Anger, pain, both burned deep within his body as he let the words play through his head.
Shining Armor sat on the couch, hunched over and hooves steepled as he waited for Cadence to walk into the room. Twilight’s letter sat open on the coffee table, almost taunting him—like a new cadet, a fresh face to the academy, mouthing off on the very first day and just daring him to do something about it. The only difference was that he couldn’t make a letter run laps until it vomited, or do push ups until their forelegs felt like jelly.
Nor could he very well send Twilight a nasty letter in reply, demanding that she explain why he hadn’t been notified. Well, he could if he wanted to be an utter jerk about the whole thing.
The only thing saving her is her insistence that Cady come clean with me, he fumed. Shining took a deep breath and closed his eyes, counting backward from ten for what must have been the third time.
And then he did so a fourth time.
And a fifth.
It wasn’t working. Usual methods for calming the raging inferno that was his temper were failing, instead only serving to stoke the flames. Deep breathing, counting backwards, both methods Cadence taught him back in high school when he started getting into sports and big competitions.
The mere thought of her name brought a scowl to his lips. He glanced at the letter again, scanning over the words.
“Objectively, the Council does bring up several good points: between his injuries in the forest and the events that lead to Sombra’s regime—what we know, at least—there is a legitimate issue to be had with how Shiny takes care of himself. Or rather, how he doesn’t. You and I both know how he is on that front. Additionally, they make a logical point on providing an heir, see the aforementioned for reasons.”
Shining ground his teeth together, he could almost feel the enamel cracking under the pressure. I take care of myself just fine, thank you very much! One little mistake, one injury because I stepped between my recruits, my trainees, and a mauling bear, and suddenly everypony thinks they have to pick me up and carry me like a foal!
He was just fine, perfectly healthy and whole! Yet they still doubted him at every turn!
From his timeline for training recruits, to his health, and now his job! And foals! Providing an heir to the Crystal Throne!
When in the name of Celestia and Luna’s crowns had the Council brought that up? Certainly not in front of him the few times he was in session with them. The most he’d heard of the matter was Cadence’s drunken rambling on the carriage ride home from the pub and—oh!
His nostrils flared. The date! Right after their lovely night at the Iridescent, they’d come back to the suite, flirting with one another like a couple of young teens recklessly in love—foals were right in the forefront of Cadence’s mind.
Thinking of the little doorcolt and how young Stout Heart was, she claimed. What a load of horseapples! He snorted, flicking his tail derisively. Spontaneous inspiration, my cutie mark! How long have they been badgering her for foals? How long have they been trying to make me retire?
How long had Cadence been lying to him? How many of her smiles had been forced, purely for his “benefit”?
Shining flicked his ear at the steady clip-clop of hooves against crystal floor. A scowl crossed his muzzle as the steps came closer. He slumped his shoulders, glaring balefully at the letter as if he could incinerate it with a mere thought.
Deep breaths. Don’t blow up. Breathe in deep, exhale slowly. Don’t yell, don’t throw anything. Don’t cast magic. Do. Not. Cast.
Bolts of pink magic sparked and crackled around his horn. Another deep breath—in through his snout, out through his mouth. Slowly, he forced his magic to dissipate as he exhaled.
“Shiny?” Cadence called as she entered. “There’s something we really need to—“ she stopped short, her words cut off by a gasp. “Sh-Shiny, where did you…”
His fragile control over his temper broke. Shining turned to glare at her, his eyes boring into her brilliant purple. “How long?” he ground out through gritted teeth.
Two words. All it took to turn her blood to ice were two words and the ugly, furious scowl across Shining’s handsome muzzle.
Cadence felt her heart sink into her stomach, she struggled to tear her eyes away from his to check the paper resting on the coffee table, as if a second glance might prove it nothing more than a mistake. Maybe a new tax form the Council had slipped through, or something the could be remedied with a quick meeting.
Of course, she knew it was just wishful thinking. Twilight’s neat script stared back at her, almost insolently defying her wishes.
Too long. She’d put it off far too long. One look into his eyes—those cerulean blues she’d come to love for how they shined with mirth and vigor—made her hooves tremble. Eyes that once looked at her with nothing but love and admiration bored into her, burning with indignation.
“Answer me!” he barked, his horn flashing pink. Somewhere behind her, a glass shattered.
Without thinking, Cadence raised a hoof. “Sh-Shiny, calm down! Take a deep breath and—“
His eyes flashed, his lips peeled back to reveal his teeth—a snarl the likes of which he normally reserved for the most unruly of recruits.
Wrong thing to say.
Sparks of magic danced off his horn, leaving scorch marks on the couch. “Don’t tell me to calm down, Cadence!” She recoiled, the venom in his tone foreign to her ears. “Explain this. Now!” Shining growled, his magic whipped the letter off the table and holding it in front of her muzzle.
Forcing her to read the very words which had plagued her mind for the past several days.
Cadence closed her eyes and took in a shuddering breath. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. She lit up her horn, gently wrapping her magic around his—a sign of comforting among unicorns. But as quickly as she did so, he retracted his own.
