Ocellate

It all clicked into place, and Ocellus shrank back a little at the realisation. She’d been scared before, but now her legs shook fiercely, fear rooting her in place as panic sunk its sharp teeth into her. “Chrysalis,” she breathed.

“Oh, very perceptive, little bug,” murmured the darkness. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

“What did you do to Thrips?” she demanded.

For the first time, there was a moment of uncertainty before Chrysalis spoke from the shadows she still lurked in. “What’s a ‘Thrips’?”

“The drone I was with. If you hurt him-”

“You remember the names of your drones?”

“Of course I do,” said Ocellus, trying to ignore the fact she’d forgotten Thrips’ back at the hive.

“Pointlessness,” Chrysalis scoffed. “Knowing his name didn’t save him. And if you can’t protect a single drone, how could you ever protect an entire hive?”

Another pang of guilt for Thrips’ fate, but how could Ocellus possibly have known what was waiting out here? Or whom. “Maybe I don’t want to protect the hive,” she muttered. “Maybe I don’t want to be queen.”

“How rich,” the shadows drawled. “Blessed with the most powerful heritage in Equestria, and you don’t want it? I’m so disappointed in you, little bug – you take too much after your father.”

“No, I don’t,” Ocellus insisted. “That’s the problem.”

“Oh? And is that why you’re all the way out here, fleeing from your mate on your own maiden flight?”

Ocellus almost dropped to her hindquarters in surprise. “You know about that?”

“I still have some sympathisers in my old hive, after all. More than you would imagine. I’ve heard all about your argument with the false king, and your sudden change of heart.” The glinting grin returned. “Or not so changed, it seems.”

“He wants me to start living up to my duty,” Ocellus muttered.

“Duty? You are a queen, daughter. You do not have duties.”

“I need to keep the hive strong. I need to…” Ocellus hesitated. “Breed,” she finished, quietly.

“Little bug, you don’t understand. The hive is your hive. The drones are your drones. They need you far more than you need them, and they know it.”

Chrysalis’ eyes glowed in the darkness, piercing green.

“They’ve collared you,” the old queen said. “Put you on a leash, shackled you with words like ‘responsibility’ and ‘duty’. Your father knows how much they need you, and he can’t afford to have you realise it, too. So he’s kept you complacent, obedient.” Chrysalis’ voice lowered to an outraged snarl. “He hasn’t even given you your throne.”

“He will, when I’m older.”

“When he knows you’ll do exactly what he wants. When he knows you’ve truly forgotten what you are, what you were born to be.”

Chrysalis finally stepped out from between the trees – as tall and imposing as Ocellus had always imagined her: jet black chitin, pitted legs, a viciously curved horn that seemed almost sword-like. And yet there was a lithe gracefulness in her movements Ocellus would never have expected. She’d heard of Chrysalis’ cruelty and strength, but there was so much more to her than that. She moved with such confidence and surety, exuding an air of pure royalty that Thorax had never come close to managing. Ocellus understood now why Chrysalis had called him a false king.

Chrysalis reached out, and Ocellus flinched, until Chrysalis placed her hoof so gently beneath Ocellus’ chin, lifting it to look her in the eyes. “You are my daughter,” Chrysalis purred, “and you are so much more than the eggs you will bear. You are the changelings, you are the hive.” She was leaning in so close now, as Ocellus stared at her, transfixed. “You are the queen.”

***

“Something’s wrong.” Thorax drummed his hooves against the arms of the throne, as he stared up at the dwindling moonlight and waited. They should have been back by now.

“I told you to let me go with them,” said Pharynx. “An armed detail should have-”

“Please, Pharynx, don’t you think a first time is difficult enough? The last thing Ocellus needed was a regiment of guards watching her.”

Pharynx shrugged. “They could have turned their backs.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Chrysalis never cared about an audience.”

Thorax’s tone grew icy cold. “My daughter isn’t Chrysalis, and you should be as thankful of that as I am.”

Pharynx realised he’d overstepped, bowing his head low in deference. “Of course, my king. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. For now, let’s worry about finding Ocellus. We don’t even know which direction they went in, so we might have to send several patrols. Can you organise that?”

There was a slight shift in Pharynx’s expression. Thorax knew that look – he’d seen it so many times when they were growing up it would be surprising if he didn’t. His brother was hiding something from him.

“What is it?”

“My king?”

“This isn’t the time to be playing games, Pharynx. What haven’t you told me?”

Pharynx wrestled with his conscience for a moment longer, and then: “I knew you wouldn’t approve, but in lieu of a guard detail, I arranged a tracking spell for Thrips before the flight. It’ll lead us right to them.”

