“It is always so simple, and so complicating, to accept an apology.”
― Michael Chabon
For some inexplicable reason, Lamia found the tall wooden door to her mother’s stateroom more forbidding than the door to her sister’s room. Perhaps it was simply how emotionally exhausted she had been after finally forgiving her sister, but it was more likely that she was just worried about her mother’s reaction.
At this point though, Lamia had made up her mind. She was going to explain to Chrysalis the circumstances of Cyndra’s betrayal and what she tried to do for their hive. The standoff initiated by the changeling hive had to stop and it could only come through some form of reconciliation. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, the young queen unlocked the door with her magic and stepped in.
“Mother, do you have a minute?” asked Lamia as she entered the stateroom and faced its only occupant.
Chrysalis didn’t answer immediately. Her focus was completely devoted to a little colored pebble on top of a detailed map of Equestria. Curious, Lamia checked the placement of the pebble and to her puzzlement, it seemed to be placed over Canterlot.
“Sorry, Lamia, but can you give me your honest opinion for a moment?” asked Chrysalis, her eyes still focused on the pebble.
“Of course, Mother,” said Lamia.
“Was it a good idea to attack Canterlot?” asked Chrysalis, turning to her daughter. Lamia blinked, surprised by her mother’s query.
“What made you ask that question?” asked Lamia.
Chrysalis sighed. “I’ve been wondering about why your sister betrayed our hive. I can’t understand how she could have thought it prudent to help Celestia force our hive to surrender.”
Lamia pondered the question in her head, a frown on her face, before shaking her head in resignation. Yes, she had not particularly wanted to launch an attack on Canterlot, but...
“Mother, a good idea then and a good idea now are very different things. Back then, we had good reason to believe the best course of action was to invade Canterlot because we really needed the love to survive, even if it would take great effort and massive risk to get it,” said Lamia comfortingly.
“But it was not the best decision I could have made, and I did not take your suggestion of caution in full consideration,” said Chrysalis haltingly. The elder queen glanced forlornly at the map. “I… I endangered our hive and caused it so much trouble, just to take revenge on those that had no idea of what they did to you.”
Lamia blinked. It seemed her mother was making an effort to understand her role in this whole conundrum. Deciding to go ahead with her plan, Lamia composed her thoughts and spoke up.
“But they didn’t… and I know the exact reasons for why Cyndra betrayed us.”
Chrysalis spun around, her eyes wide. “You talked to her? What did she say?” she asked, trying to give an impression of solemnity. However, her attempt to keep the concern from her voice all but failed miserably.
Slowly, Lamia explained the details of her sister’s betrayal. When she told her that Cyndra was given the chance to flee and returned to Celestia, her mother’s eyes widened and then narrowed. Her expression switched from contemplative frown to snarling anger and back again.
Strangely enough, all throughout Lamia’s explanation, Chrysalis said nothing. Her features were easily readable, but she remained silent, her ears attentively listening to Lamia’s report. There was a moment where Lamia was afraid her mother would explode in rage and indignation, but while the queen shook and snarled, she made not a sound.
When Lamia had finished recounting what Cyndra had told her, she sat and waited for her mother’s response. It would have been highly amusing to watch her mother’s features contort and stretch, if the tension in the air wasn’t as heavy as a full-grown dragon and if her sister’s happiness wasn’t on the line.
“So, let me get this clear. Cyndra turned herself in so that she could get close to Celestia and give her a reason to spare our hive. However, she gave up our infiltration strategies because she did not trust us and became convinced that we had gone mad?” asked Chrysalis in a slow, deliberate manner. From the tightness of her jaw and the rapid flicks of her tail, Lamia could tell her mother was suppressing her emotions, but otherwise, she seemed merely thoughtful.
“Yes, Mother. She apologized to me and asked me to tell you that she is sorry and regrets her betrayal. She also told me that she will humbly accept any punishment you add to her existing sentence,” said Lamia. Calmly, she waited for her mother’s reply.
