Fallout Equestria: The Pact

They talked a little more, after dinner, and Marina learned a lot about Zecora, including a bit of what had happened to her. The Changeling hadn't been able to get over the fact the zebra was still alive, more than anything else: she remembered hearing about her dying during a botched robbery, but there had been all kinds of rumors about what had really happened. Some people had said Zecora was a spy, others said she would never betray them and something else had to have happened, and others still hinted that she had been lured there because that stallion had never liked her to begin with...

Zecora had smiled wryly, silently playing with a cup as she'd finally explained the truth behind what had happened: that she had been a double agent, but her loyalty had lain with Equestria. Things had gone wrong on that last mission, however, but... well, maybe it had worked out for the best, in the end. Even the part where she'd been beaten to her apparent death.

Sure, it had looked terrible. But she had allowed it to happen. She didn't die from things that would kill most ponies, due to what she was: combined with a little of her supernatural influence, she was able to convince everyone that looked at her that she was dead. Which hadn't been hard, since she hadn't been alive to begin with.

It had been a way out of the war: an escape from something that had been making her terribly tired. It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to help, or didn't feel some attachment to these ponies, but it had been getting harder and harder to conceal what she was and take care of herself while she was working so many long hours going back and forth between the ponies and the zebra.

She had never imagined what would eventually happen, and that they would end up where they were now. She wished she had done more, but at the same time, she had made peace with it, and knew that no matter what had happened, there was no way they could have stopped the calamity that had burned Equestria.

Marina understood. She had put many of her old skills to use at first, but ultimately, it had been a lost cause from the start. And in the end, well, everyone had lost: she didn't think that it could have ended any differently. Some days she wondered if they had just been looking for an excuse...

But there was no use thinking about any of that anymore, was there? Instead, she had to focus on the here and now. They both did.

They traded stories as dinner ended and day gave way to night, and Marina realized they were trading back and forth: she didn't know if Zecora had meant to initiate that or not, but here she was, telling the zebra more about herself than she had told... well, almost anyone. There had been a few ponies who had known her secrets, her stories, her eccentricities, but... all of those ponies were gone now.

Marina bit her lip, and then she asked abruptly: “So none of the stories about vampires are true, then? I mean... you're strong and fast and ageless but... you can't die? The sun doesn't... well... you know.”

That felt almost silly to bring up, but Zecora only smiled briefly, answering after a moment: “No, I am not as strong as you might think: many of my powers depend on the blood that I drink. I need blood in great quality and quantity for feats of awesome strength; and it is rare that I feel the need for such terrible length.”

She hesitated, then continued: “But I am old, and strong, and well-versed in many arts: this allows me privilege I did not have at my humble start. The sun aches and scalds, but does not burn me with her rays, and I can protect myself further with the symbol of radiant days.”

Zecora gestured at the emblem on her flank, and Marina smiled a bit at the spiraling sun, saying slowly: “So the glyph is like... powerful sunscreen.”

Zecora's mouth quirked in a smile, and Marina blushed a bit before the zebra confirmed: “Sunscreen, I suppose, is an apt enough word; I can't say it's the worst metaphor I've ever heard.”

“Sorry.” Marina said lamely, and then she rubbed at her head for a moment before she said: “I remember... my original prosthetic legs had some kind of... paint on them, and with a little practice I was able to get them to change color, at least, or put a glammer over them so they'd look different. But that paint wore off years ago... and these days, well, I'm lucky to find spare parts, let alone any luxuries like that.”

“Where have you been living, Marina, if I may be so bold?” Zecora asked, tilting her head. “You must still have a decent place to get out of the cold...”

“My ex girlfriend’s old home.” Marina murmured, shaking her head a little before she gave a small smile. “But it's at the edge of the wasteland. It's never really been a safe place, and I doubt I'm going to be able to stay there much longer.”

Zecora nodded slowly, and then she suggested gently: “The Everfree is safe and wild. For you, its dangers would be mild...”