Silence lingered in the hall.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” asked Thorax.

“Not if I didn’t need to.”

Thorax took a deep breath. “We’ll discuss this later. For now, is that spell still working? Can you find them?”

“We can.”

“Then do it.”

Pharynx nodded, then gave an authoritative whistle and was quickly joined by several drones, standing smartly to attention. Despite his deception, Pharynx did have the best interests of the hive at heart, and Thorax would always respect that even if they disagreed about his methods.

Especially if those methods involved secrets.

“Oh, and Pharynx?”

Pharynx hesitated, wings outstretched. “Yes?”

“I’m coming with you.”

***

The dirt was cold against Ocellus’ chitin as she sat in the darkness, Chrysalis’ words spiralling through her head. “Why did you do it?” she asked.

“Do what, little bug?”

“Dad told me what happened, how you tricked him so you could escape.”

“You would have had me stay as an obedient prisoner? That’s no place for a queen. I saw my chance at freedom and I took it, and I won’t apologise for that.”

Ocellus shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Why did you leave me there? You didn’t have to anymore, why did you give the changelings another queen?”

Chrysalis took a moment before answering, slowly circling the clearing’s periphery. “A hive without a queen is doomed,” she said.

“So? Why would you care about that? I thought you hated us.”

Chrysalis laughed softly, but there was a tinge of sadness there that Ocellus wasn’t expecting. It felt more truthful than the laugh. “Do they paint me as a monster, little bug? Am I horror stories and nightmares? The cruel despot, the tyrant queen?”

Ocellus didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. Chrysalis must have already known it was all true.

“Do you know what the difference between history and propaganda is?” Chrysalis grinned again, without a hint of humour. “Motivation. It’s so much easier for them if I’m the monster they want me to be, but the truth is that I always cared for my changelings. I always protected them, brought them all the love they could ever feast on. I gave them Equestria, and I was repaid with betrayal and exile.”

“That’s not true,” Ocellus insisted. “You could have transformed, too. You could have changed.”

“To what end? To be servile to ponies? To be pretty, unthreatening colours so we aren’t hunted down and destroyed like Celestia always wanted? We are changelings, we don’t live in fear. We don’t bow to ponies.”

“No one’s had to bow. The ponies leave us alone.”

“Do they? No appeasements, no offerings?”

Chrysalis’ smile widened, as if she knew exactly what Ocellus was thinking, what she was remembering. The School of Friendship, how she’d felt like a token of goodwill, a political pawn. And why? So that Thorax could show the ponies that changelings could be trusted now.

“There it is,” purred Chrysalis. “The ponies don’t know how to leave things alone – it’s not in their nature. Their instinct is to be scared of us, to fear us and hate us, just as all prey fears its predators.”

Ocellus shook her head vigorously, both to disagree and to dislodge the unwelcome memories. “I have pony friends,” she said. “They’re not scared of me, or what I am.”

“Your friends are not Princess Celestia,” Chrysalis sneered. “There will be more demands, more requirements. Sanctions. Rules. As soon as you start making drones, that old fear will rise up again. Can you not see how it will make them uneasy when you begin to live up to your title? They won’t have forgotten all that I accomplished, and they will expect nothing less from you.”

This was a trick. Ocellus knew that, knew that it had to be. Chrysalis was clever, and evil, and there was no way this was anything but some kind of ploy.

But…

There was that nagging voice at the back of her mind. Everything Chrysalis had said so far had been true. Thorax had wanted to use her – his own daughter – for political gain. She was a tool to him, and everything he’d done had only proved that. She’d been offered as proof of their submission to the ponies, a way to get them used to the idea of a queen. A token of trust. A bargaining chip.

Chrysalis hadn’t been responsible for that. She hadn’t made Thorax give her over to the ponies, hadn’t made her bend over for a drone so Ocellus could lay eggs forever either. Those were all things Thorax had done on his own. He’d told her it was all for the good of the changelings, for the hive, that it was her Responsibility, but she was beginning to wonder. Maybe it was for his own good instead.

“Even if you’re right,” she whispered, “what am I supposed to do about it?”

Chrysalis closed the distance and did something Ocellus never expected. She pulled the little changeling into a tight embrace, holding her close against her warm chitin. “Take your rightful place,” Chrysalis murmured. “Rise to your throne, throw off your chains. Be the queen you were born to be.”

“You mean… usurp Thorax?”

“Usurp? Daughter, the throne is already yours. There is nothing to usurp.”

