Plans Change

by Quill Scratch

Troubled Smile

Chapter 4
Troubled Smile

“TWINKLESHINE!”

Her mother’s voice echoed around her observatory, glass instruments ringing as they vibrated on shelves. Twinkleshine clenched her teeth together forcefully and closed her eyes, quill hovering still in a pink aura before her, paused mid-word. Slowly and deliberately, she took a deep breath in.

“GET YOUR FLANK DOWN HERE, YOUNG LADY!”

A rush of exhaled air forced its way through her lips, a sharp, guttural sigh of exasperation. The quill in front of her fell to the desk, discarded, as she swung a leg over the stool she was sitting at.

“What is it now, Mom?” she yelled back, hopping slightly as she extracted herself from the desk. She had been sitting too close to it again - she knew she ought to stop doing that but could hardly help the unconscious urge to pull her chair closer to her work when it got really interesting.

And tonight it had got more than just interesting. There was something new about the stars, a change in their relative motion unlike any she’d seen in her whole life. She’d noticed some small changes in the night sky since Luna had returned (the Princess kept changing the brightness of constellations and individual stars, no doubt trying to heighten their aesthetic appeal) but tonight had been a goldmine of new sightings. It was clear that the Princess had much more power over the night sky than Twinkleshine had previously observed and each change she spotted was falsifying a new part of her prior research.

Twinkleshine wasn't unhappy with the changes, though; she relished them. Every challenge to her models she had faced, until today, had broadened her understanding of the night sky and forced her to solve seemingly impossible conundrums. Tonight every one of her solutions was being proven wrong and Twinkleshine was almost drooling in anticipation of the challenge ahead of her.

Which was why she was more than a little irate that her mother was interrupting her once again. Didn't the mare know that the night only lasted so long, that she only had a dozen precious hours to observe these changes that might never happen again? She knew that her mother was less than enthusiastic about her stargazing, but it was her destiny. Twinkleshine snorted and, not for the first time, vowed that if she ever had kids she would take their talents seriously, even if they were something stupid like ‘opera’ or ‘riding a scooter’.

“The dishes aren’t done,” her mother yelled up the stairs at her, “there’s still a pile of your notes on the dining room table despite the fact I told you to deal with them last night, and the trash still needs to be taken out!”

Twinkleshine almost shook with anger, a shudder working its way through her body.

“Mom, I’m twenty-three!”

“And if you aren’t going to help keep this home then you can leave. Your father and I are working full-time and you just spend your days in bed and your nights in that stupid observatory. Is it so unreasonable of me to ask that certain tasks are done by the time I return from work?”

Twinkleshine struggled to avoid slamming the door to the observatory on her way out, taking deep, controlled breaths. If her mother was threatening her with being kicked out then she ought at least to give her proposition some careful consideration - though, of course, her mother’s condescending attitude to her work was not doing the old mare any favours.

Walking down the spiral staircase from the observatory with slow, deliberate movements that matched the pace of her breathing, Twinkleshine thought back to her observations of the night. She considered, for a moment, the subtle displacement of Orion (just an arcminute out of relative position); she had formulated many models of the stars before tonight, her early ideas of points of light on a sheet slowly evolving into a far more complex understanding of their nature. She’d only recently begun to consider stars as distant suns and moons orbiting other worlds like her own at distances so huge she could barely conceive of them. Experiment after experiment proved her right and even Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s personal student, had written a paper on the analysis of the orbits by spectroscopy.

But her theory had no predictive power for this change. She’d postulated that the Princesses were able to alter the brightness of the stars by blocking off some of their light by magic, or that they changed some property of the air itself. She’d hypothesised that Princess Luna merely raised the moon and that the stars were beyond her control - she’d once even suggested that the motions of the sun and moon could be entirely independent of the Princess’ magic, although Nightmare Moon’s brief return and the delaying of the sunrise until her defeat had proved her wrong on that one.

