The queen squirmed comfortably on her seat. It was impossible to squirm uncomfortably on it, no matter how much Chrysalis would have preferred it. The miserable carpenter who had built her throne knew her business when it came to rocking chairs, chippendales, and other homely artifacts of plebeian sloth, but knew nothing when it came to the art of crafting a proper throne. A throne should be as cold, severe and unyielding as its occupant, not ergonomically tilted and strategically cushioned for best lumbar support! And it should not have any legs!
She would gladly have extended that point to the carpenter herself as well, but the queen could not afford to waste resources now. She had no proper hive yet. Just a handful of soldiers and about twice as many thralls, the latter earth ponies for the most part. The fools had rescued an exhausted half-dead pegasus mare from the desert, and had been richly rewarded with the chance to aid the queen’s return as her brainwashed servants. She wondered at first if she had bitten off more than she could chew, for she had never tried to control this many creatures at once. But this lot was somehow even more simple-minded than average, and all it took was a rousing call of “APPLEOOSA!” to leave any passing caravans satisfied, and to send them scurrying off full-gallop to boot!
It was tempting to be patient. To wait until her brood had grown more numerous before seeking her revenge. To play it safe. But no. Safety was an illusion as long as her enemies ruled the world. And in any case, even this sappy little Every-Night-is-Bingo-Night corner of Cowtipping Nowhere could never provide enough love to fuel her needs. An empire needs to expand or die, even a tiny one. So expand they must.
“CHANGELINGS! My children. My true children…” Yes, that sounded right. Feed their need for affection, while inspiring fear and hatred for enemies they had never met. “You have grown strong and beautiful, and the world calls out to you. Can you hear her? Can you taste her? She is so ripe and succulent, and she is begging for a bite!”
Blank stares met her. She frowned. Her old hive would have been buzzing so furiously in their excitement she would have needed to shout to let herself be heard. She blamed the ponies. In better days she would have raised the first batch herself, then relegated the task to her lieutenants. But she had been so busy taking over the town she had to rely on pony nursemaids just to manage. “Our enemies may seem almighty, or think themselves so, but today you set off to teach them otherwise. They thought us broken and done. Fools they! You cannot break that which has no shape! Try to beat it down, and you only forge it all the stronger”
More empty stares. The queen facepalmed. “GO THE FUCK OUT THERE, SEDUCE SOME PONIES, BRAINWASH THEM AND BRING THEM BACK AS SLAVES, OR I’M GONNA GET MR. THINGY OUT AGAIN!”
The terrified changelings vanished in a fury of buzzing wings, only to reassembly in a neat single file before the draft sergeant’s desk!