Chapter Twenty Eight

The Games We Play

There was silence as the dragon looked at the stunning mare before him. It was complete, deep, pervading the entire room like a cloud of smoke. The moonlight shone through the large window, glinting ever so slightly off of Spike’s spines and the changeling’s wings.

“Chrysalis?” he asked. “Where... where is Meia?” His voice rose slightly. “Where is my wife?”

Chrysalis blinked in surprise and fear when he took a threatening step towards her. “I... I am your wife, Spike Dragul,” she replied softly, wiping a few remaining tears from her face.

“My wife is Meia Morphos, as married to me by the power of King Louis of Prance,” Spike said, his tone becoming less calm with every passing second. “What have you done with her? Where have you taken her? Answer me!”

“She is me!” Meia said, her voice a little louder than she had wanted it to be. Looking over at the others’ rooms, she looked back at Spike and took a step forward. “Meia is me, I am Meia: we are one in the same!”

Spike stopped mid-step at her hushed tone, the gears turning in his head. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he abruptly turned around and walked back to his bed, a deep growl emanating from his throat. The Queen of the Changelings could hear him grinding his teeth in barely-suppressed rage from all the way over there.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “Where is the mare I married? Where is the mare I love?”

“She is here, Spike,” the queen said, pressing her hands to her heart. “She is a part of me: she always has been. I am Meia Morphos: she is Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings.”

Spike seemed to descend into another silent rage, though he didn’t say anything for a while. He was too focused on something in his head, something he apparently didn’t want her to know about just yet.

“Tell me the truth: when did Meia come into existence?” he asked, turning on a heel and pointing at the queen he was married to. “When did my... wife, become real?” There was a dangerous look in his eyes, a look of hurt, betrayal, and righteous fury. That and... was that a tear? It was: Spike was actually crying! That little signal sent a chill up the spine of Chrysalis. She hadn’t expected the poor dragon to cry when she told him the truth.

“The day we met on the Crowhop,” Chrysalis said quietly after a moment of thought. She had to be careful with her word choice, lest Spike completely break down and start sobbing. Yeah, that would go well. “She was my disguise so that none would notice me. A unicorn would have been less noticed than an alicorn, which is why I chose to be one instead of the other. I couldn’t perform the magic I knew I would need to as a pegasus, and I could never pass for an earth pony in any form.”

“But... why?” Spike asked, sitting down on the bed, some of his anger seeming to leave him. “Why did you do all of this?” On the inside, his inner fire was raging against its chains, demanding that she be punished, preferably in a very nasty way. But that same fire saw her as his mate, his wife, the mother of his foal: he couldn’t hurt her. He never would never be able to lay a hand on her; Spike could never bring himself to such a low.

“Because, Spike, I... I had plans,” Chrysalis said, deciding to go for broke. “Through you, my dreams would have been realized: the overthrow of princesses Celestia and Luna, the freeing of my ponies from the badlands in which we are forced to inhabit, the love of countless ponies to feed off of: it was all there. It would have been a grand achievement for my ponies, for my kind. We would have won what we had so wrongly been denied: some semblance of happiness for once in our existence.”

She could still see it now: her armies darkening the skies, Celestia and her cohorts carried off in magic-nullifying chains, her ponies free from the cursed badlands in which they had been forced to eke out a living... Only now it filled her with disgust and dread, of fear that such a thing was so horrible that she didn’t want to admit she had thought, nay, dreamt of it. How low had she sunk in order to fulfill a dream that hadn’t even been hers?

“To overthrow Equestria?” Spike asked, jumping to his feet as anger soared back into his voice. “You did this all to take over my home? To ruin the lives of my friends and family? And yet you still think I should forgive you for plotting this? You think I should just sweep that all under the rug and forget that? That I should forget about the invasion of Canterlot all those years ago? You did this all for yourself?”

She felt very afraid right then and there, just from the look in his eyes and the way his teeth were bared. “No!” Chrysalis said. “Well, yes, at first, but things changed, Spike: I changed. I still can’t believe how much I’ve changed.” Wow, did that last part sound corny in her head.

“What do you mean, “at first” and “things changed”, Chrysalis?” Spike asked, his tail clenching behind him like an angry snake. “How could things have possibly changed? You planned all this from the start, and yet... you still want me to just up and forgive you for all this?”

“It was my original intention to become close to you, to use you... to make of you a weapon I could use to complete my vision,” Chrysalis said. “My powers and beguiling nature would have had, what I assumed, was a weak-willed dragon wrapped around my little finger. I knew it would not be easy, what with all the things you were expected to do on such a journey, but I was confident, so sure that I would succeed. What could a young dragon like yourself even hope to do against the Queen of the Changelings, after all? I was strong, leader of a fierce and proud race, with magical powers the likes of which most ponies will never see in their lifetime, or several lifetimes. I thought myself to be strong-willed, impervious to the affections and charms of others. I thought I could handle anything life threw at me on this journey of yours.”

