On a particularly peaceful day in the Changeling Hive, Pharynx was doing his rounds to make sure everything was running smoothly and there was no threat to disturb it. Of course, he didn’t really feel like checking in on the craft time table or the… ugh, feelings forum. Just the mere mention of it made him want to hack up a slimeball.
So here he was, navigating outside the Hive. It was quiet. Twigs snapped in the grass, the trees danced in the breeze, the shrubbery brushed against his legs as he passed through it.
Simply put, it was peaceful… almost too peaceful for Pharynx.
Grumbling to himself, Pharynx looked around the clearing he’d walked himself too. Patterns of light cascaded through the trees like tresses of silk; what little light seeped in allowed him to marvel in the cool shade as shapes of both shadow and light danced across his dark chitin and shone down on his violet carapace.
Pharynx took a moment. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled through his nose. It was too quiet.
He snapped his head behind him when he heard a faint rustling in the brush. His heart started to pound and his muscles tensed. On instinct, he transformed into the wicked black and purple crab-monster he often took to as a means of defense, and started snarling at whatever was about to leap at him as a warning.
He did not expect to see a large lime green figure flop out ungracefully onto the ground, sputtering leaves and brushing them off his carapace. Thorax stood, patting his shoulders down, and Pharynx’s defense dropped. He looked up at the few twigs stuck in the grooves of his brother’s antlers.
Pharynx tried not to grin as Thorax struggled and failed to dislodge them. A few snickers slipped out of him. Admittedly, he had failed miserably, and soon wound up both a snickering and grinning mess. Quite the rare thing for the changeling general.
“Phaaarynx! This isn’t funny!” Thorax whined, It was the loudest thing Pharynx had heard all morning. “You just left me to check up on the craft time preparations!”
Pharynx huffed. “I already told you I wasn’t goin’ to wait. Five times! You’re the one who insisted you’d catch up.”
Thorax shook his head violently as the drapes of sunshine caught him through the tree tops, and out fell the leafy twigs.
Pharynx gave a small, jesting grin that would have been perfect if he’d still had fangs. “If anything, I’m surprised you found where I was without getting devoured by a maulwurf, or something.”
“It wasn’t that difficult to find you here, Pharynx.”
“I mean, honestly! Back when Chrysalis ruled, you couldn’t even track an ant in an anthill!”
“But they bite!” his younger brother protested.
“So did Chrysalis,” Pharynx said, matter of factly, sending a nearby pebble flying with a kick of his forehoof. “Didn’t stop you from kicking her off the throne.”
“I mean, I guess, but it wasn’t really like tha—”
Thorax was interrupted by the usually loud snapping of what they assumed was a twig nearby. The two turned their heads with wide compound eyes.
“Uh… Pharynx? What was that?”
“You ask like I know.” Pharynx couldn’t resist his change for sarcasm, and then snapped: “How the buck am I supposed to know?!” When Thorax didn’t provide a response beyond a nervous whimper, Pharynx sighed heavily. “Wait here.”
Pharynx didn’t hesitate, and in a flash of purple he was a snake slithering through the grass towards the noisy intruder. He ascended the side of a tree trunk and coiled around the highest branch, looking down below.
“Filthy, pathetic mares… and their stupid pet dragon…”
In the patchy clearing below, a—what Pharynx could only really describe as—ruggishly good looking unicorn stallion stomped through the puffy white heads of dandelions and the families of daisies and buttercups. His dark gray coat and pitch black mane contrasted greatly with the soft whites and bright yellows of the viridescent field.
He was one of those old-timey unicorns Pharynx had read about, with the curved-back horns… probably just another one of those immortals Thorax had told him about.
“And that blasted Spirit of Chaos… some lord he is…”
If Pharynx had brows in his serpentine form, one of them would have been raised. Just what was this stallion going on about?
A brightly coloured robin landed just next to Pharynx’s scaly head. Pharynx rolled his beady eyes. Of course Thorax hadn’t learnt how to obey the command ‘wait here’.
“And those disobedient little subjects of mine think they’re so clever as to watch me fall yet again…” the stallion growled bitterly, but it wasn’t a growl of a frustrated and annoyed pony, but of a vengeful, egotistical, and quite frankly maniacal tyrant.
What sort of Chrysalisian-born changeling would Pharynx have been if he couldn’t recognise it?
Pharynx watched as the dark stallion’s mane and tail wisp and flicked around on its own. It was as though it was made of pure shadow. It was rather ethereal. Like Princess Luna’s Thorax-damn mane… if it wasn’t so sparkly.
If Pharynx hadn’t known better, he would’ve gotten distracted by it. And he definitely knew better.
Definitely.
Only an idiot could have possibly been distracted by that black-as-night, tantalizingly swishing mane. That angrily flicking tail.
Only a complete and utter moron could have possibly concocted the sudden urge to stick their muzzle in it, just to see whether it had a solid form.
Pharynx wondered if he would classify as both of those things. Er—no, he didn’t! Because he wasn’t thinking about any of that. Definitely not. He knew Thorax probably did, though.
Pharynx then wondered if a suddenly strong gust of wind came, would the stranger’s mane just blow off, like smoke?
After some pondering, the dark changeling decided to test that theory.
Pharynx leapt off the tree branch, shapeshifting again in yet another flash of violet before he could hit the ground. In his place was a large black and purple roc. Pharynx landed behind the captivating intruder with a powerful gust of his large, raven-coloured wings.
