After learning that the Terrible Trio, the three villains who got closer than any other to destroying Equestria, were still aware and awake while frozen in stone, Princess Twilight Sparkle has decided to commute their remaining sentences and find appropriate forms of parole for each of the prisoners.
But while Cozy Glow has been remanded to the custody of Equestria's new Princess of Chaos, and Tirek has been shipped back to his homeland and his family, Chrysalis is proving a very tricky being to imprison, control, or reform. She's simply too cunning, too powerful, and perhaps too crazy.
And that is why Twilight has called in the experts. Not only will she seek answers from the Reformed Changeling Empire and its Royals, but also with a certain former Student of Friendship. Perhaps, together, they can provide Chrysalis a second chance at friendship.
“… not gonna happen, nope. Not even thinking about it. Not in your dreams. Not in my dreams. Sorry, but I must decline. Not in a million years. Nu-huh. Zero. Nein. Non…”
Princess Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic, Sovereign of Equestria, Alicornae Eternum Magna Regina, Uniter of Creatures, and Penguinness Book of Equestrian Records’ Tallest Alicorn on Equus, sighed wearily. She glanced down at her large, impressive desk and noted with some annoyance that her empty coffee cup was still, tragically, empty.
She silently cursed the fact that she hadn’t thought to prepare a second cup. She had been in this room, listening to Prince Pharynx protest, for close to fifteen minutes.
“… Nahīṁ,” he continued in Punjockey, and then followed in another language with, “Nej! Neigh, nay! Net…”
They were in her private office, the one buried deep in the heart of Mount Canterhorn itself. The one she’d had excavated along with much of the mountain’s underground crystal caverns when she’d taken the reins of leadership over twenty years ago. The one that was essentially a librarian’s bunker, complete with at least five stories of bookshelf space, drifting automagical light-spells, and had every modern and magical amenity she could either devise or have translated over from the human world beyond the Mirror.
Coffee machines included.
Even if she wasn’t intimately familiar with the slow orbit of the celestial spheres, and had only the atomic clock on her desk – plus the rather gaudy thaumonuclear one taking up a sizeable chunk of one wall – to go by, she could tell that this meeting had gone on far, far, far longer already than she’d planned.
And it was all because Prince Pharynx, King Thorax’s second-in-command of the Reformed Changeling Empire, was acting like a spoiled nymph.
And he was still talking.
“… We regret to inform you that this is a thing which is both impossible, and highly insulting to consider. Never in a thousand years…”
“You already said a million,” Twilight muttered, eyebrow raised.
Pharynx didn’t even slow down. “Thousands are different from millions. Also, not in a billion years, nor a trillion…”
With a soft, regal huff, Twilight finally interrupted the royal changeling.
“Are you quite finished yet?”
“No!” Pharynx declared. Then, after scrunching his nose a bit, and letting the air settle, he quietly added, “There. Now, I’m done.”
Finally, he reached out with his bright blue magic aura, and hefted up his own cup. Not coffee, of course. Caffeine was quite lethal to changelings, Twilight had found, and so had provided a nice hot mug of chocolate milk, honey, and sugar for the visiting dignitary.
It was, naturally, a Pinkie Pie creation after the famous party pony had discovered how much changelings liked sugar, even more so than ponies generally did.
Pharynx downed the stomach-churningly sweet drink happily. In three gulps, it was all gone, and he’d placed the cup back onto her desktop, almost certainly deliberately missing the coaster.
And then, he stiffly stood up from the seat he’d occupied across from the Princess, and began to leave the office without a backward glance.
“Prince Pharynx?” Twilight asked, though in a tone that made it clear it wasn’t a question. “We’re not done here.”
Pharynx paused, mid-stride, and half-turned around.
“Uh, pretty sure we were,” he said with a frown. “I’m not sure if I know more than one-hundred-and-fifty-two ways to say ‘No’.”
“Pharynx…” Twilight warned.
“Ah, whadd’ya want me to say, Princess?” the changeling royal whined and turned around fully. “She was a complete and utter monster. And you called me up here to talk about letting her go? I’mma have to give a hard pass, on behalf of the Hive.”
“Your Highness,” Twilight said again, with a wearying sigh, “the punishment was cruel and unusual…”
“And deserved!” he hissed back. “Beyond what she did to other tribes and creatures, she destroyed our own culture! We lost so many centuries of knowledge and history to her vanity. Anything that didn’t agree with her warped self-importance or her view on reality was burned out of us.
“She did this!” Pharynx flashed with blue fire, his dark cyan and crimson form returning to the old, black chitinous one the changelings had long since moved on from. He held up one hoof, and displayed the holes in his foreleg with an accusatory jab.
Twilight found it hard to look. Only decades of experience kept her reaction to something as small as a twitch of disgust and fear.
“Cruel?” Pharynx snarled as he shifted back into his true form. “Maybe. But deserved.”
“Pharynx…” Twilight said with a shake of her head. “She’s still your moth—”
“Out of respect for decades of friendship,” he cut in instantly, eyes narrowing, “I will refrain from declaring war on Equestria if you don’t finish that sentence.”
The Princess bit down on her words, and met Pharynx’s heated glare.
She knew that this conversation would go this way. She’d planned on it. Every mental calculation and graph and chart she’d composed this morning told her what Pharynx would most likely say, and do.
Naturally, that meant she knew to say:
“Then we owe it to future generations of changelings, ponies, and all creatures… to be better than her.”
They each stared at one another. Pharynx’s gaze had been honed through years of discipline and warfare. He’d lived a life of unending cruelties and hardships, Twilight knew, and then a life of things that he’d defend against such hardships with his very life, if it was called for.
By contrast, all Twilight had backing her stare was the weight of her convictions.
Pharynx never really stood a chance.
He blinked first.
“This… isn’t one of those things I have a say in, is it?” he sighed.
“Not really, no,” Twilight admitted, shaking her head softly.
“Well, is there a reason for me to be here then?” he asked with a touch of sarcasm in his tone. “Or did you just want me to let Thorax know? Cuz you could have just sent him a letter.”
Despite the venom in his voice, Pharynx started back towards his seat. He didn’t even throw it across the room or break it into splinters or anything like that, which Twilight assumed was a good sign.
She nodded to the prince, hoping that a modicum of respect would help keep the rest of her meeting as smooth as possible.
“While I have the final say on the terms of Chrysalis’ release,” she said, “it wouldn’t be fair for me to shut the changelings out of this process. I specifically asked for you, because of your background in security, your reputation for vigilance…”
He tried to hide it, but Pharynx did swell slightly with pride when she said that.
“… and your knowledge of changeling abilities and biological functions,” Twilight finished with a more serious expression darkening her face. She leaned forward slightly, and said, “I respect your Hive’s wishes to not share medical data with anycreature outside of the changelings themselves, but…”
Pharynx grumbled, and folded his hooves before him. “We were the world’s number one enemy for a thousand years, Princess,” he said, a slight darkening in his cheeks the only evidence that he may have been ashamed of that fact. “If you had as many enemies as we do, you wouldn’t be so quick to share that sort of information.”
Twilight nodded. “Of course. We already know what caffeine can do to a changeling, so it’s very possible there are a lot of odd weaknesses your changelings might have that you wouldn’t want exploited.”
The prince said nothing. It was the silence that was most telling to Twilight.
“Again, I respect those wishes,” she sighed. “Truth be told, the changelings in the Guard wouldn’t disclose information of that nature to our doctors either. I assume that makes you feel a little more at ease?”
Pharynx tilted his head to one side, and turned just enough to somewhat hide his smirk. Twilight knew he’d always been the one most vocal against allowing changelings to leave the hive and join the Equestrian Guard for that very reason.
Must have been nice, learning that your own people were still your people.
“A little,” he admitted.
Then, slowly, he returned his gaze – still a little suspicious, still a bit calculating – to the Princess. Pharynx sighed, and said, “Alright. What’s the plan?”
“Good Mo-o-o-orning!” Ocellus sang as she pranced down the stairs leading to her room. She had taken the attic as her own when she moved into the three-story Ponyville home so she could set up a telescope and mini-observatory with a good view. It meant hiking up and down the most stairs in the house, but Ocellus considered it a sort of tribute to her old friend Silverstream, who was probably doing the exact same thing in the Canterlot apartment she was sharing with Gallus.
Ocellus skipped past Smolder’s room on the second story and tried not to stare too closely at the mess that was surely in there, despite the fact that Smolder had probably spent all night in her office, finishing paper-grading that she knew she should have started a week before.
Don’t think about it, she coached herself. You’re her roommate and colleague, not her parent.
A bit more pleasantly, Ocellus noted that her young cousin Mandible’s room, just at the top of the last flight of stairs, was in pristine condition. The only disturbing element was that his bed/maturation pod was hanging from the ceiling by a thin line of changeling wax, but Ocellus reasoned that the next generation were all a bit strange compared to hers.
The bright blue changeling smiled as she launched herself down the stairs and into the kitchen, laughing, “Who’s ready for a great day?”
There were two half-cheer-half-grumbles from the little breakfast table. The slightly more enthusiastic response was from Mandible, or Dib as his Cutie Mark Crusader friends called him. The bright orange nymph was a little preoccupied guzzling down a bowl of sugary sweet cereal, and so his response was somewhat muffled.
The second, even less cheerful response, was from the other member of the household.
“There’s no such thing as a good morning,” Smolder groaned, and drew another red ink line across the paper she was grading. There were three empty coffee mugs nearby, as well as four energy bars, and two of those disgusting energy drinks Smolder was always importing from the human world.
“Oh, but there is!” Ocellus cheered, perhaps trying to counterbalance the amount of grump in the room just then. “Today, I get to start my lesson on Reconciling with Once-Enemies, and then we have that new training session after school…”
“Joy,” Smolder snarled.
“… with Miss Trixie and Capper. I get to present the activity, which I think you’ll li-i-i-ike!” Ocellus sang out the last bit.
