I wasn’t sure how long had passed, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that I had spent roughly three days in this bed. Since I wasn’t dead, I could easily assume that either ponies were horrible at attempting assassinations… or nopony was trying to kill me—a fact I was oddly disappointed about. It wasn’t like I was making it overly hard for them; I spent the majority of the time asleep… or drugged, as the case may be.

During the times when I was awake, I ached all over. I could not eat solid foods and instead had to rely upon the liquid love they were pumping into me via the IV. It wasn’t pure love, as I had found out, but a mixture of diluted love and changeling blood. The concoction kept a steady flow of nutrients and fluids entering my body, and was set up to prevent me from gorging too much.

During the few periods where I was conscious, I was left mostly to my own devices. Occasionally though, a member of the medical staff would visit to check on me. They didn’t tarry—just stayed long enough to inquire how I felt, change my empty lovebag with a fresh one, and brush the broken bits of chitin off the bedspread. My carapace was flaking something awful, cracking and crumbling off my body in small chunks and leaving the tender flesh beneath completely exposed.

And tender it was, as I quickly found out; the stupid nurse had been a pile of trembling, fearful flesh by the time the guards had entered. I hadn’t actually hurt her, but apparently the volume of my shout was almost on par with a certain Princess of the Night.

Besides the medical staff and the occasional guard, I saw no sign of anypony else. I was left alone for the most part except for an orange-and-red bird that would occasionally perch upon the foot of my bed and stare at me. I had tried to scare it off at first, but nothing I did seemed to faze the damn thing. Even when I chucked bits of my chitin at it, it only hopped about on its perch, avoiding the weakly thrown projectiles while continuing to stare.

It was a weird creature—one that made my remaining chitin crawl. I never saw it arrive or leave; it was either there… or it wasn’t. The medical staff never seemed overly concerned about it, so I assumed that it belonged. That, or I was the only one who could see it. After the first few times it visited, I began to ignore it.

...

Though if it kept plucking out hairs from my tail, I was going to wring its sorry little neck.

It was on the third day—or, once again I assumed it was the third day—that I found myself with a little more strength than I’d had previously. I was still weak, but I could sit up without struggling or support. My mind was also less fuzzy and it was easier to think.

Seated with my back against the headboard, I stared blankly down at the hoofboard. It was currently occupied by its normal resident. The bird watched me with its beady orange eyes, unmoving save an occasional cock of its head.

I ignored it and instead let my mind wander. The situation I found myself in was not one I had ever expected. Two weeks ago I had been deep within the dragon lands, scuttling from cave to cave in a mad search for some place safe to hide. They had chased me out, the loveless creatures blasting hot fire at me as I fled. With nowhere left to go, I had returned to my hive to await the end.

However, here I was… in Canterlot once more. Though, this was not how I planned it—how I dreamed of it. In my dreams, I was seated upon the throne, all of ponydom at my hooves. They bowed and pleaded and worshipped me—loving me. This was different, for though I might be in Canterlot, I was further from the throne than I had ever been before.

A captive of the race I had tried to enslave.

…

Oh, the delicious irony.

Truthfully, I was surprised I was even alive at this point. The ponies appeared to have given me another chance at life, something that I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful for… or laugh at their stupidity. What kind of race helps one of their enemies? Did they not know who I was?

Didn’t they know what I was capable of?

For a brief moment, a small part of me wondered what was stopping me from taking several ponies hostage and escaping the city? The Everfree Forest was close enough. I could hide within the crooked trees, drain the ponies of their love, and regain both my strength and power. The world would once again tremble at the mere mention of my name. I’d get revenge on the dragons first… the arrogant, pompous creatures. I’d show them what it felt like to be burned. We’d find out which was stronger: dragonfire or eldritch fire.

Then I’d come back to Canterlot… and all would pay.

I selfishly entertained those thoughts for a moment, a crooked smile spreading across my muzzle. The dragon lands burned, Canterlot fallen, dozens and hundreds of ponies in pods, there for me to feed upon whenever I pleased. Never again would I know hunger… never again would I have to wonder if my next meal would be my last. Love whenever I pleased. Oh… the thought of it was enough to make my mouth water.

But just as quickly as they came, the thoughts slipped away.

