• Published 20th Jun 2015
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I Am His Queen - Arreis Of Avalon



Queen Chrysalis negotiates peace with Equestria - and herself.

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Depression: Part One

Author's Note:

Author's note is at the top this time because this chapter contains some graphic imagery! It was going to be worse, but I stopped myself from making it too bad. Posting this just before class, so gotta go fast!

Please enjoy!

One week.

My eyes shoot open as I gasp, my heart pounding in my chest as I feel the blade come down over my neck, watch my head roll and my lover weep and smile all at the same time. I still hear those whispered words, how I am an awful queen, how I should have died that day, how this was all my fault…

My fear fades gradually as I slowly turn my head to gaze out the window. My breathing slows as I watch the sun begin to rise over the horizon.

The light does not reach my room quickly. It creeps over the hills towards me. I lie in bed until it crosses into my room, resting across my covers, doing very little to warm me. I make no movement in the time it takes to come my way. There is no need to, after all.

My breathing has slowed.

I begin to feel hungry after, I would estimate, 2 hours. Dimly, I realize I’m standing, walking towards the kitchen. My wings flutter slightly as I walk, making my ears perk up at the first sound I have truly made all day, beyond my startling wake up. I go to the kitchen and peek outside.

Ponies pass by. Laughing. Smiling. There is a wide berth around my house, however. They never come close. I catch their wary glances, cautious smiles.

My horn glows softly. I breathe in the latent love in the air, that love that is so terribly abundant here. It fills me. The taste no longer appeals to me, however. It could never match his, after all. I have been spoiled by the memory of that taste.

I make myself tea and sit, feeling full but unnourished. I watch the steam rise for longer than necessary. I sip it.

It’s gone cold by the time I start drinking.


Hours later, I glance up from the empty cup as there is a knock at the door. I look at the clock on the wall. 10:30. I sigh and stand, moving to the door and letting her in. I know who’s calling. She’s the only one who visits me directly, after all, other than those friends of hers.

“Hello, Chrysalis,” she says in a cheery voice, sitting down and setting her notepad on the table. Twilight watches me, eyes bright and still so… happy. “How are you today?”

“Just fine,” I say with a small smile, the words coming unbidden to my lips.

“Good! Now, as you know, this first week was just a week for you to get settled in. Now, the fun part starts!”

She starts to ramble about what is required of me. I’ll need to go about town. Socialize. Make friends. I nod along, thinking on other things. My eyes dart toward the window as I see Maskra pass by for the upteenth time today. His eyes meet mine.

He’s never been good at hiding concern. Every other emotion, he can expertly disguise, but concern escapes his ability.

I swallow the emotion down and look back to Twilight. “- and, of course, I’ll be with you so that you can feel comfortable!” She opens her eyes as she concludes her rant, smiling. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

I nod, levitating my mug over to the sink. “Let us get this over with quickly, then.”


It goes poorly in my eyes, to say the least. At least 3 ponies faint straight away when I near them. Mothers grab their foals and drag them inside. My ears twitch as I hear the ponies muttering, and my body churns their emotions around inside.

Fear. Distrust. Hatred.

So… familiar.

Concern. So much concern is in the air.

A pony confuses Maskra as an offensive guard. “I am here to protect Queen Chrysalis, under Princess Celestia’s orders,” he says rather gruffly. The pony flushes with embarrassment. I stifle a small snicker before sighing, my small, everlasting smile returning. Maskra glances at me, and I can taste something new.


Hope.


The emotion fades into ash in my mouth as my smile slowly falls once more to my more serious mien. Maskra sighs as well, shaking his head and looking every part a royal guard once more.

I stare blankly ahead as Twilight reassures me that the ponies here in Ponyville are just startled by new things and creatures. “They might be more friendly if you smiles at them,” she suggests hesitantly.

I watch as another pony screams and runs away. I turn to her, deadpan. “And what, pray tell, should I smile about? Their screaming?”

“Er…” She giggles nervously. “Fair point.”


*~*~*~


Two weeks.

Crystals are slowly encasing my body. Maskra tries desperately to tear them away, tears in his eyes and concern drowning me in the prison that slowly forms. “FIGHT THIS,” he screams. “FIGHT THIS, FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE!”

I watch him blankly. I sigh and nod, my horn glowing. In a flash, all of the crystals shatter.

I blink from the flash. When I open my eyes, my love stands before me, his heart pierced and neck bleeding from a clean cut all ‘round. His eyes are glassy and blank. He looked at me, tears rolling down his cheeks, washing away his skin as it fades to air.

“Eacko,” I breathe, a pang of… something inside.

He stumbles towards me. I catch him and hold him close to my body. He looks at me and smiles.

I know you can be a good queen.


