From Chrysalis to Butterfly

You've failed everyone.

The Changeling Queen gritted her teeth, wishing she could bare them at the nagging voice in her mind.

What sort of queen do you think you are?

She scrunched her eyes, trying to block out the sound by cutting off her vision.

They wouldn't be starving if you hadn't been such a fool.

Having a mind's eye must be so much better than having a mind's ear.

You know they're going to kill you.

No they aren't, Chrysalis thought desperately. They are my Changelings and I am their queen.

It went on as if she hadn't spoken a thought. Right now they're outside that door. Mutinous. Cover your ears, here comes the battering ram!

Chrysalis did as the voice said. Maybe she could become deaf to the voice as well as the banging.

You know what? Don't fight them. Let them drain you once they kill you.

The queen tossed and turned; she should be able to be comfortable physically if mentally was impossible.

You know you deserve it.

And then the door gave way. Hundreds, no, thousands of Changelings poured in, battling each other to get to their queen. They swarmed over her, biting her, gripping her, pulling at her ears and mane and tail. They smiled greedy little grins and laughed nasty little laughs. Oh, the queen had taught them so well. Taught them to pounce and prey and fight and drain and kill. She should be so proud.

The queen whimpered. They took this as an invitation to jam their hooves into her mouth, crushing her teeth into her gums to pull themselves onto her head, reaching at her horn, licking it, teething at it, all the tiny things they knew the queen hated. And she screamed, and the Changelings went running.

The queen didn't have much time. Shaking the nightmare from her sleep-dazed mind, she sat up, stretching briefly and half-leaping out of bed. She ran a hole-ridden hoof through her tangled mane, smoothing it down with a twitch of her horn.

Can't let the others see me like this, thought the queen, rushing to answer the furious knocking on her door.

"We heard Her Majesty shriek." As soon as the door was half-opened the metallic drone of a Changeling's voice interrupted Chrysalis' troubled thoughts.

Flustered, the queen struggled to compose herself. "Don't trouble yourselves. It was nothing."

The Changeling raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Suspiciously? Maybe her subjects could feel after all.

"Is Her Majesty sure?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Her Majesty was not sure.

"It was nothing, I am sure. I heard nothing of the sort. Whatever it was, it wasn't here."

The Changeling nodded. "Very well. We are eager to assist Your Majesty whenever you should call."

Chrysalis slapped on a smile. "It is much appreciated." She shut the door gently, resting against it as her subjects took their leave. Her smile then faltered and vanished completely, replaced by an annoyed frown. She hated it when the Changelings acted this way: so false and stiff and insincere. It didn't matter whether or not they truly cared. She would've rather known how they really felt about her, be it good or bad. Chrysalis was a Changeling, the same as any of them. She just had a powerful position.

Chrysalis walked slowly to her mirror. She loved mirrors. Only problem was she saw herself in them. Which was okay, except for when she'd just woken up.

Using her magic to run a comb through her mane, Chrysalis sighed lightly. She glanced at the clock: nine a.m. She'd slept in again.

Hitting herself, the Changeling queen magicked open her curtains. The sun burst into her room, flooding it like a tsunami overpowering a weak village. The queen was a wreck as she looked at herself in the new light—when had she last slept? Really fallen asleep, woken with the sun and not with a dream?

But maybe the dreams were better. At least then she was waking under her own power and not whenever Celestia chose.

The Changeling Queen opened her door again, letting in a draft. The loose wind felt good, a nice break from the stale air she'd grown so used to. Outside surely felt even more free, but that could wait. Chrysalis had been locked in her room for so long, she'd need to readjust to light and breeze and all the other elements she'd missed out on.

Resisting the urge to morph into her casual Changeling form, Chrysalis headed toward the palace dining room. She was sick of hiding herself, sick of acting like anyone else—especially that do-good pony Cadence.

It took only a quick glance at the fancily set table with towering heaps of pancakes, buckets of strawberries and fruit salads, stacks of crepes and waffles drenched in maple syrup—plates upon plates of omelets, easy-over eggs, boiled and fried, varieties of homemade cereals and granola, dusted with sprinkles flavored joy or love—it took only one glance for the queen's stomach to start swaying, her nose to crinkle, overwhelmed, her throat to sting as she felt stomach acid bubbling slowly into her mouth and forcing half-digested meals of broth and expired emotion from her lips. Chrysalis struggled to swallow the vomit before it really started, choking back the bile and dashing for the bathroom.

She spent an hour in there. Half of it was actually throwing up, half of it was waiting to fight back the pains. She spent an extra hour expecting them to come back again.

But eventually Chrysalis had to face the fact that she couldn't use an upset stomach as an excuse to hide in the bathroom all day. And who knows, maybe it hadn't even been the food that had caused it! Maybe all she needed was a little fresh air.

Rising uncertainly to her shaking feet, Chrysalis gave her wings an experimental flitter. Nope, no nausea. Should be safe to move now.

Glancing at her mess with distaste—she could have one of the servants clean it—Chrysalis stepped cautiously into the hallway. It was empty. As soon as the Changelings had heard of the queen's illness, they had fled to their rooms until it was over—no one wants to be in a sick pony's way. And the queen was grumpy when she was sick. A grumpy Chrysalis was not a fun one. If she was, they would've called her fun Chrysalis instead of grumpy.

Enjoying the lonely, eerily quiet and somewhat peaceful feel of the palace, Chrysalis headed towards the gardens, taken a route that would lead her away (far, far away) from the dining room. The garden out back was had a simple and chaotic mood at the same time. Were there many plants? Yes, but the only things they grew were considered weeds in Equestria. Well, the Changelings, Chrysalis included, found them not only beautiful, but tasty as well. No, they wouldn't make up for emotion—no solid food could ever come close—but many had tastes good enough to convince Chrysalis she'd never had an upset stomach in the first place.

Of course, no matter how good a plant could taste, nothing could make the queen try one, at least not at the moment. She'd fed purely off of Shining Armor's love for so long that she'd become a bit of a snob--even envy or lust would be plain to her.

She'd have to adjust to the blander foods as well.