Death of a Queen, V2.

by Arkane12

12: Bruised and Broken

With a yawn, Twilight opened her door. Last night’s episode left her with a headache. One that caused her to sleep through most of the morning hours, meaning the sunlight spearing through the windows nearly blinded her. Thorax sat on a bench in the hallway. His head raised at the sound of Twilight’s steps.

“Hey, Thorax.” Twilight mumbled.

“Morning, Twilight.”

“What are you doing sitting up here?”

“Looking for you.”

“Oh.” Twilight looked up and down the hallway for an excuse. She didn’t find one. “Any chance you can walk and talk? I didn’t eat dinner last night and I’m really regretting it right now.” Her stomach grumbled on cue.

“Y-Yeah. I guess I can.”

The changeling king rose slowly. His body moved like a machine shaking off the rust after a long time of disuse. Twilight had to keep her pace slow for him to keep up.

“Everything alright, Thorax?”

“Yes. No. Not really.”

“Did something happen?”

“I went to speak with Chrysalis last night.”

Twilight nodded, remembering her request the previous evening. “And how did that go?”

“Not great.”

“She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

He shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Did you manage to convince her to help us?”

“Uhh . . . I’m still working on that.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “So . . . what did she do? ”

Thorax stayed silent for a long time after that, long enough for the duo to reach the lower levels of the castle. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, he noticed another pony nearby and shut back down. Twilight didn’t press him for any more information until they reached the privacy of the Royal Dining Hall. She ordered a bowl of oatmeal and sent the server away.

“Alright. It’s just the two of us. Tell me what’s going on, Thorax.”

The king crawled into the seat beside Twilight. He sat with his shoulders slumped and wings flat against his back. The perfect picture of weariness.

“She told me what you said about her in the Gardens.”

“Oh.” Twilight felt the slightest pang of guilt in her stomach. “I shouldn’t have said all of that. I know you care about her. I’m sorry, Thorax.”

The changeling hung his head. Every muscle in his body clenched. When he spoke again, he had to struggle to keep his voice down. “I don’t want an apology. Because you’re right. She’s alone. Completely alone. I don’t know what to do anymore, Twilight. I don’t know how to help her. I thought that if anyone could help, it would be you or Celestia. But I guess we saw how that turned out . . .”

“I’m sorry, Thorax. I tried. I really did.”

“I know.”

The kitchen staff returned with Twilight’s breakfast. She looked uncomfortably at the brokenhearted changeling, unsure if she should take his order as well. Twilight dismissed her. The poor mare looked almost relieved as she returned to the kitchen.

Twilight turned the contents of the bowl with her spoon, disconcerted by the bitter taste in her mouth.

“Am I wrong to want to help her, Twilight?” Thorax finally asked.

“It’s not wrong to want to help. She was your queen after all,” she assured him.

“But the other changelings don’t feel that way. They’ve moved on. They’ve forgotten about her. But I can’t. I can’t do that to her. Not after everything she did for me. They see her as a useless tradition to be tossed away like the rest. And the ponies see her as a monster to be feared and chased down. But deep inside, I know who she really is. And I know that everyone else is wrong. They have to be.”

The sincerity in his voice only poisoned Twilight’s appetite further.

“Not everyone.”

Thorax raised his head just enough to stare at Twilight. “What?”

“Celestia didn’t fear her. Not like that, anyways. She didn’t chase Chrysalis away. She wanted to help. And it nearly killed her.”

Thorax sank deeper in his chair.

“See what my love for her did? If I could just let Chrysalis go, Celestia wouldn’t be hurt.”

“Don’t think like that, Thorax.” Twilight dropped her spoon into the mush as she focused on unspooling this thread of thought to its end. “You didn’t make Celestia go there. You didn’t make her show sympathy for Chrysalis. I think . . . I think Celestia thought the same as you do. She saw something in Chrysalis that made her hesitate.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. And I want to trust Celestia, but doing so has cost me at every turn, Thorax. I’m beginning to wonder if maybe we’re wrong about Chrysalis.”

Thorax chewed his tongue in thought.

“She wasn’t always the crazy changeling queen you saw her as, you know?”

“Tell me about her. Tell me about the version of her you know.”

Thorax took a deep breath as he summoned his earliest memories.

“Did you know that changelings are linked to the hivemind before they hatch? It allows us to learn about the world and our place in it before we’re even born. We can’t communicate, it’s more that we feel the emotions of the ones around us. It’s why so many changelings are born cruel. It prepares us for life.”

“That doesn’t excuse her behavior.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Thorax shifted his gaze. “But I’m not talking about her. I shouldn’t be alive, Twilight.”

Twilight poked at the cold slop in her bowl, trying her best to look anywhere except at Thorax.