Sighing heavily, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall. It would do me no good. Even if I somehow managed to escape, what was the point? I had no hive or children anymore—I would be all alone. Worse, actually, as I’d be living on borrowed time as Celestia tracked me down once more to reclaim her kidnapped ponies.

Only this time, I doubted she’d be so forgiving.

There was another reason I was reluctant to try and escape. Truthfully, I was just so tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of the struggle... tired of watching everything turn to dust. It felt like ages since I had been able to rest—even before I attacked Canterlot, this exhaustion was present.

Ever present and ever heavy.

Heavy upon my head…

Absently reaching up with my left hoof, I touched the spot in my mane where my crown used to sit. I had lost it in the dragon lands as those loveless bastards blew dragonfire down upon me. It was almost bitterly poetic… after all, my reign had fallen apart, so why would I still need my crown? I was Queen Chrysalis of the changelings, yet I had no changelings left.

What was a queen without her subjects?

What was a mother without her children?

What was I without my changelings?

...

...and what was that ghastly smell?

A noxious odor tickled my nose and pulled me from my musings. Scrunching up my muzzle, I began to search for the source of the stench, only to realize with dawning horror that it was coming from me. A quick check under my foreleg with my nose confirmed: I was overly ripe.

“By the hive!” I gagged, pulling my head back. “I smell like that!?”

Well, I… I guess that was to be expected.

Truth be told, I had no idea when the last time I bathed was and was probably due for a bath. As I peered down at myself, my horror mounted as I realized the true state of my being. The remaining patches of my chitin were covered in a thick layer of dirt and ash. The grime was streaked from when they had apparently attempted to clean me up for surgery, but it did little good. Underneath my carapace, I felt almost… slimy.

I repressed a shiver.

Ugh… I need a bath immediately before this odor becomes permanent.

That thought alone was enough to stir me.

My gaze slowly drifted over to the bathroom door as an idea formed in my head. It was pretty clear I wasn’t allowed to leave the room—the guards posted outside the door day and night made that clear enough—but the bathroom wasn’t outside the room, was it? Granted, I didn’t know if this bathroom had a place to bathe oneself or not…

…

Fuck it, let’s just check and see. If anything, I could tidy up a little using the sink.

Throwing back the covers, I carefully shifted my weight about before easing myself out of the bed. It was a little difficult—what with my missing leg and all—but I managed to stand, albeit on shaky legs.

I still wasn’t used to this whole… tripod thing.

The bird watched me silently, tilting its head this way and that.

“Fuck off,” I growled, but only received a single blink for my troubles.

Tentatively, I took a few steps forward… although they were more like hops than anything else. I had to remind myself that my right foreleg wasn’t there, as I caught myself moving to put weight upon the non-existent limb. Damn that basilisk and all its spawn!

I managed to take a few more steps before I overestimated myself. Stumbling, I struggled to keep myself upright even as I swayed back and forth. My elytra and wings opened, buzzing weakly in an attempt to regain my balance. It was too much though, and I collapsed against the wall with a loud ‘bang’, creating a large depression in the drywall.

A ragged cry of pain escaped me as I landed on one of my wings, the thin membrane bending in a way it really shouldn’t have. A split second later I cried out again as another lance of pain hit me, this time from my neck. The IV—which I had completely forgotten about, hive damn it!—had been pulled free when I fell and was now oozing its glowing contents all over me and the floor.

Head spinning, neck throbbing, and wings trembling fiercely, I could do nothing but lie there in a daze. Before I had a chance to recover, the door burst open and a nurse and two guards rushed in. They glanced around the room worriedly and upon seeing me lying on the floor, one of the guards stepped forward.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked gruffly, brandishing his spear. “Trying to escape, bug?”

“No... I wasn’t,” I growled, blinking back tears of pain. Can’t let these bastards see me cry.

Unconvinced, he jabbed his spear in my face. “Then what are you doing out of bed, hmmm?”

Despite the fact that point of the spear was dancing about mere inches from my muzzle, I glared back up at the guard unflinchingly. Lifting a hoof, I weakly brushed the spear tip aside. “If you must know, pony,” I hissed. “I was trying to get to the bathroom so that I might… oh, I don’t know… take a fucking bath!?”

