Shining Armor tumbled to the ground, grunting as his leg twisted at an odd angle, his jaw slapping against the flagstone audibly. His ears ringing, and his vision blurry, he didn’t even bother to try and return to his hooves. He lay on his side, staring blankly out before him.
“Are you alright, Prince Armor?” came a voice that seemed to echo from worlds away. Shining turned his head towards the origin of the sound and blinked hard. A fuzzy mass of green was all that occupied his vision, but with a few slow rubs of his eyes, Shining saw the form in higher definition.
“Please, Private Agate,” Shining said, struggling to his hooves with a grunt. “While we are in training, you refer to me as your Captain, not your prince.”
The private hung his head for a moment before dipping into a kneel. “Yes, Captain Armor. My apologies, sir.”
“At ease,” Shining grunted, shaking his head. “I’ve been so out of it recently...” He trotted to the side of the sparring court before sitting down on one of the marble benches that surrounded the flagstone-paved rectangle, a hoof massaging his temple.
“May I be so bold as to inquire what’s upsetting you, Captain?” Private Agate asked.
“You may,” Shining said. “It’s just... domestic affairs.”
“Oh.” The crystal pony trotted over towards Shining, light from the open roof of the courtyard sparking through his body. “Is everything alright between the Princess and yourself, Captain?”
“Of course!” Shining said, looking at Agate as if he had just suggested that he should lead a coupe of Canterlot. “Things between Cadance and myself are just fine. Truth be told, though...” he sighed. “You are aware of her delicate condition, of course?”
Private Agate nodded. “There isn’t a member of The Crystal Empire who isn’t holding their breath in excitement for the arrival of the new princess, sir.”
“Well, that’s the issue, I’m afraid,” Shining said. “Do you mind if I confide in you, Agate?”
Agate nearly toppled over at this, smiling in carefree giddiness for a moment before catching The Prince's eye and hastily composing himself. “Wh-Why, of course not, Prince—err, Captain Armor, sir! It’d be an honor! And you needn’t worry about loose lips, either; I swear to Princess Celestia herself I’ll take whatever words you deem fit to tell me to the grave! I’d sooner die than give them up, and should I be interrogated in an effort to reveal them, why, I’ll gladly embrace the cold emptiness that lies beyond rather than give them up—”
Shining held up his hood, chuckling. “At ease, soldier, at ease! While I appreciate the enthusiasm, and would like to keep this quiet, such drastic measures won’t be necessary. Besides... I trust you.”
Private Agate blushed, his cheeks growing opaque with a mossy green coloration. “Y-You do, sir?”
Shining nodded. “I do.” A moment of silence passed between the two, neither exactly sure what to say.
“Do you have children, Private?” Shining asked abruptly, shattering the silence. Agate started, looking at Shining for a moment before stumbling over his words to prepare a response.
“Well, I—I mean, I don’t—No.” Agate swallowed hard. “No, sir, I do not. I only just got married a month ago, and the wife, she thinks it’s best to wait for foals.”
“I see,” Shining said, sighing. “Well, I’ve been fretting over these past months, Private. I love Cadance more than anything in the world, and I couldn’t be happier to be having a foal with her, and yet...” he trailed off, staring blankly across the deserted sparring court at the wall on the other side, where a patch of ivy crept up the sheer surface. “Sometimes I lay in bed beside her at night, wondering if maybe, just maybe... I’m not cut out for this. I mean, I’m no stranger to dangerous situations, but this is something else entirely! They say she’s an alicorn, and raising a regular foal is hard enough! I mean, I just...”
Shining stopped when he noticed the look on Private Agate’s face, which was somewhere between being completely petrified and total and utter shock. “I’m sorry, this is a little much for me as your superior to be dumping on you, isn’t it?”
Agate pursed his lips. “I’m honored that you wish to confide in me, sir, but... perhaps I’m not the most qualified for this?”
Shining sighed. “I suppose you’re right. My apologies, Private Agate.”
Agate bowed his head. “My apologies for not being of too much help, my Prince.”
Shining chuckled, and shook his head slightly. “You know, after all this time, I’m still not used to being treated with absolute reverence by the crystal ponies.”
