Queen Chrysalis lounged on her throne, her insectoid body twisted in ways that would torture a pony, but which proved oddly comfortable to her in her current state. Jutting from her body in every direction was her massive womb, larger than the rest of her, with dozens of new changelings pressed against the membrane in every possible way. Were she to look at it, she’d see her newest children staring back at her, mooning her, and many seemingly pleading for relief from the pressure that prevented most any movement. She occasionally stared at herself and marvelled at the efficiency of her body in making new hive members; ponies simply couldn’t compete, spending eleven months to make a measly foal or two, with inefficient umbilical cords and everything else. Her superiority in every respect was firmly planted in her mind in all she did. Regardless, her attention presently lay elsewhere, with a stalactite or other cave feature while she waited to squeeze out the newest batch.
Her guard stood by her side, as a matter of policy, for nopony could invade the hive so deeply to their current position. Her hive wore the tattered uniforms of many fallen soldiers from across Equestria, and this guard in particular wore the uniform of Luna’s Night Guard, with the holes caused by relieving the previous owner of it still present. The superiority of his queen was also firmly planted in his mind in all he did, and he was thankful to have such a wondrous mother. He delighted in protecting her and the newest hive members just as those before him had done when he was but a foal in her womb. Try as he might, he had no memories of his existence before his birth, although others claimed to remember a view of the world that was upside-down with a blue hue, surrounded by an omnipresent warmth. It made sense that many of his fellow changelings would have no such memories, even if the others weren’t lying, given that the overwhelming majority of foals within the queen had no view outside of her, either looking inward or swarmed in every respect by the others.
In admiring her body, he locked eyes with one of the little foals within. The foal continued to stare at him, they never did blink unless by choice it seemed, but he certainly needed to blink occasionally, and unwittingly made a strained face as he continued his staring. He only realized this when the foal imitated him, squinting with one eye. The guard blinked and rubbed his eyes after this although, when he opened them again, the foal within was also trying to rub his own eyes. The clumsy movement mostly struck the other nearby foals, and then the guard noticed yet other foals either imitating him or striking back against the others. The many foals struck outwards with their forehooves, and others bucked in ways that looked painfully taut. It felt like moments, but was perhaps closer to a minute, that the queen’s entire belly was shaking back-and-forth violently. He wasn’t looking at her, but the queen blushed as she again showed her progeny some attention.
The membrane was of course without muscle, and only the thin bands dividing it into segments could retract to squeeze them into submission and calm her belly once again. The guard glanced at his queen’s face, and she was shooting an unpleasant look back, as if inviting him inside of her for a second time, as food. He shrank away with a sheepish look on his face.
Fortunately for the guard, he remained outside of his queen as she left the throne room for some other part of the hive. Despite the title of guard, his main purpose was to help her move her swollen form at her leisure, and he was thankful she wasn’t yet so big that she would need two guards to help her shift her weight. Wordlessly, she began to rock herself back and forth until her giant rear left the throne, and he wordlessly sandwiched his back underneath it to act as a lift; his four shaking legs moved the queen upwards ever so slowly, and he knew if his legs failed him he would be smashed under her like a common bug, although there were worse ways to die. Thankfully, her thick hindlegs soon helped him, but not to get her standing, for she was easily far too large for standing to be possible. The work of his entire body and her legs amounted to nothing more than rotating her so that she lay on her belly like a knot on a balloon. Thereafter, her wings somehow lifted her into the air, giving her more of a teardrop shape as he lay on the ground watching her, struggling to catch his breath before he followed.