Her main problem, of course, was that aside from the Summer Sun celebration nopony ever got to watch the Princesses during sundown and sunrise. She would have loved the opportunity to analyse their magic during the event, but the strict guards watching over each Summer Sun celebration - and she had attended them all, ever since she got her cutie mark - made it clear that any magic usage during the ceremony would result in an arrest. The Princesses never responded to her almost endless requests for an audience to discuss astronomy and cosmology with them, despite her knowing that they took just as much of an interest in stargazing as she did; rarely was there a night this last month that one of the Princesses had not been seen standing on a castle balcony, watching out into the sky through a telescope.

It had taken a lot of experimentation to find a spell that allowed her to see through the pink shield around Canterlot. Shining Armor - another pony in the castle who seemingly did not have time to respond to mail marked “urgent” - had eventually responded when Twinkleshine used her connection to his fiancée to-

“Oh, buck,” Twinkleshine swore, running down the staircase. She barrelled past her mother who was standing at the bottom of the staircase, her expression startled. “Wedding preparations!” she yelled behind her as she ran, “They’re tonight!”

“TWINKLESHINE!”

---

Chrysalis was sitting in Canterlot’s premier ice cream parlour, prodding the base of her now-empty milkshake glass with her straw, frowning.

“And you’re sure you told her that we were meeting this evening?” she asked the two unicorns opposite her, who each nodded fervently.

“Yes, Cadence,” Lyra replied, “we spoke with her last night again to confirm she had it written in her diary.”

“Though to be fair to her,” Minuette added, “she can’t work until after sundown. She often forgets appointments she’s made in the excitement of a new constellation, or whatever.” Chrysalis let out a groan of exasperation and let her head fall to the table, wrapping her forelegs in front of her to act as a pillow, her horn resting in the gap between her hooves. She found it surprisingly difficult to accept that this behaviour was normal for Cadence in public - sure, she would often express her own frustration like this, but only ever in the privacy of her own chambers.

Of course, she was in the company of ponies who were supposed to be fairly close to Cadence, mares the princess had once foalsat for. She’d always heard that pony royalty were significantly more relaxed around their closer friends than she had ever been allowed to be, but she found herself genuinely surprised by how true those stories turned out to be.

“It’s okay, Cadence,” Lyra said; Chrysalis could hear the barely-stifled giggle in her voice. “She’ll be here soon. She’s never been more than an hour late for anything really important.”

Chrysalis tilted her head upwards, leaning her chin on her hooves.

“How is her work going, anyway?” she asked. Chrysalis knew that Twinkleshine was an astronomer, but if she was honest she didn't really care about the work. She was hoping if she got this conversation over with now, Twinkleshine wouldn't get a chance to start gushing on about stars and constellations and red-shift. The mare’s unparalleled enthusiasm for something so mind-numbingly dull - staring at the sky and making measurements of tiny, tiny angles for hours on end - was almost too much to bear.

“Apparently Twilight Sparkle herself published a paper a few weeks back that gave her latest idea a really strong backing,” Minuette said, biting a lip. Chrysalis made sure to look interested, although that simple courtesy was clearly too much for Lyra who rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know much about it, to be honest. She gave me a copy of Twilight’s paper to read but I couldn't follow it. Something to do with stars going in little tiny circles in the sky.”

Chrysalis blinked twice and tilted her head to one side. Looking as if she were thinking about the strange claim her friend had made, she sat and thought briefly about Twilight Sparkle. The mare was coming up in conversation far more often lately, and in entirely unrelated circumstances. Her nightmare had given her a certain loathing for Twilight, worried but also intrigued. There was something about her that worried Chrysalis, that made her seem like a threat. Which was, of course, nonsense - Chrysalis knew her plan was practically faultless.

She snapped her head involuntarily to one side, sharply, as the sound of the bell above the door chiming signalled someone had arrived. Twinkleshine stood in the doorframe, panting, her hair disorderly and her eyes wide.

“So… sorry… Cadence…” she managed between deep, wheezing breaths. Chrysalis smiled and waved a hoof in a gesture of dismissal.