But for a long time, Chrysalis said nothing. Her teeth were gritted and her eyes were shut, as if she was at war within herself. Unable to decide, and yet showing none of her feelings. Lamia really wanted to know what was going on in her mother’s head, but she was worried that any intercession now would tip the scales somewhere she could not predict. So she remained silent.
“Did you forgive her, Lamia?” asked Chrysalis, quietly.
Suppressing her curiosity at her mother’s decision, Lamia nodded. “Yes. She’s my sister and she deeply regrets what she has done. I love her, and I while I am angry, I will not let this incident cause a rift in our relationship.”
Chrysalis sighed deeply. “Then you are a greater changeling than I could ever be, Lamia. I simply cannot forgive her.”
Lamia’s heart dropped like a stone. She had been hoping that her mother would be merciful and that their family would finally be reunited again after all these years. But it was not to be.
“Mother, please. Cyndra loves the hive. And while she committed treason, she did so wanting to save us from our own folly,” begged Lamia, who then bit her own lip to keep herself calm.
“I know, Lamia. But I… I can understand why Captain Armor’s Royal Guard made their mistake. I see the reasons for why Celestia manipulated Cyndra into a position where she made a bad decision. But your sister… she betrayed me, Lamia, and she confessed to it. Yes, Celestia played a part in getting her into doing so, but that doesn’t change the fact that she broke the last bit of trust I had in her.”
As Chrysalis turned to face her, Lamia could see that her mother’s eyes were moist, and her features were warped with greater anguish than Lamia had ever imagined. It was as if Chrysalis was in pain simply from talking to her.
“I’m sorry, Lamia. I just don’t trust her anymore. Your sister will resume her exile, except this time she will be confined to the Badlands. She will be monitored every day and given food with love infused into it so that she doesn’t starve, but will receive no contact from any changeling whatsoever.”
Lamia shook her head in denial. This could not be happening. Her family had never been perfect, but with her mother’s mind unchanged, Lamia found her last vestiges of hope vanquished. Her heart froze, an aching cold seizing it with its vice.
Her mother would never be able to forgive her sister and she would never be able to return to the hive. They could never be a family ever again. For a moment, Lamia was furious at her mother. Why wouldn’t she forgive her own daughter?
But at the same time, Lamia understood. Cyndra had committed the changeling equivalent of a capital offense not once, but twice. She had revealed a military secret; while not one of the cardinal Six Changeling Commandments, it was still a crime punishable by death. Moreover, while her intentions were good, she still knowingly broke laws designed to protect a hive at all cost. If the laws were to be interpreted by the letter, Chrysalis had actually been lenient.
So Lamia simply stood there in despair, until Chrysalis’s sympathetic tone momentarily broke her from her frozen state.
“You may continue to visit Cyndra as you wish for the duration of this conference, but once this is over, your sister is to resume her exile.”
Despite her trembling legs, Lamia managed to hold back her tears and look her mother in the eye.
“I understand.” Lamia bowed and trotted out of the chamber with a heavy heart. She knew she would have to tell her sister.
Cyndra was lying on her bed the next morning, reading one of the books that were in the room the Equestrians had provided her. It was an interesting work on Equestrian history. The book seemed surprisingly honest about past mistakes the Princesses and Equestrians had made, but perhaps it was written to appear that way? Cyndra wasn’t sure, but she was currently absorbed in the history of the Second Grypho-Equestrian war when she heard a knock on the door and an unmistakable voice.
“May I come in, Cyndra?” asked Celestia. The young changeling instinctively gulped, but quickly found herself relaxing. The alicorn had visited on several occasions to check up on her, and she did appreciate her concern. Not to mention she made an entertaining conversationalist.
“You may,” said Cyndra. The door swung open to admit Celestia, beautiful and elegant as ever, and wearing a friendly smile.
“You seem a little more cheerful today,” said Celestia, sitting down on a chair beside Cyndra’s bed.
“Yes, Lamia visited me,” said Cyndra, trying to guard her feelings. She had given up on trying to figure out how Celestia read her emotions. Every time the alicorn visited and talked with her about her feelings though, Cyndra always felt a little better. Thus, she couldn’t help but enjoy the Celestia’s company. Even if the princess was partially responsible for her predicament.
