Chrysalis inched along the edge of the hallway. From here, she could see the doors to Twilight’s study. She moved her hoof along the wall, using it to keep her stabilized as she hobbled along. As she reached the door, she put herself upright and grabbed the handle. It wasn’t locked.
The door swung open soundlessly. Chrysalis stood in the doorway, scanning the seemingly empty room. She spied a purple tail sprouting up from behind one of the farther tables.
“Twilight?”
The shelf and its contents rattled as Twilight slammed her head against the underside. She backed away from the wall and rose, rubbing a spot on the back of her head and trying to hide her reddened cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” If Chrysalis had a free hoof, she would have tried to cover her snickering. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Twilight winced. “Might have a nasty bruise in the morning, though.”
“Sorry about that.” Chrysalis stepped inside and shut the door behind her just as quietly as she’d opened it. “Cadance told me you wanted me to join you up here.”
“Yeah.” Twilight cantered over to her workstation and gestured toward the potion bottles brewing on their stands. “I’ve been putting together a few new cures to test with those special herbs I got from Celestia’s collection.” She inspected a bottle of bubbling purple liquid. “I wanted you to join me.”
“Do you need my help?”
“I mean, there isn’t much to do, I’m just tailoring–” Twilight’s words sputtered out as she turned toward Chrysalis, currently leaning on one of the tables to keep herself upright. Her wings bucked as she dashed forward, putting her hoof out to catch Chrysalis as though she were about to fall.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got an empty chair for me?” Chrysalis asked.
“Yeah, of course.” Twilight helped her over to the pile of crates the changeling had claimed. In addition to the tarps and sheets, several pillows had been piled up there. With the aid of her wings, Chrysalis lifted herself up onto the platform.
“Thank you, darling.”
“Yeah.” Twilight nodded. “What happened to your leg?”
“I’ve been missing for a while now. Did you just notice?” Chrysalis smirked.
“I meant your prosthetic,” Twilight corrected.
“Was causing more pain than it was preventing. So, I took it off.” Chrysalis started to distribute the pillows around, making her nest even cushier. “I wanted to see how well I could get around without it. I think I’ve managed pretty well.”
“We should have reported that to Doctor Heart. I’m sure he could make a better one.”
“I’m sure he could. But I think he’s got bigger things to worry about. And so do you.” Chrysalis waved a hoof at Twilight. “I’m a big girl, Twilight. I can handle myself. And if I’m ever in a really desperate situation, I’ve always got my wings.”
“Alright.” Twilight stepped back. “If you insist.”
“Now, back to what we were talking about.”
“The cures?”
“Yes. Anything promising yet?”
“I haven’t started testing yet.” Casting one last glance backwards, Twilight returned to her station to browse the lots. “Some of these theories are based more on legends than hard science.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t like it, but we’re running low on options.”
“Do you know how Celestia’s doing?”
“According to Doctor Heart, there’s no real change. She’s still declining at a pretty steady rate.” Twilight fell into the chair beside her experiments. She let her gaze drift down to the floor. “If these don’t work, I’m not sure I’ll have enough time to–”
“I’m sure one of them will work.”
Twilight’s lip curled into a smile. “When did you become an optimist?”
Chrysalis shrugged. “I’m simply saying that I have faith in you.”
“You and the whole of Equestria. It’s just going to make it that much worse if things don’t turn out well in the end.” Twilight’s shoulders heaved with a sigh. “But thanks.”
Twilight leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Following her example, Chrysalis rolled onto her side and stared out the window toward the night sky. The sound of boiling and bubbling filled the air.
“Twilight?”
“Hmm?” Twilight kept her eyes closed as she answered.
“Will you tell me about her?”
“About who?”
“Celestia.”
Twilight kept quiet for some time. “Well, is there something specific you want to know?”
“You care deeply for her. As though she were your own mother.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“It’s a little hard to explain.” Chrysalis heard Twilight’s chair creak as the pony shifted her weight. “She’s sort of like Equestria’s mother. She cares for all of her ponies.”