“We are indebted to you,” Agate said in a strangely mechanical voice, almost as if he were rehearsing lines in a play. “And to the princess, and the great and glorious Spike the almighty, and the elements of harmony, all for delivering us from the shadowed evil of King Sombra.”
“Well, yes, I know,” Shining said, smiling wryly at Agate. “I’m not that oblivious.” He returned to looking at the wall on the far side of the court. “You make a good point though, Private; I’ll need to talk to somepony who has a bit more knowledge in these regards.” He hopped to his hooves, and began to walk across the sparring court, Private Agate tailing fast behind him.
“Shall we resume sparring, Captain?” he asked.
Shining shook his head. “I need to ready things for a small trip, Private Agate. You are dismissed.”
And with that, Shining walked off the sparring court and towards the castle interior.
Princess Twilight Sparkle awoke the next morning to the rays of Celestia’s sun gently warming her face. Stretching her forelegs up, Twilight sat up in bed and yawned, pulling her muzzle into a soft smile once she finished.
“Today is going to be a great day,” she said to herself, hopping from bed and fluttering her wings gently, allowing several kinked feathers to fall back into place. “I can feel it.”
With a confident grin, she opened the door to her bedroom, and a sleeping Shining, previously propped against the door, slid down into the floor at her hooves.
Twilight sighed, her smile melting. “Oh dear.”
Shining snorted, and his eyes fluttered open. “Gnnhh? Oh, hey! Twily!” He hopped to his hooves and slumped against his sister, giving her both a hug and the majority of his weight. “How’s my LSBFF doing?”
“I’m doing great, Shining,” Twilight said, patting him on the back gently. “I’ve got several dozen texts that I’m sorting through with Spike this morning, and then Starlight Glimmer and I are going to translate some of the griffon grimoires that Clover the Clever never got around to doing.” She pulled back from the hug, giving Shining a strained smile. “Don't get me wrong, I always love to see my BBBFF, but... Shining, why in the name of Princess Celestia’s shining sun are you here?”
“I had to come see the smartest pony I knew,” Shining said, ruffling his sister’s mane. “I needed somepony I could trust with something very pressing.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “What is it? Are you alright, Shining? Did something happen to Cadance? Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh...” Twilight dragged her hooves across her cheeks, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she began to hyperventilate.
“Twilight, calm down! Everything—well, most everything—is fine.”
After many reassurances and soothing cups of tea, Shining and Twilight sat down for breakfast in the large dining hall of the crystal palace, being prepared courtesy of Spike the Dragon.
“That's some chandelier,” Shining remarked, gazing up into the roots dangling above his head, the crystal decorations sending all manners of rainbows dancing around the room.
“I suppose you remember it from last time?” Twilight said, clutching her tenth cup of pennyroyal.
“Yes, but I don’t think I appreciated it properly,” Shining said. “It’s quite beautiful.”
“The old roots of Golden Oaks,” Twilight said, sighing softly. “I’ll tell you about it in ludicrous detail sometime. I believe you have some urgent, pressing news to tell me?” she leaned in close, almost to the point where her snout mashed against her brother’s.
“Right,” Shining said, pulling back. “Before you melt down, I want you to know that nopony is hurt, and is in no immediate danger from this.”
Twilight nodded. “Okay...”
Shining inhaled deeply. “Promise not to freak out?”
Twilight nodded. “I promise.”
“Cross your heart, hope to fly—”
“—stick a cupcake in my eye?” Twilight finished, placing her hoof against her eye. “Yes, Shining; now please, I’m not sure if there’s enough tea to keep me going if you’re going to suspend me like this the entire time.”
“Okay,” Shining said, steeling himself. “It’s about Flurry Heart.”
Twilight opened her mouth, but Shining held up his hoof. “Hey! You promised not to freak out!”
Twilight closed her mouth.
“It’s nothing about her, it’s... well, it’s about me,” Shining said. Twilight, who had brought her teacup to her lips to take a calming sip, gently set the half-full mug on her saucer. Shining eyed it, before placing his hoof on the side of the cup. “May I have some? My mouth’s a bit dry.”