Unfortunately, the stallion did not turn out bald. Understandably, he turned out angry. Angrier than when the changeling had first spotted him.
Pharynx figured he was just intimidated.
“What in Tartarus’ name?!” The unicorn exclaimed in his baritone voice. It turned out to be deeper than Pharynx’s. Just a little bit, though. Not that it mattered. Definitely not.
It did make Pharynx feel a sudden tingle in his stomach, though. Ew. Was this the way Thorax felt about that blue-barbed Dragon Lord of his? Couldn’t be.
Probably just nausea, he assumed, dismissing his previous idea without a second thought.
“Where did you come from?!” The pony’s eyes widened, and Pharynx came to realise that they were blood-red. (A quite attractive shade of red, actually.) To add insult to injury, he also had fangs.
Why did this pony—a pony no less—get to be fearsome and threatening, and yet he was stuck looking like a jewel beetle? A super dark and brooding jewel beetle, mind you, but still a jewel beetle.
And how the heck did he get fangs of all things, anyway?
“A roc?!” the unicorn bellowed as his mystifying, kempt mane danced. “There must be a dragon around…”
Pharynx could hear Thorax suddenly gasp from atop his little branch.
“Pharynx! Do you know who that is?” His brother tweeted down to him. “That’s King Sombra!”
Pharynx let out a grunt, and in a downward spiral of purple, he dropped his roc facade, with his intruder-catching sack held up high in his purple aura just above his head.
“Have you been carrying that the whole time we’ve been out?” Thorax whispered as he perched on Pharynx’s left antler.
The tyrant—now named King Sombra—smirked wickedly. Pharynx felt warm. “I suppose this is a changeling I’m speaking to? You don’t look like a changeling. But then again, you’re capable of shapeshifting, so perhaps—”
Pharynx was growing impatient with him. King Sombra didn’t look like much of a king, if you asked him; he wasn’t as tall as Celestia, there wasn’t a pair of wings to be seen, and he definitely didn’t have any antlers to even speak of. Then again, he wasn’t a changeling.
He was fairly handsome though, Pharynx admitted to himself, because he was feeling generous. And queasy.
“Cut the act already,” he snapped at the unicorn, and then he lunged, ready to tackle him to the ground. What Pharynx wasn’t expecting, however, was for his whole body to go through Sombra’s, and dandelion fairies to fly up from him landing straight onto his carapace.
When Pharynx opened his eyes, Sombra was above him—a forehoof either side of Pharynx’s head—and he was in his long shadow cast by the mid-sky sun. Pharynx had to squint to view the dark unicorn’s malicious smirk.
How did—
“I do believe that this angle suits you, my little ladybug.” Sombra gave a low, almost sultry cackle.
Pharynx, feeling particularly warm in the face, was pulled out from underneath the swarthy unicorn by a firm leg that grabbed him and helped him up. Thorax had transformed back and taken a stance next to him.
“Thorax! Stay back!” Pharynx stood, and then tried to capture the fanged fiend again, only for the same result to follow, but he got back up before Sombra could advance again. “What even are you?” he spat to the unicorn.
Sombra turned around, his ghostly mane whipping sharply. “Nothing,” he grinned like a wolf, and then he was gone in a wisp of smoke, only to reappear behind the changeling brothers, “and yet I can become anything.”
“What does that even mean..?” Thorax muttered, and Pharynx thought he could catch a glimmer of awe in his brother’s voice.
“Thorax!” Pharynx barked. “Who even is this guy?”
“I already told you, it’s King Sombra!” Pharynx blinked, and Thorax sighed. “You didn’t pay attention in my pony history class, did you?”
Pharynx remembered that class. It had been one of the best naps he’d ever had in his entire life.
“Pony history what now?” they heard Sombra parrot. “I had no idea changelings were so interested in my tale of vanquishing the Crystal Empire.” He gave yet another smirk. That Celestia dang smirk. It vanished as soon as it went, replaced with a frown, and - oddly - Pharynx frowned, too. “Only to be replaced with yet another alicorn mare… you know, some ponies might call that sexism.”
“You enslaved the whole Empire!” Thorax remarked. “What did you expect was going to happen?”
“The whole Empire?” Pharynx uttered in disbelief. “Really, what is it with ponies wanting to enslave everything..?”
“I know what you’re probably thinking, shapeshifter,” Sombra smirked again, and gave a mane flip, “‘How did he pull it off so effortlessly’?”
“How do they fail every single time?” Pharynx corrected.
“Really?” Thorax frowned. “That’s your only complaint?”
Sombra’s eyes bulged at Pharynx before he seemed to drink in his dark cyan form. “I beg your pardon?”
“Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?” Pharynx rolled his own eyes. “Can’t have succeeded if your broody rump’s so far away from the Empire.”
“Why you pretty little—”
“I think we’re getting a little off track—” Thorax commented, before being cut off.
“No kidding.” Pharynx shook his head and lifted up his sack with his purple magic. “Get in the sack, fiend!”
Sombra merely arched a brow at the demand. Then he grinned smugly. “You really think your miserable little sack will properly contain me?”
Anger boiled under Pharynx’s chitin. His wings buzzed involuntarily before he lunged at Sombra again. And again, he went through him as if he was just a vapor. Pharynx skidded on his hooves, breathing heavily.
“Oh, very well,” Sombra feigned disappointment, “if you insist. I do suppose I could take some time to squish some pesky little bugs. No matter how-” Sombra licked his lips as he eyed up Pharynx, who opened his wings to make himself seem a bit bigger, “fetching you may be.”