“I... I don't know. I don't want to give up...” What? What didn't Marina want to give up? Dusty rooms that made her sad, or the moldering projects that had all been overtaken by age and mildew?

But it was hard to think about, all the same. She didn't want to betray the memories of the few ponies she cared about, and perhaps even more than that, she was afraid of change. Wasn't that funny? A Changeling afraid of change; of letting go, of moving on.

She sighed a little, then rubbed at her head for a moment before Zecora asked gently: “Radiation? Or cognization?”

Marina smiled wryly, then she turned her eyes to the fire under the cauldron, feeling the comforting heat rolling across her body before she murmured: “Both, I think. It's not... terrible. I'm only a little sick. Maybe just sick enough to make me worry about myself.”

“Here. I have something to help with that. Just wait, I'll be back in the drop of a hat.” Zecora said kindly, stepping over to pick up Marina's finished bowl before she turned and headed across the hut.

Marina watched her go, and then she licked her lips before asking the zebra, as she went to work on something at the counter opposite: “Does the radiation affect you?”

“To a degree, yes; it is part of why I prefer to avoid that mess.” Zecora answered, and then she smiled over her shoulder. “But my body regenerates in ways even yours does not; although that doesn't mean there's no such thing as too hot.”

“I understand what you mean. I guess I learned that the hard way, taking too many shortcuts through too many irradiated areas... I guess if you expose yourself too much to that stuff, it's... there's nothing you can do.” Marina murmured, before she looked up in surprise as Zecora returned with a gentle smile, offering her a small cup of liquid.

Marina took it and studied it, as the zebra said gently: “Don't give up hope. There's no need to mope.”

“I'm not moping. I just... I don't know.” Marina mumbled, and then she knocked back the drink. She grimaced at the taste, but it was cold, and the cold was welcomed by her overtired body: even more when she felt it spreading through her, numbing some of that pain as she let out a slow breath before she gave a small smile up to Zecora. “Thanks.”

“The pleasure is mine. You deserve to feel fine.” Zecora answered, and Marina shrugged a bit at this, but didn't argue. Zecora took the cup back, and Marina bit her lip before another silly question came to mind.

“So... what about garlic, then? Or the whole stake through the heart thing?” Marina asked with a small smile, and Zecora chuckled at this.

“Yes, it is true, you can ward against vampires with garlic; but it's nothing so mystical, more as if we're allergic.” Zecora answered with a slight smile. “As to the stake, well, that I've never tested... and I don't need a coffin to remain well-rested.”

“Yeah, but this whole world feels like a grave sometimes.” Marina said, unable to help herself, and Zecora gave her a mild look. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I'm still feeling a little... down. I tried so hard.”

“So did I. But why cry? All we can do is survive, and hope that one day Equestria will thrive.” Zecora reminded gently, and Marina nodded a little to the zebra before the striped mare walked back towards her, sitting across from the Changeling again as she asked quietly: “Now, what about your other need? What is the best way for you to feed?”

“Feed? You already... oh.” Marina smiled a little, looking uncomfortably away for a moment as she silently rubbed a hoof against the floor, and then she murmured: “Well, uh... you really don't need to do that for me, Zecora. Besides, uh... love is what sustains Changelings best, and, you know, it's not like, well...”

She blushed a little, and Zecora smiled at her in entertainment before she suggested almost hesitantly: “Well, would you feel better if perhaps we tried a trade? There is a certain something in which I could use your aid...”

“You mean...” Marina hesitated, looking uncomfortably over at Zecora for a moment. “You don't turn the ponies you feed off of into... vampires, do you?”

“You don't turn the ponies you feed off of into Changelings, do you?” Zecora echoed with a pointed look, and Marina blushed at how silly that sounded. “It is only a bite. As long as it remains merely a bite, without a circuit, then all will be right, and no evil will subvert it.”

“I... I would be willing to try.” Marina said hesitantly, grimacing a bit as she uncomfortably rubbed at her neck. “How much blood do you need? And have you ever been fed off of before? When I feed off someone it can make them very tired... I don't know if it would be better if I feed off you now or later, or-”

“Marina, it's okay.” Zecora said gently, and Marina smiled lamely. “We have time. I am not going to rush you into this, I promise. Think on it some, and tell me your worries: I shall soothe what I can, as best I can.”

