//------------------------------// // 53: Diamond in the Rough // Story: Death of a Queen // by Arkane12 //------------------------------// Chrysalis marched through the door, drawing the attention of the medical team sitting nearby. Doctor Heart sat in his armchair apart from the group, head hung, eyes closed. “Can we help you?” the nurse inquired. He slipped a bookmark onto the page before setting his novel aside. “Leave,” Chrysalis ordered, surveying the trio with a hard edge. Shrinking beneath the changeling’s withering glare, the group looked to Celestia, then to their mentor. The slightest nod from the doctor set them to work gathering their things. Once they were gone, Chrysalis returned her attention to the doctor. “You, too,” she said. The doctor raised a bored eyebrow in response. “I need to recreate the magic I used to wound her,” Chrysalis explained. “I would kindly ask for privacy so I might focus on my magic.” The doctor looked unamused. He didn’t budge from his seat. Instead, he bowed his head, returning to his sleep-like posture. “Didn’t you hear me, Doctor? I’m here at Princess Twilight’s command. I don’t think she would take kindly to you interrupting me. Leave me to my work.” Doctor Heart cleared his throat. Chrysalis waited impatiently for him to speak. “You have no intention of making this easy, do you? Fine.” Chrysalis closed her eye, drawing in a deep breath. “I need to speak with Celestia. Privately.” She heard the creak of wood and stiff joints, followed soon by a closing door. When her sight returned, she found the doctor’s chair empty. Now alone, she made her way to Celestia’s bedside. The equestrian monarch had blankets pulled up to her neck. Her already generous size was bolstered further by the layer of bandages, visible even through the sheets. A web of dark veins crept across her face, easily visible in the patches where her fur had fallen away like the last snow of winter. “Hello, Celestia.” She didn’t answer, of course. Though a quiet voice in her head prayed the mare would offer some wise words, Chrysalis knew the truth. Still, simply facing down the sins of her past brought her the slightest shred of ease. “I came to speak with you, if you don’t mind.” You sound like an idiot. “I had a few questions for you. Questions that have weighed heavily on my mind these past few days . . . and I could really use your help.” Even if she were awake, do you really think she’d help you? “Celestia . . . I need to know why you saved me. At first, I thought it was some sick twisted victory for you. You and yours took everything from me. And when the time came, you couldn’t even let me die in peace. After everything I’ve heard about you, I realize just how far off the mark I really was. But even after all this time, I’m not any closer to understanding.” Maybe she simply didn’t realize how big a mistake it would be to save you. “No.” Chrysalis shook her head. “You’re not an idiot. You understood the risk you were taking. You had to. I suppose now, it really doesn’t matter either way. You’re in bad shape, Celestia. Twilight is doing her best, but I don’t know if she’ll be able to save you.” Chrysalis pulled up a chair. “I’m trying to make the best of the second chance you gave me. I really am. But it’s difficult. Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s all just . . .” Wrong? “Wrong. What the hell did you do to me, Celestia? Did you poison me, too? Was this all some scheme of yours? Why? What’s the point of any of this?” Her whispers grew to snarling barks. “Was this your revenge? To turn me into this . . . this thing? To make me care about you? To make me sit here and mourn over your pain and the terrible things I did to you? Well, you know what? Your plan is stupid. What about Luna? What about your ponies? What about Twilight? Did you think about them before you pulled this stupid little stunt?” Chrysalis stared at her hooves through a blurry lens. They were quaking in her lap. “Do you even care about them? Why did you leave this all to me? How could you be so selfish? Answer me, damn you!” Her voice had grown to unrestrained shouting. “You win! Is that what you want to hear? Fine! I admit it. I admit defeat. You win, Celestia . . .” Her words cracked, slinking back down to near silence. “Just . . . wake up. Please. Equestria needs you. Luna needs you.” Since when do you give a damn about Equestria? About Luna? “I . . . I . . .” Say it. “Twilight . . . needs you.” Chrysalis broke. “She loves you, you idiot. No matter what she says, I’ll never be the right one for her.” The truth reverberated through the empty room. A cloud passed over the sun. “That's it, isn’t it? It was always you. It was