Relinquish the Sun

by Error732

Chapter XIV

Celestia and Cocoon materialized in the princess's chambers in a flash of light. Inkstain, who had been delivering yet another bag of correspondence to the royal chambers, cried out in surprise as the pair popped into existence not two feet in front of her. The princess and queen, who had teleported to this chamber in the hopes of going undetected, cried out in turn. It was not until a moment later that Celestia recognized her confidant and managed to form words.

"Inkstain! Thank goodness it's only you."

Her assistant glanced back and forth between Celestia and Cocoon. "Princess, what—"

"It's okay. I need you to stay here for a while. Just until we return."

Inkstain looked quizzically at her sovereign. Her eyes wandered to the egg, and comprehension solidified in her expression. "That's . . ."

". . . nothing," finished Cocoon. "You never saw it. Just wait here."

Celestia nodded agreement and was relieved to see that Inkstain accepted the changeling's words without panic. Inkstain even held her tongue when Cocoon resumed her guise of a royal guard.

"Don't worry," reassured Celestia. "Everything's going to get better."

Before leaving, the two egg-nappers wrapped the egg in a a towel. Cocoon held it, as it would draw too much attention for the princess to carry anything when her escort could do so for her. They rummaged through one of Celestia's many closets for a saddlebag to fit Cocoon's present form, placed the egg inside, and headed out.

Mercifully, the castle was mostly dormant at this time of night. What ponies they ran into were too busy sweeping the halls or scrubbing the windows to do more than bow to their princess's presence; they certainly did not interrupt themselves or their monarch to ask what her guard was carrying. Even so, Celestia and Cocoon avoided the most trafficked corridors when possible, arriving at last at the entrance to the secluded caves below.

After their recent adventure, the tunnels beneath Canterlot seemed absolutely luxurious. Little wonder, thought Celestia, that Cocoon was so unintimidated by her confines. Her birthplace made the catacombs seem inviting; they had all the niceties of lighting, room to lift one's head, and a general absence of dragons.

Until now, that was. Celestia and Cocoon brought the egg to the very same cell where Cocoon had rotted for so long. Cocoon removed her saddlebag and placed it gingerly on the floor inside the cell. She opened the bag, revealing the egg nestled within its towel. Cocoon backed away, and Celestia began casting a spell.

A faint radiance encompassed the room in a soft red hue. The cold stone walls warmed, and the air surrounding the egg heated to a cozy temperature.

"I'm no mother dragon," said Celestia, "but I'm guessing that's about right. I don't know how much body heat dragons give off, and I don't think they'd tell me if I asked."

Cocoon shrugged. "It's close enough. Dragons are pretty tough; I bet their young are, too. If the incubation is off by a few degrees, is it really going to make a difference?"

Celestia considered. "I don't know. Even if the egg doesn't die, it might suffer some abnormality."

"What, like it'll be hatched without wings? You worry too much. Besides, we have other things to do, remember?"

Celestia nodded, and they left the dragon heir to its own devices.

They returned to Celestia's chambers and retrieved Inkstain, whom Celestia sent off to retrieve the council members. She was careful to instruct her to tell them nothing but to meet in the throne room, where their princess would await.

As Inkstain galloped off, Cocoon made to leave, as well. "I will meet you there. I have fellows of my own to summon."

"I thought you didn't know the locations of your fellows?" said Celestia, recalling their first meeting.

"Not of all of them. But each of the ones I know knows a few more, and so on. Don't worry; they wouldn't miss this for the world."

Still masquerading as a guard, Cocoon, too, galloped off. Celestia had nothing left to do but go to her throne room and prepare.

The room was empty at this time of night, save for a pair of night shift guards. They greeted her with deep bows, and she acknowledged them and ascended the throne. The climb felt longer than normal, her hooves heavier on each stair. She arrived atop the lonely summit. Her own status repulsed her. She did not deserve it.

The triumph of retrieving the egg had overwhelmed her, but her heart was not free to celebrate. In a few minutes, she would have to finalize a plan that had brewed in her brain and corroded her heart. When she had first thought of it, it seemed the right thing to do.

