Title: Last Breath
Pairing: Chrysalis/Noteworthy
He approached the throne carefully, dragging one hind leg. His queen kept up her baleful stare until he halted at a respectful distance and sank into an awkward bow.
“Majesty.”
“Report.” Her voice was clipped and toneless.
“Ponyville is … l-lost.” He tamped down a cough.
She sucked in a sharp breath through her nostrils in what he assumed to be anger. Keeping his head low, he waited for her response.
“How?”
“The librarian … T-Twilight Spark-kle.” The cough tickled the back of his throat. “A spell, my liege. She c-cast a spell to … dispel illusions. Cast over the whole t-town from a … b-balloon.”
It almost made him want to laugh. He had commented to Lyra only last week on how that hot air balloon went to waste when it could be used to better the town. He had meant by renting it out to other ponies and their businesses for advertising. Instead, it had been used to rain down destruction in glittering pieces of magic.
“The citizens … we were all stripped of our disguises. They p-panicked … mobbed … only a few of us g-got out.”
“Where are the others?”
“Captured.” He shut his eyes. “At least three were killed. Twilight Sparkle called for them to merely be restrained but the crowd … they were out of c-control. St … am … pede … hrrk!” The cough exploded from him in a shower of green blood. Without his permission, his body pitched forward and refused to obey when he tried to rise.
He must have faded out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, his queen was cradling his head. He blinked up at her, confused.
“My liege, you m-mustn’t …”
“Hush,” she snapped. “Lay still.”
Her horn glowed. He felt warmth moving through his body, like being in front of a fire after a day of throwing snowballs with friends. Thoughts of Lyra, Bon-Bon, Minuette and Caramel flashed through his brain. The look Lyra had given him when he changed form right in front of her: betrayal only just covered it. He hoped she hadn’t been part of the mob that cornered him and the other exposed changelings. Lyra put up a zany front but she was a soft soul. It had been so easy to sip from her love whenever Bon-Bon came to bring her lunch, or even just when he got her talking about her marefriend. She would never forgive herself if she thought she was responsible for his –
“Hrrk! Krrrkah!”
Blood splattered his queen’s downturned face. A large green globule dropped off her snout.
“M-My queen!” he said, aghast. “I ap-pologi–”
“Hush,” she said, much softer than before. He felt the warmth inside him prod at his hurts: at his cracked carapace, broken horn and half-severed leg. He sighed, even though none of them magically fixed themselves.
Her horn ceased to glow. The warmth inside him, however, maintained.
“Drone 23345, what name did you go by on your placement?”
His vision blurred. “N-Noteworthy, my queen,” he said with difficulty. “I posed as a stallion c-called … Noteworthy…”
She gently touched her forehead to his. He felt her love flow over him, through him, into him, filling him up. He realised with absolute clarity just how much she cared beneath her icy exterior. She loved all changelings with a deep and abiding emotion. And at this moment, this single crystalline moment, she loved him most of all.
“You did well, Noteworthy,” she murmured. “You deserve to rest now.”
“M-my … my …”
“Rest, dear Noteworthy.”
With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to claim him.