“And then?” Spike asked through grinding teeth, his fingers digging into his palms. “What then? What changed, Chrysalis? What made you change so much, as you say you have?” If he had not been a dragon, his fingernails would have been drawing blood, so hard was the pressure on his scales.

“I... I met you: the real you, not the dragon I assumed you would be. Knowing you were royalty by now, I assumed you’d be stuck-up, pompous and self-centered, as have so many other royal creatures I have had the unfortunate opportunities to meet. Instead, I came to see the studious, chivalric, gentle and polite dragon you are, through and through. It was... well, it was a shock, to say the least, Spike. I had never thought you’d be what many would consider the most suitable choice for a lover,” Chrysalis said softly. “You saved me twice on the Crowhop, at the expense of your own life the second time. Then, once we were in Equineland, you took me on a romantic tour of the countryside, all the way to the White Cliffs of Roaner, taking care of all my needs with little thought of your own.”

“So? Any gentledrake or gentlecolt would have done the same,” Spike replied. “I behaved as I was taught, something that your kind should have been teaching its offspring.” There was slight venom behind his words when he said “offspring”, as if he didn’t want to say foals. That would equate them as being the same as his friends and family, something he did not want to do.

“But you were no regular gentledrake or gentlecolt, Spike,” the queen said, feeling a sudden stab of sorrow when he said “offspring”. Changelings were not very different from other ponies, but to call their babies “offspring” and not call them “foals” was to equate them with beasts. “You cared about others more than you realize: you still do. When I could have caught a cold after we were stranded by that thunderstorm in Eqineland, you let me share your bed in that inn. I could have come down with a terrible sickness without your body heat, which you offered freely, and with no expectation of a returned favor.”

“Yes, well, I couldn’t just take advantage of you,” Spike said, some of the anger leaving his voice.

“Any stallion could have, or at least most would have,” Chrysalis said. “It would be in their nature, but you are a dragon: so alike and yet so different from us equines in so many ways.”

“Get to the point,” the dragon said. His patience was wearing thin.

“My point is, Spike, I fell in love with you,” the Changeling Queen said softly. “Hopelessly, maddeningly, deeply in love with you. I argued with myself for the longest time that I couldn’t be in love with you, and then time and time again, it was revealed to me that you were what I had always needed. Not what I wanted, as wants change with time and are whatever I fancy at the moment.”

“I was what you needed?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. “Since when did a queen with so much power at her disposal need anything?”

“Power does not bring happiness, Spike: in fact, it more likely drains you of it. I was cold, calculating, unfeeling, all because I had nopony to call my own. I had never known love, nor did I think I was capable of it. I needed you, because you offered me a different choice, a different path.”

“And what path would that be?” Spike asked, taking a few steps backwards and sitting down on the bed.

“A path away from the hate and vengeance and insanity that has plagued my life ever since I became a queen, Spike,” Chrysalis replied, taking a few tentative steps towards him. “A path filled with hope, and new life, and most importantly: love. I used to think it odd, that we Changelings feed off of love but can’t truly express our own: I never had any examples to pick from. But now I see the opposite: we feed off of love because it is what we crave. We want love, need love: to be loved. That is why you have remained strong in my presence, whereas one I did not love would be severely weakened by my draining aura.”

“To be loved?” the dragon asked quietly. “You are Changelings: you are incapable of such an action!” He put a bit more force into the words than he would have liked, but he needed to say something he still felt was true. It was true, right?

“No, Spike,” Chrysalis said, choking back a small sob at his venomous words. “A changeling must experience a reciprocated love in order to love, which is why our kind has never interacted much with others. That is why I... I love you. I could not love you if the feeling wasn’t returned, even if only just. But that feeling is returned, and it changed me, Spike. It made me see how sad and lonely my existence would be without somepony to hold me, somepony to comfort me when life got me down. You... you were that somepony, Spike.”

Spike didn’t say anything to that for a few minutes: how could he? Here, a long-time enemy of his home had fallen in love with him and was carrying his foal. Plus, she had revealed she had changed because of him, which was something most, if not all, would think impossible for the Changeling race.

“Why now? Why reveal yourself to me now?” he asked softly. “You could have kept up your disguise as... Meia, for so much longer than this.”

“Yes, I suppose I could have stayed in my disguise, but things would have become very suspicious in a short amount of time,” the queen replied. “Changelings experience much more rapid and unpredictable mood swings than other ponies. Add to that the fact that our bodies are not meant to be heavily pregnant and disguised as another: our magic could harm the foal if we tried that in the later stages.”