“Okay.” Marina said, biting her lip for a moment before she said slowly: “Emotional feeding is... it's not physical, but it saps some of your essence, so to speak. You said it was a spirit that did this to you, right?”

“Yes, but now that wickedness is anchored in my flesh: my spirit should be free, and relatively fresh.” Zecora smiled a little. “I suppose as long as my essence has not aged into vinegar, you should find me no less palpable than a mare much younger.”

“That wasn't really a rhyme.” Marina couldn't help but point out.

The zebra gave her a mild look, and Marina cleared her throat and looked away before a more serious concern came to mind: “Have you ever fed on a Changeling before? Are you sure my blood isn't too different? I tried to give blood once and they said it might be toxic to ponies...”

“My body handles blood differently from most. But if you want to be sure, and you'll excuse the rudeness of your host...” Zecora slipped away for a moment, then returned with a small, needle-like knife, and Marina bit her lip before she nodded and stepped forwards as she half-rose her head, looking at the mare silently as Zecora met her eyes.

They looked at each other for a long few moments, and then Zecora gently probed the knife forwards, and Marina grimaced as it cut just beneath her neck, drawing a small amount of blood. Zecora dew this back and licked that few droplets off the knife, and the zebra closed her eyes as she murmured: “Not terrible at all... give me a moment...”

She turned away a little, but Marina watched closely even as she nervously rubbed at the small nick beneath her throat. The zebra mare licked her lips almost compulsively before she opened and closed her jaws, and Marina saw fangs, and carnivore teeth: larger, more frightening than she had expected. If Zecora dug those teeth into her...

She resisted the urge to shiver before she felt Zecora's eyes on her, and the zebra said quietly: “You don't have to be so afraid, Marina. I have learned much control... and of course, I have tools to help the process along as well. Syringes, and other equipment. I don't need to drink the blood directly, although it is... better.”

“I understand. It's like when I feed off someone versus a hive node or lovejuice. It's not the same.” Marina gave a small smile, although she felt... a little uneasy, admittedly. The air in the room had changed and she could feel a much-different aura from the zebra now: it was an unknown, almost alien sensation, almost like malice.

She understood what that really was, though: it was probably similar to the feelings ponies got when Marina took off her own mask, particularly as she prepared to feed. Because in a way she was a vampire herself, wasn't she? She sustained herself off something less physical, but she was all too well aware of what the consequences of her feeding too deeply or too often were...

She looked away for a moment, looking down at the ground before she shook her head and said quietly: “No. That won't be necessary. I trust you. I want to trust you, and... well, I guess it's not like I have to worry about turning into a vampire or anything when I'm already close enough to being one.”

Zecora smiled faintly at this as she put the knife aside, and then she shook her head as she said softly: “Still having trouble accepting who you are? And yet in spite of that, you've come so far...”

“I had to keep going. And it's not... I accept who I am.” Marina smiled briefly, looking up to meet the zebra's eyes quietly. “I guess I'm just not happy about it. I don't mind being different; I might even like it a little, but at the same time, I wish that... I wish that it didn't have the baggage it carries.”

“That is something I understand all too well.” Zecora murmured, and then she chuckled quietly to herself before she asked: “You've given me a taste... should I offer the same? Or would I be in haste?”

“I don't think it matters too much what order we feed in. And I can already feel your emotions...” Marina smiled a little again, closing her eyes, her head swaying back and forth briefly before she nodded a bit and murmured: “They're a little different, but I don't think that's because you're a vampire. Ponies are more emotive than zebras... they wear their hearts on their sleeves. You're a little more guarded, but that's from...”

