Stolen Love, Borrowed Hate
A unicorn, tall and lanky stumbled out of the bathroom stall and slammed into the row of sinks with enough force to shake the mirrors. No one batted an eye at the clatter, as the only other individual present had their nose pressed against the counter. The unicorn didn't even glance in the stranger’s direction, his gaze falling instead on his own reflection.
His long pointed ragged yellow mane hung down his face in matted sheets, making it difficult to see. Bags hung under his bright blue eyes, while a welt was slowly forming on his chiseled jawline, marking the spot where he had been punched not long ago. His white fur may have been thoroughly combed earlier today but by this point in the evening it was a mess stained with the occasional spot of beer or some other alcoholic beverage.
“Oh shit,” muttered the other pony, hastily wiping something white from the edge of his nose. “It's fucking Prince Blueblood.”
“You need not- urp, concern yourself, citizen,” Prince Blueblood replied, swaying back and forth. “For tonight I am just a pony lik-hick- you.”
“What like, really? Huh,” the stranger blinked. “You uh, want a line?”
“Perhaps later,” the prince dismissed.
Blueblood then splashed a bit of water on his face, and trotted awkwardly out of the bathroom, shoulder checking the door open. Entering the club proper, he was blasted with a wave of sound. The loud upbeat music was unpleasant, to say the least, but the prince ignored it and strode across the room, his head held high.
The club itself resembled Canterlot Castle, complete with large marble columns, and waitresses dressed up like rather lewd versions of the royal guard. Blueblood found it all rather hilarious, as the thought of his aunt stepping foot into such a gaudy place was as funny as it was improbable. The strobing white and pink lights illuminated his passage only in flashes, the play of dark and light making it difficult for his addled senses to parse.
Despite the sensory nightmare assaulting him from all angles, he managed to stumble past the various denizens of the establishment and land himself back at the bar. The long, white, and black marble counter stretched from one side of the place to the other and was lit up by a series of floating candles that shed a magical white light. Behind it all stood a smiling young mare wearing gold makeup that made her resemble a royal guard at least from a distance.
“Another glass of champagne, your majesty?” She offered her voice magically cutting through the blast of sound that buffeted the prince.
Before the drunken unicorn could answer, a stool was dragged over to his immediate right, a grinning pony seating himself upon it.
“Make that two glasses,” he offered with a grin.
“I should w-warn you I have expensive taste,” the prince remarked, pausing briefly to stifle a belch.
“I can handle it,” the stranger dismissed.
“Two glasses of Chateau Montelena, coming right up,” declared the server.
The prince pulled up a chair and plunged his unsteady backside into it. Once he no longer felt as though he was going to fall from his perch, Blueblood turned and got a good look at the stranger for the first time. He half expected to see the young pegasus from the bathroom, but was surprised that it was an earth pony sitting next to him.
He had bright pink fur, a long slightly curly green mane, and eyes that were such a deep emerald that they bordered on black. Blueblood could just barely make out that his drinking partner had three green cupcakes for a cutie mark. His physique was also sleek, effeminate, waifish, with a waist so thin that it bordered on skeletal.
“Everything I wrote in that silly article asking about my dream partner,” Prince Blueblood muttered to himself.
“Did you say something, handsome?” Asked the other stallion.
“Nothing,” the prince dismissed, waving a hoof. “Just, admiring the view is all.”
“Admire is free, touching ain't,” replied the stranger, wiggling his backside slightly.
“Here you are,” declared the server.
“The name’s Red Gala by the way,” the stranger offered, taking one of the glasses and pulling it close. “I’m assuming you are Prince Blueblood?”
“I am indeed,” answered the prince, taking the other glass.
“Then now that we know each other. How about a toast?” Red Gala asked, raising his glass. “To new friends.”
“To new friends,” exclaimed Blueblood heartily.
Together the pair downed their cups, swallowing their contents in one go.
“Ha, it almost feels a waste to drink such a fine beverage in such a brutish manner,” Red Gala offered.
“Oh indeed but there is a sort of perverse joy in it,” Prince Blueblood retorted. “Like ruining something beautiful for no other reason than because you can.”
“Do you ruin beautiful things often?” Pressed Red Gala, touching Blueblood’s shoulder.
“Only when the mood strikes me, but I should warn you when the mood takes me, it is immediate,” Blueblood continued, flashing the other stallion a wry smile. “And it is intense.”
“I may not look it but I can handle anything you can dish out,” Red Gala retorted, leaning towards the prince and donning a matching grin.
“The alley behind the club, now,” Prince Blueblood declared.
“Lead the way, my prince,” Red Gala replied.
Prince Blueblood stood from his seat, and turned suddenly, striding towards the back of the club. He didn't even look back, the stallion all but sprinting through the crowded space, shoving aside any who got in his way. He didn't slow as he pushed through the door marked employee only, blowing past the dressing area and out the back entrance.
He only stopped after he had reached a small out-of-the-way spot away from the view of strangers. Here in a small alcove hidden from sight by a large dumpster was the perfect spot, he thought to himself. He turned around just in time to spot Red Gala trotting around the waste receptacle and entering the closed-off area.
