Author's Notes:

The Usual Disclaimer:

The following is a work of parody, and is protected as Fair Use under section 17 U.S. Code § 107 of US Copyright Law. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and all affiliated characters are property of Hasbro Inc.

I own nothing. All characters, settings and other belong to their respective owners. This is purely a fan-work with no intent towards profit, slander or harm towards the characters, settings or other, or their respective owners. If the respective owners feel that this fan-work in any way, shape or form threatens or besmirches their property, please let me know so that it be can be removed asap.

Please support the show.

So, you know how I was gonna upload this last week and the Dusk Shine story before that?

Yeah.

Uhm.

I have no excuses. Real Life got away from me in a big way.

CHAPTER 78

“We shall return, Sister Comfrey. A much more relaxed visit, either myself or my sister, and we’ll bring some cakes and tea.” Celestia said loudly, before leaning down to nuzzle the top of the ancient Unicorn’s head, the fragile old dame crying again, but this time in happiness, as the Royal Guards and several of the locals set about tidying up the depo-station.

Twilight silently vowed to never again underestimate the ingenuity of her friends. Especially a certain party-pony had been bored stiff on the train ride and had apparently channelled that frustration into making an impromptu party with just some bales of hay, some edibles from the snack-bar in the Friendship Express’s small kitchen and an improbable amount of confetti.

At the very least, the Sister hadn’t had a heart attack when Pinkie’s infamous Party Cannon had been pulled out of literally nowhere to blast the entire group with confetti, but the Royal Guards, especially the Thestrals, had nearly gone into a frenzy and had assumed they were under ‘attack’. Thankfully they’d quickly noticed it was confetti and not cannon-balls raining down on them and gone along with the mood, but the newest Royal had noticed that Bulwark had all but glued himself to her side, and the Thestrals were never more than ten paces away from Luna afterwards.

“We most certainly will!” Luna chirped, being slowly coaxed into letting go of her mutual death-grip with several giggling foals by her Thestrals in the process. Is still puzzled Twilight how somepony who rivalled herself for social awkwardness could be so adept at handling small, rambunctious children.

“If I can, could I also …” Twilight chipped in, hoping to give at least the impression of friendliness given the absurd situation they were trapped in, but given the enthusiastic nodding from the Sister’s two burly handmares, her offer was taken in the right vein.

Slothbow Crawl, still trapped in her sloth form, glared at Twilight from underneath Applejack’s barrel, using her new claws to sloooooowly form a crude approximation of a favourite insulting claw-gesture the Gryphons used before a flushing Pinkie swiped Applejack’s hat and threw it over the offending claw before any of the assembled fillies and colts could see.

For their own part, Fluttershy had come out of her shell once a few of the farmers asked if she’d be willing to come around to their farms and ask the local critters to leave their crops alone. A short negotiation later and the promise that whatever crops weren’t worthy of the weekly market the small village held could be sacrificed to the larger animals like the rabbits, squirrels and birds, and the butter-yellow Pegasus had promised to fly over with some extra bags of seeds for the children to make a ‘practice’ field for them to grow plants that, while not edible for Ponies, would serve to feed the local wildlife and keep them away from the farmers’ crops in the long-term.

Waiting for the Sisterhood’s … patsies? Stooges? Unwitting pawns? Whatever they were, to leave seemed to take forever, but eventually it was just Twilight, Luna, the Bearers and Celestia and the Elements … and over a dozen Guards all waiting awkwardly as golden magic carved runes into the air and the ground around them, a massive dome of shifting, interlocking figures as Celestia prepared for a long-range teleport.

She’s far faster than before. Twilight thought with no little concern, her eyes flicking to the golden barding her former teacher wore, which had now returned to a more armor-like configuration than the regal accoutrements it had reformed into when Sister Comfrey had been revealed to them. Is it the Regalia? I know the Princess has always had too much power to channel all at once like a normal Unicorn, but this is … there’s eighteen different protective wardings that I can understand, and at least as many that are in older forms that I can’t accurately translate. I’m not even going to try to count the counter-sigils for teleportation repulsion effects or matter-restoration magic-circles she’s putting up simultaneously.

