You can hide anything in a book if you really put your mind to it.
If there was ever one thing she could say she respected in ponies—aside from that rather pesky talent they’d developed to outwit and ruin her schemes, of late—it was their talent for cramming so much detail, so many raw emotions into story and song. Visions carefully painted by master craftsponies so touched by the hoof of the muses to create such feeling for characters who weren’t real, mere figments of their own little minds. It was that sort of prowess she could indeed give salute. And why not?
They’d certainly given Chrysalis an idea or dozen for her own schemes in her many, many years.
Oh, sure, she’d hit that aforementioned rough patch in recent years, but after over a century of successful conquests and feasts throughout the lands, the deposed queen would argue she could be afforded one or two missteps. Besides, who was she up against those previous times?
The gryphons? Great warriors, yes, but easily enticed to fight amongst themselves while wily changelings slipped in and devoured their villages from the inside. Diamond dogs? The diamonds they so adored were brighter, and that was definitely not clever hyperbole. Yaks? Oh, dear, how difficult could impersonating their lot be, with all their smashing?
The deer who dwelt in the forest, well, they could be a challenge with their spells and connection with nature, so she hadn’t chanced it with them. Same with the zebras, those accursed sorcerers of the desert.
Ponies, though, she had never expected to accomplish anything of the sort. And to be entirely fair, none had.
Until her.
Certainly, she’d lost to another since, but had that little pain in her rear used wit or pure determination to uncover plans for a wedding turned into a delicious changeling buffet?
No. She hadn’t. Twilight Sparkle, on the other hoof, had done it herself.
Thus why Chrysalis, deposed Queen of the Changelings, deigned to take this form and cram herself into this most ungraceful space, crowded and squeezed from all sides as though the proverbial walls were closing in around her. In a sense, they were. Perhaps when she had the little princess under her thrall and feeding her with love and magic, she would to do away with a few of her quirks.
Namely, any that made laying in wait so uncomfortable.
Though her ears were hidden, Chrysalis could still hear the telltale tinkling of magic through the air, followed by a sharp squeaking creak of the door hinges as her target sauntered into the library without a care in the world. More importantly, without noticing that something was amiss.
The mare’s happy humming brought a thrum of satisfaction to her chest. In a good mood. Excellent. Her patterns suggested this would work quite well in Chrysalis’s favor. A happy Twilight was one willing to venture over to the romance and fantasy section of her vast—by any standards, dear love, how did she fit it all in one room?—collection to pick out some leisure reading. So long as this wasn’t a research day, of course.
If Chrysalis still had a mouth, it would’ve been watering. Lunch time at last.
So long as Twilight didn’t resist her charms and overlook her as she’d done the last couple days. But today, Chrysalis was feeling lucky.
And famished. Definitely famished, so if that prissy little princess didn’t pick her queen like the good little morsel she was, there would be consequences.
Even if she was brighter than the average prey, Twilight Sparkle was still a pony. Just one Chrysalis wouldn’t mind keeping around for fun and, naturally, use as a good lackey.
Honestly, who could blame her? Evil masterminds and competent minions didn’t exactly grow on trees, nor did the young crowd seem all that interested in having a good time scheming to overthrow harmony, like they had in the good old days. Intelligence and power were a precious commodity in this day and age.
That the old fool, Celestia, had trained Twilight Sparkle so thoroughly and then left her in such an open place to be plucked was a gift Chrysalis was loathe to refuse.
Not to mention, she was quite appealing to observe and study.
Oh, who was Chrysalis kidding? She was going to keep Twilight one way or another purely because she was as brilliant as she was beautiful, and loyal to a fault. The perfect recipe for a good bride.
“Hmmm.” Twilight’s voice, youthful and sweet as honey, sounded out, her warm breath ghosting pleasantly over the disguised queen’s spine. It took all Chrysalis’s self-control to withhold an anticipating shiver. “Which today, I wonder,” she mused aloud.
Talking to herself. In another life, another universe somewhere, Chrysalis might have found it adorable. She likely would’ve crooned and fawned and teased her senseless at the habit. In this, though, it was at very most endearing.
Mostly because she still had to be picked.