always going to be you. I’m simply what she wants, not what she needs. I’m nothing more than a shadow she mistakes for the real thing. So that’s it. You win.” Don’t feel too bad. It was never a fair game. “I’m sorry, Celestia. For everything.” “Alright, Twilight, everything is set up,” Spike ran a rag down his claws, cleaning the spilled potion off them. “I think we finished just in time for dinner. You want to head down and grab something really quick?” Twilight stared out the window of her study, watching the moon as it crept over the horizon. “You go ahead without me, Spike,” she said without turning from the window, “there’s a few things I still need to get done.” Spike joined her at the window. “Are you worried about her?” “No.” Twilight shook her head. “I’m pretty sure Luna’s had her sense knocked back into her for now. I don’t think we have to worry about her.” “I’m not talking about Luna, Twilight,” Spike said, unamused. “Then I’m not sure what you mean. Who else would I be worried about?” “Chrysalis?” “Why would I be worried about her, Spike? I’m sure she’s fine.” “Alright. Suit yourself, Twilight. I’ll tell one of the servers to bring something up to your room.” He started for the door. “Thank you.” After the door closed, Twilight rose. With her magic, she closed the curtains. She passed through the room eyeing each of her experiment setups before switching the lights off and following Spike’s path out the door. Instead of making her way down to dinner, though, she returned to her bedroom. It had been empty for hours, leaving only the shadows to greet her as she opened the door. For a moment, she stood on the threshold, hesitant to step forward into the dark. “Twilight?” The princess turned toward the voice. “Evening, Rarity. I didn’t think anyone else would be up here.” “I was looking for you, actually.” “Did you need something?” Twilight asked. She hadn’t intended to sound hostile but couldn’t muster the energy for her usual perky enthusiasm. “The girls wanted you to join them for dinner. I was supposed to invite you, but little Spike seemed rather adamant that you had other plans.” “Yeah.” Twilight scratched at her mane. “I was probably just going to have dinner delivered to my room for tonight. I’m not really in a social mood.” “I see.” Rarity nodded understandingly. “What about you? Why aren’t you with them?” “I went ahead and had an early dinner. I had set some time aside tonight to catch up on some of my newer dress designs. I’ve been struggling with them lately.” “You know, Rarity, it was kind of you to come all the way to Canterlot to check on me, but I’ll be alright if you have to leave and get back to work. You girls can’t just put your lives on hold for me forever.” “Don’t worry yourself about us, Darling. I’ve been known to hit a snag in my work from time to time. But . . . I have been known to get over it quicker with a bit of help from a close friend?” Twilight could swear Rarity was batting her eyelashes. “I don’t know about tonight, Rarity,” Twilight muttered. “You have other plans, then?” “I was probably going to do some reading.” “Twilight, I’m decently confident that you have read every single book in that room.” “So?” Twilight huffed. “So why don’t you come help me figure out some of my designs? In fact, I have a specific dress that I’ve been meaning to get your opinion on.” “Rarity . . .” Twilight groaned. The unicorn took Twilight’s hoof in her own. “I promise that it will just be the two of us. I really need help. Don’t make me beg you.” Her face melted into an adorable pout. After all the years of friendship between them, Twilight still couldn’t tell if the tears gathering in the fashionista’s eyes were real or not. “Alright, Rarity.” Twilight’s body heaved with a sigh. “I guess I can spare some time tonight to come help you. But I want to leave before the girls come back to the room. I don’t know what Spike will tell them during dinner, and I really don’t want to be fussed over tonight.” Stars appeared in Rarity’s eyes. “You won’t need to worry about them, Twilight. I have told them that I am working and do not wish to be disturbed. They wouldn’t dare interrupt me. Which in turn means that no one will even think to look for you there.” “Your workshop?” Twilight asked. “You want to go all the way down to your boutique?” “No, of course not. I have set up a workshop down in the guest rooms. You’ll see. So, what do you say? Shall I have company for the evening?” Twilight glanced back into the dark bedroom and frowned. “Yeah. I guess that’s alright.” “Splendid. There’s no time to waste, then.” Rarity released Twilight’s hoof and cantered off back toward the stairs down to the guest rooms. Twilight