Two days later…
On the half-ruined porch of his demure abode, Ponyville’s resident human, clad in his favorite bathrobe, sat nestled in his rocking chair, his lips set upon a freshly brewed cup of coffee. It wasn’t quite to his taste, but he didn’t mind; after the renovators finished rebuilding his kitchen, the fact that he could make a cup of coffee at all was something he deeply appreciated.
Against all odds, he’d made enough to actually make that leap, as opposed to simply settling for replacing odds and ends around the house. No more takeout for Mister Anon, no sirree.
As the steam from the nectar billowed across his brow, he took great comfort in the relative solitude of his lounging. Ponies gave him a comically wide berth as they traipsed past his house, going about their usual business whenever they’d felt like they had enough room to relax. As much as it got on his nerves, the short term benefit of not having to greet anyone before he was finished with his morning routine was welcomed quite readily - a boon he capitalized on by leaning his head against the back of his rocker and letting his eyes fall closed.
A deep breath seated itself in his lungs as he felt himself loosen his usually taut stature. All factors considered, nothing could ruin this moment, his singular facade of peace. Woe betide any who dared to-
“Good morning, Anon!”
…Woe betide most who dared to disturb his tranquility.
He picked his head back up, squinting his eyes in the vibrant sunlight. Twilight stood before him, a warm smile resting upon her face as she waved heartily at him with a free hoof. Anon grinned back as believably as he could, given that he really did cherish his solitude.
Solitude, shmolitude, though - she was his friend, and he should be happy to see her.
“Mornin’, Twi,” he said, clearly his first spoken words of the day. “What brings you all the way to my neck of Ponyville?”
Given that her castle was situated on the other side of town, the question did warrant asking.
“Oh, I just wanted to check on you, is all,” she replied, a bit more timidly than expected.
“Making sure I’m not ‘cavorting’ with Chrysalis, huh?” he jested before taking another sip.
She sighed, her features awash with sheepish regret.
“I’m still so sorry about that, Anon. I didn’t think it would get so out of hand, and… well, you know how some of the ponies here can be, I guess.”
Anon stared headlong into his coffee for a moment, grin faltering ever so slightly.
“I guess,” he parrots flatly, blinking once or twice before returning to proper form.
Twilight noticed this and grew dour, but didn’t have time to interject before he spoke up again.
“I like the quiet, though, so it hasn’t been all that bad. Just wish they didn’t think I was some kind of underling for her, or whatever they’re saying now.”
“I’ll explain everything to everypony at the town hall meeting later,” she reassured him. “Whatever they’re saying, I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding.”
Anon grunted in response, exhaustedly eyeing the noticeably nervous alicorn across from him. Her gaze seemed to be darting back and forth between innumerable points of interest, flitting back to him every few moments as the silence between them grew tangible.
“You alright, Twi? You seem kinda tense for a Sunday morning.”
“Huh? Oh, no, no, no, I’m fine,” she said as she crossed one of her hooves in front of the other. “I just have a lot to do today, is all. Especially after the festival…”
Anon’s eyebrows lifted in thought.
“I didn’t even think about all the stuff you’d have to deal with, too. I’m guessing she put a lot on your plate?”
“You’d be correct,” she confirmed with a grim chuckle. “It’s mostly P.R., but I’m not exactly well-versed in dealing with that, you know?”
“Don’t I ever,” Anon said, an amused puff of air leaving his nose. “I’d be the least popular princess in history, I think.”
A restrained laugh, robbed of her usual candor, freed itself from her lungs. Though genuine, it was held back by something; of this, Anon felt confident. His suspicions were all but confirmed when, after a few moments of timid silence, she spoke once more.
“Actually, now that I think about it, I do need to talk to you about something,” Twilight said, each word dancing on eggshells. “Do you have a minute?”
Anon looked left and right, gesturing to his immediate surroundings with open arms.
“I happen to have a lot of minutes, actually. What’s up, is something wrong?”
“Not exactly, but I’m just trying to get ahead of it,” she said. “Would you mind if we talked inside?”
Anon frowned as a wave of apprehension rose to his chest.
“Yeah, sure,” he placated, rising from his seat.
