The Badlands were never exactly cheery. Flat plains of scorched scrub interspersed with bleak plateaus weren’t exactly the stuff of holiday cards and carols. Yet despite this, bright lights shone out into the night, illuminating the passing tumbleweeds. The flickering neon sign spelled out “Buzz’s All-Nite”, and the unlit line below read “Our dishes are made with love.”
Indeed, this small beacon of light came from the world’s most optimistic diner; a changeling-run enterprise that catered to the changelings, dragons, and sundry outcast who made their home out in this sun-baked plain. It was well after midnight, now. Usually, this was the time when the kitchen staff could relax a little, kick back and read some magazines. Tonight, though, was different. Tonight, they actually had customers. Two of them. The restaurant had never been so busy.
They were sitting separately. The first, a purple crystal unicorn, sat at a table by the window, munching her way through a platter of chili fries. The other was a changeling who the restaurant staff recognized immediately. Prince Pharynx sat on a stool at the counter, picking at his loveburger. The two of them had been there for over an hour, barely eating anything and hardly acknowledging one another’s presence.
The gloomy mood wafting off of them was setting the whole staff on edge. Pharynx himself seemed doubly affected, leaning on the counter with his head in his hooves. At long last, he turned around. “Would you please knock that off?” he growled.
The mare jumped in her seat. “Huh?”
“The sulking. You’re putting me off my food.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I mean, did you just come here to make all us changelings have terrible dinners, or what?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Pot calling the kettle, I think.”
“I’m the prince of the changelings. I can eat where I like.”
“Slumming it a little, aren’t you?”
He sneered. “I have my reasons.”
“Something bothering you?”
“Who’s calling the kettle black now?”
“That’s fair enough.” She hesitated. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“Not on your life.”
“Okay.” Another pause. “Can I talk to you about why I’m here?”
“I swear to solar--”
“It would help me be less sulky.”
Pharynx scowled and glanced at the workers. They all quickly turned back to their work. “Fine. But come sit by me. I feel like an idiot talking across half the diner.”
She picked up her chili fries and trotted over. He could already taste her spirits brightening. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Radiant Hope. I guess I don’t need to ask who you are, Prince Pharynx.”
“I tend to prefer Commander Pharynx, but yeah. That’s me. Now, what’s your story?”
Hope sucked in a deep breath. “It all started a little over a thousand years ago…”
She caught a look at his face. “Or maybe I could skip to the end,” she said.
“That would be best.”
“A few months ago, I moved into a house on the outskirts of the Badlands with my childhood friend, Sombra. You probably know him as the former evil king of the Crystal Empire, but he--”
“Magical friendship rainbow to the face.”
“Close enough. We came here to search for shards of the last true queen of the Empire, Princess Amore-- again, that’s a tale a thousand years in the making. The important thing is, Sombra hasn’t exactly been in the best state of mental stability since he was reformed. He’s got a guilt complex the size of Canterlot, and he’s kinda got a sort of…”
“Self-loathing?”
“Yeah, actually, how did you--”
“Thought I tasted despair coming in from the north,” Pharynx muttered. “Can you get to the point already?”
“Well, yes. It all started when I was decorating for Hearth’s Warming…”
***
Radiant Hope hummed along with the radio as she strung tinsel and baubles around the perimeter of the room. Some ponies complained that the holiday season started too early, but Hope loved it. The merry carols flooded her with all the festivity and goodwill that had been lacking from her life for so long.
The door creaked open. Hope had long stopped questioning how even the most well-oiled of doors creaked when her best friend opened them. It was just part of who he was. “Sombra! How’s dinner coming?”
The solidly-built black stallion stepped all the way into the room. He was clad in a frilly pink apron, and he was squinting through the sudden brightness in which he found himself. “Hope? Did you put all of your decorations into one room?”
“Of course not! That would be absurd.”
He raised a hoof to cover his eyes. “I see. Do you then mean to decorate the entire house to such a degree? Because if I need to buy sunglasses, I’d rather know now.”
