~Cadence; n ˈkā-dən(t)s: a melodic or harmonic configuration that creates a sense of repose or resolution [finality or pause].
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One
Opening her eyes, Cadance felt the warm beams of sunlight that lay across her fur. Sitting up, she let the covers fall off of her body and felt her long mane pour across her body. Stifling a yawn, she looked over and smiled at the supine form that lay next to her.
Shining Armor, in much less armor and more shining than she had ever seen him before, lay splayed out, wrapped frivolously in silken, violet covers. Cadance smiled as she let out a small sigh that trailed off into a tiny laugh. Last night had been… everything. She had never slept in the same bed with another pony before, and here it was that their union had been something beyond what she could hope to dream of.
Brushing away memories of unbridled admittances of desire and adoration uttered in the heat of passion, she nudged the dense lump of fur and hair that lay snoring quietly beside her.
“Shining,” she whispered, gently at first, and then, feeling rather devilish, stuck her snout in his mane and settled right by his ear. He smelled faintly of peppermint.
“Shining Armor!” she whispered sharply, and with a gasp and a grunt, the addressed stallion rolled about on his back. The smile on his face melted across like a blotch of ink spilled on parchment, and it spread quickly and unstoppably as he rolled about to look upon his beloved.
“Good morning, my princess. I hope you slept as well as I?” His azure eyes looked into hers, and she basked in their radiance. A touching, soul-enrapturing warmth seemed to bubble up around her heart, and it was all she could do not to break into tears at this incredible stallion.
“I… Yes, of course I did, Shining. I hope you did too. And… last night…” She trailed off as a crimson blush stained her features. Shining merely grinned the lopsided smirk she so loved and nuzzled her gently.
“It was spectacular. You were.” That warm sensation washed over Cadance once more at Shining’s loving gaze and kind words.
“It was something out of a dream. I mean, I’ve never experienced something like it… I, I…” she trailed off, laying down at the gentle insistence of Shining’s strong hoof. Her husband inched himself closer to her, making sure to tuck their bodies in as close as they could go.
“I agree. And you know what? We’ve both got a long life ahead of us to experience new things together.” Closing his eyes to fall back asleep, Shining only just missed the glimmer of something in Cadance's own eye.
Because as her husband’s words bounced about in her head, they struck something inside of her: some hidden reminder, some locked-away annoyance. And at the words’ key, the gate unlocked, and she felt a horrible sensation of realization, a fact that stopped her breath and made her heart beat not lifeblood, but frigid ice water.
It was something that brought a glimmer to her eye— not a twinkle of adoration, but a vibrant tear of remorseful sorrow as she looked upon her love’s still body.
And there he lay, the hero of the Majesty her Highness, the Captain of the Royal guard for almost fifty years, the commander of the forces of the Crystal Kingdom.
But all those titles, those fancy names didn't change a single thing. He was my husband. My love.
And now he's gone.
Cadance brushed her snout for the hundredth time by routine as her veil draped about her face and obscured her vision. Shining looked so beautiful, so peaceful, so… majestic, lying there. They had done such an incredible job with his ceremonial armor, had placed his grey and cyan mane in such a regal way…
Cadance choked on a sob. She couldn’t handle it. Turning quickly on her hooves, she trotted as fast as the black dress would allow her, weaving about other ponies dressed in a similar manner. Bursting through the tall wooden doors, she let out a gasping breath as she found herself alone out on a balcony. If she hadn’t already been asphyxiated by the strain of so much internal pain, she might have considered the view of the gently setting sun and romantic landscape to be breathtaking.
Trotting a few steps up to the edge of the balcony, Cadance felt her body begin to pull itself together. Piece by piece, it was coming along slowly, but surely. Though, once it seemed everything was brought together, there was still something missing from her being. Something that one could easily miss, like a whisper in a crowded train station, but it was as big as a smile on the lips of someone you loved.
Tip-toeing up to the edge of the balcony, she dared to peek over the brink of the world. It seemed so far, the drop into the green valley below. Maybe... Just maybe she could…
“Cadance?” The alicorn jumped slightly at the inquisitive voice. “What are you up to?”
“Ah… Nothing.” Cadance threw on a smile, but trying to pull up the corners of her mouth shot a nervous pain into her stomach. Settling in on an odd smirk, she decided to just not turn around to face the voice. She knew who it was, anyways.