The council members filed in in spurts, bearing a variety of attitudes to their early morning awakening. None looked well-rested, but while Boutonniere's grogginess indicated a truncated night, Jet Stream's exhaustion stretched deep, adding years to his face. Rye Smile led her entourage with impressive discipline, bowing to the princess and taking a place by the throne as if service preceded any petty bodily demands for sleep.

Jet Stream shook the bleariness from his eyes and spoke. "Princess Celestia! You're back from the dragons! Did they make any further demands? Did they accept Equestria's surrender?"

Rye Smile did not wait for an answer. "Word has come in that injured dragons have been spotted leaving the northern caves in different directions. It appears they've been dispersing."

"What?" Jet Stream exclaimed, incredulous and embarrassed that he had missed news from the front. He stammered to his liege, "What happened?"

At that moment, Cocoon, still disguised as a guard, entered the room, trailed by a hodgepodge of ponies of every size, shape, and color. The council members' attention shifted to the apparent parade of unrecognized, uninvited guests. A unicorn filly, her mane filthy with the dust of Canterlot streets. A pair of elderly, lame-legged earth ponies assisted in by a young, well-dressed stallion. A few more guards, some uniformed servants, and an array of ponies whose occupations and origins were not obvious. The council members, unanimously puzzled, took a cue from Celestia's unsurprised expression that these strangers were welcome, though that did not stop them from whispering amongst themselves.

When this crowd of unknowns had at last assembled, Inkstain walked in, trotted over to Celestia's side, and sat. Everyone was accounted for.

"Thank you for coming, everypony," she said, settling the whispers with her authoritative voice. "I know it is an unusual hour, but I am sure none of you would want to wait for these announcements."

The crowd tensed. The council members braced themselves for news of another attack.

"The dragon threat is over. I will continue to raise and lower the Sun and Moon for the good of all Equestrians."

Cheers erupted from the gallimaufry of guests. In equal part, council members gasped and murmured incredulity.

"The heir which once united the dragon clans is lost to them, and their alliance has crumbled." More cheers interrupted her. Celestia felt her insides fold over themselves at the sound of changeling's supporting her.

"But this development is not solely my doing. Equestria owes its renewed security to the efforts of a yet unrecognized friend." The council members buzzed with speculation. Many had connected the dots between Celestia's words and their unexplained guests, but none could fathom what connection there could be between an apparent random sampling of ponies and the end of the dragon war.

Celestia beckoned for one of the guards to move to the front of the room. "Mares and gentlecolts, I present to you Queen Cocoon of the changelings."

The council let out a collective gasp as Cocoon returned to her native form. A column of light surrounded her as her silhouette grew to Celestia's height and her insectoid features reformed.

Boutonniere cried out, "A changeling!" as if Celestia had not just announced Cocoon's species. Council members stepped back warily, terrified by Cocoon's chitinous skin and outstretched diaphanous wings. Even Rye Smile seemed unsettled by her presence.

Somepony shouted for the guards, but Celestia belayed the order. "Please, calm yourselves. I asked Queen Cocoon here, as well as our other guests."

All equine eyes turned to the few dozen "ponies" gathered next to the council. If Celestia's words had not given them away, their actions had. All were bowing their heads to Cocoon, even as the council members retreated to a safe distance. Cocoon walked to the head of the crowd, and they, too, returned to their native forms. An array of colors flashed as the changelings revealed themselves.

The changelings resembled their queen, though scaled down to the size of most ponies. They lacked the holes which riddled Cocoon's body, and none of them had their queen's mane. Instead, they all had black, chitinous scalps, interrupted only by their curved horns and long, skinny ears. Their faces varied in proportion, but looked strikingly uniform to the ponies present. Every changeling had blue eyes, lacking any sign of pupils, and a pair of fangs protruding from their closed mouths.

Celestia had had some time to acclimate to Cocoon's appearance, but it was hard to deny her first impression of the changelings now: they looked like monsters.

