When and if Shining ever told the story of how he and Cadence discussed—actually discussed, not using it as a segue into having sex together (though, sex with the pony who embodied love was a pretty awesome thing in and of itself)—the prospect of having foals together, there were certain things he would leave out.
Maybe he’d say something about how it was a casual discussion one night while they were both enjoying each other’s company, make it something like the typical, idyllic story his parents would fabricate for Twilight and himself when they asked. Or perhaps he might edit the events surrounding their talk so that their friends and any future foals wouldn’t have to hear of their first “big fight” since marriage.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t been sent to the couch since that time he came back from the Griffon Territories and foolishly greeted Cadence with a big, goofy grin and an all-too-jubilant cry of “Hi, Cady! You’ll never believe how much fun fighting in the coliseum was!”
Celestia herself groaned and brought a hoof to her forehead at that one, before taking a rather big step to the left so to escape the “splash zone,” as she later called it while relaying the tale to Luna and various other dignitaries. Always with Cadence and Shining themselves nearby and trying their best to find some way to sink through the floor or escape the teleport nullification barrier she’d put up.
They never could.
In any case, there was one thing Shining Armor knew for absolute certain that he’d change in any iteration of the story: he would simply never allow anypony, not even Cadence, to know that he felt his blood run cold, or that he froze like a foal in the path of a runaway apple cart.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want foals ever.
It was more the reality of Cadence putting something in front of him, placing her hoof on it, and slapping an “I want this, please” sticker on it. Figuratively speaking, of course.
Shining blinked his eyes a few times and sat back in his sea. “You want foals,” he repeated, as if confirming a report from his subordinates. Just to make sure he heard right.
His tone must’ve come off wrong. Cadence ducked her head and looked down at the table. “I don’t mean, like, right now. Just …” she trailed off, squirming in place. “In the future. Whether it’s immediate or distant. I just wanted you to know that my want for foals wasn’t a, um, Council-based request.”
He flinched. So that’s what brought it on.
Biting back a curse, he looked down at his empty plate. “I didn’t mean to imply that it was,” he said. He didn’t dare meet her eyes. “I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”
“No. You had a reason to think it at the time.” She paused a beat, then added, "A good one."
Shining looked up, cringing as he felt his neck muscles strain. A fervent denial was already fresh on the tip of his tongue.
Then Cadence looked up, her beautiful purple eyes shone with sadness and regret. Her ears drooped low.
The words died before he could even begin to form them. Shining hung his head, thinking a moment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then spoke in a firm voice, “No. It wasn’t fair in the slightest.”
A remorseful sigh made his ear flick and brought a frown to his muzzle. “Shining,” Cadence began.
His eyes snapped open. Shining Armor leaned forward and slapped his hoof against the table. The silverware jumped and clattered. “I’m not having you blame yourself or try to let me pin everything on the Council, Cadence,” he scolded. “For as long as I’ve known you, it’s been no secret that you love foals. It’s what got us started as friends!”
She flinched at his tone. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Cadence wrung her hooves together. “I just know we haven’t really discussed us having foals, and with the Council wanting you to step back so we could produce heirs …”
“I’ll … deal with that later.” Oh, that much was for certain. Council or not—stuck in the old traditions or not—Cadence was his wife, and the way their marriage ran was most definitely not up for discussion by anypony.
The Council of Shards would hear from Shining Armor on that matter. Oh yes. Whether Cadence wanted it or not, he had more than a few words for them.
Clear Cut had better realize that when I figure out a polite way to tell them, that it would be in his very best interests to keep his mouth shut, or he’s going to get a nice littler reminder which of us holds higher standing. He forced himself not to smirk. While the Council certainly represented the will of the crystal ponies—and they did, admittedly, want to do right by them—the real power laid with the Crystal Throne. At least, as far as he knew.
The wheels began to turn in his head. Perhaps it might be time to get Twilight on the case.
Surely she wouldn’t mind taking an innocent little vacation to the Crystal Empire to see her BBBFF and the “best foalsitter in all of Equestria.” And if she so happened to find her way into the ancient library of the Crystal Empire, searching for information on the traditional balance of power between the Throne and the Council, then who was he to complain if she was enjoying herself?
“What are you plotting?” Cadence’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Shining’s reply was well-practiced. He plastered a bright smile on his muzzle and perked his ears up straight as he sat back in his seat. “Nothing at all. Just thinking. About things.”