“I bet I wo-o-on’t,” Smolder said, not even trying to sing-song back.
Ocellus rolled her eyes, but kept her smile. “Fine, be grumpy!” she laughed, and made for the food cupboard. “But seriously, you’ll like it…”
Dib, finally polishing off his breakfast, smacked his lips and sighed with content.
“They really need to import more human cereal to the Hive,” he said, wistfully. “Seriously, who ever thought to add marshmallows to cereal?”
Smolder chuckled, and crossed out an improper conjunction. “Well, Pinkie Pie tried something like that once, but she mostly just made smores and soaked them in milk…”
Both Ocellus and Dib shuddered involuntarily at the thought. All that sugar. All that sugar!
“So, kid,” Smolder asked as Ocellus returned to the process of rummaging for breakfast, “what’s up with you today?”
Dib shook off the image of sugary goodness, and smiled wickedly. “Oh, well Miss Silver Spoon said we’re doing some kind of pony derby thing, but I got no idea what that’s about. But then, Ann’s teaching Cozy Glow about trust-falls after school. I’m gonna bring popcorn.”
Ocellus glanced over her shoulder, and shot her cousin a curiously arched eyebrow. “Popcorn? To a trust-fall exercise?”
Dib nodded enthusiastically. “Ann’s teleporting us to some place called the Cliffs of Insanity to do it. So—”
Smolder snorted, and quickly turned her head before a jet of laughing-fire could disintegrate the paper in her claws.
“Oh smokes!” she chuckled and coughed in equal measure to get her fire under control. “That kid is something else!”
“Dib?” Ocellus said with a frown. “Please tell Anarchy to come see me after school. Before she starts lobbing her parolee off a cliff.”
Perhaps realizing his day was ruined, Dib sighed and nodded along.
“We should really give Anarchy some tips for dealing with Cozy Glow,” Ocellus said as she went back to rummaging through the cupboard. “It’s not about knowing the friendship lessons, remember? Her problem was—”
“Being a psychopath?”
“… not internalizing them, Smolder,” Ocellus groaned. She brushed another box out of her way with one hoof, and her frown deepened. “Hey, do… we not have any more tea?”
Smolder blinked. “I just went for tea last night.”
“Well,” Ocellus drew out one empty box of non-caffeinated tea packets, and several bags of coffee, “I think you might have misread a few labels.”
Smolder smacked her face, and let her ear-horns droop. “Ah, jeez… I’m sorry, Lus! I totally didn’t…”
But Ocellus was already smiling again, and fluttered over to her friend. She placed a placating hoof on her scaley shoulder, and said, “Don’t worry about it! I didn’t get poisoned this time, so no worries.
“And…” she sighed, smile wavering as the changeling turned towards the front door, “…I might have enough time to swing by the store before work.”
Dib’s head fringe stood straight up, and he raised one foreleg.
“Ooh! Ooh!” he cried. “Can you also pick up more cereal?”
Ocellus held back another sigh, but there wasn’t much reason to. Just looking at her cousin’s bright beaming eyes was enough to pick her mood back up. She giggled, and gave him a casual nod as she moved towards the door.
Right, she thought to herself. Grab a bag, hit the shop, go to school, teach the lesson four times, get everycreature to do the bobbing-for-apples-slash-gemstones activity, grade papers, try not to think about what happened with—
She caught herself, just as her magic was about to grip the door handle to her home.
She’d almost thought about… the thing she wasn’t supposed to.
I hope that feeling goes away, eventually…
Ocellus sighed, again, and opened the door.
Then, before she knew it, she’d smacked her face directly into somecreature’s chest.
A dark cyan chest. Covered in tough, but warm and flexible chiton.
A chest she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
She almost gasped in surprise, and stumbled backward, wings flaring at her back with a buzzing ferocity. Ocellus blinked her eyes a few times, to snap her out of her shock…
Only to find the shock wasn’t going away.
“Um… hey, Lus,” Prince Pharynx said with a half-hearted wave, and a lowered head. His ears were flat against his skull, and Ocellus could practically taste the wincing pain behind his eyes. “Um… how’re things?”
Ocellus blinked.
“So, for starters,” Twilight began with the click of her mechanical pen. “Chrysalis, even in a love-starved state, is probably still quite a physical threat. Am I correct in assuming this?”
Pharynx worked his jaw for a few seconds, before he gave a little shrug, and said, “We Royals are made of tougher stuff than drones, yeah.”
Twilight scratched out a few notes, and paused. She waited a few moments. Then, she glanced back to the prince.
“Uh, could you elaborate?”
“If I have to,” Pharynx grumbled. “Besides the fact that Chrysalis is huge – which comes with an accompanying increase in strength and mass – Royals don’t work like other changelings. We have, like, these extra organs that can generate a tiny amount of Love in emergencies, and more generally redirect Love around us.”
Hungrily, Twilight wrote that down. “Fascinating…!”
Pharynx shrugged again. “I guess. Ocellus… uh, Ocellus used to say it was probably because we have ewi… ewo… ur…?”
“Eusocial?” Twilight offered. Though, even as she took her official notes, she quickly scribbled another one down as Pharynx stumbled upon that name.
Pharynx pointed at her with one hoof. “That, yes. Eusocial tendencies. Queens and Kings and Princes and Princesses can redistribute Love in a Hive to control population, manage resources, all that jazz. We’re like little love engines, that way. I keep waking up with nymphs and drones clustered around me, like I’m some sort of sleep heater!
“The grubs have started calling my brother Papa Thorax, since he encourages these group Love Naps to boost energy levels,” he added with a disgusted shake of his head.
Twilight’s pen skipped.
“… Population control?” she asked. “Does that mean changelings use Love energy in order to…?”
He narrowed his eyes again, but the ghost of a smirk was still on his lips. “Heh, yes? Don’t ponies do the same?”
The Princess blushed deeply, and tried to avoid eye contact.
“Ahem, right,” she said quickly, “let’s get… uh, back on track. So, she’s not completely defenseless. I suppose I’ll assign six guards to her instead of…”
The room suddenly echoed with barking laughter. Twilight’s wings actually picked up at the wretched sound, and she nearly dropped her notepad when she heard it.
It took her a second to realize it was Pharynx laughing. He nearly rolled out of his chair, only catching himself at the last possible instant with a practiced buzz of his wings to reverse his momentum.
After several long, long seconds, he seemed controlled enough to meet her frown with a grin.
“Sorry, were you trying to be serious?” he chuckled. “Uh, Princess? How do you think Chrysalis broke in here before your brother’s wedding?”
Twilight was quiet for a long, drawn-out second.
“I’d like not to answer that…”
“She literally walked in,” Pharynx said, tapping the table with his hoof for emphasis. “Your guards are a joke! Heck, the second time, a bunch of us pretended to be a cake delivery team, and we got to ride Celestia’s express elevator.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, we didn’t,” he laughed again. “But it wasn’t much harder than that. Both your predecessors have glass jaws, by the way…”
Pharynx let out a few more chuckles and chortles before he could reliably breathe again. Meanwhile, Twilight merely glared grumpily down at the changeling, ever so slightly incensed at the very notion that her guards weren’t capable.
“I mean, no offense,” he said at last, still smirking. “It’s just… how do you think I got in here?”
“I think you’ve made your… huh?” Twilight raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean? How did you…?”
At the front gates of Canterlot Palace, Burnished Bronze stood nobly and proud. Her armor gleamed in the glorious sunlight, and the wind lightly tousled the purple fringe atop her elegant helmet. The spear at her side… was dulled, and made of plastic, but it sure looked impressive. And that was the point!
She scanned the street with a steely, eagle-eyed gaze. Every pony or creature who passed could be a potential threat, a malefactor. Every shadow could be hiding an unknown foe, a conspiracy against the crown itself.
Every leaf on every tree was suspect. And if she had her way, the pegasus guard would have every one of the arboreal traitors cut down and--
“Loser says what.”
She blinked.
“What?”
Her partner, the eternally lazy Silver Hoof, startled himself out of a daydream, and turned to her.
“What?”
“You said something.”
He blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“Uh, no? Wait, did I?”
Burnished glared. “You did.”
“What did I say?” Silver asked, eyes widening. “I’m not coming down with something, am I?”
“Oh no!” Burnished jabbed his chest armor with one accusatory hoof. “You’re out of paid sick leave, you oaf! You’re not leaving me out here with Copper Kettle, or Tin Pot!”
And thus began the age-old argument between guards over which raw recruit they’d rather be trapped working with, and who had a better excuse to ask for leave or a vacation.
By the time the argument shifted back to a milder topic, like where to get lunch, the small potted plant who’d actually spoken first was already skittering down the halls of the palace complex.
Before she could ask for more information, the air pressure of the room shifted. There was a flash of brilliant golden light back towards the door, and the soft pop of a teleportation spell going off. Celeste Lulamoon, daughter of Starswirl the Bearded and Trixie Lulamoon, and one of Twilight’s top students of magic, appeared instantly and gave a soft, indignant huff.
“You know?” the pale gray mare said as she materialized into the room. She tossed her bright green wizard hat and cloak over to a nearby coat rack, and shook out her blue-gray mane. “If Pharynx doesn’t take these meetings seriously, then maybe he doesn’t get a say in the whole process…”
Twilight’s eyes widened, and she tried to cut in, saying, “Celeste! Pharynx…!”
“Seriously, how is he this bad at time management!?” Celeste pressed on as she teleported a hot mug of cocoa to herself and took a sip. “I mean, if this is how he treats meeting you, I’m not surprised Ocellus dumped…”
Pharynx was up and out of his seat faster than a bolt of lightning. His eyes narrowed, and his teeth bared as he turned half around in his seat and glared back at the unicorn.
“Hey! She didn’t…!”
Celeste stared back, completely unfazed. Well, slightly fazed. In that she was smirking now, and her eyes were smugly half-lidded.
This caused Pharynx to slowly lower his ears, and for his frown to deepen.
