Background Pony #38D6

"You don't need to be angry or afraid any more, Chrysalis."



"You ruined my plans," the Queen spat,"you snatched my only chance from me, you exiled me to a barren wasteland! Why should I not run you through with my horn?"



Cadance shifted her hooves up to the changeling's neck, her smile never once faltering.



"Because I love you." She leaned closer, barely an inch but it was enough to make the Queen flinch. "So does Shining."



"You… You two! This is all your fault! You and your disgusting love magic!" Her teeth clenched together tightly but Cadance could easily spot the wetness at the edges of the changeling's eyes. "This is some trick, isn't it? You've come to rub salt in my wound, haven't you?"



"It's okay," Cadance repeated softly, "you don't have to be afraid." She leaned in close, brushing her horn against the edge of the Queen's mane.



"Stop it! I am not afraid!" Lips curled back, Chrysalis snarled at the mare before her. "And stop this, now!"



Contrary to those words, and in spite of Chrysalis' attempts to pull away, Cadance leaned in closer, until her head disappeared under the thick tresses of Chrysalis' mane and rested against her neck.



"Stop being so afraid," she whispered.



Chrysalis lifted her hooves, pushing them feebly against Cadance. "Stop it! I'm not… I'm not afraid!" Her voice cracked.



Pink hooves wrapped around a black chitinous body and the mare started to gently sway.



"Please," Chrysalis' voice was hoarse, her words little more than a strained whisper, "please stop."



But her hooves no longer pushed at the mare. Instead, they held her, just as she was held.



And there, deep within the Queen, Cadance could sense it — like the nearly cold embers of a fire, all it needed was just a little help, just a little push.



"Please," she whispered, her hooves squeezing Chrysalis tight, "come back with me. Come back to us."



It did not, as she knew it would not, roar to life; it did not swell up suddenly; it sputtered and sparked but it was given life once more.



And maybe, in time, it would burn just as brightly as hers.