The thought that Celestia had always had this at her hooves, yet chose to not use it for the sake of world peace was both comforting and frustrating. On an intellectual level, Twilight could easily grasp not wandering around the world in a suit of armor made out of compressed divine energy would have done wonders for placating mortal leaders who could only see rivals or challengers in any powerful individual, but the fact that the Princess, her Princess, had thrown Twilight, and her friends by dint of proximity, into the lion’s jaws over and over again while having enough power to move the Sun at will, was still a bitterly sore point in Twilight’s mind.

“Before we teleport …” Celestia said in a friendly, familiar tone as the cloud of shifting golden sigils and runes thickened around them. “I will be teleporting us directly into an old meeting hall, so we will be guaranteed privacy, especially since a number of Royal Guards and servants have seen fit to clear the area of all beings and clutter to avoid … accidents … when we arrive, but I must insist we all move as quietly and quickly as we can to Twilight’s private quarters in the castle.”

“Wait, we’re goin’ to Twilight’s … ah thought we were gonna be talkin’ to this Mother o’ Stones?” Applejack asked nervously, standing in a shivering cluster with Fluttershy, Slothbow Crawl and Kindness, obviously unsettled at so much magic on display.

“Sadly, the Mother of Stones will not arrive until she can gather enough of her consciousness in one place to manifest an Avatar for us to interact with, and that could take hours given how spread-out she normally is, or she could be waiting for us when we arrive. Thus, you can stay in Twilight’s quarters, which are heavily guarded and shielded against most forms of intrusion, and rest up until the Mother of Stones makes her entrance.” The Solar Princess answered, smiling benevolently down at her little Ponies. “And I am quite certain I don’t need to remind anypony to keep yourselves as far away from the Northern and Southern Wings of the castle as possible? While I do have a blood-pact from the Changelings and their Queen to cause no harm to my … our citizens, my apologies to you both, Luna, Twilight, I am taking no chances. Not with Twilight now carrying two hostile Elements and Luna and Twilight’s, ahem, sympathetic responses to each other.”

“So who’s in the Southern Wing that we need to avoid? What could possibly rival the Changelings in terms of hazard to our persons?” Luna grumbled, shifting a wing over Twilight’s back, to which Twilight leaned into the contact.

Buck what anyone thinks. We both need a hug right now. Twilight frowned at the thought of having to apologise for her relationship, and snuck a wing over Luna’s back, somewhat miffed she was slightly too short to give her marefriend a proper hug back.

“Cadence and Shining Armor are there, or rather they have been given rooms appropriate to their station in that wing, along with their retinue. I … hope Cadence was gentle with her questioning? I needed to make sure Cadence didn’t level the castle trying to get to the Changelings and I am sorry to say you two were the only card I had left to play in that fight.”

Luna and Twilight flinched, looked at each other, then turned back to the eldest Princess and gave her seething looks.

“We’ll talk later.” Twilight and Luna said at the same time.

“O-oooh, yes, I rather imagine we shall.” A slightly-sickly looking Celestia agreed, her benevolent smile slipping slightly as the rush of golden runes around the group grew erratic for a moment before speeding up, bathing the assembled Ponies and Elementals in glorious golden light. “Well, before anything else happens, everypony, hold onto your lunches, a teleportation of this size and length can be a little rough …”

And before anypony could utter further complaints or concerns, the runes, sigils and symbols all glowed with intense light, merging together into a completely sealed dome of golden sun-fire before fading away, leaving nothing behind but a faint dusting of ash from the now-smoking concrete in a large circle where once the Ponies had stood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Success, Cubic?” Beaker asked, raising his gaze from a chaotic spread of notes and paperwork to look at the young scientist, who while still looking a little green around the gills, held herself proudly.

“Yes, sir. The … insemination worked. If the detection spell is working as intended, fertilization has occurred and I am officially pregnant, although at such an early stage it is possible I could still lose the embryo if I am not careful.” The Unicorn shifted slightly, glancing back at the door as if dreading the return of Bluebone and his attentions. Not an unfair concern, but Beaker did hope her scientific ambitions could eclipse such petty emotional concerns. He could not waste time and training on an assistant who could be so easily distracted.

“Excellent. I will be putting you on light duties and assigning you an orderly. No field-work, no contact with any test-subjects of Grade K or higher, no spell-casting or magical experimentation above simple telekinetic manipulations until the end of your first trimester.” The lanky, dead-eyed head of the Shadow Council’s research division said in a tone that was, for him at least, disturbingly eager. “You will spend your time going over my notes and files, arranging and categorizing them and making sure I have not overlooked anything before we attempt the final fusion attempt of the hybridized womb, a process I am certain will take at least a year to attempt with all the preparation and ground-work before us. Anything you require, you may request under my name, so long as it does not risk in any way, shape or form the test subject you are currently cultivating.”