“But you care for her beyond that.”
“When I was young, she saw my talent for magic. She’s trained me, taught me. I wouldn’t be the mare I am today without her guidance. And as I grew, she showed me so much of what the world had to offer. She’s . . . she’s the one who gave me everything. In a way, you remind me a lot of her.”
Chrysalis sat up. “How so?”
Twilight sat in her chair, her head bouncing back and forth as she mused. “You’re nice.”
Chrysalis snorted.
“I’m serious,” Twilight said. “You both really care for your children. You care about your changelings, she cares about her ponies. You both try to teach with a gentle, yet firm touch. You’re leaders. You make difficult choices that would give others pause. But nopony can see that from the outside. You keep your true self hidden away behind a mask.”
“That’s quite the glowing review.”
“I’ve had the privilege of getting to know both of you.”
Chrysalis nodded. She laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling.
“Do you love her?”
There was a long pause as Twilight rose from her seat and examined her beakers. She wrote down a few notes and changed the temperature on one of the burners. Once that was done, she returned to her seat.
“Of course I do,” she decided.
“She seems worthy of it.”
“She is.”
“Is that why you spared me?”
Twilight rocketed upright. “What?”
“When I first arrived, you were the only one who didn’t want me dead or imprisoned. Is that why? Because I reminded you of Celestia.”
Twilight hung her head. “Maybe.”
“I can’t replace her. You know that, don’t you?”
With a huff, Twilight stood and shuffled to Chrysalis’ side. “Look, I’m still kind of new to this whole ‘love’ stuff, but I definitely don’t feel that way about Celestia. And while, yes, you two do have quite a bit in common, you’re not a substitute for her. I love you and respect you for you, Chrysalis.”
“You mean that?”
Twilight met Chrysalis’ gaze, causing both of them to smile. “Of course.”
The lab descended back into the quiet. But this time, Chrysalis didn’t look away. Instead, she watched as Twilight moved up and down the room, mixing potions and taking notes. Sometimes she would swish the mixture around, resulting in her either smiling or grimacing. Chrysalis found enjoyment in watching her work, though she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was simply the way Twilight seemed enraptured. She was in her element here. And she looked the part.
“What?” Twilight asked, cracking a smile.
“I didn’t say anything,” Chrysalis said.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Twilight touched her cheek. “I don’t have something on my muzzle, do I?”
Chrysalis shook her head.
“Then why are you staring at me like that?”
“Maybe I’m just enjoying the show?”
“The show?” Twilight asked incredulously.
“Yeah.”
Twilight set down her beaker. “And what show is that?”
“You. Working.”
“You like watching me work?” Twilight snorted. “Thanks, I guess?”
“I don’t really know how to explain it . . . it’s like . . .” Chrysalis closed her eyes. She felt the muscles in her cheeks tighten as the edges of her lips curled upward. She’d smiled before, of course. A sadistic grin here, a condescending smirk there. Even the face that she made during a half-crazed laugh was sort of like a smile. But this felt different. There was no reason behind her choice. She wasn’t even sure she had consciously made it. She just smiled.
“Hey, are you still with me?”
Twilight’s voice snapped Chrysalis out of her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, Twilight was standing close, leaning forward for a better look at the changeling’s face.
“I’m still here,” Chrysalis answered.
“You sure? You just kind of . . . trailed off there.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. I feel . . . I feel like I could sit here and watch you do this all day. I’m . . . enjoying it?” Chrysalis furrowed her brow. “Actually, that sounds bad. I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’m not, like, a boss, watching my peons work beneath my whip. I like watching you like . . . how you might watch a butterfly. Or maybe–”
“Chrysalis!” Twilight interrupted. “Take a breath.”
“Why? I don’t need to breathe–”
“That’s not the point.” Twilight lowered her hoof. “I understand what you’re trying to say. I didn’t think you meant it in a bad way. I think you’re enjoying yourself. You’re having fun.”
“Fun?” Chrysalis smirked. “I guess that could be it.”
Twilight returned to her experiments. “You sound surprised.”