Fortunately, there was a trick or two she could pull. It was a good thing she’d chosen this form, rather than the others. The plain print on their spines would’ve made this a bit too conspicuous. The little flicker of changeling magic that sent a shimmer of green along the golden, flowing lettering was well-practiced, the closest thing to that enticing glint of sunlight off the title of one’s favorite book. Just enough to draw the eyes like a moth to open flame.
It was too bad she couldn’t risk a dash of her hypnotic charm to seal the deal without giving the game away, or the mare would’ve been wrapped around her hoof already.
“Trotham Knights?” Twilight mused as she wrapped a warm tendril of magic around the disguised queen and pulled her off the shelf, then idly traced a hoof along the spine. “Fantasy, heroics, romance for a daring stallion hero and a mysterious cat burglar. It’s been quite a few years.”
A few years? Not so far out of memory to dilute her fondness for the tale, but just enough to make the little details nice and fuzzy. And Chrysalis had been cunning enough to study it and think up a few good alterations here and there to really season those heavily emotional sections.
Perfect. That anticipating shiver again threatened to make itself known, but she beat it back. Chrysalis was positively thrumming, her belly so longing to be filled with delicious love as she was floated through the air.
For an instant, she dared to let her eye on the bottom cover open, the slitted green pupil glinting with delight and ravenous hunger as she eyed the little mare carrying her toward a solitary table situated in the center of the room. Her designated reading table.
That Chrysalis was practically chittering in excitement like some nymph ready for their first solo feeding was both a testament to her patience and need for nourishment, as well as the prospect of her plans finally coming to fruition.
Twilight Sparkle laid her down upon the table beside a steaming mug of Earl Neigh and opened her to the first page. From memory, Chrysalis called up the words, the artwork, everything just as it was in the book she replaced. And judging by the waves of delicious, filling love rolling off the young princess like the tides, she’d done and chosen quite well.
And with each of her pages turned, each word she wore read by that delicious young princess, Chrysalis could feel Twilight’s love growing, fond memories of the tale no doubt stoking the fires within her chest. Just as had been the design of every changeling— only herself now—since the dawn of time.
Why not change one’s face to become more appealing to get what was needed? It was hardly like any other creature would give love to a monster.
The Princess of Love’s claim against her had been quite clear on that matter.
This form, then, was perfect to hide her appearance and lure whatever fond, loving memories of nights spent reading alone conjured in the young mare. So delicious! So filling! So very raw and all directed at her—oh, how long it had been since she didn’t need to drain some terrified snacks simply to get by!
And yet …
It just wasn’t enough! She wanted more!
She needed more.
Which meant it was time for some artistic license. That stupid stallion spent too much time hiding secrets from the mare anyway.
Really, stupid pony or not, there were no words to describe just how utterly dense this Moonless Night character could be. The blasted mare stole and caused a ruckus all over Trotham to get his attention, or helped him out of dangerous situations against some of the more deadly villains or monsters that haunted the darkness in his city. All that, all the times she would come sauntering by with a brush of her shoulder against his flank and little flirt of the tail beneath his chin, damned near begging him to just drop pretense, cast aside his silly mask, and get on with the relationship.
But no. That stupid stallion would just do his little vanishing act the minute she took her eyes off him, delaying the inevitable as well as what could only have been a veritable feast of love and passion.
The story could do with a good dash of spice.
Her first was a little addition slipped into one of their usual rooftop meetings, those scenes full of banter and such tension to spark even Chrysalis to growl that they just kiss already.
So, with a little selective editing, one night atop the King Chemical Plant building that opportunistic mare made her move.
Pale moonlight caressed her sleek form, trailing that tempting, tight black suit and pointed ears, lingering upon her supple hips and flank before trailing merrily down her raven tail like the hooves of an ardent lover. And surely there would be no small number of stallions who might fight for such a right.
By the way her delicate lips curved into that inviting smile and jade green eyes sparkled like stars, she knew it all too well. Tonight, those eyes said, would see the cat finally pluck that pesky bat, that scowling, brooding stallion who haunted the nightmares of every creature who dared skulk in the dark, out of the air to play as she wished.
It took only a slight effort on his part to withhold a smirk. Always the same old game, the same end goal, so much like the cats she adored. In another life, perhaps she was one of them, or one of the bipedal species to the south.
With a smile like that, there was little doubt Midnight Bliss—or Catmare, as she was so fond of calling herself—would’ve taken it as a compliment, and perhaps a bit of a challenge.
