by Europa
Twilight, now three hundred years old and having long ago grown into her full Princess-Luna esque alicorn height (Luna herself had grown to match Celestia), cuddled with her wife in the crystal palace. It was one of those lazy days, where the hive was at rest and the country was at peace, and there was nothing for them to do but sit back with each other and enjoy the others' presence.
They were both on a couch, Chrysalis laying under her and Twilight on top of her. They were both tangled in each others' limbs, and Twilight rested her head on the larger equines' chest, listening to her heart thumping through the carapace.
It was almost pitch dark, and the only light was the gentle bioluminescence of Chryssy's irises. The light from them reflected in a hundred thousand ways off of the crystalline walls, casting the chamber in a dim green glow.
Twilight was barely awake, as was Chrysalis. Both their eyes kept drooping, so the green light wavered as she did so. Twilight continued to look into them as long as she could, losing herself in the tinted sclera, the exotic double-iris and slit pupil, a gentle light flowing from them. But the call of sleep was too much to resist. She relaxed her head against her wife's, and fell into blissful slumber.