Cubic nodded, smiling now.

“Furthermore, you are going to be given a battery of magical augmentations to ensure the embryo survives to full term, including spending the next three weeks in a hyperbaric chamber, effective immediately, to ensure you are kept separate from any illnesses or diseases your co-workers may unwittingly be carrying. Our access to the genetic material of the Platinum bloodline is already limited in scope to begin with, thus we are unlikely to get a second attempt if you miscarry.” Beaker continued, his features fading to their usual dull, expressionless mask-like state. “If you have any private experiments or social requirements that will need to be fulfilled in the next three weeks, please find a way to cancel them before your quarantine begins.”

“I do’t have much of a social life, sir, too much risk of being exposed or followed back to the facility by meddling acquaintances that way. As far as my family is aware, I’m just an intern at the School’s research department and other than my great-aunt, I don’t have much contact with my family unless I absolutely have to, and both they and I are happy with that arrangement.” The young mare shook her head, her smile turning into a grin as her pale-green mane cascaded madly around her pale-peach coloured head and neck. If he were interested in such banal things, Beaker might have found the Mare physically attractive. “I have no personal experiments, none that have ever gone beyond a theoretical stage at the least. Too busy working on the Hybrid Womb or the, errr, previous attempt. Sorry, sir, I know it’s a sore subject.”

“I take no offence, Cubic Measurement, Project Chimera Prince was unlikely to succeed in any event but it did significantly advance our understanding of the body’s innate rejection of foreign tissue and how competing immune systems react to being forced to share a single host-body.” The dead-eyed stallion turned his gaze from his new personal assistant to the cage that had once hung from the ceiling of the primary experimentation chamber, and was now being ferried to a new location, one deeper and further down into the earth, where the experiment to use all of the stolen Dragon’s Fire and a utterly unique teleportation chamber to finish the task the Shadow Council had given to him so many months ago. If he were not a Stallion of logic, he could have sworn he could feel the hate of the creatures inside the cage even from this distance on his back. “Remember, for scientists like ourselves, every failure is a stepping stone on the path to understand, to perfection. With the information and knowledge we have gleaned from the previous Projects, the Hybrid Womb Project has a full seventy-eight percent chance of success, even accounting for the current political situation’s impact on our ability to harvest genetic material and the Shadow Council’s internal bickering.”

“Speaking of which, the Councillors agreed to my conditions. Bluebone will be kept far from you and the subject, regardless of how his legal battle plays out with the Princess. The offspring, regardless of gender, will be raised as you see fit so long as the Shadow Council retains access to a steady supply of the Platinum line’s genetic material.” Beaker continued, noting with some small joy that Cubic’s posture became more and more confident, more relaxed, with each passing moment.

Excellent. A stressed mother tended to miscarry far more than a pacified and relaxed one.

“I assume they won’t want to kill the child. So we’ll be taking blood, tissue, maybe eggs or sperm samples once the child ages enough?” Cubic asked, and Beaker paused for a moment. He had not expected Cubic to refer to the test subject as a child, given her distaste for the sire …

“Naturally. Bluebone is old and is unlikely to be able to provide more genetic samples of any scientific worth, and Blueblood is notoriously hostile to the Shadow Court’s political ideals, and if he ever learned the identities of the members of the Shadow Council, it is highly likely he would expend every resource available to him to see them all hunted down and exiled from Equestria, no matter the cost to himself.” Turning his gaze fully to Cubic’s eyes, the scientist pressed forwards. “But why call the subject a ‘child’, Cubic? I take it you are placing some emotional investment in it?”

“Well … yes, sir. I will be carrying the child to term, raising it, molding its mind. Some level of emotional attachment and baggage is inevitable between us, so since attempting to maintain a proper level of scientific detachment between us is doomed to fail, I decided to instead include the inevitable attachment and emotional investment into our plans and move forwards while compensating for such things.” Cubic nodded, obviously unaware of Beaker’s concerns about her, and pushed a lock of her mane out of her face. “Besides, a strong, positive emotional attachment will only help the child adapt in a healthy manner to the stresses of growing up in the middle of Canterlots political schemes, and I fully intend for the child to carry on our work with the Shadow Court, and the Shadow Council that leads the Court, once they come of age.”