“Ah. I’m glad you seem to have come to an understanding. Is there something on your mind, though?” asked Celestia.
Cyndra merely nodded, averting her gaze. Her sister had told her she would return to her room today to tell her about their mother’s decision. While Cyndra had been overjoyed that her sister now understood why she had done what she had done, all night she had wondered what her mother’s decision would be. She dreaded it, and yet she dared to hope that everything would be just fine.
“Lamia plans to-” An odd canter of hooves on stone distracted Cyndra and she looked up quickly enough to see her sister open the door to her room.
When Lamia entered the room, a depth of sadness washed over me. I suddenly felt as if I’d never feel happy again. It was grief so keen I had to actually suppress my changeling senses.
“Lamia, what happened?”asked Cyndra, voicing the very question I had on my mind. What could have possibly caused such sadness to overcome the usually cheerful young queen?
Lamia seemed to deflate and her head drooped to the ground. I could see the tearstains from her single eye and the hesitation that locked her jaw.
“Mother… she…”
“What did she say?” asked Cyndra in a tone so soft I could barely hear her. I didn’t want to draw any conclusions, but my heart sank at Lamia’s dejected voice.
Lamia cringed. “Mother… she won’t forgive you. She said she can’t forgive a changeling she no longer trusts. She’s allowed me to visit you during the conference, but has told me that you will resume your exile in the Badlands and that you will be monitored every day. You’ll be fed, b-b-but no changeling is to have contact with you,” croaked Lamia in a mournful half-sob.
I turned to Cyndra. She stood there, still as a polished, black, statue. It was her eyes, though, that caught my attention. They were filled with resigned sorrow, as if her worst dreams had come to life.
“Okay, I understand. I-I-mean, it’s not that bad. I-I’ll be fed and…” Cyndra hiccupped and somehow, in spite of the torrent of sadness that she was emanating, she managed a small smile. She wasn’t fooling anybody and I quickly slid off the bed. Immediately, the elder changeling ran to her sister and embraced her. Just in time for the dam holding back Cyndra’s feelings to break.
Her crying wasn’t earth-shatteringly loud or terrifying. Actually, Cyndra sobbed and whimpered quite softly. But it was the sorrow of somepony who had lost everything and had nothing left to live for. She clung to Lamia like she was her life raft, and yet I now knew that even she would be torn away from her. Lamia was crying herself, trying to stay strong for her sister, but I could see her leaning on Cyndra as much as Cyndra was trying to burrow herself into her.
I wanted to silently leave this place. It was too sad. Even if I wasn’t able to sense the depressing emotions in this room, I would have been unable to watch this for any longer.
“Lamia, is there anything I-” I stopped, realizing that this wasn’t the time for talking. Cyndra was still wrapped in the throes of grief. Lamia was doing her best to look strong, but she was fooling nopony. They needed to be left alone.
So I bowed, turned around, and left, making sure I walked out of the door with all the grace befitting of a Princess.
But once out of sight, I spun around and loped desperately towards Luna’s chambers.
I’d had enough of broken changeling families.
“So, Alternia, you wish to reconcile Chrysalis with Cyndra?” asked Luna. The four of us, Luna, Cadence, Blueblood and myself, were seated on the couches and armchairs around the coffee table in my chambers. The door had been sealed and anti-listening and anti-scrying charms had been cast. Here we could discuss my relation to Chrysalis unheard or unseen by prying eyes or ears.
I nodded. “My sister is being incredibly stubborn, though I understand her reasoning to some extent. Cyndra didn’t break one of the Six Commandments, but she revealed a military secret and that crime is normally punishable by execution.”
I paused and took a sip of tea to wet my tongue before I continued. “But Cyndra is Chrysalis’s own daughter, and she has proved her loyalty to her hive and mother, despite her mistake. Not to mention, I did persuade Cyndra to tell me her secret, even if she did make the decision on her own. I owe them my help.”
“As the Princess of Equestria, you only did what you was required of your position,” said Luna.