“I could never do that,” said Ocellus. “He’s my father, and-”

“And he has done nothing for you but deny you what you’re owed. Do you want to be a subservient little bug your entire life? Doing what daddy tells you, letting as many drones fuck you and breed you as he wants, all so he can placate the changelings and stay in power?”

“N-no,” Ocellus replied, flinching a little at Chrysalis’ harsh language.

“Because that’s what he wants. That’s the life Thorax is sentencing you to, and it’s no life for a queen. A queen mates when she wants to, a queen does what she wills. A queen answers to nobody but herself, and the hive obeys. The hive always obeys.”

“I…”

“You want to be free, don’t you? The power to be truly yourself, no commitment to anyone else. Isn’t that why you’re out here? You were running away.”

Ocellus blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Why else would you be fleeing from your mate? But you don’t have to run or hide. You can have all that freedom you so desperately want, and an army of loyal drones at your side. And we both know a queen needs her freedom, it’s who we are. Once you get a taste of the power that comes with it, you’ll know you chose well. You’ll know it’s where you belong.”

“And what about Thorax?”

Chrysalis shrugged. “Imprison him, exile him, eat him. The choice is yours. But you can’t keep him; he’s too dangerous. He’ll undermine you, steal your hive out from beneath you, just like he did to me. He’s a grub, and they’re all too good at burrowing under foundations if you let them.”

“I couldn’t do that to him,” said Ocellus. “He’s still my father, even if he hasn’t always been great at it. I still love him.”

“Love? Please. The only love a queen needs is food. If you want your birthright and your freedom there’s no room for sentimentality. Thorax has denied you everything. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy. Or your love.”

“That’s enough,” came a new voice, cutting harshly across the clearing so suddenly that Ocellus jumped in Chrysalis’ hooves.

From between the trees emerged Thorax, flanked by Pharynx and several other drones, shuffling nervously as the old queen snarled at them, their horns alight in anticipation and fear.

“The false king himself,” drawled Chrysalis. “I wondered if you’d have the guts to make an appearance.”

“Let her go,” Thorax said, and his voice was colder than Ocellus had ever heard it before, although there was still that tremor of nervousness undercutting each of his words. “We have the whole clearing surrounded, but we’ll let you leave in peace if you just give us Ocellus.”

“More deals. You’re very fond of making them, aren’t you, grub?”

“And you’re very good at breaking them,” said Thorax.

“Are you really still bitter about my deception? I told you, it’s all a game. You simply forgot you were still playing.”

Ocellus saw a small pang of something flash across Thorax’s face. Anger? She didn’t think she’d ever seen Thorax actually angry before. Mostly he was just nervous, but while he was still obviously scared tonight Thorax stared down his old adversary without ever looking away.

Chrysalis leaned down to mutter in Ocellus’ ear, and all the gathered drones tensed instinctively.

“Ask him the question,” Chrysalis said. “The one you’re wondering about.”

How did she know? Maybe Chrysalis was thinking the same thing, or maybe she was just that good at knowing what changelings were thinking. She supposed that was something a queen as feared as Chrysalis would be quite good at. Either way, Chrysalis was right – something nagged at Ocellus, despite the tension hanging in the air. It seemed small and unimportant, but…

“How did you find me?” she asked.

A flicker of panic over Thorax’s features. “Now’s not the time. We can talk about it later.”

“Your queen asked you a question, drone,” growled Chrysalis. “Or does your daughter not deserve the truth?”

“That’s not going to work, Chrysalis,” said Thorax. “You’re not going to pit us against each other.”

Chrysalis shrugged. “I don’t need to. Your refusal says more than I ever could.”

Ocellus glanced back and forth between her parents with a nervous frown. They knew something she didn’t. “Dad?” she asked, and he winced.

“I… We’ll talk at home.”

“We can talk now,” said Ocellus, more firmly than she’d ever spoken to him. She could feel that power that Chrysalis had talked about, a deep stirring down in her chest that added some kind of resonance to her words, giving them a weight that had never been there before.

“Tell her, grub,” Chrysalis ordered. “Or I will.”

“There was a tracking spell on Thrips,” Thorax said, slowly, struggling to look her in the eyes.

“Wh-what?” The weight in Ocellus’ voice vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by hurt confusion. “You were tracking us? The whole time?”

“I didn’t know about it, Pharynx put it there.” Thorax ignored the dismissive grunt from Pharynx beside him. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have-”

“Why would you do that?” The outrage that had been smouldering in Ocellus since her father called her back to the hive caught fire at last, fuelled both by Chrysalis’ words and Thorax’s newest betrayal of trust. She barely even heard his protests as she pulled herself free of her mother’s grip to better admonish him. “Were you planning on following us? Making sure I mated with him after all, that I did what you told me?”