“I must say your choice of location leaves much to be desired,” Red Gala remarked, chuckling calmly.
“What can I say? When I see something I want, I take it,” Prince Blueblood exclaimed, leaning forward. “And damn the consequences.”
The two embraced, locking lips while they eagerly explored one another. It was awkward, and messy, with both parties fumbling in the dull lit corner behind a dumpster. Hooves caressed bodies, and tongues twisted in and out of one another’s mouths.
After nearly a minute, Red Gala’s eyes began to glow a faint emerald-green color before starting to swirl. Sickly energy spilled from his eyes and dug their long fingers into Prince Blueblood’s mind. All at once the prince went limp, falling slack into his lover’s forelegs and being forced to stare up at the changeling as it drew out his love.
Red Gala grinned, and opened his mouth, readying himself for the look of terror to flash on the prince’s face. That last moment right before they realized what was about to happen served as the perfect appetizer for the infiltrator and he always looked forward to it. Yet even as realization dawned, the prince felt no fear, no shock or surprise, just… joy?
“Why… why are you enjoying this?” Muttered the changeling.
“Shut up and drain me already, you filthy parasite,” the prince growled, glaring bitterly at the other male.
“I will do no such thing,” the changeling declared.
Red Gala tossed the prince onto the ground and stopped his magic, willing his eyes to return to normal.
“W-what? Why aren't you taking my emotions?” The prince sputtered, limbs still heavy and unresponsive.
“Because you’re a freak and I want to know why you want this,” the changeling retorted.
“I am no freak, I am a prince of Equestria and I demand that you-”
“I don't recognize any royalty save that of my queen. So save your demands for someone who cares,” the changeling retorted, kneeling down and prodding the pony in the face. “Now answer my question before I stuff you in that dumpster.”
For a moment the prince struggled valiantly against the paralysis that gripped him. His muscles spasmed and his muscles twitched, making it appear as though he was having a seizure. Either that or he was wrestling with some matter of unseen entity and was currently losing.
“Are you done?” Prompted the changeling.
“I’ll answer your question. Just don't touch me,” the prince muttered, taking a deep, steadying breath. “I am not surprised because I was the one that lured you here, not the other way around.”
“Ridiculous,” retorted the changeling.
“You followed the exact list of characteristics that I gave that so-called journalist nearly six months ago,” the prince shot back. “You also came here alone, have never been to the club before, and you didn't actually swallow your drink.”
“How do you know all that? Talk, pony,” spat the shapeshifter angrily.
“I own this club, and you spat the drink out the moment we stepped outside. I could tell because I hadn't had a drop of alcohol all night,” the prince answered.
“Why do all this? Why go through all the effort?” The changeling pressed, grabbing the pony in his magic and lifting him off the ground. “Are you hunting us, is that it?”
“Ha! Nothing quite so barbaric,” the prince dismissed with a snort. “I simply want you to do what you came here to do.”
“To feed off you,” the changeling muttered, tossing the pony back to the ground.
“Yes, to feed off me, now are you going to take the free meal, or am I going to have to lure another of your kind in before I get what I want?” The prince pressed.
“I’ll consider it, but first I want to know why a prince of Equestria is lying in an alley, begging to have his love drained,” the changeling demanded.
“I do not beg,” the prince snarled. “I give orders, I make deals and that is what this is, a deal.”
“Stop avoiding the question and tell me why already,” the changeling retorted, angrily hissing in the pony’s face.
“It's not a sex thing if that's what you're thinking,” retorted the prince with a sigh. “It simply makes me better at my job.”
“How?”
“Without such base feelings like fear, pity, guilt, or shame, I can crush my competition without remorse,” Blueblood continued. “Without the limitation of my emotions, I have been able to take over nearly half the Canterlot nightclub scene and expand my holdings considerably in only a few short months.”
“But you don't feel love, or joy or anything during that time.”
“It doesn't matter, nothing is better than the knowledge that I have bested those that stood in my way,” the prince replied. “Now are you going to do what you came here to do or not?”
“You’re sick,” the changeling muttered.
“The only thing I am sick of is fools. Now give me what I want or I will summon the guard!” The prince shouted, veins bulging in his neck.
“I may be reprimanded for it, but I won't be touching you or your wretched emotions,” the changeling retorted, shifting disguises to a pegasus mare. “I hope your conscience kills you.”
“Stop! Get back here!” The prince exclaimed, his voice rising as the changeling began to fly away. “I can pay you! I can provide you ponies to-”
The changeling ascended beyond the top of the building and vanished from sight.
“Damm you!” The prince shouted. “This isn't over! I’ll find another and when I do I’m coming for you! Do you hear me? I’ll have my revenge!”
Author's Note
This is part of the countdown to christmas, head over here to keep track of all the cool stuff coming down the pipes. If you want to ensure I can afford to keep doing stuff like this, consider backing me over on Subscribestar or Patreon.