A gentle clopping of hooves pattered away behind her, and ended up stopping on her left side. A cloud of rainbow pastel brilliance flickered into her sight, and Cadance sighed. She was the last pony she wanted to see right now. Well, she didn’t want to see anypony right now, actually.
“You know, I’ve been watching this sun for well over a thousand years, and the beauty it casts into the sky still impresses me every single day. It’s like,” Celestia paused, taking in a breath gently, “casting a pebble into a pond. You can expect the ripples to make the same shape and the water to break in the same texture every time. Maybe you’ll even forego tossing the pebble into the water, just because you know what will happen every time you toss it in. But when you do… it’s like a liquid masterpiece set before you.”
A pause held still on the air, and a small breath of the wind nuzzled up against Cadance’s face, emitting a sigh from her.
“Thank you for the kind words, Auntie Celli, but I don’t think they’re helping quite as much as you think they are.” Turning about to look at her aunt, Cadance raised a curious eyebrow at the look on the pearly alicorn’s face.
“Cadance, I know what you are feeling. I went through the same thing when Twilight...” Celestia paused, thinking of a word to say, “passed, years ago. Everypony felt the loss, her friends included. We forget what it is like to live for so long, especially when the change around us seems so gradual, and then things are just taken from us by death like this.”
“Yeah… I know,” Cadance breathed, bitter resentment riding on her voice. Celestia continued on, though if she had heard her niece’s comment, Cadance did not know.
“But even now, in these dark times, we have happy things to look forward to. Your daughter’s wedding is coming up, is it not? Just a week left until they are married. It’ll be nothing but a legal binding at this point, considering how much time those two spend together when they can.” Celestia chuckled to herself quietly, “That pair really is inseparable.” Holding a pause on the air, Celestia clicked her tongue softly and bent down to plant a gentle kiss right behind her niece’s ear.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss, Cadance. You know I will be here for you if you ever want to talk things over. Auntie Lulu will be, too. Don’t forget, we know what you’re going through.” Celestia paused, and Cadance could almost hear the split of her lips into a calm smile. “Please feel better. And remember: time is a heal-all.”
With that, Celestia turned about and left as lightly as she had entered. With the gentle click of the door, Cadance let out the sob she had been holding in. Finally letting it all crash down, the weight crushed her tiny, scared mind, and she collapsed, holding the siding of the balcony. Crying uncontrollably, she lost control of her forearms and just slumped into a sobbing, vulnerable ball that slid slowly down the side of the railing.
Her aunt was a liar. Time did not heal all wounds. It merely left scars too deep to see. There couldn’t be a million years passed where this pain wouldn’t subside one tiny, little bit.
~Melody; n mel-uh-dee: a rhythmical succession of single tones producing a distinct musical phrase or idea.
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Two
Within the grand chambers all was silent, save for the crackling fire and the ticking patter of raindrops across the long, stained glassed window. The calming din was cut straight in half as an immense sneeze bounded off the stone walls and a hum of magic was heard.
“Dank you, darling,” Shining Armor said through a stuffed nose. He was wrapped not in his armor, but in crimson sheets that were wrinkled and mussed from the frantic actions of a unicorn who wanted anything in the world to not be bedridden. Next to him sat the form of his lovely wife, Cadance, who had magicked over a tissue for her beloved.
“You are quite welcome, hon,” the Princess said through a beaming smile. As Shining dabbed his nose and mouth, he crumpled the tissue into a ball, and then began to merely toy with it aimlessly. Both disgusted and humored, Cadance magicked the crumpled, used tissue over into the garbage can that was already overflowing with other assortments of used toiletries.
Shining humphed as his distraction was taken away and kicked at the covers he was lying tucked into.
“Cadance, I can’t be here. I need to continue the ceremony training. You can’t just keep me inside here while everypony else is doing drills! This is my sister's coronation, for Celestia's sake!” Cadance merely sighed, and rolling her eyes, pulled the covers over her husband with care.
“It’s not my fault you were practicing out there in the frigid rain. You’ve got a fever of a hundred, dear, and you’ve had the sniffles all day. I’m not letting you go outside, regardless of what event the training is for. The company will be fine without you. Hammer Head will lead the rest of the drills just fine. I trust him to do it right for your sister.” She smiled to give her kind words emphasis.
Shining opened his mouth to retaliate, but shut it quickly instead. As he looked out the window, he sighed deeply, and then turned back to his wife.
“Thank you, my love. You’re always here taking care of me. You’re so patient with me, even when I do stupid things… like…” Shining trailed off.
