//------------------------------// // The Beginning // Story: This Is Why, Shining Armor! // by contodaslasganas //------------------------------// Starting from the scene in “A Canterlot Wedding” where Queen Chrysalis, disguised as Princess Cadence, is singing. “No I do not love the groom. In my heart there is no room, but I still want him to be all mine!” Queen Chrysalis looked at herself in the mirror, thinking and grinning devilishly. “Shining Armor will be mine, all mine! He will rue the day he toyed with my emotions; he will pay, and so will all of Equestria!” //// Many Years Before In a hospital in Canterlot “Congratulations, it’s a new baby colt!” The bustle of nurses and doctors had already died down for the most part. The birth had resulted in no complications, and now the new parents were enjoying their first moments with their new foal. His white coat was barely visible under all the blankets he was wrapped in, his eyes squinting to see in the haze of the powerful, bright lights. “What will we name him?” asked the mother, holding her foal in her hooves as he watched his new surroundings inquisitively. “How about White Horn,” her husband replied; he was always deeply lacking on the creative side of things. Not only did his wife wince as he said that name, but the young colt had started to cry upon hearing it. It took a few seconds for him to settle down, rocking back and forth as his mother replied. “I’m not sure he likes that name, dear. I know, how about we name him after your grandfather?” “I think that’s a great idea,” the colt’s father replied, softly picking up his new bundle of joy before talking to him. “Don’t you think so, Shining Armor?” The colt laughed gleefully, the sound dispersing and filling the nearly silent room with joy. The nurses still in the room could not find words to describe such a moment, as if at this moment, not a thing was wrong with the world. //// Meanwhile, in a quiet house in Canterlot, somewhat secluded from the others on the same street Wood Trim was sitting in a rocking chair, pondering what her next project would be. She enjoyed making sculptures, though no longer did ponies line up at her front door to ask for her works of art, at least, not since the new sculptor arrived to Canterlot. Sure, he could make those sculptures in a third of the time as Trim could, but she had inspected his work and had spotted many flaws that passed by unseen by the untrained eyes of the populace. Wood Trim always took the utmost care in making her sculptures: such mistakes would never be present in one of her works. Perhaps if she spent less time in checking for errors, she would – KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK The sharp rapping on her front door broke her concentration and almost knocked her off her chair. “Now, who could that be at this Celestia-forsaken hour?” Though it was only one or two hours into Luna’s night, Trim was aggravated that somebody had interrupted her train of thought. Of course, the fact that she was already past the prime of her life had nothing to do with it. As she opened the door, she saw a figure in black scamper away into the night. “Hey, wait, come back!” Trim was about to follow when she noticed the strange object that was sitting right in front of her. The tightly-woven basket was nothing out of the ordinary: no, what was in the basket was much more interesting. A small something – a creature of some sort, it seemed – slowly squirming around was all Trim could see under Luna’s moon, so she used her magic to carefully place the basket on her dining table, the only place untouched by the numerous drawings and tools strewn throughout the house (Trim claimed it brought her “inspiration”). Upon reaching the table Trim slowly pulled down the blanket that was covering the small object in the basket, but what appeared in front of her eyes was so unexpected, so disturbing that were she faint of heart (or perhaps a couple years older), she would have suffered a heart attack. In front of her was one of the most malevolent of beasts, with a chitinous, black shell and perforations throughout its body. It was a changeling. No, it was a baby changeling. It was a changeling, that was true, but it was most unlike a beast. The baby was sleeping, scrunched up into a little ball, and if one looked past the fact that it was a changeling, it looked … well, it looked cute. “What am I thinking? I should put it back where I found it,” thought Trim, but soon after she noticed that the baby changeling was shivering. How could she leave such a poor thing outside, exposed to the elements? Without noticing, Trim had been warming up to the changeling. It could have been due to the fact that the baby looked so cute, or maybe because Trim had always wanted a foal of her own but could not because of her medical condition. Whatever the reason, she slowly placed the blanket back on top of the changeling, carrying the swaddling bundle of sheets and baby onto her bed, hoping that her body heat would stop the shivering and let the filly sleep well. Before she turned off the lights, though, she noticed a small note at the bottom of the basket: “To whosoever receives this letter, I hope that you will find it in your heart to take care of this baby. I no longer have the money nor the health to provide her shelter and warmth. I am forever in your debt, and I thank you for giving my daughter a chance at life.” After reading through the note for the third time, with tears forming in her eyes, Trim decided without a doubt what she would do. She shut off the light and got into bed next to the changeling, hugging the baby close to her. As she trailed off to sleep, Trim softly promised to the changeling, not caring that she was not listening nor able to understand Equish: “From now on, I will be your protector, your guardian, your mother. I will provide you with food and shelter, and I will make sure you grow up to be the best mare you can be. This I promise you, and as such I will call you … Chrysanthemum, my filly.”