Before Pharynx could properly process that comment, a black beam shot out of Sombra’s red-tinted horn in his direction. The changeling dodged out of the way, and when the beam impacted with where Pharynx had previously stood, it left a patch of smoking grass.
“Look at that!” Pharynx jeered. “Looks like somepony’s more than just a pretty face!”
Another beam was shot as Sombra began encroaching Pharynx’s position with a beguiling grin.
“Thorax! Don’t just stand there! Do something!”
“But you said—”
“Forget what I said!”
Thorax jumped next to Pharynx and ignited his horn in a bright blue aura. Up went a small magical shield.
“Wow. Nice going, Thorax.”
“Aw, thanks Pharynx! I haven’t really done something like that since—”
“Stay focused!” he demanded.
“Right!” Thorax yipped.
Another black blast from Sombra burnt through Thorax’s shield. “You foals really are pathetic!”
Pharynx took the initiative to pounce at Sombra again. This time, however, the unicorn ducked.
“Not bad,” Pharynx said as he landed on his hooves, “for an old timer.”
“Old timer?!” Sombra shrieked in offence. “Who are you calling an old timer?”
“The pony I’m defending my hive from!”
“Your hive?” Sombra repeated, scowling. “Tell me, what would I want with a couple hundred changeling drones?”
“Actually,” Thorax piped up, “we don’t use that word anymore. A lot of changelings found it offensi—”
“Damn it, Thorax, now’s not the time!” Pharynx exclaimed. Thorax shrank into himself. “Can’t you see I’m smash talking here?” He turned back to Sombra, who’s dark face was holding a particularly charismatic grin. “What do youwant from us? You don’t just come barging into a hive’s territory and attack their leaders without reason!”
“You’re the one who attacked me!” Sombra spat back.
“So you don’t try to enslave us like you did the Diamond Empire!”
“Crystal Empire,” Thorax corrected, and Pharynx shot him a horrifically pointed glare.
Sombra sighed heavily, mumbling. “I don’t know why I even bothered… guards are so difficult to put up with.” A black beam shot towards Thorax, but it was met with a beam of bright blue.
Pharynx huffed as the king and his brother dueled, “Tell me about it.”
Thorax groaned under the magical pressure his duel with Sombra made, and so for only a moment did his blue overtake the oily black.
Pharynx glanced over, struggling to figure out what to do. It was obvious Sombra was going to win this.
The tyrant gave a fanged grin. “Any last words, changeling?” he asked.
“I have some,” Pharynx said, looking at his brother. “Long live the king.”
“How kind,” Sombra said, and just as his black magic was about to singe Thorax’s horn, Pharynx rammed his whole body into Sombra’s. The two landed in the grass together, Pharynx successfully pinning Sombra into the grassy earth at last.
Pharynx was now on top of Sombra. Success!
None of them made a noise, save for Thorax’s heavy panting and Pharynx’s single, victorious laugh.
“Perhaps,” Sombra purred, and with led in his stomach Pharynx recognised his tone to be one of seduction, “it’s this angle that suits you best…”
Pharynx huffed in surprise. “What on earth are you—”
His eyes suddenly widened as he realised the position they were in. He inspected Sombra’s teasing grin, and almost reared up in objection. Yet… he couldn’t bear to move.
What dark magic had this fiend cast on him!?
“…Get in the sack,” Pharynx insisted at last, using his magic to lift up his sack once again.
“Do you say that to all of your enemies? Or am I just getting some special treatment now that I’m underneath you?”
“Just get in my sack!”
Sombra’s red eyes flashed devilishly as he smirked. It was an alluring smirk sent straight from Tartarus itself. The changeling stared at him for a few moments, before growling to himself in agitation and stepping away from the strangely hypnotic unicorn.
The summer heat felt as though it had increased drastically. Or at least Pharynx believed it did, as there appeared to be a hint of redness on his cheeks.
“My, how forward you must be with all the mares,” Sombra said. “And,” his grin grew as he looked Pharynx’s sack up and down, “what a lovely sack it is, too.”
“Zip it, Shady.” Pharynx growled like a terrier that would give its ball to its master. “You’re on thin ice. Now get in.”
“You have quite an attitude for a colourful little ladybug,” the unicorn remarked. He hesitated when getting to his hooves, however. “At this moment I realize that I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“When you tackled me to the ground I believe that you… injured my premium corvex!”
“Your what?” Pharynx frowned. He’d never heard of that before. It was probably just some fragile little pony part he’d never cared to learn about.
“I believe you might have to carry me!” Sombra decreed woefully, putting a hoof over his eyes dramatically.
“…If I carry you back, will you finally shut your yap?”
“Mark my words, changeling,” Sombra said, “you’ll never hear an ill-meant word from me for as long as I’m in your tremendous, heart-stopping hold!” Pharynx bit back a groan as he slid him onto his back. “Oh, my! My knight in shining armour!”
Pharynx grunted in strain as he tried to stand, his muscles in his legs trembling as he straightened them. “You’re the one wearing the armour, here, buddy. Gah—it’s probably why you’re so much heavier than you look.”
Sombra took offense to that. “Is that any way to speak to your king, bug?” He spat.
“What? It’s true!”
Thorax watched as his brother carried Sombra away in hesitation, “I guess we’re going back to the Hive, then?”
He didn’t get a response. Not that he was really expecting one anymore. Pharynx seemed… preoccupied enough as it was.
