"On the eve of war, offer compassion. It will not save you from damnation, but it may at least allow you to face it."
-Unknown D'nurian General.
In the depths of one of the most secure locations of Equestria, a swirling ring of golden energy resolved itself. In the cages nearby, a variety of imprisoned beasts shuffled nervously. It was oddly early in the day for the portal to have appeared. Normally the one it preceded preferred to arrive later in the afternoon, or early evening. Likely because he always seemed to detest being here, and preferred to delay it for as long as possible. Yet here he was arriving at noon, and. . . the various imprisoned creatures stared. This was. . . different.
Stepping through the portal into Tartarus, Derran Grandel took a deep breath. Ignoring the stares of the various incarcerated monsters around him, he walked briskly forward. Said creatures were further surprised, when the infamous warrior didn't even bother with his customary intimidating glare. As he strode past them and into the maximum security chamber without so much as a backward glance. And all that would have been strange enough, without the picnic basket in his hand and the guitar slung over his shoulder. Glancing at each other through the bars of their cages, the prisoners all wondered the same thing: why did the Doom Slayer look like he was dressed for a date?
Chrysalis sighed, as she counted the cracks in the cavern ceiling for the three hundred thirty eighth time that day. Bored out of her skull, but too proud to admit it. She did have a few books laying around in her cell for entertainment, mostly romance and action novels. But they had been provided by Celestia, and she'd hurl herself into the abyss before she'd accept charity from one of her most hated nemeses. So Chrysalis contented herself with finding her own entertainment. Mostly counting things and fantasizing about what she and Derran would do together once she had convinced him to become her king. Mostly it boiled down to conquest and uninhibited sex, but there was a lot of variation available for those two themes.
Turned away from the entrance to the chamber, Chrysalis's ears pricked as she heard the click of footsteps on stone. She had to admit to being a bit surprised, normally Derran didn't come by till later in the day. Then again, not being able to see the sky had a habit of messing with one's perception of time, so maybe it was later than she thought. However, as she turned with a gentle, by her standards anyway, smile on her face, Chrysalis did a double take.
Derran, whom usually dressed quite formally, looked oddly casual. Wearing a dark gray T-shirt over which he'd thrown a, currently unbuttoned, blue and white plaid button up long sleeve shirt. On his legs he wore a pair of faded blue jeans with a brown leather belt, and brown leather work boots. However, what stuck out most to Chrysalis, was the guitar slung over his shoulder, and the picnic basket in one hand. Arching an eyebrow, Chrysalis immediately became suspicious. Something was going on.
"What in the wastes are you wearing?" She asked before she could stop herself. Derran simply smiled.
"You don't like it? I had thought it would be nice to be a bit less. . . official with this visit." Chrysalis instantly felt herself tense. Derran never smiled at her, and he certainly had never spoken to her like she was an old friend. Had he been brainwashed? Was he setting her up to finally kill her? Was he drugged?!
"You seem. . . oddly chipper. And what, may I ask, are those?" She asked, gesturing with a hoof at the picnic basket and guitar. Derran just continued to smile.
"I thought we could have a proper meal together? Maybe enjoy a bit of music?" Chrysalis stared at Derran with a nonplussed expression for a moment, before narrowing her eyes and jumping into a combat stance.
"You're planning to kill me aren't you?! Celestia has finally had enough of toying with me and has decided to do away with me for good!! Admit it! That's why you're pretending you don't hate me! This is my last meal!!" She snarled, bracing herself for what would no doubt be a very short, and ultimately futile fight. Derran rolled his eyes as he let out a sigh.
"No Chrysalis, I have not come here to cause you harm. As I stated, I wish to share a meal with you, and maybe play you a song or two. I have no intention of killing you." Chrysalis continued to glare at Derran for a few seconds before speaking, her tone low and uncertain.
"If I recall correctly. . . you never break a promise once given. . . That you take pride in your word being as inviolable as you yourself are." Chrysalis's tone sounded demanding, but buried within was a barely noticeable hint of desperation. "So swear it to me. Swear to me on the lives of your precious princesses that I'm not going to die here!" Derran let out a sigh before giving a nod. Putting aside the basket and guitar, he fell to one knee. Placing his right fist over his heart, he bowed his head as he spoke in a low, formal tone.