“No!” Twilight nearly yelled, and the teacup vanished in a purple blast. It reappeared behind her, toppling to the floor. “I’m sorry Shining, but I have to be very careful. Pennyroyal tea is highly poisonous to regular ponies; alicorns are the only ones with a strong enough physiology to withstand it.” She turned behind her, and with a flicker of her horn, the teacup mended itself, and the rich brown liquid lept back inside. Levitating it to her mouth, she took a quick sip. “It’s a shame, because it’s got such a strong, minty taste, offset by just the perfect edge of bitterness.”
“So I suppose Flurry could be drinking it?” Shining asked.
“Well, I’d wait a few years, but... yes.” Twilight took another sip. “Why? Were you planning on feeding her a ton of pennyroyal tea? Shining, I know you’re new to this, but foals have to feed on their mother’s milk until they’re about—”
Shining waved his hoof before Twilight. “Twilight, please! I know that. I was just... curious.” He chewed his tongue for a moment. “No, that’s not it; I’m... jealous.”
“Jealous?” Twilight repeated, setting her teacup down and cocking an eyebrow. Shining nodded.
“It’s just...” he took a deep breath. “It’s hard to explain, Twilight, it really is. It was weird enough with Cadance and all of her...” he tapped his hoof on the table. “Eccentricities, considering her alicorn status. And I love her for it! I really do. Sometimes it’s hard not to feel...”
“Inferior?” Twilight supplied.
“Twilight!” Shining yelled, causing Spike, who had just been entering with a plate of hay bacon, to fall backwards into the kitchen with a yelp.
“What?” Twilight cringed, shooting Shining an apologetic look. “I’m sorry! From the way you were talking, it sounded like—”
“No, you’re right,” Shining grunted, letting his head fall against his hoof. “And that’s what makes it hurt so much; I love her so much, Twilight, but at the same time it’s hard not to feel like an accessory to her. When she casts spells, mine looks like a spark next to them; when she takes flight, I’m trotting below her on the ground.” He swallowed hard. “When I die, she’ll look the same as she ever did...”
Twilight set a hoof on her brother’s, and Shining curled it upward, clasping her hoof tightly. “Shining...” she began.
“It’s petty,” Shining said bitterly. “I know it is. But it’s so hard to not be in love with her splendor and at the same time feel like you’re nothing at all next to it. And when my own daughter will have the same effect on me...” Shining looked down, and stopped talking. When he looked back up, he saw that Twilight had a very strange expression on her face, one of utter befuddlement.
“Is it too much?” Shining asked. “Am I freaking you out?”
“Well, I’m just not so used to seeing this side of you,” Twilight admitted. “At all. In fact, the last time I remember you being so open with me was when you... uh...” Twilight trailed off, grasping for an example.
“So I haven’t been the most emotionally open stallion there is,” Shining said, frowning. “But I really need your support right now, Twilight! This is really screwing with me.”
“Alright, I’m sorry!” Twilight said. She looked at Shining, and then asked, “You don’t feel like this about me, do you? It’s alright if you do.”
“No,” Shining admitted. “I don’t. I was used to you being the prize child growing up, with magic that surpassed my own before you could even trot in a straight line. While I admit, it unnerves me that you’ll be one of the few who won’t age around me...” he stopped, and looked up into Twilight’s eyes. “My daughter, my wife, and my sister will be frozen in time when I die.”
Twilight turned her head to the side and shook it at Spike, who was trying to creep back into the room, and mouthed not a good time. Spike gave her a thumbs up, and scuttled off back to the kitchen.
“Shining,” Twilight said softly, resting her other hoof on top of his. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “But... this isn’t the time for that. I’m sorry, Twilight. One day, I’ll tell you everything.” He hung his head again, and groaned, using his free hoof to massage his temple.
“I’m not helpless,” he said at last. “But I feel like I am compared to you, and Cadance, and I’m afraid I’m going to feel that way when I’m around Flurry. I’m afraid my own stupid pride is going to get in the way of loving my daughter.”
Twilight gently rubbed Shining’s hoof with her own. “Shining, it’s okay to feel like this.”
He turned to look at her, confusion clear on his face. “It is?”