Beaker stopped and considered Cubic’s reasoning, finding it sound if slightly less detached than he had hoped the intelligent and driven young scientist would have been. It would make sense to encourage the child to develop a strong emotional bond to Cubic, since in doing so she could ensure the child would not fuss or fear the harvesting of genetic samples, and the prospect of raising a member of the Platinum bloodline to favour the research division, especially considering Bluebone’s advanced age and his pre-existing progeny’s hostility …

“Hmmm…” Beaker stopped, switched mental gears and let the dull, dreary reality fade away into the glorious realm of logic and extrapolation. It was highly unlikely that the Shadow Court would ever publicly topple the Princesses without some drastic shift in the political balance of power. They lacked the good-will and influence of the Princess of the Sun and the growing popularity of the Princess of the Moon. Their Unicorns-first attitude also lowered their chances of a non-violent change in leadership of the country given their influence held little sway outside of Canterlot and the immediate surrounding regions.

And if Bluebone should slip into the Princess’s clutches and have to be silenced, then the only other known survivor of the Platinum bloodline was ‘Prince’ Blueblood … whose hostility towards the Shadow Council, the secretive Nobles who backed, funded and directed the Shadow Court’s public endeavours was legendary. And despite being sexually active with a great many mares, from information gleaned from both more public, if less than reputable sources, and the hard-won intelligence from the short-lived spies into the Blueblood Household reported, Blueblood had yet to produce an heir of any sort.

While he had had to alert the Shadow Council of Bluebone’s visit and subsequent ‘deposit’, they had been less interested in the foal and more its potential future uses to them as individuals. With Bluebone likely soon to disappear, either into Horseshoe Bay or under an assassin’s knife, and Blueblood quiet likely sterile, then the subject that Cubic Measurement carried under her heart was likely the sole hope through which the Platinum bloodline could continue to be cultivated, and the only hope of uniting the Nobility of Canterlot under a single banner if the Shadow Court actually could depose the Princesses and invoke the ancient laws that promised the Old Bloodlines that once ruled Unicornia could take their places on the Throne.

A rare few individuals in the Shadow Council might take an interest in the offspring’s emotional growth upon meeting the offspring, but most would be more interested in binding the sole thread of Princess Platinum’s line, and the political advantages that would bring, to their own households, specifically their own bloodlines. The vast majority would be thinking of Marriage Contracts and squabbling with their fellows for the chance to become next protector of the Platinum Bloodline. Their interactions would likely be limited to attempts to bribe, cocere or otherwise bring the offspring to favour their own Houses for a spouse, rather than any serious attempt to befriend or bond with the subject.

And however much Beaker despised politics and the inane social dances Ponies and other mortal creatures invented to try and determine their role in the social pecking order as a waste of valuable time and energy, cultivating such a uniquely-placed individual to not only bring sound logic and scientific order to the Shadow Council’s chaotic squabbling for dominance against each other, and against the ruling Diarches, but such a being could, if they assumed the throne, finally start pushing Equestria to embrace true progress, not merely rely on such antiquated methods as soldiers armed with sword, spear and shield or crude ballista, or the laughably simple mechanisms of steam engines!

“To be able to practice our disciplines openly, Cubic … perhaps you are right on the subject of the … child.” Beaker said without warning, causing the nervously-fidgeting Mare to jump in place, who had remained silent as her chief entered one of his infamous periods of internal debate. “Raised correctly, with an eye to embracing the glory of science and mastering the quagmire of politics, the child could very well do for our era what the Princesses did during the Age of Wandering. It is of the bloodline of Princess Platinum, and the child of one of the most brilliant minds that the Canterlot Scientific Society misguidedly discarded, after all.”

The Mare’s eye twitched for a moment before she took a small breath and nodded once, sharply.

“Do not worry, I suspect once the child comes of age that we may enter them into the hum-drum of the public school system, they will blow the socks off those who scorn you, I and the majority of our comrades down here in the ‘Pit’, as the Shadow Council so amusingly labels this place. Imagine the looks on their faces when the new prodigy for scientific advancement in Equestria turns out to be the child of a brilliant mind they hypocritically turned away for something so simple and inoffensive as grave-robbing.” Beaker’s eyes twinkled with a cold form of amusement at seeing those puffed-up grade-schoolers who masqueraded as the scientific geniuses of their time being pulled down from their perches and true scientific minds taking their places, elevating Equestria from the mental rut it had been stuck in for the past few centuries.