“Don’t be,” she said, cheerily, shrugging slightly and sitting up properly. “You’re not that late, anyway.” Lyra snorted at that - Chrysalis sent her a disapproving glare, though she replied with a shrug of innocence.

Twinkleshine pulled up a chair to the table and sat down, using her magic to pour herself a glass of water from the jug. She gulped it down greedily, before levitating a small plastic tube from her saddlebag and taking a few deep breaths through it. Chrysalis watched as Minuette gave her a small smile and Twinkleshine responded in kind, sheepishly, as her breathing slowed and calmed.

“Shall we get to business, then?” Chrysalis asked with a smile, looking around the table: Twinkleshine was glancing over the small menu, but looked up with the look of a student waiting on a teacher to continue; Minuette was smiling widely, her eyes shining with anticipation; and Lyra was, unexpectedly, staring off into space, her hooves tapping out a quiet, exotic rhythm on the floor and table.

“Do we have to talk about the dresses?” Lyra said absently. Minuette glared at her and Chrysalis repressed a mad urge to grin, instead settling for the apologetic grimace she’d decided would be appropriate for broaching this subject.

“Actually, there’s a little problem with the dresses,” she admitted. Lyra smirked as Minuette’s eyes went wide with worry. Twinkleshine frowned, looking at Chrysalis with a studious glare that almost unsettled her.

“Did you not like the royal dressmaker’s designs?” she asked. Chrysalis blinked as her eyebrows shot upward in surprise. Twinkleshine chuckled. “Cadence, I've known you since I was five; do you really think I wouldn't know that the last thing you wanted was a fancy, Canterlot wedding? When you showed me the designs and plans I was shocked you hadn't realised what you were getting.” Chrysalis laughed a little, sheepishly, trying not to panic over how well these ponies knew Cadence. She’d thought meeting with her bridesmaids would be a chance to relax a little after a stressful day.

“Yeah. I guess I got a little caught up in the excitement.”

“It’s okay, Cadence,” Minuette chimed in. “We understand. It’s your wedding, after all, and we know you've been waiting for Shining to ask you for years.”

“And weddings are just so exciting,” Lyra added sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Chrysalis had been confused for the longest time that Cadence had chosen Lyra as a bridesmaid; the mare seemed entirely uninterested in the wedding and deeply sceptical about the enthusiasm the others showed. But now the wedding was approaching, Chrysalis could taste a slight hint of emotion beneath Lyra’s mask of boredom, an excitement and happiness perhaps even greater than Minuette’s. She wondered why Lyra hid it, before dismissing the thought - Lyra clearly had a reputation to uphold.

She decided to smile affectionately at Lyra’s comment, hoping that Cadence had expected this sort of behaviour from her bridesmaids. She didn't think it unlikely.

“Well, I've spoken to Celestia,” Chrysalis said, “and she’s said that she can get in a group of wedding planners she trusts. She thinks they’ll manage to pull off a very ‘non-Canterlot’ wedding.” She watched as the three mares reacted to her news: Minuette was nodding thoughtfully, an almost relieved smile tugging at her lips; Twinkleshine’s eyes were wide, as Chrysalis had noticed they always were after she mentioned Celestia, but there was a hint of salty frustration beneath the wonder she could taste; and Lyra… shrugged it off, which could by now hardly be considered a surprise.

“Do you know who she’s getting?” Minuette asked. Chrysalis shook her head, noting for the first time the slight glimmer of mischief in Minuette’s eyes - and the warm, earthy smugness in her emotions.

“I’m afraid not,” she replied sadly, “but I do hope she gets a response soon. I’d hate to keep you three waiting for measurements.” Predictably, all three mares responded with various levels of reassurance, from Minuette’s enthusiastic insistence that it was no inconvenience at all to Lyra’s soft snort of amusement. Chrysalis raised a hoof to silence them, as a stallion brought over a vanilla and caramel milkshake for Twinkleshine. “I do have a few other things to discuss, however,” she added, adopting a tone of grave seriousness as the waiter was walking away, “and I think they might be of great interest to the three of you.”