She stared, her eyes bored into his. “Just thinking?” she repeated, incredulity tinging her tone. “So, that little gleam in your eyes that everypony in your family gets whenever they’re thinking of ways to mess with somepony else is just my imagination, then.”
She knew the look? He sucked in a breath through his teeth, giving himself a mental slap. Of course she knew the look. Everypony in his family, from his father whenever he put something together to shut up an uppity coworker to Twilight when she wanted to trick Cadence into giving her extra cookies, did the look. Even their mother—much as she loved to pin it on Night Light—got that gleam in her eyes as her lips curved into a cheshire cat grin.
Cadence had known them all for far too long.
Probably best to come clean, then.
Or at least give a half truth.
“Just thinking of how much I look forward to my next chat with Clear Cut,” he said.
Groaning, Cadence buried her face in her hooves. “I knew it. Please don’t be too mean.”
“I won’t. It’ll all be nice, clean, and completely fair to all parties.” I’ll just make sure we all know who sits where at the table here. Putting that aside for a moment, he continued, “So, moving back to the subject at hoof.” He ran his tongue over his lips. When had they gotten so dry? “Foals. You want them.”
The way she looked up slowly along with the slight inclining of her brows told him all he needed to know: she wasn’t forgetting his little crack about discussing with the Council, but she’d allow him a free pass.
If only because they’d just made up.
“Yes,” she replied, giving a single nod. “I would like us to have foals at some point.”
Shining took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, exhaling heavily. “Okay. Wow. This is, um, not exactly shocking to hear, because, like I said, I kinda knew you wanted them … Hoo boy.” He ran a hoof through his mane, forcing a chuckle. “Gosh. Is it bad that I feel like I did the first time I saw Drill Sergeant Lightning Lancer coming toward me?”
Cadence tilted her head, a frown marred her muzzle. “You’re not enthused with the idea then.”
“I am!” he replied. “I mean, I like the idea, it’s just … having foals is a lot different than having a little sister and a baby dragon, you know? And then there’s—” his ears laid flat, his gaze fell to his plate again. Shining heaved a sigh.
“What? And then there’s what?” He the chair shift as she leaned forward. Her naked hoof touched against his wrist. “Shining, why do you feel like you’ve got that brute of a Drill Sergeant coming toward you?”
Letting his shoulders slump, he gave his answer, “You’ll be a wonderful mother, of course. That much is for certain.” He forced another chuckle, glancing up at her for a split second before letting his eyes flit over to a picture of the pair of them with Twilight and Spike from her second year in Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. “Hay, you were the first pony Twily opened up to outside the family; we were all ready to sing your praises from the top of the mountain!”
Cadence’s hoof gripped his wrist tight. “Shining,” she said softly. “You’re starting to ramble.”
“I’m not—okay, maybe I am a little.” Shining turned his hoof so he could loop his wrist around hers, interlocking them. “It’s not that I don’t want foals. I’m just … I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being silly because of what’s been going on between us lately.”
“Then talk to me, Shiny. Look at me and tell me what’s bothering you.”
Shining let out a shaky breath and slowly looked up to meet her gaze. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be a father. Or even if I can be a good father.”
Her grip tightened, painfully so. He winced, then recoiled as her eyes flashed with anger.
“Explain,” she commanded, her voice taking on a cold edge that sent a shiver down his spine.
“Er, which—”
“The part where the stallion I’ve watched laugh and play with his sister, practically spoiling her with all the affection he could, and then doing the same and being an overprotective, thick-headed soldier for his wife thinks he won't be a good father.”
He wasn’t entirely sure which was worse: the way she looked at him, or the way she threw his own doubt back at him in much the same manner he’d seen her as she readied to rip into her cousin, Blueblood.
Running his free hoof through his mane, Shining gave a pained smile. “I don’t really have a reason. Just a worry. I’ve put you through a lot lately, and—”
“And now who’s the one putting blame on himself?” Cadence arched a brow. “We’ve discussed how we can proceed with things to appease the Council, and our ponies, while still letting you keep your job. If I don’t get to call how I’ve been acting unfair to you, then you don’t get to talk to me about what sort of father your job may or may not make you for the foals we don’t even have yet. In short, shut up about your job and stop being a dunce. And I swear to Celestia, if your ‘worry’ is your job and how it makes you a father after all this—”
Cadence trailed off, sucking in a deep breath through her nose. She gave his wrist another squeeze. “You’ll be a great father, Shining Armor. I know it.”
Shining sat quietly for a moment. He let his shoulders relax and unpinned his ears. “I guess that is rather silly of me. Again.” Laughing to himself, he shook his head. “We’re both really bad about this whole ‘you can’t do this, but I’ll do it all the same’ thing, aren’t we?”
