//------------------------------// // Chapter Fifteen // Story: Maternal Instinct // by Magic Man //------------------------------// Maternal Instinct Chapter Fifteen Pupa was discharged from King Cocoon Hospital an hour after her mother arrived, following a brief consultation with Dr. Kemushi and the hospital staff in which they confirmed the Princess was fit enough to leave their care. They then promptly ordered the squadron of guards stationed around the hospital perimeter to escort the Queen, her daughter and her nanny back to the palace. At this announcement, everychangeling in the room saw Pupa grinning and her cheeks turning green. She knew she was going home and it brightened her heart. Chrysalis first suggested simply teleporting themselves back into the citadel’s walls, but Cerci, along with most of the doctors, disagreed with the idea, fearing Pupa was in a too fragile state for magical transport. After some convincing, Chrysalis relented and they ended up taking one of her personal carriages instead, surrounded by the guards. Cerci held Pupa in her legs for the whole journey, keeping her all nice and bundled up in a fresh pink cotton blanket, while the tiny changeling was already dozing off again, dipping her head into her carer’s chest as if it were a soft pillow. The Queen sat stoically opposite them, leaning forward to scratch behind her daughter’s ear. Once they arrived inside the citadel, the group quietly entered the palace through one of the hidden entrances in the back. However, they were quickly recognized and besieged upon by a swarm of excited maids, honing in on Cerci and their prized Princess. Cerci glared at them, bared her fangs and let out an intimidating hiss, cowing them back like an alpha mare would her herd. There was not a chance in Tartarus of her letting any of those opportunistic harpies get a hoof on her baby. Chrysalis stepped in front of the nanny like a dark wraith, her wings flaring out as her eyes became cold and unforgiving before the mass of servants. Her wings buzzed with a terrible shivering sound, rattling ominously and warning them all to back down. From behind her, she heard Pupa’s faint hissing voice. She fought back the urge to crack a small smile. “Begone!” Chrysalis commanded, dismissing them with a snap of her jaw and they all scattered like a mass of cockroaches escaping the light. She then looked over her shoulder at Cerci, jerking her head in the direction of the hall. “Take her up to her room and put her to bed, Cerci. The guards will accompany you.” Bowing her head, Cerci’s wings came alive and carried her buzzing down the hall with Pupa held up to her shoulder, the squadron following after them. Pupa’s and Chrysalis’ eyesights met one last time, and the mother tentatively waved her hoof goodbye. Too bad it was also caught sight by one of the guards, who grinned sheepishly beneath his helmet visor. The Queen felt herself break out in goosepimples in revulsion at the ideas she had just planted in that fool’s head. There was an extreme likelihood he would be off later to brag to his fellow guards about how their Queen made a pass at him. “You there, wait behind.” It was not that particular guard she halted and took aside but the leader of the group who had been catching her eye for a while now. This guard was a young, strongly-built mare, the kind she knew possessed a stunning face that was shamefully being hidden under her purple helmet. She clicked her hooves, straightened her back and bowed to her monarch in the military fashion she practiced every morning in front of a mirror. “Your Majesty.” “Lieutenant, see to it your changelings are stationed at my daughter’s door at all times,” Chrysalis commanded. “Only Cerci and I are to be allowed in, understood?” “Yes, my Queen.” “And while I have you, relay a message to Captain Beetle’s office.” She tapped the bottom of her lip, thinking through her words, similar to when she was ordering her secretaries to take a letter. “Tell him he is to come to my chamber first thing tomorrow. It’s matter of grave importance.” “I will.” “Oh, and one more thing before you go... ” She next did something that caught the young guard by surprise: the monarch took her by the chin and stared intently beyond the visor at her pretty azure eyes, “Tell me your name.” Her stoic exterior starting to crack and appearing visibly uncomfortable, the guard answered uneasily, “S… Shatterback, my Queen?” “Shatterback,” Chrysalis echoed quietly with an approving smile, reaching over and delicately wiping a tiny smudge off her helmet. “That’s a fitting name for a… tall, strong, up and coming member of the Royal Guard. I’ll have to remember that.” She chuckled at hearing the mare’s gulp and chose to end this torture session. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant Shatterback.” Shatterback hesitated for a second before she bowed and took her rather hurried leave, adjusting her helmet to conceal her bashful face. When there was not a single changeling left within earshot, Chrysalis shook her head and broke out in a fit of laughter. It got them every time! She wandered aimlessly around her grand estate in a state of reflection, apathetically taking in the sights she and her family took for granted. Time had emblazoned every room and corridor on her memory. Chrysalis thought long and hard about what she was going to do next. She had spent an enormous amount of time and energy undoing the worst mistake of her live, and now her top priorities were unquestionably her resumption of her royal duties. Fair or not, Chrysalis still had to be a Queen first and a mother a close second; the cabinet needed their Queen like a flock of sheep needed their dog to guard and herd them. But the looming reprimanding of Captain Beetle was one duty she did not look forward to. As loyal and refreshingly competent Beetle proved himself to be during his tenure as Captain of her Royal Guard, the Queen could not turn a blind eye to how a squad of Equestrian Guards easily marched their way into her daughter’s hospital room on his watch. That their intrusion was likely vital in helping save her life did not change that. She sincerely hoped for Beetle to have a proper explanation, if only a credible excuse. She hated the thought of possibly looking for some other oversized, bulked out changeling to fill his armour. It got her thinking, however, about what this incident truly said about the state of affairs her once proud military was in. By all accounts, as far as she was aware, Beetle’s subordinates conducted themselves in the manner of what was expected of them, yet they were unable to stop a bloody bird that looked like an oversized firecracker from breaching their perimeter. If all those assembled guards could not do even that, it made Chrysalis wonder whether or not they might as well have stayed home. That meeting with her generals now seemed so long ago when it was only days. Her Uncle’s ideas of military deduction were starting to look rosier when put into context. Either way, this troubling inefficiency