Twilight nodded. “You’re going to be the first father of a genetic alicorn in thousands of years. And, I’d wager to guess, the first one who wasn’t an alicorn himself. You’ve got a great responsibility to face down, and there’s a lot of baggage that comes with it. But you know what else?”
“What?”
“Alicorns are still ponies, Shining,” Twilight said. “We’re not perfect. We still need guidance, acceptance, love...” She locked eyes with her brother. “Shining, she’s going to need the love of her father more than anything; when I first became an alicorn, it was a completely overwhelming sensation. Despite all the power and prowess I possessed, I wouldn’t have made it through without the help of my friends, the princess, and mom and dad.” She smiled. “And you. I still need help with this, every single day. We’re not gods, Shining; we’re incredibly powerful creatures of mortal design that need to be looked after and taken care of just as much as anypony else.”
“Could I do it?” Shining asked. “I mean, I can barely take care of myself! Sure, I made captain of the guard, and I ended up a prince, but I feel like... maybe I wasn’t responsible for either of those things.” He sighed. “I only got in so good with Celestia because you were her prized student, and that’s why I ended up captain of the guard! And I only became a prince because I married Cadance...”
“Shining.” He felt his head being lifted, and Twilight’s hoof under his chin. “Look at me, Shining.”
Shining looked into his sister’s eyes. Twilight took a deep breath, and began.
“Shining, you’re an amazing stallion. You proved to Princess Celestia that you were capable of being captain of the guard through your dedication to training and your ability to lead. Your own accomplishments are what lead to your success. Just because I happened to put in a good word for you doesn’t take away from all that you did to elevate yourself to the place you are now. You could have easily decided not to do any work, and you would have never risen through the ranks. Your skill and hard work is what you have to thank for your status. And as for Cadance...
“Shining, she loves you. And you love her. Does it matter that you became a Prince because of it? The important thing is, you get to be with the pony you love. If you focus on that, the rest of it melts away. You’re a strong, loving stallion; you’re going to be a perfect father to Flurry Heart. It’s not going to be easy, and that’s all the more reason you should dedicate yourself to her. She needs you so much, Shining. Being an alicorn doesn't make you self-sufficient right off the bat, believe me.”
Shining stared blankly at his sister, mouth slightly agape. Twilight bit her lip, chewing on it nervously. “Shining? Are you okay?”
“That was...” Shining exhaled heavily, his cheeks puffing out. “That was intense. But... but good! Thanks, Twily.” He leaned in, and drew Twilight into a tight hug. Twilight returned it in kind, her wings wrapping around the two of them. After a moment, they broke apart, and were left in stagnant, if not exactly awkward, pause.
“I think you should still talk to somepony else,” Twilight said. “As much as I can tell you, I’m still woefully inexperienced in the area having not had foals myself. Sure, I can detail you everything about alicorn physiology and the behavioral patterns of foals growing up in different environments... but as much as I’m loath to say it, sometimes books just can’t compete with real experience.”
“Real experience, huh?” Shining said. “Like dad?”
“Exactly like dad,” Twilight said. “I’d have a talk with him next, if I were you. It could do wonders for your situation.”
Night Light was roused from his studying of astronomical charts by a quick, sharp rapping on his door. He placed down his magnifying glass and called out, “Honey, I’ll be right there! I’m just plotting a new star cluster, it needs some concentration.” He paused, and then added. “What are you doing home so early? I was sure you said you’d be out until eight.”
“It’s me, dad,” came Shining’s voice from the other side of the door. Night Light blinked, and looked at the door.
“Shining?”
“Yeah.” A moment of silence. “Can I come in?”
“Please, by all means!” Night Light said. “The door’s unlocked.”
With a light click, the door opened up, and Shining entered his father’s study. “Hey, dad.”
“Hello, son!” Night Light said with a wide smile. “What brings you to visit your old stallion?”
“Well...” Shining said, pawing at the floor with a hoof. “It’s... it’s kind of weird, I guess.”
“Oh?” Night Light said, an eyebrow cocked. “Well, Shining, I think it’s important for you to know that you can tell me anything with confidence.”
“Alright. It’s... well, it’s about Cadance. And Flurry Heart.”
“What about them?” Night Light asked.