“Terribly so,” she replied with a smile. “But there’s worse reasons to do silly things than caring for my husband.”
“Or my wife,” he put in.
Cadence gave a playful huff and toss of her mane. “I’m a grown mare.”
Raising an eyebrow, Shining snorted. “I’m a grown stallion.”
In almost perfect unison, they both rolled their eyes and intoned, “And I will be treated as such, mom!”
For the first time in days, they shared a laugh together—real, genuine laughter. Somehow, despite all they still had to deal with, everything just felt right.
Shining turned their hooves over so his laid on top of hers. “I still feel bad about how stressed you’ve been,” he said.
“Struggles of ruling.” Cadence shrugged. “Auntie Celestia drinks her tea and has cakes with Luna, Raven, and Midnight after they finish Court or whatever duties they have, which is supposed to be rather relaxing. And a nice time for them all to spend time together.”
“Spending time with their seneschals?” Shining hummed to himself. “Just imagine if our crystal ponies found out that we weren’t the oddballs of the Royal Family, and that even Celestia and Luna liked palling around with theirs.” At that, he perked his ears up. “Say …”
Cadence’s brows flatlined. “No.”
“You haven’t even heard my idea yet!”
“You have the look again. My immediate and final answer is no, and if you ignore it, I will have your most embarrassing foal pictures blown up and plastered all over the city.” Her eyebrow arched again, those brilliant purple eyes shone with mirth. “Your call.”
Shining recoiled as though she’d struck him, bringing his hooves up to protect himself. “Okay, okay! I surrender! Put down your weapons!”
“Smart boy.” Cadence beamed, sitting back in her seat.
“You used to let me get away with those things.”
“I’ve been dealing with a lot of things, and I’m still waiting for you to give me an answer.”
Blinking, Shining tilted his head. He stared a moment, then sat up straight. “Oh.”
Cadence raised her eyebrows. “Yes. Oh. So, what do you say?”
He shifted in his seat. “Um, I don’t necessarily know if I’m ready to be a father right now …” he trailed off, biting his lip. “But if it happened, even if it came sooner rather than later, I wouldn’t be against it either. Just ... maybe when things settle down.” Offering a small smile, he took her hoof again. “I think that's about as fair an answer as I can give answer, then.”
“And it doesn’t have anything to do with the Council pushing?” Cadence asked.
“Not a thing.” He brought her hoof to his lips and kissed it, smirking at the way she sucked in her lips to hide a smile. “Just that I’d be happy to start a family with the mare I conned into marrying a goofball like me.”
The smile she gave in reply sent warmth flooding into his chest. “I’m glad,” she said. Gently tugging her hoof from his grasp, she took a deep breath and sighed wistfully. Then, she blinked and looked toward the door, furrowing her brows. “You know, I don’t mean to be snippy, but what in the name of Equestria is taking them so long?”
“That’s … a rather good question.” Shining shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe they had a heart attack when you uttered the phrase ‘surprise us.’”
“Oh, hush. They probably just made a little mistake on something.”
It took every fiber of his self-control not to grin outright. Instead, Shining offered a small smile before turning away to look at another picture, this time with Twilight’s head resting atop his while she rode on his back. “Perhaps they’re busy freaking out that they get to decide the meal to please their beloved Crystal Princess.”
He flicked his left ear toward Cadence, he could practically hear her neck muscles creaking as she turned to fix him with a glare-slash-totally-not-hiding-a-smile. Fighting back laughter, he faced her, then started as though shocked by her reaction. “What?”
Her ears pinned back. “Don’t you ‘what’ me, mister!” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I am a mess of emotions, and stress, and I only just got you back talking to me, and I do not need these antics right now!”
“Well, antics come with the territory of talking to me again, Cady.” Seeing her suck in a breath, he smirked. An idea came to mind, a nice way to revisit something from earlier and segue toward some nice, relaxed Cadence time. In a flash of pink, the card Esalen gave him between them. “You could always give that mare’s massage clinic a chance.”
Wrinkling her snout, Cadence glanced at the card. “It’s not that I don’t like the idea, it’s more that I have no idea how good she is. You know I’m a bit finicky when it comes to that.”
Shining rolled his eyes. “You’re also a bit finicky about how you like your feathers preened.” Before she could deny it, he leaned across the table and stole a kiss. “Which is why I made sure to learn as quickly as I could.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” she muttered, puffing out her cheeks as she crossed her hooves over her chest. The corners of her mouth tugged into a smile despite her act.
