Cadance In A Minor Chapter 7: Like A Prince

There's a lot to be said about waking up after a night of heavy drinking. Usually headache (cephalalgia), lights being too bright (photophobia), sounds being too loud (phonophobia) and a bad taste in your mouth (feliurinum oralus) get a mention. Most of this is just subjective. The fact is; your body is going through detoxification of the alcohol in your body: Your liver is asking if anypony's seen some extra ethanol dehydrogenase enzymes, and the rest of your body is looking for a safe place to dump all the extra acetaldehydes. You are dehydrated, demotivated, desperate, depressed and most of all, determined never to drink again.

Several great minds of our time have had something to say about a hangover. One in particular has nailed in A few words that every person everywhere has thought after waking up after merry a night. "One of the curious effects of a bad hangover is that you think you're wrong whether you are or not. Not wrong in particulars, but wrong in general, wrong about everything."

For Shining Armor, it means waking up on something soft. His eyelids are heavy and his chemically-abused metabolism is voting for another few hours of sleep, but an incessant noise is there to disturb him.

"...there?" the noise says.

"Hurk?"

"How... lie there?"

"Hu... urk?"

Something pokes him painfully in the side, and he forces one of his eyes open.

"Hu... argh!"

"Well, finally! I was about to call the doctor. Maybe I still should. You look really pale, and before you say anything, yes, I can tell the difference."

"C... Cady?"

"Yes, dear. Good morning. Or actually lunch-time. I'm guessing you won't be eating lunch?" Her voice is very chipper and sunny, the complete opposite of the heavy grey clouds outside the window behind her. "Here, drink up. It'll help."

The rim of a glass wriggles its way into Shining Armor's mouth, and some vile concoction enters his mouth and assaults his tender taste buds. He promptly spits it out and coughs in disgust.

"Cady... what the hay was that stuff?"

"It's just water. Stop being a baby and drink up."

This time Shining Armor uses all of his willpower to down his drink, and it washes some of the foul taste in his mouth away, still leaving a considerable aftertaste of feline offal behind. He coughs a few times as some of the drink ends up going down the wrong chute, and he leans to his side in fear of throwing up. He doesn't, but his bleary eyes notice a bucket in front of him on the floor. After the fit goes over, he turns back onto his back on what now understands to be the couch in his and Cadance's apartment.

Cadance...

"I... guess I'm busted?" Shining Armor says.

"Big time," Cadance answers and sits down next to him on the couch. His mane is plastered onto his face, but she strokes it away. As his eyes finally focus, he sees Cadance smiling.

"Why aren't you... you know, all shouty?"

Another smile. "That was last night, dear. I was deep asleep, having a most wonderful dream, when suddenly I wake up because of some awful shouting and crashing from our living room. You cannot imagine how frightened I was when it was dark and all that happened. So I... went to look at what was going on. The two guardsponies had dropped you off on your bed, and then there was this third... guardspony. From what I could make out, he apologised for luring you to drinking under false pretences and that it had been a ploy on his and his friend's behalf."

"He... did?"

"Yes. I told the other two to arrest him and they took him away."

"You... did?"

And after all that, you really tried to take the blame on yourself? I'll bloody murder you after I'm done hugging you, Iron.

"Are you feeling any better, honey?" Cadance asks.

"A bit. I think I'll survive." He tries to sit up a bit, but the vertigo drops him back down and he has to clutch his temples. "Maybe."

A giggle. "I know you're not much of a drinker. A few hard ciders and you're sore in the morning."

"I'm never going to drink again."

"I hope they do something nasty to that guardspony. Luring you off and forcing you drink like that. And here we both thought you'd be just out working." She once again strokes his mane, starting from the top of his head and ending on his cheek. "I know you couldn't say no because you didn't want to hurt their feelings and tried to get out as soon as possible, right?"

Am I seriously going to get away with this without a divorce?

"Y-yeah. I guess."

"You poor thing. Now, it's almost midday, and I have a council meeting soon with the folks from the Crystal Empire." She gets up from the sofa and takes to the air, her wingtips scratching against the walls. She clumsily flies to the bedroom.

Fighting with his worsening headache and the dancing sofa underneath him, Shining Armor sits up, regretting every single thing in his life. He opts to keep his eyes closed for the foreseeable future. He feels them burning, and not only from dryness and irritation.

No... I'm not going to do that. I've... I've lied enough.