“The public school … what?Why?” Cubic’s shock was annoying, but understandable. She was thinking long-term, but not in the same way that he could. Not step by step, plans within plans. Few did, or would, and the only one Beaker knew of who could and often did such a thing was, sadly, well under the hoof of the Princess of the Sun.

If only she could be convinced to work with him, the advances that could be made …

“We will need to prove the child’s parentage, after all, if the Shadow Council’s ambitions are to be realized, and our funding is to be secured for future experimentation. And part of the Canterlot Public School system’s registration is recording every child’s blood-type, along with other physical and biological measurements, for the sake of future medical issues as well as to try to keep an accurate bloodline record of so many ponies crammed together whenever spring hits and estrus causes a breeding frenzy. If you claim Bluebone sired the child on you by force, that you were destitute and needed the money, or whatever reason you decide will earn you and the child the most sympathy from those around it, then even if Bluebone is long gone from this world by that stage, the child will share enough genetic similarity with Blueblood that the test will still register a positive.” The bland-faced scientist clapped his hooves together once, a soft, singular gesture of approval as understanding dawned on Cubic’s soft face. “Such a revelation will, of course, do all the rounds of Canterlot’s odious printing houses and radio-stations, and the ‘proof’, both of the legal variety and that of the ironically-named common sense of the Ponies who peruse such things, and before the child reaches their majority, the whole world will ‘know’ that it is the bearer of the Platinum Bloodline.”

“Sir, that’s … genius. If we can do that, then the Princess has to give at least some form of support to the child or she’ll run the risk of the printing houses crucifying her for allowing one of the Three Royal Bloodlines to die out, given that Blueblood has yet to sire an offspring of his own.” Cubic’s eyes brightened and a wide, shark-like smile spread across her face. “If the Princesses are successfully accused of anti-Unicorn sentiments, a good half of Canterlot would riot, and that would be all the ammunition the Shadow Court would need to instigate a vote of No Confidence in the Diarchy and petition for their abdication. And the Shadow Council will all want to have the child think favourably of them since it will likely be the only effective source of Princess Platinum’s bloodline to inject into their own families, and thus their own potential claim to the Throne if the Princesses can be forced to abdicate becomes the strongest claim left!”

“That is the strategy I believe will work the best, but for now, you must be kept secure, calm and in the best of health. If the Platinum bloodline fails, well, while I only care for the Shadow Council’s plans as a means to advance our scientific understanding, without that bloodline, the Unicorns lose their one and only chance to reclaim the Throne from the Princesses and the only common cause the members of the Shadow Council have with each other.” The dead-eyed Chief Scientist looked Cubic in the eyes and spoke with absolutely certainty in his voice. “Whether the Hybrid Womb project succeeds or fails, right now, you carry the only future for the Shadow Council and its ambitious members. Do not forget that, nor do not allow yourself to be coerced by the Councillors.”

“As of this moment, Cubic Measurement, you are the most important being on this planet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chrysalis sighed and looked at her offspring, hugging their stuffed toys, then looked out the window of the ‘Red Room’ Celestia has stuffed her into, over the glistening spires and immaculate streets of the capital of Equestria.

It might once have been hers, every stone, spire and Pony within, had the fates been kinder and her mind more focused on the task at hand and not torn between trying to figure out how to re-enchant Shining’s mind on the spot without reducing him to a drooling husk in the process and seething rage at the pink Princess whom she’d been impersonating for all that time stealing Chrysalis’s favorite stallion back.

But now … turning her attention back to the lawyers assigned to her under some equine madness that allowed the guilty party free access to legal representation, at the taxpayer’s expense no less, the once-and-future Queen noted that two of the poor saps seemed more apt to wet themselves if they made eye-contact with her, and the other two, older and perhaps more jaded individuals, merely raised an eye and asked if she had anything to ask.