She blushed a bit, realizing she was reading probably too deeply to be polite into the zebra's emotions, but Zecora only looked away as her muzzle gave the briefest quirk. Then she shook her head and returned her eyes to Marina, sighing a little before she said softly: “It has been many years since I've truly tried to trust... perhaps that was why my status as double agent was robust. But it is terribly hard to keep up the charade... and these days I feel I need someone I can trust for aid.”

“But that means trusting someone yourself. And I suppose who better than someone like me? Not quite a pony. Not quite... not a pony.” Marina smiled a little. “We might be the oldest things in Equestria these days.”

“I wouldn't go that far, my friend... some things existed in the beginning, and they will continue to exit until the end. And still some may go on spinning.” Zecora shook her head, before she said softly: “But yes, it does not hurt that we are both... different. I hope together we can more than coexist; perhaps now and then we'll go our separate ways, perhaps for hours, perhaps for days...”

“But I think all the same we can find a balance between us. More than just because we must.” Marina half-rhymed, and Zecora gave her an amused look, the Changeling mare shrugging awkwardly. “I guess you must think ahead more, huh?”

“It eventually becomes a natural thing; but I've rhymed since childhood, I know the swing.” answered Zecora, before she shook her head and Marina recognized the subtle changes that went through the zebra as she dropped out of her cryptic rhyming to answer plainly: “It was something we did in the old days. It was said to please the spirits, and that it would protect us. If creatures ever tried to mimic us, or possess us, they would reveal themselves by being clumsy in their speech, and my brothers and sisters could then take action.”

Marina smiled wryly, nodding as she mumbled: “I guess I kind of proved that, since I can never really match your speech, even when I try to. Lots of practice, huh?”

“Practice and trial.” answered Zecora, before she gave a slight smile. “And in some ways, learning your language has made it... easier. Learning your words, your language's convention, gave me many more words to draw from and better comprehension.”

“Neat.” Marina didn't really know what else to say, before she cleared her throat, then hesitated only a little bit before she asked finally: “Did you... did you want to try and...”

They quieted as they looked at each other, studied one-another, and then Zecora licked her lips briefly. Marina saw a flash of white teeth, and then the zebra said gently: “The more you relax, the easier it will be for me to feed. There will be a moment of pain at first, and then...”

Marina smiled a little, saying quietly: “It doesn't sound all that different from what we do. There's a... a numbness...” She bit her lip, then shook her head. “And I shouldn't feed too deeply. I don't want to test if you're more resilient than... than a normal pony. It could have far-reaching consequences.”

“I'm not worried about you taking my life, even if your magic can cut deeper than a knife.” Zecora said gently. “I will feed first, and you can tell me how you feel. We can rest a little, and then... you will have your meal.”

Marina bit her lip, and then she nodded and took a breath. Part of her wanted to go the easy route, but she felt a strange sense of duty, and a desire to... to at least feel what it was like. And Zecora had been such a good host to her tonight and they were making plans for the future and...

And so what? asked a quiet, bitter part of her. You don't owe her anything. She doesn't owe you anything, either. And you're tired of the world. If she kills you...

That wasn't a path she wanted to go down or think about, whether or not it was true.

She took a breath, then straightened and looked across at Zecora, saying quietly: “I think I'm about as ready as I'm going to be. So uh... if you want to go ahead and do it, then... I think now is the time.”

Marina gave a small, awkward smile, and Zecora chuckled quietly before she nodded slowly. She leaned in, and Marina felt her breath wash across her face; cool, not hot, she realized. The Changeling bit her lip as Zecora's front hooves gently touched her chest, soft and gentle, and her blue eyes gazed into Marina's green, capturing them, seeming to stare into the depths of her very soul.

They looked at one another; they looked into one another. And then Zecora leaned forwards, and her lips gently brushed past Marina's, making the Changeling flush slightly before her eyes half-lidded as the zebra's hooves slid up to her shoulders, gently gripping into her as her head tilted slightly to the side, mind dazzled by the beauty and depths of the mare holding her so tightly...