"Cady... I'm really sorry about last night. I—"

"I know. Just... don't worry about it. Maybe it was even good for you to go out. I never did understand the point of drinking, but I guess it's alright sometimes." He voice is a bit muffled as it carries from the other room.

"No... I really mean it. I..." The rest of his confession is drowned out as he finally sees the rest of the room.

"Cady... Why is the floor covered in glass?"

"That... would be from when I used the chandelier on one of the guardsponies," her voice answers in an all-too-cheery tone.

"And... the table? Why is it split in—"

"The other guardspony. He dodged the bookcase."

He scans the room, almost not recognising some of the furniture. He shakes his head and bites his lip to make sure this is not some twisted dream.

Ouch. And how could it be a dream? I'm not having weird sex...

"Didn't we have a cabinet?"

"Which one, honey?"

"The one with the plates and the teacups. Near the balcony?"

"On the balcony, dear," the all too chipper voice answers him again.

"Oh."

After Shining Armor finally comes to terms with the full scope of the devastation, he is ready to put his hoof down.

"Cadance? Could you come over here?"

She flies back into the living room, wearing one of her more official vests. Even though she avoids flying whenever possible, the debris on the floor makes it clear it is the only safe way to move in the room.

Cadance sits down next to Shining Armor. He can't help but notice that she is shivering and fidgeting with her fetlocks like a schoolfilly about to be scolded. Before he can say anything, she turns to him with a lowered head.

"I'm sorry, Shiny. I... was really scared because of all the commotion and like I said, it was dark. I... don't like dark." A tear rolls down her pale cheek as she dares a glance at Ground Zero. "I'm sorry."

What? How? What? I want to shout at you, you silly, stupid... CADANCE! Why do you do the tear thing and the quivering lip and... argh!

"Okay..." Anger and worry do a few rounds in his mind, but worry eventually wins with a TKO. "Cady, you're not hurt or anything?"

"No. I'm well." She tries to blink the moisture from her eyes.

"Well... Umm... That's good. You not being hurt is good. Yeah."

What the hay am I blabbering about?

"Have you heard anything about the guardsponies...?"

"I'm so sorry, Shiny!" She flings herself onto the bewildered Prince. "I didn't mean to hurt them, and it was so dark and everything and... Actually I... "

"Honey, take a deep breath. Please. What happened?"

"I... they had to take the guardsponies to the hospital." She takes another gulping breath before continuing. "Five of them."

"Didn't you say there were only two—"

"When they heard the... ruckus, they sent for reinforcements."

What the hay, Cady? You... WHAT THE HAY, CADY?!

"What the hay, Cady!? You beat up FIVE PONIES because of..."

Me. Because of me. Because I left to party and left this psycho alone. My fault.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" she shouts. "It was dark and everything happened so fast! I... I panicked! I feel awful about it, and I wish I could undo it all and I CAN'T! I actually hurt the ponies I'm supposed to protect and take care of! How do you THINK I feel!?"

"But... that's... that's assault! You could be arrested!" He shakes the panicking mare from her shoulders.

"I... the... the boss guardspony that came in told me it was a clear case of self-defence and that there would be no reason to press charges or anything like that."

Shining Armor lets go of his wife and slumps back onto his seat. He covers his eyes with his forehooves and leans into them.

Don't shout. Shouting doesn't solve anything. Don't shout.

"Shiny... honey... I'm so sorry." She drops down next to him, finally able to catch a breath. "I've never hurt another pony. I feel so awful."

Horseapples you have! Maybe I should show you my medical history?

"We... I... I don't think I can handle this thing right now, Cady. I'm feeling pretty sick and I think I should take a shower or something. And you have that meeting and I kinda need to rest." Something else knocks on the walls of his memory like a gentle battering ram. "And I need to go meet Mrs. Swallow today too."

Worst. Day. EVER!

"I'm not sure if you're in any condition to go out today, honey."

"I will be after I take a shower." He looks at the clock on the wall. To his surprise, it is still intact. "It's still a few hours until the session. I'll pull myself together before then."

After a short silence, Cadance's quiet voice reaches his ears. "How... how can you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Why aren't you angry? Why aren't you shouting? You're just going to take a shower and everything's going to be okay? How are you so... "

Good at lying?

"...strong?" she finishes.

He stops at the words, his conscience riding waves of hangover nausea against his mental fortress of iron will that is tempered with his cold-forged anger. The waves break.

