//------------------------------// // Equestrian Bachelor // Story: Kingdom For a Horse // by Waste Bin //------------------------------// Thorax let out a royal-sized yawn. Being a king sure wasn’t kind on one’s sleep schedule. “Alright, Vector. What’s on the itinerary today?” The checklist he’d been addressing adjusted itself, allowing a face less rectangular than his to peek over. Vector, his secretary, had carapace the colour of moss and a worried frown on her muzzle. “Your Lordship?” Thorax cringed. Whenever somepony used that exact expression, it meant he’d said the wrong thing. He’d been hearing those two words quite often as of late. “We just finished going over the itinerary,” she said. “Is everything alright? Do you need a break?” “Yes, and no, thank you,” Thorax replied, “not that we’d have the time for one anyway.” He pointed at the checklist in her hooves. Well, at the part she was holding, at least. The fully unfurled scroll circled around the hotel room one and a half times before rolling out the door. “Let’s just go over it one more time.” Vector nodded and buried herself nose deep in parchment again. “At seven—that’s in half an hour, your highness—you’re to hold a speech to the new nymphs[1]. Your eight o’clock we have your correspondence, with the Crystaller in particular wanting to arrange a meeting of ‘mutual benefit’ in the near future[2]. Your brother has scheduled a meeting to go over the renewed defense plan for the Badlands at nine[3], and finally, at ten, you have a meeting with Count Sphincter of the Whitetail.” --- [1] Thorax stiffened. He hated public speaking. [2] In plain Equestrian: Sunburst had caught Thorax nibbling on the Crystal Heart and was now blackmailing him into babysitting Flurry Heart. Lovely. [3] Again?! --- “Sphincter?!” Thorax moaned. “But he’s a plothole!” Vector tittered. “Your highness, behave.” “Doesn’t make it any less true.” Vector shook her head yet failed to shake off the blush on her cheeks. “Furthermore, I’d scheduled a lunch with the Princess of Friendship at eleven, but she had to cancel due to a ‘Friendship problem.’” Vector glanced at the Great Wall of Parchment. “I say we go over the rest then.”  Thorax let out an annoyed chitter[4]. --- [4] Owing to the isolated location of the Badlands, the changelings have evolved to have an intricate larynx. Their language followed suit. According to our in-house translator, this particular expression roughly translates to: ‘I would rather get run over by a herd of incontinent buffalo.’ --- “I thought throwing Chrysalis out would make us all free of reign. Why do I have to be the King?!” Thorax massaged his temples and almost speared his forehooves in his antlers in the process. “I wish I could get away from it all, even for just a little while.” The sound of his secretary clearing her throat made him jump. “Well, your Lordship...” Had they had any fur, Thorax knew the hairs on his would have stood on end. “There is that one other issue. No-ling will hold it against you if—” Thorax was almost out the door, however. “So about them new nymphs, huh?” He chuckled nervously. “You know what they say: ‘they grow up so fast’? Best not be late.” Vector let go of her list and was out of the room before it even hit the ground. The Ponyville Hotel may not have been much, but at least it was worthy of its name. The tapestries were of the cheapest cellulose, and their colour only made you question your sanity if you looked at them for too long. Obviously, the proprietor must’ve thought the building would soon get destroyed anyway—this being Ponyville and all—since they had elected to skimp out on any form of carpet, among other things. Thorax heard his secretary’s hoofteps too late and failed to pick up his pace sufficiently. When his eyes, roaming around the all-too distraction-free corridor, accidentally landed on Vector’s, the mare didn’t look none too pleased. “Your Lordship, you can’t keep putting this issue off forever.” Thorax faux-chuckled again. “What issue? There’s no issue here.” Vector stepped in front of him and poked him. She poked him until she had backed him against the wall. “You know all too well the hive needs a Queen.” “That’s sexist!” Thorax sputtered. “Chrysalis didn’t have a King!” “No, she had several!” Thorax’s eyes bulged. His jaw nearly unlatched itself. “S-several?!” “Yes.” Vector huffed. “She was actually very lenient and open about it. She made it abundantly clear that anyling could become ‘her better half’ if they so chose.” Thorax made a face—the kind you instinctively make when your head gets dunked into a dumpster. “And how many was that?” Vector froze with her forehoof in the air, and her mouth working like a broken record: without a sound. “You know what?” The hoof came down. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that she had at least a king, and the hive was better off, even if she had to make the choice for them,” she finished too quietly for Thorax to hear. “Really? How come?” “Because even if some Changelings got the short end of the stick, most got something out of it.” “Love?” “No, discount coupons.” Vector rolled her eyes. “Of course, they got love!” “But we’ve changed! Can’t we just share?” “You can’t share what you don’t have, and we need L-O-V-E.” Vector nearly poked him in his bloodshot eyes. “The hive is almost out, and, as you can clearly see, you can’t run everything by yourself.” Thorax straightened himself up, standing up to his full height. “I can handle—” He let out another, royal-sized yawn. “—This kingdom myself just fine.” But Vector, although of shorter build, didn’t bow out. “Don’t you realize what you’re doing?” she whispered. “You’re putting the entire kingdom at risk for the sake of your own pride!” Thorax froze. On the inside, it felt like a train had hit his organs and was presently whisking them away on a magical journey. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” “Finally.” Vector sighed in relief. She fished out a second checklist from behind a boring-looking pillar. “Now, what I have here is a list of potential candidates—” “What?!” And just like that, Thorax was again present and desperately trying to backpedal into the wall. “Vector, don’t you think that’s a little fast?” Vector gave him a look. Fact number one about changelings is that they are masters of manipulation; their grade of puppy-dog- and doe-eyes are all banned in one convention or another. “Oh, please?” Vector pleaded, voice tiny. “Won’t you at least give them a chance?” Thorax himself didn’t stand one at all. “I guess I should, wouldn’t be all that fair to outright ignore them.” The mare perked up like a dog after it gets called a good girl. “What’s the first one’s name?” “Labia.” Thorax looked at her. Vector grinned back. In a single motion, in the most majestic a fashion, King Thorax brought a hoof up to his face and groaned. “It is.” “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” Thorax removed said forehoof, though it seemed to take great effort. “This is absurd, Vector. I’m not going to lower myself to the likes of Chrysalis.” “Aw, but they’d love you to,” Vector cooed. “Sure, there are still some that see you as that whiny little drone, the wimp that was scared of the dark and was weak as a butterfly…” “They what now?” “...but to many, you’re the most eligible ling available.” She gave him a wink that left him with very little to interpret. “You wouldn’t believe the fan mail you’ve been getting. It wouldn’t matter to them.” “Well, it matters to me.” Thorax stomped his hoof. “Make time for it tomorrow, or the day after, or whenever, but for now the hive can survive another day without a queen, and that’s final!” He stared her down again, and this time Vector fought back only a moment before relenting and beginning to reel the checklist back in. “As you wish, your Lordship.” What composure Thorax still had left was promptly pulverized the instant he noticed the second list was actually longer than the first. Thorax sighed. If he learned to hold his ground at this rate, then he’d be ready to assume a position of leadership in approximately one and a half millennia. Those lessons Ember gave him sure ran out their usefulness quick. He wished he was stronger. Stronger like Pharynx, like Spike, or like Discord or like any of his friends, really. Wait a minute. That was it! He could ask all his friends for help. One of them was sure to know how to help him, both in becoming a good leader, and easing his burden. He could ask Spike or Twilight, Discord, or Ember if she was around, or Starlight the next time he had— No. Not Starlight. How could she possibly help him? She tried to help his brother once and look at what had almost happened! As if that wasn’t bad enough, the way she’d giggled when Pharynx had told her all those stories about his nymphood was downright cruel! The memory of it alone made his heart race. You weren’t supposed to ask those kinds of things about a colt and laugh. And honestly, what right did she have, asking for more?! No, that was too harsh. Starlight was his friend, and out of all his friends, she was the one he’d seen the most lately. She was there to help out with Pharynx, near catastrophe or no, and when Spike had accidentally invited him and Ember to town at the same time, she’d been there to keep him company. And how could he ever forget that it was only thanks to her that they managed to overthrow Chrysalis? In fact, all changelings owed her. And well, she was intelligent, strong, authoritative—if it wasn’t for her, he’d never have even heard of the word authoritative. She’d been a mayor of a village once, for Celestia’s sake, so if there was anypony who might know how to lead a kingdom, it was her. But that would all have to wait. He had a full list of things to do. Wait, what was that noise? Thorax stirred. He had been rather abruptly brought back from his daydreaming by a content sort of humming, coming roughly four inches from his face. Thorax’s eyes blew wide open, and the very first thing he saw was the very wobbly, Vector within sniffing distance. “Uh, Vector?” His voice shook. “Are you okay?” Vector didn’t seem to hear him, however. “Mmm, Thorax. That was delicious.” She smacked her lips. “So, who is it?” Thorax put as much distance between them as the walls allowed, which was still unacceptably close. He started shuffling his way around her like a wounded prey would around their hunter. “Uhh, who is what?” “Your Queen.” Vector’s eyes began to flutter open. “The name of that ‘ling, please?” She took a step toward him. He took a step back. She took a step forward, and, fortunately for him, he had just backstepped to the exit. “Thorax,” Vector tried to coax him, but all it did was make the bottom of his stomach hit terminal velocity. “What aren’t you telling me?” “Nothing!” Thorax squeaked. He was desperately fighting to gain purchase on the doorknob. “I mean, everything! I mean, I’m not in love with anypony!” The knob clicked and clacked, but only when the green glow of Vector’s aura faded from around it did he remember that most changelings could cast magic. “Then who—? Oh, your majesty.” Thorax flipped around just in time to see Vector’s already flowerlike cheeks blossom with red. “I never realized...” Once the terrifying realization had hit home for him as well, Thorax opted to just blast a hole in the door. “My King, stop!” Vector yelled, but the King was already galloping for his deer[5] life. --- [5] Pun entirely intended. ---