“No, of course I wasn’t,” Thorax said, but she didn’t hear any conviction in it.

“You still don’t trust me! After everything I’ve already done for the hive, after everything you made me give up. After sending me so far away from home just so you could look good for the ponies.”

Thorax blinked. “What? That’s not why I-”

“Shut up!” Ocellus’ voice cracked a little as she shouted at him, and for the first time Thorax actually listened to her, dropping into stunned silence. “You’ve always got an excuse. It’s always necessary. It’s always my responsibility. But it’s always just what you want. You never listen to me, or care what I think.”

“Ocellus, please,” Thorax begged. “This is exactly what Chrysalis wants.”

“You’re still not listening.” That weight was back, and all the gathered drones could hear it too; she wasn’t just imagining it. They all flinched a little, some of them even taking a small step back. “You’re just making this someone else’s fault again. It’s never yours, it’s always just how things are, how they have to be.” Tears were stinging the edges of Ocellus’ eyes again. “But Chrysalis isn’t to blame for everything you did. I was already running away before she even showed up.”

Thorax’s expression changed. There had been concern, and confusion, and worry. But when Ocellus told him that, all of that melted away into heartbroken disbelief. “You were running away?” he asked, quietly, as if he couldn’t even believe the words were coming out.

“Is that really surprising? After everything you wanted me to do?”

“I just… I was only trying to save the hive.”

“You were only trying to keep her to heel,” Chrysalis said, hissing with disgust. “Even after my imprisonment, you still haven’t learned. You can’t make a queen bow to you. We’re not like drones – we don’t take well to orders.”

Chrysalis strode forward beside Ocellus, and all the drones cowered instinctively at her approach. The sight gave Ocellus a moment of pause; she hadn’t ever seen the changelings as scared of anyone as they were of Chrysalis.

“And Ocellus is a queen,” Chrysalis purred, running a hoof reassuringly down her back. “She always was. You can’t control her anymore, and she’ll be taking the hive that she’s owed. If you’re lucky, she may even let you live.”

Thorax was silent, and Chrysalis’ smile faltered a little at that, tinged with disappointment.

“Well, grub?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to grovel? Beg for forgiveness? Confess your temerity?”

Thorax barely even glanced at her, and Chrysalis growled low in her throat. He didn’t respond to that either, fixated entirely on Ocellus instead.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, in barely more than a whisper. “You’re right. I should have seen this coming, I shouldn’t have put you up to this.”

Ocellus felt Chrysalis’ grip on her shoulder tighten, almost painfully so.

“If you really want the hive, it’s yours,” he continued, but then his words took on a harder edge, scowling at the old queen. “But you are not Chrysalis. Don’t let her get in your head, you’re better than she is. I know you are.”

“Oh, please,” Chrysalis said, rolling her eyes. “You keep the little bug’s birthright from her, I encourage her to take what’s rightfully hers, and I’m the monster?”

“You don’t know how to be anything else.”

“You see?” Chrysalis asked, turning her attention back to Ocellus. “This is what he thinks of queens. This is why he hates you, Ocellus, and why he’ll never give up his power to you willingly. He can’t see past his own preconceptions. Every time he looks at you he sees me, he sees my deception, he sees a night he regrets.”

“That’s not true,” Thorax insisted. “That’s only what I think of you. Ocellus is a better changeling than you’ve ever been.”

“Why, because you forced her to transform? Because you made her fit your pitiful ‘reformation’? Having bright colours won’t change who we are. We’re changelings, we’re queens. Changelings take. Changelings feed.” The corners of Chrysalis’ mouth twisted in a vicious snarl. “We don’t share.”

“That’s not it,” said Thorax. “Ocellus is better than you because she knows you’re wrong.”

“Is that so, little bug?” Chrysalis asked Ocellus, her voice silky smooth again. “Am I wrong? Or can you feel it too, deep inside? That hunger, gnawing at you, eating you inside out. The one that only queens understand, the one that only power and stolen love can satiate.”

“I…” Ocellus hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do, daughter. I know you do. I saw it, just now, and you felt it too. You might not even have known it was there until tonight, but now you’ve found it you’ll never be able to let it go again. And unlike your father, I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed of. I’m not trying to bury who you are. A queen should be celebrated, not admonished.”