Walking back to the hive felt a lot longer when you were carrying ‘precious cargo’. Blabbering cargo, more like. Cargo that was threatening to throw him in jail for reprimanding royalty. If anything, Pharynx felt the urge to throw him off a cliff. At least then he’d finally be able to commit regicide and get away with it.
For all he knew, they could have been trotting their way uphill to Canterlot it had taken so long.
Sombra smelt like ash, especially in his mane and tail, Pharynx had discovered. But like ash from a candle. It clouded Pharynx’s olfactory senses and warmed his chest.
Naturally, by the time he and Thorax had gotten back with Sombra still detained on Pharynx’s back, they had contracted an audience of changelings all looking as if they’d come back with five extra heads or something.
Pharynx merely rolled his eyes back at them and scowled. “Move it, guys!” He declared. “We got ourselves a real feisty one, here.”
“Where’s he gonna go?” a yellow changeling asked with great concern saturating her voice.
“In the dungeons!”
Thorax’s eyes seemed to practically pop out of his head. “WHAT?!” He squealed in what Pharynx assumed was horror. “Since when did we rebuild the dungeons?”
Pharynx turned around. “Where do you expect to put any captured prisoners? In the timeout corner with all the nymphs?”
“But—” Thorax almost broke into a brief gallop to catch up with Pharynx, “But we haven’t even had any captured prisoners!”
“Well, brother,” he jeered, “we have one now.” He continued to carry him with shaky hooves, ignoring his brother’s protests.
As soon as he found the stairway to his destination, Pharynx couldn’t help but notice that Sombra had stopped talking entirely. Weird - he’d grown accustomed to the deep-toned blathering the unicorn had offered up until now. The tyrant was also gripping onto Pharynx suddenly for dear life.
Pharynx almost smiled at it.
That did not mean he liked it, though. Definitely not.
“So,” apparently he hadn’t shut up, at last, “where’s this queen of yours? Last time I saw her she was stuffing her muzzle with cupcakes.”
“Do we look like we’re still ruled by Queen Chrysalis, to you?”
“Now that I think about it, no… well, you may or may not be an exception. You seem to be the sore hoof in this conundrum, impressively enough.”
Fire may as well have blasted out of Pharynx’s eyes at that. “What did you just say about me?”
“Relax, I mean that…” Sombra trailed off for a few moments, “in a nice way.” He finished his statement, and then shuddered as if a bitter taste was left on his tongue. “Ugh, I’m starting to sound like one of those princesses. Especially that purple one.”
Pharynx blinked a few times in disbelief. “You mean that Trixie?”
Sombra sighed heavily. “Let’s just say that I can tell you’re among the few creatures I’ve met that are properly equipped in combat. I’ve just never seen such a dark,” he leaned close to Pharynx’s left ear, “strapping, majestic creature with the ability to match even the likes of I. I can only assume you’re the king around here.”
“…I wish,” was Pharynx’s only response in the form of a grunt. “We’re actually in the Thoracic era, not the Pharyngeal one.”
“In that case, I’m very much looking forward to the… Pharyngeal era,” Sombra said immodestly, making Pharynx feel all giddy and warm inside.
“Ain’t gonna be one, buddy,” Pharynx said. “I’m a general, not a king.”
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Pharynx unceremoniously dropped Sombra onto the floor before his muscles had a chance to cave in. The unicorn grunted loudly, and the sound noticeably echoed through the dim room.
Dim, and untouched by floral arrangements and hoof-crafted whatevers.
“Oh, my Celestia!” Thorax exclaimed as he suddenly came down the bottom of the stairs. “It’s so dark in here!”
“It’s how I like it,” Pharynx grumbled, and started to use his head to push Sombra through the rusty cell’s door that he had opened with his purple magic. He took one last glance at the red-horned unicorn before slamming the cell door shut and locking it. “There we go. Problem finally solved. See, Thorax? That’s how we take prisoners around here.”
Sombra held onto the bars as he sat in his haunches, pressing his underbelly against the rusty metal and trying to stick his head through as he made… abhorrently suggestive kissy gestures at Pharynx with his mouth and tongue.
…At least he wasn’t pole-dancing with the prison bars.
“We should contact Princess Twilight!” Thorax declared.
Pharynx raised a brow, prying his eyes away from the (admittedly intriguing) sight. “And tell her what? That he’s already been taken care of? You rely on those ponies far too much.”
“Pharynx, the ponies have been attacked by Sombra before. This is the pony who once took over the Crystal Empire. I'm pretty sure they need to know about this in case he escapes.”
“He won’t escape,” Pharynx said adamantly. “I’m gonna be the one guarding him. Starting now.”
“But—”
“But nothing, Thorax. Don’t you have somewhere to be, anyway?”
Thorax gasped. It was a terribly sharp, loud gasp that would have suggested that he had just witnessed Pharynx being murdered in cold blood.
Pharynx knew better.
“Oh my Celestia! I forgot we had the feelings forum today!”
“There we go,” Pharynx said, with a sliver of what someone might have guessed was encouragement. “Go ahead and win best drama queen in your campy little feelings circle.”
Thorax responded as he flew up the stairs from the dungeon: “It’s a feelings forum!”
“Didn’t ask!” Pharynx retorted, loudly.
The buzzing of Thorax’s frantic wings faded gradually. Pharynx stood there for a few moments, glancing around, then he looked at the rusty dungeon cell.
