The open-air plateau of the hive had been covered with canvas to protect it from the elements. It bore a striking resemblance to the type of large, makeshift tents that Thorax and the others would erect for Queen Chrysalis out on the battlefield, back in the days of war.
These were markedly different times. King Thorax stood among the rubble of the ancient throne, a once-powerful artifact which no longer protected his people. It didn't feel right to clear the area of what remained of the sacred stone. Even to sit upon the wreckage seemed sacrilegious. So Thorax simply stood amid the rubble each day until his legs were weary, and then he left to sleep while his subjects kept watch. Eventually, the king intended to enlist outside help to restore the throne... assuming such a feat were even possible.
It had only been three days since the Great Change, yet King Thorax was clearly fatigued. The days seemed to be getting longer, but it was late Autumn, so he knew this wasn't the case. His legs were simply tiring sooner with each passing day. The love of his brothers sustained him, but it was thin in the air. Most of the changelings were clearly hungry. They seemed happy not to be starving, at least.
Today, even the king himself felt peckish. Perhaps it was harder for changelings to generate love without beings of other races available to assist. It had only been three days, however, and he was unusually patient for a changeling. The others were still adjusting to their new bodies, and it would probably take more time for them to learn how to share love properly.
"King Thorax?" came the voice of a guard, rousing his attention. Thorax didn't know how long the bug had been standing there, right in front of him. He'd dozed off while standing upright, as he tended to do a few times per day.
"I am sorry, citizen. I've been tired lately," he said. The embarrassment in his voice was clear. Thorax was a poor changeling when it came to disguises. It was a defect which likely led to his defection in the first place, and ironically led him to become the leader of a people whose skills surpassed his own. Changelings were a people he did not exemplify. In fact, prior to the recent radical upheaval in the Hive's social order, Thorax had been in many respects the least of all changelings.
Despite the king's bashful tone, the changeling before him showed no signs of disrespect. He stared reverently up to his new leader, in the same way as any of his brothers. Thorax's natural form was imposing, perhaps even more so than Chrysalis had been: large and strong, as bright and vibrant as she was dark and dismal, with massive mandibular horns, and magic flowing from all three of his chitinous cranial protrusions whenever he focused. He was still learning how to use his new magic, but even his clumsy attempts at telekinesis seemed to marvel his subjects.
"There's nothing wrong with being tired, my king," said the changeling, bowing down. "You are our leader, and we understand the crown is heavy."
King Thorax hated this kind of formality. He wasn't a leader by nature, even though he embraced his duty without hesitation. He'd been fated to rule, much like Starlight Glimmer and Twilight Sparkle before her.
Unfortunately, it was neigh-impossible for Thorax to speak informally with his subjects. For one thing, he couldn't recognize a damned one of them since the Great Change. Nobuggy looked anything like they used to. After three days, King Thorax was still the only changeling everybuggy else could recognize on sight. It didn't matter much, at least: none of the changelings had maintained friendships before the Great Change. Each of them needed to meet and get to know the others again, anyway.
"Which one are you?" asked Thorax, as he used his magic to lift his subject's pastel-colored face to meet his gaze.
"Stain-click," answered the subject, with a buzz of his shimmering wings. "But... does that matter?"
King Thorax smiled a weary grin. "Well, yes. I want to know you," he said.
Stain-click grinned, but it only lasted a moment. "Sire, about that. I need to speak with you. It's... about the love."
Thorax nodded. "I've noticed it's rather thin, yes. We need to implement some programs to teach our people how to share love more openly," he said. "I've been working on the problem. You seem like a good bug to have on the execution team."
Stain-click's eyes widened. "I'm honored, my king. But, um, I think we really need to have that talk first."
"Yes?" said King Thorax, looking a bit perplexed.
"In private," added Stain-click, his voice suddenly hushed.
"Oh," said Thorax, and he clicked his beak nervously. "Well, alright. Lead the way."
Stain-click nodded, and led the king down a tunnel into the hive, and through an alcove portal. They entered a very small bubble of stone, just as all the exits closed. The two changelings were surrounded on all sides by solid rock. Thorax instinctively knew they had about ten minutes until the next portal freed them from the tiny room.
"Go ahead," said Thorax, and he lay on the floor, no longer hiding his exhaustion. Stain-click remained standing.
"Yes, sire. It's about the love. It's pretty thin, as you know. Our people are hungry," said Stain-click. "We're not starving like before, so it's still much better than lean times, but it's not as nice as a feed."
Thorax nodded and sighed. "I know. I think we can fix this with friendship training," he said. "But it may take some time. We've only been like this for three days now..."
"Four," corrected Stain-click.
"Right, four," said Thorax, with a small cough. Had it actually been four days already? He couldn't remember, but Stain-click's message began to sink in. "Wait... Stain-click, are you concerned that our people are growing restless already?"
Stain-click shook his head. "The opposite, my king! Everybuggy would go to the ends of Equestria in your name. Nobuggy here holds fealty any longer to Queen... Queen You-know-who," he said. "Right now is still much better than the worst of times. I'm sure your plans will make things better still."
Thorax yawned and briefly flexed his tongue in a snake-like motion. "I see. Well, that seems like good news. Why the secrecy, then?"
Although the chamber was sealed on all sides, Stain-click looked all around him before responding. "I apologize on behalf of everybuggy, your highness. But... there's something we've been hiding from you."
"Oh?" said Thorax, his neck drooping. "Actually, I was a little worried about this. I've sensed that some of our people have been hiding things since the Great Change. How many of your brothers know about this 'secret' of yours?"