Ocellus searched for that power she’d felt inside earlier, lingering, lurking. Just as Chrysalis said, it wasn’t hard to find, as if it had just been waiting to be discovered, eager to be pulled to the forefront from where she’d unknowingly hidden it. Was this what Thorax had been afraid of, what he’d tried to keep her from? All his warnings, all his talk of duty – a lie, to keep her from finding herself. She could have been like this all along, never worrying about Responsibility. It was everyone else who had duties, not her. Everyone else was supposed to serve her, bow to her. Ocellus’ drones, Ocellus’ hive, Ocellus’ kingdom.

“Why?” she asked Thorax, and she could feel that reverberation again, the one that made the air electric, the one that made the drones shrink back just from her words. For the first time, Ocellus felt like the royalty she was. “Why did you hide this from me?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you want me to be queen?”

“This isn’t being a queen, Ocellus,” Thorax said, although she could see him quivering, shaking from the sheer force in her voice. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You’re still trying to stop me,” she shouted, and she could feel a crackling sensation begin to crawl across her chitin. She ignored it. “You still don’t care what I think, you still think you’re better than me. You’re still scared of me.”

Thorax’s quivering stopped. “No,” he said. “You’re my daughter. I could never be scared of you.”

Her scowl deepened. “Maybe you should be.”

The surrounding drones were staring at her now, wide-eyed, glancing nervously amongst themselves. She didn’t know why, at first, not until that crackling feeling stopped, and she glanced down as it vanished at the tips of her hooves.

They were jet black, just like the rest of her.

Her pale blue exterior was gone, not even a trace of it left as her new, dark carapace gleamed in what little moonlight reached the clearing. A hot burn ripped through her legs, and she gritted her teeth in pain as divots began to form in her chitin, deepening and then sinking right through, leaving her legs pocked with holes. A wave of apprehension rolled over her as she remembered the caverns beneath the school, how sick she had felt when she looked down and saw Chrysalis’ hooves instead of her own, how terrified she’d been when she couldn’t change back.

But that was then, and this was different. She wasn’t afraid of Chrysalis anymore. Ocellus was a queen, too, and at worst Chrysalis was an equal. Someone who should be just as scared of Ocellus as the other way around. And as for her mother being a monster?

She’d believed the stories, whole-heartedly. She’d had no reason not to, and so whatever Thorax had told her she’d accepted. She’d swallowed down his lies and assertions, and never even thought to question them. Ocellus had always done what she was told, believed what she was supposed to believe. Until tonight.

But if he’d kept the truth of queenhood from her in an attempt to keep her docile, what else had he lied about? What else had the drones kept from her, from their queen? Maybe Chrysalis wasn’t to blame, maybe the drones had been wrong the whole time, and maybe they knew it. Maybe the entire thing had been a fabrication to keep Ocellus in line so they could reap all the benefits of a queen without having to bow to her.

Like they were supposed to.

But she understood now, newfound power coursing through her body as her transformation completed. Her snake-like tongue flitted out between long, sharp fangs, jutting out menacingly from her jaw. Was she taller? She felt taller, but perhaps that was just because the drones were shrinking down in front of her. Maybe that amounted to the same thing.

She could taste their emotions now. All changelings could, of course, but it had never felt so distinct, so clear. So strong. The sharp pangs of their fear and trepidation, mixed with lighter hints of respect and even reverence. They recognised her now for exactly who she was, who she had always been. They recognised their queen, and that subtle tinge of devotion and loyalty was already beginning to swell within them. Drones were easy, drones were predisposed to serve.

Drones were supposed to serve.

Another gentle caress against her back as Chrysalis admired Ocellus’ new form. Her wings had lengthened, too, and as she stretched them wide she could see familiar tears and holes through them that hadn’t been there before, dark pits in their glimmering iridescence.

“You look beautiful, daughter,” Chrysalis purred. “Befitting of a queen.”

Despite all her changes, a faint blush rose in Ocellus’ cheeks at that. She didn’t think anyone had ever called her beautiful. She knew the drones wanted her, of course, but that felt like pure necessity. Instinct. They wanted to breed, so of course they wanted her. But Chrysalis didn’t have that bias, and so her compliment felt all the more genuine.

No she’s a liar she’s using you stop listening to her

The thoughts surged up from within, somewhere deep down that Ocellus had locked away as she transformed. She shook them off again, like water off her back. That was the old her – the scared Ocellus, the Ocellus that ran away and hid and cried and lamented her station when she should have celebrated it. She didn’t need to be like that anymore, not now. She was no longer ‘little bug’.

“Ocellus, please,” Thorax begged, his voice fraught. “This isn’t-”

“What did you call me?” she demanded, whirling on him.

“I don’t-”

“I am your queen. Don’t you dare address me without my title again.”