took a moment to close up her bedroom tight before following. True to her word, Rarity led her downstairs, to one of the last doors crammed into the corner of the hallway. After a moment of rooting around in her purse, Rarity fished a key from its depths, slotting it into the lock and throwing open the door with a dramatic flourish. “Welcome to the Canterlot Castle Boutique,” Rarity announced. Wide-eyed, Twilight stepped into the room. Rather than the drab contents of the cookie-cutter guest rooms of Canterlot Castle, she found herself in a miniaturized version of Rarity’s boutique. Most of the furniture had been removed from the premises. The exceptions to this were the few chairs set aside as a sort of lounge or waiting room. The rest of the room had been customized completely. A desk was pressed against the far wall below the window. A sewing machine had been set up alongside baskets of thread and bolts of cloth in a rainbow of different colors. Crates bearing a small hoard of gems were set aside as well as a trio of equine mannequins. Wherever a free space remained on the wall, racks of dresses were stored. “How . . .?” Twilight squeaked. “You’ve only been here for a week?” Rarity slipped past Twilight, flaunting her finely curled mane. “I managed to convince a few of the guards and cleaning staff to help me rearrange the furniture. Some of it has been moved from my boutique down on the Strip. Your secretary informed me that this room hadn’t been used in years, so I thought I’d clean up a bit. Impressed?” “Perhaps,” Twilight whispered. Rarity twirled around, pointing to the seats in the corner. “Go ahead and relax over there, Darling. I’ll join you in a moment.” While Twilight took her seat, Rarity rifled through her desk drawers, gathering sketchbooks and fabric samples from several of them. She laid them out side-by-side on the coffee table. Twilight briefly surveyed the selection before retrieving the one closest to her. To her untrained eye, the dress evoked the image of a flowing stream. Fine blue silk formed the body of the dress, opening up into layer upon layer of icy veils. To Twilight, the neat rhythm of lace resembled a waterfall. “This is beautiful, Rarity.” By now, the designer had returned. Rather than the expected second wave of sketches, Rarity held up a rosy red bottle and a twin set of crystal glasses. With a practiced ease, she filled one and held it out for Twilight. “No thank you.” “You sure? You look like you could use a drink.” The glass didn’t move. “I’m not sure.” “It’s a good year,” Rarity promised. The magic around the glass turned from blue to purple as Twilight reluctantly accepted. Rarity watched, eagerly waiting for the alicorn to try her first taste before moving on to fill her own cup. Twilight studied her reflection in the red pool. In it, she saw Celestia’s prized student. It showed her every late night she sat alone in her room. A year passed between each ripple. By the time the surface calmed, Twilight spied an old mare. Tired. Bitter. Still sitting alone. “Is there something in the glass?” Rarity asked. Twilight snapped to attention, offering a simple: “No.” “Good.” Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. “I know these glasses are clean. I’ve been saving them for a special occasion.” By the time Twilight looked back at her drink, she only saw herself. She tilted back her glass and emptied it in a single motion. It tasted as bitter as it looked, with a tang she thought might burn her tongue. In the time it took for the sensation to fade, she held her breath. Of course, she only realized this when she gasped for air. Rarity’s giggle drew her attention. She sipped through smiling lips. Rather than offer any further judgments, she simply raised the bottle towards Twilight, shaking it slightly. Twilight held out her glass, allowing the other mare to refresh it for her. “It seems I was right,” Rarity mused. “About what?” “You needing a drink.” “I’m not usually much of a drinker,” Twilight explained, her cheeks already showing a hint of pink. “I don’t really even know why I did that.” Rarity twirled her glass. “So, Darling, tell me what you think?” “I’m really tired of thinking, Rarity. These last few days, it’s just been giving me headaches.” “Alright then. Let’s try another way. No deep thought. Just look at the picture and tell me your first impressions.” Rarity pointed to the sketch still in Twilight’s hoof. “Oh. You meant the dress.” Rarity smiled. “Yes, Darling. I meant the dress.” “I like it. It reminds me of a forest stream, gentle and soothing.” “You like it, then?” “I do.” “Alright then. How about . . . this one.” She motioned to another design, this one a slender