“You knew I was sitting there, didn’t you?”
“Yup,” Celeste said with a chuckle, and took another sip of cocoa. “Got an alarm spell on the door in case something like yesterday’s Cozy Glow incident happens again. You’re really easy to rile up, you know that?”
Twilight, firmly pressing her temples with both hooves, sighed profusely.
“So, you… snuck past my guards one day after they were embarrassed by Cozy Glow’s little rampage through here…?”
Pharynx, returning to his seat, shrugged. “Eh, made my point. And to be fair, Gallus let me in.”
“Why?” asked Celeste, hopping up onto a padded stool to one side of the room. She took what looked to be her customary place while sitting in on the Princess’ meetings, and continued to drink her cocoa.
“He thought it was funny,” Pharynx said with a small snort. “The griff’s got a good eye, I’ll give him that. Only one of your guards who even had a clue I was there.”
“Of course, he did that…” Twilight sighed again.
Guess I’m going to have to listen to his Guard budget requests next year.
“Back to what we were discussing,” Twilight said, quickly. She snatched up her notes, and gave the last few a glance. “I assume you’ll want changeling guards included in the group assigned to her?”
“Of course,” said Pharynx, crossing his forehooves. “But that just means we’ll be around to deal with her when she tries to escape. And even love-starved, she could still transform and cast spells to get away or hurt somecreature else.”
Celeste scrunched up her muzzle, and frowned into her cocoa.
“How? She’ll be wearing a Magic-Suppressor, won’t she?”
Pharynx blinked, and tilted his head towards the newcomer.
“One of those horn-rings, right?” he asked. “Wouldn’t work.”
“Oh?” Celeste’s ears twitched aggressively forward. “I’ll have you know I designed the current batch myself.”
“Wouldn’t matter,” Pharynx repeated. “Those things don’t work on changeling magic.”
Twilight nearly dropped her pen as her mind registered Pharynx’s words. She snapped her head up, and stared wide-eyed at the changeling.
“They…?”
“Yup,” he said with a nod. Then, he pointed to the Princess’ horn. “Your magic systems are all internalized, right? A pool of mana or chakra or whatever connecting your spirit and your stomach? And it’s all hooked up to the rest of you with channels and nodes and such?”
The Princess’ inner teacher wailed at the oversimplification. But… in the interest of learning something about changeling magic, she supposed she could let the lecture slide.
As a coping mechanism, she used her magic to cause a second pen thirteen levels down in one of her Arcane Laboratories to write out the lecture in one of the nearby books left open and prepared for such an eventuality.
Never let a good lecture go to waste.
When she nodded, Pharynx continued.
“Well, ours isn’t quite like that,” he said. Then, with almost no hesitation, he added, “Ocellus talked to me about it once, that one month she decided to become a doctor…”
Twilight cringed at the memory, and of the damages suffered to Canterlot General when the knowledge-hungry changeling had run amok through its halls in pursuit of its secrets. Patients pestered, doctors dumbfounded, and nurses bugged.
Why is Pinkie nowhere to be found when I make these zingers?
And, even if Ocellus did get that doctorate eventually, it was a wild month.
“… and I can’t really explain it like she can,” he added with a shrug, “but basically, our magic systems are diffused. Like the Love we store, it’s scattered throughout our bodies in little packets and pockets and… whatever else is a word for small things like that.
“Biggest difference, though…” He reached up and tapped on his chitinous horn. “… is that these things are more or less decorative. Unicorn loses a horn, and it’s a bad thing. Changeling loses a horn? We grow it back in a few days or weeks. Really, we can channel our magic through our chiton.”
Twilight and Celeste shared a look. It was a look of, among other things, sudden and inescapable dread. Celeste’s eyes took on a distant visage as her mind, packed so full of magical knowledge that only Twilight, Starlight Glimmer, and perhaps Starswirl himself could match her, began to grind through the problem before her.
And it was a problem.
“So,” Twilight said slowly, “there’s no way to bind her magic?”
“Cutting off the horn would help,” Pharynx replied, scratching the back of his neck with one hoof. “But all she’d need is a few moments to focus and…”
“Chrysalis would be free again,” Twilight finished with a sigh. She glanced back to her student, who was still staring into the ether, mouth working through the thaumic calculations, one hoof idly pawing at the air before her.
After another moment, Celeste closed her eyes. And with a sigh, she met the Princess’ eyes and shook her head.
“I… I don’t know how I can counter something like that,” she said, eyes downcast. “If Ann hadn’t destroyed Grogar’s Bell, or if we could replicate Tirek’s abilities…”
“Let’s not immediately descend into dark magic, please.” Twilight shook her head and tapped her desk with a bit more energy than was needed to snap Celeste from her reverie.
Twilight thought. And she thought. Her eyes closed, and her brow furrowed until it resembled a freshly ploughed field. She blew hot air from her nostrils, and took a moment to brush the ethereal strands of her eternally-wafting mane out of her face.
And then, she opened her eyes.
“Pharynx?” Her voice was tight, and strained. But it was also utterly in control of herself. It trembled like a taut bowstring, and Pharynx seemed to register that instantly.
“Your Majesty?”
Twilight drew herself up, and set her jaw. “Prince Pharynx, is there any way… any way at all that you can think of that would allow us to negate Chrysalis’ magic in a harmlessmanner? Without the need to maim her in any way?”
He shook his head. “There’s n—”
Pharynx’s voice quieted. His mouth clicked shut.
Twilight recognized the way his eyes began darting down and to the side. She recognized the way his forehooves twitched ever so slightly, and his wings vibrated against their constraints.
She often felt the same way when somecreature asked her a question she knew she shouldn’t answer, but could.
The Prince licked his lips, and hesitantly raised his eyes to meet the towering alicorn’s own.
He and Ocellus sat in her living room, on separate chairs. She took her own, a deeply cushioned monstrosity nearest to the kitchen, while Pharynx had taken Smolder’s tough, sturdy seat beside the fireplace.
They were alone in the house, Smolder and Dib getting out as soon as they realized who had come to visit. Smolder quickly mumbled some excuses, and promised she’d get a substitute for Ocellus’ classes for the day. Dib had awkwardly walked in place a few moments, probably deciding if he was allowed to be excited to see Uncle Pharynx around again, before buzzing off towards school.
The prisoner still stood outside, surrounded by a dozen Equestrian Royal Guards, and a further dozen Imperial Changeling Guards.
Ocellus hadn’t blinked in a solid minute. Pharynx was about to get worried when she started breathing again.
“You told them about the Restoration Spell!?” she cried, eyes widening further, breath coming in and out faster. “Even Thorax agreed that thing should be considered Top Secret!”
“I know,” Pharynx said calmly, “I was there…”
“If anycreature knew about that, there’d be all sorts of…!”
“I know.”
“... hurt feelings!!!”
Pharynx stared at the hyperventilating changeling, and silently reminded himself that she was probably serious about that concern.
“I mean,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “I’d be more worried about the security risks, if anycreature heard what it could do without the spell being explained first…”
“But… why that spell?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat. “I mean, I know you. What could…”
She blinked, finally. Ocellus’ breath caught in her throat a moment, and she seemed to instantly calm down, returning to her normal rhythm.
“… She can’t cast spells or use changeling magic for a while after, right? That was the reason?”
Pharynx shrugged.
One hoof tapped Ocellus’ chin as she became pensive.
“So, she’s powerless right now,” she mused. “I bet that appeals to you. After everything you told me about her.”
He just shrugged again. Somehow, this got a little smile out of Ocellus.
“And you told the Princess about the spell,” she said, humming softly to herself.
“What?” Pharynx frowned. “She’s our ally, and she asked me a question. Did you want me to lie?”
“Of course not!” Ocellus waved him down with a forehoof. “It’s just that, last time we talked, you were, uh…”
Pharynx huffed through his nose, and looked away.
“Changelings First,” he said, more sadly than Ocellus had ever heard him utter the phrase. “Yeah, I know what I.... But this time is different.”
Ocellus didn’t hide her grimace at hearing… that again. But she also didn’t say anything. Everything that had to be said had already been said, and in far angrier, if justified, tones than she had the energy to feel right now.
A moment later, once the predictable thoughts ran through her mind, Ocellus finally caught the last part of what Pharynx had said.
This time is different...
“Because she’s your mother…”
“That’s not…!”
“... which isn’t wrong to feel,” she said quickly, hooves up and placating. “But, Pharynx. You shared that with Princess Twilight! A non-changeling. That’s… I mean, considering last time, I’m sort of proud of you, you know?”
Ocellus frowned. “Well, okay, not proud… but it’s still an improvement. And I should encourage such behavior.”
Pharynx squirmed in his seat, and looked at her again. “I’d be a really lousy changeling if I couldn’t adapt to change. I’m not an idiot, Ocellus. Working with other kingdoms is…”
He stopped, and looked to be physically chewing on his words for a moment.
“I don’t hate any of them,” he said slowly. “I mean, Smolder and I got along well enough on her less annoying days. That Tempest Shadow mare wasn’t bad when we were running exercises with the Crystal Guard. And I don’t complain too much when Discord drags me off to his O&O games…”
Ocellus bit down hard on her tongue. Laughing now would not be conducive to mending fences.
“But like I told you, before…” Pharynx gave a noncommittal shake of his hoof. “Whenever I’m in a room with all of the other creatures together, I feel like at any moment they’re going to remember what we did to them for a thousand years. I can’t relax. I can’t even breathe.”
“Because you’re…” Ocellus stopped herself at the last moment.
That’s what started the fight in the first place.
Pharynx’s whole body seemed to clench up. He didn’t need to hear what Ocellus was about to say. He’d heard it once before.
Prince Pharynx wasn’t afraid. That was an impossibility. He was the hive’s shield. Its most ferocious protector. Fear didn’t factor into things like that. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow it.
Not again. Never again.
“Maybe.”