She certainly looked as though she thought herself about to sashay through Trotham with its dark avenger wrapped around her hoof.
“I never knew you had such a singing voice, brooding boy,” Catmare purred, sauntering toward him with a sensuous sway in her hips and tail. A hypnotic little dance she’d so perfected. “I thought Enchantress might demand an encore performance to get Torquoise and Lapis back.”
The bat pony turned away, feigning mild disinterest. “I’ve had plenty of time to familiarize myself with some of the more scholarly unicorn mages. The Old Ones, as they call Enchantress’s sort, are quite devoted to bargains.”
“And asking for more would’ve broken it?”
“In their terms, yes.”
Her laugh was as sweet and melodious as chamber bells. “Wow. Just think if the creepos today were like that.” She circled him, trailing her shoulder and tail along his sides. “I’d have never thought to double cross Terror Talon that time we had you cornered in the mines.”
Ah, memories. The first time she’d turned on another criminal for him.
“Perhaps.” Thankful for the cowl covering his charcoal gray cheeks, namely the rosy hue threatening to fill them. “In any case, I’d say our deal has come to an end.”
“Oh? Has it?” Catmare paused before him, feigning a pout. “And here I thought we were having such fun!”
“I helped you save the fillies, you returned the diamonds. We’re square, as far as I’m concerned.”
It was right about there where Chrysalis started to actually feel sympathy for the poor mare. Here she was, all but throwing herself at this blockhead—by love, the only thing she could’ve done to make it more obvious would be to have a flock of pegasi fly by with literal banners!
A feeling shared by Twilight Sparkle—and quite gratifyingly so.
“Bloody stallions,” Twilight sighed, taking a long sip of tea. “You have how many degrees and masteries and a reputation as the greatest detective in the world, but you can’t take the hint to actually follow through?”
Truly, a mare after her own heart. But Chrysalis needed love, not frustration at the characters, even if she did sympathize.
Her edit was slipped in as smooth as silk.
Catmare gave a theatrical sigh. “Stallions.” Shaking her head, she continued her circle, albeit with a sharp flick of her tail across his nose. “And here I was thinking I’d give the tall, dark, and handsome stallion in my life a token of appreciation for helping me save my little sisters.”
The usual song and dance, then. Tried and true, and always such a delight. Which meant this was the part where she’d flounce off into the night until the next time she cooked up a scheme to get his attention.
And per tradition, he just had to sneak once little glance over his shoulder. The one little slip into temptation he’d grant himself while under the mask.
Instead, he found himself nose to nose with a decidedly smug Catmare. Those jade eyes glimmered with naked glee, a purr sounded from the back of her throat as she nuzzled him, then gave an affectionate lick from his chin to the tip of his nose. “See you soon, handsome,” she whispered before dashing off into the night.
Moonless could only stare agape, his cheeks burning and snout tingling along the spot she’d licked.
Twilight Sparkle hummed, and enough confusion seeped into the love for the story that it nearly made Chrysalis gag. “I could’ve sworn she didn’t pull that trick on him until later. Or in another book,” she muttered. She drew in another long sip of tea as the disguised queen prayed she would just shrug and take it as a lapse in memory.
As if there was some higher power or ancestral circle of queens stirring things in her favor, the young princess did just that.
With a shrug and another hum, she said to herself, “Must just be my memory slipping. Probably been longer than I thought.”
Yes! Yes, this was perfect. Well, not quite, but her plans were still on track and that’s all that mattered! Just like that whole mess leading up to the wedding.
Chrysalis would just improvise again. Better this time! There would be love, all the love she desired!
So much delicious, delicious love.
To that end though, she did a bit more speed editing on the fly. A few little additions, lingering thoughts or shifts within the narrative to bring Moonless’s thoughts to linger on that sensuous thief a bit longer in some places. In others, his mind would wander on those lonely nights deep in the cave he called his home base.
All in line with her previous edit, and not entirely changed over from the flow of the original story. Just pushed up a bit sooner.
Chrysalis would think her desire for a quicker payoff quite relatable in this case, given her own prey kept huffing that Moonless Night should pull his head out of the sand and do something if he was going to keep meandering in such a manner.
Ever the gracious, ravenous queen, she was quite happy to seize on that desire in order to reel Twilight Sparkle in for the feast.