The king continued. “Something was wrong with me. My mind never formed right. I could hear the anger and bitterness of those around me, but I couldn’t understand it. The Broodmothers sensed my hesitation. They . . . they recommended that they shouldn’t waste any more resources on me. They had already given me enough energy to hatch, but I guess they figured I would just starve anyway.”

“That’s awful.”

“Maybe. But it was the only choice we had. Our hive didn’t have the magical energy to spare on drones that might just end up a liability. And I don’t know why, but Chrysalis didn’t listen to them. She used to come down to the nursery personally to give me her energy.”

“She saved you.”

“It took me years to realize it. Even after I hatched, I couldn’t feed.”

“There was something wrong with your magic?”

“I told you, there was something wrong with my head. I was born with a conscience. I couldn’t steal the love of some innocent creature. I knew it was wrong. Chrysalis wasn’t happy about it, but she continued taking care of me. For years, I was nothing more than a drain on the hive’s resources, but she never forced me out.”

Twilight pushed her breakfast away. “Maybe she saw something in you?”

“Maybe. As I grew older, I realized that it took more and more to sustain me. Eventually, the guilt of being a parasite outweighed my hatred for feeding. I took my proper place as an infiltrator. Chrysalis even trained me herself.” He hung his head. “I watched her decline over the years. By the time I realized that she was starting to lose her grip completely, I was too late.”

“The invasion of Canterlot,” Twilight realized.

“Yes. You know the rest of the story. I was there during the invasion. When I saw you and your friends’ display of true friendship, it . . . reminded me. It made me realize just how far Chrysalis had fallen. But I know that somewhere, deep down, she’s not the monster everyone thinks she is.”

Twilight squeezed her eyes shut. Her voice took on a hard edge. “What am I supposed to do, Thorax? I want to help her, but she won’t let me. I don’t have time to waste on trying to change her mind.”

“I’m just asking for one last chance, Twilight. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I know you’re the only one who can get through to her. Just like you did with Starlight, and me, and so many others.”

Twilight trembled, but eventually cracked. “One last chance, Thorax. But after that . . .”

“You’ll hand her over to Luna?”

“If that becomes necessary.”

Thorax flinched. “If that’s the case . . . then I won’t stand in your way.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Me too.”

---

“Chrysalis?” Twilight called through the door as she knocked. When there was no answer, she turned to the guard. Without a word, the soldier stepped forward, unlocked the door, and stepped aside.

Twilight stepped forward into the dark. The only light in the room came from the smoldering embers burning in the fireplace. The changeling had moved her furniture off to the corners of the room, leaving only a rug on the floor to lie on. She didn’t bother looking up at Twilight as the princess walked in.

“We need to talk,” Twilight said.

Chrysalis didn’t move.

Twilight considered several different approaches. In the end though, she settled for dragging a chair over and sitting down beside her. The princess said nothing, either. Instead, she simply gazed into the flames, same as Chrysalis.

“What are you playing at, Twilight?” Chrysalis eventually asked.

“I told you already, I’m done playing.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take you at your word.”

“Thorax convinced me to give you one more chance. Don’t waste it.”

Chrysalis groaned and repositioned herself. “Of course that idiot had something to do with this.”

Twilight leaned forward. “That idiot is the only reason you’re not shackled to a wall in a dark cellar. I’d be a bit more thankful to him if I were you.”

“You’re not me.”

Defeated, Twilight threw up her hooves in surrender. “Chrysalis, do you think I like doing this?”

“I’d hope so. I don’t know why you keep wasting my time otherwise.”

Twilight slumped over in her chair, keeping her head propped up in her hoof. “It’s because I’m trying to figure you out.”

“Don’t bother.”

“I will bother. I’ve been bothering.” Twilight’s words grew louder. “All this time, I kept Luna from hurting you because I thought there was a chance you could change. I can help you. I want to help you. Don’t you want your life back? Don’t you want to enjoy living again? Just let me help you.”

Chrysalis slithered to her hooves. “Do you know what I hate the most about you ponies, Twilight?”

“What is that?”

“Your smug sense of superiority. The way you just assume you’re right.” She jammed a hoof into Twilight’s chest, sliding the chair back a few inches. “Isn’t it enough that you defeated me? Now you have to sit here and offer me an illusion masquerading as hope. It makes me sick. I might be cruel, but at least I have the decency to be honest about the suffering I inflict.”

Twilight blinked several times. “What are you talking about?”

Chrysalis leaned in close, splashing Twilight with her spittle as she screamed.

“You want to help me? That’s a load of crap. You don’t want a friend, you don’t want an ally. You want a trophy. Just like you did with my children. I won’t be like that, Twilight. I won’t live my life as your pet!”