Naturally, Shining couldn’t just let that go. “You’re smiling.”
“Am not!”
“Are too! I see it right there!”
With a rustle of her wings, she waved a hoof as if to banish him from her presence. “No, I’m not! Shut up or I will … put forth a royal command that you can’t do anything but preen my feathers and rub my hooves and give me all the attention I want for a week!”
“Not seeing the problem. Of course, I’m also not seeing why you don’t just go see this mare,” Shining added. “She seemed nice. And rather funny.”
“If you think so, then why don’t you go give her services a try?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Shining knew he was in trouble.
He watched in muted horror as the realization dawned on her. Her ears perked up, a bright smile made its way across her muzzle. “Cady. Cady, no.”
“Shining,” she purred. “Shining, yes. Since you seem to like her and think I should go, I think it’s only fair that you try out her services and let me know how it goes.”
“Nope. I’m not being your guinea pig on this one.” Shining folded his hooves over his chest and closed his eyes. “I don’t do massages, and I’m not starting now.”
For a moment, there was silence. His ears twitched, waiting for Cadence to begin her mock simpering and crooning over him until he gave in.
None came.
Against his better judgement, Shining dared to sneak a peak. Just in case she was trying to slink around the table to catch him in a hug and start playing with his ears, or trailing her feathers down his thighs, or whatever wicked combinations of flirting she might try.
Instead, he was met with wide eyes that seemed to shine, and the most pitiful pout he’d ever seen.
He snorted. “That’s not going to work, Cady. I grew up with Twily.”
She gave no reply, simply hanging her head and laying her ears flat.
Shining did his best not to flinch. “Stop that. I know you’re faking. Stop looking at me like that.”
Cadence just kept pouting.
“For the love of Celestia, stop it! I’m not changing my mind!”
“I can’t freaking believe I caved,” Shining grumbled as he glared at the building before him.
The clinic, as Esalen called it, was less an actual clinic and more a small building among the gem crafting guilds and shopping plaza in the Garnet District. Across the street, there was a rather tall apartment complex, with ponies of all ages—a few of his guards stationed in the area, even—milling about.
A smile made its way across his muzzle as he watched a pair of his Royal Guards in their gleaming gold armor chatting away with a crowd of star struck foals, who sat with rapt attention as their crystalline bodies shone in the morning sun.
Nice to see they’re starting to see us as ponies here to protect, not oppress.
Shining turned back to the clinic again, his eyes flitted to the sign above the door, tracing along the name written in elegant pink and aquamarine script.
Hearts On Our Hooves Physical Therapy
Esalen, Licensed Massage Therapist
Toola Roola, Licensed Yoga Instructor and Professional Gymnast
A shiver ran down his spine. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of loosening up his muscles and feeling better. But some of the things he’d heard, the different techniques and how they could be applied in ways that were either as smooth as silk or as rough as a stampede of buffalo just rubbed him the wrong way.
And yoga was just right out. He was most certainly not flexible enough for that. As far as he was concerned, ponies did not bend that way, and should not bend that way. Period.
He wrinkled his snout, thinking back to Cadence’s request the night before. Scoffing, he mimicked her voice, albeit rather poorly, “Give it a try and see how you like it! It might help you take care of some stress too!”
Okay, so he was a bit stressed with work and dealing with her having stress, but that didn’t mean he needed to be ground into a thick paste and then twisted into a pretzel!
But Cadence wanted him to check the place out and had brought up a few good points to counter his denials—namely, the he was just as worked up and stressed as she was, and that he looked like he could use a day of relaxing.
His mouth set in a thin line. He’d much rather just spend the day with her. Maybe eat lunch together somewhere nice, or go off alone. Or maybe they could talk a little bit about Alfons’ visit.
Well, that would have to happen anyway. Maybe he’d just stick with wanting lunch.
Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Shining hummed to himself. In fact, I don’t think she’ll get to say no. Lunch, talking more about things, and just us.
After the stupid massage, of course.
With his mind made up, Shining approached the door and channeled magic through his horn, wrapping it around the handle.
Before he could pull it open, the door pushed out, and he found himself face to face with a familiar pair of green eyes and a glimmering pale yellow coat.
Shining blinked as his brain connected the dots. A smirk crossed his muzzle, contrasted by the wide-eyed stare and ducking of the other stallion’s head.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t my favorite ex-recruit. How’re you this fine morning, Glimmer?”
Maybe this visit would be fun after all.