The venom in my voice caused the guard to take a step back. It was about that time that my stench apparently reached their noses, as the other guard and the nurse both scrunched up their muzzles in distaste.

With a huff, the nurse stepped forward, waving the guards off as she did so. “You may return to your posts, gentlecolts. I’ll take care of this.”

The one that had accosted me pawed at the floor and glared down at me.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” he grunted, “perhaps we should accompany you. Just in case she tries something.”

The nurse shot him a scathing look. “I can handle one patient by myself just fine, thank you. If she can hardly stand by herself, I doubt she’ll give me any trouble.”

“But—”

“Or are you telling me that you want to watch a mare bathe?”

That shut the guard up.

A red hue crossed his face, and he opened and closed his mouth wordlessly before bowing his head. “By your leave, ma’am.” With that, both he and his companion left, closing the door behind them and leaving me alone with the nurse.

She was a bit on the small side, as she would have barely come up to my chest if I was standing. Her coat was a rich yellow, while her curly mane and tail were dark purple, almost the color of a plum. A small horn poked forth from the curling locks of hair that fell about her forehead. Surprisingly, her cutie mark wasn’t medical related, but rather two purple hooves clasped together.

Eyeing me for a moment, she tsked softly before moving forward. “If you wanted to take a bath, you should have just used the call-nurse button. One of us would have been happy to—”

“Don’t touch me!” I hissed, slapping her hoof away as she tried to help me up. “Don’t… fucking touch me.” She flinched back, more from my words than the slap, as I was still weaker than a foal.

Wheezing, I struggle to get to my hooves. Several times my foreleg slipped out from beneath me, sending me tumbling back to the floor. Each time the nurse would step forward to help, but a hiss from me and she kept her distance.

Eventually I managed to stand up again. Leaning heavily against the wall, I struggled to catch my breath. My chest was tight, and my vision swam as I rasped loudly. By the hive… I’m utterly pathetic...

Apparently losing one hoof was all it took to send me crashing to my knees. I prayed to the All Mother that my predecessors couldn’t see me now, for they would no doubt be ashamed of how far I had dragged the name of ‘Chrysalis’ through the mud.

As I stewed in self-loathing, the nurse eyed me worriedly, but kept her distance. “Ma’am, if you’d just let me help...”

“I don’t need… your help,” I growled weakly.

“Ma’am, I must insist,” she said, taking a step forward. “You’re in no shape to be moving around on your own. You could aggravate your wounds even more.”

“I don’t need your help,” I repeated with a little more force. “I am Chrysalis! Queen of the Changelings! I don’t need help… from some pathetic… pony!” Even as I said them, the words felt hollow. The truth was, I had already accepted help from these ponies. They had patched me up, given me a bed, and had even provided me with a bag of love. I would be dead right now if it hadn’t been for them.

Whether I liked it or not, I was indebted to the very race I had tried to enslave.

Oh, the sweet, delicious irony…

The mare was quiet for a moment before replying. “That might be, but I am Honest Practice, member of the Royal Healers, and here, in this room, I’m in charge.” She glared up at me, her eyes twinkling with determination. “It’s my job to make sure you recover, and right now your stubbornness is preventing me from doing just that.” Taking another step forward, she stood practically muzzle to muzzle with me—though she had to stand on tiphoof in order to do so.

“So once again, your majesty,” she continued, “if you’d just let me help you, this would go a lot more smoothly!”

Silence fell over the room, broken only by my ragged breathing as I stared down at the mare with wide eyes. I had to give her credit; she certainly had some ovaries of steel. It wasn’t often that I met a creature that was brave enough—or stupid enough—to stand up to me like that. Granted, I was probably about as frightening as a newborn at the moment, but still...

Grudgingly, I averted my eyes from hers and instead stared ahead at my destination—so close, yet so far out of reach. No longer receiving a steady supply of drug-laced love, my senses were slowly beginning to return. I could just faintly sense the mare’s determination and annoyance, but also a small amount of... worry?

She was worried… for me?

Why?
…

Ponies really are strange, strange creatures.

Also, the taste of her worry was too much for me at the moment. After not having anything to eat emotional-wise for a long time, the sudden wave of sour caused my stomach to twist about. If it wasn’t rectified soon…

...