"That's just the kind of pony I am, Cady."

She leans in to hug him, but her nose wrinkles as she gets closer. "I... err... think the shower would really be a good idea."

"Yeah. And you need to go wash your face before going to meet anypony else. Your eyes are all red." Shining Armor feels himself standing on the parapets of his cold fortress in the middle of the calm sea. There is no more emotion for him to fight. There is only hard, black metal around him; No emotions can reach him right now.

Cadance washes up in the bathroom and returns to him. She places a hoof onto his cheek, but he only looks up at her. She smiles at him. He feels the edges of his mouth turn up on reflex. But there is no joy behind the expression. No love, no care, no emotion. In his mind, frost covers every surface of his bastion, making everything reflect his own, calm facade back to him, bolstering his confidence.

"I love you, Shiny," she says.

"I love you, Cady," he says.

She leaves the room. He is left there to stare out of the window, before he slowly gets up and walks into the bathroom. He doesn't even bother turning on any lights, just walking into the shower. He turns the water on and sits down on the floor, only distantly feeling the cold water run through his raggled mane and sticky fur. He is still wearing his official uniform, but he doesn't care. Time passes, but only outside the dark bathroom. Inside, there is nothing left but the solitary figure atop his citadel of ice.

Enough

The first cracks run along the walls, and large chunks start falling into the sea. The sea answers by drawing back from the fortress, as if afraid of what will come.

I've had enough

One of the towers falls down, turning into a cascade of frozen metal shards, and lands into the abyss next to the mental construct.

Hate.

A fault line breaks the fortress down the middle, leaving the stallion standing atop the last jaggedy shards. The sea around him senses the weakness, and hurtles towards him as a tidal wave of all the emotions he has been holding inside.

I hate this

The boiling red sea crashes onto the stallion, and he is lost beneath its depths, sinking deeper and deeper.

Destroy our home, will you? Hurt my guardsponies, will you? I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT IT MEANS TO DESTROY!

In the shower, Shining Armor punches the wall. Not hard, but enough for him to locate it. His next strike is more decisive, this time gauging the distance between him and the wall. The next one carries the full force of forehoof. A cracking sound carries through the room. A few chunks fall on the floor from where his hoof cracked the tiles. He gets up. Next is the mirror. He doesn't even stop to look into his expression, because somewhere deep down he knows the visage he would see would stop him dead. His buck cracks the sink, and the second one drops it onto the floor. The door of the bathroom explodes outwards surrounded by the pure white glow of Shining Armor's magic as he steps out.

The room around him is in shambles. Pieces of glass and broken furniture surround him everywhere. It amuses him. The great big grandfather clock that is still ticking seconds away is the first to go. It floats up from its ancient seat and smashes into the wall. The other cabinet, the one that Cadance didn't defenestrate, is next. New cracks appear all along its sides before it explodes into a storm of splinters and glass shards that rain all around the room, embedding themselves into the floor, walls and even the ceiling. The few that dare approach him are turned to ash before even coming close to him. The priceless ornamental vases, the silver candleholders on the walls, even the dresser all collide in mid-air, before being thrust everywhere. The cataclysm is not over. Next follows the bedroom. Everything inside lifts up, enveloped in his magic. As if they were just one single object, the all start slamming into the far wall. Again and again, until all of the furniture is an unrecognisable jumble of timber and cloth clumped into a sad ball.

The only thing to survive this cataclysm is the couch. He turns it upside down and shakes away the debris from earlier before slamming it back down on the floor. One of the ends of the couch breaks from the impact, leaving the rest of couch jutting in a weird angle. Shining Armor doesn't care. He lands on it with his back first, his hind hooves pointing much higher than the rest of his body. And only then he notices that he is hard.

His member is pointing directly up, almost backwards because of his posture. Without thinking, he allows his hooves to stroke it, feeling almost nothing through his anger. But he still begins to move his hooves up and down along his length. Unlike his usual fantasies, this time there are no cute mares shaking their backsides at him, inviting him to play with them. There is only violence and pain, most of it aimed at anypony and everypony he knows.

At first he is at Basic Training, grinding the recruits' faces into the sleety muck that they are crawling through as he yells at them how useless they are.

He wants more: The trainees are replaced by the two crazy maids, and he uses one of them as a hoofstool as the other feeds him grapes. They are clad in tight pleather.