Hope looked around the room. Every square inch was covered in colorful foil and twinkle lights. She’d had to carry the sofa to the next room to make space for the doll tableau of Smart Cookie, Clover the Clever, and Private Pansy summoning the Fire of Friendship, which was really a pink light bulb the size of Hope’s head. “Maybe I went a little bit over the top,” she admitted. “But think about it! We haven’t celebrated Hearth’s Warming together in years! Can you blame me for being a little excited?”
Sombra opened his mouth as though to speak, but at the last moment he changed his mind and merely shook his head.
“So much has changed about the way ponies celebrate,” Hope said, still staring at the faux Fire. “I can’t wait to show you all of it.”
“About that…”
“This is just such a special time for me.” She turned and smiled at him. “I’m so glad to be celebrating with somepony so dear to me.”
Sombra’s mouth snapped shut and his face burned hot pink. “Dinner will be ready soon,” he said, a little hoarsely. “Could you take a little break?”
“Of course.” She set down her tinsel and tape. “What did you say you were making?”
“I didn’t, actually. Turnip and beetroot casserole.”
“My favorite! You spoil me, Sombra.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “Aheh. Yes. Hopefully that’s all I spoil tonight.”
“Sorry?”
“Nothing. Let’s eat.”
It was a very good dinner. Sombra stayed very quiet while Hope told him all about the new holiday songs, and the gifts, and the interesting addition of Old Holly Hooves into the holiday. He smiled and he nodded, but he only picked at his food.
Hope wasn’t really worried until he brought out the dessert. “Apple crisp a la mode,” she said slowly. “Also my favorite. Sombra, what’s going on?”
He set the bowl on the table and stared at his hooves. “I was trying to think of a good way to tell you this,” he said quietly. “I don’t think there is one.”
After a moment, Hope chuckled nervously. “Well, go on then. Better to rip the band-aid off now.”
He took a deep breath in. “I’m not ready for Hearth’s Warming.”
She relaxed, settling into comforting smile. “Well, it’s still more than two weeks away. I think you’ve got a little time to bake the cookies and find all the right gifts--”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not ready for Hearth’s Warming. At all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean--” he rubbed the bridge of his muzzle. “What I mean is, I can’t celebrate Hearth’s Warming this year.”
Her smile fell and dashed itself into a thousand pieces on the floor. “What? Why not?”
He gave a heavy sigh. “What is Hearth’s Warming about, Hope? Light. Friendship. Harmony, peace, goodness. Where in the world do I fit into all that?”
“Sombra, we’ve talked about this--”
“We have.”
“You aren’t that pony anymore. You weren’t in your right mind.”
“I’m still not. Not as long as I can remember those days. Not as long as I can hear those screams, see those faces full of anguish staring at me, blaming me, being right--”
He broke off. Hope put a soothing hoof on his back. “Sombra,” she said gently. “That isn’t who you are. Not now. You’re trying to make up for all that, right?”
There was a flicker of violet smoke. Just a flicker, but enough to make Hope flinch. “Not who I am,” Sombra said, dolorously. “When even my oldest friend thinks I might go back to the bad old days, deep down, that isn’t who I am?”
“Sombra, please--”
He shook off her hoof. “No. No, Hope, I just-- I just can’t do it.” He turned and trotted from the room, head held low. “You celebrate without me. You deserve this holiday. You stay in the light. I will keep to the shadows.” He pulled his apron off and threw it in the general direction of the coatrack. It fell to the ground, and Hope’s heart fell with it.
***
“Huh,” said Thorax. “That sounds pretty bad, yeah.”
He paused for a moment and glared at her. “You don’t taste any less sulky,” he said.
She sighed. “Sorry. I’ll just go, then. Enjoy your dinner, your highness.”
She made to hop off the stool. “Hold on,” he said, holding up a hoof. “I’m…” he scrunched up his face. “Sorry.”
She paused and looked at him. “For what you’re going through,” he said quickly. “I suppose your problem isn’t altogether dissimilar from my own.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ve got some holiday stress of my own.”
“I didn’t know changelings celebrated Hearth’s Warming.”
“We don’t. Why would we celebrate a pony holiday?”