His vision blurred and dimmed at the edges. Moonless could hear the telltale crackling of hanging wires lazily drizzling a shower of sparks, the scent of smoke and fire burned his nostrils as he struggled to clear the cobwebs. Pain wracked his body, every inch of skin. He tried to move forward, to crawl just a few inches to get out from under the fallen slabs of concrete.
A lance of pain bit into his calf, just above his ankle.
“Noctis!” a mare’s voice called, muddled as if it came through a haze. Yet it sounded familiar. “Noctis, if you can hear me, call out! Where are you?”
“Midnight Bliss?” he slurred, blinking blearily.
A horrified gasp made his ear flick. “Dear Celestia, Noctis! Hang on, I’m coming down! Don’t try to move anything!”
Don’t move. Easy enough. Moving hurt like hell anyway, anything that meant less pain was just fine with him.
Jester was already down, somewhere. Stupid clown. If he hadn’t killed himself with his own idiocy this time, Moonless would be shocked.
Her magic lifted fallen slabs of concrete off his body. Catmare—Midnight Bliss was at his side, tugging her mask off to reveal her beautiful face, that lovely dusty blue coat and raven mane. Those enchanting jade eyes of hers showed no sign of that usual playful spark.
Just fear and grief. For him.
Midnight cradled his head gently and held him close against her chest. Her shoulders shook, her ears splaying as she buried her face in his chest, right where an acid-filled water balloon had eaten through part of his body armor. With a strained sob, she pressed her lips against his, tears rolling down her snout to dampen his cheeks.
When they parted, he stared a moment. “You came back.” Moonless let out a pained groan. “Thought I told you to take the fillies and get out of here.”
“I dropped them off at home and came back, you idiot. Did you really think I’d leave you alone with that freak with how he’s been lately?”
A fair point. Jester’s obsession had gotten notable enough to alarm quite a few of his rogues.
None more than Midnight Bliss.
Despite the pain, Moonless Night couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander as they’d done so many times of late. To her, of course.
To them.
He forced himself to lean up, a pained grimace marring his features even as he reached up with one hoof to caress her cheek, the other …
Midnight Bliss’s jaw dropped. “Moonless Night?”
“What the hay?” Twilight dropped the false book and backed away from the table. Love and admiration for the characters burned up and gave way to confusion and disbelief, and just a hint of betrayal at the story itself. “Okay, it hasn’t been that long—that definitely never happens in the Trotham series!”
It doesn’t? Chrysalis wrinkled her snout. What sort of love story didn’t end with that sort of thing? That was the epitome of cheesy, sappy endings for the hero and his mare. Why the hell wouldn’t it?
“No! It doesn’t, you—wait a minute.” Twilight took a step back. White hot fury stung Chrysalis’s tongue. “Books don’t print new words at will,” she growled.
Time stopped.
Chrysalis had half a second to curse herself for her failure before that perceptive little mare who had ruined all her best laid plans once already hit her with a spell which tore away her disguise.
She shrieked and writhed, howling indignantly as she tumbled off the table and landed hard on the crystal floor. “Oooooh! Ow, that does hurt,” Chrysalis slurred. “Ow. I thought they were just whining when they came back complaining about that one after the invasion. My carapace feels like it’s on fire.”
“Chrysalis!” Twilight hissed.
The fallen queen glanced up and nearly winced at the furious alicorn standing over her, horn lit and another spell at the ready. She’d been outmaneuvered. Clever.
The love she’d already stolen wouldn’t do much against Twilight. Too bad she hadn’t been able to stockpile a batch from lovers fawning over her as she’d planned.
With only a bit of humor, the changeling raised her hooves in show of surrender. “That idiot seriously never unmasks for her?”
“Never.” Twilight’s wings flared in challenge. “Nine books. Not once.”
“That’s ridiculous. The mare adores him and he loves her. What sort of sadist would deny a lover their true face?”
“I’d think a changeling, of all creatures, could understand that question. Then again, unlike you, he’s a hero, not a monster.”
Oh, there was that word. Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “You say I should understand in the same breath you call me a monster for the same thing. A bit hypocritical, aren’t we?”
Her horn glowed brighter, hotter. “You say after you sneak into my home. Feeding on my love for the story?” At Chrysalis’s nod, she offered a mocking smirk. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t find some poor soul to trick into worshipping you?”