“Like I said: why now?” Spike asked, a small and sudden feeling of relief sweeping over him. If she had kept up the ruse, especially into the later stages, their foal could have been in terrible danger from the very creature that was carrying it inside of her. And it would have all been Spike’s fault, his attitude towards changelings forcing her to keep up the disguise. He could never forgive himself if any of his foals came out damaged due to a decision of his.

“I... I don’t truly know, to be honest,” Chrysalis said, taking another few tentative steps forward. When Spike made no move to stop her, she gently sat down on the bed with him, though not right next to him. “I saw the happiness in the faces of the others, the same kind of happiness I feel around you. It is love and joy, the likes of which I do not remember much of growing up or even experiencing before I met you. I... I guess I was tired of living a lie, to both you and the others. I didn’t want my foal in more danger by keeping up the disguise, and, well... it was about time I did something for others, for once.”

“What do you mean, for others?” Spike asked.

“I wanted to spare all of you the pain and anger that would undoubtedly have been far worse if I had revealed myself at a later time,” Chrysalis replied, scooting a little closer to Spike. “Since we are early enough in this voyage of yours, or at least early enough with Asalah in tow, I was hoping they’d be more understanding: I was hoping you’d be more understanding.”

They sat in silence for what felt like the longest time before Spike spoke again.

“Was it all real?” he asked quietly. The tears had long since dried, but by the tone of his voice, the slightest wrong or troubling answer could set them off again.

“Was what all real?” Chrysalis asked, confused. Spike was showing more mood swings than a heavily pregnant mare: angry, sad, confused, and now sad once again.

“The love, the emotions: all of it,” Spike said, a slight tension emanating from his throat. Was... was he going to cry again? “Was it real?”

“Wha....you... YES!” Chrysalis said, dispensing with the distance and grabbing Spike by the shoulders, turning him to face her. “Of course it was all real. Why on Earth wouldn’t it be?” Her patience was growing short: she had given out all she could, but now she needed at least some closure, and damned if she wasn’t going to get it.

“Well,” Spike said, suddenly feeling very exposed to Chrysalis. Wow, he had been angry at her only a few minutes ago, and now he felt vulnerable in her presence? “How am I supposed to know if you mean it?”

“Spike, I love you: I truly, deeply do,” Chrysalis said, wondering why males could be so dense sometimes. “Ever since you saved me on the Crowhop, I felt something for you. I just... kept pushing it away every time it came up again. I would argue with myself whenever you weren’t around until that night in the baron’s castle. It was then with the help of your first wife, Maria, that I realized something that I had been trying to deny for the longest time. I love you, Spike; I love you more than I thought I could, or would ever be able to.”

Spike felt his heart flutter slightly at this. “But... but... the others-,” he began.

Chrysalis placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. “Let me ask you something, Spike. Do you love me?” She knew this was sort of a cheap shot, but she needed him to be with her on this.

Spike’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. “Well... what.... I.... I mean.... I don’t know,” he said finally in a rather defeated tone.

The Queen of the Changelings couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Here she had poured out her heart and soul to this dragon, and he didn’t know if he felt the same way anymore?” “What do you mean, “I don’t know”? Is it that hard to think of it?”

“No! I mean... Chrysalis, I don’t know what to think,” Spike said, burying his face in his hands. “I mean, I fell in love with Meia, and got married to her. Now, after all these miles and the love I have experienced and given, I find out she isn’t real. She’s the construct of someone who fell in love with me after they planned to use me to take over my home! How should I feel about that?”

Chrysalis didn’t have an immediate response to that: how could she? Spike must have been giving this some thought the entire time they had been talking. “We... we can start over, you and I,” she said softly, pulling him closer to her and giving his shoulders a soft squeeze.

Spike was silent for what felt like an eternity. “We can?” he asked softly.

“Of course we can,” the queen said softly. She had known this part would come, but coming this soon lifted her heart.
“It won’t be the same, you know,” Spike said in an equally soft tone. “We’d have to start everything over, from scratch.”

“I know,” Chrysalis replied. Of course she knew: she had been panning for this since she had decided to tell him, but hearing it now, coming from him, was opening her eyes to the truth for what felt like the first time.

“You’ll have to show your true self to the others and deal with the consequences on your own,” Spike said.
“I know.” She wasn’t looking forward to it, but it was inevitable.

“Plus, you’ll have to keep up your appearances whenever my friends call us from Equestria,” Spike continued. “Also, those letters you’ve been writing: you’ll still be doing it, as to keep up the appearance of being Meia. They’ll have to find out sometime, but not now.”