A flash of white caught the corner of her eye, and then a spark of pain tore through her body; she tensed and flexed, then let out a low, weak sigh as that pain was suffocated beneath a wave of heat that radiated through her entire form. Those hooves gripped tighter into her and Zecora's body slid closer, mare grinding slowly into mare, embracing her against her as Marina felt... a connection, a depth of understanding, a swirl of pleasure, need, and belonging as the zebra drank down her vital essence.

As life passed from Marina to Zecora, for the first time the Changeling truly understood precisely why it was that some ponies, even at the risk of their own lives, would willingly allow Changelings to feed off them. Not solely for the altruism of it, but because of that meaning, that connection, that blast of euphoria as everything that made you you was shared with, devoured by the gorgeous predator...

And then as suddenly as it had begun, Zecora pulled back, and Marina gasped a little as she was left trembling, blinking rapidly and only managing to stay upright thanks to the gyros in her mechanical limbs, breathing roughly in and out as her head hung, mane covering her face, a faint trickle of blood coming from the surprisingly-thin wound in her neck before she whispered: “Just a little more... let me be whole just a little longer...”

“You are whole, my dear. Have no fear.” Zecora said gently, and Marina blinked a bit in surprise at the fact she had apparently spoken out loud before she blushed and straightened. She felt a little lightheaded, a little wobbly, but she thought a lot of that was mental more than physical.

Zecora grasped her shoulders and helped steady her, and Marina gave her a grateful smile. She saw the faintest stain of red on the zebra's lower lip, and, not knowing why, she leaned in and kissed it, her eyes half-closed, tasting her own blood, feeling the zebra mare stiffen slightly in surprise.

Marina drew back, and the two looked at each other for a moment before the Changeling licked her lips and smiled awkwardly. They studied each other, Zecora's eyes almost intent before she gave the faintest blush as she asked: “Well, are you... well?”

“That's not much of a rhyme.” Marina couldn't help but remark, and they shared a little, awkward laugh before the Changeling shook her head and murmured: “Yes. I'm fine. I think I was just... surprised, that's all, by the... all the feelings. It's... it's very intense. Much more intense than I expected.”

Zecora smiled, and then she asked quietly: “Would you like to lay down for a little bit? Or perhaps some water: in fact, I recommend it.”

“I...” Marina felt her head swim a little, and she thought that perhaps the many long days, the radiation sickness, and the everything else was all making her a little more lightheaded than she had expected to be.

But Zecora was already ushering her gently across the room, and she didn't pay much attention to what was happening as the zebra slipped her onto something that felt comfortable, and supported her weight.

She didn't really sleep, but dozed: she came to a few hours later, feeling refreshed and much better, smiling awkwardly as she sat up on the cot in the corner of the hut. She blushed a bit as she looked at Zecora, who gazed back at her kindly before she asked gently: “How are you feeling?”

“Better. No longer reeling.” Marina answered, rubbing absently at her head, and Zecora gave her an amused smile, although Marina seemed unaware of it or what she'd said. “I think it was just... well, it's been a long few days. A long many days, actually, if you want me to be honest.”

“I do. I always want you to be honest with me, Marina. As I shall strive to be honest with you.” Zecora answered, and then she hesitated before she asked: “Would you like to feed?”

It was a blunt question, and Marina hesitated for a moment before she gave a small smile: she felt a lot better. And Zecora looked, well... “You look very... pretty.”

Zecora blinked, and Marina blushed a bit, saying hurriedly: “Alive, rather, I mean... you're almost glowing.”

“Your blood is very strong, and it has been a while since I've properly fed. I certainly feel more like I'm alive now instead of the walking dead.” Zecora answered, looking down at a hoof as she absently flexed it before she turned her eyes to Marina, saying softly: “So by all means, feel free to feed: I want you to take as much as you need.”

Marina glanced away almost embarrassedly, and then she murmured: “I don't want to go quite that far. But... I think that feeding is a good idea, yes. As long as you're okay with it...”

Zecora nodded and smiled, then asked: “How does it work best? Should I concentrate, or be at rest?”