“I’m not used to feeling it.” Chrysalis started to stare off into the distance again. “I’ve spent my life struggling to survive. Fun isn’t usually a part of that.” She sighed. “But I think you’re right.”
“You’re saying you’ve never had fun?” Twilight asked, squinting.
“Not for a long time. Not since Blue and I would go out for our nights on the town.”
A pause.
“You really miss him, huh?”
“I do.”
“He sounds like a real class-act stallion.”
“He was.” Chrysalis stared up at the ceiling. “You would have liked him, too.”
“Was he a scholar?”
“Close. He was a scoundrel.”
Twilight shook her head. “Those are nothing alike.”
“Sure they are,” Chrysalis said. “Just because you learn different things, doesn’t mean you aren’t inquisitive about it. He would be lost in a lab like this. The same way you would probably be lost trying to sneak through a crowded bar. You’re both geniuses in different ways.”
“I guess.” Twilight shrugged.
“He was fascinated with magic, too.”
“Now that’s something I can understand.” Twilight grabbed a mortar and pestle from a different table and set it down beside her. One-by-one, she dropped in a colorful collection of dried herbs and started to grind them.
“Hey, you’re not upset that I keep mentioning him, are you?” Chrysalis looked at Twilight.
“No.” She stopped long enough to check her work before continuing to grind. “I mean, I was at first. But that memory you showed me . . .”
“What about it?”
“He said something at the end.” Twilight closed her eyes. “‘She is my greatest treasure.’”
“Did he?” Chrysalis wrinkled her muzzle.
“Yes.” Twilight sighed. “I got that from your memory, Chrysalis.”
“You mean that one . . .” Chrysalis cleared her throat. “The one that I didn’t intend to show you.”
“Yeah.”
“Truth be told, I try not to think about that day.”
“I don’t blame you. It was . . . intense. But it was something I think I needed to see.”
Chrysalis shook her head. “It’s not something anypony should see.”
Twilight poured the herb into a half-full beaker and set it aside. “It took me some time to figure it out. I understand how you felt . . . how you still feel about him.” Twilight’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And I understand how hard it was for you to lose him.”
“It was.”
“I know you said I wasn’t a replacement. But if you feel the same way about me that you do about him, then I’m happy with that. And I can only hope that someday I live up to the expectations you have for me. For us.”
“I don’t have expectations for you, Twilight. I just want you to be you.”
“I know. And I think that’s what he wanted, too.” Twilight gripped the edge of the table. “He said: ‘She’s my greatest treasure.’ I think he wanted you to find somepony who made you happy. Somepony to share your memories with.” Twilight arched an eyebrow. “Somepony who you enjoy watching them work, perhaps?”
“Clever.” Chrysalis chuckled silently. “That sounds like a scheme he’d cook up.”
“So . . . what prompted all these questions?” Twilight asked. “In the short time I’ve known you, I don’t think you’ve ever shown concern for – or interest in – another pony.”
“I’ve just been doing some thinking lately.”
Twilight stood quietly, waiting for a continuation, but Chrysalis didn’t have one for her.
“What are you thinking about?”
“A lot of things.”
“What sort of things?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“You refuse to give a lot of answers.”
Chrysalis groaned and rolled her eyes. “I went down to see your brother today. At your idiot sister-in-law’s behest.”
Twilight grimaced. “I can only imagine that went well.”
“I barely got a word in before he threw me out.”
“Of course he did.” Twilight sighed. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about him. He’s my brother; I’ll handle him.”
“You’ve got better things to do than argue.” Chrysalis’ ear twitched as she heard Twilight’s footsteps approaching. She opened her eye a little and turned to look at her. “Besides, even if you do manage to convince him, that doesn’t really solve the rest of the situation.”
Twilight sat beside Chrysalis’ crate, leaning against it. “You mean the other ponies.”
“I do.”
“After everything I’ve done for Equestria, they won’t even give me a chance now.” The alicorn scoffed. “I saved them time after time, and they repay me with doubt and suspicion.” She slammed her hoof against the crate. “It’s so aggravating.”