needed to be dealt with. She could not hope to resume governing effectively with the present way the system worked. This was going to have to be a principle she needed to enforce across the board if she wanted to take the military in the right direction, regardless if it may have resulted in some officers she liked being demoted or axed. Dependability, efficiency and competence of her country’s ‘finest’ had to be priority. In order for their kind to take their rightful front seat in this world, they needed to once again tap into their unlimited well of ability and skill as opposed to only titles and archaic hierarchy. That good-looking dish Shatterback definitely looked like she had the makings for an important role in the future. She would have to keep a close eye on her and young guards and officers like her. But even when this unpleasantness was got under hoof, the next major issue to take priority for a very long time was a series of extensive political reforms. A long, arduous and painstaking process lay ahead for the Changeling Queen; it was one thing to run one’s mouth off about the wonders of political reformation, another to draw up the blueprints and get things done. Her cabinet of ministers were unlikely to offer much if any resistance to their Queen, but Chrysalis was still at a stump as to what precisely was to change and how far she should go. She did know one essential change would have to be delegating the royal prerogative to her more dependable politicians. Her stubborn pride and inability to trust them to do their jobs only made running her government all the more inefficient, so granting them greater responsibility and freedom was long overdue. It would also do well to take some unnecessary weight off her own shoulders, especially if she wanted to make good on her promise to Pupa to set more time aside for her. A good first step, no doubt, but in all likelihood, these reforms were going to end up taking major steps further, and that would then require time-consuming committees and changelings with the testicular fortitude to offer their own opinion. The distinct sound of fluttering wings brought her legs from autopilot to a standstill. She recognized she had wound up in the grand entrance of all places, and she stared searchingly up into the darkness. Another fluttering. Chrysalis hoped those damned bats had not returned. She was certain the last of those disease-ridden flying vermin’s disgusting colonies had been expunged from her palace years ago. A red flash shot across her field of vision, and she identified a large red and orange swooping down from the darkness. With grace and precision, it landed on the smooth wooden orb at the bottom of the grand staircase banister, holding its beak high and neatly folding its wings to its side. Chrysalis reacted to the alien beast’s appearance from out of nowhere with an amused grin and proceeded toward it with some caution. She stopped a couple of feet away from the creature, choosing rather to admire its exotic beauty and vibrant colours that popped in the darkness of its surroundings. The creature’s ownership was no wild guess. “Hmm, you must be Celestia’s pretty little firebird.” “She is a beautiful girl, isn’t she?” Rolling her bulbous bug eyes, the Queen peered through her gossamer locks at the alicorn descending the staircase, her perfectly white coat illuminated against the dark backdrop just like her pet’s. “What’ve you been up to?” Chrysalis asked indifferently, ignoring both her and her stern gaze. “Doing some sightseeing around your quaint home.” “How nice for you.” She held her hoof under Philomena’s beak, earning the phoenix’s curiosity and her little gold beads blinked. “I take it this is the animal to whom I owe my child’s life?” “Basically.” She nodded and began to stroke down the back of the bird’s tennis-ball-sized head and wings. It was like feeling through the inside of the finest, most expensive feathered pillow. “Well, then you’ve been a very good pet…” “Philomena,” filled in Celestia. ‘Now if that isn't yet another pretentious name...’ Chrysalis thought off-hoofedly, but brushed it off, slapping on a polite smile. “Wherever did you acquire such a magnificent beast?” Celestia arrived at the bottom steps and joined in showering her pretty bird with praise and affection. The phoenix clearly reveled in it and craned her neck for the equines to pet her and puffed out her chest proudly. “From an old mentor… and friend,” she replied, but she quickly brushed musings of old Starswirl aside in favor of the matters at hoof. She knitted her brow and fixed the Queen with an authoritative stare. “Chrysalis… we need to have another little talk.” Her focus on petting and preening the phoenix broke, as did her elevated mood, and she huffed, “Hmm, somepony sounds like she’s got a stick stuck up her flank. I take it this can’t wait?” “It really can’t.” “If you insist,” she huffed, not having the will to tell her no. “But let’s go somewhere where we won’t be disturbed.” “Any ideas?” Chrysalis thought about it, and jerked her gnarled spire up the staircase. “... Come with me.” Philomena chirped and took off her perch and flew after her. She noticed and tutted, “And I suppose your little firebird may come along if she wants.” “Would, um, some tea be possible?” Celestia asked, somewhat hopefully. “I always find it more pleasant to talk over some.” “... What is it with you and tea?” She shook her head. “Gyokuro?” “Please.” She sighed exasperatedly, “I’ll see what I can do.” The palace throne room, where royal court was held and possibly the most popular gathering place for changeling nobility. It was also here where the new kings and queens of the kingdom were crowned and their reigns began. Here, on the golden throne, Thorax and Chrysalis ascended to their destinies and one day Princess Pupa would also. Mahogany pillars divided the conspicuously pukish-looking green walls adorned by the countless spoils of generations of war, from swords to the banners of fallen armies. A dark, velvet-green carpet with gold floral patterns stretched across the marble floor from the double doors, all the way up the steps where the Queen’s golden, elaborately crafted throne stood in dust. Celestia needed to stop for a moment. It’s overtly Eastern design aside, a strange familiarity crawled up the princess’ spine as she walked through this immemorial hall for the changeling species. She could not pinpoint it precisely, but it was undoubtedly present. “It’s… certainly been a long time since I last stood hoof in this place,” she remarked wistfully as she finished absorbing her grandiose surroundings. “I honestly didn’t think I would have again, at least not in this generation.” “You’re probably not the only one…” Chrysalis shrugged as she climbed the steps onto the platform. After magically brushing away a bit of dust, she allowed herself to drop unceremoniously down onto the cushy seat of her golden throne. She stared down her muzzle at the Princess below her, though she was visibly struggling to make herself