Riot Grrrl Flrrry and the Changeling Betrayer
Shining Armor wasn’t just a decorated war hero, three-time consecutive winner of Crystal Weekly’s sexiest stud of the year award, and honoree participation award receipiant for yearly spelling bees stretching all the way back to crystal kindergarten. No, on top of all that, he was a diplomat, too. And boy was the empire lucky to have a diplomat like him on a day like today.
He and a platoon of the Crystal Empire’s finest special forces pushed through the mid-day rush of Bifröst station, the largest train station north of Canterlot and the proverbial rainbow bridge to Equestria and beyond. Platforms were swept hourly and littering, spitting, and skateboarding were punishable by a twenty bit fine and stern talking-to by one of the station’s many dedicated staff. It was a beautiful station.
It would be a real shame if they had to spill blood on it.
Shining counted the platforms one by one until he reached number twenty. There he deployed his troops in two shield walls on either side of the platform, blocking both exits. Civilian commuters sensed danger and filtered out of the station by ones and twos and twenties. The trains doused their boilers. The din and hiss, the mingling of ponies and machinery that brought the station to life, faded into nothing, until all that was left was the faint rustle of armor and click of horseshoes on tile echoing in the high crystal rafters.
Shining armor adjusted his helmet. Any minute now...
In the distance came the lonesome whistle of a train.
Into the station chugged a lone crystal locomotive sporting a single passenger compartment. As the train clanged to a stop, a howl of steam erupted from its whistle. Smoke from the engine vents crept across the platform, diffusing around the soldiers’ hooves. Swords came unclasped in their scabbards. The air bristled with magic.
The door to the passenger compartment swung open. A tall, dark figure emerged. Chrysalis, queen of the changelings, most wanted creature in all the crystal empire, and one-time non-consensual lover of Shining Armor, emerged from the fog.
Her head rotated slowly, eyeing one shield wall, then the other. Her eyes blinked impassively. She looked down at her hoof and delicately nibbled at the edge, then spat the loose chitin out.
“Litterbug!” Shining said.
Her eyes snapped to him with a look that could shatter steel. Her fangs dripped with loathing. “Is that a slur?”
Shining’s ever-present confidence faltered. “Uh, no,” he replied, “the crystal empire is welcoming to all kinds of ponies. Unlike you!”
“Mm,” she replied, “of course. Anyway, I’ll need porters to take my bags.” She gestured to Shining’s cadre of warriors. “You will do.”
The warriors didn’t budge. One of Chrysalis’s long, pointy eyebrows rose. “Shining.” Her voice was psychedelic honey and poisoned apples. “I missed you. Is this your idea of a welcome party for your one true love?”
“You’re not my true love. That’s, like, totally not cool of you to say that.”
“How about a hero of the crystal empire, then?”
“You dishonor the real heroes of our land.”
“Oh, Shining,” she purred, “I love it when you sass me. But this time I’m actually telling the truth. No tricks. No army. Just a mare trying to do something nice for a neighbor.”
“You’re no mare.”
Chrysalis chuckled. Her eyes flashed pink. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
Shining was ready to leap over the shield wall and go all single-combat on her when a second shape emerged from the train car. Boiler steam curled away, revealing an unmistakable puffy pink mane. Caution flew from Shining Armor’s mind. He parted the shield wall and stepped towards the train. “Flurry! I—”
The fog fell away, revealing a Flurry he had never seen before. His mind immediately leapt to trickery—she was a changeling transitioning into its disguise, or she was wearing some sort of chitin mind-control vest, or she was being actively consumed by black ichor. But as Flurry advanced, he realized that she was not a changeling in disguise, nor was she under attack from mind control or covered in ichor. She was actually covered in something far, far worse.
Fishnets and see-through lace.
Flurry pulled out a poster and stuffed it in Shining’s face. “Seriously dad?” she snarled. “Seriously?”
Shining peeled the poster off his face and took a good look at it. On it was a picture of Flurry, along with the heading, FLURRY HEART, COME HOME THIS INSTANT. YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE. Beneath the picture, in slightly smaller letters, was, WE LOVE YOU, WE MISS YOU, WE’RE NOT GOING TO GROUND YOU
Relief and anger collided in Shining’s heart. “Flurry,” Shining said, his jaw clenching and unclenching, “your outfit is very... uh.”
