would expect to be patrolled, in favour of the rock strewn, scree-sided canyons. At least there was shade, for night had passed, giving way to dawn beneath the light of a sun untrammelled by the horn of any alicorn.

Yes, Chrysalis reflected, she and Trixie had been the only horny ponies beneath the stars last night.

“Did the earth move for you, too?” Trixie asked.

“It wasn't... bad,” Chrysalis admitted, her eyes half-lidded. “For a first attempt.” Trixie blushed crimson, very obvious against her blue coat, and rather attractive. Apparently, sex – good sex – was also good for relaxing ponies. Trixie had seemed rather wound after their training session, and that was no good thing on the eve of battle. “But, since you're asking if I felt the earth move-”

The earth moved.

“-Felt that,” Chrysalis said, beating her wings for support as the ground rocked beneath her.

“Woah! Equestriaquake!” Trixie said. “Uh, I mean, earthquake. Never felt one that strong before. Whether they dig or raid for gems, damn lizards are always causing trouble. You don't get drill-tailed dragons in Equestria – even the great wyrms are too afraid of the Princess. Princesses.” Trixie smiled wanly. “But you get tremors all the time in the borderlands. I've been feeling them since sunrise, but I didn't think... I can't get used to the sun here. It shouldn't change it's track like that. Say what you like about Celestia, she keeps the sun in line, and all her little ponies safe-”

The ground trembled, again. Pebbles bounced from the lip of the canyon, clattering to its bed.

"We'd better get out of here," Chrysalis said. "If there's a landslip-"

"-we'd be buried alive," Trixie said, and shivered.

Chrysalis could taste her fear. It was moments like this, Chrysalis reflected as they began to climb, when the ground was trembling and the fall steep and the hoofing uncertain, that imponysonating an Alicorn was really bucking useful. She had wings and magic, and as Cadance she'd been able to actually use both. Being Trixie really sucked. If only Trixie'd been in love with a nice mean Pegasus, instead of a self-obsessed narcissist-

Trixie slipped.

She shrieked, as she skidded rump-first across the surface of a boulder, and it became a scream of true terror as she tumbled head-over-hooves off its edge.

It wasn't a long way down to the floor of the canyon, maybe ten ponylengths, but in this barren wasteland a turned fetlock could be fatal, if Trixie didn't crack her damnfool head open on a rock or snap her horn clean off.

Chrysalis caught her in a web of magic.

On the other hoof, if she'd been imponysonating a pegasus, Trixie would be a smear right now.

She was surprised at how much that thought bothered her.

“Um, ahahah,” Trixie giggled, and Chrysalis didn't need her changeling's ear to know it might as well be screaming. “Trixie thanks you. If you could put Trixie down now, Trixie would appreciate it.” Her gaze slid across the rocky terrain that'd almost been the undignified end of her, eyes widening and pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She'd been imagining, Chrysalis knew, a glorious death in battle – and this little tumble had brought the grim reality back to her. “Up there,” Trixie gestured, “would be ideal.”

Delicately, Chrysalis floated Trixie to the promontory she'd indicated on the canyon's lip. The little blue unicorn was made of sterner stuff than she'd imagined.

“Thank you,” Trixie said, settling her cloak around her and floating her fallen hat back to its rightful place atop her head.

“If you wouldn't mind,” Chrysalis said, posing herself suitably for a telekinetic lift.

“Right,” Trixie said, gaze sliding back and forth across the other Trixie. “No problem,” she said, with little laugh. She probably wouldn't drop her alternate self... “You know, Trixie isn't sure she's quite up to it after her little spill,” she said, “so maybe it'd be better if you, you know-”

“Hoofed it?” Chrysalis said. With her wings, it'd be no problem. As it was... the scramble was clearly hazardous. She hadn't stayed Queen of the Swarm by taking unnecessary risks... but she hadn't become Queen of the Swarm by passing up opportunities just because they were dangerous, either.

“Fine,” she said, “but if you wouldn't mind not looking. I don't want you seeing me looking undignified.”

“Too late,” Trixie grinned, relief at survival blending smoothly into arousal and flirtation. “Trixie's already seen Trixie that way.”

