> Heartless > by Silent Whisper > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Ad Infinitum > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “It’s over, Chrysalis,” snapped Cadance as she strode into the throne room. Heart save them, Chrysalis had gotten far too close to getting into the castle undetected, and only a last-minute scan had given them warning. It was enough, though. Barely. A hole-bored hoof waved slightly in greeting as the monstrous queen lounged across the hoofrests of the throne - her throne, dammit - but she didn’t even look at her, like Cadance wasn’t even worth the effort. Like the castle was already hers. Damn her to Tartarus. Well, she hadn’t become Princess without learning how to keep at least some of her composure, though it was rapidly waning. She slammed the door shut behind her, so hard it swung open again but she couldn’t bring herself to care. In a few minutes, it wouldn’t matter anyway. “The guards are on their way. Your little diversion couldn’t keep them tied up for long.” The changeling on the throne purred, finally fixing Cadance with her alien gaze. “I’m surprised, truly I am. I’d expected a faster response, but your husband truly hasn’t changed a bit. He’s far too trusting of supposed ‘new recruits’.” “You,” Cadance all but growled as she stalked up to the throne, wings trembling with anything but fear. “Don’t have the right to speak of my husband. Not after that threat to Flurry Heart.” Queen Chrysalis laughed, running a hoof through her stringy mane. “And you are far too sentimental to be worthy of a throne. Don’t fret, I’ll make sure your precious prince improves for the better. If anything, I’ll make certain that everything is more efficient.” Cadance gasped, halfway up the dais, her hoofsteps faltering. The room tilted for a moment, blurring in and out of focus before shifting upright again. As a few tear-blurred Chrysalis’s swam in Cadance’s vision, a few tingling stabs of pain began creeping up her hooves.  She looked down, stomping her hooves to try to shake off the sensation, but it persisted, bringing with it an uncomfortable numbness. Her wings ached like she’d slept on them wrong, and she flared them out to try to hide her discomfort.  “You really think you’ll fool them? Everypony is on high alert thanks to your little stunt. I doubt you’ll remain undetected until supper, and that’s being pretty generous with my estimations.” Her wings were starting to sting, but instead of giving in she lifted her head to face her nemesis. Queen Chrysalis, for her part, had propped herself up on one hoofrest. The faintest flicker of discomfort flitted across her expression, but it was gone in an instant. “It’s only a matter of time before I succeed. I will prevail, Cadance, and my children will prosper because of it.” “Are you sure about that? You don’t know the meaning of being a mother,” snarled the Princess, fighting through the stabbing sensation as it inched towards her heart. “You’ve never loved anypony like I love my daughter and husband, and my citizens won’t be fooled for a second without it.”  “Love?” Chrysalis spat, resting her head on one hoof. “Don’t make me laugh. Your empire is in love with the idea of love, the idea of a Crystal Princess. They don’t care about you, so long as somepony vaguely pastel is on the throne. You’re not even one of them. You’re a figurehead. And your family? Well, Flurry’s as much of my child as she is yours, and Shining might as well have-”  Cadance’s hoof smacked against Chrysalis’s face, the agony only slightly dulled by the thin downy fur on the changeling’s cheek. “Flurry is my daughter, and you have no right-”  “I have every right!” Chrysalis’s amethyst eyes flashed with rage before she settled back against the seat. “I’ve had hundreds of children, and I’ll have hundreds more by the time your little alicorn filly is old enough to forget the weak, pathetic ruler you used to be. She’s special, of course, and I promise to treat her like one of my own. Same with your husband. Perhaps I might even make a proper Captain of the Guard out of him.”  “You’re… you…” Princess Cadance toppled to the floor as the piercing pain intensified. “You… you poisoned…” The queen flicked a strand of curly mane out of her face. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re far more useful to me alive than dead. If it helps any, it feels like you’ve actually managed to bruise me this time. Didn’t think a creature like you had it in you.” Cadance did her best not to writhe on the floor. Her horn burned as she tried to form some sort of coherent response, but her vision was clouding over again. “A creature… like me? What are you-”  “I know what you’re afraid of,” the mare on the throne said softly, almost tenderly. “You don’t want to lose your child. Sure, she’s a hoofful and you’ve lost many a night’s sleep with worry, but you love her all the same.” “I… I love-” She blinked owlishly up at the other, and the black and green and pink and violet was too much and too bright all at once, so she shut her eyes again. Queen Cadance gave her a thoughtful hum. “Trust me, I understand. I’ve lost children. Hundreds of them died as we fought to survive, hundreds more shattered completely when the shield you and your precious husband cast impacted their tender chitin. But still, Flurry lives. Your child, as much as mine.”  “No.” The creature on the ground trembled, the burn in her hooves starting to cool, at first comforting and then nothing but numbness and a slight pressure. A familiar pressure? She didn’t dare open her eyes. “My child, mine. My kingdom, and my husband, and-”  “I love my children, even when they’ve betrayed me. I love Flurry Heart. I swear on my throne, she was never truly in harm’s way earlier, but even if you’d doubted that, you still had to risk everything to get her to safety.” A quiet buzz from the direction of the throne faded into a near-silent rustle. “It’s what I would have done. Now, Shining on the other hoof...” Princess Chrysalis dared to squint up at the alicorn on the throne. Her throne. “Don’t you dare lay a hoof on him. I-” Something was wrong. Wrong with her mouth, in the way her teeth cut into her tongue when she spoke. Wrong with her body, with the lack of feedback she felt against her wings, only the faintest whisper of wind against them as they twitched. But worst of all, something was wrong inside her. Something was missing. Something important. Cadance brushed one of her wings against her as she shivered on the floor. “You were going to say you love him, or something to that effect, right?” “What did you do to me?” “The same thing you’ve done to me, and I to you in retaliation, I’m certain. I can’t quite remember, it’s been so long.” Chrysalis raised a hoof to wipe the threat of a tear from her eye, but paused as she caught sight of it. “This can’t be right. I’m not a changeling. I’m not some heartless creature like you, I’m-” “You’re a mother who’s lost it all,” said the Princess softly. “A ruler without a throne. A Queen without the blind admiration of your kind. I’ve been there, trust me, but it’s time for justice to be served, and I’m taking Shining Armor and Flurry Heart back.” “No, I’m the Princess of Love, and they’ll know you replaced me. You can’t do this, you’re-” “A monster? Oh, please. Listen to yourself.” Cadance’s horn lit as she levitated the bejewled tiara from Chrysalis’s head before carefully replacing it with the crooked crown that befit her. “I don’t quite know when we began this charade, but in a few hours I know I’ll forget all the pain you’ve given me, and I’ll get to rest with my daughter and husband.” The changeling recoiled, stumbling to her hooves. Each word stabbed like a knife in her heart. “But I don’t have your memories! I won’t forget this, I-” “You will, of course, just like me.” The alicorn lifted herself from the throne and stretched out her wings, each primary glinting like a newborn’s. “The only reason I remembered is because I wrote it all down, and I burnt that record. If you choose to hold on to whatever truth you make of this mess, I recommend tree stumps. They’re quite the flammable companion.” Chrysalis wobbled and glared her most intimidating glare at the Princess who took everything she loved from her. “You’re lying. This is some sort of horrible trick. I would’ve recorded it too if it had actually happened.” Suddenly, the pink alicorn was an inch from her face, her gaze cold as crystal. “Would you have? I doubt that very much, because you didn’t.” Cadance smirked, the light returning to her eyes. “Who knows? I might make some sort of record of it. I’ll be the better you, because I’ll be prepared to stop you. If you want my advice, little bug, I’d forget this ever happened. I hear your lost children might be able to reform you with the power of love and friendsh-”  “How many times?” The Princess blinked. “Beg your pardon?” Chrysalis’s breath tasted of copper. “How many times have we done this? How many times has Shining Armor lost his wife? Or the Crystal Empire lost its Princess, or Flurry lost her mother?”  