“I know, and I do not regret learning the strategies of Chrysalis’s hive. Equestria needed them at the time.” I couldn’t help but sigh. “But perhaps there was another way instead of trying to persuade my niece to betray her mother. It is partially my fault that there is a rift between them.”
“Most of all though, I…” I paused, wondering what words that would best describe my emotions. Cyndra was my sister’s daughter, as was Lamia. But after all the time I had spent with them, the more I began to see them as… family.
“I do not know what to feel about my sister, but I care for Cyndra and Lamia. It hurts me to see them so saddened. So I will do everything in my power to reconcile my sister and my niece!” I proclaimed.
I watched my friends warily. I wasn’t sure if they would agree with me trying to interfere with an internal matter of Chrysalis’s hive. It is true that they will go along with me if I asked them to, but I wanted them to help me of their own volition.
“Alternia, you need not worry. Of course we will help you mend Cyndra and Chrysalis’s relationship,” said Cadence, with a sincere smile.
“No child should be separated from their mother for any reason,” declared Luna.
I nodded emphatically, remembering the last time I had seen my mother and the circumstances of that tragic time.
“I agree with Luna, but the question of how to help them still remains. With all due respect Auntie Alternia, I do not think you should meet with Queen Chrysalis directly," said Blueblood.
I realized immediately why my nephew had come to that conclusion and groaned. “You’re right. Chrysalis still holds me responsible to an extent for persuading Cyndra to tell me about the infiltration procedures. How will I apologize to her now?”
Nopony had an answer to my dilemma and for a long while we sat, occasionally bouncing ideas off of each other. Yet, with every suggestion considered, we found five different reasons that that option wouldn’t work. A pony would say that they had a solution to the problem, but then during our examination of it, we’d inevitably find that it would only make a delicate situation worse.
“I think I may have a solution,” said Blueblood timidly.
I raised an eyebrow. This was the fifth time somepony had said something along those lines and three out of five times it had been Luna. Even Cadence had said something, but Blueblood had remained silent.
“What do you have in mind, Blueblood?” I asked, still a bit doubtful of whether he had actually thought of a way to fix my problem.
But his plan was so simple that I immediately felt confident that this would work. It had to work. I had failed my nieces once, and had broken their family. I… my feelings for Chrysalis were still clouded and mixed with anger. But I couldn’t let Cyndra or Lamia suffer from my mistakes.
I smiled at my friends, who responded with their own grins. Now that my secret was out, I was just so glad that I could tell them about my family troubles. Even if we didn’t succeed, I was thankful for each of these close friends.
Camp Draco Gym...
Chrysalis hefted her spear with her telekinesis, bringing it up to a low guard position and lunging forward. Following the steps of the pattern, Chrysalis stepped back, spun around and raised the spear in a horizontal block. The queen was sweating heavily, having gone through several spear forms in the past hour, but she did not relent and continued to stab, twist and cut her way through the pattern. All of this was part of her attempt to forget about the negotiations, to relax from the stress of being a queen, and to forget about her daughters.
But right then, Lamia’s grief-stricken features appeared in Chrysalis’s mind. The queen shook her head, narrowing her eyes on the invisible target, and it worked for a moment. At least until Cyndra’s face infiltrated her thoughts. With that single image, Chrysalis’s jaws clenched in rage, yet her heart cried out in agony.
“Oh, damn it!” cursed Chrysalis. Her focused wrecked, the queen lost her balance and released her magic grip on the spear mid-thrust, sending it flying into the gym door with a thunk. Chrysalis scowled, annoyed at her slip-up, but immensely glad that nopony had been there.
It was at this moment that Prince Blueblood pulled open the door and nearly walked into the embedded spear. Chrysalis froze out of embarrassment, not moving a hair as the prince ducked under the spear and closed the door behind him.
“Greetings, Your Highness. I am deeply sorry for interrupting your practice, but I would like to inquire whether you have time for me to deliver something?” asked Blueblood, not showing any degree of condescension or disapproval for the damaged door.
Chrysalis raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unicorn’s proposal. “Elaborate, please,” said Chrysalis, drawing herself up to her full height so that she towered over the lone unicorn.