“Um. Fair point. So you celebrate…”
“The Longest Night. You know it as the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, falls about three days before Hearth’s Warming…”
“That sounds interesting. What do you do?”
“It’s a celebration of the days getting longer again, so we stay up all night having a huge feast. Stored love, booze, fruit, everything. At midnight we all stand around a bonfire and sing songs. It’s unbelievably schlocky, but everyling loves it. Even Chrysalis couldn’t completely ruin it, though she did make all the songs praise her glory and power. And like half the feast was reserved for her. And-- well, you get the picture.”
“Mhm.”
“So my brother started thinking about how we could make this the best Longest Night ever. That’s where the trouble started…”
***
Thorax hustled down the corridor, surrounded by a swarm of his subjects, each one waving a clipboard, or holding up a box of decorations, or just demanding answers. Remarkably, Thorax was actually responding to each changeling individually.
“Kevin, I trust your judgement on the floral centerpieces. Make them now, and we can work out if they need to be altered later. I think the red tablecloths would look better than blue, Gossamer. This is a warm room we’re going for, remember. Earwig, please just focus on the mashed potatoes, not on the love lives of the other chefs. Imago, take the bent candelabra to Mandibles, she can fix it. Pharynx--” The king of the changelings stopped talking. “What did you want, Pharynx?”
Pharynx glowered at his brother. It was quite easy when both of them stood head and shoulders above the other changelings. “A word,” he enunciated. “In private.”
“Oh, well, you see--”
“Now, Thorax. The rest of you, just do your jobs. If there’s a problem, we can work it out later. If there’s an emergency, a real, life-threatening emergency, then you are more than welcome to interrupt us, but it better be worth it. In the meantime, scram.”
The chitinous crowd scattered, leaving only the royal brothers remaining in the hall. Thorax smiled at his brother, just a little too widely to be believable. “So!” he said brightly. “What did you want to talk about?”
Pharynx didn’t smile back. “My office. Now.”
Thorax’s smile dropped.
Pharynx’s office was large, but fairly spartan. The only furniture was a desk, two chairs, and a wall clock. He sat down behind his desk. “Take a seat, Thorax.”
Thorax shook his head. “I’d rather stand, if it’s all the same to you.”
“It isn’t. We’ll come back to that. Thorax, do you know why I wanted to talk to you?”
Thorax sighed. “You’re trying to convince me, yet again, that this is a bad idea. Look, I’m sorry, Pharynx, but inviting some ponies along--”
“Is actually not a terrible idea,” Pharynx interrupted.
Thorax blinked. “Huh?”
“I admit, I wasn’t sold on it at first. Ponies, dragons, Discord, all gathered here? I nearly had an ulcer.”
“Oh no! I didn’t mean--”
“Figure of speech. The point is, I’ve spoken to a lot of ‘lings since then, and I’ve changed my mind. It should work, so long as Fluttershy keeps her pet demon in check.”
“You really shouldn’t talk about Discord--”
“I meant that rabbit of hers.”
“Oh. Yes, she’s assured me that Angel Bunny will be staying in Ponyville.”
“Good. Look. The plan is good. Maybe even great. Get some guests in here for the celebration, harvest the free love they give us, and improve international relations. Thorax, I have to give you credit for this. You were right, I was wrong.”
Thorax beamed. “Well, thank you, Pharynx! I must say--”
“But.”
“But?”
“But.” Pharynx rose from his chair and began to pace the perimeter of the office. “Sit down, brother.”
“I’d really rather not.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I’d prefer not to say.”
“I don’t doubt. Sit down, Thorax.”
“No! I won’t.”
Pharynx stopped. He stood right between his brother and the door. “Then will you at least take off the disguise?” he asked, plaintive.
Thorax’s mouth flapped, looking for a comeback. He stopped, drooped. A wave of green light passed over him, and Pharynx had to stifle a gasp. “You look like you lost a fight with a ton of bricks.”
“Love ya too, bro’,” Thorax slurred. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and his chitin was as dull as cardboard. Worse still, Pharynx could see small but distinct holes appearing in his legs.
He tightened his jaw. “How long has it been since the last time you slept?” he demanded.