No simple gestures would ease his temper this time.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her wings itched to open and take to the sky to escape his furious gaze. No, she thought as she lowered the letter and gave a resigned sigh. It’s time. No more stalling.
With trembling hooves and butterflies in her chest, Cadence stepped over toward the loveseat across from the couch, and sat down. She set the letter on the table between them, as if they were two foreign leaders negotiating. Or, more on topic: the Imperial Crystal Princess and her Captain of the Imperial Guard.
“For some time,” she began, “the Council of Shards has been concerned with the dangers associated with your duty, and how that might impact your longevity on the Throne. You don’t tend to like taking the traditional role of an officer—you bounce from administrative work at your desk to training and drilling out in the field with your soldiers. That’s been something of a bother to them since the first day the Equestrian Royal Guard was posted and we took the Throne, and only grown more prevalent since you revived the Imperial Guard.”
His eyes narrowed. “And why was this not brought to my attention in the first place?”
Not helping at all. “It was kept to quiet grumblings at first. They didn’t have enough traction to really force the issue until you started taking the recruits outside the city limits for periodic runs to get them familiar to the territory.” She winced, thinking back to one particular discussion. “They, er, brought up your actions in leading Twilight and her friends to the Empire. How you went alone to meet them rather than taking a full platoon—“
“I kept our forces back in order to protect the city should something happen!” Shining snapped. “That load of horseapples doesn’t fly with me!”
“I know why you did it, and I told them such.” Cadence held up a hoof to forestall further comment. “It was just a point they raised regarding a certain pattern you follow. You don’t like to give orders and sit back, you give orders to charge and go running at full-gallop into the fray—and that’s wonderful for morale.” Her wings drooped low, she gave him a pitying smile. “But they looked at it in combination with your drills and determined it to be a risk. They’re afraid, Shiny.”
Shining closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath through his snout. “At what point did this become an issue to where they want me off the field?”
Her gaze fell. “Months ago,” she muttered. “They wanted me to convince you to leave the recruits’ training to Lighthoof and Wind Runner, and for you to be in administrative duty, limited to periodic field inspections and watching them parade in the yard.”
“And that’s their ‘generous’ request, I take it?” At her nod, he growled. “And just how do they expect me to lead should an attack happen? Through paperwork?”
“That was something I argued, and for a while it worked. I was able to play up your role as our top strategist and highest ranking officer, and it quieted them a bit.” Cadence flicked her tail, awkwardly rubbing at her shoulder. “Though not enough for them to still want you off of active duty. They had their hopes on you returning to a role more akin to what they’re familiar with—at least, what they can remember from the days before Sombra.”
“Concerns and hopes that should have been brought to me!” He barked, his eyes burning with indignant fury. “So, tell me, how does one injury suddenly turn this into me being so fragile that I should be removed from duty entirely? I made one mistake—one—and they want you to dismiss me?”
She raised her hoof again, ducking her head to make herself seem smaller. “Actually, they wanted me to ask you to train a replacement. And, eventually, retire.”
Silence fell over the pair. Again, Shining closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She could almost hear him counting to ten in his head, then continuing on to twenty.
Waited too long, and now I’m paying for it. Cadence stopped herself short, frowning. No. He’s paying for it. You stupid, finicky mare.
“When?”
Her ears flicked, only barely picking up his whisper. “What are you asking?”
He looked up, glaring at her once more. “When did you find out?” His hooves shook, as if he were straining to hold them together in fear of breaking something. “How long have you been hiding this from me?”
Cadence closed her eyes, fighting against the burn of hot tears that threatened to spill. She made to tell him, to open right up and let everything out. How she’d gone into the meeting after their date, how numb she felt in the days that followed, how she agonized over the problem and sulked until Prism and Tourmaline chatted with her.
How much it meant when he brought her tea and rubbed her back as he listened patiently, and offered an ear whenever she needed.
Talk. She opened her eyes, readying herself to answer and move forward. But upon meeting his eyes, her voice failed her.
Those wonderful eyes filled with hurt and anger toward her, and rightfully so. She’d hidden from him, faked a smile and pretended everything was okay. She pretended that her problems would just go away if she buried them in the back of her mind and played “happy Cady” for Shining.
Only now did she see how much more it could hurt him. Moping like a filly, then pretending it was all nothing, hiding everything for so long hurt him worse than if I’d have just said it that night.
Her mouth worked wordlessly, struggling with how to begin. The lump in her throat choked back the words, allowing her nothing more than a pathetic squeak.
Shining’s gaze hardened a moment, but then he sat up, blinking in comprehension. “That week?” he asked, like he’d just discovered the secrets of magic. “You moped around all week, you were distant from everypony, especially me!” With each word, his voice raised, his anger at the forefront. “You told me they were being difficult with my progress reports! And that they were pestering you about the economy!”
“They were!” she blurted. “Quite a bit of the meeting was centered around both, and I was ready to discuss those issues! The Council caught me completely off-guard with a question about the forest incident and—“
“You lied!” Shining cut her off, jabbing a shaking hoof at her. “I asked you, I begged you time and time again to tell me what was wrong that week! And when you finally told me, I asked you to tell me about whatever was bothering you, and I’d try to help!”
