//------------------------------// // Announcement // Story: Winter Storm // by Snake Staff //------------------------------// Shining Armor “So, what do you think?” asks my dear, beloved, traitorous weasel of a wife. She gestures to the outfit hastily arranged on a somewhat undersized alicorn mannequin that I’m reasonably certain is supposed to be the tailors’ model of Cadence. “It’s… better,” I grudgingly admit, before shaking my head. “You helped them, didn’t you?” She smirks. “I may or may not have slipped them a few suggestions on what might look best on you, yes.” “Traitor,” I accuse her irritably, to which her smirk simply widens. “You know I was never one for dressing up like a peacock. Couldn’t I just wear a uniform jacket? I think I look pretty good in those.” “You look good, but not royal,” she corrects me. “I’ve worn jackets like that since our wedding day,” I point out. “And you never had a problem with it before.” “And you’ve never announced your ascension to alicornhood before,” she counters. “As a unicorn you could get away with your limited wardrobe, but alicorns are expected to have a greater degree of sophistication to their wear. Especially when attending such important public events. Or did you think Twilight and I wore those dresses for fun?” “I know. It’s not fair,” I groan, putting a hoof over my face. Cadence snorts. “Not fair? You can complain about not fair when you have to spend three hours getting your mane done into this ridiculous thing.” She points a hoof at her head, and the ceremonial headdress atop it. I recognize it for the very same one that she first wore on the day of our competing for the Equestria Games for the first time. I would love to ask how many cans of hairspray valiantly laid down their lives to make my wife’s mane sit still, but frankly I don’t want to know. "I had to spend the time catching up on paperwork,” I defend myself. Seriously, do you know how much work piles up in my office over a measly two days of time away from ordinary business? Why anypony would want the job of ruling a nation, much less try and take one over by force, eludes me to this day. “Tell you what: I’ll trade you next time. I’ll fill out forms, and you get your mane put into this setup.” Me? In that? I stifle a chuckle at my own expense and shake my head. “Sorry honey, but no deal. You’re stuck with it,” I flash her a roguish grin. Cadence smiles triumphantly. “Then you’re stuck with this little number.” She puts a hoof over the clothing, and my grin vanishes. My wife rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, Shiny, it’s not that bad.” I like to think of myself as a reasonably objective stallion, so I have to admit that’s she’s right – if we’re comparing it to the initial idea for actual golden armor. This new creation is a full suite of genuine steel battle armor, minus helmet, polished to a solid silver sheen and engraved with elegant swirls of gold in numerous places along the sides, chest, and legs. Matching steel hoof coverings included, naturally. That’s a bit showy, but not such a bad design in and of itself. If only they had stopped there. Underneath the armor plating are a matching velvet set of deep purple tunic and pants, showing through wherever necessity or design left gaps in the steel plates. It’s really rather a flashy effect, but again I suppose I might learn to tolerate it. No, the really awful part, the thing that more than any other makes me hate this outfit, is that they totally ignored my wishes. They put a cape on this bloody thing. Let me explain something: I hate capes. Can’t stand them. Some ponies think that they look bold or dramatic, but really they only make the wearer look silly. Whether billowing out in the wind (and getting wrapped around your face when it switches direction) or hanging over one’s flank (and constituting a tripping hazard), capes are uniformly impractical to wear and not much to look at. So of course my wife and tailors decided to add a cape to my ensemble. Of course they did. The cape on the armor is a lengthy purple thing, attached slightly behind the shoulder and stretching down to just above my rear hooves (or so they assure me, on the actual mannequin it goes past the hooves and onto the floor). It’s made of dark violet velvet to match my other clothing, with a white faux fur trim around the edge. Seriously, guys and gals? Fur? Yes, I know it’s fake. Yes, I know it’s traditional royal garb for kings and princes of the Crystal Empire. But does it have to be on my outfit? “I disagree,” I answer Cadence after a moment of silence. “It is that bad, and I will not show up in public alive for the first time in generations wearing that costume.” “Come on, Shiny,” my wife urges me. “Do it for me? Pleeeease?” I cross my forelegs and shake my head. “No.” There is no way, no how, that I am ever going to wear that stupid outfit. I can’t believe I’m wearing that stupid outfit. Damn Cadence and those irresistible pleading eyes of hers. Speaking my treasonous wife, she and I are lined up together in an antechamber to the Imperial Palace’s main viewing balcony. There’s about half an hour left before the big public debut of brand new me, and the crowd is already pretty large. From what I hear in palace gossip, the rumor community has currently formed into a relatively even split between those who think I’ve become an alicorn, and those who think I’m being replaced by an alicorn. Then there are the fringe theories, which include that Cadence, myself, or both of us have been