"It is good you came to Saddle Arabia at this time!" The swarthy stallion gazes up, holding a hand to his eyes against the sun. "During the summer it's even hotter. Still," he chuckles, bumping against your shoulder, "it is quite stifling, no?"

The sun hasn't been on your mind, however. All around you is the press and bustle of a city, its ponies crying their wares, conversations drifting from taverns and the loud, excited chattering of haggling. The name of Saddle Arabia's capital city is one that still eludes your pronunciation but that doesn't really matter, either. They were eager to meet the strange new creature and being attached to Shining and Cadance's diplomatic envoy was a suitable means of getting you there.

The quarters you were assigned were, like many of the city's buildings, palatial and left you more than a bit uncomfortable. All that fuss... Still, you couldn't object to the handsome guide you were assigned. Ibrahim had taken great delight in showing you all the city had to offer, from its charming little markets to the meeting places of the rich and powerful. The architecture was beautiful, the ponies energetic and friendly, the food... well, a tad spicier than you might've liked but exotic and tasty all the same.

With your mind so occupied with reminiscing, you never notice how Ibrahim pulls you into a building that somehow cuts out the noise from outside and in through which a cool breeze flows.

"... Is the kind of place I was telling you about!" You've missed the start of what he was saying but he sounds quite excited. "A trip here wouldn't be complete without stopping at one. Besides, I think you needed to get out from that heat."

The stallion leads you through groups of stallions seated around tables to one near a stage. Some sort of performance? Well, they were fond of that and the entertainment was--if a little strange at times--always precisely that - entertaining. Ibrahim calls out to a passing waiter in the language of their people, holding two fingers up. Drinks. Well, after that day in the sun you could certainly use one.

He suddenly bumps against you and you turn, spotting a wide grin splitting his face. "Do not think I have not seen how you were looking at the sailors." You feel heat rushing to your cheeks. Were you really that obvious? "Ahh! Do not fear, my friend! This is a city that caters to many appetites!" He suddenly reaches over and puts and arm around you. "I do not want you to leave, feeling that you cannot truly enjoy yourself."

The waiter returns, placing two tall glasses with a pale brown liquid on the table. It smells alcoholic and slightly sweet and sure enough, after a sip it tastes just like liqueur; nutty, sweet and warming.

Ibrahim begins saying something when music suddenly strikes up. Wind instruments you've seen being played by street musicians and what sounds something like a tar. It's a slow, easy rhythm and curtains in high windows are drawn, cutting out much of the sunlight. From the far end of the stage a figure emerges, twisting and turning smoothly.

You can just about make out what looks like a white coat and a flowing purple-ish silk wrap about their waist. But as you look closer you realise the pony is quite certainly a he. His body is lean and muscular, not excessively so but obviously the product of having taken care of himself. A thick mane shakes from side to side with his movements.

And those movements... He sidles along, swinging his hips, ducking down, curving his body back and forth, twisting his arms about hypnotically. You never notice Ibrahim's grin as he watches you straighten up in your seat, still holding your glass.

The music begins to speed up and the stallion advances along the stage, moving quicker, ducking and weaving to the rhythm. You follow ever sweep of his hips, every twist of his arms, every delicate, calculated movement of his legs.

"You like him, yes?" Ibrahim asks, stirring you from your reverie. "The owner of this establishment is a close friend of the royals; if I were to tell him of the honoured guest visiting, I'm sure he would be pleased to offer you a private show with this dancer."

But while those words sound oh-so enticing, there's something at the back of your mind bothering you. Like an itch you just can't quite scratch, one that grows worse as you keep watching the dancer.

He wears nothing over his chest save straps that hold an insignia in place. One that looks almost like a shield. A purple shield with... a star at its centre...

A chill runs down you as realisation dawns. This is not just any stallion, it's him.

Shining Armour. The very one you'd accompanied on this trip. The one who you spent night after night dreaming of, who occupied seemingly every thought during your days, who was so close but maddeningly out of reach.

A lump forms in your throat as you continue to watch him, his beautiful blue-and-blue mane whipping about. What in the hell is he even doing here? Why is he in the show?

The thoughts war against your admiration of him, of the way those straps frame his gorgeous chest and how the silk covering around his waist looks so beautiful against his coat. His eyes are closed, his lips curled back in a smile, his whole body turned towards moving with the music. It's impossible not to be captivated and even though you long to do more than simply sit there and watch, that's exactly what you do. You watch him spin about, swishing his tail to appreciative mumbling from the other stallions.

He strides over to where you sit with Ibrahim and the stallion bumps against your side but this time you have only eyes for the white stud. He undulates on smoothly moving hips, lowering down and putting his arms over his head and starts shifting his weight back and forth from one hip to the other. You could reach up and touch him, take him in your arms...

Shining stands, turning in time to the music and swishes his tail again, shaking his rump right at you. He reaches around and take his tail in his arm, wrapping it up against his chest. The thin covering of silk doesn't even hide his white coat, his rippling muscles but the movement does send his scent wafting to you; thick, musky and undeniably male.

Still grinning, the stallion opens his eyes and looks down. And sees you.