"On the lives of the Seraphim, in the name of the holy Light, and by my honor as a warrior. I hereby swear not to do you harm, nor allow harm to come to you, for as long as you do not seek to bring harm upon me or that which I protect. This I vow, with the Light as my witness, amen." Chrysalis was good at spotting liars, it came with the territory of being who she was. So when she saw Derran raise his head, she was shocked to see not even the slightest hint of deception in his gaze. He had meant every word he had just said. More than that, Chrysalis was left with the distinct impression that he would die to keep the promise he just made. For somepony who was used to never being able to fully trust anycreature, this level of honesty was almost frightening.
"Well. . . very well then." Chrysalis stated, relaxing slightly. "So if you aren't here to kill me, what is the meaning of all this? I doubt you've suddenly decided to accept my offer and betray your beloved 'Seraphim' or whatever you call those pathetic simpering fools." She declared haughtily. Derran's expression was neutral, though inwardly he did tense slightly at the insult to his ladies.
"No. There is no force in existence that could ever convince me to betray the Seraphim, or the Holy Land." He stated firmly, before suddenly softening his gaze. "Let us call this. . . an offer of enlightenment in exchange for closure." Chrysalis arched an eyebrow at that, but made no comment. "At any rate, may I come in?" Derran asked, gesturing at the invisible border of the cell with a gentle grin on his face. Chrysalis just scoffed.
"It isn't as if I could stop you. Why even bother asking?" Derran chuckled in response.
"I find it never hurts to be polite. Besides, contrary to what you might think, I would leave if you truly did not want me here. I simply figured you might like at least one interaction between us that wasn't clouded by ill will. Was I mistaken?" Chrysalis didn't respond at first, seeming to digest Derran's words.
"You may enter. If only because I'm still curious as to what this is all about." Derran nodded, picking up the guitar and picnic basket, he gave a smirk as he whispered the passphrase for the cell, and walked through the unseen barrier that made up Chrysalis's prison.
"And because this is likely your last best chance to persuade me to pick you over Twilight, Luna and Celestia, correct?" Chrysalis's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"I both love and hate how perceptive you are." She declared flatly. Derran shrugged.
"I was trained as a politician till I was in my late teens, and spent over twelve hundred years fighting against the species that perfected the art of the Faustian Bargain. Discerning the ulterior motives of others is practically second nature to me." He explained as he took out a red and white checkered blanket and spread it over the stone floor of the cell, placing the picnic basket and guitar off to the side. Taking a seat on the blanket, Chrysalis was surprised at how it felt like she was sitting on an especially soft cushion, likely due to some minor enchantment.
"You are aware I don't eat pony food?" She asked, trying to disguise how much she was enjoying the blanket. Derran merely smirked.
"'Do not' is not the same as 'can not'. I doubt you will keel over from ingesting a honeysuckle and daisy sandwich or two. Besides, speaking as someone whom technically no longer needs to eat, lack of need does not make a good meal any less enjoyable. If nothing else, consider this an opportunity to broaden your horizons." He stated easily, offering Chrysalis a square shaped object wrapped in wax paper. Sniffing the proffered item cautiously, she eventually took the sandwich in her magic's sickly green aura. Her cell's mystic restrictions were a bit different than the magic scramblers outside it. It prevented any spellcasting above a certain level, and any attempt to mess with the barrier or floor of her cell via spells of any kind would cause it to shut her magic off completely. Low level levitation still worked however.
Unwrapping the sandwich and taking a speculative nibble, Chrysalis had to struggle not to inhale it, as the mix of flavors danced across her tongue. Desperate not to let her dispassionate mask slip, she carefully controlled her expression, as she daintily took another bite. Unfortunately, Derran's knowing smirk told her she wasn't fooling anycreature.
"I take it you approve?" He asked easily. Chrysalis slowly chewed her bite of sandwich, refusing to let her enjoyment show on her face. How anycreature could make a few errant plants and sauces between two pieces of bread taste so good she had no idea.
"It is. . . adequate." She offered, in her best tone of faux nonchalance. Derran just shrugged as he retrieved a sandwich for himself.
"I also have grilled eggplant and mushrooms if you prefer?" He commented, as he took a bite. Chrysalis would deny till death, that the thought made her mouth water.