Thorax frowned, deep in thought. “Mm. What day is it today?”
“The eleventh.”
“What day did Lacewing accidentally knock me out with a silver platter?”
“The fourth.”
“That long.”
Pharynx shut his eyes. “You’ve got to be-- you were out cold for two hours. When was the last time you slept before that?”
“Uh… the first.”
Pharynx ran a hoof down the bridge of his muzzle. “Two hours of sleep. In eleven days. Thorax, if you keep this up, you won’t survive until Longest Night!”
“I’m fine,” Thorax protested. “My connection with the hive helps. Whenever the other changelings are sleeping, I can, like… half-sleep. It’s all fine.”
“Thorax, you wouldn’t even sit down. That’s because you know that if you did, you wouldn’t wake up until the day after tomorrow. This is ridiculously unhealthy. It’s a danger to you and to the hive. You need a good night’s sleep and you need it now. Go to bed.”
“I can’t. There’s still so much to do. Gotta be perfect for the big day.”
“Then let me handle it! I’m good at making changelings do things perfectly!”
“Oh please,” Thorax snapped. “You wouldn’t know a good holiday party if it dumped eggnog on your head.”
Pharynx took a step back. Thorax straightened up as best he could. “I need to do this, Pharynx. I need to get this right.”
“You have time--”
“I don’t. Not with so much left to do. And on the big night, I’ll be there, moving around, greeting guests, making sure everything keeps going smoothly.”
Pharynx frowned. “Wait. You’re going to be hosting this?”
“I kinda have to. Since I’m, y’know, the host.”
“What about… what about me?”
“What about you?” Thorax glanced at the clock. “Look, I’m sorry Pharynx, I have to go, I promised Carapace that I’d help her choose the champagnes for our guests.” He flashed green, and immediately he looked perky and bright again. “I’ll see you later,” he promised, pushing past his unresisting brother and out the door.
Pharynx was left alone in his empty office, alone with his thoughts of holidays past, alone with thoughts of spending time with his brother. That time had become vanishingly small even before the holiday season had rolled around. “What about me?” he repeated.
***
“So, I guess we’re both alone for the holidays,” Pharynx concluded.
“Yeah…” Hope said. “But at least we’re alone together.”
He fixed her with a flat look. “I know, I know, I realized how cheesy it was the moment I said it,” she said. “I wish I could talk to your brother. I think right now, it might be easier for him to hear criticism from someone who hasn’t been regularly critiquing his holiday plans already.”
Pharynx heaved a sigh. “Yeah. If I could talk to that friend of yours, I might be able to get through to him. My past hasn’t exactly been sunshine and rainbows, either.”
Hope considered that. “You know…”
“What?”
“Never mind, it’s a stupid idea.”
“Probably, but that’s more than I’ve had. Spill.”
“Well, why don’t we? Let me talk to your brother while you talk to Sombra.”
Pharynx looked out the plate-glass window. “You were right, that is a stupid idea.”
“Oh.”
“But what the hell, it’s worth a shot. You give me your address and a key, I’ll sign a note that’ll get you past the guards on the hive. You, in the kitchen. Notepaper and a quill.”
“Do you think this is actually going to work?”
“I think it’s phenomenally stupid, and so is my brother. It’s a perfect match.”
They pushed aside their almost-untouched meals and bent their heads together. After a few long minutes, they both stood up, shook hooves, and departed.
After a few minutes more, one of the changelings spoke up. “You know, neither of them paid for their meals.”
“Do you want to chase down Prince Pharynx with the bill?”
***
The guard had been less of a hassle than Radiant Hope had expected. A few of them had approached her when she got in sight of the hive, but as soon as they saw Pharynx’s signature, which he’d wound up scrawling on the back of a napkin, they were all too willing to give her VIP treatment. Finding Thorax turned out to be more onerous a task. Every changeling she asked had seen him just five minutes ago, but in the time it took to her follow their directions, the king had moved on. It didn’t help that a couple of them half-recognized her as the one who’d talked Chrysalis into invading the Crystal Empire that one time.