I startle awake.


Maskra watches me, concern growing as I chuckle at the antics of Pinkie Pie. She is very funny. She pushes a box of cupcakes toward me, free of charge. I accept them graciously, trying to ignore his surges of emotion.

They sit, uneaten, on my counter until they go stale.

I realize two days later that I’ve forgotten to eat anything. The holes in my body seem larger. I feel terribly weak when I wake. I force myself to absorb more passing love, despite it stirring my stomach. It makes me feel sick.

Twilight comes to ask me to join her for the day. I tell her that I am not feeling well. She bemoans on and on her lack of knowledge of Changelings, wishing there was something she could do to make me feel better. I tell her that what I am experiencing is nothing worse than the common cold, that I’ll be absolutely fine with a bit of rest.

After preparing some tea, some food, getting more blankets, more pillows, and telling me that she loves me very much and hopes I get better, she leaves.

What a silly mare.

Maskra checks up on me when I do not join Twilight outside. I tell him I am merely sick. It is obvious he doesn’t believe me. Thankfully, he leaves me alone; I can feel his distrust in the air, and always, always that tangy concern that peaks my senses. It never used to do that before. Had my senses dulled?

My day is uneventful. I watch the happy ponies pass. I think, what have they done with their lives? Have they done good? Are they happy with their actions? Are they happy with their families and choices and houses and feelings?

Are they happy?

I do not eat what Twilight provides. It goes in the trash, forgotten.

I stay up and watch the stars rise.


*~*~*~


1 month.

I lie in bed, tossing and turning. My emotions are turbulent. I am having a nightmare.

“Chrysie.”

I calm, opening my eyes. The changeling beside me smiles. “There you are.”

My ears twitch at his voice. I hug him tightly, crying. “Woah! Missing me already?” He laughs softly, brushing his hoof through my mane. “Did you have a bad dream, my Queen?”

I sniff. I look into his eyes, emotions bubbling up inside me in a wellspring. He watches me, loves me, he wants me to be okay. I can feel his loyalty, devotion, I can feel Eacko longing for me. His brows relax and he smiles at me. “My Queen?”

Love. Lust. Awe. Wonder.


Concern.


I pull away from Eacko.

“My Queen…”

He watches me.

Sorrow.

He smiles.

“You did your best.”


Blood rings his neck.


“EACKO!” My screams echo in my ears.


I wake to the sound of my scream. Maskra darts in, concerned.


Always concerned.

I make him leave.

Not now.


I’m sitting in front of my mirror at midday. Maskra is behind me, anger dripping out of his every pore. Anger, a loyalty that cannot be broken even after the time apart we have spent, and of course, concern. It is late in the day. “Chrysalis, I know you heard me.”

What had he said? I grasp to remember.

Ah yes.

“Indeed, I heard you.”

“None. No emotion, whatsoever. What is wrong with you, Chrysalis?”

I blink, gazing into my reflection’s eyes. They stare back, curious. “Nothing’s wrong. I am just… waiting.”

“You can’t just ‘wait’. You have to act!” He huffs, stamping his hoof against the ground. I watch him in the mirror. “You’re acting odd. Nothing you’re doing makes sense, My Queen.” I wince at the moniker along with the reflection. I don't think he notices. “You hardly show emotions when normally it’s impossible for you to hide them, particularly from me. You don’t even crack a smile anymore for longer than a brief second!” He shuts his eyes. “It’s like… like you aren’t even there anymore.”

I watch him in the mirror. “Perhaps I’ve used myself all up, then.”

He hisses softly, reminding me that he speaks to me, not as a guard, but as a changeling. “Don’t say things like that.”

“You’re acting childish,” I say softly, calmly.

“And you’re acting like a ghost.”


A ghost.


Is that what I am now?


That pang returns, unbidden, unnecessary, unwanted. That single pang of emotion. I try to smother it and fail. It grows because I acknowledged it.

Panic rises with it. Anger. That fades.


Concern.

I see Maskra in the mirror as I freeze, paralyzed. The color fades from his face and his eyes widen. He licks his lips, wings fluttering. I close my eyes.

Regret.


“My… My Queen-”

“Leave me. Now!” It comes out as a bark, a command to one whose priorities no longer included me, a command to a servant who should not, would not care for it. Sure enough, my senses sour.

Yet he, of all people, understands. He knows what this is.

“As you wish.”

The door closes.

My reflection watches me, silent. And slowly, slowly…

She breaks down, crying, shutting her eyes and ignoring the world, the feelings, and always, always staying quiet as she could.

She couldn't admit what had happened.



He knocks before he enters. The mare jumps, surprise melting away to confusion and alarm. To concern. “Masquerade? What's wrong?”

“We need to talk.”