black piece. Upon closer inspection of the sample cloth provided, Twilight noticed a handful of glittering gem shards woven into the fabric. “It looks like the night sky.” “And as a dress? What do you think of its design?” Twilight scrunched her muzzle. “It’s a little short.” Rarity laughed. Initially, guilt wormed its way into Twilight’s thoughts, only to be replaced by annoyance. “Hey, you invited me to help you knowing full well that I don’t know the first thing about fashion, so don’t you laugh at me.” Twilight punctuated her minuscule tantrum with another drink. “I’m laughing at the irony.” “What irony?” Rarity crossed her legs, leaning heavily on the arm of her chair. “Fashion is a fickle mistress, Twilight. But, as a princess, you actually hold far more sway than you would think.” “Yeah. I still remember when you made those princess dresses. I wouldn’t recommend trying that again. I’m not sure the boutique will survive.” The two of them chuckled at the shared memory. Unbeknownst to the both of them, time marched on relentlessly. After three hours and a second bottle of wine, the duo finally finished scrutinizing the last of the designs. “So, is that everything you’ve been working on?” Twilight asked. “Those are the sketches I’ve been having trouble with.” “I can’t wait to see them. You’ve got me all excited now. But didn’t you say something about needing my opinion for a special dress? Or something like that, at least.” “It’s more of a side project I’ve been working on. I wanted to save it for last.” “Well, let’s see it,” Twilight egged on. “Alright, I suppose we still have some time. Wait here.” Rarity set her glass down on the side table and headed for the back of the room. Twilight couldn’t help but watch the way she moved. Such an exaggerated swagger meant she could hold her liquor with the best of them, or that Twilight had drunk far more of the empty bottles than she thought. “So, I sort of cheated,” Rarity said. “How so?” “This last one isn’t really a design. But I’d like to hear your opinion on it nevertheless.” Twilight shrugged. “I suppose I could offer some advice.” Instead of another sketch, Rarity returned with a fourth mannequin. Unlike its siblings, this one was engulfed beneath a heavy white sheet, obscuring the dress below. She set it up on the table, the catwalk to their private fashion show. Twilight squinted. “A bedsheet?” Rarity gave a hearty laugh. “The dress is under the sheet, Dear.” Twilight groaned. “I know that. I just meant that I’ve never seen you hide a dress before. I guess you really wanted it to be a surprise.” “That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.” “What’s the other?” “I guess you could say I’m a little embarrassed. This is rather unusual for me.” Twilight had less than a second to brace herself before Rarity pulled the sheet away. The overdramatic reveal felt a little hollow, once the alicorn set her eyes on what lay beneath. She expected something amazing. Something shocking, even. Instead, the model wore a plain white dress, torn to tatters and stained by time. Twilight cocked her head to the side. “It’s . . . a dress?” “What were you expecting?” “Honestly?” Twilight considered her own expectations. “The way you built up the reveal, I was expecting some glorious dress that would blow my mind. Or maybe lingerie.” Rarity returned to her seat, still nursing the remains of her wine. “As you can see, this is neither of those things,” she said timidly. “So then, what is it?” Twilight asked. “It’s a dress.” “I mean . . . I think the design could use some work.” “This isn’t one of my designs, Twilight, so give me your brutal opinion.” “I think it looks more like a rag than a piece of clothing.” “That’s fair.” Twilight shook her head. “If this isn’t yours, then where did you get it?” Rarity took a nervous sip. “I was passing through one of the retail shops near the boutique earlier this week. I was desperate for inspiration. This was on their clearance rack, for obvious reasons. I asked the salesmare about it. Apparently, the store had been trying to sell it for nearly a year. They were finally getting ready to throw it out. I told them I’d take it, instead.” “Why?” “I know it’s got some . . . issues—” “That’s putting it kind of mildly.” “But I’ve never seen another dress quite like it, Twilight. It’s probably the work of some independent designer. Or maybe a piece passed down for generations. I can’t really be sure why, but I just . . . felt something toward it. A fascination if you will.” Twilight winced. “I don’t know, Rarity. Do you think it’s even salvageable? It looks really rough.” Rarity set her drinking glass aside. “I would argue it is. But it would likely take