Finally, Radiant did what she ought to have done from the very beginning. She asked to speak to King Thorax’s secretary, a bespectacled male changeling with a cheerful and efficient demeanor. He gave her a copy of Thorax’s itinerary for the day. In return, she suggested that he might want to cancel all of the king’s scheduled tasks for the next day or so. He smiled and gave a slight nod. “I’ll get a team of guards to carry him to bed.”
Clearly, Thorax’s attempts to disguise his exhaustion weren’t working quite as well as he might have hoped. Whatever. If it got Radiant more support from Thorax’s inner circle, so much the better. She managed to track the king down in the south wing of the hive, where he was overseeing the placement of a number of decorations on the walls. “Yes, just a little bit higher, Citronella. A little to the left. No, Petronella, I was talking to Citronella. You need to go back to where you were. Segment, we want to avoid clustering the baubles, remember? Spread them out a little bit.”
Hope cleared her throat. “Your highness?”
He spun around. “New pony!” he said. “Sorry. I mean, hello. Can I… help you at all?”
Hope stalled. She really hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Um… Pharynx sent me.”
Thorax’s smile fell. “Oh.”
“He says, um, that you really need to get some rest before…” She glanced around the hall. Inspiration struck as a door caught her eye. “Before sweeping out the hive tomorrow.”
“Sweeping out the hive?” Thorax’s brow knit. “I don’t remember that being on the itinerary.”
Hope held her breath. Thorax shrugged. “Well, it’s a long list. I guess I can’t remember everything. But I can definitely sweep out the hive!” He turned and marched straight for the broom cupboard that had caught Hope’s eye. “See who’s tired after this!”
He threw open the door and took a half-step inside. Hope rushed up behind him and knocked him into the closet. “Quick, give me that ladder,” she ordered, slamming the door and pressing her whole weight against it.
The changelings exchanged awkward glances. “Oh, I’ll do it myself,” Hope grumbled, snatching away an unused stepladder and jamming it under the doorknob, which was rattling quite frantically. “Go decorate somewhere else. Your king needs some sense talked into him before he has a nervous breakdown.”
There was some awkward shuffling, but slowly they all departed as their king shouted and banged on the inside of the closet door. Hope took a deep breath. “Now, your majesty,” she said in her best ‘talking-sense-into-Sombra’ voice. “All this fuss isn’t going to get you anywhere. I just need to tell you something, and then you’ll be free to go.”
There was a moment of silence. “Speak your piece.”
Hope nodded. “Your highness, your brother misses you.”
“Whaddya mean? We live in the same hive, we’re at council meetings together, he gives me reports on our security…”
“Yes, your highness. But when’s the last time you just spent time with him?”
A long silence followed that. “Er…” said Thorax.
“You know that Pharynx loves you, don’t you?”
“...Yeah.”
“He’s worried about you, King Thorax. Your whole hive is worried about you. You’re tearing yourself apart over this party. It’s an important party, sure, but it isn’t as important as your own safety. Not to your brother, not to your hive, and not to your guests.”
Thorax didn’t reply. Encouraged, Hope pressed on. “Trust in your subjects, your majesty. Trust in your brother. You can put together a great Longest Night party without stressing over every detail. Relax, please, and if you love your brother, if you care about him at all, you’ll spend the holiday season close to him. Just say you will, and I’ll let you out.”
For a long moment, Thorax said nothing. The moment dragged on. Hope shuffled her hooves. “Your highness?”
A soft snore was her only reply. She rolled her eyes, sat down to await the promised team of guards, and began mentally composing the note she’d write for the king once he woke up.
***
Sombra stared at the ceiling of his dingy bedroom. The house was quiet. It had been quiet for some time. He hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d heard the front door slam closed. Even now that it had swung open again, he barely reacted, having long sunk into a trancelike state of self-loathing and paralyzing regret. His entire body was numb.
There once was a scientist named Fig Newton, mainly famous for discovering how gravity affects the motions of the heavens and for the sheer number of things that were dropped on his head over the course of his lifetime. He also made a number of deeply significant discoveries about the laws of motion; for instance, the law of inertia. Newton determined that a body in motion would stay in motion, and a body at rest would remain at rest, until some outside force acted upon them.