comfortable in her tight space; the throne certainly had not shrunken in the time she last sat on it. Philomena perched herself on the foreleg rest and stood there perfectly still without so much as a flinch. The Queen was not offended by her presence. In fact, she thought it complimented her regal appearance. “Don't become jealous, Celestia, but I think your beast is actually taking a liking to me.” “My Philomena always has had an affectionate streak,” she remarked. “From what I’ve gathered, she really likes your daughter too.” “Of course she would.” Chrysalis smirked proudly, holding a hoof over her chest. “Every creature thinks my filly is precious. I ought to give your pretty polly something...” Out of thin air, the Queen conjured up a gold dish and lowered it onto her lap. It was filled to the top with what the Alicorn made out as lumps of charcoal and bits of kindling. The phoenix leaned toward the tribute hungrily, sniffing its earthy aroma before snatching a coal lump in her golden beak and gobbling it whole. She belched up a tiny flame and dived right back into the feast thereafter. As the amusement of watching the fascinating creature gorging itself wore off, Chrysalis loosened her back muscles and melted into the padded backrest. She spoke just as languidly, “What is it you urgently need to discuss, Celestia? It better be important.” Celestia’s eyes drifted over briefly to the doors only a gallop’s distance away before returning to her fellow monarch. “Let’s wait till my tea gets here, shall we? First, I’d very much like to know; how did it go with Pupa?” A pang of discomfort flashed across the changeling’s facial muscles. “... Not terrible,” she said flatly. “I’m sure you’ll respect my keeping of details private, but if you must know, I’ve already brought her back here to the palace.” She pointed up at the ceiling. “She’s up in her room right now. Napping.” “That’s wonderful,” Celestia smiled, her face and mane perking up. “Because, as you surely know, I’d love the chance to meet the sweet thing before I return to Equestria, that is, pending your permission.” Under any normal circumstances, Chrysalis would have sooner thrust her horn into this pony’s throat before she would let her get within twenty feet of her family. But in the period of the last twenty-four hours, such a request was the least Celestia could have asked for. “We’ll see. And when will you be going home? Your ponies will start worrying that I’ve done something terrible to their beloved Princess. Again.” She chuckled, “Most likely tonight, don’t you worry. I won’t be hounding you for much longer.” “Well... maybe not ‘hounding’. I’d say more like ‘mildly bothersome’.” They heard one of the doors opening. Their eyes turned to see a heavily stacked tea trolley being pushed out onto the carpet by a small, lemon coated pony who looked like far too small for the job. “Wonderful.” Celestia eased the young mare’s struggle and magically wheeled the trolley forward to her side. She waited patiently while she allowed her to fill her a cup of that gyokuro green tea. “Thank you, dear, that’s the one.” Ponies had an expression they liked to use, something about never having a camera with them at the most appropriate moment. If that were the case, then Celestia most definitely wished she had one in her position right now, because the look on Chrysalis’ face deserved to immortalized in photograph. “Pardon me, but could you please tell us your name, dear?” she asked of the now very timid mare who was taking refuge behind the trolley, speaking to her in the tone of a warm, assuring teacher to a meek student. “If that is alright.” “Um…” The poor mare sounded like somepony had their hooves clasped tightly around her throat. “M-My name is…” She cleared her throat. “My name is Lemon Tart, Your Majesty.” “That’s right; such a nice name. Funnily enough, Chrysalis, I believe I had the pleasure of meeting her an hour ago, especially with Heavy Duty… and some other ponies I didn’t expect to find in your palace.” She took a smooth, practiced sip from her tea. “Hmm, this is nice. Would you like some, Chrysalis?” The Queen’s shaking hooves gripped the foreleg rest like they were trying to pull apart the solid gold. As the gears in her head turned, her expression began to read that of a frightened animal, one that had just walked into the world’s easiest trap. A pulse throbbed hard along her long neck, threatening to violently burst open. Her beloved pills were beckoning her! She may have attempted to say something if not for her jaw going into lock. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.” Chrysalis could only continue to bristle in silence with her eyes fixated on her lap, her voice still completely lost. How could she have made such an amatuer mistake? She was supposed to be the Queen of a race of shape shifting tricksters, yet it was Celestia who lured her straight into a trap like a duck to water. How could she have forgotten about the ponies? The sheepish servant poked her head from behind the trolley. “Umm, s-should I… leave, Your Majesty?” Her stammer and shifting eyes suggested she was rather unsure which royal she was supposed to be talking to. “You… have my permission to go.” Chrysalis felt herself physically deflate with each shaky breath she took. Celestia’s demeanor remained unchanged. “Leave the tea, please, dear.” While they waited for Lemon Tart to depart, desperately picking up the pace as if some supernatural power was waiting there to deliver her beyond the set of gilded double doors, Celestia herself was busy second guessing this little set-up of hers. She genuinely thought when the lucky opportunity arose back in the hallway, this would have been a more lighthearted, even funny means of beginning their negotiation. She was famous for her sense of humor and pranks, after all. In retrospect, it probably was not one of her more well thought-out ideas. “How did you find out?” Chrysalis finally said, raising her voice so it travelled and reached Celestia’s ears. “I was hungry.” She topped up her tea and sipped the fresh brew. “Call it chance.” “So... so is this what you were really scheming all along—” “Come now, Chrysalis, let’s please not go down that route,” she replied, frowning tiresomely and shaking her head. “Listen, your Uncle explained the situation to me back in the kitchen, and I am confident enough to take his word for truth. These ponies are criminal offenders who, without my knowledge, you’re essentially using as slave labour for your palace…” Her frown deepened. “And as a readily available snack for you and your family. Isn’t that right?” Chrysalis stared, unmoving. Her eyes shifted wildly; she was weighing her options in the fleeting time she had left to respond. She could not try to deny it; the cat was already out of the bag and yowling and denying it would only make it worse than it already was. After everything she had achieved, how much of her life she managed to salvage and the shocking progress she made with her worst enemy, now it all hung on a tightwire. Celestia now had her by the throat. She gave her filly the phoenix tears that saved her, and as far-fetched as it may have sounded… who was to say she could not take them back if she wanted? It was a chance she simply could not afford to take. Her fangs digged uncomfortably into her skin as she kept her head bowed in shame.