With stiff movements indicative of his recent awakening, he meandered over to his front door and held it open for her. She wasted no time in trotting inside, and as he shut the door behind the both of them, she beheld his mostly-redone living room.
While most of the space looked much like it did before her battle with Chrysalis, remnants of the conflict lingered; tools laid about the room in various states of use, most likely left there by the contractors who were working on the restoration. Apart from that, remnants of the battle still lingered; exposed insulation here, a patch of ground without flooring there…
For the most part, though, everything looked like it was coming along nicely, apart from the hallway leading to his bedroom, which was still in disrepair. She couldn’t see into his former sanctuary at the time since the door was closed, but if she wasn’t mistaken, it was still open to the elements. Why Anon hadn’t arranged for it to be one of the first things repaired, she’d never know.
“Make yourself at home,” Anon called out as he moved to the kitchen, setting his cup down on the counter. “It’s still a bit drafty in some spots, but they said that would work itself out in a couple of days.”
Rather than follow him into the kitchen, Twilight made her way over to his rather small dining table and pulled out one of the chairs, wasting no time in clambering onto the human-heighted furniture. Her movements were stiff, borne of apprehension - were they any more strained, one might’ve heard pistons and machinery grinding away beneath her nerve-wracked flesh.
“Thirsty?” Anon asked as he threw his refrigerator door wide, placing his coffee within. “I’d ask if you’re hungry, but I haven’t had time to make a grocery trip yet, so we’re both out of luck.”
“I’m fine, no worries,” Twilight replied, syllables falling over each other in her unintentionally frenetic pace.
Anon eyed her with a turn of his head and a raised eyebrow, letting the hefty fridge door fall closed on its own. They weren’t that close, so he could never truly be sure, but he’d known her long enough to have an inkling of the severity of what was going on in her world.
“Alright, let’s get to it,” Anon said, forgoing his tiptoeing. “What’s bugging you?”
The corners of Twilight’s mouth were beset by a grim smirk as Anon crossed the room, pulling out his own chair at the table.
“Your word choice is pretty ironic, considering the situation,” she said, a new gloom hanging overhead.
Anon caught on almost immediately.
“Chrysalis?”
She nodded.
“Her outburst at the festival didn’t exactly do her any favors in terms of public opinion. Ponies have even been directly petitioning Princess Celestia to have her imprisoned indefinitely, as opposed to going through the reformation program I’ve been leading.”
A tumultuous uproar of both relief, and then guilt, swelled in the pit of Anon’s stomach. Relief that, hopefully, she would finally be out of everyone’s hair forever, followed by the guilt of wishing against his friend’s goals. He knew Chrysalis should have been locked away; after all of her transgressions against his people, his home, he was surprised she wasn’t turned to stone on the spot. That’s what she deserved.
But the downtrodden remorse on his friend’s face gave him pause.
…
“How many of them signed on?” he asked, unwilling to wrestle with his thoughts for the moment.
“More than enough to have gotten Celestia’s attention. And it’s not just ponies from Ponyville, either; there are a lot of signatures from Canterlot, too.”
Anon’s mind immediately went to the snooty scam artist that had waltzed up to his tent. Deep in his gut, he felt as if something terribly unfair had happened to his diminutive reputation in Canterlot, but he shrugged it aside for the moment.
“What’s going to happen, then?” he asked, paying careful attention to the nuances of Twilight’s expression as his question sat with her. “Did Celestia say anything?”
“We have a meeting scheduled for later today to discuss everything that happened, and explore any possible alternative approaches. She fully supports our efforts, but if this situation reaches any sort of royal committee, I can’t see it ending favorably for Chrysalis…”
“And since the petition is gaining traction so fast, you’re running out of time to fix her,” Anon finished for her.
Twilight nodded solemnly once more, but began to hold his gaze with growing determination.
“I know she can change, Anon,” she declared. “I’ve seen flashes of a softer side whenever she talks about her old hive. It’s fleeting, sure, but it’s there!”
“Twilight, she hates what happened to them.”
“Maybe, but she doesn’t hate them.”
Her determination came to a head, and a confident smirk took its place on her features.