Not good. She was just making excuses. Focus! “I know! I was stupid, and afraid, and I thought…” Images of Shining wrapped in bandages, the memory of the Council begging her to ask him as they’d done so many times all flashed through her mind.
But no memory replayed more than the little colt proudly swearing to protect his loved ones and never leave her side.
Cadence squeezed her eyes shut, a tear rolled down her cheek. “I thought I could find a way to protect you.”
A sharp intake of breath, a loud thud as Shining slammed his hooves down on the coffee table. “Protect me?” he cried. “I’ve been to the heart of the Griffin Territories and sparred hoof to talon with the best soldiers Lord Alfons had to offer and won his favor, Princess Celestia herself named me Captain of the Royal Guard! Why in Tartarus would you think I need protecting! I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you! And them!”
The little colt changed. His eyes were glassy, glowing green while his lips curved into a vacant smile. He grew into a stallion, whose face was haggard and wrought with stress lines. Familiar laughter rang in her ears, green flames encircled him as a shadowy figure stepped into view and laid a hoof upon his shoulders, caressing almost lovingly.
As a guard, he was always in danger, and he would always put himself in harms way to protect others. His life would be laid down without a moment’s hesitation, each time he went out was just another reminder that he might not return.
“Maybe I don’t want that anymore!”
Her voice echoed off the crystalline walls, ringing in her ears. Cadence’s eyes went wide, she hastily slapped a hoof over her mouth as if she could catch and trap the words inside.
Too late.
Shining gaped at her, his mouth hung open and shoulders slumped. If not for his hooves on the table, he might’ve toppled over. “You… what?”
No, no, no. What Cadence wouldn’t give for Star Swirl’s time travel spell, all she needed was a do-over for the last few seconds. “I-I didn’t mean it like that,” she said weakly. “Shiny, I didn’t—“
“Yes you do.” He looked down at the table, bringing a hoof up to rub at his forehead. “You said it yourself in the carriage, the night we came back from the pub. You don’t want me hurt, and protecting other ponies puts me in that position.” Slowly, he dragged his hoof down his muzzle. “Is that why you weren’t going to tell me until the last moment?”
“Wh-What? No!” Cadence shook her head frantically, tears openly spilled from her eyes. “I wouldn’t—I—No! I never meant to—“
His head snapped up, the burning glare made her words die in her throat. “What else was a lie, Cadence? What else were you going to keep from me until I found it myself?”
Cadence recoiled, his words piercing through her chest like a lance, cutting deep into her heart. No! He had it all wrong! It wasn’t meant to hurt him, everything she’d done, every time she put a smile on had been to take a load off his mind.
And it all backfired so spectacularly. She’d never seen him so hurt—his wounds always came from enemies or training, not from those he loved. Just as it should be for a Royal Guard.
Her first instinct was to go to him. With great trepidation and trembling hoof, Cadence reached to touch his shoulder. A small gesture, something meant only to show support while she struggled to justify herself.
Shining’s horn flashed, a pink shield sprang to life between them, blocking her hoof before it could reach him.
She flinched, but didn’t draw back. She tried to press forward, desperately trying to force his shield to bend and grant passage. His magic, normally so warm and powered by his desire to protect those around him felt cold to her touch.
Shining Armor was blocking her out.
Barely suppressing a panicked whine, Cadence channeled magic through her horn. The counterspell to his shield fresh in her mind, something once used to aid in her teasing now an act of desperation.
But he was ready. Whenever her magic tried to pick the lock, his countered. A dance between mages—each capable of blanketing their city with their shields.
Just as Cadence thought she managed to outmaneuver him, Shining flared his horn and pushed outward, tossing her magic aside. The sky blue light wreathing her horn flickered, she readied to try again, she had to get to him!
“Stop. Just stop,” he mumbled, standing abruptly and sidestepping out of reach. Turning away from her, he slowly trotted toward the door, his pink dome-shield still intact. With another flick of his magic, his armor floated from their bedroom and trailed in his wake. His magic wrapped around the doorknob, roughly pulling it open. “I need to be alone.”
No! Cadence leapt to her hooves. “Shining, wait! Please let me—“
“Just leave me alone right now, Cadence. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to talk, I can’t or I’ll—“ he stopped, taking in a deep, shuddering breath “—I’ll say something both of us regret.” Shining glanced over his shoulder, their eyes met for a split second until he tore his gaze from her again. “I’ll be sleeping in one of the guest rooms tonight. And possibly tomorrow. I don’t know.”
Without another word, he stepped out of their room. The door closed behind him with a click that seemed to echo off the walls.
Cadence let her hind legs give out, falling back on her haunches and holding her head low. She’d made a mess of everything. Prism, Tourmaline, even Twilight had warned her to speak up sooner rather than later, or she would run the risk of letting Shining discover for himself.
Tears cascaded down the sides of her muzzle, dripping off the end of her snout. “I’m sorry, Shiny,” she choked out, speaking to an audience that wasn’t there. “I’m so sorry.”
A bed had never felt so cold and lonely as it was when she managed to drag herself off to the luxurious suite, one that seemed so empty without her Shining Armor.
“I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me.”