"Perhaps I might be tempted." She replied noncommittally. Even as she mentally vowed to eat as much as she could of everything in the basket, no matter what. Derran just chuckled as he pulled a thermos and two teacups from the wicker container. Filling both cups with the steaming contents of the thermos, he offered one to Chrysalis, whom immediately had to hide her interest in the sweet smelling concoction.
"I am told this tea blend has recently become all the rage. It is called: 'Slayer Leaf'." Chrysalis gave Derran a questioning look as she took the offered cup.
"Not my idea I assure you." He commented with a laugh. Taking a cautious sip, Chrysalis struggled not to react as the spicy, yet faintly sweet, liquid flowed over her tongue and down her throat.
For a time, the pair ate and drank in surprisingly companionable silence, broken only by Chrysalis requesting more food. Derran, for his part, made no comment, as the former Changeling queen ate her way through four sandwiches, seven cups of tea, an entire container of potato salad, and three quarters of a homemade strawberry cheesecake. Finally, as they sat there digesting, Derran reached over to grab his guitar, strumming out a few random chords as he tuned it.
"I wasn't aware you played an instrument." Chrysalis remarked, as she poured herself another cup of tea.
"To be fair, I didn't, until ten or so months ago." Derran replied with a chuckle. "However, I found a beginner's guide in the royal library and figured it might be a fun skill to learn." Chrysalis almost allowed herself a smile, but clamped down on the treacherous corners of her mouth just in time.
"So. . . what do you intend to play for me?" She inquired, doing a surprisingly good job of hiding her excitement. Derran shrugged as he finished adjusting the instrument.
"I had a few ideas, but I'm happy to take a request if you have one?" Chrysalis took a moment to haughtily toss her mane.
"Unlike ponies changelings do not waste time on frivolities like music. We are far too busy preparing to conquer our enemies and hunting for food." Derran glanced at Chrysalis with an unimpressed frown and an upraised eyebrow.
"Is that so? Because I heard you gave a rather impressive recitation of lyrical braggadocio during your first attempt at invasion." Chrysalis instantly felt her cheeks redden.
"T-that was spur of the moment! It's not like I rehearsed it!" Derran's raised eyebrow went up another notch. "Ok, it's not like I rehearsed it much. . . Four or five times at most." She stated in a faintly huffy tone. Derran just rolled his eyes.
"As you like. But I take it then that you have no requests?" Chrysalis refused to meet his gaze, cheeks still red as she replied.
"I'm sure your selections will be . . . acceptable." She stated simply, as she took a sip of her tea. Derran just chuckled as he started to play. His fingers dancing across the guitar strings, a gentle steady melody filling the air, Chrysalis's mask slipping, as her eyes widened. Then Derran began to sing, and the former queen became truly spellbound. . .
(Love Will Come to You, by Poets of the Fall)
The tune was rapid yet peaceful, the lyrics, at once both cheerful and mournful. Pulling at Chrysalis's mind and heart in a way she had never once experienced. As she listened she felt lighter, as if floating on a cloud. An unfamiliar warmth blossomed in her chest, as her cheeks flushed. Yet, at the same time, a feeling of longing pulsed in her heart, an odd melancholy seeming to press down on her. Images flashing through her head in time with the music. Imaginings that Chrysalis once would have thought alien, coaxed into her consciousness by the enchanting sound.
In her mind, Chrysalis saw herself and Derran atop a grassy hill, watching as the sun rose. Then suddenly, she was walking on the bank of a river, Derran standing on a bridge in the distance waiting for her. Chrysalis walked through an unfamiliar dusty mansion, smelling of cedar and memories, a wan light spilling in through lace curtained windows. As Derran leaned on a door frame in a faded, red flannel shirt. Again the mental images shifted, to show snow receding rapidly from a bed of flowers. Daffodils and crocuses emerging from the earth in the blink of an eye. As if time itself were accelerated, Chrysalis and Derran looking on from a fence nearby.
On and on the visions went, beautiful yet incomprehensible. Chrysalis wore a sundress and trimmed a rosebush, as around her trees like an impressionist painting rustled in the wind. Fall came, leaves falling in torrents from said trees, as Chrysalis and Derran walked side by side down a dirt path, their breath fogging as they laughed. Another strange and profound sense of longing throbbing in Chrysalis's heart, as the images inspired by the song played out.