He would have been pleased to see his law being enforced. Sombra’s body at rest was abruptly acted upon by somepony kicking open the door to his bedroom. The former king screamed, his limbs suddenly shaking off the weight of his sins as they struggled to go from reclining on the bed to leaping off it in the space of a second. Instead, he faceplanted into the floor.
The intruder gazed at him for a long moment. “Well. Isn’t this embarrassing.” He pulled Sombra upright.
The unicorn regarded him warily. “Who are you? What have you done with Hope?”
The intruder-- a changeling, Sombra realized, he hadn’t recognized the new standard form-- rolled his eyes. “She’s fine. She’s back at the hive, talking some sense into my idiot brother, bringing us quite nicely to why I’m here.”
“Why is that?”
“To talk some sense into her idiot best friend.”
“I’m not sure I follow. Who are you exactly?”
“Pharynx,” the changeling replied, flicking on the lights. “There, isn’t that better? Letting a little light into your life isn’t going to kill you, is it?”
Sombra stared at him, completely confused. The changeling’s-- Pharynx’s-- face tightened. “Is it?” he repeated.
“I… suppose not?”
“Cupid, you’re a piece of work,” Pharynx muttered. “And your bedroom is emptier than my office, which is saying something.”
Sombra cocked his head. “Did you come here solely to insult my interior decoration?”
“No, but it’s a bonus. I’m here to reawaken your Hearth’s Warming spirit.”
“Then you have come on a fool’s errand,” Sombra said, turning away. “My right to joviality was sacrificed long ago--”
“Cut the gothic,” Pharynx snapped. “Your ‘right to joviality’? Seriously?”
“What would you know of it?”
“What, of doing things you aren’t proud of? Of being a bad guy? Hurting others? Of course I know. I nearly lost my own brother because I hated how he was running things.”
“Have you ever destroyed an empire? Conducted a reign that led to the slaughter of thousands?”
“No.”
“Well, then.”
“Okay, fine. You did a lot of bad stuff, and now you’re making up for it. Great. That isn’t why you don’t want to celebrate.”
Sombra glanced back at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You don’t want to celebrate because deep down, you’re enjoying your little pity party. You sacrificed your ‘right to joviality’? Please. Saying you’ve got a martyr complex is like saying the sun is a little toasty, or Discord is kind of a kook.”
Sombra scowled, and turned to face Pharynx again. “What would you know of it?”
“I was one of the last changelings to turn pretty and colorful. Trust me, I know when somecreature is trying to be edgy.”
Sombra put a hoof to his heart. “Edgy?”
“Yeah, you heard me. But whatever. Be a martyr, fine. Sulk in your bedroom, wear all black, fine. But you know what isn’t okay? Putting that on your friend.”
Sombra frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Radiant Hope is tearing herself in half over you!” Pharynx said, stomping a hoof. “How obtuse can you be? You’ve left her with the worst choice I can think of. Either she goes to celebrate and have a nice time while knowing you’re miserable and alone, or she stays with you in your edgelord pit while every other pony gets a dose of holiday spirit!”
Sombra took a step back. “But--” he sputtered. “I told her she could celebrate without me.”
“Oh yeah, ‘my best friend is flaying himself because he was possessed by evil and made everypony miserable a thousand years ago. Happy holidays!’”
“...She thinks that?”
Pharynx smacked his head. “Look. I get that ponies can’t see emotions like changelings can, but get a freakin’ clue! You’re spreading your misery around, Sombra. Is that what you want? To make everypony as miserable as you are?”
“Of course not!” For a moment, Pharynx could see trails of phlogiston around the stallion’s eyes, and he instinctively flinched.
In the next moment, Sombra had shrunk away, as though he was the one who was frightened. “You see? I still don’t have it under control. I’m not reformed. I’m still the monster I always have been. I have no place in this holiday.”
Pharynx took a deep breath in. “You really think you aren’t reformed?”
“I know it for certain.”
“Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe you are a monster, and maybe you’ll never be anything but.”
Sombra stirred, surprised by the bluntness.