“They are not slaves,” she mumbled. “Then let’s call it ‘indentured servitude’, something we have in Equestria actually…” “And you’ve brought me here to list your demands.” “Demands?” Celestia’s head lapsed the side, sounding quite sincere in her ignorance. This mocking display of naivety lit a fire in the Changeling Queen’s belly. A sudden anger overtook her, and she banged the golden rest with enough force it may have left a dent, making a frightened Philomena squawk and nearly tipping over her dish of coal treats. Chrysalis, remembering the creature’s existence, patted her on the back to calm the bird down. The act proved mildly therapeutic for the changeling and her blood pressure eased. “Oh, but of course that’s what you’re after,” she growled lowly, her eyes narrowed and baring her fangs; the effect might have been intimidating if the Alicorn possessed even the slightest inkling of fear of her, which she did not. “Don’t beat me around the bush, Celestia. You want me to release all your precious, can-do-no-wrong little ponies immediately or face the consequences, do you not?” The anger rose in her chest again and she added with an extra venomous hiss, “So they can frolic back with you to Equestria, isn’t that right?!” While the Queen went about her little rant, Celestia only observed her vexation with a placid, perfectly straight face. “I don’t demand, Chrysalis, I prefer to negotiate,” She spoke evenly at first, but pressed on assertively just as Chrysalis was about to run her mouth off again, “And if you’d listen with your ears instead of your mouth for once, you’d be surprised to know I’ve actually met up with the ponies themselves, and they told me all about their crimes and their experiences under your care.” “No doubt they sugar-coated their ‘harrowing ordeals’ to their beloved Princess.” “Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t, but I’m intelligent enough to recognize they’re not blameless victims here. There’s a strong part of me that wants to see them freed, but as much as I care about my subjects…” she closed her eyes and sighed gently, “I couldn’t justify whitewashing their crimes and demanding their freedom on such flimsy grounds.” While she was listening to her and the sounds of Philomena absentmindedly shoveling and crunching coal in her beak, Chrysalis levitated a spare cup from the trolley and poured her own tea. She stirred it with the elegance and precision earned from a fillyhood of etiquette training by strict, draconian nannies, and then drained half its piping hot contents to hide her growing smirk. After having to stomach endless tripe about the infallible, beautiful and universally adored Sun Princess of Equestria her whole life, be able to absorb her humble admission about her own subjects filled Chrysalis with immense feeling of cathartic satisfaction. “It isn’t nice to learn your ponies aren’t the sweet and innocent angels you thought they were, is it? Oh well…” She set her tea aside to remain untouched and continued, “You wish to negotiate? Fair enough, I’ll play your game. What, dare I ask, do you seek?” The snide remark pearled off Celestia’s white coat like rainwater against a lotus flower’s leaf, and she took relief in that they now had the opening for negotiation she sought. “As you can imagine, I can’t return to Equestria without knowing for certain that these ponies’ rights and dignity are being respected. And that includes the right not to be trussed up like a turkey for you to drain for your breakfast!” She added the latter sentence in a conspicuously clipped tone, a flash of pique permeating her otherwise collected manner. “Oh, come now, we’re changelings, Celestia. Devouring love is kind of what we do. And besides, we only do that to the worst—” “Regardless, prisoners are still entitled to their rights, a convention I believe your ancestors signed up to and to which, therefore, you are also bound,” she pointed out, paraphrasing her versed knowledge in international politics and law. If there was anypony who served as a walking encyclopedia on such matters, next to Princess Twilight Sparkle, it was Celestia thanks to her centuries of first-hoof experience. “I only ask for assurance that my ponies are being treated with the same fairness and decency you’d expect from me if the situation were reversed.” Chrysalis sneered, resting her chin on her hoof, “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised that you couldn’t take me for my word alone.” “Given our history, I think you can hardly blame me.” “Then what would you propose if you’re so worried?” Now came the truly difficult part. “With your permission, I was thinking…” Celestia curled her lips upon noticing her tea growing cold and her jaw worked silently as she searched for the appropriate words, before going on more apprehensively, “Maybe we can establish a communication of sorts between our capitals. I could possibly assign a small team of intelligence ponies here in your citadel with the task of monitoring and reporting on the status of the pony servants.” Chrysalis reacted all too expectedly. “You mean your underlings on my soil? In my palace?! Out of the question!” she snapped, sounding downright insulted and even looking ready to jump up of her throne. “What do you possibly imagine to come out of such a ludicrous notion? You would trust sending your “intelligence” ponies to my palace when they proved themselves all but useless in the wake of my invasion of Canterlot?!” “If that’s what you are so concerned about, I can assure you the standards and training of our intelligence service have mostly improved since your incursion,” Celestia rebuked crossly, albeit both looking and sounding a bit struck by her cutting remarks. “You would have little to worry about their competence, Chrysalis.” She did not seem swayed in the slightest. “Oh ho, I’m sure…” “Well, regardless what you think of my serviceponies’ abilities, surely you must see it as a much more beneficial alternative to you than just freeing the prisoners here.” “Ah, but that’s not the only issue, Celestia,” she harumphed, crossing her forelegs. “Permitting those imbeciles to enter my realm would be bad enough, but I couldn’t possibly just allow what would be a catastrophic surrender of dignity of the throne!” “And why is that?” Chrysalis held her muzzle high with contempt, directing not only towards herself. “I am already about to enter murky waters with the future of my leadership and my army,” she explained bitterly. “If I were to do this, I would lose the respect of my family and peers. I may be the “Living Kami” to my average subject, but that will not always carry fiat with those at the top and who hold our country’s traditions most dear to their hearts.” She returned