“I prefer one with power—you.” Chrysalis rolled over onto her belly slowly so not to earn a taste of whatever that spell might be. Her eyes glinting, she rose to stand at full height. “A little story to endear you and gain enough power to bring you under my charms, so you might be more easily swayed when I returned in pony form with the power to hold you under.”
“You should have done more research into my reading habits.”
“I did. Unfortunately, academic text doesn’t lead much to love, in my experience.”
“Then I live to disappoint you.”
Chrysalis arched a brow. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Twilight’s smirk turned so deadly, so smug Chrysalis almost wanted to plant a kiss on her lips and offer her a place as a fellow evil mastermind. “I love research. If you want love from romance novels, you’re better off bothering Rarity—at least, you would’ve been.”
“Damn. That’s upsetting.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes again and sighed. Time for the usual way with these heroic ponies. “I suppose this is the part where you blast me through a wall or summon your friends to run the hideous monster out of town before she makes off with your foals.”
“I—wait, excuse me? What? Hideous monster?”
“Your own words, Princess. And your delightful sister-in-law’s. Well? What are you waiting for?” She drew an X over her torso. “Go on, then. Get on with it.”
Twilight’s glare lost its heat. Her young face screwed up in a mask of confusion, and she let her spell fizzle and die. “No, hold on. Neither of us called you hideous. Monster, yes. Hideous? You’ve done a lot of deplorable things, but at least have the decency not to put words in my mouth.”
Delightful, she was playing moralist.
How Chrysalis just despised that gig.
“Don’t condescend, Princess. You’re far too young to be that cynical.” Buffing a hoof against her carapace, she fixed Twilight with a tired look. “It’s written upon your face, it’s the same reason my kind must change appearance to receive any love from yours. The same reason I took the form of one of your beloved books.”
“I—what—excuse me?” Wrinkling her snout, Twilight took a step back. “I was friends with your son before he changed, you dolt! That’s not even why we called you a monster!”
“Your Princess of Love was quite happy to label me as such.”
“Because you trapped her in a cave, hypnotized her husband to be—my brother, by the way!—and planned to devour everypony’s love and magic! Appearance had nothing to do with it!”
Now, that was new. Scoffing, Chrysalis pursed her lips and decided to humor the little princess. Anything to get a little amusement before she became one with the wall. “Oh, really?” she drawled. “Then, please, elaborate on that thought.”
Twilight’s brow arched. “On you being a monster because you kill? I thought that simple enough.”
“No, dear, I got that part. Though I’m amused you’ve all given that lunatic, Discord, multiple chances and label me a monster in the meantime.” With a winning smile, she inclined her head and leveled Twilight with a smoldering look. “I meant my appearance. If not monstrous, what would you describe it as, hmmm?”
That she lacked a camera to capture the moment Twilight Sparkle was stricken dumb only took a little away from its sweetness. Oh! How the little mare sputtered, her wings flared out with feathers bristling and ears splayed back!
Or the rosy pink hue coloring those mulberry cheeks.
Adorable, even to a changeling. Chrysalis could just nip those ears all day. Risking a face-full of magic in exchange for a bit more play would be well worth it.
She sauntered toward Twilight, her hips swaying and tail swishing just like that delightful cat burglar. Those glimmering emerald eyes locked with the young princess’s and held her transfixed. No charm magic, she didn’t have quite enough in the tank for that, and it would only earn her that spell before she could have fun.
But there was nothing wrong with a sultry look full of promise for pleasures and delight unrivaled.
Chrysalis circled her prey, trailing her body along Twilight’s side, her tail across her flanks, until she stood shoulder to shoulder with the smaller mare. Leaning down, she blew a cool breath across the tip of Twilight’s ear and gave a low, rumbling purr. “If not a monster by appearance,” she whispered, “what, then, makes this little princess sputter and blush so?”
“Sh-Shut up!” Twilight stammered, averting her gaze to the floor. The taste of embarrassment and—oho! Was that … no! Oh, that was just rich! “Whatever your appearance,” the mare continued, “your actions are what makes you a monster. Full stop.”
“And again, Discord has broken the minds of how many ponies and made this world his own personal funhouse, not to mention what I’ve heard of his efforts to aid Tirek, of all creatures.” The deposed queen shook her head. “The mad god helped the bane of magic, and he still walks free.”