With a roar of anger, Chrysalis reared back and kicked Twilight away, cracking her chair in two in the process. Twilight spun head over hooves, shielding the sharp pain in her chest where the strike had landed.

The doors tore open. The guards poured into the room, but Twilight stopped them with a wave of her hoof. She massaged the bruised skin on her chest as she stared down the furious changeling.

“Whatever happens, don’t interfere,” Twilight said to her guards. Then she turned to Chrysalis. “Don’t do this.”

“Stop telling me what to do, Twilight!”

The changeling lowered her head and leveled her broken horn. For the briefest of moments, she trembled, unwilling or unable to take that first step. But as she squeezed her eyes shut, she lunged. The guards watched in horror, frozen in place by their princess’ orders. But Twilight didn’t budge an inch. She didn’t even bother to brace herself. Instead, she simply turned her head as the echo of cracking bone rang through the room.

Chrysalis collapsed as her injured leg snapped. She landed at Twilight’s hooves, her fury all but forgotten in a moment of agony.

“I warned you,” Twilight said wistfully.

Chrysalis clenched her teeth shut, refusing to cry out. A cocktail of anger, sorrow, and helplessness flooded through her veins. She could taste blood as she tightened her jaw.

“What are all of you staring at?” At the sound of their princess’ voice, the guards snapped back to attention. “Go fetch Doctor Heart. He’s in Celestia’s room.”

“I don’t want a doctor,” Chrysalis growled through her teeth.

Twilight stepped around the collapsed changeling. “It’s a compound fracture. You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

“Good! I hope it ruins your floors. If you really cared about me in the slightest, you’d turn around and walk away. Leave me here to die in peace.”

The princess knelt down beside her, examining the wound with an urgent gaze. As she watched the pool grow, her heart hammered, her throat went dry. She shook her head furiously as she spoke.

“You’re wrong. You know that, don’t you?”

“Why won’t you just leave me alone, you stupid thing?”

“Because you need help.” Twilight tore a strip of fabric from the broken chair and held it tight over the bleed. Her hooves trembled as the red soaked into her fur, but she refused to let go. Chrysalis writhed beneath the pressure.

“Why?”

“Because you’re hurt.”

“Why do you care? After everything I’ve done to you, Twilight, why do you care what happens to me?” Tears welled up in the corners of the changeling’s eyes. “You and your damned Celestia?”

“I don’t know why Celestia spared you.” While her magic applied pressure to the wound, Twilight tore another strip of cloth and added it to the makeshift bandage. “But I know she did it for a reason. She saw something in you. Thorax has seen it. I’ve seen it, too. Somewhere, deep down inside of you, there’s empathy. Compassion. The potential to turn over a new leaf and make a new life. I know it. And I know you can be happy again, if you would just work with me. Don’t you want your life back? Not as a slave or a pet, but as the proud changeling you used to be?”

Circling back around to Chrysalis’ front, Twilight lowered her head even with the changeling. Though Chrysalis refused to meet her gaze, Twilight watched with tired eyes, waiting patiently for an answer.

Whatever the changeling wanted to say was lost when Doctor Heart came charging in. His medical bag flew through the air behind him, wrapped in the same blue magical energy as his horn.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“She kicked me,” Twilight answered, revealing the bruise on her chest. “The strain was too much for her leg. It broke.”

The doctor knelt down beside Twilight and took the bloody rag from her grip.

“Alright. Let me look. It’s not pretty. Chrysalis? Can you hear me?”

No answer.

“She’s lucid. She’s just petulant,” Twilight explained.

“Screw you,” Chrysalis moaned.

“Alright.” Doctor Heart turned to the guards still standing slack-jawed in the doorway. “You get a stack of towels. You go get the rest of my crew from Celestia’s room. The rest of you, help me get her onto the bed.”

“What about me, Doctor?” Twilight asked. “I want to help.”

“Good. While we lift her, use your magic to keep her leg steady. We don’t want it injured any further.”

Twilight wrapped the twisted limb in her magic, keeping it level as the rest of the group moved her to the bed. Towels were laid out to cover the sheets. Nurses arrived and took the place of the guards.

“Nurse, give her something for the pain,” Doctor Heart barked. “The rest of you get ready. We’re going to have to handle this here and now. Get this place sanitized and get the tools ready.”

As the medical team whipped into a frenzy, Twilight slunk into the background. She sat in the unbroken chair and watched the scene play out before her.

Comments

[Doctor_Den]

It turns out that if Chrysalis had not been so diligent in saving Thorax from starvation as a child, she would not have lost her hive? This is what I call irony.
it’s almost the same as reforging, sharpening and removing rust from a dull knife that should have been thrown away so that in the end this knife would be stuck in your back.

[Arkane12]

11787266
That’s a very interesting perspective.