“Yeah?” Flurry raised an eyebrow. “Go on. Say something about it.”
Ten variations of Take that off, it’s somehow more immodest than being naked ran through his head. He finally settled on a diplomatic, “As a princess, what kind of message do you think this outfit sends to our subjects?”
“Maybe they’ll see at least one of their rulers has balls.” She brushed past him, making sure to swat him rudely with her tail as she passed.
Chrysalis chittered a high-pitched unnerving bug laugh. “How delightful! Don’t worry, Shining dearest. I would be happy to set the record straight to any potential detractors.” Her eyes glazed over. “The sweet, musky, pendulous record.” Her wings buzzed. “Our congress was glorious. Do your insides not twitch with glee as mine do?”
“We never had any congress. The Crystal Empire is a monarchy.”
“You look even softer than the last time I saw you. Tell me, have your insides grown softer as well? I yearn to feel them. Give in to your desire, my love.”
“Enough.” Shining’s words caused the soldiers to stiffen. Their spears angled towards the bug queen’s face.
“Is this how you thank the hero who found your daughter? With a spear to the neck?”
Shining weighed his options. Killing her now would surely provoke an international incident. He was also pretty certain spilling blood in the station counted as littering, and he didn’t want to be a litterbug.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Dinner. And an audience. You and your wife will do. No advisors.”
“Worried they’ll see your traps?”
“Worried you’ll miss them?”
Shining tapped his hoof on the tile floor, listening to the lonely echo it made. “Very well,” he said. “An hour of our time as a show of good faith.” Chrysalis opened her mouth. “Under constant armed guard. And you wear a suppressor ring.”
A long grin spread over Chrysalis’s face. “You’re finally making them in changeling sizes? And here I thought ponies never learned.”
Cadance’s pacing was really getting on Shining’s nerves.
The two were in his study, a cozy tower room with slit windows for natural light. Shining sat at his desk, skimming the most recent military reports from the northern outposts. Chrysalis said there would be no military movement on the part of her changeling armies, but one could never be too sure with her. Cadance paced back and forth, her metal horseshoes clacking heavily against the stone floor.
Clack clack clack. “Maybe the clothes really are mind control after all.”
“I doubt it. We magically scanned them. It’s just...” He sighed. “Just fishnets and lace.”
Clack clack clack. “It can’t be. She just wanders off without a word then shows up two weeks later with her, of all ponies?”
“She’s not a pony.”
“Focus, Shining.” Clack clack clack.
“I’m trying." He looked up from his work and rubbed the bridge of his snout. The pressure that had been building for weeks—no, years, ever since Flurry was born and he realized that his new daughter was his world, and what on earth was he supposed to do with his old world, his kingdom?—burned behind his eyes. “Why don’t you go make sure dinner preparations are ready?”
“Giving me busy work?”
“Yeah. You’re pacing a hole in the floor.” He stood up with a tired groan and wrapped his arms around his wife. “This dinner’s gonna be a big problem. And you’re the best problem solver in the world.”
“Darn right,” she grumbled. She kissed Shining on the cheek before heading for the door.
“Oh, Cadance?”
“Yes, dear?”
“If she somehow manages to put eggs in me again, kill me first.”
On a whim, Shining took a walk to a secluded part of the castle, a little-used auxiliary wing that used to serve as Flurry’s nursery. Despite requests from the castle staff to repurpose the room once Flurry grew out of it, Shining insisted they keep it staged for sentimental reasons. The high vaulted ceilings still bore the scars of those sleepless years. Flurry had always been strong. She couldn’t help it.
He laid down on Flurry’s childhood bed and stared at the ceiling. Glow in the dark adhesive stars spread out in their multitudes, the chemicals that provided their glow sustained indefinitely by the castle’s latent magic. Black holes dotted the starfield where Flurry’s magic had carved craters in the crystal. He briefly considered turning on a wall light, but decided against it. The faint lavender glow of the castle gave the room a dreamy shine that he found relaxing. He pinched himself to make sure he didn’t fall asleep and miss dinner.
Just then, he heard a rustling sound from the closet. He rose cautiously, charging a spell. Changelings? Spies? Chrysalis making another pass?