I was silent for a long moment before sighing. “Fine… help me if you must, but be quick about it.”

The mare was still for a moment before a wave of jollity wafted off her, causing me to wince. A small smile appeared on her muzzle, and she trotted forward cautiously.

“Hold still a moment, please,” she said as her horn lit up. She picked up the discarded IV and, without missing a beat, swapped out the used port with a fresh one. With that, she gently inserted it back in the vein just behind my jaw.

Immediately, a cool sensation spread throughout my neck and shoulders, and I sighed softly in relief. Oh… that feels nice. I hadn’t realized how much comfort that lovebag had brought until just now.

“There we go,” the mare—Honest Practice—hummed. Peeling the tape of the adhesive on the back of the lovebag, she stuck it in the middle of my shoulder blades. “All hooked up again. Now, you said you wanted to take a bath?”

“That would be most agreeable, yes,” I huffed. As she moved to support me, I waved her off. “No, I can walk on my own! If you must help, go start the water.”

She gave me a skeptical look but did as commanded.

I waited until I heard running water in the next room before I moved. Still leaning against the wall, I limped along slowly, my carapace scraping against the drywall, leaving a streak of broken chitin and dirt behind as I went. The lovebag sloshed about with my movements, but the adhesive kept it stuck against my chipping shell.

Honest Practice was seated on the edge of the tub as I entered the bathroom, a hoof in the water to test the temperature. She hummed tunelessly to herself as she sloshed the hoof about. At my arrival, she gave a start, almost falling from her perch. She gave me a sidelong look before returning to stirring the water.

The water…

Nothing had looked so inviting in all my life as that water did at that particular moment. Steam wafted lazily off its surface, curling about through the air before disappearing. The gentle sound of splashing filled the room as the nurse continued to tend to the tub.

I stood in the doorway for a moment, enjoying the sight and sound, before moving forward. Before I could reach the tub though, the mirror above the sink caught my attention—or rather, my reflection did.

What the…?

Changing my course, I limped over to the sink and peered into the mirror.

An almost alien face stared back at me.

What did they do to me?

My lustrous mane—my secret pride and joy—had been hacked and torn to shreds. Where once it had cascaded down to my chest and about my shoulders in long, soft locks, it now barely reached my neck. What little remained of it was in disarray, sticking out in all directions in a rat’s nest of dark cerulean. Likewise, my tail had been shortened as well, no longer trailing along the ground but now instead barely covering… well, anything at all.

As my eyes drift over my thoroughly-destroyed mane, anger began to well up in my chest. While not exactly a vain individual, it was still my mane. My mane, which I took time and care—and what little mane care products we could get out in the badlands—to get looking exactly how I liked. Few things were more relaxing than sitting down after a long, stressful day and being allowed to brush my mane and tail.

And the ponies had taken even that little pleasure from me.

“What... did you do to my mane?” I croaked out.

Honest Practice paused in her stirring of the bathwater. “Hmmm? Oh, well… you see. When we were tending to you and your injuries, it was discovered that your mane and tail were infested with lice, fleas, and ticks and we had to act accordingly. We tried to keep as much as possible, but… well, it was pretty bad.”

As she went back to tending to the bath, I continued to stare at my reflection. My eyes were drawn to a white feather placed behind one of my tattered ears. Leaning against the counter, I reached up and plucked it free.

“Wha…? Where did this come from?” I breathed, giving the feather a confused look. For a moment, I contemplated turning it to ash, but I currently lacked the necessary energy to perform the required spell. So instead, I tossed it into the sink and went back to studying my appearance.

Little details I didn’t initially notice started to make themselves known. The soft skin beneath my eyes—usually the same color as my chitin—was now a darker shade of gray, practically black. There were several sutures in the corners of my mouth, the staples holding the cracked chitin together and preventing my jaw from opening farther than it normally would. There was also a bandage wrapped around the stump where my right foreleg used to be. Dried blood blotched the white bandage, staining it deep emerald green.

My face, once so familiar, was strangely foreign now.

…

Who… who are you, hmmm? I asked myself. This wasn’t the proud face that was supposed to represent Chrysalis. Gone was the smug grin, gone were the energetic, glowing green eyes, gone were the powerful air and rigid stance.

Instead, somepony else stared back at me. Not a ruler… not a queen.