Stain-click closed his eyes solemnly. "All of them, sire. You are the last to know," he said, his voice cracking. "We drew straws to see who would tell you, and I lost. I will accept whatever punishment you have in store."
I'm their king, and I'm the last one to know. The truth stung like a hot spinneret.
King Thorax did his best not to show the trepidation that rippled through his exoskeleton. He stretched and stood up straight, putting on his best poker face—which wasn't very good, but perhaps it was the thought that mattered.
After the little changeling opened his eyes again, Thorax smiled gently. "You're not in any trouble. Don't be afraid, just be honest with me."
"Bless you, sire," said Stain-click. He winced briefly, then continued, "The fact is simple. Some of the changelings have not experienced the Great Change."
"What?" said Thorax. He momentarily stiffened in place before relaxing his posture a little. "Oh! You mean there are changelings we have yet to reach, like the ones on patrol away from the Hive. Yes, I assumed that."
The smaller changeling closed his eyes again and shook his head. "No, sire. I mean those of us here with you now."
Thorax looked horrified. "That—some of you haven't changed? But... how?" he gasped.
Stain-click stood there, patiently waiting for his king to understand, but saying nothing. It only took a few moments.
The truth struck Thorax like a falling boulder. It was so obvious; how could he have missed it? It was his boundless optimism at fault, he realized. All this time, he'd been blinded by what he wanted to believe was true. But the facts were unmistakable.
We're changelings. We can look like anything.
"Some of our brothers... they never truly changed," King Thorax finally said, his voice slow and soft. "They changed their appearance to look like those of us who did, didn't they?"
"We just wanted to fit in, and we wanted it so badly," said Stain-click with a morose frown, as his form reverted in a whirl of familiar green energy to the black, fanged, hollow-and-broken form of which Thorax was all too familiar. "It was our duty to follow suit, yet we didn't know how... We wanted to tell you, but we didn't want to disappoint our new leader."
"Of course... this is all you've ever known in life. It's probably a miracle anybuggy was able to change," admitted Thorax, and then he gulped audibly. "How many are there?"
"Eleven," said Stain-click.
"Eleven haven't changed?" said Thorax. "Okay, that's fine. We can fix this. We'll start working one-on-one with you..."
Stain-click grimaced. "No, sire. Only eleven have changed, including you! The thousands who remain have not. But we are fully loyal to you, King Thorax, I swear it!"
King Thorax opened his mouth, then paused a moment in thought before speaking. "That's only because I'm currently the one in power, isn't it?" he realized.
The little changeling—even smaller now without his false mirage of apotheosis—shrugged his rickety shoulders, and a confused look crossed the hard black rims of his little blue eyes. "Well, of course. Why else would we follow you?"
Thorax sighed. "Right. Well, we don't have time to waste. We need to change the rest of our brothers very soon. It will ensure we can feed the Hive to satiation, and it will protect us should Chrysalis ever return. Or when she returns, rather—I fear that's a certainty."
"Many of us have attempted it, sire, numerous times," said Stain-click. "We've gathered in groups, and tried to share love with each other, but it's so hard!" He hissed angrily, his little tongue whipping out of his mouth in distaste. "Other bugs are so stupid and mean and wrong, and it's so much easier to fight than agree on things!"
Thorax did his best to hide the hopelessness he was feeling, deep inside. "Does everybuggy know who among us have truly changed?" he asked.
Stain-click nodded. "It's common knowledge, now. Once you meet the ten others, I mean. The True Changed have higher status in the Hive because they are more like you, sire, so knowing them is a requirement for all of us. They don't seem to want to boss us around, though."
"Please, tell me more about the Changed," requested Thorax.
"Besides you, there were nine others who helped to banish the queen. A tenth was able to change afterwards, with great effort," said Stain-click. "He is the one who renamed himself Gossamer. We all call him by that name now, as his desire is Law. The rest of us have had no success. There is jealousy brewing, but no danger of mutiny. We each know and accept our place in the Hive."
"Hmm. I'm pretty sure I remember who Gossamer is, because of the name thing. He spoke to me briefly a day or two ago. I definitely want to speak with him more. In the meantime, I'll send two of the other nine as emissaries to Twilight Sparkle in order to enlist her immediate aid," said Thorax.
A tiny smile crossed Stain-click's little black muzzle. "I knew you would know what to do, sire."
Thorax smiled back, but it wasn't very convincing. What if the Great Change were incredibly difficult for most changelings? For that matter, what if it were impossible? Perhaps most changelings had no chance at all to experience the Change! Bickering and bitterness were a part of their very nature, even as infants. Thorax was a mutant, completely different from his brothers, stretching all the way back to the very day he'd been hatched. If no others could change, he'd be left with a Hive of hungry changelings, only a hoofful of them capable of sharing love to help feed the rest. Yes, they could survive like this, but not comfortably. The Hive would be weak to attack, and all but defenseless without the anti-magic of the ancient throne.
Perhaps the Princess of Friendship would save them, or her insightful student... or even that crazy draconequus. At least they could receive some assistance for a little while, as the king blindly struggled to teach his brothers how to love. It was something he personally had never needed to learn, since it came naturally. How do you teach a feeling of compassion? Can something like that even be taught? How? Thorax didn't have a clue where to begin.
Maybe there was a good reason changelings hadn't found this path before now. King Thorax might be leading a dying people in their last days. But his heart began to settle, and the tension in his now-softer chitinous shell slowly faded away.
In a sad way, leadership was easy when there was only one thing left to do. With that epiphany, his smile grew convincing and true, and he could see a hint of Stain-click's pleasure as the little changeling quietly fed upon his sire's compassion.
Whatever the cost, King Thorax would love his subjects to the end. After all, he'd been born that way.