It is not enough and he goes deeper: Little Twily is tied to a bed, begging for mercy as he whips her back with her weird toys. And she likes it

No more inhibitions: Peppy Pickle is moaning from pleasure as he takes her on her desk. He shouts "Does this feel impotent to you?!"

All the way: He sees Chrysalis, beaten and bruised after she was flung out from Canterlot, and he has his way with her by force as she screams for mercy, unable to do anything while caught in his powerful magic.

"FUCK YOU ALL!" he shouts, chaos, violence, pain, superiority, justice, all roiling in his mind until he feels himself come. The jet is not strong, just a few squirts of sticky semen that land onto his hooves and his chest, soiling his ceremonial jacket.

Shining Armor feels like he has expunged all of his rage out of his member, the last remnants still exiting with the final spasms of his orgasm. He feels weak, his hooves falling limp from the adrenaline, and his breath comes in shallow gasps. Blood is running into his head and making him nauseous because of his posture, and he turns to his side, only to fall onto the floor with a thud.

And in front of him stand Broom Sweep and Feather Duster. The two maids aren’t looking at Shining Armor, but at the wreckage, mouths agape.

“Uh, yeah." He clears his throat. "Hi.” They ignore him entirely, and continue to stare.

Their faces are masks of shock and horror, and mini-expressions of anger, disappointment, heartbreak, pain, bewilderment, rage, contempt (as their eyes reach the Prince), despair, resentment, more rage, loss and four emotions only known to rabid cats can be seen on their faces.

Feather Duster is first to speak, her thin frame shaking. She tries to say, “Hey, what's he done here now then?" but her affected Trottingham patter drops away into a strong Liverypool accent, from one of Trottingham’s poorer boroughs. It comes out like, “Eeeeeehhh, wassydunnear now then?!"

"Oh. My Celestia. I can not believe what's been done here." Broom Sweep's posh accent seems to have thickened, as if it had been sent to an exceptional private school to compensate for an average intellect.

There is silence (type 1945: Day after Hiroshima) as they try to work out the cost of the damage, and quickly run out of digits in their mental calculators.

“It’s — it’s friggen’ everything,” says Feather Duster. “Even the friggen’ ceiling’s ruined! Did he go melt those friggen' candlesticks in there?”

“Hwhat has he done to the skirting boards, Feather? Like, how exactly does one ruin skirting boards?”

“Mister Planescape’s gonna go friggen’ spare he is, he’ll have a colic. He spent six months carving out them reliefs and I’d not seen him more chuffed with anything after he’d finished. He’s gonna have a friggen’ fit!”

"Look, ladies, I—"

“Oh my — that is not — oh my Celestia...”

“What? Whassit?”

“The tea table,” she says, pointing a hoof at the debris, “cracked in half.”

Feather Duster sits back on her haunches and covers her face with both forehooves. “Oh friggen’ heck...”

Shining Armor groans, struggling to cope with the hangover, the vertigo, the embarrassment and the maids’ theatrics all at once. “Nngh, just — chill, okay? Look, I’ll get some glue, I’ll fix it—”

“You shut your friggen’ mouth!” screams Feather Duster, red-faced. “You — you poncey-maned charver squaddie — fockmoppet!”

“Oh no, Feather, listen to the young Prince,” says Broom Sweep, her voice dripping acid. “His Royal Highness' going to fix it, he’ll find some glue he says, and he’ll use his keen skills in neoclassical carpentry and glue-eating to piece together a Bolton and Gutestühl masterwork, the very masterwork you’ve been curating for fourteen years and display biannually in the Metropolitan and in Basque’s—”

“And in the Bucephalus when the school tours come through. I’d stand there telling all the bairns about its history and how we preserve Equestria’s past at the palace...” Her tone is forlorn, too sad for even bitterness to creep through.

"Huh?" Shining Armor establishes his high education to the conversation. He is no longer sure if he is talking to two charladies, or two museum curators giving him a history lecture.

“—but don’t worry, Feather, our Prince is going to use the master repairpony skills he acquired mending broken cots in the barracks to fix it,” she spits. “Discord’s armpits, Prince Blueblood hasn’t drunkenly vandalized the palace since his sixteenth birthday, and even he would have never had the unmitigated bloody gall to look us in the eye and claim he would fix everything!”