Sombra shot him a mocking smirk. “So, he’s the one who leads you? Pfft, figures.”
Pharynx scowled at his prisoner. “What does that mean?”
“It's just that it’s painfully obvious that friendship and light has touched even you changelings,” Sombra sneered. “It’s a shame, really. You used to be so formidable as fellow creatures of darkness. You’re all as much of an eyesore as the rest of Equestria, now! But, you seem to be the exception…”
Pharynx couldn’t help but crack a devious smirk. “I know I am. You told me that before we got down here. It was just so important you had to say it twice, huh? You’re startin’ to sound like a broken record.”
Sombra’s eyes bulged; they seemed to glitter like rubies. “Well, it’s true.”
Pharynx felt very hot all of a sudden. And not in the sense of attractiveness (unlike the locked-up unicorn here, admittedly.) No, he felt all sweaty and flushed like he had eaten a bad clam, or something. His rise in temperature contracted against the chill of the dungeon, which gave Pharynx the inkling that something was going wrong with him.
He reminded himself to visit the infirmary on his way out.
“Why are you still so insistent on keeping me company?” Sombra asked.
“What? You really think I’m going back up there?” Pharynx snapped back. “And leave you a chance to escape?”
“You make a fair point,” Sombra mused, as if he was turning Pharynx’s reasoning around in his mouth with his tongue. If Pharynx had fur on his personal form, it would have bristled.
“S’pose,” Pharynx grunted as he traversed around the space in front of the cell in an effort to avoid eye contact with this adonis. What? “The other reason’s that I wouldn’t have to be dragged to that Thorax-damn Feelings Forum.”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard,” the unicorn said in a lapse of impatience. “I’m guessing it’s as overly sappy and saccharine as it sounds?”
“I went to one, once,” Pharynx admitted, referring to the time he had disguised himself as a rock the day of those two pony friends of Thorax—whom he’d helped overthrow Chrysalis with—visited the hive. “It was much, much worse. It’s just some sort of gossip group when the creature they’re talkin’ about isn’t even there. Discussing their ‘problems’ my hoof.”
“My fine young ladybug,” Sombra fostered a purr, and Pharynx growled in defense, “you should be honoured that they wish to talk about you in their spare time. It means you’re a worthy factor in their lives.”
The changeling huffed, and then mumbled under his breath, “I guess. I mean, I may be worthy now, but back then I wasn’t. Back when I was the only one still unreformed, our hive had no army or defense! The one thing we did have was a trail of plants to lead the stinkin’ maulwurf away!”
“Maulwurf?” Sombra repeated. “What in my name is a maulwurf?” He spat.
“Half-mole, half-bear, half-raging-pile-of-crap, yaddi-yaddi-yadda,” Pharynx rolled his eyes. “Defeating it to protect the hive’s how I got to be like this.” He opened his elytra and buzzed his scarlet wings in demonstration.
“Your wings are as crimson as the bloodshed caused before the windigos fell,” Sombra awed. “How… enamouring.”
Pharynx cringed. He didn’t really get the reference, but envisioning such an image made the point clear enough. “You’re crazy.”
“For you, my fine warrior,” Sombra hissed delicately through his cell bars, revealing to Pharynx an almost serpentine tongue not too different from the one he used to own before his ‘Great Change’ (as Thorax had once put it), “I could be.”
“…What does that even mean?” Pharynx stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to look at Sombra with wide lilac eyes.
Sombra chuckled through his lips, and before Pharynx could say anything else, the unicorn went up in a thick, black mist and evaporated through the bars. Pharynx only had time to blink for Sombra to reappear in front of him, outside of his cell.
To say that the changeling was at a loss for words would be putting it mildly.
“You could do that the entire time?!” He yelled in both shock and surprise. “Why didn’t you do that sooner?!”
Sombra outstretched a hoof and tried cupping Pharynx’s chin with it. Pharynx swatted it away almost immediately.
Almost. Why just ‘almost’?
The unicorn shot him a tasteless grin. “I wanted to inspect your worthiness of my custody. But,” he put up an upset facade and feigned a sigh, “soon, I must take my leave.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Pharynx said pointedly. “Not that easily.”
“Hm,” Sombra hummed, almost in amusement, and his red eyes danced around Pharynx’s form. “Your antlers are too short for your horn.”
Pharynx’s hoof flew into the side of Sombra’s face, but it went right through and left a brief trail of dark vapor. The unicorn was getting too close for comfort, anyway.
“Where the hay do you think you’re going, anyway?!” Pharynx demanded, as if he was speaking to another one of his troops.
“As much as I should teach you not to disrespect your king like that,” Sombra said in a low voice that made Pharynx want to cross his front legs and absentmindedly kick whatever pebbles might have been on the floor next to his hooves, “I must admit, you’re rather attractive when you speak like that. Odd measurements aside.”
That sudden bad-clam heat returned, and Pharynx found himself sweating up a waterfall.
Sombra went to touch Pharynx’s face again, and before swatting his hoof away again, the changeling baulked. It was as if all of the breath had just been forcibly extracted from his chest.
Why does he keep doing that? he thought, unable to tear his gaze away from Sombra’s irresistible crimson eyes.
Sombra leaned in so closely that Pharynx could feel his breath up his nose. He finally swatted Sombra away and took a step back. The unicorn only grinned, “I see. Such a strong general such as yourself rendered a shy, flustered mess?”
Pharynx growled through gritted teeth, turning his head sharply. “As if.” He lied, using an incredulous tone.