“He showed an interest in reforming! More than anypony can say for you!”
“Oh? Is that all? Then, little one, convince me.”
“Wha—hey!”
Chrysalis moved fast. She cupped Twilight’s chin and drew her up until she had to stagger on her hind hooves, guiding the young princess backward until they were pressed up against the wall. Smooth, polished carapace played against warm, soft coat.
That delightful blush deepened to a rather lovely shade of red and began to creep to the nape of her neck.
“No pony has spoken honestly of my appearance,” she murmured, fixing Twilight with a half-lidded stare. “I wonder, what is it you see when you look upon me? What is it—” Chrysalis bared her teeth in a sultry, fanged grin “—which makes this little mare taste of embarrassment and ardor when asked such a question by this monster before her?”
Twilight Sparkle swallowed. “Get out of my house.”
“Answer my question.”
“No. Get out or I’ll throw you out.”
Instead, Chrysalis leaned in closer until their noses were but a hair’s breadth apart. “Make me,” she purred. “Or perhaps you’d like to tell me just what about my appearance stirs such feelings within you?”
At last, those amethyst eyes flitted away from Chrysalis’s own, for but a bare instant. Enough to catch the mare checking her fangs and pointed teeth, the forked tongue running along her lips, and began to drift just a bit lower before the mare jerked her gaze back to her eyes.
The tips of her ears turned a deep red.
The most fearsome and striking features are the most alluring, I see. A satisfied purr rolled in the back of her throat. And an appreciation for the feminine form and dominance as well. Delicious indeed.
It seemed the little princess had interesting taste.
A good thing they lined up with Chrysalis’s own, and she had to admit that even without charming her, Twilight Sparkle was positively delightful to have in such a state. Wrapping her around Chrysalis’s hoof without magic …
Well, that would just be fun.
Chrysalis made her decision then and there. She cupped the little mare’s cheeks in her hooves, then turned and captured those delicate, soft pony lips in a searing kiss which drew a startled, shuddering gasp.
A little probing of her forked tongue turned it into a needy croon as her trembling hooves slid up Chrysalis’s carapace to wrap around her neck in a loose embrace. Her wings fluttered and feathers fluffed, her tail lashed against the crystal walls as she tried to stand on the tips of her hind hooves and press up against her captor.
They parted, panting for breath. Those amethyst eyes wide and full of passion.
By love. “Mine,” Chrysalis murmured.
Twilight licked her lips and blinked owlishly. “I—you can’t—no one else.” She shook her head jerkily, her eyes still full of that wonderful fire. “No more hurting them.”
“I am what I am. A predator.” Chrysalis drew in close and licked her slowly, from chin to the tip of her nose just as Midnight Bliss had done Moonless Night. “Any who threaten my territory will know my fangs.”
“You don’t have—” a sudden turn and nip at her neck turned her words into another needy croon.
The follow up lick up the side, all the way up her cheek until that forked tongue trailed the outer edge of her saw her knees buckle and sent a shiver through her body.
But it was mere words which made her cling so.
“I do,” Chrysalis whispered. “You are.”
Four limbs wrapped around her as tight as lampreys. Oh, this was worlds better than any hypnotic charms her changeling magic could work.
This would be more fun than she’d enjoyed in ages.
“Okay, first off, when I said details, I didn’t mean those details, Ladybug. Second, ew.” Across the kitchen table in the Palace of Friendship, Cadence wrinkled her snout. “I didn’t tell you about my first time with Shining. That was all you walking in at two in the morning.”
Wincing, Twilight tried to banish those memories from her mind. “How was I supposed to know what a ribbon on his door meant? I was ten! And I didn’t even know you were there!”
“Fair point, but unless you want details of your brother and I in bed, don’t give me details on you and her.” Cadence shuddered. “No offense, but I still don’t know what you see in her.”
“I take great offense to that,” Pharynx deadpanned, eying his brother’s teacup as though he suspected poison. Then again, with his mother about, it was quite possible. “She’s duplicitous and wicked, but she’s still my mother.”
“You laid with my mother,” Thorax muttered. His deep purple eyes bored into Twilight’s, a mix somewhere between horror and foalish disgust at the notion shone within them.