“And from the way she was talking about you when she was being escorted back to her holding cell, I don’t think she hates you, either.”
Anon froze, his deeply confused stare reaching across the table.
“Huh…?” Anon muttered incredulously.
“It’s true!” she continued, rearing her front legs onto the table. “She asked about you, Anon. She’s never done that with anypony else I’ve brought on for help.”
“…What did she even ask about?”
“Not much, but it was more than enough,” Twilight replied. “What you are, why you’re in Ponyville, things like that.”
Anon frowned a tad and leaned forward onto his elbows so as to be more comfortable.
“I feel like those are pretty ordinary things to ask, Twi,” he said, eager to dismiss it as nothing.
‘What’s she getting at?’ he thought, his frown deepening. ‘I mean, I guess that’s pretty out there, considering it’s Chrysalis. I still don’t see how that would-’
Utter clarity swallowed him whole.
He sunk back into his chair, beset by an overwhelming urge to deny her incoming request before it could even be verbalized. With a fathoms-deep breath, though, he held his tongue. His gaze became steely as he locked eyes with Twilight, bracing himself for the inevitable question.
“Ordinary for anypony else, sure,” Twilight continued, “but for her? I don’t mean to be rude, but right now, that’s akin to a Hearth’s Warming miracle.”
“Right now, huh?” Anon asked.
She hums her confirmation, her smile threatening to overtake the rest of her face.
“I’ve got a plan, Anon. It’s not foolproof, and it’s based on a lot of assumptions, but right now, it’s our best chance to turn things around for her.”
“Do tell.”
She appeared visibly confused for a fraction of a second, mildly put off by Anon’s seemingly vexed tone. Nevertheless, she carried on undeterred.
“Well, since the previous version of the curriculum wasn’t working, I thought about adding some revisions to it. Changing exercises, allocating more time outside of the castle walls, et cetera.”
Anon nodded, crossing his arms as she continued.
“After the festival, though, I had some time to wonder about why none of our ideas had been working. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that we didn’t just need to tweak the curriculum; we need to change things from the top down, and have fresh, new faces that she isn’t familiar with spearheading the project.”
Anon’s eyebrows shot up, feigning ignorance.
“New faces?” he asked. “Who did you have in mind?”
“I’m still running through the first few drafts for a cohesive team, but, um…”
She sat back down and twiddled her hooves, anxiously averting her gaze; she understood full well the gravity of what she was about to implicitly ask.
“Well, I got carried away, and they all s-sort of… relied on you being a part of it.”
She flashed her best “please don’t be mad” smile at him, shrinking in her seat as she readied herself for his reaction.
She expected an outburst, maybe even a chewing out. Shoot, even just a stern “no” was something she had also planned for. Instead, Anon’s features softened, his muscles loosening as the time passed. He scanned her from across the table, perhaps measuring some quality unknown to her, before sighing and clasping the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“You came out here just so you could ask me that, huh?”
Twilight, aghast at his assertion, reeled from his words like flesh from a hot knife.
“No!” she exclaimed. “I really did want to make sure you were alright. Anon, why would you think that?”
Guilt, this time in full force, flooded his face.
He exhaled, releasing his nose and letting his arms fall slack onto the table, unable to meet her gaze.
“Sorry. I don’t know, I just…”
The words trailed off, sputtering into nothing. Anon’s leg began bouncing, a tic he’d all but gotten rid of.
“Twi, you know how I feel about her,” he said, careful to keep using her nickname. “The only reason I agreed to babysit her at the festival is because I couldn’t really say no.”
“I know, Anon,” Twilight said. “And I really do regret dropping all of that on you, but I think it might have been for the best. Even if it wasn’t much, I’ve never seen Chrysalis be that inquisitive before - there might be something to it.”
A long pause coats the room in unease before Anon deigns to speak again.
“I don’t think so.”
Twilight went to reply, but he beat her to the punch.
“She’s just grasping at straws, looking for a way out. I mean, we’ve given her chances before, haven’t we? The only thing she’s used them for is to lash out and hurt us.”
Anon sank into his chair, his eyes having found some distant point within Twilight to focus on. It lasts for a few moments before he holds her gaze once more, uncertainty welling up in the curvature of his lips.