“Say what you will, changeling.” Sombra gave another fanged grin. Pharynx felt as though it was made to taunt him. Or maybe just threaten him. If it was the latter, it was failing miserably.
It was the former, however, Pharynx was dismayed to admit to himself that it was working.
“Your nerves only make you more desirable to me.” The unicorn king continued on. Pharynx sat down against the cold stone floor of the dungeon. “You know, I’m surprised you’re not the one who’s ruling this flamboyant little hive of yours.”
“Let me guess… because I’m a firstborn?” the changeling mumbled.
“No.” Pharynx swore that Sombra’s voice was getting deeper. Huskier. “Because you’d make an excellent leader. Ruling with an iron hoof—just picture it! You’d be more feared than Queen Chrysalis ever was!” At this point, Sombra seemed to be grinning a little too much.
Pharynx was so warm now that he felt like a lobster being boiled alive.
“Usurp that brother of yours, and together we can form an allegiance, and rule Equestria side by side. What say you, my darling?”
Sombra touched under Pharynx’s chin again with his hoof. It was much gentler than before. Pharynx almost didn’t feel it at first, until the unicorn tried tilting his head up. This time—how many times had Sombra tried touching his face, now?—the changeling didn’t smack his hoof away.
The atmosphere between the two was thick. Very thick, like syrup. So thick, that Pharynx struggled to breathe. His heart was pounding so hard against his ribcage it might have broken through and lunged down Sombra’s throat.
White noise was all that Pharynx’s mind contained in that moment. Once his thoughts were finally raked up into one big, jumbled-up pile, he put one of his hooves on the unicorn’s broad, muscular chest—Pharynx almost gasped when he felt it—and gently pushed him away to decrease the intensity between them.
“You seriously think I’m stupid enough to actually take that offer?”
Despite the very slight height difference between the two, Pharynx found himself looking up at Sombra. Had Sombra successfully tilted his head up? Or was it because he was still sitting? Had Sombra somehow managed to lift him to his hooves? Pharynx was befuddled.
The unicorn’s iron horseshoe was cold and crisp against Pharynx’s dark chitin, opposing how warm he was actually feeling.
Sombra hummed contentedly. “T’was worth a shot…” he took his hoof away from Pharynx’s chin, and the changeling’s heart skipped a beat. “We could have ruled side by side, as king and king. Imagine the possibilities we could have had. The riches I could have spoiled you with…”
“I already told you, I’ll pass,” Pharynx answered firmly. As enchanting as what Sombra built himself up to be, he wasn’t slick enough to pull one over on Pharynx. At least, Pharynx didn’t think so.
No. He definitely was not slick enough to pull one over on him.
Those riches had sounded appealing, though…
“Hmph. Have it your way then.” Sombra retreated an inch or so away from Pharynx.
“I will,” Pharynx retorted.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!” Pharynx yelled impatiently. As he went to lean forward defensively, his horn clinked against Sombra’s. His horn was… softer than what should have been normal. Almost like cork.
“…what the..?” the changeling breathed out, now grazing the curved horn with his own horn and front hooves.
“And just what do you think you’re doing now, changeling?” Sombra asked. Though, he still gingerly pressed his head closer to Pharynx’s.
“What you’ve been trying to do to me since your escape!” Pharynx improvised, and—as he softly rubbed his horn against Sombra’s, a display which Pharynx believed to be of affection in namby pamby pony culture—found all his previous desires to discover what the unicorn’s smoky mane felt like fulfilled.
It was almost like resting your hooves on a cloud. Almost, given that it still smelled like candle-wick ash, but at the same time it was quite heavenly. Pharynx couldn’t even help but stroke his hoof through it. Then another hoof. Before long, both of his hooves were submerged in the thick forest that was Sombra’s mane.
Sombra merely stared as the changeling continued caressing. Before he knew it, his head was leaning to the side. With a chuckle, he asked, “Eager, aren’t we?”
“How the hay do you brush this stuff?” Pharynx only muttered, rendered speechless beyond that. “With a pitchfork, it looks like. It would explain the angry-mob smell.”
“It seems my little ladybug has trouble… opening himself.”
“Your ladybug?” Pharynx spat. He himself thought he looked nothing like one, especially when compared to Ocellus. Clearly Sombra was trying to patronise him. “And who are you calling ladybug?”
“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps the only other individual in this room,” that purr of his was back, now. “Who else did you think, my strapping little changeling?”
Pharynx growled in irritation but then felt his wings buzz. This regal stallion was once again starting to get under his chitin. Pharynx withdrew both of his hooves and stood up. As much as he’d rather not be anywhere near his brother’s saccharine hive activities, even he could only handle being in a dungeon for so long.
He wouldn’t permit himself to stay any longer, no matter how much he really wanted to. Being a good general meant withstanding all temptation, after all.
There was this bitter yet desirable taste of affection in his mouth too that—being a changeling—he could feel permeate the air from Sombra’s pores. Strange, usually affection was a sweet, warm emotion. Yet whatever Sombra had done to himself made his flavored like burnt toast, or nicotine.
It was addicting enough to be the latter, but like Pharynx had said: he would not give into temptation.
No matter how tempting Sombra was.
“Alright,” Pharynx proclaimed, “that’s enough huggy-feely stuff to last me a lifetime! And I thought my dork of a brother went overboard with all that gunk.”
“Are you referring to me as somepony who partakes in gunk? How dare you!”