He swung the door open with his magic. A dark figure cried out in surprise and tumbled out. Shining aimed a bolt of magical lightning at the figure but stopped short of taking the shot. The figure’s mane looked familiar. Puffy. He blinked. And pink!
“Flurry!” Shining ran to his daughter. “I’m so sorry. I thought—”
Flurry pushed him aside. “Whatever. It’s fine.”
“What were you doing in the closet?”
“Looking for stuff to cut up for new outfits.” She flashed a pair of shears. “Nosy much?”
“You’re cutting up your baby clothes?” The thought snipped Shining’s heartstrings. “Why?”
“Well it’s not like I can wear them now, duh. And what are you doing here?”
“I like this room. It’s relaxing.” In his best Princess Celestia leading voice, he asked, “What does it feel like to you?”
“I dunno. Old? That’s a weird question.”
Shining went for another angle. He resettled himself on the mattress and motioned for Flurry to sit beside him. She shook her head, but she also didn’t storm out.
“You really scared me when you ran off,” Shining said.
“Shocking.”
“Sweetie, it’s not crazy to think your dad cares about you.”
“How could I forget? You freak out when you’re not hovering over me constantly.”
“How could you say that? I love you.”
“Okay dad. Sure.” A light sparked in her eyes. Shining knew from experience that a scheme was afoot. “I got a question.”
“Anything.”
“Why does it always have to be me?”
Shining frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you have an entire kingdom to run. Don’t you have anything better to do than get up in my business?”
“No, actually. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. To me and the kingdom. You’re our future.”
“Then why don’t you let me breathe a little? Everytime I try to do my own thing, you’re all, no Flurry, that’s bad for our image. No Flurry, you’ll start a war.”
“You may have started a war.”
“Good! At least then you’ll have something else to obsess over!”
Shining felt like Flurry was three years old again, trying desperately to say something in toddler-speak but unable to articulate her point. She gets that from her dad, he thought. “I know you don’t mean that.”
“I do. You go totally overboard whenever I do anything you think is out of line for a princess, whatever that even means.”
“Well, like it or not, you are a princess.” He heard his voice rising and reigned himself in. “We all have responsibilities.”
“Is yours humiliating me in front of the entire kingdom?”
“How do I humiliate you in front of the kingdom?”
“The posters, dad!”
“We needed to get a message to you somehow. You didn’t exactly leave a phone number for us to call.”
“The posters were not cool, dad! They were like... lame! Lame and bad.”
“Flurry—”
“And performative. That’s the word I was thinking of. Performative.”
“I have to be your dad, Flurry. I have to take care of you.”
“You don’t need to call in the army when I start dressing differently!”
Shining felt his voice rising again, and this time he couldn’t reign himself in. “Different would be wearing a blazer instead of a cardigan. You went straight to fishnets and lace!”
“I wish I wasn’t an only child!”
The whole castle resonated with the faint chiming of a clock. The two paused their fight to count. Chime... chime... chime... chime... chime... chime...
Shining bit his lip. “This dinner has to go well. I know you’re upset—”
Flurry cut him off. “Ugh. Whatever. Snore. Go do your thing, prince.”
“You need to be there, too.”
Her tone turned mocking. “Sure! Totally! I’ll dress up all prim and proper for the changeling who almost ovu... ov...” She screwed up her nose and spoke slowly, “Oviposited you to death.”
“Flurry!”
Flurry stormed out. The same pillow she kicked earlier happened to be between her and the door. She kicked it again. She couldn’t help herself.
Dinner was purely ornamental. For Shining and Cadance, eating at a stressful moment such as this was unfathomable. For Chrysalis, it was a more practical issue: changelings didn’t have stomachs.
“Please accept our apologies,” Shining said in a measured voice. “We don’t have changeling gelatin on hoof. Is there—”
“What happened to it?” Chrysalis cut him off. “I left several tons of it behind when I left.”
“When your invasion was repelled,” he corrected.
“Yes, well, nevertheless, I refuse to believe you could have eaten it all in such a short period of time.”
“We didn’t—ew. No.” Shining nearly gagged at the thought. “We scraped it up and burned it.”
“Hmm.” Chrysalis took a fancy glass of water in one hoof and swirled the liquid around. Then she poured a little bit out onto the table. “What a waste.”
