>You wake up after a long nap.
>It didn’t take long after your last question for Chrysalis to dismiss you and go back to sleep.
>Apparently, being awake was taxing for her.
>It’s a shame. You had hoped to ask a few more questions.
>Or at least have a formal introduction.
>You had to snoop around to find out what her name was.
>She’d probably mind, but being her caretaker, you took some liberties.
>After that, you decided to lie down on one of her softer pieces of furniture, and get some sleep.
>You weren’t really that tired, but you decided that if you’re going to be the royal babysitter for what may be the rest of your life, then you’d need every wink you can catch.
>...
>That’s a scary thought.
>These may just be the last days of your life.
>Even if they don’t kill you when you’re done here, you’re out on your own with no sense of direction.
>Unless they personally escort you back to home.
>That doesn’t seem likely, though.
>Chrysalis’ voice rings in your mind. “We’ll found out when the time comes, won’t we?”
>Kidnapping was one thing.
>Being so abstruse, however, was another.
>After her explanation, you were considering forgiving her for your capture.
>But, your fate was nothing to toy with.
>Especially when hers is in your hands.
>Sadly, you're in no position to make demands.
>You sigh.
>Since you’re up, you might as well do something.
>You may be in no position to make demands, but a few brownie points couldn’t hurt, you suppose.
>Yet, looking around reveals that you’re short on tools.
>It would seem that all you have, really, is the bread that you’ve been eating for yourself, and the water that you’ve been giving Chrysalis.
>Perhaps you can convince someone to feed you.
>You’ve been fortunate that Chrysalis wasn’t able to eat yesterday, but that will probably change soon.
>A knock on the door summons you.
>Now may just be your chance.
>You open the door, poking your head out.
>A changeling waits on the other side of the door, staring at you with an expressionless face.
“Hey.”
>He falters a bit.
>”How is our queen, creature?”
“Oh, uh… She’s pretty bad.”
>He frowns.
>You let a breath out of your nose audibly.
“Any idea what’s wrong with her?”
>A shake of the head is your response.
>The two of you are silent for a moment.
“...I Need some supplies.”
>He doesn’t respond. You take his silence as a sign to go on.
>You take a moment to formulate a list.
“I need a broom, a dustpan, some clean sheets, maybe some aspirin, just in case.”
>You count the supplies on your hand, and pause before saying,
“Some food…For me and your queen…”
>Trepidation filled the last request.
>But the response seemed unintrigued.
>”What do I bring, creature?”
“More bread, some meat and water.”
>You take a moment to think if you need anything else.
“Do you guys know how to make chicken noodle soup?”
>The changeling looks at you unamused.
>As if you were making a joke.
“It’s for her.”
>The quiet in the was an awkward one.
>”I’ll see it done.”
>That’s good.
>A little taste of a classic tender-love-n’-care soup might win you some favor, too.
>You end with a, “That’s all, thanks.”
>And with that he flitters off.
>That went smoothly.
>With that out of the way, you turn to your patient.
>Still asleep.
>She’s actually kind of cute.
>Sure, she’s shedding her carapace everywhere with her mouth is open, simultaneously sucking in copious amounts of air and gradually slavering all over her sheets.
>But when you feel like Hell had a party in your guts, you’d look like that too.
>The last part can be fixed, at least.
>You take a napkin and wipe away the drool she’s starting to collect.
>There. Better.
>Anyway, cute.
>She starts to stir.
>You take your seat next to her as she blinks the sleep from her eyes.
>She coughs and gives you a look.
>”Do you always make a habit of watching mares while they sleep?” she says with her brow raised.
“Only when they’re drooling all over their sheets.”
>You waggle the napkin in front of her, and then lay it aside.
>She gives you a look that reads somewhere between caution and amusement.
>”You seem to be taking your situation quite well.”
>You reach for the water bucket.
“I doubt it would help my chances if I didn’t.”
>She smirks. You prepare for your water rituals with her.
>After the first sip, she asks, “So, then, you accept it?”
>You try to maintain a calm demeanor.
“I’m still hoping that I’ll make it out of here alive,” you admit, half-kidding.
>She chuckles. “Oh, no. We’d never kill something so precious.”
“Such as your little outworlder trophy?”
>There’s that signature grin of hers, again. “That’s just a bonus.”
>She takes another sip. You ready another round.
>“You, creature, are a source of love.”
>What?!
>You fumble and knock over the water bucket.
>With words like that, who wouldn’t?
“Are you coming onto me?!” You spurt in surprise.
>She bursts into a guffaw.
>...That devolves into a fit of coughing.
>”No, no, no, creature,” she laugh-coughs once more before continuing, “We changelings feed on love.”
>That clears some things up.
>Though more questions come to mind. More worrisome things.
>She looks down at the bucket, with some disappointment.
>You look where she looks. “Don’t worry about that. There’s more water on the way. Some food, too.”
>”Good.”
>She falls quiet, looking up at her favorite part of the ceiling.
>This goes on for a while.
>Something about this silence seems off.
>As though the weight of the air had increased tenfold.
>”We cannot let you go, creature. Like I have mentioned before, we are enemies of Equestria. Now that you know where we are, we can’t take any risks.”
“Even if I promise not to tell?”
>”That is correct, Anonymous.”
>You breathe a heavy sigh.
“Figures.”
>”Besides, even if you meant that,” She looks to you in somewhat-mock sympathy, ”And I’m sure you would--Celestia would find ways to make you talk. It’s too risky.”
>Given the circumstances, you can suppose that makes sense.
>You still have one card up your sleeve, though.
“Won’t people be suspicious when the one-of-a-kind outworlder goes missing?”
>Check and mate.
>Her response is said with unsettling ease. “They won’t even notice.”
“But--”
>”We’re changelings, Anonymous. We can take the form of anything. Replacing people is what we do.”
>You stare at her, at a loss for words.
>She continues, ”As we speak, your erasure is in motion.”
>Her words are especially chilling, now.
>”No one will know to look for you.
>”No one will even know that you went missing.
>“You belong to me, now.
>”Forever.”