“You were ‘partaking’-” Pharynx didn’t understand why royals, especially pony royals, had to keep to such fancy-talk, “-in it right now, so yes, I did. Now, if you excuse me…”
Sombra tried to block the changeling from exiting the dungeon. “Leaving so soon?”
“I have a job to fulfill and a life to live, thanks.” Pharynx retorted.
“And leave a villain the likes of I all alone?” Sombra taunted. “Blasphemy!”
Pharynx shot him a blank stare. “What kind of lame ‘villain’ calls himself a villain?”
“A villain that is proud of their work as a villain.” Sombra decreed almost triumphantly. “I managed to take over the Crystal Empire three times over!”
“You failed each time,” Pharynx pointed out blankly.
“Including the rest of Equestria,” Sombra proceeded as if Pharynx hadn’t even interjected at all. “I’d made it right past the Canterlot guards and sat on the throne of Celestia herself!”
“So did I,” Pharynx challenged.
Sombra froze in place for a moment, then he reeled at the notion. “You did?”
“Chrysalis’ second invasion,” Pharynx told pridefully. “I had impersonated Celestia herself. Not a single one of her subjects even noticed that it wasn’t their real princess.”
Sombra peered at Pharynx with narrowed eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
Pharynx scoffed out a haughty chuckle. “Your loss.”
“Prove it.”
“If I prove it, will you finally leave me be and get back into your prison cell?”
“It’s a promise,” Sombra bared his fangs with a malicious grin. “And I’m nothing if not a stallion of my word.”
Pharynx knew that grin. He used to make those types of grins, once. “I don’t believe you.”
Sombra reared onto his haunches. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a crystal in my eye!”
The changeling gawked at the scene. “You have a heart?” he asked blatantly.
“One as black as night,” Sombra replied, wickedly.
Pharynx groaned, and in an uproar of purple flame, he shifted into Celestia. Every detail was perfect—from her long, flowing mane right down to the amount of hairs in her perfect little nose.
“Are you satisfied yet, Sombra?” Pharynx said, as Celestia, and used one of his dainty forehooves to cup Sombra’s chin, as he had with him just moments ago.
The stallion’s jaw dropped as he leered at Pharynx’s temporary form; this changeling wasn’t lying.
Pharynx cleared his throat. “I hereby banish you, Sombra, to the stars!” He enacted. “That’s what she said to Starswirl, right?”
“Uh… no,” Sombra answered as Pharynx shapeshifted back. “How you managed to fool an entire nation, I’ll never know,” Sombra shook his head. His shadowy mane shook alongside it.
“Me neither,” Pharynx only uttered as he began making his way towards the stairs. “I guess you ponies are just too dumb not to be fooled.”
Sombra huffed, remembering the… promise he’d made with the changeling. (Thank himself no one but Pharynx witnessed him doing that.)
“Wait!”
Pharynx would’ve dug his claw into the stone step he was on, if he had any.
“…What now?”
Just as Pharynx had time to turn back to look at Sombra, the unicorn had lunged towards him and grabbed his face.
“What the—?”
This again?
Pharynx felt exceptionally warm again. “What’s the big idea?!”
“You are a creature worth marveling at!” He declared. Pharynx rolled his eyes for effect, but secretly he was transfixed on the dark unicorn’s words.
He only stared into the bloody cesspools that were Sombra’s eyes.
Shoot… he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to leave just yet. Was the silver-tounged tyrant’s flirting actually working on him? No, it couldn’t have been—after all, Pharynx was a changeling, and if anyone was meant to be conniving and flirty here, it should have been him, not some pretty pony!
But then again…
After a moment of silence, Pharynx let out a heavy sigh. “Fine then. Just a few more minutes. But that’s it.”
Sombra smirked. “I’ll have you regretting that time limit before you know it.”
Pharynx only narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you want it to mean,” Sombra said, as he used his dark magic to pull Pharynx closer to him. This time, however, the changeling’s carapace was pressed firmly against his muscular chest.
Pharynx felt like dying. He felt clammy and hot and bothered, yet his mind refused to get his body moving. He felt… secure, and he wasn’t quite too sure why.
Emotions and feelings and stuff were all so dumb. Erratic. Unexplainable. Satisfyingly delicious, but still dumb.
“Tell me what you’re currently feeling, ladybug…” Sombra said in Pharynx’s ear, which made it flick involuntarily. A deep exhale travelled through Sombra’s nose, and it tickled him profusely. Almost as much as when the unicorn gave him a nuzzle on the back of the neck.
“What? So you can use it against us to find all our weak points?” asked Pharynx sharply, not missing a beat despite the vapor in his mind.
An amused chuckle broke free from Sombra’s throat. He trailed a hoof down the front of Pharynx’s neck, to his chest. Pharynx grabbed it before it travelled to his underbelly.
“Maybe,” he said, playfully.
Pharynx tried to glare, but he let out an uncharacteristic yelp as Sombra’s other hoof jabbed at his stomach. “Why you little—”
“Language, ladybug,” Sombra said, interrupting him, and the changeling’s blush only grew, “it’s rather unbecoming, don’t you think?”
“Could say the same about you,” Pharynx retorted.
“But you won’t? Interesting…” Sombra purred, leaning against him and resting head on his.
All of Pharynx’s instincts told him to shrug the beast of a stallion off. He could’ve. He would’ve.
But he didn’t.
Sombra carefully twisted Pharynx around by a few degrees so that they were almost face-to-face. Try eye-to-eye.