Not Chrysalis.

Just an exhausted mare.

Too long...

I continued to gaze at my reflection until the sound of running water ceased. Quickly, I hardened my expression before pushing myself off the counter. As I turned, Honest Practice moved beside me. Her horn lit up, and a soft glow surrounded the bandages about my right shoulder—a water repellent spell, if I had to hazard a guess.

“Let’s get you in the tub then, shall we?” she asked.

“I don’t…” I began, only to realize that it would be rather difficult to get into the bath by myself with only three legs, especially in my current weakened state. Biting back my anger, I grudgingly permitted the mare to help me. She had me lean upon her as she guided me into the tub.

As I gingerly climbed over the lip of the tub, I grumbled softly under my breath at the indignity of the action... only for the sound to turn into a long, drawn-out purr as I sank into sweet heated bliss. The water was warm and felt amazing as it seeped beneath my carapace and cracked chitin.

As I slipped deeper into the water, the nurse’s horn lit up and she removed the lovebag from my shoulder blades and instead stuck it on the wall above the tub. It was about three-fourths empty now, but that was due in part to it leaking everywhere earlier.

“Hmmm, I’ll have to get you some more love, it seems,” Honest Practice said, eyeing the lovebag. “I’ll take care of that after we get you washed up.”

“Mmmm, no,” I mumbled. “No… do it now.”

She paused while filling up a basin from the sink, a sponge suspended in her magic. “I… I can’t just leave you here by yourself.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, a tinge of annoyance creeping back into my voice.

“But I need to...”

“Are you insinuating that I can’t care for myself?” I asked, lolling my head about to glare at her. “I may be injured… I may be crippled… but I’m fully capable of washing myself. Now, be a good little pony and get more love.”

“B-but what if you fall asleep and…?”

I let out a barking laugh that caused my chest to twinge in pain. “And what? Drown myself in the bath? What kind of invalid do you take me for?”

“I w-wasn’t—”

“Go get the love,” I repeated.

She hesitated for a moment, but then did as instructed. Placing the basin down on the counter, she laid the sponge beside it before moving out of the room. A moment later I heard the door to the main room open and close, and then silence fell.

Letting out a low sigh, I settled back in the bath. The tub was surprisingly large and I could stretch out completely with very little difficulty. Water lapped gently at my neck and shoulders, the feeling sending shivers down my spine. A faint hint of vanilla was present, no doubt the nurse had put some form of scented… something in the bath. The aroma was relaxing, as well as somewhat... familiar? Where have I smelled this before? It tickled my nose as well as my memories, yet I couldn’t place where I had smelled the scent recently.

I mused upon it for a few more minutes before putting it from my mind. Instead, I closed my eyes, rested the back of my head against the lip of the tub, and began to enjoy my much-needed soak.

Time lost all meaning as I dozed there, immersed in the heated water. At some point Honest Practice returned and changed out the lovebag, using her magic to adjust my limp head and neck into a better position to access the IV port. Once the new bag was in place, she proceeded to drain the tub, to my annoyance. Before I could voice a complaint though, she was filling it again with fresh, clean water. It didn’t stay that way though, quickly darkening as the dirt, dust, ash, and love that clung to my chitin fell off.

Oh… that’s… that’s rather disgusting, actually.

Twice more she filled and empty the tub until all the excess dirt and ash had been soaked off. Cutting off the water one last time, she checked if I was still comfortable, if I felt any pain—any discomfort—or if I wanted to get out. I just lifted a hoof and lazily waved at her in response before slipping further into the water, letting the heat claim me once more.

I didn’t hear her reply, but she left the bathroom a few minutes later.

Once more I drifted on the edge of consciousness, dozing contently as my chitin soaked up the heat from the water around me. It had been too long since I was last able to enjoy something like this. Warm water, love in my system, no dragons or diamond dogs or griffons or minotaurs trying to kill me…

...aaah, bliss.

…

I wasn’t sure how long I laid there before I heard the sound of movement again. There was the soft murmur of voices before the door in the other room opened and closed. For a moment silence fell again but was broken by soft hoofsteps. My ear flicked in time with the ‘clip-clop’s as the pony approached the bathroom.