“Is... there anything else we could offer you for dinner?”
Chrysalis considered the question. “Changelings don’t have stomachs,” she finally said, “we have a cavity used to absorb minerals from our naturally-produced gelatin.”
“I know.”
“Then why ask what I want to eat?”
Shining huffed. “You were the one who recommended dinner.”
“I only assumed dinner would be the proper informal place for a frank discussion, equine-a-equine.” She studied her reflection in a soup spoon before “But if I must fit in... Bring me a chicken.”
Chicken. Shining relaxed somewhat. They kept a few chickens in a pen in the castle basement. Mostly it was for visiting griffon diplomats, but if that’s what Chrysalis wanted, then what kind of gracious host would he be if he said no?
“Chicken. Great. We have a chef on staff whose Poulet à la Provençal is like, totally mythical.”
“No.”
“No? Would you like it prepared another way?”
“No. Poulet means poultry, and poultry means the bird is dead.” She leaned back in her chair, smiling. “Feel me?”
It took Shining a moment for the meaning to sink in. She’s getting under your skin, he thought to himself, but even the most deft assessment of the situation didn’t douse the anger welling up inside him.
“I feel you,” he said through gritted teeth.
A few painful minutes later, dinner was served. Shining prodded a wine-poached pear and tried to ignore how similar in color it was to raw meat. Chrysalis was unceremoniously given a single live chicken by the head chef with a crisp, “Bon appétit.”
Chrysalis, seeming satisfied with herself, set it on the table and ran a hoof gently over its speckled feathers.
“So here’s dinner! Just like you, uh, wanted,” Shining said, eyeing the chicken with worry. “First of all, let me formally thank you for finding our daughter.”
Chrysalis shrugged. “Anyone with eyes could have found her. She’s bright pink.”
“Well, all the same, we’re grateful that you came all this way to bring her home.”
“Where is she? Shouldn’t she also be here to thank me?”
“She’s... getting ready.”
“Did you tell her to take off the fishnets and lace? Fishnets and lace are very stylish in the hives right now.” She scratched the chicken on its little head. “Yes they are,” she cooed. “Yes they are.”
“She’s been going through a rebellious phase lately. I’m sure you can relate.”
“Oh, quite!” Some of the ice seemed to melt from Chrysalis’s icy veneer. “Every changeling in my hive is my child, in a way.” She paused. “A literal way. I birth them in batches. But birthing someone and being a mother are two very different challenges.”
Cadance chose this moment to jump in. “That’s a very astute observation. Kids present a wide variety of challenges.”
“Yes! And it’s doubly hard for you ponies because you don’t kill your young for disobeying.” She laughed. The chicken let out a fearful cluck. “Such a fascinating culture you have.”
Cadance sank into her seat, effectively cowed. Shining’s brow furrowed. That was a slight—right? But before he could fire back, Chrysalis pounced on the silence and oviposited it with a loaded, “What do you think of your daughter’s new look?”
“Uh.” Shining stabbed at his food a little harder than necessary. “If we’re being honest—”
“I’m sure you will be!”
Gods, she was loving this. He could hear it in her voice. “If we’re being honest, I think it doesn’t really gel with what we’re trying to do here.”
“Ponies are naked most of the time, no?”
“Yes. Clothes are quite suggestive.”
“But you bundle up when it’s cold.”
“Yeah, but it’s all about context. A scarf and a choker are two very different things.”
“Very true. So you didn’t like her choker?”
“I—huh?” Shining stabbed at his poached pear and missed. The scrape of silverware filled the air. He turned to Cadance and hissed under his breath, “Was she wearing a choker at the station?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered back, “I wasn’t there, remember?”
“Aah,” Chrysalis said, “but a good father is blind to the beauty of his daughter. Except he’s not, not even a little. How does it make you feel having a daughter with the same coat color as your wife?”
“Excuse you. That’s weird.”
“Do you ever see her in the corner of your eye and feel, oh, I don’t know, something other than fatherly joy? I’m just a filthy love-sucking parasite, but I’ve tasted that sort of feeling before, and it’s not love.”
“That’s enough. That’s not cool of you to say.”