Ocellus’ head snapped back, eyes wide and full of shock.
Did he just say…?
Pharynx’s head was down, and his eyes were focused on something far away.
“It’s how she made me…” he said, and then fell silent.
The tiny clock on the mantel chimed the half hour. It quietly sounded the melody to a song Pinkie Pie had composed for it, as a home-warming present. Ocellus had removed the firework launcher after the first week, for safety.
Pharynx said nothing. Nothing out loud. He simply stared into the cold, empty fireplace. Staring at nothing that could fit in such a space.
Ocellus breathed in, slowly.
“For what it’s worth,” she said, silently hoping Pharynx would look back at her, “I am proud of you. For thinking outside the Hive, for once.”
He blinked, and glanced back at the other changeling. The ghost of a smile touched his lips, but his eyes soon returned to the fireplace.
“They liked the idea,” he whispered. “Sure, took us another hour of arguing the ethics. But once they understood how the spell worked with changeling biology, the Princess and her jester came around.
“And that’s when things got weird…”
He never thought he’d be standing here, in front of her again. Pharynx had always assumed, once Chrysalis was out of the picture, that he’d go on to help run the Hive for the rest of his life. Lead his Guardlings. Write a book on tactics, or maybe changeling history (assuming they could reconstruct more of it from the burnt ruins left in the ex-Queen’s vault).
He even considered, for a time, settling down. Having grubs. A family.
Sure, that plan turned into a flaming garbage fire of his own making, but it was the thought that counted.
Pharynx thought he’d be lying on his deathbed, old and toothless, and still happy to let Chrysalis stay frozen in stone, put out for the pigeons’ nefarious devices.
And now, he was standing in the center of Canterlot Castle’s throne room, staring up at her snarling face once more. The other two members of the ‘Terrible Trio’ were long since removed from the statue base. Cozy Glow was apparently living in Ponyville again, beneath the watchful eye of an insane Chaos God and his brood – though Pharynx wasn’t too shaken up by that news, since he actually kinda liked Discord, the odd scamp – and Tirek was currently cooling his hooves in the Chimera Kingdom’s jail cells, somewhere across the sea.
“Alright,” was all he said. He didn’t have anything to say to the monster before him that couldn’t be said after the spell was cast. And at least then, he wouldn’t be dealing with an audience.
There was a literal mob of guards in the room, both Equestrian and changeling. They watched every door in or out like hawks, and were even now scanning and re-scanning every nook and cranny for some sign of tomfoolery. Even the spiderwebs were being searched for contraband.
And besides the guards, almost a dozen changelings trained in magic were awaiting Pharynx’s command to begin.
Or, well, theoretically waiting on his command. At the moment, half of them were more interested in the complementary hot chocolate smore drinks sent up by the kitchen staff on Pinkie Pie’s orders, and the other half were admiring the unicorn spellcasters as they raised a series of magical barriers across the room’s windows.
Luckily, Pharynx wouldn’t have to wait for long to get this all over with. The main doors swung inward, and allowed the final members of the day’s proceedings to enter.
Four members, to be precise.
Princess Twilight took up the middle of her little procession, wings outstretched and mane waving in an unseen breeze. The sight was impressive, seeing an alicorn princess stride through the hall, and so Pharynx had to hold himself steady as his knees reflexively tried to kneel out from under him.
The fact that a few of his changelings and more than a couple pony guards looked to be doing the same made him feel a little less self-conscious about it.
Pharynx had been expecting Celeste Lulamoon, of course. Having an expert on magic nearby would make the ritual go much more smoothly. It was the other two mares who caught the prince off-guard.
The first was a bright pink filly with a golden mane and tail. Pharynx had files on all of Twilight’s personal students, and Luster Dawn’s had warranted a lot more study than others. One, because she was Twilight’s protégé, and held some sort of position in the Court, much like Twilight had once done alongside Celestia.
And two? She was Starlight Glimmer’s kid. Friend and Liberator of the changelings though she might be, any spawn of Starlight “Laws of Time and Space What’re Those” Glimmer deserved careful scrutiny.
But Pharynx really hadn’t ever expected to see... her again. The fourth member of the Princess’ group. An alicorn the same height as Princess Cadance, and looking for all the world like a slightly shorter Twilight Sparkle, were it not for the electric blue-green stripe in her hair, her turquoise cutie mark, and her darker coat colors.
“You again?” he sighed. Pharynx was sure he wasn’t following decorum, but inviting that creature here…
Midnight Sparkle, one of Princess Twilight’s weird human duplicates from across the Mirror to the human world, grinned maliciously.
“Hey, Frank,” she giggled. “How’s tricks?”
“Pharynx,” he corrected, holding back a snarl as best as he could. He turned towards the Princess and tilted his ears forward.
She rolled her eyes at the display. “Midnight’s here because she’s probably the best expert on magic in two universes, and because Starlight declined.”
Pharynx’s eye twitched.
“Where’s your better half?” he asked.
“On vacation with Timber and the kids,” she said, eyes drifting up to the sight of the frozen changeling ex-Queen. “I don’t get hiking, but supposedly she’s doing some astronomy study out there, so…”
“And Starlight declined?” Pharynx shifted immediately from the otherworldly creature who annoyed him the most in their past interactions, to the tiny pink creature half-cowering in front of him. “What’s that about?”
Luster swallowed, hard. “Uh… M-mom said that she’s got a lot of backstory with your M—”
A cough from Twilight caused the filly to glance up at her teacher. With an almost imperceptible twitch of her eyebrow, the Princess seemed to convey an entire lecture to the young unicorn.
“I mean, your ex-Queen,” Luster corrected herself. “Mom… uh, mine, not your-- oh, um...”
Luster held her breath for several long seconds, till Pharynx started to think she was about to pass out.
Then, she said in a single, gasping sprint, “Mom said Chrysalis hates her so I should be here in case it causes a problem!
“Phew!” she laughed, and gave a wide smile. “Nailed it!”
Pharynx swiveled his head from side to side, taking in the four again.
“So…” he said with a snort, “… a Princess, a child, a nutcase…”
Celeste glared at that one.
“… and the single most annoying creature in this or any other dimension,” he finished with another glare at Midnight, who was already hip deep in his changeling mages, analyzing the statue like it was the scientific find of the century.
“Pharynx,” Princess Twilight sighed, “I know you wanted Starlight here for the spell, but these three are the very best of the best at my disposal.”
He stamped his hooves, and looked up at Twilight with as petulant a pout as he could manage.
“I don’t want anything going wrong,” he whispered. “Celeste is acceptable. Luster is unproven… but Starlight’s earned my trust to some degree, so fine.”
He swept one hoof in Midnight’s direction. “But that creature is a menace!”
“For getting your name wrong?” Luster asked, brows furrowed.
“Twenty years ago?” Celeste added with a smirk.
“She did other stuff!”
Midnight, overhearing the conversation, laughed. “Yeah, I did!”
Twilight shook her head, and glared down at Pharynx. “She’s staying. That’s the end of it.”
“Fine!” Pharynx groused. “But if Chrysalis ends up teleported to the moon because of her, I…”
He paused.
“Actually,” he said with a smirk, “if that happens, maybe I can forgive her for the other stuff…”
She’d slipped into silence again. It happened, from time to time. Minute to minute. Decade to decade. Time was that thing that happened to other creatures, after all. She’d remained in stone while the years passed before her very eyes.
At first, she’d hated it. The cold. The stiffness. But, in time, she almost grew to tolerate it.
Queen Chrysalis had spent the first year arguing with her stone-mates. What a productive time that was! Calling Tirek stupid for not draining that awful mare Starlight Glimmer’s magic while they’d had her imprisoned. Taunting Cozy with her now permanently diminutive size.
Sure, sleep wasn’t a thing anymore. Neither were dreams. But that was fun enough.
And then boredom set in. Well, not true boredom. That would come later. For a while, the three of them were put out in the gardens, where birds would sing and the sun and moon would slowly rush by. It was something to watch, while Tirek and Cozy played chess in their shared mental space, or while Chrysalis screamed out the name of the pony who’d taken everything from her.
Yes. Starlight Glimmer. Oh, how she’d spent years remembering to hate her. Even the Usurper didn’t occupy as much of Chrysalis’ thoughts and attention as that creature did. The one who’d turned her kind against her, who made them forget their Queen.
Then, they were boxed up. One doesn’t know true boredom until one has been wheeled into a storage bin inside of a deep, dark cavern beneath the earth and left to rot.
Crumble, she supposed.
And still, the bickering and the arguing went on. Not completely, not entirely. But it was the most fun and productive part of her life by that point.
Otherwise, she’d have to talk to the other two. Or, worse… remember.
The remembering was the worst of it. There were good memories, of course. Like sitting on her mother’s lap, and listening to old Queen Caprecilia talk about the changelings’ glorious past. Of their time as masters of the world before ponies ruined it all. She could remember a few good times with the fathers of her children, as disappointing as they all inevitably became.
She remembered standing above a defeated Celestia. She remembered draining Thorax’s love from his body.
But more than that… and she remembered everything else.
Best not to.
Never again.
Once in a while, she’d wonder whatever happened to her wooden logs. She hoped they were eating well.
By Gaea’s twigs! she would think sometimes. I’m going as mad as Tirek.
“I can hear you,” he’d respond.
And the bickering would return. Sweet, blissful, anti-friendship bickering.
And then, one day, they were let out of storage, and set back down in the garden. And there were colts and fillies. And at least one nymph. A griffon. Many creatures, inhabiting the new world Queen Twibright had…
No, wait. Twilight. That was her name, yes. Chrysalis…
Wait, Chrysalis was correct, wasn’t it?
Who the buck was Starlight Glimmer?
Ah, the one we hate, yes.
But this day. This one day amidst the thousands she’d stood there, something changed.
Cozy Glow was broken off at the stem, and returned to flesh. That part was… well, infuriating, of course.
But also sad.
Sad I don’t get to torment her anymore, she told herself. Maybe she even believed it.