“Nothing beyond what we have already discussed, good ponies. I attacked due to a belief, falsely now I understand, that Equestria was a failing country that would be easily destroyed by an outside force. My informats, rogue nobles unhappy with the status quo, lied to me and gave me distorted information and biased reports, and I assumed I would be liberating a country from a despot who was using a religious belief in her supposed immortality and moving of celestial objects to maintain her grip on power.’ Chrysalis replied tartly, then sighed again and gave what she hoped was a friendly smile, by Pony standards at least. “Let us be honest with each other, I am guilty as sin of invading your capital and attempting to launch a military coup. My intentions, however, were indeed to protect the citizens of Equestria, and her allied nations, from an invading army that will likely make itself known within the next two or three decades, if I am remembering the Empress’s reproductive cycle correctly.”

“Indeed, that is the main thrust of our defence, that while you have committed crimes against the state and her people, you are willing to make amends and explain your actions. While we’ll have a great deal of trouble proving your claims of invaders from across the Badlands as the main impulse behind your actions, especially since that part of the world is notoriously unrecorded due to the hostility of both the region and its inhabitants, your willingness to bind yourself to the nation via a blood-pact invoking non-aggression between both parties can be leveraged in your favour.” The older lawyer on the left, a pale pink Stallion with a dull two-toned orange and yellow mane and tail said in gentle, conciliatory tones, while his two young interns, both Mares, nodded feverishly while avoiding direct eye-contact with the Changeling Queen. “And your willingness to allow our Magi unrestricted access to study the powers and physiologies of the Changeling people can be used as well. Proof that Changelings are not monsters but simply equine-like beings with unique needs, and fully willing to integrate into our society will help our efforts to curb any paranoia or us-vs-them attitudes the media will try to spin to up their sales.”

“That’s … going to be our biggest challenge, actually. The Princess put a great deal of social stock in making sure your case goes off as fairly and openly as possible. Her detractors know this, and will be attempting to pervert the course of justice by whipping Equestria into a frenzy of anti-Changeling hysteria.” The other older Lawyer, a Mare whose left side of her dark brown face had been marred by something, leaving her muzzle, cheek and the area just under her eye hairless and covered in what appeared to be pock-marks, slurred slightly, the left side of her muzzle restrained slightly by the scarring. “All the legal wrangling in the world won’t save us if you say or do anything to give the media ammunition to use against your people. I’ve seen it before with the refugee crises, whenever somepony high up the chain decides they don’t like a race or people and starts to stir up the media with the darkest, grimmest version of what is happening to try, using scare-monger tactics to place the blame for the situation onto the refugees fleeing their homelands, and then scare Ponies into rejecting the refugees to save ‘themselves’. And given your … history with Equestria, they won’t have to reach too far to get Ponies to fear your people.”

“In other words, play the sympathetic card to the hilt.” The Changeling Queen said with a smirk, to which the two older Lawyers shared a glance.

“That and focus on the plight of your people as your primary drive, a maternal urge to protect them at all costs. An entire species on the run from their tyrannical creator, knowing nothing of Harmony or friendship, and then being used by unscrupulous Nobles looking to cause trouble for the Princess will quite likely earn us a more lenient sentence for yourself and greater acceptance for your people than your usual … uhm …” The older male began, then stated fishing for the appropriate terminology that wouldn’t result in him being eaten.

“Raging bitchery and megalomaniacal gloating? Sarcasm bitter enough to melt holes through the floor?” The Changeling smirked at the Stallion.

“Well, if you’re cognisant of the fact, then that makes planning our strategies so much easier.” The scarred Mare replied without batting an eyelid, to which Chrysalis gave her a wicked grin. “Seriously, while we are bound to defend you in the courts to the very utmost of our abilities, please be serious about this as well. I believe in the wisdom of the Thrones and the information they have given us from you, and their own investigations into the matter, but you are going to be going in against Ponies whose self-interest and agendas you are about to violently undercut with your defence pleas, if not out their Houses for attempting a coup against the Solar Throne, and that could easily result in their entire House being exiled from the country. Anything you say, anything you do, anything a single member of your Hive does that could be used against you will be blown completely out of proportion and broadcasted across the world by these Ponies.”

“And lest we forget, my Sisters could arrive at any time, and buzz their way right into the middle of this poo-slinging troop of infighting monkeys you call a government.” Granting herself a small treat of melodramatic air, a fitting reward for being locked in the room with these stuffed shirts for the past three hours, Chrysalis flung a be-hold’d leg over her face and groaned dramatically. “Thankfully, the Hive-Mind will allow me to send early warning to them, and alert your Princess to when, where and how the other Changeling Hives will be entering her country. We should be able to avoid a great deal of ‘bad publicity’ that way.”