years of hard work just to make it decently presentable. I’d probably never wear it in public, either. I can’t imagine the fashion world would take as kindly to it as I have. I just can’t bring myself to throw it out.” “In the end, I suppose the choice is yours, Rarity.” “That’s what I asked you down here for. I can’t decide. I’m stuck. Am I simply being delusional, Twilight?” Rarity looked to her friend with serious concern. “I think there’s a very real chance that fixing it could be a waste of time,” Twilight admitted. Rarity hung her head. “Oh.” In spite of – or perhaps due to – the alcoholic haze that enveloped them, the gears in Twilight’s head started to spin. “But . . .” The designer’s ears perked up, startled, but not unhappy about it. “But what?” “But there’s also a chance that I’m wrong, Rarity.” Twilight rose to her hooves. She stepped closer to the dress, inspecting it without ever really looking at it. “No matter how hard you try, there’s always a chance for this to fail. But that doesn’t mean it’s the only outcome. It might be tiring, thankless work. It might fail spectacularly. There will be hardships at every turn, both your own and from those around you. “In the end though, Rarity, you just have to decide if it’s worth it.” “And what do you think, Twilight? Is it worth it?” The edge of Twilight’s lip curled into a warm smile. “She is.” “She?” Rarity asked. Twilight never heard her question. “Thank you for the drinks, Rarity.” She started for the door, yelling back over her shoulder: “I’d love to stay and chat, but there’s something really important I have to take care of tonight. Good luck.” Twilight scampered off, slamming the door as she did. “I guess she is worth it.” Rarity, now alone on the couch, drained the rest of her wine with a proud smile. “You know, Celestia, I’m beginning to feel this conversation is a little too one-sided. This would be so easy if you’d just answer me.” Chrysalis sank further into her chair. “Do not take it personally. She has not been answering me lately, either.” Chrysalis’ head snapped to the side in time to see Luna step out from between two bookshelves, spilling out from a pool of shadows far too shallow to hide her. “I admit, I’m impressed you managed to sneak up on me,” Chrysalis growled, finally noticing the moonlight through the crack in the blinds. “I try my best,” Luna admitted with a playful grin. “At least, I would be. If I weren’t annoyed that you were spying on me in the first place.” Luna’s dark magic slid another chair across the room, setting it on the side of Celestia opposite the changeling. “I was not spying.” “Then what were you doing?” “I received a complaint from Doctor Heart. As it turns out, even his patience has its limit. Especially when his patients are involved.” “Fine. I guess I’ll just be going then.” With a huff, Chrysalis kicked her chair back into place beside the window. Before she could leave, chains of moonlight wrapped themselves around the door, sealing the two of them inside. She turned toward Luna, scowling. “And you have the nerve to scold me for keeping the doctor from his work.” “I do not recall saying I was here at the doctor’s behest.” “Then why are you here, Luna?” “I came to talk with you.” “I’m not interested,” Chrysalis scoffed. “Now open the door.” “You need not be so hostile, Chrysalis.” The changeling gave a nasally laugh as she took a seat on the floor. She leaned back against the door, her gaze cycling between the two princesses. “Last time I was locked in this room, you dragged me into a nightmare. Please explain why I should be calm right now.” “If I were here to hurt you, Chrysalis, I would not have announced myself.” “Or maybe you’re trying to trick me? Didn’t think I’d think about that, did you?” “I did not come here to hurt you. Neither am I here to trade barbs with you.” Chrysalis sighed. “Then why are you here, Luna?” “You are not the only one to visit Celestia like this. Many nights I sit here, asking my sister for advice.” “And does she ever answer you?” Despite the dripping sarcasm, a piece of Chrysalis buried deep within herself truly wondered. “No. Not even her dreams are known to me. But sometimes, it puts me at ease, regardless.” “That’s stupid,” Chrysalis mocked. “We are not so different, Chrysalis.” “Funny. Twilight said the same thing about me and Celestia. I didn’t believe her. I’m even less inclined to believe you. So why don’t you just open this door and let me—” “What are you so afraid of?” The changeling recoiled. “What makes you think I’m afraid.” “Do you worry that Twilight is correct? That you really are more like Celestia than you give yourself credit for? Or are you simply afraid of Celestia? Does