“…Like march in frigid rain in full armor. Yes, dear, I know. I’ll always be here to make you feel better. Especially when you do the most thickheaded things.” With a tiny laugh, she leaned down and kissed her husband right behind his right ear; exactly where he liked it.
“Mmm,” Shining grunted, both irritated and calmed by the two opposing feelings. After a time, though, he raised an eyebrow at his wife and spoke slowly, as if picking his words from a long list of possibilities.
“Cadance…”
“Hm?”
“How come you never get sick? I want to take care of you sometime. As far as I can recall,” the unicorn said, scratching his chin, “I don’t think you’ve ever been sick, not in the thirty years we’ve been married.” He frowned slightly at the revelation.
Oh no. Oh, Celestia, no. No, no, no... Not now, not like this…
“I... guess I just have a hardy composition,” the Princess said through a tight smile. Inside her mind, she was screaming.
You lied to him all these years and now it’s going to come crashing down! How dare you, Cadance!
Shining just laughed and smiled.
“I suppose you do. You alicorns are all rather bullet-proof, aren’t you? I’m just surprised you don’t have your aunts’ gift of such long life.” He laughed to himself again, and looked out the window as he heard the sharp whistle of the drill’s movements.
“Yeah. It’s a wonder, to be honest.”
Safe. Breathe, you’re safe for now. But it’s still a lie. You’ve been living this lie; will be cursed with this lie for every single damnable day you have to live when he is gone.
Cadance only just barely contained the sob that sprang up her throat as she looked at her love.
A breath of wind carried a gentle voice upon it, and with the sudden change, Cadance felt her mind melt collectively back into the numb pain of the present.
“Mom?” As Cadance turned about, she tried to straighten herself up. The effort was greater than what she had imagined it to be, and she stumbled to the floor, thus procuring a clop of quickly trotting hooves and a gentle but firm embrace around her trunk to help her back up.
“Are you okay, Mom?” came the dulcet voice of her daughter, Melodie. Wiping away a tear as inconspicuously as possible, Cadance looked upon her daughter, clad similarly to her in a smooth, black dress, though it was missing the gentle folds where the wings would go. Her lavender fur clashed with the dark satin, and her raven mane spilled about in her mother’s gilded curls underneath her black lace hat, from which protruded a long, powerful horn. Beneath the veil was easily read a look of barely-suppressed concern and the glistening of tears that ringed her golden amber eyes.
“I’m- I’m okay, dear,” Cadance said. The words almost stung her outright. They were a lie, and a very obvious one at that. With a disbelieving tsk, Melodie looked upon her mother, eyeing her like a poor dog that had been soaked in a storm, starved and left without a home to lie in.
“Mom… You’re in shambles. I can tell, you know. I haven’t been your daughter for twenty-eight years to not notice every little tick and foible that makes you, you.” She cracked a smile, a small gesture, but one that held mountains of comfort in it nonetheless.
“I’m just... It’s just not a good day today, Melodie,” Cadance said, varying her inflection so that she didn’t catch her breath on a choking sob. “Having your father pass was… was…” She stopped. She really didn’t know what. It was too many things to even pick one, like a river that crashed through the collective consciousness of every feeling she had ever known.
“It’s sad, Mom. It’s hard. It is so many things. And I’m sorry... for your loss. I know that he meant, well, the world to you.”
Cadance put a hoof up to silence her daughter from speaking further.
“Don’t be sorry for me. He was your father too, Melodie. I know he meant the world to you, too.”
A silence hung between the pair. A whisper of the wind’s breath pulled at the veils on their faces and brought an itch to Cadance’s nose, but she didn’t dare break the silence to bother with it. Finally, her daughter spoke up.
“Mom…” That voice, the way she said it, couldn’t hold anything good.
“Yes? What is it dear?”
“Mom…” Melodie said again, and raising an eyebrow, shifted her weight from one hoof to another. The way she had adjusted her body, she seemed almost to have backed away from her mother.
“Melodie…?” came Cadance’s reply. She hoped she had only imagined that crack in her voice…
“Mom, you know he knew, right? Dad wasn’t dumb. He figured it out, the last few years.”
Though her words were soft, gentle, and seemed to catch and disappear on the wind with as much resistance as a feather, they fell upon Cadance like a hot block of lead. They struck her with tendrils of searing acid that wrapped about her pained heart in a serpentine way.