Chrysalis was about to continue to speak, when a rather urgent notice went racing through her Hive-Mind, and grumbling peevishly, the battered Queen pulled the blanket higher over her latest hatchlings in a vain attempt to shelter them from the rapidly-approaching fiend who kept trying to steal them away.

A series of rapid-fire knocks on her door were answered with a swift ‘Sod off!’ from Chrysalis, to which the knocker ignored and poked her head in.

Celestia, Raiser of the Sun, Bringer of Hope, Bearer of the Eternal Flame and Keeper of Harmony looked paler than a ghost, a feat in and of itself with her pristine white coat, and locked eyes on Chrysalis with a desperation the Changeling Queen had rarely seen on any of the many ‘hosts’ her Hive had collected over the past sixty years in Equestria.

“Chryssie, I need you to come to my chambers and meet Luna and Twilight right now. And bring the foals. Foals are good. They won’t eat me alive if there are foals in the room.”

“Am I to be thrown under the bus like your darling ‘niece’ and that adorably sexy spooning-machine she sto … pinc … recovered from my care?” Chrysalis muttered darkly, crossing her hooves over her chest, only to be gathered up in a glowing cloud of golden magic and levitated over the heads of the lawyers, foals, blanket, pillows and all.

“Celestia?” Chrysalis asked louder, feeling a stirring of panic in her chest as the panicking Sun-Goddess levitating her towards her doom remained silent.

Hive, if I do not make this out alive … I love you all. Each and every one of you. And yes, even you, Thorax, you little goof. The Changeling Queen sent through the Hive-Mind, along with orders to remain in their chambers.

She could feel her Sisters coming, after all. Celestia would, without fail, find some way to bring them into the capital and look after Chrysalis’s Hive and children if Chrysalis herself perished. It was not as bitter as she had imagined, and found herself chagrined by the feeling of … gratitude and acceptance that flowed through her amidst the cacophony of individual responses from her surviving Drones, Guards and Infiltrators. Part of that gratitude came from her own Changelings, who knew their Queen had arranged things to ensure the terrifying aloneness of being without a Hive-Mind, without a Queen to support such a thing, would be swiftly rectified, while the majority came from Chrysalis herself.

It was an alien, if welcome, sensation to have someling more powerful than herself in charge, rather than having to bear the burden of leadership on her own shoulders. It was galling to admit, but leaving things in Celestia’s gilded goody-horse-shoes hooves would probably be more beneficial to her children’s survival, all of them, than the cloak-and-dagger schemes Chrysalis had been trained to use from birth.

And then she was in a room full of Ponies and there was a purple-red light shining in her eyes.

“Yep, tha’s the bug.”

“Oh my goodness, she’s so … oh dear, oh dear.”

“Simply awful, how can she still be alive after looking like …”

“C’mon, it’s gotta be a trick, she can change shapes, she can probably pretend to look half-squashed too!”

“Either blast me or turn off your damn horn.” Chrysalis croaked, holding a be-hold’d leg over her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the slow combustion of her retinas. “I am in too much pain, too tired, and too over all of this to care, but at the very least aim higher. I don’t want the babies to be hurt.”

“Ba-babies?” That familiar, cursedly familiar voice squeaked, and Chrysalis mentally berated herself. She’d been planning on holding her children’s parentage as a trump card to use in the courts to ensure they, at least, could stay in Equestria if everything went to hell. Twilight Sparkle was one of the sharpest and most brilliant minds Ponykind had ever produced, it would be insane to assume she couldn’t immediately pick …

The blanket was taken away from her and her three youngest children peeped and mewled unhappily at being left exposed.

For precious seconds, only silence reigned before an overwhelming chorus of squee filled the air, and to Chrysalis’s bleary eyes, a pair of yellow, orange and dark-blue hooves shot out and carefully lifted up her offspring.

“Oh my gosh, we’ve never known what Changelings look like in their various life-cycles! We always assumed it was insectile, but if they give live-birth, then that means they’re more mammalian than …” Babbling happily, the purple nerd was looming over the Princess of Moodiness’s night-themed shoulder, the two of them with their muzzles almost touching one of her little girls, who seemed to be going back to sleep in the feathery cradle of Luna’s wing, while the other two were likewise the focus of intense cuddling and coddling, with the orange farm-hick holding the little white-coated male while the pink menace and the …

Chrysalis blinked, rubbed her eyes, then blinked again. Why is the would-be socialite with the bedazzled backside in a full-torso cast?