she threaten you, Chrysalis? Or is that just what you tell yourself to dull the pain?” “Are you looking to pick a fight, Luna?” Chrysalis threatened. “No. I simply want to know what you think about.” “That’s none of your business.” “No, that is wrong. It is not me. Nor is it Celestia. Nor Twilight. It is your own reflection that you fear. Is it your own voice you hear calling to you in your most private moments, Chrysalis?” “Shut up,” Chrysalis roared. Luna took a sip from her teacup. Chrysalis quaked. She searched for something to throw, but the room was empty now. The anger in her chest burned, stoked by the imminent realization of just how deep Luna’s words struck. And then, in a moment, her rage subsided. “Are you ready to talk now?” Luna asked. “How did you know?” “Know what?” “About the voice?” “Because I hear it as well.” Luna set her drink aside, never once drawing her gaze away from her sister. “Every day, when I lay alone in my bed, the shadows whisper to me. A veritable choir, all chanting at me, mocking me.” “Does it ever stop?” Luna shook her head. “Other times, it grows worse. On some occasions, I still hear the siren call of the Nightmare. It haunts my every waking moment, threatening to drag me back to the monster I once was. In moments of weakness, it offers me solutions. When options run out, it offers me an escape.” “How do you stop it?” “If only I knew. What do yours whisper to you, Changeling?” “For years, I thought they told me the truth. They told me of plots against my reign, of imperfections that would ruin me. Only when I was cast down did I understand that they were wrong. They did not seek to aid me. They sought to ruin me. Ever since I’ve arrived here, they’ve only gotten worse.” “Did you ever tell Twilight?” “That I hear voices? She’d think me mad. Perhaps I am mad?” “I assure you that you are not.” “Maybe we’re both mad, then?” Luna chuckled. “Perhaps. They are our demons, come to haunt us for the wrongs we inflicted upon the world. Are they the ones that taught you to call yourself a monster?” “Yes.” A moment of silence passed between them, broken only by the chirping of crickets from the gardens outside. “Chrysalis, might I confide in you a personal matter?” “Who would I gossip to? I only speak to you and Twilight.” “Twilight is the one I seek to hide it from.” Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. “Your secret is safe with me.” “When Twilight released me from the Nightmare’s hold, I could not escape the guilt for all the terrible things I had done as Nightmare Moon. That night was the first time I heard the voices. They told me of the things my sister’s ponies whispered in secret. It told me that they cursed my name. That they hated me for the horrors I had inflicted.” “Did they?” Luna tilted her head slightly. “One night, I tried to go out among them, to share in their celebrations. But no matter what I tried, they fled from me. They feared me as the creature I once was. To this day, I still wonder if that fear exists within them, if they are simply waiting for me to turn again. But there was a single pony that refused to flee from me.” Chrysalis smirked. She didn’t have to give it a second thought. “Twilight?” “Of course. She came to me, offered me her friendship. She taught me how to fit in with my subjects. She taught me that I wasn’t the monster I used to be, even if the Nightmare still remained a part of me.” “That definitely sounds like her,” Chrysalis agreed. “But Twilight taught me something else. Something far more important, though I doubt she even realized it. From her, I learned why I heard such awful things.” “And?” “I was afraid. Believing them was easier on my mind than fighting against them.” Chrysalis frowned. “I don’t understand what you mean.” “I knew they told me lies, Chrysalis. Somewhere deep down, I knew my ponies did not hate me. But there was always a seed of doubt within me. I let myself believe that they hated me, because it was easier than then taking the chance and finding that they really did. My doubt was a crutch that I had spent far too long relying on.” Chrysalis chewed on her cheek. “That doesn’t help.” “What is it that you are afraid of, Chrysalis? Do you really worry that Twilight thinks you a monster? Do you honestly think that someday, just out of the blue, that Twilight will suddenly realize that you were the wrong choice? Is it for her health that you refuse to open up to her?” Something clicked. “No.” “Then what are you afraid of, Chrysalis?” “That she’ll learn the truth.” A cold chill settled over the room. “And now? Do you have your answer?” Chrysalis nodded. “I do.” A heavy knock on the door roused Chrysalis from her slumber.