“Relaxed is better. If... if you're comfortable with it, think about something that makes you happy, someone you cared about, something like that. I'll... try not to probe too deeply, although I'll warn you ahead of time I'll probably get a 'taste' of your memories, so to speak. So it's okay if you don't want to think of anything too personal and I'll try and respect your privacy and-”

“Marina, it is fine. I trust you.” Zecora reassured quietly, and then she closed her eyes and took a breath, straightening before she gave the mare a small smile. “Perhaps this is a chance to know one-another better. I am ready, when you want to form the tether.”

“Not a bad word for it. Alright. I'll...” Marina fumbled for words for a moment, and then she simply cleared her throat before she reached up and gently grasped Zecora's shoulders, unconsciously mimicking the way the zebra had fed off her earlier. Her horn glowed eerie green, and she felt Zecora tense up a little, which made the Changeling smile despite herself: a vampire, nervous about another vampire of sorts... but all the same, she saw the trust in Zecora's eyes, the willingness to go through with this, even if she was anxious; she was doing a better job of hiding that anxiety than Marina had ever done, though.

Magic sizzled around them as Marina delved naturally into Zecora's emotions, then she drew them back into herself, feeling... yes, it was a tether, wasn't it? She formed a connection between them as she siphoned the emotions from the zebra, and she caught flashes of memory, of a country she didn't recognize, of smiling, laughing kin and kindred.

All these flashes and more raced through Marina's mind before she blushed a bit as she drew apart, her body thrumming with culled love and emotion as she forced herself to break that link. But for a moment more, she held onto Zecora, and Zecora bowed her head towards her, breathing quietly before she murmured: “It is bittersweet. But I suppose memory... always is.”

Marina smiled briefly, not knowing what to say: whether she should thank the mare, or apologize. But after a moment, Zecora shook her head and cleared her throat, glancing up and saying finally: “It has left the strangest of sensations running through my mind... but I feel myself recovering perhaps a little faster than you did from mine.”

“Maybe that's the advantage of us feeding off each other, then: your emotions are...” Marina struggled to explain it: how, after all, could you explain to someone the taste, the malleability, the nourishment that their emotions gave? Marina wasn't even sure herself how to explain it: after all, not every pony's love was as wholesome and edible as the next's.

“I am sure that my spirit regenerates faster than most; but my ability to survive was always my greatest boast.” Zecora murmured thoughtfully, before she turned her eyes to Marina and smiled a little, asking with almost hesitant concern: “And you are well? There was no flaw in your spell?”

“No. I'm fine. Nothing went wrong, I feel strong.” Marina answered, and Zecora chuckled. The Changeling blushed a bit after a moment as she mumbled: “Sorry. Changeling reflex.”

“That is fine. I understand... I'm sure if you were to stay, in time you would see my own... quirks.” Zecora answered, and Marina blinked at the zebra, and her quiet offer.

She hesitated, then couldn't help but ask: “Are you... do you mean that maybe...”

“Well, my home is humble, but I'm sure we could expand it: and you would be more than welcome to stay; in fact, I want to demand it.” Zecora blushed a bit, then halted and cleared her throat before she said in a quieter voice: “We can benefit one another, Marina. And I have been without company for a long time and... between us, I feel there is an understanding. You know what it is like, now, to be alone for so long, and... you also know what it is like to have to... feed.”

Marina smiled a little at this, nodding hesitantly as she studied the zebra, who gazed back at her silently. They looked at one another, and then Zecora held out her hoof and suggested: “Shall we make a pact? To help one another survive, and thrive? To protect each other's lives?”

“And... to be there for one another. Because I know that this world can get to you sometimes, and make you question yourself, what you're doing... what you should do.” Marina answered, before she reached up and took Zecora's hoof, squeezing it gently. “I want to work with you. I want... this reason to continue.”

“I do too.” Zecora smiled a little at this, and the two studied each other silently for a few moments before the zebra murmured: “Then our pact is sealed, Marina: by your blood, and my spirit. Let our trade tonight show that we shall be two halves, of one whole.”

Marina smiled, and for the first time in many years, she felt as if she had found a place where she belonged.