They paused in the doorway, but I refused to open my eyes. The water was still warm and I was still enjoying it. I didn’t care if it was the nurse, a doctor, or a guard. If they wanted me to get out of the tub… well, they could wait until I was finished. I might have been injured, but my fangs were still as sharp as daggers and I could still bite… I think.

…

Actually, my jaw was still fucking sore.

Well, I could always gnaw on them... gingerly. That might be a little uncomfortable for them, right?

Whoever it was, it soon became clear they weren’t here to remove me from my heated heaven. They watched me from the doorway for a few more minutes before slowly making their way further into the room. My ear followed them as they made their way around until they were right behind my head.

The brief thought of this being an assassin crossed my mind, but no alarm came. I was warm… I was comfortable… and I was sleepy. If this was how Celestia wanted me killed, so be it.

The soft chime of magic came, but instead of a knife plunging into my neck, a soft thunk sounded beside my head, followed by the gentle sloshing of water. A moment later, something soft brushed against my chest, rubbing carefully over my cracked carapace.

A confused frown touched my face, and I cracked an eye open and glanced down only to see a sponge suspended in a golden aura was currently washing my chitin. After a moment, it lifted into the air and wrung itself out over the small basin the nurse had filled up earlier, which was now resting on the lip of the tub. The sponge was dipped in the water once more before returning to the task of cleaning me. This time it ran gingerly about my shoulders and lower neck, being mindful of my injuries.

I leaned my head back as the sponge ran over my throat, a low hum escaping me before I could stop it. The sponge froze for a moment, to which I whined softly, prompting it to continue its trek across my chitin. The feeling was oddly comforting, and I found my eyes slowly beginning to droop once more. However, before I could drift off to sleep, a warm weight settled on top of my head, and the scent of vanilla grew stronger. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a hint of rainbow-colored mane wafting in a nonexistent breeze.

Celestia…?

Upon realizing who was currently washing me, I stiffened, my eyes shooting open. This earned an annoyed huff from the alicorn currently using the top of my head as a pillow, and she pulled away. She had paused washing me, but now resumed, the sponge moving gently over my body as she tried to get me to relax again.

After a moment, she began to hum softly as she scrubbed.

I sat there, confused and somewhat perturbed. Never before had somepony treated me like this before, not even my own changelings. The gentleness, the caring, the comfort—all this from the ruler of a nation I had attacked not once, not twice, but multiple times. Yet, here I was at her mercy and instead of executing me like any other nation’s ruler would do… she was bathing me?

…

What was going on?

My confusion continued to grow as more time passed. Celestia went about her task—quite happily, in fact. She lifted my left foreleg to wash beneath it, only to then wash along the limb’s length, taking extra care to make sure my holes and hooves were taken care off. As she levitated the sponge about, her hooves made quick work of my shortened mane. Shampoo and conditioner were gingerly scrubbed into my scalp, only to be rinsed out a moment later by a gentle deluge of water.

In no time at all, I was cleaner than I had been in ages. My chitin was still scuffed and dull, but it was no longer covered in dust and dirt and ash. My mane and tail, though still a ragged mess, had both been shampooed. Celestia was currently working on brushing out my mane, and even though my senses were muddled, I could still feel the contentment trickling from her.

She was enjoying this…

…

Well, I was too… b-but that was beside the point.

Unable to stand it anymore, I finally spoke up.

“I don’t understand you.” The words were soft and raspy, but they still caught her attention. She paused in her brushing, and her humming ceased as she waited to see if I’d say anything else.

I did.

“Anypony else would have killed me already,” I mumbled, “yet you’ve fed me… cared for me… staved off death for me. I have attacked your city, defeated you and your sister several times, foalnapped your subjects.” She started brushing my mane again, and I had to pause to stop a low purr escaping.

When I had regained my composure, I continued. “I have done nothing to deserve this… so why do you continue to care for me? The only thing I can think of is you want something that only I can give… but what it is I cannot fathom. What could you possibly gain from all this?” Shifting my head about, I glanced back at her with one eye. “What… what are you planning for me, Celestia?”

Pausing in her brushing, she was silent for a long moment before a small smile—almost nervous in nature—crossed her muzzle. Leaning down, she whispered tentatively in my ear.

“I have something to show you.”

Author's Note