“Being a leader often is.”
“Do you have any advice for me?”
“Kill or exile those who oppose you?” Chrysalis suggested.
“Do you have any advice that’s less . . . violent?”
“Look, I don’t think you want my advice on this.”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Chrysalis rolled to the side of her makeshift bed, allowing her to see Twilight sitting below. “When I was young, I used my power and influence for fun and to live a comfortable life. Even when I set out and became the leader of my own hive, I lost myself in pride and anger. And my subjects suffered for it. I’m not a leader. I never was.”
“But deep down, even if it was in your own, twisted way, you did care about them,” Twilight said.
“I don’t know. The best advice I can offer you as a leader is this: don’t do what I did. Don’t squander your power for pleasure and profit.”
Twilight pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s great advice, but that doesn’t really help solve my current problem.”
“I told you it wouldn’t.”
Twilight exhaled, sliding down toward the floor as she crumbled inward. “I don’t know if I can do this, Chrysalis.”
“Rowdy subjects are nothing new. You’ll make it through–”
“I don’t mean just that,” Twilight cut in. “It’s all of it. When I was made a princess, I thought it would be my chance to help everypony. To show them all that with the power of friendship, no goal was out of reach. No monster, no spell, no villain could stop that. I tried to show them, to teach them to be gentle and kind. That the world could be such a beautiful place if we could all just get along.”
Twilight hung her head. “And when I look outside, at the anger and hatred in my subject’s eyes . . . I realized that everything I did amounted to nothing.” She took a shaky breath and wiped her eye with the back of her hoof. “I don’t know if I can take it any longer. I don’t know if I want to be a princess.”
“And that’s why you make a great princess.” Chrysalis reached down from her perch, taking Twilight by the chin and kissing her muzzle.
“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Chrysalis.”
“Good. Because I’m not joking.” With a bit of effort, Chrysalis dragged herself over the edge of her nest, sliding down to sit beside Twilight. Almost instinctively, Twilight leaned her head, resting it on the changeling’s shoulder. “You’re upset that they ignored your lesson. But not because it was your lesson. You wanted to help. And now you’re worried that they’re going to hurt themselves or somepony else because of that ignorance.”
“And what makes you think that?” Twilight sniffled.
“Because you’re a good princess.”
“I appreciate the thought, but just because you believe that–”
“Because Celestia believed it.” Chrysalis wrapped a hoof around Twilight’s shoulder, pulling her close and holding her tight. “She made you a princess because she knew you would never stop fighting to help everypony you could.”
“What if she was wrong?” Twilight asked.
“She might be. She’s not infallible. I proved that when I kicked her sunny butt at Cadance’s wedding.” Chrysalis felt Twilight laugh against her chestplate. “But you trusted her enough to take a gamble on me. Shouldn’t you trust her enough to believe she chose correctly when she chose you?”
Twilight sighed. “I don’t know. It’s just . . . a lot.”
“And it’s not yours to handle alone. You’ve got Luna and Cadance. You’ve got your friends. And, of course, you’ve got me. That alone is enough to handle anything life throws your way. And over time, I’m sure you’ll get through to the rest of them.”
“Thank you.” Twilight collapsed into Chrysalis’ lap, staring up at the changeling. “But weren’t you the one who said they might never believe that you’re not as evil as you claim?”
Chrysalis shrugged. “That’s still possible.” She smiled. “But we won’t know unless we try, right? Maybe the world isn’t as bleak as I’d like to think it is.”
“Maybe,” Twilight said.
After several minutes, She finally rose from Chrysalis’ lap. “Alright, that’s enough pity for tonight.” She swallowed and forced herself to stand tall. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Now there’s the Twilight that ruined all my evil schemes.”
“Ha.” Twilight rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop from grinning. “I’m going to be busy up here all night. Probably most of tomorrow, too. Then I’ll have some time while I let the tests run. In the meantime, you should head back to your room and get some rest.”
With a purposeful stride, Twilight returned to her work.