Her final child, however, was carefully cradled in not a yellow wing, but a cyan-blue one, the rainbow-haired adrenaline-junkie staring at the little buggy foal with awe on her face while the yellow recluse with the scary eyes fluttered about with a camera, taking shot after shot of the entire mess.

Turning her head to glare at Celestia, Chrysalis hissed under her breath at her ‘saviour’. “My children are not to be used as meat-shields again, Princess Celestia, or all bets are off. What would you have done if your neurotic student had decided to blast me on sight?”

“Twilight might be … a little under pressure right now, but she would never actively strike at anypony unless given reason to. You wrapped in bandages and being levitated like a sack of potatoes was not a valid reason to blast you, although she was very, errr, enthusiastic in her casting of a detection spell on both of us.” The Solar Princess whispered back, but looked far less panicked than she had when Celestia had abducted Chrysalis from the Red Rooms. “Besides, I needed to show Luna why I was willing to make such a large decision without her, given the …”

Something changed behind Celestia’s eyes as her gaze flicked from Chrysalis to her sister and pupil, then back to the Changeling Queen.

“Ah, the situation in Ponyville right now.” Celestia said, a faint trembling in her lips that bespoke of the urge to not smile, the flick of an ear and the slight ruffling of the feathers in her wings that whispered of nervousness.

Chrysalis turned her gaze back to the other two Princesses in the room and studied them, specifically what had changed from the last time she had … Oh. Oh my. No wonder Celestia is so on edge around those two.

“So …” Chrysalis began, as loudly as her ravaged body would allow and a wicked grin on her face as Celestia began to mutter ‘no no no no no no’ under her breath. “Exactly how long have Luna and Twilight been going at it like bunnies in the spring-time?”

Seven ponies all performed spit-takes at once, though thankfully none of it ended up on Chrysalis’s children, followed closely by the sound of both of Celestia’s armored fore-hooves making loud, meaty contact with her face.

As the spluttering Princesses of nerds and emos flailed at her and their friends all either burst into laughter or equally flustered spluttering, Chrysalis leaned in towards Celestia and whispered to her.

“Just because I have surrendered doesn’t give you the right to use my offspring as pawns in your own personal affairs, Celestia. Do it again and we’ll see how well your fellow Princesses take to learning about your other affairs? I've noticed the hitch in your step and the way you have a certain mismatched snake dogging your steps and giving you puppy-dog eyes, and I've kept my mouth shut out of respect for your privacy. Don't give me reason to stop respecting it.”

“… Duly noted. I still claim the right to snuggle the little darlings every time I see them, however.” Celestia grumbled back, levitating Chrysalis back into the air and over onto an over-stuffed chair as the room devolved into chaos such as that the Changeling Queen was surprised Discord didn’t spontaneously appear to claim it as his own.

“Five minutes only, each one.” The Changeling Queen retorted.

“Ten minutes each, and I’ll bring those honey-glazed eclairs. One for each of your Changelings.”

“Two for each of my Changelings and ten for me, and I will concede.”

“…. Fine. Now stop teasing my sister and my … my Twilight. She is my student again, but in a different field than before, and I cannot risk her flailing into politics blindly, as she lacks the understanding of the darkness inherent in such a domain, unlike you and I. Thus, I suspect you both will learn a great deal from each other before your time together is done.”

“I beg your pardon?” Chrysalis snapped loudly, shocked. She can’t possibly be suggesting …

“Twilight Sparkle has the brightest, sharpest mind of her generation, and can turn that intellect to any task with ease.” Celestia said in a voice that just oozed confidence, and made Chrysalis’s stomach turn into a cold pit. “Who better to defend you in the Courts and ease the integration of every Changeling Hive into Equestrian society than the greatest hero in living memory? Who better to champion the befriending of the Changelings than the Princess of Friendship herself?”

In the sudden near-silence of the room, with only the burbling of her children and the sound of somepony hyperventilating to fill the void, Chrysalis took the only sane option to Celestia’s latest revelation and choose the safety of unconsciousness, fainting dead away on her couch.