It was hard to hate someone who’d been with you for twenty years.
And then… she and Tirek got to watch the little monster get her comeuppance. Deposited into the throne room by magic, Chrysalis got to watch Discord’s brat slap some sense into Cozy. Over and over again. And again. And again.
There was laughter, tears, anger, forgiveness…
That last one was a bit of a downer for the Queen, but you couldn’t have everything.
But then, barely a day later, Tirek was gone too. A spell was cast, and he was free. And then another spell was cast, and his power was stripped from him. A ‘Celeste Original’, they called it, whatever that meant.
Withered, though he was, Tirek at least had the decency to turn around, and look at Chrysalis.
What had he said? It was so soon ago that Chrysalis couldn’t even remember.
He almost looked sad.
Preposterous! We were allies, certainly, but no more than that! If anything, he was sad that his brother’s people were there to arrest him. That was it. Yes.
No other reason.
The ponies and their Friendship nonsense…
She scoffed, and wondered how she could let herself dwell on such unimportant chicanery.
When I eventually get out of here, there will be no mercy for them. No room in this world for their vaunted friendships. Once I am Queen again, my kind will be able to show me their love once more, no longer confused by Thorax’s lies.
They will be mine again. I know it.
And then, she sat in the silence. She wondered if time would mercifully blur, at this point. She was tired of living through it.
And then, the changelings entered the chamber.
Queen Chrysalis hit the ground with a heavy, reverberating sound. It was like a thunderclap, the way it rolled out over the sea of changeling mages and guards. It even ruffled the manes of the four ponies who’d cast the spell that even now slowly disintegrated the stone from her back.
The tinkling sound of falling pebbles sounded next, as the stone sloughed off Chrysalis’ form. Her wings hung limp at her side, her head cast down.
Her chest muscles contracted with the sound of dry wood bending, and she took her first breath of fresh air in a generation.
And then, she sprang into action!
“FREEDOMISMINE!!!” she cried, and threw all her might behind her back legs. She shot forth like a bullet, straight at the blurry mare with the blue-green stripe in her mane.
The entire court flinched.
Not at her violent assault, of course.
It was the sound she made as the former queen slapped into the magically reinforced safety glass dome that had been teleported on top of her while the de-Stoning spell was prepped. It was like when you hit a glass fishbowl and listened to the dull bang it made.
The glassy sliding noise that followed as she slowly sank back to the floor was equally wince-inducing to the audience.
Chrysalis shook her head, and tried to stand… only to stumble, and collapse once more.
So… empty.
There was almost nothing left of her magic stores. The Love she’d carefully harvested in the wild and rationed for herself was nearly gone as well. As a statue, she hadn’t gathered more, as she’d hoped.
And right now, her head was swimming.
So much so, that she could only listen to the strange talk going on around her.
“See? I told you that safety glass would come in handy! A Sparkle Laboratories original!”
“Yes, yes. You were right. You don’t need to pitch it again.”
“Uh, is she okay? She seems a little out of it.”
“What is that stuff made out of?”
“Oh? You want to buy some for the hive?”
“You made it, didn’t you? How do I know this stuff won’t turn us into hairless apes again?”
“I said I was sorry about that! Geez! You’re as bad as Aria…”
“You…” Chrysalis snarled, and pulled herself into a sitting position. “… you have… some nerve…”
The blurriness of the world began to pull together, and crystalize. Chrysalis blinked a few times, just in case not blinking for twenty years was the reason this was happening, and was rewarded with even faster eyesight restoration.
“Chrysalis? Can you hear me?” the voice of Twilight Sparkle asked. Just hearing that whiny little pony once more with her physical ears caused the chiton on Chrysalis’ neck to itch.
“You…” she swallowed. “You will address me as Queen Chrysalis, worm!”
There was a deep, familiar snort nearby. “Yeah, this is what I figured…”
“Who is there!?” Chrysalis shouted, and swiped one hoof forward. It cracked against some sort of invisible forcefield, just a few feet away. Must have been the magical barrier she’d collided with. “Show yourself!”
The world came back into crystal clarity, minus for the small distortion caused by the field. An image of dozens of ponies solidified first, all clad in the gold and purple of the Equestrian Guard. And mixed amongst them, Chrysalis could see those jelly-bean-colored traitors, her deluded and mistaken children.
There was something hauntingly familiar about the way her changelings were arrayed around her. But something else snatched her attention away first.
“YOU!” she cried, and reared up on her hind legs. She began beating away at the dome, impotent fury flowing from her like a dam breaking.
“STARLIGHT GLIMMER!!!”
Starlight Glimmer… an alicorn? HOW DARE SHE!?
Despite Chrysalis’ obvious display of wrath and power, Starlight didn’t seem all that impressed. She watched the changeling Queen claw and bite at the invisible barrier between them like somecreature watching a foal try to walk for the first time.
“Uh, sorry?” she said, one eyebrow raised. “Got the wrong pony here.”
Chrysalis yielded to the invisible barrier, but kept up on her hind legs, wings splayed out at her sides in a show of dominance. She peered at the… at the darkly colored alicorn, and realized her mistake.
“One of your spawn, Sparkle?” she sneered.
The smaller Twilight shook her head, and glanced down at the changeling to her left.
“She’s a bit… out of it, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he replied. If Chrysalis didn’t know any better, she’d have sworn she recognized the voice.
But it can’t be him.
She shook her own head, and fell back to all fours.
It could never be him. My one and only…
“Ex-Queen Chrysalis.”
The ‘Ex’ caused her hackles to raise. Chrysalis wheeled about, and refocused on the largest alicorn she’d ever seen.
“What do you want, Sparkle?” she asked, and gave a mocking chuckle. “Do you want me to beg for my life? Do you want me to say I believe in your virtues of friendship now!?”
Twilight Sparkle, acting as regally and as self-important as any pony could, nodded slowly.
“Would it surprise you to know that I’d like to believe you?” she said, quietly.
Chrysalis did not give her a chance to continue. Instead, she spun about, and snaked her cat-slitted eyes across the faces of her changelings. The ones arrayed around her invisible prison flinched as her eyes met theirs, and the obvious signs of their submission to her will was almost as delicious as Love itself.
“My subjects!” she cried. “Bow before your Queen! It was I who protected and nurtured you in the lean times! I who have led our people to greatness! Remember who you are! Remember your pride! I was as a Mother to you all!”
The assembled ponies and changelings gasped, and held their breaths. The changelings, in particular, nearly wailed aloud as she turned her brilliant smile upon them.
Surely, she thought, they can now see how they have been misled? With my brilliance on display, they cannot hope but to stand with their true Queen!!!
Shaking, and shivering, the changelings still stood firm… and turned their eyes over to the darker-shelled male amongst them.
One of them opened her mouth, and said...
Ocellus snorted.
“Wait… Coccyx said… that?”
“Eyup,” Pharynx said, scratching at his nose with one hoof. “Or, something close to it. Can’t remember the whole thing…”
“‘You never loved us, you were never a mother, and we hate what you turned us into’?” Ocellus repeated, eyes wide at hearing her fellow ‘lings rebuffing their collective nightmare so… forcefully.
Pharynx’s mouth was a thin line.
“Eyup…” he said.
“Wow,” Ocellus stared at her hooves. “I’d… have expected him to just shake a little bit and ask to get started. Or for a potty break. He’s always been so non-confrontational…”
Pharynx nodded, but kept staring into the fireplace, all the same.
“Eyup,” he said quietly. “Never mess with changelings. We’re… tougher than we look…”
“P-Pharynx?” a lilac-colored changeling asked, voice quivering. “C-can we cast it yet? Or maybe take a break? S-she’s being weird.”
Chrysalis’ jaw dropped.
“WEIRD!?” she snarled, and beat the side of the barrier again. “Weird? How dare you speak to your Queen thusly!?”
“That’s the best you could say!?” the darker changeling snarled. “You’ve got her right here, and… she’s helpless! You could say anything you want to her! How she used us! How she abused her rank and title! How she was a terrible mother to everyling, and—!”
He bit down on his tongue, and started fuming impotently on the spot. Twilight Sparkle patted him softly on the back, but it seemed like it might take him a moment to calm down.
Several other changelings around the room had started taking slow, shaking steps backward during the exchange, eyes upcast at the towering malevolence of their Queen. But, with every step back, a pony would step forward. Hooves on the marble stone floor. Hooves at the changelings’ sides, and withers. A friendly smile, or a nod to follow.
The changelings firmed up their perimeter around the condemned, backed by a line of ponies. Even if the enraged leader didn’t seem to notice, Chrysalis did.
The… respect for her was falling away. That’s how she saw it.
The Equestrians are poisoning them still, with their Friendship.
That dark-cyan changeling? His rage was palpable. It was pure, and resounding at the lack of backbone in his people.
Chrysalis’ rage, however, could not be described in any of the tongues of equines. She lashed out with a roar, and a blast of acidic green magic. It scythed across the face of the dome around her, but left almost no trace of damage.
It did, however, leave the particular changeling who’d spoken up before as a shivering mess on the floor. As a replacement was brought up, Chrysalis turned her gaze back towards the one who’d truly upset her today.
“Well? Sparkle!?” she sneered. “Get on with it then! If my changelings are so… pathetic after all this time, then perhaps it is time the last real changeling left this world!”
Twilight Sparkle met Chrysalis’ glare with… something. Perhaps it was the decades in stone affecting her, or it was her weakened state, but she couldn’t quite pin down what that look the Princess gave her meant.
It couldn’t possibly be pity, could it?
If it was… Chrysalis wanted nothing more than to tear her eyes out.
“Chrysalis,” Twilight repeated. “As your terms of imprisonment were found to be cruel and unusual, the form of punishment both unfitting of the crimes you committed, and unworthy of the creatures who held you there… I, Twilight Sparkle, Ruling Princess of Equestria and Living Concordant of Friendship, do hereby declare your sentence commuted to supervised parole.