Pharynx’s voice softened. “But you’re trying. You’re always trying. I can taste it on you, how much you want to be good. I dunno about you, but I think that’s pretty important. Look how far you’ve come, Sombra.”
“Not far enough.”
“It’ll never be far enough. You’ll always feel empty inside. That kind of guilt never goes away.”
“Weren’t you trying to convince me to have some holiday spirit?”
“It’ll never go away. Not unless you force it out.”
Sombra lifted his gaze from the floor to meet Pharynx’s eyes. “She cares about you, Sombra. She wants you to be happy. I can’t tell you how to feel, but I suggest you let her try, if nothing else.”
He turned and left. Sombra sat alone in his empty room, considering.
***
Pharynx hadn’t seen Hope on his way back to the hive. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, but he made a note to ask the guards about any pony intruders that they had perhaps overzealously taken prisoner. First, though, he needed to ask about his brother. He was quite surprised to be directed to Thorax’s chambers before he’d even finished a sentence. Looking around more carefully, he saw more smiles than he had in two weeks, and the preparations were coming along much more quickly than anticipated.
He barely dared to hope as he hurried toward his brother’s private rooms. Had she done it, after all?
The bedroom was dark, but that was alright. Changelings had good night vision, and the light from the hallway helped. There was a figure lying on top of the covers. A blanket had been thrown over him, but Pharynx could tell from the size of the lump that it could be no other than his brother. He stepped into the room, and Thorax stirred in his sleep.
Pharynx froze in his tracks, but it was already too late. Thorax lifted his head. “Phar’?” he murmured. “‘Zat you?”
“...Yeah. Hey.”
“You sent a mare to make me go to sleep?”
“...Yeah.”
“Hh. ‘m sorry.”
Pharynx blinked. “Sorry? For what?”
“Shutting you out.” Thorax rolled over and managed to sit up. “Being a control freak. Almost ruining the Longest Night for everyling. Mostly for shutting you out, though.”
“Thor, I--”
“I didn’t hear most of what Hope tried to tell me,” Thorax continued. “I fell asleep in a broom closet.”
“A broom-- what?”
“But I caught the most important parts, and that was that I hurt you. That’s why I’m sorry, Pharynx. I was so focused on my duty to my kingdom, that I neglected my duty to my people, and to my family.”
Pharynx grunted. “Yeah, alright. I forgive you. Now, get some rest, alright?”
He turned to go. “Hey Pharynx?”
He paused. “Yeah?”
“It occurs to me that you’ve been up all night, too. Shouldn’t you be going to bed?”
“I am, yeah.”
There was a long, pregnant pause. “Oh,” said Pharynx as the penny dropped. “Ugh. Fine. But if I hear anyling out there calling me a snuggly buggly--”
“You won’t,” Thorax promised. “C’mon, we just agreed that we don’t spend as much time together as we’d like…”
Pharynx grumbled as he shut the door and crawled in bed next to his brother. “You’re being the little spoon,” he said sharply.
“I’m more than fine with that.”
Pharynx threw the covers over himself and put a hoof around his brother.
“Love you, Pharynx.”
“Good night, Thorax.”
“Good night, Pharynx.”
There was a long silence. “...Love you too, Thorax.”
***
Hope didn’t encounter Pharynx on her way home. She tried not to worry about that. He’d struck her as being pretty headstrong, and she wasn’t sure how Sombra would react to that. Were they still arguing?
A brief image of a glowing red horn and eyes leaking phlogiston like smoke ran through her head. Just as quickly, she dismissed it. It wasn’t right of her to still think like that about him. He was a good stallion now. He policed himself more vigilantly than any of the guards Celestia had sent to ‘check up’ on them. If she couldn’t believe that, how could she ever hope to make Sombra think that way? She saw the house up ahead. It was dark save for one window glowing a rich, buttery yellow, the window that lead into the kitchen.
As she drew close to the house, she was able to see a lone figure sitting at the kitchen table, sipping occasionally from a mug. She pushed open the door and trotted into the unlit hallway. “Sombra?”
She peered into the kitchen. “Good evening Hope.” Sombra levitated up a kettle. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She took the seat opposite him.