“Ocellus, listen to yourself. You’re better than this. You’re stronger than this.”

Yes he’s right listen to what he says we can still beat this it’s not too late to change back

Ocellus’ eyes narrowed as she advanced on Thorax. All around him the drones stumbled back, even Pharynx, but Thorax stood firm. He was supposed to be scared, he was supposed to submit. But instead the false king just looked heartbroken.

“Say it one more time, drone,” she hissed, close enough that her forehead almost butted against his. “All my life you’ve kept my title from me, father. But I’ve taken it back anyway, and now you’ll pay me the respect I’m owed. Kneel,” she commanded, “and call me Queen.”

Thorax didn’t even blink. “You’ll always be Ocellus to me,” he said. “No matter what, even if I’ve failed you. You’ll always be my daughter.”

With a snarl of anger, before she was even really aware of what she was doing, Ocellus’ horn burst alight, a flare of green in the darkness. Thorax crumpled as her magic enveloped him, collapsing to the ground before her, shivering and grunting in pain as she began to tear the love from him.

Behind her, Chrysalis cackled. “Yes, daughter. Give the grub the ending he deserves.”

Ocellus barely even heard her. She was too busy eating, devouring, taking everything her father had kept from her, everything she was entitled to. But more than that, she was searching, tasting. Every fragment of love she pulled from him carefully examined as she ate it, to find that trace of deceit and disgust she knew would be in there. As soon as she found it she would take everything from him, but she had to find it first. She had to prove it.

That spark of resentment, of hatred for her and who – what – she was was. It had to be there, Ocellus knew it did. It had to be, why couldn’t she find it, how deep had he buried it?

Thorax gasped and shuddered beneath her, twitching in the dirt as she tore memory after reminiscence after sentimentality from him, and yet there was always more. There was so much love in him, and no matter how much she took there was always more. All for her.

“Where is it?” she demanded, watching Thorax squirm in the dirt beneath her. “I know it’s here, why are you hiding it? Just show me.”

Thorax didn’t answer, so wracked with pain, and she didn’t know if he’d tell her even if he could. No matter, though, she’d find it, even if she had to tear every last bit of love from him to do so.

But it didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Why would he have so much love for her if he resented her? Why did he still have more to give, even now, as she wrenched it out of him and feasted on it? Thorax should have run out – he should have given up and given in and shown her what she was looking for. But no, just more love, more adoration.

“Show me and I can stop,” she said. It was meant to sound intimidating, threatening, but Ocellus didn’t think it carried the weight she hoped it would. Her voice still rang out with that power from before, but even she could hear the taint of uncertainty in it. It almost sounded pleading, certainly not queenlike.

Ocellus bared her fangs and redoubled her efforts, tearing into Thorax anew as his shudders weakened. But still no resentment, still no disgust. Just love. Always love.

“Just show me,” she said again, and now she really was pleading, sounding just like her old, pitiful self. “Why isn’t it here? You’re supposed to be scared of me. You’re supposed to hate me.”

Thorax’s quivering grew weaker still, his grunts starting to quiet. “Never…” he spluttered through laboured breaths. “Never scared of you. Never hate you.”

Ocellus dropped to her hindquarters, and to her dismay she felt a familiar warmth around the edges of her eyes. She was crying? What kind of queen cried, especially over a drone?

“Do something,” she begged. “Why aren’t you trying to stop me? Why aren’t you fighting back?”

He was too weak to even give an answer, now. And yet still there was more love there, still he gave it up freely without even the barest attempt to resist her. But even Thorax’s love wasn’t endless, and she could feel it finally starting to wane and dwindle. His movements fading, eyes closed, teeth gritted, the dirt smeared against his chitin.

With a cry of anguish, Ocellus broke off the spell. It wasn’t there. No disgust, no apprehension. Nothing. Thorax had never hated her, not for who she was, not for what she’d done. Not even after she’d transformed into the spitting image of Chrysalis, and not even as she’d torn the love out of him down to the last dregs.

He’d loved her all the same.

Thorax lay still, barely even breathing, so little of his energy left. She’d been so close. Just a little more and she would have taken everything.

“What are you doing?” growled Chrysalis. “Finish what you started. Complete your ascension.”

Ocellus was shaking, her tears flowing freely and rolling down her cheeks as she rounded on Chrysalis with hot anger. “You lied to me.”

“Lied? Daughter, look at you. Look at what you are, all that you’ve become. I showed you your potential, I showed you your strength. Does that feel like a lie to you?”

“Thorax,” Ocellus said, simply. “He didn’t… you were wrong about him.”

Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. “He kept you from this, daughter. From what you were owed. Thorax kept you in the dark and on his leash. I didn’t need to lie about that, it’s all true.”

“He loves me,” Ocellus insisted. “I… When I was feeding, there was nothing else there.”

“And we often hurt the ones we love,” Chrysalis said. “You think his love changes anything? It doesn’t. He still kept all this from you, he still held you back. His motivations don’t matter, Thorax wronged you.”

“Of course it matters. If it-”

“Actions are what matter. He betrayed your trust. He lied. He forced you to transform to fit his ideals, forced you to find a mate to bend over for and let them breed you, all so that he could stay king. If he loved you and still subjected you to all that, then he’s even crueller than I could ever be.” Her tone grew harsh. “Finish it. Seize your throne.”

Ocellus shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Are you really going to let sentimentality for a drone stand in your way? After everything he put you through?”

“He’s my father.”

“As if that makes any difference,” Chrysalis spat. “Where do you think you come from? Whom do you take after? Most drones don’t even know who their father is, and I wasn’t keeping track. I was the constant, I was the one that mattered. The queen is above all.”

Ocellus’ brow furrowed, doubt beginning to seep in. “You don’t care about them at all, do you?”

“I care for all my children, and especially you. But individually?” Chrysalis shrugged. “A single drone is nothing. And the ones that step out of line have to be corrected, have to be made an example of.”

“Not like this.”

Chrysalis sighed, tapping her hoof restlessly against the dirt. “And you were doing so well. Fine, I’ll do it myself. You’ll thank me later.” Her horn ignited as she stepped towards the supine king, only to stop dead as Ocellus blocked her path.

Ocellus still wasn’t as tall as Chrysalis, and the old queen seemed to tower over her as she stood her ground, but it didn’t matter anymore. Ocellus still wasn’t scared, or at least no more than was deserved. Chrysalis was powerful, and terrifying, but now so was Ocellus. There was nothing Chrysalis had that she didn’t.

“Daughter,” Chrysalis sighed, exasperation plain in every syllable, “can’t you see that I’m trying to help you? Thorax’s ideology is a disease, one that’s already rotting your hive to the core. You can’t let him live.”

Ocellus stood firm.

A flicker of anger across Chrysalis’ face, the slightest glint of teeth before she managed to contain her snarl. “Why do you still care about him? Would no betrayal be enough? You have all the freedom you’ve ever craved, the power to keep it, and all the strength that you will ever need. And still you can’t see that he never wanted you to have this. Thorax has done nothing to earn your forgiveness.”

“He made a mistake.”

“He thinks you are a mistake. He will never see you as anything more than a tool for him. Dangerous, but necessary.”

“Dad had nothing but love for me,” Ocellus said, brushing away the tears with the back of her hoof and wincing a little at the sight of the holes. “And you knew that,” she continued, getting surer and more confident with every word. “You’re forgetting I’m a queen, too. I can taste your emotions, and you’re scared.”

Chrysalis snorted derisively. “Scared? What in Equestria do I have to be scared of?”

“You’re scared you’re wrong. That you’ve always been wrong. You’re scared that a queen doesn’t have to be cruel to be powerful, to be respected. And so you need Thorax to be cruel, you need me to be cruel because otherwise it’s proof you’re lying to yourself.” Her voice lowered to a growl that Ocellus would have never expected to be able to make before tonight. “And you are.”

Chrysalis didn’t even try and hide her fury anymore, teeth bared, panting with raw anger. “Enough,” she snarled, her voice booming across the clearing and making the still-cowering drones sink even lower. “Get out of my way, bug. If you won’t take your throne, then I will.”

Ocellus’ magic flared. “No.”

“You think you can stop me? Do you have any idea what-”

The blast was so quick that Chrysalis barely had time to flinch before it slammed into her chest, sending her sprawling across the clearing, rolling and bouncing against the dirt. She was up on her hooves almost instantly, though, releasing her own beam right back towards Ocellus with a bestial shriek of fury. Ocellus saw it coming, ducking to one side as it tore through the air beside her and blasted into a tree trunk, leaving a smouldering scorch mark in the bark.

But she didn’t see the second bolt, and it caught her square in the side, a lance of agony shooting through her and making her own spell fizzle to nothing. Ocellus cried out as she tumbled to the ground, and magic wrapped firmly around her before she could recover, pinning her down as Chrysalis closed the gap.