“With conditions,” she added. A piece of parchment, softly glowing purple in her magic aura, drifted up to her face. “You will be stripped of your changeling magic, and placed into the care and custody of a trusted member of the community of Ponyville. You will be taught the value and values of Friendship. You will practice these values, and follow any other instructions given to you by your appointed Caretaker and Parole Officer, or any other authority figure placed over you.
“I also expect,” she said with a smile, “a weekly report on your progress. A… letter, if you will.”
Chrysalis blinked. She looked to her left and right, and then back at the Princess. And she blinked a few more times.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, deadpan. “Is… is this the part where Discord pops out of something and drops another cake on my head?”
“Do you understand the terms of your parole?” Twilight asked, in an equally serious tone.
The former queen of the changelings threw her head back and let loose a peel of laughter.
“Do I understand!?” she laughed. Chrysalis threw her head back again, and continued to snort and guffaw. The audacity of this little… formerly little pony was unmatched!
The crown on this creature! The sheer gall of it!
“Chrysalis, do you…?”
“Of course, I understand!” Chrysalis snapped, the laughter draining from her venomous gaze. “But what you fail to understand is that I will not bow to this… this farcical court! You cannot judge me! I am a Queen! A sovereign entity! And I will not—”
“Your understanding has been noted,” Twilight interrupted. “Your acquiescence would have been preferred, but that’s enough of that.”
She turned to look down at the changeling apparently leading this circus act, and gave an impressively imperious nod.
“Pharynx, you may begin.”
Pharynx.
Chrysalis’s glare froze. Her very blood chilled at the sound of that name.
A different Pharynx, she thought. It must be.
She searched the face of this… this changeling prince. The curve of his horn. The slope of his brow. Even the way his fangs peeked out from his lips when he spoke.
Was it him?
Thorax looked different as well, after…
Pharynx smirked, and threw an arched brow over to his mages.
“Changelings?” His command was followed by a series of snaps and clicks as the changelings surrounding Chrysalis fell into a military salute.
The lead changeling swept his purple eyes across all twelve of his mages, before giving them a nod.
“Cast the Restoration Spell.”
Chrysalis could feel the emotions in the air. Any changeling could, with practice. Before now, she’d felt their fear. The ponies’ hatred of her was overpowering, like a heavy blanket smothering all else around them.
She couldn’t even feel the Love of her changelings for her, it was so strong.
At least, that’s what she’d thought.
But now, a sort of relieved sigh went up from the whole room. Imperceptible, unless you knew how.
The hate and fear were still present… mostly. But now? With that one command, it began to fall away, to melt into something else.
And at last, Chrysalis realized it was not the ponies whose hate and fear she could taste.
But… Restoration Spell?
The words rang in her mind, rattling about her as the changelings built an azure light in each of their horns. She was surrounded by glowing blue flames, magical markers like those on a clock face, and yet she couldn’t focus on any one of them.
Pharynx… and the Restoration Spell. Perhaps… just perhaps, was I…?
No.
No, of course not! She was Queen Chrysalis! Daughter of Caprecilia! Heir to the legacy of the Changeling Deers!
I MAKE NO MISTAKES!!!
“Ha,” a weakened laugh escaped her lips. She laughed again. “Ha! Ha ha ha...!”
And again. And again, as the light bloomed brighter, the spell building in its intensity.
“Ha ha!” she cried out, and jabbed one hoof towards the… towards her… towards Pharynx. “I understand now! Well done, my faithful scout!”
Pharynx continued to glare at his Queen. It was a rather good pretense, but a pretense nonetheless.
“You foals!” Chrysalis laughed again. “You utter foals! The Restoration Spell was how I led my people to glory for so long! You think this is a punishment!?”
She laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more, not noticing the way the ponies stared at her. Why bother? The predator did not concern herself with the opinions of her prey!
And he’s done it for me! For his mother! My Restoration is at hoof!!!
It was then, at the moment of madness’ crescendo, that a singular worry appeared. It was a small thing, at first, utterly drowned out by the euphoria of total and complete victory being handed to her on a silver plate. Really, it wasn’t even a worry.
It was… a math problem.
Namely, just how many mages were charging this spell?
And then, as the magic fired, and her whole world was consumed in light… Chrysalis realized what the problem was.
“It was a gift,” Pharynx finished explaining his plan. The office was almost silent, save for the ticking of clocks. “It costs so much magic, and so much Love, that only one ‘ling in a generation could be granted the Rite of Restoration. A changeling who had risen above and beyond the call of duty. A changeling who championed our ideals to a degree that none could match. Even now, with all the Love we have… it would probably take a decade to recover what we’d lose in casting it.
“But for over a thousand years,” he said with a cold hiss, “it was just Chrysalis’ tool for staying in power.”
“That’s…” Celeste could hardly find the words. Her mouth worked, and worked, but no sound came out. She couldn’t quite articulate what she was feeling, it seemed.
Neither could Twilight Sparkle, who sank down into her seat back in her office. The clocks ticked away the seconds, one after another. And, perhaps for the first time, she felt like she was hearing each second pass ponderously from the future, to the past.
From potential, to ending.
Life to death.
“Eternal youth?” she said at last, in a quiet whisper.
Pharynx nodded.
“A drone will, barring accidents and assuming they take care of themselves, live about as long as an earth pony, or maybe half again as long.” He chuckled, and pointed at himself. “Even Ocellus and the ‘Brain bugs’ back home who research all this stuff for us don’t know how much longer a Royal can live. But it isn’t forever.
“Chrysalis reigned over us for over a thousandyears,” he added with emphasis in his tone. “And it was because of the Restoration spell.”
Celeste shook her head, and gasped. “That’s ridiculous! Age spells are almost completely useless for living longer, so how…?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Pharynx said with a roll of his eyes, “if it doesn’t work for unicorns, it can’t work, right?”
“That’s not…!”
A large purple wing snapped open in front of Celeste’s face, cutting her reply off there.
“Please, Pharynx,” Twilight said in a strangely calm voice, “continue.”
He stared at her for a moment. Her eyes were… somewhat boring into him, at the moment. It was rather unnerving.
Then again, you’ve got five less-than-immortal friends, he thought. Must be something you’ve thought of.
“Changeling biology,” he gave as an answer. “Ponies are, like… these bundled up knots of fate and destiny magic. You’re all about being expressions of your true, inner self. Right? I thought that was how Ocellus described it.”
Twilight nodded, but said nothing. Celeste, despite the way she was glaring across the table, was also taking down notes with a quill and parchment trapped in her magic aura.
Pharynx continued. “So, transformation magic is really tough for you. Age spells need concentration. Species-swapping needs a model to work even partway. And from what I know, switching gender is almost impossible because of how complicated your internal systems work.
“Changelings find change really easy,” he said with a short, dark chuckle. “We’re almost designed to do it. But even then, we always go back to our base form.”
Celeste hummed, and tugged at a loose lock of mane. “I sense a but incoming…”
Pharynx nodded. “Throw enough magic and Love at the problem, and you can fix that. Age spells, given enough juice, will eventually stick. The Restoration Spell is… really just a big age spell.
“Chrysalis would always get the lion’s share of any Love the Hive collected,” he continued, gesturing at unseen forms with his hooves. “And she’d spend the bulk of it on a couple of trained changeling mages to take a few decades off every so often.”
Twilight frowned, and pursed her lips.
“And…” she said, slowly, one eyebrow rising in confusion. “…you want to use it on her again?”
“Sort of,” Pharynx whispered, his voice suddenly unsure. “I helped her cast it the last time she needed it. But while she ‘explained’ how it worked to us, I could tell she was holding something back.”
“Which was?” asked the Princess.
“That you could increase the number of casters, and the amount of Love used by the spell,” he said. Pharynx folded his forelegs across his barrel, and sighed. “Get enough of either, and you could be whatever age you wanted. Like I said; it was supposed to be a gift. Just one more thing she ruined…”
“Again…” Celeste leaned across the table, almost falling into Twilight’s lap, and asked, “Why would you want to use it again?”
Pharynx fidgeted in his seat a bit. He looked like he was… sea sick, or something. Or like somecreature was pulling a tooth out of him.
“Changelings can’t use their magic until they reach a certain age,” he finally said. “If we made Chrysalis young enough… she wouldn’t have any magic. None at all.”
“And there won’t be… any other changes?” Twilight asked, her own curiosity peeking through. “Age spells cast by unicorns have… side effects.”
“Memory loss, personality changes…” Celeste began counting off.
Pharynx cut her off with a shake of his head.
“Our biology is practically designed for this stuff. At worst… she’ll have the emotional control of someling her age. Something to do with the glands, or brain development…”
A frown cut deep across his brow.
“Ocellus could have explained it better… but no matter.” He looked back up to the Princess with a gleam in his eye. “It will still be her. Chrysalis, I mean. Just… smaller.”
The Princess glanced at her magical advisor. Celeste glanced back.
There was that look again. Curious, cautious… but curious all the same.
“Alright,” Twilight said as she readied her pen and parchment once more. “From the top. How precisely will this work…?”
“Wow,” Ocellus sighed. She stared at her hooves, and said, “You… really trusted them.”
Pharynx nodded, but said nothing.
“And… they understand it can only work on changelings?” asked Ocellus. “I know the idea of that spell could be trouble if ponies don’t realize what it costs in Love and magic.”
Again, he nodded. “Eyup.”
“She can’t be more than… what? Five?”
“Seven,” Pharynx corrected.
“Seven,” Ocellus repeated, awed by the arcane wonder standing just outside her door. She silently wished she’d had tea in the house. Or some milk and sugar on hoof. She really needed a drink, right now. Or at least something to do with her hooves. “But over a thousand on the inside…”
The changelings sat in continued silence. Neither could look directly at the other, and neither wanted to look over to the front door, through which the guards were currently watching the prisoner.
