There are more awful things than this.
Much, much more awful.
And yet, as much as Twilight wanted to believe it, this felt like the most awful thing that could happen. It felt like a piece of her had been torn away, and she was left shivering in the cold empty nothingness. It felt like the world was falling down around her ears. It felt like--
“Twilight,” Shining Armor said softly.
Twilight bit back a sound of anguish, only to squeak out the meekest “yes?” she had ever heard.
Shining sighed. It wasn’t even a sad sigh, it was like-- it was an exasperated sigh, like he was already so sick of talking about it when he’d only just brought it up.
Of course… he probably had.
It was impatient, too. The way he moved to Twilight’s side and wrapped a leg around her, pulling her in for an awkward side-hug which held very little warmth or love at all. Like he had better things to do.
Of course, he probably did.
Twilight put a hoof to her chest, trying in vain to catch the breath she had lost.
“Look, I know this is hard for you,” Shining said.
Twilight snorted. “Hard? Why-- why should it be hard? It’s not like I-- I mean, I don’t--” She stopped, pressing her hooves to her temples, as if she was trying to keep her brain from spilling out onto the floor. “Th-this has nothing to do with me! I shouldn’t even be upset, it’s-- it’s your decision. You and Cadance.”
Shining snorted. A long, slow sound which warmed the air by his face. “That doesn’t mean it’s not hard,” he said, every edge soft and fuzzy.
Twilight considered that, but simply couldn’t accept it.
She smacked Shining’s hoof away and jumped up off the mattress. “I’m not a little foal anymore, you know!”
Shining was taken aback. “I-I know…”
“Well, then don’t treat me like one!” Twilight spat back. “You and Cadance are… you’re… y’know, you’re--!”
Shining arched an eyebrow. “Getting a divorce?” he suggested.
“Ah!” Twilight winced at the sound of the ‘d’ word, almost as if she’d been physically struck. She shook it off though-- in nearly enough time for Shining not to notice. “Right. That’s a grown-up problem, but I’m a grown-up! I can handle grown-up problems!”
“Grown-ups don’t tend to call themselves ‘grown-ups’, y’know.”
A little smirk played over Shining’s lips.
Twilight wanted nothing more than to smack it right off.
It was one of those things that just didn’t compute. Like her brain simply wasn’t fit to hold this information; it was a puzzle piece from an entirely different puzzle, and it would not click in with the rest no matter what.
No. Actually, it was like Twilight was doing a jigsaw puzzle and Shining Armor was trying to jam a playing card into the empty spot.
“I just--” Twilight paused, took a break, and let it out. Of course, this was the move Cadance had taught her, and it only served to rile her up a little more. “Ugh! I just don’t understand how you and Cadance couldn’t figure this out! She’s the princess of love!”
Shining sighed again, this time like a sympathetic father. “Yeah, and you should know: sometimes these problems don't work out,” he explained softly. “You’re the princess of friendship, and you know that sometimes friends grow apart… right?”
That was an annoying point. Mostly because it was right.
As any sibling knows, there’s only one defense for a good argument:
“This is different!” Twilight shouted back, waving a shaky hoof in the direction of her brother.
Shining Armor rolled his eyes. “Right. How exactly is it different?”
“Friends-- friends don’t get married!” Twilight argued. “They don’t agree to be friends forever! There’s no paperwork, there’s no ceremony, there’s no… no wedding gifts to split up!”
Shining made a face.
Twilight made a face back.
Neither face really meant anything in particular.
Twilight huffed. “Look. It’s okay for friends to grow apart. Spouses, though…” She bit her lip. “It’s different. It just is.”
Shining Armor opened his mouth, poised to speak-- then suddenly closed it.
He sat there, looking at Twilight. Though Twilight liked to brag about how well she knew her brother, she simply couldn’t manage to sort out what was in his eyes.
It was the way he had looked at Twilight when she got her wings. A distant, almost nostalgic sort of sadness that went all the way down to the very core of Shining’s being. A familiar sort of sadness, like the walk home from school, or a favorite book. Almost… comfortable.
Twilight clucked her tongue. “What?” she snapped, though her vitriol was starting to boil off.
Shining smiled. Not a real smile-- a sad, practiced smile that seemed to be carved into the deepest recesses of his soul.
Twilight melted a little. She found herself deflating ever so slightly, even more hot wind taken out of her sails. “What?” she asked again, this time with a touch of sweetness and sympathy.
“I’m trying really hard not to be sad about this,” Shining said softly.
The weight on Twilight’s chest tugged ever lower. She moved back to the bed and sat down beside her brother, the springs creaking under her weight.
Shining looked up at the ceiling, misty tears brimming in her eyes. “Y’know, Cadence is an alicorn,” he said.
Twilight scoffed. “Yeah. I’m aware.”
“And you know that alicorns have certain…” He let out a long breath. It was shaky, like he was trying to keep it even and only just barely managing. “Alicorns have certain life expectancies that others… don’t.”
Twilight stiffened. The playfulness vanished from her voice. “Mm-hm.”
“Cadance doesn’t deserve--” His voice broke, and he struggled to keep himself together.
Twilight didn’t know what to do. She would be lying if she said that this was something she had any experience with; her brother was always the comforter. Always the strong one.
Shining took a steadying breath. He straightened up, looking only at the wall ahead of him. “One day, you’re going to have to make a choice,” he said. “Cadance wouldn’t make it, so… I made it for her.”
Twilight’s breath caught in her throat.
Shining turned to look at her. “And that’s that,” he said simply.
He stood up.
Twilight stood, too, though she didn’t know where she was going.
“Can I ask you a favor?” Shining asked.
“A-anything,” Twilight answered.
“Don’t force your true love to make this choice.”
Shining left the room.
Maybe Twilight was right.
Maybe there weren’t more awful things than this.