Panic was taking root in the ponies, now, some of them even making threats toward their guests. The other changelings stood their ground, bared their teeth, and hissed back at their harassers. The less courageous ponies had backed all the way to the far side of the room, making strides toward the door. Shouts filled the sonorous hall. Cocoon stood silently by her kin, waiting for Celestia's next words.

Celestia reared up and shouted, "Silence!" She punctuated her call with a spell that momentarily blinded both crowds with a flash of light. "I remind you all that I have invited the changelings here so that we may all calmly discuss their presence in Equestria. Queen Cocoon has made a formal diplomatic request for changeling citizenship under the Equestrian crown." She raised her voice as objections once again grew in volume. "They have been living in Equestria in secret for some time, and they wish the freedom to do so openly."

Boutonniere was uncowed by Celestia's display. "Princess, the law rightly states that changelings are to be exterminated on sight. They pose too great a threat to those around them." Somepony echoed his sentiments with a shout of, "Kill the bugs!" The cry echoed from pony to pony.

Celestia intervened again. "No! There will be no executions. All of us, all of you, owe a great debt to Cocoon. She led our visit to the dragon lair, risked life and limb to end the threat to our kingdom, and saved my life." She emphasized this last point in the hopes of shocking the council, but the faces below her remained skeptical at best.

"Princess," said Rye Smile with her typical resolution, "all of that is consistent with the dangerous nature of changelings. They are parasites on society; they would go to any lengths to ensure Equestria's safety so that they can continue to feed on our love."

Cocoon remained quiet, her eyes on Celestia. Her countenance implied a sharp disdain for the council members, as if they were being presumptuous to assume that their love was even worth her time.

"Even if you believe that, Cocoon is still a hero to Equestria, whatever her reasons. Equestria owes better than execution to its heroes and their kin."

For all her fervency, the attention of her subjects was pulled to the fangs and blue eyes of their guests. Only Inkstain focused on Celestia herself, and her expression mirrored Celestia's growing frustration. Jet Stream, at least, was not crying for blood; he held the same subdued look as he had when Celestia had seen him before leaving the castle. He stared at the changelings, but they provoked no outward display of emotion from him.

"Your Highness, the ponies of Equestria will never accept this. We will never accept this," he said, gesturing toward the rest of the council. "The changelings cannot remain in Equestria."

For a moment, Celestia thought she felt the ground tremble beneath her, but she realized it was only her legs. She inhaled deeply, lowered her eyes, and replied.

"I know."

Cocoon's eyes widened, and her kin ignored the now quieting ponies long enough to glare up at Celestia. Before anypony had a chance to think they'd misheard the princess, she cast a spell in the direction of the changeling throng. A transparent purple dome materialized around the gathered shape-shifters, and, as many of them immediately discovered, prevented all travel in or out of its boundary.

Cocoon kicked her hooves against the barrier, then screamed at Celestia in disbelief. "Princess, what are you doing?!" Her voice was alien to Celestia, in a panicked register that she had never heard from the normally aloof queen.

"I am sorry, Queen Cocoon," said Celestia. She tried to make her words feel genuine, but they tasted like bitter ash as they left her mouth. She stepped down from her royal pedestal and met Cocoon at the edge of the barrier. "But I cannot ignore the will of my advisors or my subjects. But I promise you safe exile; Equestria must banish the changelings but not threaten you."

Cocoon brought her face as close to Celestia's as the barrier would allow. "You hide behind the will of your advisors, but you wear the crown. You asked for my help, you promised us citizenship, and you betrayed us."

Celestia had to fight the urge to turn away. She owed Cocoon many things she would never repay; at least she could give her an explanation. "My heart implores me to release you and to unilaterally declare your citizenship. But my heart also led Equestria into an unwinnable war, laid down the lives of my subjects so that it could cling to a failing hope. I rule Equestria, and you're right; I could order whatever fate for you my heart wished. For that very reason, I must must rule with my mind instead. Perhaps, one day . . ."

"No!" came a shout from behind Celestia. Inkstain approached her sovereign, absent of any sign of deference. "You followed your heart out of Equestria's darkest hour. Whether your thoughts were of your subjects or your sister, you made the right choice. If you hadn't fought back, the dragons would own Equestria. The Sun wouldn't rise."