She let her statement hang in the air for a moment; she had succeeded in capturing even Lyra’s attention, which was an achievement in its own right, and with one corner of her mouth twitching upwards she held them in silence for a few seconds. Just for a moment, in her mind’s eye, she was on stage again and the mares before her were an audience whose every thought was fixed upon her. She blinked to banish the image - she could not afford the distraction now.

“I wanted to talk about invitations,” she said, her smirk widening into a grin as a collective sigh of relief spread around the table. Levitating some folded sheets of paper from her saddlebag, she couldn't help but smile at Lyra’s attempt to appear disinterested, looking off into the distance but sneaking glances at the floating invitations when she thought she wasn't being watched.

Chrysalis stopped for a moment. Something about her smile felt off and she couldn't quite place it. She was certain that Cadence would smile exactly how she had done in this situation, yet she couldn't shake this feeling that there was something different. Somehow, this was more than just a smile.

“Cadence?”

Twinkleshine's quiet, worried voice snapped her back to reality. She shook her head a little, and realised the invitation templates were still hovering in mid-air by her side, held up by her magic, Lyra no longer even trying to disguise her attempts to read them. She smiled apologetically and floated a stack over to each of her bridesmaids.

“Sorry, I zoned out there,” she said, altering her disguise slightly so that it appeared she was blushing as she bit her lip nervously; it was easier to control such reactions by magic and Chrysalis had decided a long time ago that where she could achieve a wanted effect by magic she would rely on that instead of more natural processes.

Lyra was tearing her way through the stack of papers before her, all pretense of disinterest gone - Minuette was watching her out of the corner of her eye, a slight smirk on her face. Twinkleshine was watching Chrysalis, her head tilted to one side in thought.

“I was hoping you three would have a chance to take a look over these and help me decide which would be best, or whether making any changes to any of them would be good,” she asked, Lyra pausing from her near-obsessive reading just long enough to catch her eye and nodding. “If you have any first thoughts now, we can talk here, but I’d rather meet with you three again later in the week.”

“I think that would be for the best,” Twinkleshine said, looking at her two friends for agreement. With nods from everyone, Twinkleshine rose. “I’m afraid I should probably be off, if that’s all. There are some significant observations I can only make tonight…” She trailed off, fidgeting slightly as she stood by the table. Chrysalis gave her a quick nod and Twinkleshine all but ran from the parlour.

“I should be going myself,” Chrysalis said. “Is midday on Tuesday good for you two?” With nods of agreement secured from Lyra and Minuette, Chrysalis rose and bade her bridesmaids farewell.

The night had grown cold during her time indoors, and Chrysalis shivered as she stepped out into the streets of Canterlot. Away from the others, she allowed herself to frown - nopony would dare stop a Princess in public and ask them what was troubling them, after all. Her smile at Lyra earlier that night kept replaying over and over in her head and Chrysalis couldn't quite work out what was wrong with it. She tried, as she walked, recreating the expression and found that not only was it simple enough to do so, but that it was precisely the smile she expected to have to give in that situation.

Still, something seemed off about all of her recreations. They felt hollow compared to the smile from earlier, as if something vital were missing. She had half a mind to go back and speak with Lyra again to see if it was merely her own imagination that was lacking, but the bitter cold and chilling breeze made her think better of it; she was almost home now, anyway.

That night, long after Shining Armor had begun to snore softly by her side, Chrysalis lay awake, confusion plaguing her mind. She had tried approaching the problem from every angle she could think of, creating even more problems when she tried to work out why she was even thinking about this in the first place. She rolled onto her side, glancing at the bedside clock. It was almost midnight: a whole hour of constant thought had got her nowhere. Clenching her teeth with silent frustration, Chrysalis closed her eyes; tired, frustrated and confused, her thoughts slowly quietened as she succumbed to exhaustion.

Comments

[Fernin]

Interesting so far. I'm curious to see what you plan to do with it.