The Erotic Life of the Smallest Changeling

Contains: micro, lore

It had been a week since the invasion and things in the Hive had changed drastically. For one, the residential chasm that made up most of the Hive was now a massive hospital bed. Thousands of mats, not all of them clean, lined the walls and all but a few changelings were now either doctors or patients. Almost all other activities except tending to the wounded were postponed. Making things worse, there were virtually no soldiers left to maintain order. So when fights broke out no one did anything to stop them. As to why there would be fighting during such a crisis, the answer was the same as before the war: starvation.

The older changelings were being sent out to gather as much love as they could, but now the demand was higher than ever and things were getting ugly. Disease was spreading, the scrubs were constantly crying for sustenance, and there were constant scuffles. Someone was always awake trying to help those that were hurt... or steal what love they had left.

Alex hadn't seen Oleander since it all went wrong. An aged soldier, he was asked to return to duty and make the moody bugs think twice about attacking each other over petty issues. Apple, on the other hoof, never came back from the invasion. Alex was ashamed of himself for it, but he really couldn't care less.

Then there was Chrysalis. Alex had only gotten a brief glimpse, but it looked bad. She must have been riddled with broken bones and covered head to hoof in burns. Whatever had happened she was lucky to be alive. Chrysalis was said to be healing in a secret chamber, but Alex was not allowed to know where that was nor was he allowed to see her.

Bell sat on a stool while carefully grinding a ruby into shape with his cutting wheel. Alex sat on the table nearby, watching with bored interest. Bell was notorious for his ability to give one word answers to questions or simply refusing to speak at all. He avoided eye contact whenever he could and he made sure Alex knew he didn't plan on explaining what he was doing. So away Bell toiled, for the past seven days, working on various precious stones. Alex wasn't sure why Bell wasn't helping all the injured changelings outside his door, but there was no way to get an explanation out of him. So many things about this changeling remained a mystery.

"If there is so little love to go around, who's going to need that amulet?" Alex tried one last time.

Bell made no indication he had even heard the question, which was possible with all the noise that grinding wheel was making.

Alex sighed. There was nothing to do but watch him work. From his vantage point, Alex could determine that the process for making high quality amulets involved a bit of trial and error. Apparently, Bell couldn't tell what stones would store energy the best until he had already started grinding away at them. At some point in the process, he'd stop and take out a magnifying glass to study the gem more closely. Then he would either go back to grinding or toss the rock in a rubbish pile. It seemed kind of random.

A knock at the door pulled Bell's goggle covered eyes away from the ruby with a massive ugly bump that he was trying to smooth. Alex flew along behind him to see who the visitor was. Bell was not impressed. A young female changeling he didn't recognize was standing in the doorway after having let herself in. Bell growled at the intrusion, but greeted her anyway.

"What can I do for you?"

"I-I'm just delivering the mail. The Behemoths are here," she said while shrinking back.

Although she had spoken shyly, and basically ran from Bell as soon as she had dropped the message, the skinny changeling was stunned. "Behemoths? Here?" he asked himself.

Alex was equally confused when Bell galloped to the walkway outside. In both directions other doors were open and numerous changelings that had been exempted from helping the wounded were gawking at the sight bellow. Alex landed on the narrow railing that separated the path from a 20 foot fall to the ground below. He too stared in amazement.

If normal changelings were like mountains, behemoths were like moving planetoids to him.

Four times as tall as the changelings around them, bulking muscular bodies, horns like lightning rods, legs as wide as ancient oak trees, and beach ball sized blue eyes. What really grabbed Alex's attention though, was the lack of wings. Instead, the two behemoths he could see sported three bony disks that jutted from their backs by a few inches. Evenly spaced, they resembled ribs that had grown up out of the skin and turned as blue as the sky. On their massive bodies the feature did not appear gross or awkward, just different. In a strange way, the rings even made them look tough... well, tougher.

Bell stared at the pair of dominating figures standing among the soup of injured. Their horns were glowing and they each let a rain of gentle sparkles fall upon those around them as they marched down the isle of occupied mats. As the wounded changelings absorbed the falling energy, they would relax and lie down, as though hypnotized.

"What are they doing?" Alex asked.

"Giving away love," Bell whispered back.

"But what are they doing here? I thought hives hated each other?" Looking further down the road, Alex spotted another two behemoths doing the same thing.

"It's because King Milkweed is here!" called a familiar old voice.

"Oleander!" Alex cheered as he turned to see his friend. Oleander didn't look happy though.

"Where have you been?" Bell asked quickly.

"Taking care of things. I can see the hunger issue is being dealt with," Oleander said before taking a seat next to Bell and Alex.

"I don't understand, I thought the behemoths didn't have any love to spare," Bell commented.