“I… What?” Cadance asked, shocked. She could feel the salt flowing in her eyes, threatening to break the dam for what seemed like the hundredth time today. Melodie just held fast, her hooves planted firmly on the stone floor.
“He knew you have an alicorn’s life. He knew you would outlive him. He knew you lied to him, all those years.”
“B-But, I,” Cadance choked, all sense of composure lost, thrown off the edge of the balcony along with the wind that now berated instead of comforted. “I just, I didn’t—!” She was blathering now, stumbling forward, but felt pulled back by the look her daughter was giving her. She collapsed once more upon the railing, feeling all strength lost in her body in the indomitable will of pure and utter emotional agony.
Finally, after what seemed like nearly an hour, must certainly have been longer, she caught her breath and looked up at her daughter. From the way she was looking up, the late-noon sun shone down behind her daughter’s face, darkening her features into a black shade of inconceivable enigma.
And draped in her black mourning veil, she looked the part of death, and for all intents and purposes, she may as well have been, the way Cadance uttered her single question to the dark spectre of fate that seemed to have appeared right before her.
“How long did he know?” she breathed at the sun-shadowed figure as make-up oozed down her tear-filled face.
“I…” the spectre stammered, something that caught Cadance by surprise. “He knew for the last ten years or so. A bit before Auntie Twilight passed away, mom.” At her daughter’s call, the shadow seemed to drip off the edges of its imposing form to reveal a concerned unicorn. Kneeling down, Melodie helped her mother up for the second time today. Cadance planted her hooves solidly on the ground, but felt her knees beginning to lock.
“I… How did he know?” Cadance asked, still dazed and in shock from her ground-shaking revelation. She put a hoof up to push at the vessels that now throbbed between her eyes. Melodie just kicked her hoof awkwardly, as if not sure how to say an answer.
“Mom, Dad wasn't dumb. When he eventually saw that you weren't getting aged any older, he began to have suspicions. He wasn't the captain of the guard for no reason, you know.” Melodie paused, looking out on the sun-stained horizon. Taking a deep breath, she continued on. “And then he finally went to great Aunt Luna for an answer, she told him the truth- regretfully, I'm sure- and that confirmed it in his mind. And you know, he was okay that you hadn't told him. He eventually figured out why, and, really...” She paused, sending a conciliating look towards her sniffling mother, “I understand why you wouldn't want to tell him, either. It must be so hard, living with the pain of that reality weighing you down.” She stopped again, looked onto her poor mother, and reached out a hoof to calm Cadance.
“But, I can’t help but feel a bit angry at you, Mom,” Melodie admitted after a period of silence, a red blush of hot embarrassment echoing her short words. “He just waited for you to tell him the truth. He told me he would wait as long as it took until you came out and told him. He said,” Melodie stopped, catching her breath. She had realized halfway through that her voice had been rising, her pitch becoming more tense and bitter. “He said you would tell him, Mom. But you never did.” Melodie looked up at her mother, a tiny line of fire ringing her irises, “And it killed him inside. All he wanted was to hear the words out of your mouth. He told me he wouldn't even be mad, you know.”
“I…” Cadance stopped short on a heavy, tear-bated breath. Melody just put up a hoof.
“I just needed to tell you that, Mom. I love you, but you made a mistake. And maybe it’s just for now, but I can’t forgive you for it. I’m sorry.” The last words hung heavy in the air between the mother and daughter.
“Melodie, my love, I—”
“Mom, I need to go. Please. Think about what I said. Think about what you did. Please.” And with that Melodie turned about sharply and strode back towards the door. As she opened it just a crack, she stopped, and then flinched, as if remembering something.
“Dorian and I, our wedding will be in the fifth, that’s eight days from now. I’m really sorry about Dad, Mom. I wish more than anything he could be here with us all to see the day.” Melodie turned her head slowly, and looked back at her mother. Her heart stung at what she saw: an alicorn, a princess shrouded in black, legs splayed out awkwardly as she tried desperately to stand, and with welling tears falling from her eyes and dripping from off the tip of her snout.
Melodie had come out here to… No, she didn’t know what she had come out here to do. To tell her mother the truth, of course, but she had added something unnecessarily. Or had she forgotten something that was the most important?
Or maybe it was nothing at all. Melodie just didn’t have the heart to be out here a second longer as conflicting emotions ripped at every stitch and seam in her aching heart.
“I’m sorry,” Melodie whispered to her sobbing mother, and turned to go back inside. The door shut firmly, cutting out any sound that could be heard on the lone balcony.