“I wish to give you a letter on behalf of Princess Celestia. A letter of apology, as well as a proposal,” said Blueblood, lifting a scroll wrapped in red ribbon in his magic.
This intrigued Chrysalis, so she lifted the scroll from Blueblood with her own magic and unraveled the ribbon and parchment. Bringing the letter up to her eye level, she read it quickly at first, but slowed down as the contents of the letter became clearer to her.
As Chrysalis read on, her eyes narrowed slightly. Sometimes her gaze would jump back up the scroll to re-read a certain section. Other times she’d raise an eyebrow and at one point, both her eyebrows shot up.
When Chrysalis finished the letter, she rolled it up, but continued to lift it with her magic. She had a frown on her face, but it was more thoughtful than angry.
“Why did Celestia or Luna not come to apologize to me directly?” demanded Chrysalis.
“They wanted to give you the space and time you needed to carefully read the apology and evaluate her proposal,” explained Blueblood. Chrysalis grimaced. She had to admit that it was a rather good call by Celestia. If Celestia or Luna had come, Chrysalis doubted she would have completely listened to what they would say.
However, Chrysalis doubted Celestia and Luna would take so much time to write a letter and send it via their princely nephew just to apologize.
“What else do your Aunts want, Prince Blueblood?” demanded Chrysalis.
Blueblood bit the inside of his lip. This was going to be tricky. “It is more like a suggestion, Your Highness. We would also like to respectfully suggest that you show leniency to Cyndra and do your best to reconcile with her. After all, she made her mistake partially due to us pressuring her.”
Chrysalis hesitated. She did not want to see Cyndra. Every time she thought of her… daughter, she remembered how she had given up a dangerous military secret and betrayed them all. Every time she saw Cyndra’s features in her mind, she felt the flame of rage. But it wasn’t rage that dominated her senses. It was pain. It ached like an old wound. The harder she tried to ignore it, the louder it would wail in agony.
Chrysalis groaned. Just what had she done wrong? She was aware she favored Lamia, but she had loved Cyndra as well. She had played with her, trained her, disciplined her, cared for her and loved her. Cyndra… was one of the most precious changelings in her life. How could the daughter she loved… and still loved… betray their hive, betray her like that?
A stray thought wandered into Chrysalis’s head. She tried to ignore it, but Chrysalis could not help but wonder if this sorrow was what Chamelia had felt all those years ago. Chrysalis winced as she recalled her mother’s disappointment, but then paused in thought.
The very last thing her mother had done, was to smile at them. Not just to Alternia, to them, to her. Chrysalis had pondered why for years, but she had never figured out why, or how she had managed it.
Blueblood coughed, breaking the silence and Chrysalis’s contemplations.
“Your Highness. I am but a prince of Equestria, but may I give my personal opinion on the matter?” asked Blueblood.
Chrysalis shot Blueblood a cautious frown, but nodded. The prince coughed into his hoof before meeting the queen’s eyes.
“I think you should forgive Lady Cyndra, Queen Chrysalis. I understand that the law is the law and you have already been lenient. But she is one of your only daughters. A good parent would not allow the law to dictate their every action, and a good queen knows when the law should be relaxed.” Blueblood gestured to the window overlooking the base.
“And look where we are now, Queen Chrysalis. Your daughter made a mistake, but she also helped bring your hive to this summit,” said Blueblood. He stopped, and with a gulp, watched as Chrysalis’s brow twitched.
In truth, Chrysalis heard Blueblood’s words loud and clear and she was trying hard not to agree with them. She didn’t want to forgive Cyndra. Her daughter had committed a crime against the hive and betrayed her trust. Chrysalis knew that changeling tradition would support her decision.
But... there was an undeniable part of her that wanted to relax the punishment. The part of her that wanted to embrace her daughter again. The part that saw the good that came from her daughter’s contact with Celestia.
Chrysalis forced that part of her heart down her throat. She could not afford to be selfish and neither could she ignore the fact that the law had been broken and her trust betrayed.
“I am afraid I cannot do that. Cyndra still revealed a military secret and endangered our hive. That is something I cannot overlook,” stated Chrysalis.