"They didn't," Oleander stated with a frown.

"King Milkweed?" Alex cut in, inquiring about the name Oleander had spoken while he was approaching.

"He's king of the Behemoths," Oleander explained rapidly before turning back to Bell. "And it's not his supply of love that's going around. It's Lord Nightshade's."

Alex could even see Bell's blood run cold. "Lord Nightshade?" he quivered. "B-but why--?"

"General Firethorn is also here," Oleander cut him off.

Like flipping a switch, Bell was suddenly enraged. "Firethorn," he snarled. "What is he doing in our hive?!"

"Chrysalis is too injured to leave, so Nightshade brought The Council to her," Oleander answered with a neutral expression.

"Hold on, I'm lost here," Alex said with a raised a hoof. "What's going on?"

Bell snorted and looked away. Oleander took a deep breath to maintain control of his emotions. "God-King Nightshade called a council meeting between the hives of Equestria. Those include Queen Chrysalis, King Milkweed, and General Firethorn. Because our queen cannot be moved at the moment however, Nightshade brought the others here instead. He also brought a very large delivery of love energy which he has tasked the Behemoths with distributing to the hive. There are another two making their way through the tunnels to the other chambers."

"But why is Bell mad about Firethorn and not Milkweed?"

"That... is harder to explain," Oleander relented. "You see Alex, no two hives are what you call 'allies', but that doesn't mean they automatically hate each other. Chrysalis and Milkweed are not friends, but they are more than willing to sit down at the same table and talk. I guess you could say we can tolerate each other. Firethorn is a different story."

"He's a backstabbing bastard," Bell huffed.

Ignoring Bell, Oleander continued. "Firethorn, and his children, are a hive that thrives on combat. It can't be denied, his changelings are naturally better fighters than others. They are sometimes called the Hive of Warriors."

"And we don't get along with them?" Alex tried.

Oleander nodded slowly. "Thorn Changelings are well known for being violent and attacking other changelings while in the field. They, above all other hives, push the limits of Lord Nightshade's no war policy."

"No war policy?" Alex echoed in sudden realization. "Wait, I thought you said it was just forbidden for hives to attack each other."

"It is," Oleander replied. "Officially, that's the extent of the law, but you could say Nightshade has grown fond of the way changelings operate these days. He doesn't like the idea that the world will learn we still exist."

"The council meeting is just a cover," Bell spoke up suddenly. "He doesn't care what the other royals have to say, he's going to have this hive destroyed."

Oleander said nothing to discredit the theory, much to Alex's horror.

"He wouldn't do that! Would he? Look at all those hurt changelings, isn't that punishment enough? And why would he bring them food if he was just going to have the hive burned?"

Bell and Oleander looked at each other for a moment, having a silent argument over the points Alex had just brought up. A few moments later their eyes separated, but their expressions remained dark.

"By the way Alex," Oleander began unexpectedly, "after the meeting, Lord Nightshade wants to speak with you."

Alex felt like the entire world had just collapsed from under his hooves. The oldest and most powerful changeling in the world, a self-proclaimed god and the one who held the fate of every life in this hive in his hooves, wanted to talk to him!?

"Is that optional?" he whispered.

"No," Oleander replied dryly. "A Shadow Changeling will be here to collect you when the time comes."

For almost three hours the trio stood by the railing (on it in Alex's case) and watched the Behemoths do their best to distribute the love evenly. The pair had run out several minutes ago and were now on their way out, but the trio still felt content to stare at all the changelings who were now, more or less, full. For the first time in years. Many who had been treated were now sleeping or were excitedly talking with their neighbors. That wasn't to say they were happy, but rather spreading rumors.

Alex's ears perked when a strange sound, not unlike glass crackling, came from behind him. But when he turned to look he nearly melted out of his skin. The wall... it was a black hole. There was just no other way to describe it. It was as though the space had just fallen out of existence and left behind a void into nothingness. He could feel his fur rising when a leg materialized from the cavity. A moment later and he was gazing upon something that could only be a Shadow Changeling.

Bright violet glyphs carved in neat columns ran up pure black legs to a form that seemed to ripple with darkness. It was like he lacked a solid body, instead crafted from gently fluctuating shadows. His wings were silver plates, partly transparent and spread as though he were purposefully showing them off. His horn was long and thin and rings of glowing violet ran along it at regular horizontal intervals. His eyes shown with an otherworldly purple glow and there was no sign of a mane or tail.

Alex recalled what Oleander had said about them, that they were infused with black magic at birth. It was only now that he fully understood what Oleander meant.

And his voice--oh his voice--it was like a snake's echoing off the walls of a massive cavern.

"Lord Nightshade will see you now, Alex."