“In the mirror,” Chrysalis teased back, then wondered why she'd bothered.

“That, too,” Trixie said, smiling. “Trixie meant au naturel, and beautiful.” Chrysalis felt the hit of affection feed her, all the way down to her hooves, and it felt good. “But alright. Trixie will turn her back, and go far enough away you won't get distracted staring at Trixie's plot and fall.” Trixie shuddered, and Chrysalis could taste the sour seasoning of fear on Trixie's love for her. “Just be careful,” Trixie said, as she turned and trotted away up the bluff.

For the first time in days, Chrysalis stretched her gossamer wings.

That felt good.

She fluttered them.

Oh, yes... just like that...

With the wingpower-assist and her changeling manoeuvrability, she was up the slope faster than even the most nimble-footed mountain goat.

Standing quite still, her azure coat blending into the azure desert sky, Trixie looked like she was meant to be part of it. She did indeed have a nice plot, framed pleasantly by her star-spangled flank-length cloak. Her platinum tail swished from flank to flank as Chrysalis approached, and the changeling queen ran her tongue over her fangs. Trixie had shrieked so sweetly when she'd scraped them across her-

Chrysalis crested the bluff.

“What do my eyes see,” she murmured.

It was vast. Vast like a forest, vast like a city, so vast she couldn't accept of it being one thing, but rather an agglomeration. It had to be something without purpose, something whose only purpose was to be itself, like Canterlot, which was made up of buildings and roads and ponies, who all had reason and motivation of their own, but Canterlot's only role was to be Canterlot.

“It's just a device,” Trixie said, her voice an awed whisper. “Just a machine.”

Yes. A machine, Chrysalis's thoughts cantered on. This thing had clearly been made, ponyfactured from pieces and put together with intent and purpose. She realised she was babbling, in her head, but she could no more stop it than halt the cogs or gears or bucket-wheel of the monstrosity that filled the sky before her.

“Like a train or a snowplough or a still or a wagon,” Trixie continued, still awed. Or terrified. Chrysalis wasn't sure. Her own fear was keeping her focus elsewhere. On the machine, not her companion. “Or a dragon. It must be a thousand hooves high.”

“And three times as long,” Chrysalis murmured, finally finding her voice. “Inconceivable!” Yet clearly it had been conceived, and designed, and drafted, and wrenched from the page into reality through the effort of hoof and claw... what had she thought she was doing, to challenge ponies if they could envisage this? What conceit had its designer had, and what skill to make their conceit real?

For the first time, Chrysalis felt humbled.

Fortunately, it passed quickly.

“Trixie,” Trixie said. “Trixie it's, it's... it's coming this way.”

Strictly speaking... the device... the machine... the mechanised monster... was turning towards them. It's 'feet', it's great interleaved wheels banded with vast metal links, were almost stationary, crawling barely faster than a pony could walk. Or so it seemed. The scale of the thing was daunting and disorientating. It was its torso that turned, and with it its great long latticework neck, and the giant jaw that ended it, a vast bucket toothed wheel, each one edged with wicked fangs filthy with earth. Each one suitable to eat a pony with one bite.

“Perhaps we should run?” Trixie suggested. Pointless. The thing was so large, it couldn't possibly be interested in them. Besides, its torso was so far away. No matter how long its neck, it couldn't possibly reach the bluff where they stood... couldn't possibly... reach... “Trixie...” Trixie said, backing away. “Run!”

The bucket-wheel slammed into the bluff, not a dozen yards from where they stood, and began to chew upon the earth. Chrysalis could see their teeth slashing out into the canyon behind them, as the bluff was wholly eaten away, no more than one mouthful for the great machine.

She and Trixie had to flee, but the ground danced beneath their hooves. Chrysalis spread her wings, felt them bite the air, giving her lift, giving her freedom, the freedom to flee, for them to flee, her and Trixie... who stumbled, and fell.

Trixie went tumbling down the slope towards the churning teeth of the fearsome machine.

She had to flee, had to fly, had to... had to... to...

She dove after Trixie.