“Hah! Not cool.” She nuzzled the chicken, who let out a nervous squawk, sensing the bug queen’s teeth behind her close-lipped sneer. “I always knew you were incapable of playing coy, Shining, but you’ve really outdone yourself with all this.”
“I’m trying to be diplomatic.”
“Why? You hate me. You want to run a spear through me the same way I want to run my proverbial spear through you.”
Shining stood up. “That’s enough.”
“And you hate what I’ve done to your daughter! You hate fishnets and lace. You hate her and she hates you, and it’s all my fault.”
“Any more of this and I’m canceling dinner. Without dessert.”
“Oooh, I’m shaking. By the way, I lied just now. It’s not my fault your daughter is the way she is. It’s yours.”
The dining room door slammed open. Shining cried out in surprise. Cadence practically leapt out of her skin. Chrysalis beamed.
Flurry Heart emerged, trailing a narrow cape of black velvet twice her length. Ornate black lace covered every part of her body except the parts that, in theory, one would want to cover. She had two chokers on—two. The tips of her mane were dyed changeling-gelatin green. She sneered like Chrysalis did, minus the fangs.
“I’m here,” Flurry announced, “or whatever.”
At that moment, Chrysalis casually stuck the chicken’s head through one of the holes in her arm, set the razor sharp inside edge against its neck, and twisted. The head came clean off. Blood sprayed across the table and Flurry. The chicken, no longer possessing the capacity to think about decorum or manners, ran to Shining’s side of the table, where it bled on him profusely.
Flurry Heart looked down at her dress. Her mouth opened. Shining thought she was going to scream.
“Sick!” she cried out. “I mean. Uh.” Her face fell into a nonchalant scowl. “Hardcore, or something.”
Chrysalis stood. Shining primed a shield spell.
“Down boy, I’m still your dinner guest,” she sneered. “I did your daughter a favor. I showed her the world beyond the padded cell you’ve been keeping her in. Now I ask the favor be returned. Host three of my daughters as your honored guests for the next six months. They will live in the castle and be educated beside Flurry. They will be like her sisters.”
Shining nearly swallowed his tongue. “Host,” he repeated, slowly, breathlessly. He coughed aloud. His insides clenched. “They’re grown, right? Not like—like—” He gulped. “Eggs?”
A predatory smile slithered across Chrysalis’s face. “Well... now that you mention it...” It might just have been the fear, but her whole body appeared to pulsate. In a low, husky voice, she drawled, “When you recall that moment, can you smell it? Does the scent of our congress still linger in your mind?”
Shining’s breath hitched in his throat. “No eggs.”
“You could carry my brood instead. Gestation is only three months. You wouldn’t show. What are three eggs in your belly compared to three snakes in your den? You’d be doing it for your family.”
Family. The word lit a fire in Shining’s chest. Chrysalis had miscalculated. She’d reminded him what gave him strength. “No eggs,” he said again, his voice stronger. “Not ever again.” Before Chrysalis could get a word in edgewise, he stood up and leveled at her a glare of knightly rage. “You invaded our kingdom. You tried to steal our lives. You humiliated me. You nearly killed me. And even after all that, I was willing to give you a second chance.”
“Because you can’t get me out of your head,” she countered with a flick of her serpentine tongue.
“No. I did get you out. And now somehow you’re back, and you took in my daughter—a child—in a moment of vulnerability because you thought you could use her to manipulate me. Well, I have news for you. She’s stronger than that. We are stronger than that.”
The leering smile morphed into a smirk. “Are you going to imprison me? Kill me?”
“No.” His eyes narrowed. “We’ll host your daughters. We’ll teach them how to love. Maybe in time they’ll teach you how to love too.”
A choking blanket of silence fell over the room. Chrysalis and Shining locked eyes across the table, a silent stand-off. Cadance prepped an attack spell. Flurry stared at her dad with the sort of awe usually reserved for little fillies watching their dad lift something they had tried and failed to lift themselves.
Chrysalis broke first. “Very well,” she said, tossing her mane over her shoulder dismissively. “Your word binds you.”
Shining’s eyes flashed to his daughter. “And they have to be Flurry’s age.”
“Fine.”
“And you only send one.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“Deal.”
Flurry’s face remained stoic, but her brilliant pink wings buzzed in unmistakable excitement. “Sisters,” she said under her breath. “Sick.”