“Well…” Ocellus sighed again, though this time with a certain level of contentment behind it. “Can’t say this wasn’t exciting!”
Pharynx raised an eyebrow at her sudden chipper attitude.
She turned towards him, and gave the fakest smile she’d ever shown anycreature.
“We should do this again, sometime,” she said, teeth bared. She leapt to the air, and her wings buzzed to life. “But, I gotta get back to school and take back my classroom. Knowing Smolder, she probably got Sweetie Belle or Apple Bloom to cover for me so far, but I should really…”
“Ocellus,” Pharynx said in a slow, warning tone. “Do you know why I’m here?”
Sweat glistened off Ocellus’ bright blue carapace.
“No?” she asked, hopefully, through her straining smile.
“I think you do.”
Ocellus remained airborne for another moment… and then came crashing down to her cushioned seat again.
“Gah!” she snorted, angrily. “Come on! WHY!?”
“Lus…”
“No, really!” Ocellus cried out, forelimbs slapping the sides of her chair as she panicked and hollered. “You know what my… I mean, I told you when we first started… I…”
Without a word, Pharynx stood up from his seat. In only a few strides, he was already across the floor, and came right up to Ocellus.
The bright blue changeling’s eyes were focused somewhere else, and somewhen else. Likely that crystal cave beneath the school she’d told Pharynx about once. The roots of the Tree of Harmony itself. Likely, every memory of that place was playing all at once in her head.
Including the memory of being Chrysalis.
Pharynx didn’t think much about things like that. Fear was fear. He only knew two ways to get past it. Hit it, or run from it. And watching Ocellus melt down in front of him… he seemed to know which way was needed now.
“I… I can’t be her caretaker!” Ocellus screamed, her voice becoming shrill. “She’s a… and I’m not a… but I…”
Her heart rate, previously pounding in her ears… slowed. A pair of long, warm, chitinous limbs found their way around her shoulders. They wrapped around her back, and their combined warmth started to seep through her own hardened exterior.
A blush formed on her cheeks, as she realized what was happening.
Pharynx’s hugs were pretty awesome. Just as good as she remembered them being.
“Hey,” he whispered, mouth next to her ear, “it’s okay. It’s all okay, Ocellus. I… I won’t make you do it, if you don’t want to.”
Ocellus felt her heart rate plummeting, and her breathing falling back under her control. She couldn’t quite get her hooves up to wipe her eyes of the little tears that had formed… but she also didn’t feel a pressing need to break the hug, just yet.
“Why, though?” she asked. “Why me?”
“Because I…” Pharynx swallowed. “… because I knew you were the absolute best changeling for the job…”
“ABSOLUTELY BUCKING NOT!” Pharynx screamed.
The Princess’ face didn’t budge an inch.
“Pharynx, she’s your own Ambassador of Friendship, a Bearer of the Elements, and one of the most decorated and celebrated models of friendship in all of Equestria! She’s perfect for being Chrysalis’ caretaker!”
“I said no!” Pharynx snarled. “I’m not letting that monster come within a hundred miles of Ocellus! I’ve done enough to her without letting a sociopath loose in her house!”
“Pretty sure you lost your Protective Boyfriend rights a while ago…”
Twilight’s eyes flickered to one side. “Celeste, enough,” she said with a flash of iron in her voice.
Pharynx slammed a hoof down onto the table.
“No means no!” he cried. “You’ll just have to add someling else to your shortlist! You cannot make Ocellus do this!”
Twilight sighed, but never broke eye contact with the snarling, angry, bordering-on-crying Prince.
The sight disturbed her. Not that it wasn’t gratifying to know the stone-faced changeling could cry. But it was always Thorax who seemed to teeter on the edge of emotional duress. Pharynx was the tougher one of the pair, much like Princess Luna was always the stern, take-charge member of the Royal Sisters back in the day.
Seeing somecreature so strong in this way, and hearing his voice nearly crack… was hard to bear.
“Pharynx,” she said, sofly. “You know she’ll do it, if we ask her. She’s the best, in this situation. She’s a fully friendship-trained teacher, and a changeling. Ocellus can watch over Chrysalis and monitor her progress - as well as any side effects that might pop up from this Restoration spell - better than anycreature.
“And…” Twilight reached one hoof across her table, and set it onto Pharynx’s shoulder. “Helping others is what she loves. She’s Chrysalis’ best hope for a better future. Can you trust in her?”
Pharynx stared at the hoof touching him. His eyes winced, and it was clear from the way he shivered that he didn’t want to be here any longer. There was something about that hoof that almost… frightened him.
He let out a frustrated snort, and looked away.
“I know she’s the best,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I know she… has to do this. I could have told you that already. I could tell you that in my sleep.”
Celeste frowned. “Then why…?”
“Because it’s…”
He gritted his teeth.
“... it’s my mother. And I know just how awful that will be for her.”
He let out his breath in a single long shuddering gasp. The prince shook his head, and seemed to settle down into his seat.
But, as Twilight prepared to speak again… his eyes came to life. The changeling prince sat up in his seat, and a look of… rage? Pride? Whatever thoughts were going through his mind, and his heart, there was something driving him onward.
He met the Princess’ gaze with a glare. A glare filled with a lifetime of hurt and regret.
And this time, she blinked first.
“Okay… you can have her for this. But on one condition…”
“You?”
“Me.”
“You…?”
Pharynx blinked.
“Um, yes. Me.”
Ocellus’s brow knitted together, and her lips pursed.
“... You?”
“I’m feeling attacked here…”
Ocellus snorted with laughter.
“I-I’m sorry!” she chuckled. “I just… I just didn’t think you’d try something like this! YOU are the new Captain of Ponyville’s Guard!?”
Pharynx’s head lowered, and an unamused frown covered his face.
“You don’t have to say it like that, you know?” he pouted.
“You realize you’ll be surrounded by other creatures, right?” Ocellus laughed again, but softer. Kinder. “You’ll be in charge of pony and dragon guards. And you’ll have to deal with ponies and yaks and hippogriffs who live here, right?”
“And changelings!” Pharynx protested, but without much force behind his words.
Ocellus smiled.
“And… you did it to protect me?”
A red hot blush formed on Pharynx’s cheeks. He turned around, and focused on the front door, beyond which still lay their prisoner.
“Maybe.”
Ocellus smiled, but it was a faint smile. She loved the way Pharynx could act so tough, sometimes. It really hid the warm, soft cuddlebug underneath. She wished, many a time, that she could have pulled that inner ‘ling out and showed him around.
He really was a softie, she thought. But… it was the tough bug I liked too.
It was both of them. Pharynx has a big heart. Maybe bigger than Thorax’s. He loved all the changelings. He’d do anything for them. Anything to protect them.
To protect her...
Her smile faded. It faded away, and vanished.
But Changelings First was also what he said. What he felt. He might love… others, but…
Ocellus slowly pushed herself away from Pharynx, who released his hug every bit as slowly as she did.
I can’t. Not with him. Not while he’s the way he is.
“I’ll have to move my schedule around,” she said, looking away from him, towards the kitchen. Her monthly calendar was practically dripping with ink from modifications already.
“I know,” Pharynx said with a nod. “I can help with that.”
Ocellus nodded as well. “You’ll need a room. Heck, she’ll need a room,” she said, her mind now virtually running through the free spaces on the second floor, and trying to visualize which one they could lose. “We have one spare, but…”
“That’s fine,” he said, tilting his head to one side. “Though, I think I’ll find a room somewhere nearby. Best you keep an eye on her, right?”
A laugh escaped Ocellus’ mouth, but she quickly clamped down on the rebel giggle. Her eyes snapped back to Pharynx’s.
I promised I wouldn’t think about it again.
“This isn’t what you think it is,” she said, and quite firmly. “I will help you, for the sake of our Hive, and so that Chrysalis will have a real chance at being better…
“But we are not together,” she finished. “Am I clear?”
Pharynx didn’t say anything at first.
“Pharynx,” she repeated, “are we clear?”
This is why I didn’t want to think about it.
We’re changelings.
I can taste the heartbreak on him even now. He wants to change…
But I don’t think he can.
Finally, Pharynx blinked.
“We’re clear,” he said, softly. “Understood.”
Chrysalis did not walk into Ocellus’ home so much as she trudged through the open door. And what she saw inside the disgustingly bright-yellow house appalled her more than any prison could have.
It was so… soft. Even the wood floor in the antechamber – the porch, they called it – seemed gentle. The front room of the house was more carpet than house! And everything was covered with pillows, or had pictures and photos covering them!
It made her sick. It was this sort of softness that made the other races weak.
Living in caves, on rocks and broken glass, now that was how one became strong!
The guard finally allowed her to take off the ridiculous, obnoxiously bright yellow safety vest she’d been forced to wear on the chariot ride down from Canterlot.
She briefly chided herself. At least, mentally.
I’m the most obnoxiously bright thing here now…
Chrysalis glared out at the world from her rather shortened vantage point. She barely reached anypony’s kneecaps at this height, and she’d been left in front of a mirror long enough to know this was no ordinary implementation of the Restoration Spell.
Her shell was… green. And not the beautiful, acidic green of her former magic. No! It was pistachio, with an arctic blue band around her barrel, and a sapphire blue carapace over her wings.
Wings she could hardly use, for how small they were. And that didn’t even touch upon her mane! Or her tail! Both were now some… horrid shade of orange!
I have become Jelly-bean, she thought glumly. Bringer of eye-strain.
Whatever additions Twilight and her disgusting friends had added to the spell, it had forced her to change. Forced her to become this… ‘reformed’ changeling.
Even my eyes are different. That one hurt the most, losing her irises. She’d noticed the trend, as the centuries had gone by, as generation after generation came and went. It never really affected her, of course. It had marked her as something special. The last changeling to retain full eyes.
And why do I have these ridiculous gems on my chest now!?
While Chrysalis stewed on the magical changes wrought upon her, her guard began the official hoof-off. He set the vest and its leash on a hook by the door, and quickly hoofed over a set of large silver hoof-rings to her jailers.