Cadance shrugged. “Funny thing, I don’t think they ever really have. It’s my life, as much as yours. As far as I can guess, we could’ve been doing this since the wedding. Maybe earlier. Does it matter?” The changeling slumped as she turned to a window. “I think it does, or it did at one point. I don’t want to lose my life, Cadance. I don’t think either of us should forget.” A faint staccato of hoofbeats rumbled a few floors away. Faster than the changeling could blink, Cadance lept towards the throne room doors… … and quietly closed them, her horn lighting to keep them shut, her expression unreadable. Chrysalis felt a tiny burst of hope. “Look, this won’t be fair to Flurry when she grows up. I know my husband is a bit, shall we say, unobservant, but there’s no way she won’t figure out something’s suspicious.” The alicorn laughed hollowly. “She won’t if this is the last time.” “If either of us forget, it might as well be!” A flash of shadow soared across one of the windows, and Chrysalis shied away from them. “You’ve been in my place. Even when my memory goes, writing it down won’t stop me from facing the consequences one of us earned, and we’ll be back to doing this without the other’s support.”  Cadance cocked her head, her stare never leaving the door. “What do you propose?” “I don’t know.” Chrysalis bit her lip, almost hard enough to bleed. “I don’t know, there isn’t a perfect solution that doesn’t make one of us suffer forever, but I do think we can’t do it alone. Please, if nothing else, remember what happened. Write it down. Maybe we can tell somepony, and-” A persistent knock sounded at the door, and Cadance pressed herself against it as though she were holding up the castle with it. “And what then? Any faith anypony had in you, or me, or whoever originally was the Princess will vanish in an instant! We can’t exactly raise Flurry Heart with two possible mothers who’ve both lost their memory.” “But she’s our daughter. Ours. And we’ve got hundreds of other children who deserve a mother, too.” Quieter, she added “And we’d do anything for Flurry Heart. If nothing else, we’ll work through whatever happens for her.” Cadance turned back to give the changeling a feeble smirk, almost perfectly hiding the tears welling up in her eyes. “Feeling like reforming? Is the horrible monster finally seeing the magic of friendship? Gonna burst into song?” Chrysalis looked down at her hooves, fluttered her paper-thin wings, then sighed. “I’m not sure it’ll be that easy. Somehow, I don’t think I’d be happy about it when I forget about everything in a few hours, but maybe we’ll heal in time.” The alicorn rolled her eyes. “We? I’ll be fine by suppertime, regardless of what we decide.” “It is our choice, though. Yours as much as mine.” Chrysalis raised her volume slightly to be heard over the desperate pounding on the throne room doors. “Please, help me, Cadance.”  For a split second, Cadance’s magic wavered, and it was only her panicked alicorn strength that kept the door from knocking her off her hooves. “Help you? That’s a new one.” “Maybe I’ll be a better you, while you’ll be a better me.” She tried to flash a smile at the Princess, but the fangs made it rather difficult. “I’ll do it better if I’ve got you on my side. Help me pick Flurry Heart, when I want revenge. Help me pick my child- our children- when I’m hurting, and I promise I’ll do the same, because I know how hard it is to be a ruler of an empire who doesn’t love you for you… and I know how hard it can be to be a mother who has to fight for who she loves.” Cadance sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head against the door as the muffled shouts continued. “You say that, now, but it’ll be a very different story when all you’ve got to trust that this happened is my word.” “You came for Flurry Heart,” Chrysalis replied simply. “All you had was a note scratched on wood, and yet you couldn’t stop fighting for her. I love her as best as I can right now, and if you didn’t let her go, I won’t either. Besides, we’re in this together, aren’t we?”  A hint of a smile teased the corners of Cadance’s lips. “As far as I know, we always have been.” The relative quiet stretched on for a few more seconds before a thought struck Chrysalis. “You said I was more useful to you alive than dead. Why?” “Because I don’t know who deserves to be the changeling, and a part of me’s afraid this was all my doing.” She slowly opened her eyes, her stare distant. “I don’t think either of us likes to think that we’re the villain, else you probably would have had me killed when we last switched places.” Chrysalis wavered where she stood. “I’d like to think that I never considered it, but we are as similar as different ponies can be. I hope we’ll be stronger together than apart.” “We’ll have to be.” The Princess stepped back until she was side-by-side with the changeling Queen. “Last chance, Chrysalis,” she said quietly, her horn sparking with the effort of keeping the doors shut. “Last chance to back out.” “Together,” said Chrysalis, bracing herself as best as she could. “We’ll deal with this together.” The doors slammed open, so loud they drowned out the words both mares whispered. For Flurry.