her glower down directly at Celestia. “And, if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t feel entirely comfortable being in a situation where, while you can relax in your comfortable position, I’m the one who must place all trust in you.” “Which I guess you don’t...” She inhaled harshly and fought against the pulse in her temple. “Chrysalis, tell me, what have I done since arriving here that suggests I am not acting within both our interests?” “I won’t ever forget what happened here, and my family is indebted to you, but whether or not you and I can trust each other now, you should well know that doesn’t mean you can trust my people... and nor can they you,” Chrysalis said with a strong hint of regret, of what precisely the Celestia was not entirely certain. “It is not as if I can tell my subjects who rescued their Princess from death, can I?” She took Philomena under her leg and allowed her to nestle on and warm her lap, tenderly stroking her on the back as the bird still stuffed herself autonomously. “The cold truth is I don’t think we’ll ever be able to bury this old hatchet of ours. There’s too much hurt and pain between us for that.” “But we are at a far different place than we were before, that must mean something. Look, what if…” Celestia rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Okay, what if I offered you something in exchange for you permitting my intelligence ponies into your palace? An insurance, if you will.” Chrysalis shifted a leg that had grown sleepy, and she and Philomena exchanged an awkward glance, as if the two were making a secret acknowledgement. Her focus returned to the Alicorn. “Even if there was a miniscule chance of me bending on this, I doubt there’s anything you could offer me or my people.” A sly gleaming could be seen in her magenta orbs and she trailed the cool tip of her slippered hoof along her bottom lip. “I’d be inclined to agree with you if not for that famine poised to strike in the south. Hmm?” She suddenly felt a desire for a second cup of that wonder tea and multitasked in pouring herself one and tenting her hooves while saying, “I’m thinking, what if our nations came to a mutual agreement? One to help relieve some of the suffering—” “We do not take hoofouts, Princess,” Chrysalis was quick to point out. “We’re not some squallored zebra or wildebeest country who will throw ourselves at your hooves begging to become your debt slaves. We have too much self-respect.” Celestia gave only the most princess like roll of her head and tutted, almost openly scoffing at the idea, “Oh, I have no intention of simply tossing aid at you, let me assure you. What I’m talking about is the possibility of us opening trade between our nations.” Now Chrysalis’ fang dug so deep it pierced her skin, drawing a negligible amount of blood, as if she were checking to see if she was in some sort of bizarre dream. It honestly would not have shocked the Changeling Queen if it was and that Celestia was nowhere near her castle and Pupa was still wired-up in hospital. Wearily she puffed out her cheeks. “Now I know you’re mocking me, Celestia, because I know for a fact your ponies would never comply with trading with us.” She heard Philomena cawing for attention and refilled her bowl, carlingly toying with her plume. “Especially none of your all-important toads in Canterlot.” “Ohh, I don’t know about that; I’ve worked miracles with my subjects before,” said the Princess, a tad unintentionally condescending than she intended as she waved her hoof demonstratively. “If you recall, I got them to accept the inclusion of two more alicorn princesses pretty easily, and there are now thousands of your changelings moving to Equestria to start new lives there. And I’m sure, with correct tact and persuasion, my parliament will warm up to the idea of a trade agreement.” Chrysalis still did not look at all convinced, as reflected by the way she regarded her with her glazed, unimpressed bug eyes. “Okay. So you’re going to talk with all your biggest plot kissers and get them to basically brush aside years of bad blood and start doing business with us,” she said, “Many of your ponies still want me tried for war crimes, you know that, right?” “Think about it: when push comes to shove, what do you truly think matters to all my nobility and businessmares above all?” When Chrysalis only shrugged uncaringly, she shot her an arched brow and a wry grin. “They care most about their money. I’ve no doubt many ponies still hold bitter feelings about the invasion, but as far as my more powerful subjects are concerned, well…” She did not restrain herself from a weak, self-deprecating laugh. “You’d be surprised how their rhetoric softens once they realize an opportunity to make a lot more money, especially with your large, expendable workforce of changelings.” Though she did well not to let it show, Chrysalis’ intrigue was growing. Celestia’s argument was not without merit: money made the world go round, transcending most feuds and ideological conflict; she knew that well. Equestria and the Griffin Empire were first to come to mind as a relevant example. The historical ties between the two superpowers were long and complex, including many wars and alliances at various points in history. Since those turbulent times, the nations had become each other’s biggest trading partners while simultaneously forming the largest trade relationship in the world. They gained so much more out of scratching each other’s backs then banging each other’s heads in. Now say Celestia organized her top political lapdogs and PR ponies and got them to explain to her teat sucklers the benefits of investing in the Changeling Kingdom. Chrysalis had a firm enough grasp on the economic reality to know the best benefits her country could reap from such a deal would be stagnation, which was a far better alternative to perpetual decline. The looming southern famine, unavoidable at this point, was presently projected to claim the lives of up to two million changeling peasants by starvation. But if Equestria’s precious resources were to start streaming into the country many of these needless deaths and a national catastrophic could be prevented. “And all it would require on your part is allowing me to keep tabs on only a hundred and fifty ponies,” Celestia said. “I can’t force you to agree, but I hope that you will consider it.” The Queen fixed her with a cool, calculating stare, but an actual response, even just another snide remark, appeared totally lost on her. She appeared to be thinking and thinking hard on all they had been discussing. “So do I have your attention?” “I can’t say I’m unmoved at the idea of millions of hatchlings actually going to bed with their bellies full,” Chrysalis replied, keeping her face straight enough that it was hard for the Princess to read. “I do have a question, though, if you don’t mind: are there any changelings currently working in your castle, under what you call this “indentured servitude”, by any chance?” “There are a few, none in indentured servitude, mostly