Blueblood sighed. “I understand, Queen Chrysalis, but before I leave, may I tell you a story?”
Chrysalis sighed, but decided to humor the prince. So she nodded and watched Blueblood as he shut his eyes and began to speak.
“When I was little, I lost my parents to a fire. My father pushed me out of the way of a falling beam, only to get crushed himself.” Blueblood swallowed hard, but continued to tell his tale in a tight voice. “My mother managed to toss me out of one of the tiny attic window… but she could not get out herself.” Blueblood choked at that last word, and Chrysalis could spy the sparkle of tears at the corner of his eye.
“My condolences, Prince Blueblood. Your mother and father were truly great ponies,” said Chrysalis. Her infiltrators had collected information that told her about Blueblood’s parents being killed in a fire, but she hadn’t known about their final acts of heroism.
Blueblood sighed and levitated a kerchief to wipe his eyes. “So everypony tells me, but I never knew… they were always very distant, and never had time for me. I would always get annoyed that dad thought my drawings were silly and mother never let me have all the chocolate I wanted.” Raising his head, Blueblood locked his piercing blue eyes with Chrysalis’s. “But… they were family, and I would give everything I have just to spend one more day with them.”
Blueblood’s look was so intense that Chrysalis nearly stepped back. She managed to control herself, but she couldn’t help but consider the prince’s words and compare them to her own situation. Cyndra wasn’t going to die, but her exile was permanent, and this time, Chrysalis had given orders for her to be driven away on sight. She would never see her daughter ever again.
That awful finality made Chrysalis realize something. She wanted to see her daughter again. At least, just one more time. Just one more meeting wouldn’t do any harm, would it? Besides, they had parted on horrible terms after her near assassination. Couldn’t she stand to face her daughter one more time... and maybe say a proper goodbye to her?
As the ache in her heart suddenly lessened, Chrysalis realized that she could.
“You make a good case, Prince Blueblood. Tell Celestia and Luna that I will take up their suggestion and will meet with Cyndra tonight after dinner in my chambers.”
The door was shut, waiting to be opened. Chrysalis was scowling at the door, as if she wanted to prevent it from being opened, but her eyes watched the wood paneling with anticipation.
Lamia stood as still as a statue - that was how tense she was - but anypony could see the hopeful light in her eyes. When her mother had told her about meeting Cyndra, Lamia had literally jumped two feet off her bed in joy. It was had been enough to even crack Chrysalis’s stoic facade.
Right now, Chrysalis was trying to ignore the fact that her daughter would be coming through that door in but a few minutes. Try as she might though, the queen kept thinking about Cyndra and she felt only more torn as she considered the subject. The mere thought of Cyndra’s betrayal still infuriated and hurt her, but Chrysalis couldn’t help but remember how she had loved her daughter.
And just like it had been several hours ago, Chrysalis still had no idea what to say to her daughter or what she was going to do.
There was a knock on the door. Before Chrysalis could say anything, Lamia eagerly told the visitors to come in, and just like that, the door slowly swung open.
Despite a moment of hesitation, Chrysalis’s eyes settled on Cyndra, her daughter. While Chrysalis noticed that Cyndra’s carapace shone from being washed and polished, the changeling queen could easily see the exhaustion in her daughter’s features. But they vanished as Cyndra saw her and froze.
“Come in, Cyndra,” said Chrysalis.
Her daughter nodded and quickly walked in, revealing Princess Luna behind her.
“Queen Chrysalis, do you wish to be alone with your daughter, or would you like me to be present as a mediator?” asked Luna.
Chrysalis flinched, her first thought telling her to reject the offer, but her instinct stopped her from opening her mouth.
“You may come in, but I would request you keep your comments to yourself,” said Chrysalis. Luna nodded and entered the room, walking past the changelings to sit herself down, slightly away from them, enough so that she wouldn’t be noticed.
With the alicorn settled, Chrysalis turned her attention back to Cyndra. She was looking up at her with trembling eyes, lips pressed tightly together. Not surprisingly, Chrysalis could sense her daughter’s worry and fear.
