"They paid for it... by winning in a casino," Chrysalis glares at 387.
"Exactly," the warrior nods.
"They won a fortune and instead of giving it to their Queen they used it to buy-"
"Let me stop you right there, Chrysalis, before your ego makes you say something stupid," 387's voice turns serious, "They have no concept of money. They didn't try to hide their winnings from you because they had zero idea about the value of what they got. Do you know how trading things work in the tunnels?"
"Obviously not. Don't ask stupid questions," Chrysalis frowns, but at this point in her and the warrior's tentatively cooperative relationship she knows that there are certain topics on which 387 won't be trying to screw with her.
"They can trade an emerald for a stick, because a drone who found the emerald had it for too long and wants to share it with others while trying out something new," explains the warrior, "Value is entirely relative to them. They figured out that to make their silly little figurines they needed various ways to enhance their resin. Because it wasn't an issue regarding the hive as such, they didn't want to bother any of us. So they won 'shinies', traded those for- you know they bought the oldest alcohol only because they wanted to leave the fresh stuff for the other guests?"
Chrysalis facehoofs, her indignant anger at not being involved in decisions regarding a sum of money that could finance standard hive operations for a long time to come dissipating.
"Keep going," she groans.
"There's not much more to say. Right now, they're mixing precious alcohol with ice creams, juices, and probably a fried chicken to make resins look... varied," he glances hesitantly at the bottle still stuck in his leg hole, "They sent you this," he puts the bottle on the doorside table.
"387, I didn't think senility has been hitting you hard enough to believe that I wouldn't catch that little white lie," despite saying that, she swipes the bottle and puts it into the fridge, "Stop by in the evening. We'll see if I'm in the mood for a bit of stargazing and... reminiscing."
"Yes, Your Majesty. And the drones?"
"Leave them be. A stroke of luck like that doesn't happen every day," she shrugs, "Is that all?"
"Just one thing - can you sense Smiley?"
Chrysalis' horn briefly flares up with green fire before vanishing.
"No, I can't. Peculiar," she frowns, "A brief check of the drones' minds is telling me this has been happening since we arrived and Smiley has always returned unharmed."
"I'll check things out anyway. Just in case."
"Do find some time to enjoy yourself, will you?"
Knowing whether or not it was you who orchestrated this entire trip would help...
"I'll try to find two minutes somewhere in my busy schedule."
"I wasn't talking about sex, you dirty dog," Chrysalis smirks.
"I guess I ran straight into that one," 387 sighs, "Have a nice day, Chrysalis."
"I fully intend to make use of this opportunity, whether it is some kind of a conspiracy against changelings or not," she telekinetically grabs a saddlebag which jingles as it floats onto her back, "The anti-shapeshifting laws are annoying, but I guess I'll visit the city today for some swimsuit inspiration."
"Do you need protection?" asks 387.
"We're changelings, 387. We can't get pregnant if we don't want to."
YOU ARE READING
They're... ON HOLIDAY?
Fanfiction[SEQUEL TO: They're EVERYWHERE!] Several years after the changeling invasion of Canterlot, queen Chrysalis gets an invitation to attend a cruise followed by a stay in a luxury holiday resort on an island belonging to the Griffon Empire. Supposedly...