doing cleaning and cooking,” she answered cautiously. Celestia was embellishing that a bit; yes, there were relegated the more menial jobs in her castle, but there were more than just a few of them. They had proved themselves to be diligent, hard workers and a fine addition to the castle staff. Still, she had a fairly good idea what the follow up question was going to be. “In that case, I think a small delegation of my own checking on their status would be fair, don’t you agree?” “We could… work something out.” She saw no real harm in going along with her request, since it did offer an equilibrium at least and, by the sound of it, further warm the Queen up to the deal. “Of course, both sides would then need to be kept under the same regulations to ensure they only monitor the staff.” “That is reassuring,” Chrysalis spoke smoothly, seemingly satisfied in her victory of this additional condition, but maintained her serious disposition. “But don’t start thinking I’m going to just start making you any on-the-spot promises.” “I know you can’t, but the most important thing is it’s on table, no?” She breathed a conceding sigh, “Yes.” “That’s all I wanted to hear.” Her eyes passed over to the bird still off in her own little world on the Queen’s lap, scraping at the bottom of the dish and pushing her gag reflex to its limit. She gave her a little whistle, “Philomena! Come here, pretty girl!” Poor Philomena looked so full that her belly kept her skinny peg legs from standing herself up, but Chrysalis was there to kindly pick her up with her magic and give her an encouraging pet on the head. The phoenix then forced her wings to flap against her bloated discomfort and she flew haphazardly back to her owner, who smiled sympathetically and took her and carefully set her up on the back of her withers, giving her a gentle nuzzle too. “I thank you immensely for your audience, Your Majesty,” Celestia dipped her head in an ever respectful bow. Remaining stone-face, Chrysalis took the show of respect at face value and nodded, saying, “It has been… enlightening.” As the pair of the most powerful mares on the planet were about to part ways, the Equestrian diarch had just one more thing she felt the need to say in their privacy. She did not get the opportunity though, as Chrysalis’ sensitive changeling ears twitched at the sound of hooves thudding against metal. She looked around in search of its source, which she detected as being only a stone’s throw away, right behind the ornate entrance. “What is it?” asked Celestia concerned. A quiet growl emanated from her throat and Chrysalis stood up, albeit with some struggle, from her throne. She regained her dignified posture, repositioning the strands of hair from her eyes and waiting for her breath to normalize before descending the short steps and marching in the direction of the double doors. She gave a silent gesture to the Princess to set her tea back on the abandoned trolley and follow her. Upon reaching the other end of the room, Chrysalis’ horn glowed and took control of the left door handle. She held her hoof to her lips and shushed her counterpart, waiting a few beats before twisting the handle and yanking the door open. A small group of five changelings piled onto the floor in a clownish heap. Chrysalis identified them all as young, lumpish politicians, who had been pressing their ears up against the golden doors all this time, listening in on her and Celestia’s conversation. She looked up and spotted her uncle standing over the sorry sight, shaking his head wearily and grumbling. “Out.” She uttered the one syllable with a voice so full of ice the only things the clique left behind were trails of their own molted fur and skin on the carpet. “You’d think they’d be smart enough to know to bug a room,” Celestia tutted, her mind going back to her own ladder climbers back home. The ones here had to be real freshmares. “I’m sorry for that, Niece,” said Prince Pincer, bowing to her. He saw the alicorn bringing up the rear and his tone shifted. “Have you and Princess Celestia managed to…” “More or less.” Chrysalis held up a hoof to put the conversation on hold as her somewhat uneasy eyes returned to her rival. “Princess, do you think you can grant us a moment, please?” Instead of doing the expected thing and being shocked to hear Chrysalis courteously asking her something—Twilight’s jaw would have dropped so far it would crack the floor had she borne witness to the exchange—Celestia only retained her serene expression. “Of course, Your Majesty.” “If you’d like, perhaps you can head up to my daughter’s room,” she offered as Celestia was about to take her leave with Philomena in tow. “I’m sure she’d be over the moon to meet you, as well as seeing sweet little Philomena again.” Now it was Pincer whose jaw looked ready to drop off. Even Celestia herself did not appear entirely prepared for that. “Really?” both asked simultaneously. “And why not? I recall you expressing a great interest in meeting my hatchling face-to-face not too long ago. It’s only right, given she’d not be with us if not for your intervention.” Bowing her head in respect, Celestia replied, “In that case, I’d be honored.” She rubbed her cheek against her darling firebird’s. “Would you like that, sweetie? Hmm? You wanna go and see Pupa again?” The overfed creature poorly nuzzled her mistress back, who gave her a wet, tender kiss square on the beak in return. “Okay. Let’s go, my pretty girl.” “Do you need to be shown the way?” Chrysalis swallowed her own vomit induced by the display of tooth-rotting sentimentality. She actually treated the creature as if she pushed it out of her womb as a chick; it got her to wondering if this was what happened to any being like Celestia who lived for so long without having children of their own. “No no, we’ll manage. I’ve visited this palace in the past several times.” Her leg dithered in midair just as she began her canter down the hall. She rolled her head back over her shoulder and asked, “Her room, it’s the same one you had, right? Back when you were only a tubby little hatchling yourself?” Chrysalis’ left eyebrow twitched. “Yes.” Her admission was less than enthusiastic. She beamed one last innocent smile and disappeared into the perpetual darkness of the dimly lit hallways, her phoenix giving off one last reverberating caw as the alicorn’s hoofsteps crunching against the carpet completely fading. Only when she was dead sure she was out of earshot, and waiting for a good additional while, Chrysalis took her uncle aside, hiding behind a remarkably uninteresting vase upon a pedestal. “I’m quite sure super hearing isn’t one of her many abilities,” he spoke quietly with the understanding that she desired to keep their conversation as private as possible. She gave one last paranoid look over her shoulder. “Uncle, listen… I know this is going to sound absurd, but…” she whispered, unable to mask her stupefaction. “I think the tide has turned with the white witch.” “I know.” “What?” “I heard what you were talking about, I was listening