replaced by changelings, that I launched a coup against my wife, that we’re being annexed by Equestria, and so on. Cadence is busy practicing her hastily-written speech in front of a mirror, while I am occupied with getting my mane attacked by a pair of fussy mares with far too much time on their hooves. “It doesn’t flow,” comments one of them, running a comb through the back of my mane after an excessive does of hairspray. “But it is almost as difficult to work with as her highness’s. Do you cast a spell on your hair to keep it from staying down, my prince?” I snort at the question, but before I can do more the other speaks up. “It doesn’t flow like the rest of their highnesses’ manes. Why is that?” she asks me. I shrug. “Search me. I’m rather new to this myself, but I can tell you that there was a time when Cadence and Twilight’s manes didn’t flow.” “Told you so!” says one to the other. “You owe me five bits!” “Shut up,” grumbles the second mare. “Maybe it’s just a function of age,” I speculate out loud. “Or maybe it simply doesn’t happen to stallions.” Wishful thinking, that. I’d like to keep a longer manestyle without it perpetually flowing in the wind and making me look like some pretty-colt or mare. If this thing starts fluttering in the breeze, I’ll have to cut it real short or be the laughingstock of the Crystal Guard. I suppose I’ll need to ask Celestia or Luna when next I see them. In front of the mirror, Cadence finishes her practice session, and before she can begin again I interrupt. “You know of course that you’re going to pay for this,” I use my right hoof to indicate myself, my outfit, and the two stylists attacking my mane. She raises an eyebrow and smirks at me. “Oh?” I present a tight smile. “You may be a princess out here, but once that door closes on our bedroom tonight,” my smile blossoms into a full-on devilish grin. “You’re mine, little mare.” “Ooooh, I quiver with fear.” Cadence upturns her skirt just enough to flick her long tail teasingly at me. The tip just barely grazes the edge of my muzzle. I adopt an indignant pose and stick my tongue out at her. She responds in kind, closing her eyes and just short of giving me a raspberry. We hold our respective postures for a hooful of seconds, before cracking and breaking down into a giggling fit. Cadence walks over and rests her head against my chest. I nuzzle her affectionately. “Love you, honey,” I whisper into her ear before nibbling it just enough to be playful. Cadence runs a soft wing over my chest and down my foreleg. How I’ve missed that wonderful sensation. “Love you too,” she smiles. Cadence The clock chimes four, and I know that it’s time. I give Shining a smile and quick kiss for luck, then turn and exit our little antechamber. I’ll be going out first, both to reassure everypony that I’m alright and do the actual announcement. I’m wear a long, sapphire-colored dress threaded with gold and studded with blue diamonds, complete with a ballgown-like skirt. Add a heavy golden necklace that might be mistaken for a yolk, diamond earrings, and crystalline horseshoes so clear that a pony might not notice them on first glance, and you have my outfit. Also? My mane and tail still smell funny from the chemical bath I had to undergo to get them to stand still, in spite of all the perfume I put on afterwards. And they feel really stiff. Put all of this together, and truthfully I don’t know what Shiny’s complaining about. His getup is nothing compared to mine. I roll my eyes and smile. Stallions. They have it so easy. I know that I shouldn’t be so hard on Shiny – ah, who I am kidding? I know precisely the opposite. We used to tease each other all the time when we were young. It helped to keep us from getting all stuffy and uptight about everything, like some ponies seem to be. It’s another thing I’ve missed about our relationship these many years, but with so little left to him I didn’t dare poke his fragile pride. But now that’s behind us, and I can get back into the game! Squee! I give myself a little nibble just to be sure that I haven’t been dreaming this up… Nope! I really have finally gotten what I’ve wanted most, and I really am on my way to announce my husband’s ascension to the world! Yes! I pump my hoof triumphantly, and there’s a bounce in my step as close on the balcony doors. If it weren’t for the weight of this dress, I might be skipping like a school filly. I halt before the double doors leading to the balcony and take a moment to compose myself. Deep breaths. In and out, in and out. You’re a princess, so be sure and look the part. Remember: dignity and poise. Don’t go out squealing like a little filly. When I am reasonably certain that I’m ready for the show, I nod to the twin unicorn guards, who pull open the doors with magic. I step out into the sun. Arrayed before me is a vast crowd. I don’t know exactly how many. I’m no Twilight, with her irrepressible ability with numbers. I’m sure if she were here she could estimate the exact audience count by finding the average number of ponies in a given amount of space and then totaling the amount of space occupied. Lacking the ability to do that without paper, I’m just forced to go with my gut, which gives me a wild guess of ten thousand or more. Crystal ponies constitute a clear majority, but I also spy pegasi and unicorns among the crowd, some gryphons, a smattering of zebras, and even a small number of minotaurs in the audience. All look up when I step out, and not a few start chattering in low murmurs. Some even