"Inkstain, this is not your place—"

"All the ponies that Zhuyin killed would have been proud to know that you fought on—and won! You followed your heart, yes, but you followed it out of a no-win scenario. And now you want to pretend you made the wrong choice—"

"Inkstain, enough!" yelled Celestia.

But Inkstain was undeterred. "You told me you enjoyed my trust but needed my criticism. Well, here it is: you are punishing the innocent for your mistakes and for the prejudices of ponies."

The ferocity of her words stunned the council, who had never seen anypony dare address the princess so rudely. Celestia herself, who had always known Inkstain to be deferential and loyal to a fault, could scarcely recognize Inkstain with so much anger in her voice.

Celestia tried to inject calm into her tone. "Inkstain, I know you're upset. I am, too. But as you get older you will understand that—"

The princess's words fell short. A column of light encompassed Inkstain. Ribbons of a soft purple glow clung to her body and spread over her, leaving behind a new anatomy. Celestia knew what was happening before it finished, but she could not bring herself to believe it until Inkstain, or whatever had once been Inkstain, spoke.

"I will never be as old as you, Princess. Perhaps that's for the best." The changeling's voice was deeper than it had been as Inkstain, and at this moment more wrenching than any Celestia had ever heard.

Her mind raced backward in time, examining all her moments with Inkstain anew. Every moment that they had shared had felt real, too real to accept the truth standing in front of her. She grasped for possibilities that could explain away this betrayal; perhaps her friend and confidant had been replaced at some point, and the changeling in front of her was an impostor.

Celestia looked to Cocoon, as if the queen had any reason to comfort her. Cocoon said without pleasure or relief, "Princess Celestia, my daughter and heir, Princess Chrysalis."

The resemblance was hard to miss. Unlike her captured fellows, Chrysalis had her mother's aqua-banded midsection, green irises slitted by narrow black pupils, and an iridescent blue mane. She was smaller than her mother, and she lacked the holes that Cocoon had acquired in captivity.

Chrysalis approached the barrier's edge and regarded Celestia. "Let me in," she said. "Let me be with my kind." Celestia hesitated, but Chrysalis reminded her, "I am a changeling and an exile. Treat me as such."

Celestia concentrated, and a small, circular hole appeared in the side of the dome. Chrysalis stepped in, and Celestia resealed the hemisphere.

Celestia whispered the question that weighed upon her. "Was there ever a real Inkstain?"

Chrysalis snorted and turned her back. As she walked into the crowd of her extended family, she answered, "Was there ever a real Celestia?"

Comments

[SomeRandomMinion]

Chrysalis snorted and turned her back. As she walked into the crowd of her extended family, she answered, "Was there ever a real Celestia?"

Ouch.

[Alondro]

Let it be very clearly stated here: I hate the changelings. They are horrid, evil, parsitic bug ponies with no redeeming qualities (in the show).

HOWEVER, if at any time I had to form an alliance with them and one of them saved my life and the rest proved trustworthy in whatever plan was made, my honor would absolutely demand that I uphold any agreement I made to its fullest. To do any less would be an unwashable stain of shame upon the very core of my being.

Celestia in this story has been dishonorable and extremely weak-willed. So much so, I cannot really believe this is her in the last few chapters. If there was any time for her to behave as a proper tyrant and tell her advisors to shut the hell up or be banished to the moon, this was it!

[Grollo]

The tragedy tag really fits, I have to say.

[SGDragon]

Okay, I've got to share this because it had me laughing for a full 10 minutes.

Just as I was starting the paragraph that contained the reveal that Inkstain was a changeling, the music I was playing shuffled to Weird Al's "I was Only Kidding". It completely killed the mood of the moment and I had to put my kindle down so I can get the amusement out of my system.

[PresentPerfect]

What, like it'll be hatched without wings?

coocn pls

OH I CALLED IT :D And yet I didn't, bravo! And I've never heard the word 'gallimaufry' before, well done.