“Cyndra, I’ve heard from Lamia about your actions in Canterlot. Why you returned to Celestia’s chambers and why you betrayed our hive. Do you have anything else to say about this?” asked Chrysalis. There was no emotion in Chrysalis’s features. All her anger, pain, and uncertainty were held back. She didn’t know how long she could keep this up, though.
Cyndra swallowed. “Mother, I trust Lamia to have explained everything to you just as I would have said it.” Cyndra sniffed and blinked, temporarily breaking contact with Chrysalis’s gaze. “I just want you to know that I am so sorry for what I did. I should have trusted you and never revealed those secrets. But I did, and I have no excuse left for doing so.”
“Why did you not trust me, Cyndra?” demanded Chrysalis, her eyes glaring at her daughter. Cyndra didn’t flinch, but she did glance away from her mother’s gaze.
“I was too scared for you. I didn’t believe in you, so I panicked,” croaked Cyndra, the guilt on her face all too evident to Chrysalis’s eyes.
Chrysalis’s stoic facade collapsed as her features twisted into a snarl. “I trusted you. We changelings would usually never exile our kind. It’s too dangerous. But I trusted that you would not betray our hive and you did. How could you do that to us?” Chrysalis stopped herself from screaming, but she could not prevent her anger and hurt from seeping into her voice, the sheer intensity of which forced Cyndra to bow her head.
“I know. I am sorry that I failed you. I have no right to show my face here after all I’ve done.” Chrysalis didn’t immediately respond to that statement. She just silently watched Cyndra blink her rapidly moistening eyes with indifference.
“So why did you come?” asked Chrysalis coldly. Cyndra shut her eyes and planted her hooves onto the carpet. Chrysalis pondered why her daughter appeared to be bracing herself, until she heard her.
“I… I was just so glad I had a chance to see you again, Mother,” said Cyndra, quietly.
There was a sharp intake of breath, and it was only after a moment that Chrysalis realized it was hers. Her rage and the pain… had suddenly vanished. They were still there, but Chrysalis’s chest seemed lighter somehow.
“I…” Chrysalis gulped and closed her mouth, forcing a familiar mask of blank stoicism back upon her features. Cyndra had betrayed her, hurt her, given Celestia and Luna a weapon that could have been used against their hive. She could not forget her daughter’s actions, even if it brought back the pain in her heart.
“You’re welcome, but I am afraid we cannot see each other again. ” said Chrysalis. She heard Lamia’s moan and tried her best to ignore it, but it made her cringe on the inside. Strangely enough, the odd lightness she had felt had dissipated. Only the heavy, throbbing pangs in her chest remained, but had they worsened?
“I know, Mother. But I thank you for meeting with me. O-one last time.” As Cyndra’s bowed and then raised her head, Chrysalis was met with the full sight of her daughter’s eyes brimming with tears.
Chrysalis’s chest exploded into agony. It was as if a dragon’s claw had stabbed itself into her chest and was twisting her heart. She nearly turned away from Cyndra, but she didn’t. What was she feeling? There was anger, pain… and sorrow? Why? Cyndra had hurt her. Cyndra had doubted her. Cyndra had betrayed her despite all the trust and care that Chrysalis had lavished upon her. So why was she feeling so sad?
“Good luck, Cyndra,” said Chrysalis, her emotions in such a flux she barely even managed those three simple words.
“T-thank you, Mother. Lamia, c-c-can I see you later tonight?” stammered Cyndra. She was smiling. Chrysalis didn’t know how or why she cared that her daughter was somehow able to smile. She did know that Lamia was crying, her only eye bright with tears.
“Yes. I’ll be there,” sniffled Lamia.
“Thank you. I’ll be off.” Cyndra bowed to Chrysalis, one more time, before she turned around and slowly trotted away, every hoofstep perfectly measured. Silently, Luna followed Cyndra out of the door without a single sideways glance at Chrysalis. The pair exited the room and Luna used her magic to swing the door shut.