“Right, right, I get it,” says Shining Armor, “I’m not a high-born Prince like BB who knows how to tread carefully on the sacred grounds of the palace where everything seems to be historical and distinguished and can’t be sullied with mortal hooves." He uses his forehooves to make air-quotes around his words. "How could I live here without touching anything? Look, fine. You’ve made your point. So, feel free to leave.” He bats a bit of broken ceramics towards a larger pile of wreckage. ”I never liked the furnishings in here anyway; it was about time somepony redecorated.”

Both maids are silent again. They no longer look shocked. Their eyes are slits and their teeth are bared. Shining stares right back, unmoved. He can't stop the hairs on the back of his neck from rising up, though.

“Well, he’s right, Broom. This friggen’ room did need redecorating. Like that Vermare painting, one of only six friggen’ paintings that he left to private collections, I mean, it must’ve been a bit naff right? The young Prince obviously wants to replace it with summit’ a bit more tasteful, like a print of Sapphire Shores waggling her rump at the camera, eh.”

“I see hwhat you’re saying, Feather. Take that Saddle Arabian rug, for example. It might have been a gift from their delegation after Princess Celestia helped end the Djelibeybi food shortages, but it offended the Prince’s delicate aesthetic sensibilities so it clearly had to be burned in half. Now that it’s no longer breaking up the lines of the room, he can bring in something more suited to a young stallion his age. Colourful beanbags, perhaps!”

“Aye, and that Qirin tea set that you made tea in since Old Greaves taught you how, pouring the brew over the pot to stop it cracking and preserve that lovely patina, at the crack of dawn every day for more than a decade—”

“And on those late Friday and Saturday nights when young Miss Sparkle worked through her long study sessions...”

“—well sure, and it might have been served at every significant diplomatic meeting in Canterlot since the nine-thirties, but it’s too fiddly for a simple stallion like our Prince. That’s why he crushed it inside a friggen’ antique credenza. Maybe he’ll pinch a teapot from the guard canteen, the sort he used to relax every afternoon after playing a few hours of grab-arse with the latest batch of muppets from Beachhurst.”

“Soldiers are idiots, huh?” says Shining, “That’s funny coming from a middle-aged maid.”

“Don’t try to be a wit, my Prince,” says Broom Sweep condescendingly.

“He’s halfway there,” says Feather Duster. “But hey, we’ve been friggen’ conscripted into His Royal Highness Shining Armor’s impromptu redecoration squad, let’s not faff about here, it’s time to put our thinking caps on! Let’s us figure out how to give our Prince the room he needs. Like, what should we swap for those silver candelabras, gifts from the Cannolo Estate of Roam, that His Highness smelted down into slag?”

“Oh, I should think some lava lamps would suit him rather nicely. Pink, to reflect his studly virility, eh?. Hwhat about that bronze shisha from Grand Vizier Humphrey Cuddles from the Camel Sultanates?”

“Eeeh, we could go down to Hashbury and pick up a big glass bong with a mare’s rump etched on the side. That’s basically the same innit? How ‘bout that Frieda Del Frescoes mural he ripped off the wall?”

“Something useful, like a corkboard instead! The grandfather clock?”

“Swap it for an alarm clock! The neo-Platinanium aesthetic of the room?”

“Red, black and chrome everywhere! The Nai-Tu silk tapestry?”

“A tissue dispenser for wiping up his spooge! The—”

“Okay I’m sorry!” shouts Shining Armor, and immediately regrets it as his headache switches to a twenty-pound hammer. “I’m sorry for trashing my own damn room — look, I’m sorry, I apologise. I’ll never do it again, I swear. But please, please, can you leave me be, just for now?”

Both maids glare at him contemptuously. Without breaking their stare, they lean their heads next to the other's.

“Hwould you like this one, Feather?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love. I’ve waited weeks for this speech of yours, he’s all yours.”

Broom Sweep trots a little closer to him, and clears her throat. “In all honesty, we didn’t think you were that bad when we first met you. You were just a straight-laced military moppet with your head screwed on straight. Maybe a tad grumpy, but you are a stallion after all. Our little Cadie certainly loved you. You seemed a stand-up fellow; nopony in the Guard had a bad word to say about you. Hwhen we asked you about Cadance before the wedding because she was acting unlike herself, and you just brushed us off and forgot about it, well, that was disappointing but understandable. Weddings are stressful after all, and not even the Princesses realised what had really happened. The brains clearly ended to your sister in your family there.