in as well,” Pincer only waved his hoof dismissively at her glare. “What else do you think I was doing out here? Dusting off cob webs? I spotted meddlesome eavesdroppers huddling after that pony with the tea and, well, let’s just say my curiosity got the better of me. But that’s beside the point, Chrysalis, this right here, this is a game-changer!” But the Queen did not look to share this enthusiasm. “I know it is… but can we trust her enough to deliver her end of the deal?” “She is Princess Celestia,” he reasoned. “In her defence, she has one of the cleanest records there is. Don’t forget that we have something she needs too.” He made a perfectly valid point there. One of Celestia’s strengths, as well as one of her weaknesses besides her overconfidence in her subordinates, was that she go to whatever links to protect the interests of her subjects. On hoof, this was good; it made her more malleable to their own needs. But on the other, more sinister hoof which worried Chrysalis the most, how far exactly would the all-powerful alicorn princess be willing to go to ensure her little ponies were safe? She grimaced, “There’ll be a catch, there always is. She won’t just settle for keeping tabs on a bunch of noponies. She’ll try and weasel in something else, I’m sure of it.” “Does that surprise you? Of course there will.” The old officer pressed his face close to his niece, glancing beyond her for a moment at the corner Celestia had passed through. He then went on to say, cautiously optimistic, “Even Celestia isn’t above that. But the most important thing here is to keep this window of opportunity open. We can’t afford to lose it, not with the lives of so many of your subjects at stake.” “Then it’s Celestia who has us by the horn on this matter.” Chrysalis could not help but follow his eyes with a flick of her head. Her voice carried an amalgamation of desperate hope and fear she would never dare vent upon anychangeling but her uncle, her trusted confidant. “Then for our people’s sake, I guess, the best thing to do is go along with it. At least for the time being.” “I don’t think there’s a lot else we can do.” They emerged from behind the pedestal, their course of action clear and secure in that they were not being spied on by Celestia or other bothersome changelings. Chrysalis neatly brushed down her mane and any dust that had accumulated in these hallways before readdressing Pincer once more. “Now you realize this information must remain strictly confidential.” There was a darker, colder glint in her eye as she told him this. “Those… other little upstarts spying on us, they overheard too much. I think you know what I want done about them.” The seasoned Gensui straightened himself in the military manner he was accustomed to, his face one of grim determination. “I shall see to it, my niece.” He was about to bow to her, but stared up at her quizzically. “You are referring to the memory spell, right?” “Y… yes, Uncle,” she blinked and shook her head slowly in her hoof like a metronome. “The same one we use on the ponies once they finish their sentence, yes. What did you think I was talking about?” Pincer blushed slightly with the bashfulness of a young changeling who had embarrassed himself in front of his commanding officer. “Well, heh heh, I’ll just say we’ve avoided a most unfortunate misunderstanding. But before I go attend to that business, there’s one more thing…” He recomposed himself and held out his hoof, and Chrysalis stared at it as if she were expected to take it. A bright flash occurred wholly in the confines of his hoof, going by so fast and blindingly bright it might have triggered a seizure in more sensitive eyes. Chrysalis’ mouth opened in a mute gasp; he held in hoof a small black crown with four blue-jewelled prongs sticking out the top. Her crown. “Your sister wanted me to return this back to you.” Chrysalis took her crown in her magic and delicately, gracefully raised it and set it atop of her head where it felt so naturally at home. She now truly looked like a Queen again. And to think only the other day she was upset enough she merely threw it away at her sister in her irrational grief. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Just promise me one thing, Chrysalis?” he began his laboured trek down the hallway, old age and signs of rheumatism evident in his walk. “Don’t let it slip from you again.” “I won’t, Uncle. That I can promise you.” Chrysalis’ legs stayed soldered to the dents in the expensive carpet, her eyes fixed upon some distant, unseen point of the horizon. Any lingering thoughts of abdicating her throne were now an obscure memory. “None of this will ever happen again.” “You are the cutest little thing, aren’t you?” The Alicorn Princess curled up into the bed, her haunches to sink into the soft mattress, cradling her wriggling changeling counterpart with the care and expertise of a doting mother. She bounced Pupa up and down, making funny faces and foal noises, and in return listened to her foalish giggling with the most motherly of smiles. A child’s pure, innocent laughter like hers could melt even the iciest hearts. Celestia adored children, more than she loved scoffing expensive cakes. They were such small things, so tender and fragile. They had those pudgy, pinchable cheeks and stubby little hooves always reaching out to grab whatever was in front of them. On multiple occasions she even took the time for her castle servants’ own foals, she loved being around them and holding them that much. Now she held a changeling filly in her forelegs, a princess and the offspring of one of her worst enemies no less, and it was no less tender an experience. The moment she laid eyes on little Pupa, she felt her heart swell and overcome with the desire to take her and gobble her up. She was just so adorable. The sight of her in all those bandages and the patchwork of bruises on her fur was enough to sink the alicorn’s heart. Seeing any child so banged up was upsetting for any regular pony, but on the plus side, she did look miles better than her previous state in the hospital with colour having returned to her skin and an upbeat smile that lifted Celestia’s spirits as well. It did take Celestia by surprise though how—how could she put it gently?