“…I trust what you feel about her, Twi, but this I don't think this is something I should be a part of. I’m sorry.”
The true depths of his resentment for the changeling bubbled just below the surface, desperate to spill from his mouth. In an effort to keep Twilight comfortable, however, he abstained.
Disappointment drug her eyebrows downward, but she wouldn’t relent.
“Don’t undervalue yourself, Anon,” she explained with more gravitas in her tone. “I think our chances of success soar exponentially with you involved. Whatever you did with her in that tent, Anon, it’s sticking with her.”
He forbade himself from laughing at Twilight’s unintentional innuendo, settling instead for a light smirk that faded within seconds.
“Still feel like we’re jumping to conclusions here.”
She shook her head, doggedly determined.
“We aren’t, Anon. I know it. If you want to come along with me later and see for yourself, then-”
“Twilight.”
His sharp interruption swiftly cut through her cascading explanation, the heaviness of her full name pulling her back to attention. To his credit, Anon’s neutral expression remained, wholly counterpoint to his stern tone. While it did help to reassure Twilight that she hadn’t crossed any lines, she still felt the pit in her stomach open up.
“The answer is no,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.”
What felt like minutes passed in deafening silence. Twilight’s dejection was still partially visible, ears splayed back in the wake of his refusal. Anon’s guilt, those freezing fingers wrapped around his stubborn heart, compelled him to explain himself, his face contorting in discomfort as he did so.
“What you’re trying to do is noble, and I really do support it, but after what her drones did…”
His face contorts further, this time in growing anger. He’d never have them back; one of one, they were.
“I don’t think she deserves-”
“I’ll cover the repairs to your home.”
Anon’s uncomfortable expression disappeared, replaced by confusion.
“…What?”
Twilight's smile broke out from under the fog of initial rejection.
“If you help me with this, the repairs to your home will be done at the crown’s expense.”
He stared at her in disbelief.
“…You’re really prepared to make that offer?”
“I told you that you were integral to our success, and I meant it,” she explained.
"You... you know how much work is left, right? I mean, half the porch is still in shambles."
She nodded, undeterred. He chuffed in dubiety, an unconscious smirk on his lips.
Anon idly scratched his cheek, attempting to itch away the undeniable appeal of her proposition. Unease tempered his nerve, but at what tradeoff? Without that funding, the repairs would easily take another whole year of saving to even begin. Another year of faulty insulation, of the elements creeping into the living room under his bedroom door, of a busted water heater; these and many more.
Would he really walk his stance back, though? Just like that?
…
“You said you’re curating a team, right?” he asked, each word hanging precariously in the air. “I wouldn’t be doing this alone?”
“Correct. It’ll be a relatively small group of ponies to improve unit cohesiveness. You’ll be working directly with me, too.”
Decades passed in Anon’s mind as it wracked itself with the task of deliberation. Eventually, perhaps against his better judgment, it bore fruit.
“…Alright.”
Twilight’s eyebrows shed their weight as she regarded Anon in a lighter manner.
“Do we have a deal?”
“We do,” he said. “I’m probably gonna pay for it later, but we do.”
A contented sigh left her as she bowed her head in relief, debating whether or not to set it on the table.
“You alright?” Anon asked, thin ice underfoot.
“Oh, I'm fine,” she said. “I’m just really glad you’re on board. I really needed you, you know?”
Despite Anon’s incoming predicament, Twilight’s sweet compliment brought forth a genuine smile. It twisted the knife, too - the guilt for his adamancy grew with every word from her mouth. Eager to dispel the feeling, he shifted subjects.
“I’m guessing I’ll be coming with you later today, then?”
Twilight nods her head, a grin finally returning to her features.
“Yep! I’m expected at 4 in the afternoon, so we should leave around noon or so to catch the train and have enough time to grab something to eat.”
“Sounds good, Twi. One condition, though…”
Her features fall a bit.
“Yes…?”
Anon’s smile goes wide as he stands from the table.
“Wanna come get groceries with me? We can catch up properly while I shop around.”
Twilight beamed eagerly, standing from her own seat.
“I’d like that, Anon.”