Shining took a deep breath in, holding his chest with a hoof. Letting out his breath slowly, he turned his gaze away from his father. “I think I’m afraid of them.”
Night Light opened his mouth, and made a small noise as if he were going to speak, but ended up closing his mouth a second later. Seeing this as an opportunity to speak his mind fully, Shining jumped right in.
“I’m scared that I won’t be a good father,” he began. “I’m terrified of it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to help raise an regular foal, let alone one that can fly and use magic at a higher level than me before her first birthday. And—And... I don’t—I can’t—” Shining stopped, clutching his chest as his breathing grew faster and faster, his mane frazzled, a wild look in his wide eyes. Night Light leapt from his chair and trotted over to his son, resting a hoof on his shoulder.
“Easy, Shining, easy...” he said softly, patting him on the back. “Don’t get so worked up. Have a seat.”
Shining shakily walked to the other side of the study and slumped in a large armchair, sinking into the plush cushions to the point where he nearly disappeared completely. With a grunt, he pulled himself upright, and looked at his father with sad eyes.
“I’m sorry, dad,” he muttered. “I’m just... overwhelmed, I guess.”
Night Light nodded sagely. “Of course you are. Every new father is. And we’d have to be fools to ignore the... special circumstance of your daughter.”
“I don’t love her any less,” Shining said. “I still love them both a lot! I just... I’m just scared that I’m not going to be enough for them. That a unicorn can’t be enough for two alicorns.” And that they’ll replace me when I’m gone.
Night Light sighed, and walked over to Shining, standing a few feet from him. “Shining, do you remember when I was younger—much younger—that I was in the military?”
“Of course,” Shining said. “You were a medic. That’s how you met mom, because she was a war photographer.”
“Exactly,” Night Light said. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things in my life, Shining. There’s a lot that’s scared me half to death, and even further. I could name the countless times I had to go into a battle with the orders to save ponies that weren’t even recognizable as such, the amount of times I’ve dodged an arrow, sword, or spell, and you know what?”
“What?”
Night Light smiled a haggard, sad little smile. “The time when I remember being gripped with the most gut-wrenching fear was in the final months leading up to your birth. I was terrified as well, Shining; you think after seeing what I saw, that I wanted to bring somepony I loved into that? I was so concerned that they were going to take me away again, and I’d go down in some foreign land, and I’d leave your mother without a husband, and you without a father; I was terrified of not being able to raise you well, and of raising you too well; I was completely petrified of being a disappointment to you, the washed up medic who fools around with astronomy to stave away boredom while his mother went out and pulled the weight of his family. But you know what, Shining?”
Night Light looked at Shining, who stared back with an entrapped gaze. “You don’t love me any less, do you?”
“N-No.”
Night Light smiled. “There you go. It’s horrible, it’s nerve wracking, and it feels like everything is crashing down on you. But if you love them both as much as you say you do—and I have no doubt that you do—everything will be just fine, Shining.”
Shining continued to stare at his dad for a moment, before he slowly rose from the chair. “Well. That got... real.”
“It helped, I hope?” Night Light asked, smiling at his son.
“Yeah,” Shining said, his mouth dry. “Yeah. I’m... I’m gonna go back to Cadance now. Talk to her.”
“That’s a good idea,” Night Light said with a nod. “Being open in your relationship and being honest about your feelings strengthens it in a way almost no other interaction can.”
“Cadance says that all the time,” Shining confirmed. “And she would know, after all.” He laughed to himself. “Jeez... how did I even end up here?”
“That’s what I asked myself right after your mother accepted my proposal when we were pinned down on Sharpthroat Beach under a crazy amount of arrow storms,” Night Light said. “You’re going to do just fine as a father, Shining. You’re a great son.”
“Thanks dad,” Shining said, trotting to the door. “Tell mom I said hi.”
“Will do,” Night Light said, his gaze falling back on the star charts littering his desk. “Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you...”
“Shining?” Cadance asked, looking up from the book she had perched against her large belly. “Are you alright?”
Shining sighed, looking out the window of their bedroom, the view of the crystal empire at night sprawled out before him. “Yeah,” he said, his voice distant. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
“Shining,” Cadance said, her brow furrowing. “You know, I can tell when you’re lying.”