Sombra poured her out a cup. She spooned in a little sugar and a tablespoon of cream. “Are you upset with me?” she asked.
His eyebrows lifted. “That seems like something I should ask you.”
“I told a random changeling about our argument and asked him to come and talk to you. I wouldn’t exactly have been thrilled if I were in your horseshoes.”
“That is true.” He took a sip of coffee. “He wasn’t very nice about it.”
“Oh.”
“But I think it was for the best.”
“Oh?”
“Hope, I am sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but that isn’t any kind of excuse.”
She nodded silently.
He let out a small, rueful chuckle. “Funny, isn’t it? I felt so guilty about hurting others that I wound up hurting you. No, funny isn’t the word.”
“Ironic.”
“Yes.” Sombra sighed and set his mug down. “Hope. I would love to celebrate Hearth’s Warming with you. Or-- I think it would be good for me. Or it would make you happy. Or some combination of those three things. But I’m frightened, as well. I meant what I said, earlier. I don’t feel like somepony like me deserves holiday cheer.”
Hope gave him a small smile and put her hoof over his. “Then it’s a good thing that happiness isn’t kept back for everypony who ‘deserves’ some, isn’t it?”
He hesitated for a moment, but then gripped her hoof back. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
***
The hive glowed like a star, visible over miles of the flat scrubland. Every nook and cranny held a lump of bioluminous material, or a candle, or a ball of magic-powered lights.
Inside, the party was in full swing. Not only had the entire hive come to celebrate the Longest Night, many old friends had managed to make it as well.The Elements of Harmony had happily attended. Applejack had even brought a few of her family members along. In one room, Trixie had roped Starlight Glimmer into helping with an impromptu magic show. Elsewhere, Spike was leading Big Macintosh and Dragon Lord Ember around some of the neatest places he’d found in the hive. Even the princesses themselves had turned up. Luna in particular was absolutely tearing up the dance floor. Celestia was having less of a good time. Discord had turned her tail into mistletoe, and she had spent half the party trying to get her revenge.
Thorax and Pharynx sat together at a fairly central table near the main entrance, quietly talking and laughing. Occasionally, other partygoers stopped by for a chat, or simply to congratulate the royal brothers on a party well-thrown. Pinkie Pie in particular had managed to throw together a list of her top ten favorite parts of the event.
Mostly, though, the two were content just to spend time together, to laugh and talk and simply be with one another. However, Thorax noticed that as the evening wore on, Pharynx kept throwing glances toward the main entrance. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I guess not,” Pharynx said, looking back at his brother. “I thought I might try and invite along a friend I made recently. I suppose she couldn’t make it.”
Thorax gave a small smile. “A certain crystal mare?”
“And her best friend as well. Oh, well. I suppose it was something of a long shot.”
Thorax craned his neck. “I wouldn’t say that.”
Pharynx looked back over his shoulder. Hope smiled at him and waved. Next to her, Sombra stood, head bowed low and sheepish, but he was smiling, just a little.
Pharynx rose and made his way over to them. “Glad you could make it.”
Hope smiled up at him. “We decided that this would be a good trial run for our Hearth’s Warming celebration,” she explained. “Fewer associations with the holiday. And, of course, to thank you in pony for helping.”
“Didn’t realize it would be so crowded,” Sombra murmured, glancing around.
Hope nodded. “Yes, are there any quieter areas of the party?”
“You don’t have to--” Sombra began.
“No, but I want to. What makes you comfortable is important, Sombra.”
Pharynx watched as Sombra’s smile grew, and the changeling smiled in turn. “Most of the party’s up front. It’s much less crowded on the far end of the hive. I think there’s also a meditation seminar somewhere, but you’d have to ask around about that.” Somewhere on the third floor?”
“I think we’ll just try the back for now. Thanks, Pharynx.”
He smiled. “Thank you, too. This is the best Longest Night I’ve had in a long time.”
She nodded. “It was my pleasure. Happy Longest Night, Pharynx.”
He watched them depart, talking and smiling, towards the quieter areas of the hive. Pharynx smiled too. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Hope.”