“Pitiful,” Chrysalis gasped as her grasp tightened, splaying Ocellus’ limbs out wide enough to hurt. “I gave you everything. And you threw it all away for a drone. You’re even more pathetic than he is – at least he aimed above his station, not below.” Her expression hardened. “And then you were stupid enough to try and fight me. You may be a queen, little bug, but you’re weak. You could never win.”

Ocellus closed her eyes, searching. And then she smiled as she found what she was looking for, letting Thorax’s love within her well up, surging through her body with newfound power. “Not alone,” she said, and the clearing exploded with light.

Chrysalis was sent flying again as the love poured free, both Thorax’s and Ocellus’ together as Ocellus shared it all with the world, an eruption of adoration. The clearing was illuminated in almost blinding power, the dark shadow of Chrysalis spinning through the air like a ragdoll until she collided with a tree on the far side of the clearing with a loud crunch. Everything Ocellus had taken from Thorax she returned tenfold, pale blue streaks darting across her black chitin like lightning, spreading and widening as they went. The holes in her legs knitting together again as her fangs drew back into her jaw, and then, finally herself again, Ocellus dropped to the ground in exhaustion.

The light faded, and darkness reclaimed the clearing. Ocellus pulled herself upright on shaking legs. Across from her, Chrysalis struggled to do the same, but her hooves gave out underneath her and she dropped back into the dirt.

“You stupid little bug,” Chrysalis spat, nothing but hatred in her words now, a far cry from all the care and faux-compassion she’d shown earlier. “You’re as short-sighted as your father. Do you think you’ll ever be content, now you know what you could have been? What you really are?”

Ocellus wanted to tell Chrysalis she was wrong, that Ocellus didn’t need it, didn’t want it, but it would have been a lie. She could still feel the queen inside her, clawing and gnashing, desperate to break free again. Desperate to seize control and make the world surrender to her. It would be so easy, all she’d have to do was let it out again.

But she wouldn’t. Ocellus had seen how dangerous that allure could be, and she’d keep the queen locked away as long as she could. And if it ever did get out again? Well, she’d beaten it once, she could do it again.

With Thorax’s help.

“You should leave, Mom,” Ocellus said.

The corners of Chrysalis’ mouth twitched as she tried to pull herself upright once more. She managed it this time, although she had to lean heavily against the trunk beside her for support. “And are you going to make me, little bug?”

“No.” Ocellus nodded towards the treeline. “But they might.”

The gathered drones, no longer cowering, no longer afraid and perhaps even empowered by Ocellus’ love, slowly began to advance on the weakened queen, Pharynx at their forefront. They moved with purpose, and every step closer was laced with unbridled threat. Intimidation didn’t breed loyalty.

Chrysalis may have been furious and vengeful, but even she knew when things were hopeless. With one last snarl of anger, she turned and slipped between the trees, vanishing into the darkness with one last contemptuous flick of her tail.

A few of the bolder drones – Pharynx included – gave chase, but Ocellus didn’t think they’d have much luck. Chrysalis hadn’t lasted this long for lack of resourcefulness. It wasn’t her concern right now, anyway. The moment Chrysalis had left, Ocellus dragged herself over to Thorax.

Her heart sank at the sight of him. He was still breathing, thank the hive, but it was shallow and raspy, filled with pain. Ocellus placed a hoof gently against his shoulder, horrified at how cold he felt, and closed her eyes. She was exhausted, yes, but she needed to find the strength for this. Somehow.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” she whispered. “This isn’t what I wanted. I never meant to hurt you.” She lowered her head, pressing her forehead to his. “But it’s going to be okay. Right?”

Ocellus had to reach down deep to find the love she was looking for; she’d used almost all of what she could spare to defeat Chrysalis. But there was still enough, just enough. Or at least she hoped there was. And so she pulled it free and let it suffuse across her chitin, let it permeate the air around them and sink into Thorax’s unconscious form. As much as she could give, as much as she had. Enough that Ocellus felt herself start to slip away herself, giving it all. She stopped herself when she knew there was nothing more she could do, and opened her eyes, praying it was enough.

And, to her immense relief, Thorax opened his.

She was quick to pull him into a tight hug, burying her head against his chest as he jolted in surprise.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” Ocellus mumbled against his carapace. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to hurt you, that wasn’t me. I’m so, so sorry.”

After a terrible moment of hesitation, Thorax’s hooves wrapped around her, holding her close. “It’s okay,” he said, gently running a hoof along her back like he used to do back when she was barely more than a nymph. “It’s okay, Ocellus, I know. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

And Ocellus just held him tighter and tried to believe him. Tried not to think about the pained look of betrayal and hurt on his face he’d had as she’d drained the love from him.

Tried to believe that it really was going to be okay.