wave at me. My wings twitch slightly with excitement, but I suppress that urge, take a final deep breath, and cast a spell to activate the microphone about my throat. “Ladies and gentlecolts,” the sound of my voice booms out through the speakers we’ve set up, and the crowd falls silent. “Citizens of the Crystal Empire! I, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, bid you welcome. I wish, first of all, to thank each and every one of you for taking time from your busy schedules to come and attend this very special event. I know that you all have your own lives to lead, and I am deeply touched that so many of you have chosen to lend some of your time to me. Again, I thank you.” I pause, and almost immediately hundreds, then thousands of ponies start stamping their hooves. I let them for a time, then hold up a hoof for silence. That takes a minute, but eventually all is quiet once more. “I would request,” I continue. “That you please conserve your applause for the culmination of this ceremony.” I pause briefly again, just to be sure. Thankfully, the vast majority honor my wishes. Once I’m certain, I go on. “Secondly, I wish to extend my apologies to anypony who has been inconvenienced by the chaos of the previous day. There was a small issue of confusion about the whereabouts of myself and my husband, and for that I accept full responsibility. Neither the Crystal Guard nor any other pony was to blame for the incident, and I ask that you bear them no hostility nor begrudge them for any difficulties you may have endured. To all residents of the Crystal Empire, citizens and guests alike: I am sorry.” I bow my head, to more murmurs from the audience. There is a scattering of applause, but most ponies continue to hold it, as per my request. “Thirdly,” I proceed, my tone now much happier for having gotten that out of the way. “The main reason that we are here. I know that some among you,” my eyes sweep meaningfully along a row of journalists, whole are presently engaged in either photographing me or writing down everything I say. “Have heard rumors of certain extraordinary events over the past few hours. Some of you may have been involved in spreading them. I have called you all here to dispel certain suppositions, and to confirm the truth of others.” I pause again to let the chatterers chatter amongst themselves. “It is with great pride and the deepest of pleasure that I say that I am here to announce a new addition to the family of the alicorns!” That gets a reaction. Almost everypony says something to one another, or else shouts it at me. Speculation runs rampant, and not a few call out to ask who the father of the new baby is. How I would have a baby without having been visibly pregnant these last few months is a puzzle to me, but I guess all sorts of miraculous things are attributed to my kind. I raise another hoof for silence, but that doesn’t work this time. “Ladies and gentlecolts, please!” I implore them. “Please, cease talking, and I promise I will tell you all!” That, on the other hoof, does it. Silence once again descends. “Ahem,” I clear my throat before continuing. “Now then, first of all let me lay to rest any speculation about a baby. I have had no children for many years, and I did not give birth yesterday. Furthermore-” I’m interrupted by the various reactions of the audience, ranging from cheers to disappointed sighs. “Furthermore,” I emphasize the word a bit more. “While new to the family of alicorns, the stallion of whom I speak has been with us for a very long time. With his impeccable record of loyal service to crown and country alike, his unending devotion to the Crystal Empire, and his oft-demonstrated bravery and commitment, it gives me great pleasure to announce to you all that the latest to ascend into the alicorn race is my husband, your captain of the guard: Prince Shining Armor!” I whirl around to face the double doors. Right on cue, Shining Armor steps out onto the balcony in his suit of… well, shining armor. The polished steel gleams brightly in the afternoon sun, so much so that it might well blind an ordinary pony up close. As planned, the weather pegasi whip up just enough of a wind to cause his mane and cape to billow dramatically as he strides into full view of the audience. Like we discussed, he flares his wings as wide as they can go and simultaneously lights up his horn. Standing there in his armor and cape, a stoic look concealing the embarrassment that only I can sense, my husband looks the very image of a noble warrior prince. I for one think that it’s quite dashing. The reactions from the audience are mixed. Some stare blankly with shock. Others shout in dismay. Still more whisper to their neighbors, pointing at Shining. But by far, the biggest reaction is applause. It starts slowly, with a few of the bolder ponies stamping their hooves for their prince. Then, like an avalanche started by a single pebble, it grows and grows until it’s out of all control. The crowd below us cheers wildly, stamping their hooves or clapping their hands or talons in thunderous, rapturous applause. Bolstered by long years of military discipline, Shining Armor keeps his face neutral and stoic, trying to look the part of the brave commander. But from up close, I can see a small tear sliding down his cheek and the twitching at the corner of his mouth. But most of all, I can feel my husband’s happiness radiating from the core of his being. From where I stand, off to the side as not to hog the spotlight, I smile contentedly.