She squirmed. “In my defense, I had a bit of a thing for her before I knew you.” At their stares, she held up her hooves. “What? I like fangs! My first time was with a bat pony and I liked when he would—”
“Finish that sentence and you’ll be frozen and forced to listen to Shining and I tell you about every detail of foreplay on Friday nights.” Cadence’s eyes flashed dangerously. “With charts.”
Twilight’s jaw shut with an audible click of teeth. It was true that there were many things in this world she wanted to learn, many things she would search out and study until there was no truth left to uncover.
But until the end of time, she would be quite happy to pretend Flurry Heart had been dropped off by Celestia after Cadence had put in a mail order.
“Good girl,” Cadence drawled. She took a long sip of tea. “So, you and Chrysalis. I’m … well, shocked, to put it lightly. Concerned, still.” Pausing a moment, she turned to add to Pharynx, “For Twilight’s safety, I mean. And the town’s.”
“Oh, that I understand and share. We are still allies.” To that end, he eyed Twilight. “We can offer guards to keep an eye out for her tricks, if you like. Oh, brother, your tea was not poisoned.”
Thorax merely blinked, his gaze still locked upon Twilight. “You laid with my mother.”
“Yes, little brother, big ponies and changelings do that. Drink your tea, it will help with the shock.”
The King of Changelings moved as if in a daze to take a deep sip. When he finished, he looked no less disturbed. “I …” He shook his head. “I never wanted to think of her having relations at all. Much less with a friend.” Thinking on it a moment, he glanced between Pharynx and Twilight. “How many can we spare?”
“Eight.” Pharynx drained his glass in a single gulp. “I do not look forward to the arguments on who goes—they’ll all want to stand between mother and Twilight.”
“Make it twelve, please.”
“Done. Four less arguments for me to have.” He blinked, then groaned. “Or four more.”
Twilight huffed and folded her hooves over her chest. “I’ll have you know, other than her little penchant for sneaking up on me and—” stealing a glance at Cadence, she coughed and amended her statement, “stealing me away from duties for a few hours and a rather concerning fixation on things coming anywhere near Ponyville, she’s been quite well-behaved.”
“Has she?” Cadenced asked.
“Well, the territorial attitude is rather …” trailing off, she turned to Thorax and Pharynx and brought a hoof to her forehead. “She mauled a timberwolf and ate its heart because it went chasing after some foals who wandered too close to Everfree Forest a few nights ago.”
The changeling brothers shared blank looks, then shrugged.
“That’s pretty normal for us,” Pharynx said.
Thorax raised a hoof. “In fairness, we both ate a grizzly last month for trying to maul a few nymphs.”
“Mmm, yes!” Pharynx licked his lips with his long, serpentine tongue. “It was delicious.”
Bile stung the back of her throat. Twilight washed it and the remnants of her lunch down with a long sip of tea. Dating a changeling didn’t quite do away with the vast difference between their kinds.
It did make things quite interesting on their own version of Friday nights, though.
That alone was enough to make Twilight wince and curse. Trust Cadence to know exactly how to ruin a good thing with threats of details.
The troublesome mare herself blinked. “Also, hang on, how did you know all those details?”
Twilight ducked her head. “Once she gets talking, it’s hard to get her to stop. And she loves talking about her, ah, schemes. In great detail.”
“Ah, I see. Well, it’s your life and I’ll support your decision, Ladybug,” Cadence said finally. “Even if I’m not thrilled at your choice right now. Who knows? Perhaps she and Shining and I will find ourselves able to be in a room without trying to kill one another some day.”
“I’m not certain the hive will be as supportive,” Thorax grumbled. With a sigh, he brought a hoof up to massage the bridge of his snout. “But if she makes you happy, for whatever reason, you’re my friend and I’ll support that.”
“If she makes you unhappy, though, send us a message through a fire path. I’ve already got a few volunteers who ‘wanted a word’ on your behalf.” Pharynx flashed a fanged grin. “Speaking of, where did she go?”
Twilight had to cover her mouth to hide a laugh. “Well, this morning, a bunch of foals came running into town in tears because the local diamond dog pack tried to drag them into their caves to mine for gems.” She calmly set about refilling her cup with a happy little hum. “When Chrys heard, she abandoned our morning couch time thirty minutes early and had them lead her out to the quarry so she could have a little chat.”
The trio blinked once, then shook their heads and sighed.
It was Cadence who summed it up best:
“I almost feel sorry for them.”