Realisation flashes across his face and his smile drops. His movements falter just a moment before he closes his eyes again and resumes. As if nothing had happened, the music keeps playing, the other patrons mumble among themselves and Ibrahim is saying something to you. But all you can think of is that look on his face.

"He, ah, says that the stallion who danced for us wishes to see you!" Ibrahim nickers, winking. "He is the most popular here and I've heard it said he is a Prince of Equestria!" His nicker turns to laughter. "Tall tales, eh? You'll find no end of them here!"

The owner of the establishment continues talking animatedly, gesturing for you to follow him and Ibrahim dutifully follows alongside you. He takes you through white halls, to a small, unassuming doorway. The stallion says something, bows and departs and you're left to look at Ibrahim.

"It is not for I to follow you. I wish that I could but he specifically requested to see you." Before you go in, the stallion takes your arm and says in a lowered voice, "perhaps you would not mind speaking well of me? I would like to meet him, you know."

Your mind is far from such thoughts as you push onwards.

The room is opulent, resplendent with silk cushions and plush seats and a wide, undisturbed bed. At one end is a closet and another doorway leading to a balcony through which sunlight streams. At the other end of the room is him, now devoid of the silk wrap. That he still only wears the small pair of purple panties and the wrappings around his chest, steals your breath.

"You wanted to see me?" you practically croak, stepping deeper into the room and closer to him.

Shining Armour doesn't turn around from the desk he's seated at.

"Yeah. I did." You're not sure what to make of his measured tone. He doesn't sound angry but he doesn't exactly sound pleased, either.

"Look... I didn't know you'd be here, okay? Ibrahim--my guide, he just took me in and I--"

"It's alright," Shining sighs, now turning around to face you. There's still a gold ring, inset with gems on his horn and for some strange reason, you can't take your eyes off it. "That's sort of why I wanted to see you."

You keep looking at the ring, at the way the light catches in the faceted jewel at he front of it, at how the contours of the spiral of his horn almost seem to come from out of it.

"I--" Shining stops, "it's not--" He falters again. Sighing, he leans down, resting his arms on his legs and you find yourself face to face with him. "Just... sit down."

There's a large pile of plush cushions just behind you, suitable seating alright, and you settle onto them, now looking up to the stallion.

"I know you're probably confused about all of... this." He sweeps a hand over his body. "But if you'll just gimme a second, I can explain it." He chuckles softly. "Actually, the explanation's probably more ridiculous than you're willing to believe."

"You're not a liar, Shining, I know that." Your throat feels unbearably dry.

He looks up, meeting your gaze evenly and the smile he wears is warm and genuine.

"Right." He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "It's stupid, really. Cadance was going on about how I should embrace the local culture. Find something I'd love to do! This is the city with something for everypony!" He nickers. "And I said yeah, like the kind of entertainment for stallions that you don't get back home." His smile falters. "I mean, it's not like I was suggesting that I wanted to go see one of those seedy shows, y'know? I wouldn't do that to her. It was just a joke."

You shift in your seat, feeling the sudden urge to reach out and hug him.

"But then she..." He trails off as a wry smile tugs at his lips. "She said, hey, why don't you give one of them a try?" His laughter is breathless, his eyes coming shut as he shakes his head. "Like I could even think of going to one, right? But she, I mean dead serious, Cadance says they have shows where the stallions are the ones who perform."

You sit up a little in the cushions, listening more intently. His blue eyes remain on yours.

"She said it'd be a great way to get to know them more personally, to understand their passions; what they love." He snickers. "Okay, she couldn't say that with a straight face but c'mon!" He suddenly sits up, casting his arms wide. "It's Saddle Arabia! The land where anypony can be anything they want! You just need to find the right place for it.

"And..." A light redness rises to his cheeks. "Okay, so maybe I kinda went along with the idea at first because she said she'd maybe learn a thing or two we could try back home. And maybe I enjoyed it."

"Shining," you say, softly.

"It was fun! I mean, you wouldn't believe how fit you have to be to pull off those moves, how much dedication and self-discipline it takes to learn to do it just right." He looks back down at you with that warm smile. "I respect that kind of dedication to something. But." That smile turns positively wicked. "That doesn't explain why you were so interested in it."

You splutter, mind racing to find some excuse. "It was him! My guide! Ibrahim!" Shining just keeps smiling but quirks an eyebrow. "He... He suggested I might like it, alright?" You fidget in the cushions.

"Oh." Is your only response.

For a long moment more the two of you sit in your respective places, silent. Did you say something wrong? Have you offended him? The thought sends a chill down your spine.

"Did you?" He leans forward. "Did you like it?"

You fidget again and look away from him.

It's Shining Armour, Prince of the Crystal Empire and beloved husband of Princess Cadance. The stallion of your every dream; charming, intelligent, devoted, kind... It wasn't fair.

"Hey." With your eyes screwed shut you don't see him getting off his seat or bending down to be on your level. "If you're not sure then I think I have an idea of how to answer that." His warm breath wafts across your face, calling your attention. You open your eyes and see him right there, in front of you. "For such a close friend I think I can organise a private show." He smirks, leaning closer. "Think you'd like that?" Next Chapter: Private show Estimated time remaining: 16 Minutes