She didn't know what these strange imaginings were, and yet. . . she wanted them. Not as mere fleeting conjurations in her mind, she wanted them as real happenings. She wanted to walk down those roads, see those sights, experience that strange mental world. More than that. . . she wanted Derran to be there. Not as her king, nor as an aid to her conquest, just to have him there. Just so she could share the experience with him. Chrysalis had no idea why she wanted any of this, but the desire burned within her like a bonfire as the song went on. Then, as it wrapped up, Chrysalis was stunned to feel a trickle of wetness, trail down her cheek. . .
"Beautiful. . ." She whispered, no longer even attempting to hide her true feelings. Derran however, made no comment, simply nodding, as the last notes faded away.
"It was one of my wife's favorite songs." He finally stated, his voice filled with a mix of emotions so complex they could never be properly described.
"You mean Twilight, Celestia and Luna?" Chrysalis asked softly, just a hint of her usual bitterness creeping into the words.
"No. . .”Derran stated quietly. "I mean my wife." He reiterated, his words becoming soft but firm. At that, Chrysalis's eyes widened slightly, and she turned to stare at Derran. His head turned away, and his distant expression fixed on a far wall. For a long moment, neither the former queen nor the ancient warrior spoke. Till finally, Derran broke the silence. "I had best get all this packed away. . . I have matters to attend to." Chrysalis nodded and tried not to look disappointed. As Derran put aside his guitar, and began placing various containers and bits of trash back in the picnic basket. She would have spoken, but between her own emotions and the revelation of Derran's past, Chrysalis had no idea what to say. . .
A short time later, Derran placed the last of the empty food containers back in the basket, though he left the blanket. Watching with a blank expression to hide her sorrow that their time together was ending, as well as various other emotions she had no name for or understanding of. Chrysalis sat and stared as Derran finished. As he hefted the guitar and placed the carrying strap over his shoulder, Chrysalis tried once more, to imagine what had even prompted all of this.
Derran had never made any secret of his dislike for her. Had it been up to him, Chrysalis had no doubt she would have died long ago. Yet not once over the course of this entire visit, had he so much as glared at her. It made no sense, even if Celestia herself had ordered him to do this, Chrysalis doubted Derran could have pulled it off without at least some indication of how he really felt. But if it had been his own choice, what could have been the reason for it? Finally, as Derran turned to go, Chrysalis's curiosity overcame her.
"I still don't understand. . . Why do all this?" She asked. Derran paused, his back still turned. For some time he stood there, before finally responding.
"I have. . . a task to perform. One that requires I put all those before it to rest." Chrysalis didn't know why, but that statement sent a jolt of genuine concern through her. However, before she could ask for further clarification, Derran interrupted. "Did you enjoy today?" He asked, a strange, unrecognizable tone in his voice. Chrysalis, caught off guard by the abrupt question, answered before she could think about it.
"Yes." She replied. Derran, still facing away from her, nodded.
"Good. . . because it will not be happening again." Derran's statement held no anger, no coldness, no nothing. It was empty of all emotion, whether good or ill. Yet at the same time, there was a. . . darkness, to his words. A terrible note of foreshadowing, that spoke of a horror not yet unleashed. To Chrysalis, there was something inherently terrifying about it. As best she could describe, it was like Derran was dispassionately holding a knife to his own throat. It was almost enough to distract her from a never before felt, twinge of pain in her heart. And struck her mute, as Derran walked away. Only a whisper was able to pass her lips, too low for even Chrysalis herself to hear, in a tone of desperation she would not have been able to explain even if she had been aware of it.
"Come back. . ."
Yet if Derran heard her almost silent plea, he gave no sign. As he left the chamber. . .
Derran passed the cages in the minimum security wing with an inexpressive and unsettling calm. An icy chill emanating from him as he waited for the portal to reopen. His business here was done, the war with Chrysalis given its proper close. It would no longer be a distraction. Like so many frivolous indulgences, his grudge needed to be cast aside. So that he might once more be about the business of war with the focus it demanded.
As the portal opened, Derran caught sight of his image in a discarded steel water dish next to an empty cage. For a moment, he simply stared at his distorted reflection, then he gave a faint nod. It seems there was one last stop he must make. A minor detail, but one that must be tended to.
In battle, a commander must set an example. Must present himself in a manner befitting the situation. It was time Derran made clear that the Doom Slayer's brief retirement was officially over. . .