“The rings should anchor her, magically, to your presences,” the guard, a changeling himself, intoned in the voice of anyone who’d explained the same set of instructions ten-thousand times would. “Keep the rings on at all times, and you’ll know which direction she is in, and will lead you to your parolee in the event of escape…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pharynx said, quickly, “I already heard this with Celeste, so you can just stop. Set up the perimeter, and get shifts going. I’ll be out in a bit.”
The changeling saluted Pharynx, and immediately backed out of the house.
Thus, alone with her jailers, Chrysalis knew the mind games would begin.
It’s what I would do…
Ocellus took a deep, deep breath, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a brilliant smile came over her features, and she spun about to face the tiny changeling nymph standing in front of her.
“Welcome to our home!” she said with cheer. “I hope that you will come to think of it as your home as well.”
“Not enough spikes,” Chrysalis groaned, and nearly choked as she heard her new, tiny baby voice again. “Also, the walls aren’t shapeshifting.”
Ocellus’ eye twitched.
“Well, be that as it may,” she spoke quickly, recovering a bit of her presented façade of happiness, “this will be your home for a little while. And… I’d like to make you as comfortable here as I can. Your room will be upstairs…”
“My chamber will be wherever I deign it, peasant!” Chrysalis snarled… though with her new voice it came out far less threatening than she’d meant it to.
The older changeling drew her smile back a bit, her lips thinning ever so slightly.
“In this house, we have some rules,” Ocellus said through gritted teeth. “Everycreature does their part, and everycreature makes the others feel welcome. We’ve already got a room for you, and I’ll be happy to show it to you once you’ve seen the rest of the house.”
“Pah!” Chrysalis spat. “Very well. Give us the royal welcome we deserve! A feast! A banquet to welcome your new Queen!”
Ocellus stared at the former queen. A tiny smirk started forming on her lips, but she banished it immediately.
“Okay, you’re incredibly cute for a former dictator,” she admitted with a shrug, “but rudeness will not be allowed here. This is a safe space.”
“Safe space!?” Chrysalis roared like a tame housecat. “This is an outrage! Have you no shame as a changeling!? Or have your brains turned into jelly-candy!?”
While Ocellus’ eye-twitch returned, Pharynx stepped forward. As his shadow passed over her, Chrysalis briefly felt a swell of something in her chest. A sort of tight, vice-like grip around her heart.
I am not afraid of Pharynx, she lied to herself. Just because he’s bigger than me now, and angry… and vengeful… and he blames me for… stuff that wasn’t my fault…
The feeling wasn’t going away. Especially since when he spoke, it was with a timbre and a menace she couldn’t have ever imagined him using against her before.
“I’ve also got some rules,” he growled. The sound was enough to briefly arrest Chrysalis’ attention.
“One!” he began. “If you’re rude to anycreature living in this house, or anycreature not living here, you’re getting put in time-out. Two! You will go when and where you are told to go, and nowhere else. If you try to run away, I will find you. I will catch you. And I will put you in time-out. Three…!”
“Uh, Pharynx?” Ocellus quickly butted in, her magical aura tugging on his ear, and pulling the fearsome changeling towards her like a misbehaving foal himself. “Let’s not traumatize her on day one. You know her emotional control will be like a regular foal now.”
He glared at her a moment, before returning his attention to Chrysalis. The tiny tot was… just sitting there, staring up at him with wide, watery green eyes.
I am not… s-scared of Pharynx, she lied again.
Pharynx’s glare faded, slightly.
“And, anyway,” Ocellus continued, “what’s this about time out? Where would you put her?”
“I dunno,” he said lamely, and shrugged. “There’s a tree outside. Figured I’d stick her in a cocoon and tie her to one of the branches…”
“Bad Pharynx!” Ocellus snapped, and gave his ear another hard tug. “We do not put babies in trees!”
“I-I am not a baby!” Chrysalis squeaked, regaining a modicum of her former composure. “I am your Queen…!”
Ocellus turned her frown back to Chrysalis.
“You,” she said in an icy tone that had the former Queen wishing she could still transform into something small and hard to notice, “are a guest in this house, and I will expect you to behave in such a manner!
“Pharynx here…” Ocellus said, indicating the changeling to her side. “... put a lot of effort into getting you this chance - your last chance - to avoid the punishment you probably deserved. Your own son, I might add. Someling you treated like garbage, to the point that he’s a total emotional disaster, even by changeling standards!”
Pharynx grunted against the strain on his ear. “H-hey…!”
The tone in Ocellus’ voice slowly heated up as she spoke, the harsher timbre enough to blunt Chrysalis’ own protests.
“I-if he were really m-my son, he would have helped me regain my proper place! My throne! Not… not turned me into this...”
Ocellus’ face darkened, and the former Queen of the Changeling Empire suddenly felt like she was a very small, very helpless bug in the direct path of a storm. A jelly bean storm, but a storm nonetheless.
But when Ocellus spoke, it wasn’t with icy venom. And it wasn't a raging inferno.
Her voice dropped down, low and quiet as a whisper.
“You are not a queen,” she hissed. “You are a disappointment. A monster. You destroyed and perverted the changeling people for so long… I don’t think we’ll ever recover from what you did to us.”
“I…” Chrysalis swallowed, her brow feeling every word like a weight being loaded on top of her. “I made us strong…”
Ocellus shook her head, slowly. “All you did was starve us. And we know it, too. You really think anyling would ever follow you again? What could you possibly offer us? You want us to toss away everything that’s made us happy and fulfilled. And for what? Your… crown? Your pride?”
She closed her eyes, and breathed slowly through her nose. Ocellus’ knees were shaking. Her wings quivered in their shell.
But her voice was steady, and clear as ringing glass.
“But that doesn’t matter here. Not to me.”
Her eyes opened again, and Ocellus turned a steeled gaze down at her… guest.
“I promise you, Chrysalis,” she said, slowly, pronouncing every word as clearly as possible, “I will do everything to help you. You are in my care, and I swear by the All Mother and the First Queen… you will have every opportunity, every possible chance to change.
“I will love you… like you are my own.”
Chrysalis couldn’t look away. Not from those eyes. There was something hypnotic about them.
Or was it the words of the one whose eyes they were?
“But that goes both ways,” Ocellus continued. “You are my guest. I am your caregiver. You will mind me while you’re living here, and I will do everything in my power to help you. But you will follow my rules while you’re here.
“Am I making myself understood?”
Chrysalis’ mouth made a few shapes, but the words wouldn’t come to her.
So, instead, she lowered her head, and whispered, “Yes’m.”
Ocellus nodded, slowly. Her smile – a genuine one, as opposed to strained – returned to her, and she pointed one hoof towards the kitchen.
“Now, march in there and wait for me. I will make you a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. Is that alright?”
The former Queen looked back up at her caregiver… who was still yanking on her parole officer’s ears, and nodded slowly.
“Um… can I have bananas on it too?”
“You may,” Ocellus said happily. “Thank you for asking.”
Despite the pain in his ears, Pharynx couldn’t help but stare, mouth totally agape at the scene playing out in front of him. He watched, in utter silence, as Chrysalis shuffled into the kitchen without raising a further fuss.
“Huh…” he said. He looked down at the floor, and frowned.
“Yes, Pharynx,” Ocellus said, releasing his ears and allowing the prince to pull himself up straight, “I still need you for this.”
She released a breath, and sagged a little bit.
“I don’t think I can keep that up,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Not for too long a stretch, anyway. Not if I also have to feed her Love as we go…”
“Oh, right,” Pharynx said, facehoofing. He’d almost forgotten that growing nymphs needed food and a lot more raw Love than regular changelings.
Not really his fault, considering it was never his job.
“I guess we’ll have to work on a feeding schedule then. And she’s still a Royal, so that’s probably…”
They stood in the entryway, silent again. The enormity of what they were doing hadn’t quite settled in yet, but it was getting there.
“But, hey!” Pharynx said with his own forced-cheer. “You laid down the law! Good job, Lus! You were beautiful there… I mean, you did beautifully…!”
Ocellus’ face didn’t change from the casual worry she’d been wearing since Chrysalis left the room. “Pharynx? Please, don’t…”
“Sorry, I didn’t…”
“Yes,” she said, cutting him off. “You did.”
She sighed again, and looked at him. Their eyes met, and neither could deny the feeling there.
Changelings could taste emotions, after all.
But that was so dangerous…
“Can you go to the store then?” Ocellus asked. “I meant to get tea, since Smolder forgot. And we’ll probably need a few things for our new guest.”
“Caffeine?” he asked, a broken smirk brushing his lips.
Normally, the very suggestion would have gotten a scowl out of Ocellus.
And it still did, just not one as scowly as she could have done.
Before she could respond, both changelings’ ears perked up. There was a sound. A lot of sounds. Ocellus and Pharynx slowly turned their eyes down, and towards the kitchen.
A tiny green nymph tore out of the kitchen, wings buzzing madly. She could only get about a foot or two off the ground, but it was enough to let her clutch what appeared to be an entire cookie jar in between her hooves.
“FREEDOMISMINE!!!”
Chrysalis reached the door – after having had to half-stumble and go the long way around the two grown changelings in her way – and immediately found the problem of the door latch.
She set down the jar, and gave a great, furious buzz of her wings.
She got about halfway to the door handle, and slid back down. But slowly. The second time was about the same.
So was the third.
By the sixth time, Ocellus had finally gotten her giggles under control, and Chrysalis herself needed a five second break between attempts. This made escape from Pharynx’s magic aura quite impossible.
Time-out, it was then decided, would be in the kitchen. And it would include the talking of ground rules. And the talking of chores. And of friends. And of many, many other things, this very first day that Ocellus and Pharynx found themselves working together again.
And it would include peanut butter sandwiches.
No bananas, however. Bananas were for good ‘lings who brushed their teeth before bed, and did not try to steal cookies.