“I swear, Cadance,” Shining said, “I’m fine.”
Cadance cocked an eyebrow. Shining turned to look at his wife, and quickly turned back to look out at the tapestry of glittering lights. “Okay, so I’m not alright.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Cadance asked. “I’m not trying to presume, but it sounds... serious.”
Shining rested his hooves on the windowsill, and groaned softly, knocking his head against the glass. “It’s just... it’s hard to talk about, Cadance.”
“Well, try,” she said, attempting to sit up straighter before letting out a low grunt, holding her belly with a hoof. “I want to help you, Shining. I hate seeing you all twisted up like this.”
Shining took a deep breath. “I love you so much, Cadance.”
“I love you too,” she said. “Is... is that what this is about?”
“No,” Shining said, turning from the window to face his wife. “I mean... partially. I love you so much. You’re an amazing, beautiful mare, who presides over one of the most important parts of life. You’re strong, beloved leader of our empire, and your compassion is limitless. You’re unimaginably powerful, and you could have picked anypony to be with. Anypony.” He paused, and looked up at her, his face ashen. “Why did you choose me?”
“Simple,” Cadance said, smiling at Shining in her way that never failed to make him feel like he was a teenager again, awkwardly longing for as she played with his little sister. “You’re the one who managed to make the Princess of Love fall in love.”
“How’d I do that?”
“Maybe it was your smile, or your dumb jokes, or the way you never hesitated to spend time with me in the ways I wanted to instead of trying to impress me with some dumb display of strength,” Cadance said, rubbing her belly gently. “Maybe it was the way you held me, or that soft, nerdy side of you that you trusted me to see when you hid from everypony else. Maybe it was all of them combined together, Shining, but... I fell for you. I fell for you hard. And I’ve never once thought I fell for the wrong stallion, because you know what? Everyday, I feel my heart jump a little bit when I see you, or hear your voice.”
Shining blinked, looking at Cadance in complete awe. “R-Really? I honestly do that?”
Cadance smirked. “You say that like you haven’t heard me say it before.”
“Yeah, but I always thought it was just like, typical lovey-dovey stuff.”
Cadance rolled her eyes, but was smiling nonetheless. “You’re a giant dope sometimes, you know?”
Shining’s ears flattened against his head.
“That’s part of your charm, though,” Cadance said. “Come over here, Shiny.” Shining trotted over to the bed, and yelped slightly as Cadance’s magic tugged on the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss. He relaxed after the initial surprise wore off, and he returned the kiss with fervor, resting a hoof on Cadance’s belly next to hers.
“Get some rest, dear,” Cadance said softly once they broke the kiss, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It’ll help clear your mind. Sleep does wonders for the worrying.”
He couldn’t sleep. Shining Armor was pacing the room before Cadance’s bed, muttering to himself quietly as to not wake her.
It felt as though all of his time spent talking with ponies about his anxiety had been a waste. All of the feelings had coalesced into a heavy pendulum, sweeping from side to side in his chest, knocking against his ribs and tearing away at his heart and lungs, making it hard for him to breath, winding him and dizzying the entire world around Shining.
He knelt down and inhaled deeply, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. A damp trickle ran down his cheek, and another, and then another. When he opened his bloodshot eyes, he saw figures standing all around him; his wife, his sister, his daughter... he watched them, static and unwavering, as his body crumbled away, turning to ash and flaking away while the three of them stood as statuesque vigils to his dissolution.
“I can’t!” Shining cried out. “I can’t do it!” He stomped his hoof against the floor, before the trembling mess of a stallion sunk to kiss the cold stone. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t run. I can’t hide. I can’t reverse anything and I can’t do anything but be stuck in this cage, watching as my daughter grows to realize what a pathetic wreck her father is...”
Cadance’s form stirred on the bed, catching the corner of Shining’s eye in the moonlight. Quivering, he took to his hooves, and stumbled over to his wife, resting a hoof on her pink cheek, beautiful and ethereal in the moonlight.
“I love you so much, Cadance,” he murmured. “And I love Flurry Heart too. You deserve...” he trailed off, his head suddenly heavy. “You deserve so much more than a simple unicorn.”