“Wait,” whispered Chrysalis. Nopony or changeling heard her. The door had passed forty-five degrees and continued on its way to the frame. Chrysalis didn’t know why she had whispered. All she knew was that something was wrong. There was a horrifying sense of doom that filled her mind. As the milliseconds ticked by like sand draining through an hourglass, Chrysalis wracked her mind, her memory, for an answer, anything to explain why she felt like she had made the biggest mistake in the world. Something had to tell her why something inside of her seemed to have died.
As she recalled Cyndra’s forced smile, she stumbled across a recent thought. Something she had deemed unimportant, one of her odd musings.
The very last thing her mother had done was to smile at them. Not just to Alternia, to them, to her. Chrysalis had pondered why for years, but she had never figured out why, or how she had managed it.
Chrysalis suddenly realized why. Chamelia hadn’t wanted her daughters to be saddened by her death, so she smiled. Why didn’t Chamelia want her daughters to be saddened? Because she was a loving mother. How had she been able to overcome the pain of Chrysalis’s betrayal and the furious fighting between her and Alternia?
Because she had forgiven them.
“WAIT!” screamed Chrysalis.
But the door had closed.
And Chrysalis smashed right through it.
Cyndra thought that there was an attack going on as a sickening crunching sound blasted her ears from behind. Knocked out of her despair, the changeling spun around and stared, noticing beside her that Luna’s jaw was agape.
The door to the changeling quarters was knocked off its hinges. Correction, the hinges appear to have been torn away as the door had been forced open from the other side. Standing in front of the permanently opened doorway was the disheveled, panting form of her mother, Chrysalis.
“Wait, Cyndra… I…”
The changeling queen paused and grimaced. Cyndra blinked as her mother appeared to be wrestling with something she wanted to say.
“Your betrayal… it hurt. I was furious at you. I am still angry at you. Every time I look at you, my heart hurts because I trusted you and yet you betrayed me and our hive,” said Chrysalis, her voice burdened with emotion. When confronted by it, Cyndra felt herself wilt like a flower.
So what Chrysalis said next floored her.
“But… I want to try to forgive you,” said Chrysalis, her lips rising into a tired, but earnest smile.
There were two gasps. Cyndra wasn’t really listening, but she supposed they were Lamia’s and Luna’s. The joy that was filling the little changeling had blinded all of her senses to everything, but her mother who was standing in front of her.
“I am… I am changing your sentence. You cannot return to the hive as of now” - Cyndra’s ears drooped - “but you will no longer be driven away on sight, for I am assigning you a new role.”
Cyndra blinked, unsure of what her mother was planning to do. But Chrysalis was smiling, so Cyndra decided to trust her mother.
“You are hereby sentenced to serve as the personal liaison between Celestia and myself for ten years. As you have served as her maid for several years, she trusts you. Meanwhile, I need a changeling I can trust who can carry messages between Celestia and myself, speak to Celestia on my behalf and be attentive enough to write me monthly reports of the progress on changeling integration and pony attitudes towards changelings in Canterlot. Aside from any courier assignments you may undertake between Celestia and myself, you will be required to report to me personally every month.” Cyndra did not miss the implications of Chrysalis’s statement. She was being allowed back to the hive. She could go home to see her family! Cyndra nearly leaped forward to embrace her mother in the tightest hug she could, but then she remembered.
“But Mother… I betrayed your trust… are you sure you can trust me?” asked Cyndra, unable to shake her feelings of guilt and her recollection of her mother’s anger.
Chrysalis winced and didn’t say anything at first. But then she stepped forward and gently touched Cyndra’s cheek, like she had always done.
“I... I would like to. You are my daughter, after all… and I love you.” Cyndra’s eyes widened. “I know I may not always show it, and there are times I forget, but I love you, and I always will,” said Chrysalis.
Cyndra was moving before she could stop herself. Right after Chrysalis had finished her last sentence, Cyndra had buried herself into her mother’s warm embrace, an embrace that she had not felt in several long, lonely, years. An embrace that she had come so close to losing.
“I love you too, Mom. I love you so much!” sobbed Cyndra, tears pouring from her eyes. Tears of relief, of joy, of love.
“I love you too, Cyndra,” sobbed Chrysalis, nuzzling the daughter she had nearly lost.