Chrysalis was about to protest the part about keeping up appearances, but the look in Spike’s eyes shut her up instantly. “O... okay,” she said softly, rising to her hooves. “Well, I guess... good night,” she said softly.

Spike rose to his feet, looking his wife right in the eyes. “Goodnight, Chrysalis,” he said softly, pulling her into a gentle, but very quick hug. Without another word, he turned and walked to his side of the bed, lying down and rolling over.

Chrysalis looked at him for a few more moments before she walked off, the soft clopping of her hooves disappearing as she went into her room. As she closed the door, she looked at the still form of her husband through the smallest of cracks, a small tear forming in her eye.

“I am truly sorry, Spike,” she said. “Everything was real, and it still is.” With that, she closed the door and went to bed, a great weight having been lifted from her shoulders, only to be replaced by another, equally heavy one. It did not take long before she fell asleep, her few small tears dripping onto the pillows.

Off in the other room, the dragon the Queen of the Changelings had married had fallen asleep as well, a few tears of his own glinting in the moonlight. In his mind’s eye, he was no longer in Maredagascar, but back home.

He was surrounded by a dozen foals, all of them showing traits that could only be his. They were laughing and giggling around him as he told them a story from an old book Twilight had given him.

“-and then the elephant said: “You should see the monkey!”” Spike said with a laugh, causing giggles to erupt from all the little draconic foals around him. The littlest one, a little colt, looked up at him in confusion.

“I don’t get it,” he said.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” Spike said, his deep voice a surprise, even to himself. “Now, who wants some ice cream?”

All of his children jumped up with joy at this, rushing out of the now-messy room they had all been in. Toys, blankets, even a few small books were scattered all over the place, a testament to the rambunctious nature of his offspring. Sighing, but in a happy way, Spike picked a bit of the room up before leaving it behind. Upon entering the large kitchen, he noticed one thing immediately.

His children weren’t there. There were several large tubs of ice cream sitting on one of the tables, complete with spoons and all, but no foals. But... where could they have gone? “Kids?” he called out, hoping they hadn’t decided to play an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. The smaller ones had gotten especially good at it: it had taken him almost two hours to find them all.

But there was none of the customary giggling that followed his little fillies wherever they went, nor was there any snickering like his colts would do whenever they hid. He looked everywhere: in the cabinets, in the closets, the pantries: even in the fireplace, the favorite hiding place of his more “dragon-like” foals. They were immune to fire, after all: being part dragon definitely had its advantages.

They weren’t there either: now, he was starting to worry. Where could they have gotten to? Had they left the castle entirely? Rushing out of the main rooms and out onto the veranda, he looked around for any sign that they had gotten into the gardens.

All that greeted him was a cold silence, a deathly still that sent a chill up his spine. It was unnatural, it was foreboding, it was... punctuated by a buzzing?

It was more than a buzzing: it was a lot of buzzing, countless buzzing even. Spike looked up as something came in front of the sun. It was... it was...

“An invasion,” he gasped, seeing thousands upon thousands of changelings fluttering towards the castle. He... he had to get to the others. He had to find his children; he had to warn his wives.

As the seething cloud of buzzing ponies drew closer and closer, Spike turned and ran back inside, only to find his children all waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Hey dad,” said the youngest as he spooned himself a good sized glob of ice cream.

“Kids, we need-,” Spike began, before blinking in surprise. His children... were no longer there. They were...

“Dad, is something wrong?” one of the younger fillies asked, her multi-faceted eyes gleaming in the light as she looked up at him. Her glittering wings buzzed slightly as the dull roar that was the massive cloud of changelings outside grew closer and closer.

“No, no,” Spike said, clutching his chest as his... what were his children approached him, their dark pelts and glittering wings horrifying him. Then, they would switch, becoming what they used to look like, each change rippling across their pelts.

“Come on, dad: let’s play a game!” the smallest shouted as the roar of glittering wings filled the room. Spike fell backwards as his former-children, with fangs bared, leaped towards him, their arms outstretched with their fingers curled into what looked like claws...

“Gah!” Spike shouted, jumping up from the bed. He looked around: there was no changeling invasion, he had no children, and it was morning.

“Oh, thank Celestia,” he sighed, putting his face into his hands. “It was all a dream.”

“Spike?” a voice said. He looked up slowly from his hands to see Chrysalis in the corner. She wasn’t alone: Asalah, Trixie, and Maria were there as well, and those last three had looks that could turn a cockatrice to ice.

“Spike,” Maria repeated, her hands on her hips as she glanced over at Chrysalis. “We need to talk.”

“I know,” he said softly, pressing his palms against his forehead in preparation for what was going to be a difficult day. “I know.”

Chrysalis

Author's Notes:

Well, here it is: the discussion I've been waiting to write. Was it as good as I wanted it to be? You be the judge.