“What?” Was all Pharynx could ask, sharply.
Sombra didn’t answer, instead pulling the changeling in closer and resting his chin atop his head. Then, he deftly swooped and pressed his nose against the side of Pharynx’s.
Pharynx flinched in surprise. He could so easily transform into a timberwolf and bite his face off…
…but he didn’t.
Why didn’t he?
“You could be my king, Pharynx…” Sombra whispered huskily.
“…I’m a general. Not a king.”
“Playing dumb, are we..?” Sombra tsked through a small chuckle that gave Pharynx a shiver down his carapace. “No matter. A king needs his general.”
“Thorax is my king,” Pharynx said woodenly, almost beginning to tremble under Sombra’s caressing hoof. “End of story, Shady.”
“Are you sure, my little ladybug..?” Sombra purred again.
“Positive.” Pharynx huffed. He eyed the unicorn’s facial features, up and down. Perhaps… if he kissed him—Pharynx blushed at the thought—he’d finally shut up?
Pharynx decided to test that theory. He shut his eyes tightly and leaned forward with a hoof encroaching Sombra’s left cheek.
Sombra’s cheeks contracted as he smirked widely. As he closed his scarlet eyes, his muzzle smashed into Pharynx’s.
The changeling’s lilac eyes practically popped out of their sockets… before slowly drifting back into a closed state. His heart thrummed against his chest in rhythm with Sombra’s… his hooves travelled around the sides of the pony’s barrel, under his fur-lined cloak…
Sombra squeezed Pharynx tightly, pressing his curved horn against his, his own hooves marveling at the smooth texture of the changeling’s amethyst-like carapace.
It was almost as if Pharynx himself was a rare crystal.
Actually, Sombra decided that the changeling was worth far more than that.
Thorax yawned as he finally got up from his seating on the stone floor of the feelings lforum. It had taken surprisingly longer than what he’d anticipated, today.
Sclera had taken the stage concerning Sombra’s potential stay here, and Trachea had vented about how she was always feeling a bit blue, but her chitin was pink.
He really hoped that Trachea would be able to work things out with herself.
The changeling king winced at the pain in his rump—if he had known the feelings forum had taken this long, he would’ve gotten a craft time-made pillow to sit on. He looked up at the sky, which was now dark and speckled with stars, with Luna’s moon hanging over all of them.
…And just where the heck was Pharynx all this time anyway?
Probably keeping his word and guarding Sombra. But still… perhaps he should go and check in on him. Pharynx wasn’t really gonna stay down there forever, was he?
Rubbing his eyes with the back of one of his hooves, Thorax trotted over to the entrance to the dungeon and carefully made his way down the stairway.
What he overheard next made him stop dead in his tracks. He would’ve fallen down the rest of the stairs if he hadn’t clutched onto the wall.
“You are simply divine, ladybug. That suits you ravishingly.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Quit trying to butter me up.”
“One of a kind…” Thorax’s breath almost got knocked out of his chest. “Who’d ever want to hurt you?”
“Really?” Pharynx replied, in a… surprisingly playful tone. “Because, I thought we met through mortal combat.”
“…Pharynx?” Thorax called down. “You still down here—uh—brother?”
“Shoot, uh—yeah, I am!” Pharynx replied. “Quick! Get back in the cell, or something.”
“Embarrassed, are we?”
“I said get in the cell! Come on, just do it!”
Thorax blushed. “Pharynx? I’m coming down!” Bracing himself with the shakiest pair of forelegs he’d ever known himself to have, he slowly descended the rest of the stairs. His heart was pounding so hard it made him feel ill.
Part of him thought he’d pass out as soon as he reached the very bottom.
Pharynx was sitting on his haunches in the middle of the dark, stony room, with a more than nervous look on his face. Thorax knew that look. It was a look mischievous foals—mostly Flurry Heart—would give to their caretakers when they knew they had done something wrong, even when the evidence was smeared all over their face.
“…Hey, bro, what’s up?” He asked as Thorax looked him up and down, and then did the same with Sombra behind bars, who was wearing an uncharacteristic frown. “Back so soon?”
“Pharynx, it’s night.” Thorax stated. “What are you still doing down here? I thought you’d be coming up by now and put someling else on duty.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, totally,” Pharynx said swiftly, almost absently, sneaking a few glances at the once-again-caged Sombra. “Totally. I’ll—uh—be up, now.”
“Oh,” Thorax said, a bit awkwardly, now feeling a bit like the third wheel on a tricycle. “Well, I, erm… okay then!” He pulled his cheeks into a bright, big grin.
“Okay?”
“Okay!”
“Okay.”
“Okay!” Perhaps they’d exchanged one to many okays before it became uncomfortably awkward.
Thorax furrowed his brows. The suspense was too much for him. “Oh, and, uh, Pharynx?”
Pharynx mirrored his brother’s frown, and Thorax noticed that he was sweating a little. “Yeah?”
“How come you’re wearing Sombra’s cloak?”
Author's Note
I must say, this was a blast to write.
This story was a collaboration between me and eemoo1o, who has a few stories of their own that are very much worth checking out. Two of their ongoing works are A King’s Brood and My Little Pony: Broships Are Magic. The former focusing on Thorax and his ascension, as well as facing his inner demons. The latter is a rewrite of the MLP:FiM series, that has a stallion ensemble, with Sunburst in the main role.
If any of those catch your interests, I recommend checking them out.