He collapsed backwards, feeling as though his limbs and head had been filled with sand. He was limp, a simple stuffed toy laying inanimate by the bedside, his mind racing as he drained away. Flashes of light and shards of sound assailed him, but he couldn’t make sense of any of it. Tears were flowing down his face freely now, and he simply lay there, sobbing soundlessly. He had been so stupid, so emotional today... all he had done was embarrass himself in front of his family, in addition to spilling his guts to a guard in training he barely knew! What kind of stallion was he supposed to be?
Shining groaned, his head heavy and swimming, completely overwhelmed by the rushing, jolting state of his mind and his actions. He clutched the side of his head, pressing down hard on his temples, before dropping his forelegs to the side and breathing heavily.
Almost all at once, he was jerked from his state by the sound of Cadance’s voice, cutting through the overwhelming mess like a sword swung downward. “Shining?”
He opened his mouth, but no sounds came out. He tried again, this time, a dry croak escaping.
“Y-Yeah?”
“Shining, please, get up,” she said, her voice oddly strained. Shining could not move, even if he wanted to, and he was more than content to lay there on his face, his breathing shallow and his cheeks damp.
“Why?” he asked, shaking slightly.
“You need to get the attendants,” Cadance said, urgency rising in her voice. “My water broke.”
It had all been a blur to him. He couldn’t remember most of what had happened, just fragmented images that went through his mind. He had trotted to the delivery room, which had been converted from the nursery per Cadance’s request to have a home birth. For a while, Shining heard the repeated echo of his wife chiding him on the importance of the connection of growing up in the room you were born into. He only broke from his stupor when Cadance let out an unearthly wail, and Shining found himself besieged by several crystal pony bedside attendants.
He remembered that he was beside Cadance at some point, but he didn’t remember walking over to her. He placed his hoof on hers, and soon, a rather intense pain was shooting up his foreleg. He remembered that all too well—Cadance’s grip was like an iron vice as her body trembled, shaking Shining slightly as well.
She was lain down in a nest of blankets and pillows, on her side. She had been on her back at first, but had moved over into her side. In another moment, she was face down, hips thrust upward. Shining had later been told that the final position was the best position for delivering a foal, and that a mare laying on her back or side experienced more pain and complications during a delivery. He wouldn’t have known; he was barely lucid, standing next to his wife while the pressure on his hoof got worse and worse. Occasionally, he would mumble some sort of praise or encouragement to her, letting her know that she was doing a great job, and that it would be all worth it at the end. Everything was blurry and contorted, and no proper sense of a picture was arising in his mind when he looked at anything. He knew he was looking at something, but he couldn’t tell what any of it was. Just a mass of colors and shapes that lacked any sort of definition in his mind.
And just like that, it was over. Shining was kneeling next to Cadance, who was holding a small teal bundle, the foal wrapped up in blankets to keep her warm. Shining stared at the two of them for a moment, feeling as if he had just walked out of a fever dream, or was emerging from a deep, dark cave into the light for the first time in days. That last one was a particularly odd sensation, given that it was three in the morning and almost completely dark in the room save for a few lanterns flickering.
“Shining,” Cadance said softly, sweat glistening off her forehead as she turned her head to face him. “She wants to see you.”
Shining said nothing, and simply shifting into a sitting position, holding his hooves out. Cadance gently handed him Flurry Heart, and Shining slowly tucked her to his chest. The fragile foal was still obscured by blankets, hiding her from Shining’s sight, so he gently turned her over to get a look at her face.
She looked up at him with wide, icy blue eyes. Her small, innocent look met his distant, blank expression. After a moment of the oddest tension, she broke out into a small smile and giggled softly.
It didn’t melt, the horrible inadequacy, those doubts that hounded him and fed off of his psyche; but in that moment, with his daughter giggling and smiling at him, raising her hoof upward from within the swath of blankets, Shining felt the heavy pendulum in his chest that swung back and forth, tearing his ribs and heart and lungs into a horrible whirlwind of unease go still. He knew it would start up again; he wasn’t sure if it’d ever go away. But looking down at Flurry Heart, in that first moment, he knew one thing for certain.
He would never know if he didn’t at least try. And he would try.
For her.