—hefty Pupa turned out to be. She encountered little porkers like her before, but this had to be the first time she remembered straining to pick a filly up. The child’s nanny was fast asleep in a dignified loafing position beside the bed, with her legs folded neatly underneath her body and her chin tucked into her chest. A hatchling’s crib stood half-built in the bedroom corner, blueprints, bolts and planks laying scattered on the carpet. When Celestia arrived at the bedroom, she decided to spare the already frazzled mare of the shock, so she performed a little charm that encouraged Cerci to lay down for a good, long sleep. The poor dear looked like she direly needed a rest. Pupa herself was having a whale of a time as she shrieked and writhed in her unending fit of laughter. She never met a pony so up close before, nor did she ever imagine one as big as her mother and with both wings and a horn. She had no idea who this pony was or why she played with her, but she was without doubt the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her alabaster coat, softer and plusher than any of her toys or changeling fur, radiated with the warmth of the sunlight shining through the palace windows. Her swan-like wings elegant yet powerful, shimmering even in the muted light of her bedroom. But best of all, Pupa really, really liked her mane! Never before had she seen one like it, a spectrum of colours flowing around her like in the cosmic depths of space. She reached out to the mare, desperate to feel the otherworldly hair for herself and rub it against her face. Her fixation on it was enough to distract her from her hunger brought about by the immense love radiating off the pony like the rays of the sun itself, though even then Celestia had nothing to worry about; she had no idea how to suckle love for herself. Celestia saw her wonderment and, deciding to indulge her some more, laid her head against the warmth of her bosom and cradled the rest of her fragile body in one of her strong, muscular legs, using her free hoof to trail a circle along her pot belly. She lowered a thick lock of her mane in front of the tyke’s face, close enough for her to grab it greedily for herself. Wincing from the tingling pain in her scalp, she grinned through it and watched as the ecstatic Pupa smothered her face against her ethereal mane, totally enthralled in its beauty, its stunningly smooth texture, and its foreign, untraceable scent; the closest the filly’s mind could compare it to was a new, exotic fruit. She was sorely tempted to taste it too. “Let’s see if we can peg you, little one,” Celestia crooned, looking her over with a doting eye. “Hmm, well, you’re a sugar-coated cutie pie, no question about that.” She saw the glistening of saliva leaking from her lips. “You’re also clearly a dribbler.” Her eyes fell on her perfectly round and protruding poundage. “Oh, and you’re definitely a little pudding piler, aren’t you?” Celestia then gave her belly a prod, earning a giggle or two out of her. “Ohh, and it looks like somepony’s quite ticklish as well…” Pupa only caught a glimpse of the pony’s mischievous, gleeful smile when she hoisted her up and blew one powerful raspberry in the dead centre of her tummy tum. Pupa threw her head back and howled with laughter, able only to wiggle about helplessly in Celestia’s hug like a plate of plentiful jello. Celestia only continued her merciless assault, darting her muzzle in again and again. The filly’s giggling also proved contagious as it left her breathless from her own laughter by the time her cheeks became too sore. “Well, I’m sold,” she wiped a single tear from her eye and choked on another chuckle. Pupa too was rendered an awoken baby sloth from the bouncing ball of energy she was just previously. “I officially want to wrap you up and take you home with me. Like a big piece of strawberry fudge!” She gazed down towards the foot of the bed. “Philomena, sweetheart, come up here, won’t you?” Philomena really did not want to shift from her snug spot on the fluffy mattress, which was providing a lot of relief for her painful bloatedness. She tucked her head and curled up into a petulant feathery red ball, prompting a tutting Celestia to teleport her right into her free leg. Now she held them both like a pair of newborn twins “Sweetheart, this is Philomena,” she said to Pupa, bringing them closer together. “She’s the one who helped you.” The child’s eyes sparkled and her mouth gawped in her childlike fascination at seeing what she first thought was an exceptionally well-made and pretty plushie. One might then imagine her surprise when the creature stuck her neck out and rubbed the end of her banana beak against her muzzle. “She’s a phoenix, Pupa, a really rare kind of bird. Her tears are what made you feel better.” Pupa continued to stare in amazement at Philomena, initially not knowing what to do or how to react. She had never been this up close to a living animal before beside the caged ones in her mother’s menagerie, so a degree of apprehension was to be expected. But the creature only reiterated her gesture of goodwill, this time rubbing her head under her chin, and the smaller Princess was soon enough won over. “Give her a hug,” Celestia prompted. “It’s okay. She won’t mind.” Driven by the desire to smother herself in the cushion of wonderful feathers, Pupa held her legs out to Philomena, inviting her into a hug. So Philomena clambered out of her mistresses’ hold and toward her cautiously, only to squawk as she was immediately ensnared by in Pupa’s small but strong legs in an absolute snuggleanche of a hug. At first, Philomena felt indignant and uncomfortable—even Celestia was giggling at her undignified situation—but soon found herself in a more comfortable position in Pupa’s easing embrace, settling her head in that warm gap between her shoulder and neck. Now the Sun Princess really wished she had a camera. She wanted so much to immortalize this precious image of her and Chrysalis’ baby wrapped in a loving embrace in her forelegs forever. Her photographic memory would have to suffice. Pupa yawned and hugged Philomena tighter like her own security blanket; the bird radiated an constant pleasant warmth that made her never want to let go. She needed more sleep; Celestia faintly remembered one of the doctors talking about how it was important for her getting better. Climbing carefully out of bed, Celestia proceeded to tuck both Pupa and Philomena under the cover, treating them with the same tender love and care she would her own young. “I guess I can leave the two of you alone for a little while,” she thought aloud as she stroked her hoof up and down the side of the child’s head. Philomena had already closed her eyes and dropped off, her body acting like a natural hot water bottle for Pupa. After a passage time in which Celestia remained standing over her bedside, still stroking her head, she reached down and gave the half-asleep Princess and her pet a light goodnight kiss. “Have sweet dreams, little one,” she whispered, her voice tickling her ear. “It’s been my pleasure meeting you.” She pecked her on the cheek again. “And I know we’ll see more of each other in the future.” A tranquil glow emitted from her horn and at last Pupa felt her dreams take hold. Celestia then left the room as silently and discreetly as she had entered. She looked back one more time at the slumbering Pupa with her phoenix curled up with her, a look of complete peace on her laxed face. No worries. No fears. No anxieties whatsoever. The Changeling Kingdom’s most cherished and prized daughter was back home where she belonged, safe and sound. Celestia had only one last musing while she doused the already dimmed lights off and steadily closed the door behind her. ‘Well, what do you know? In the end it seems we are all capable of talking, pony or changeling.’