“But then you came back from your honeymoon and the cracks in your mask started to show. We talk to our little Cadie, see, and we hear things around the palace. You’ve been right cold to dear Cadance. You’ve been caught in strange places all over the city and gone flying off the handle at your own ponies when they check you’re all-right. When we check on our little Cadie in the mornings, you snap like a foal who doesn’t want to share his toys and try to isolate her. You’ve started — disappearing. Hiding. Heading off into some beaten-down area of the city without telling a single soul, until our Cadie is in such a state that your own Guard have to be sent out to find you.

“That alone is... worrying, and then what do you do? You lie to your wife’s face for no reason, get absolutely blotto with a bunch of soldiers and blunder back in at some un-Celestial hour with bruises all over and sick down your dress uniform. And then — and then — just now, we see Cadance walking down the hall with her eyes all red, having left her drunken idiot husband to stew in their room, obviously after telling him off for being a dishonest, overindulgent git.”

She is now standing over the Prince who has been backed into the couch, and he has almost slid onto his back on the floor before the unleashed storm that is the berserker-maid.

“We come in the room, to clean up and order you some brunch and a Bloody Mary to get you fixed up, and what have you done? You’ve destroyed the suite and everything in it out of petty spite. The room your wife has lived in since her teens. You wrecked priceless items that the palace staff, myself and Feather Duster included, have spent our entire careers taking care of. You’ve ruined things I had not thought ruinable, ruined your dress uniform, you’ve probably ruined the bathroom too and to top it off you sat on the ruin and masturbated, screaming profanities!

“You are the worst sort, Prince Shining Armor,” she spits, almost hitting him, “A vicious, bullying, humourless coward who isn’t even fit to lick Princess Cadance’s fetlock trimmings. Even at his worst and most self-absorbed, our Blueblood is a sweet little angel next to you. Honestly, you act like the brooding, sulking and lashing out would hide your obvious impotence rather than—”

“How the fuck do you know about that? Tell me who fucking told you! I DEMAND to know!” screams Shining Armor, inches away from Broom Sweep’s chubby countenance. He clambers up from his defensive position, ignoring the room turning sideways around him.

Feather Duster’s expression twists, hateful and vindictive, but her words come out like a serpent's venom. “Everypony. Knows. Your Royal Highness. Everypony.”

She and Broom Sweep walk to the door, turn to face him and curtsy. “Good day, Your Highness,” says Broom Sweep.

They turn again and walk out, leaving Shining Armor alone once more. A few seconds later, the remains of the couch crash into the door.

"I want them out! Gone! Immediately! No terms of notice, no severance, no nothing! Get them out of my life before I arrest them for... for something!"

The Seneschal of the castle, Major Domo, looks at the frenzying Prince with indifference. He brushes a few specks of spittle from his moustache, before picking up a pen.

"You want to terminate the employment of your two maids?" He double-checks.

"Yes!" Shining Armor shouts and slams his hoof on the stallion's desk. He has almost climbed on top of it in his fury.

Major Domo just shrugs. "Whatever you say. You're the Prince."

"Yes..." Shining Armor backs down from the table, and a crooked grin appears on his face. "I am the Prince."

He leaves the room and slams the door shut behind him with his magic. The wind from the impact sends piles of paper flying around the office. The Seneschal's secretary finally dares to peek her head from her cover behind two heavy steel filing cabinets.

"What was that all about?" she asks.

Major Domo just shrugs once more. "Nopony never tells me nuffin'."

Shining Armor lifts his hooves up on the back of the seat in front of him. He hears the taxi driver harrumph about it, but he pays him no heed. The Prince, for he is truly the Prince now, and not just some slack-jawed soldier-made-supplicant, reclines onto his forehooves and looks at the clear blue autumn sky.

Such a nice day, too. Wish it was warmer. Could go surfing like back in the day. Cady doesn't surf either, so there's a profit there too.

His mental audioscape conjures up some beach rock tunes that can only be classified as "tubular". The rapid electronic tremolo picks have him nodding his head as he imagines grinding a tidal wave a mile high to reflect his mood; it is not the crushing red tide of rage, but the clear-blue of self-entitlement and righteousness. His forehooves leave the back of his neck as he starts air-guitaring.

"We're here, Your Highness."

He misses a chord, and the mental vista of a gnarly beach is replaced by a drabby grey street lined with likewise drabby grey buildings.

"I am a Prince, which means you shall address me as Your ROYAL Highness." Shining Armor barks as he jumps off the wagon. He makes sure to land on the cobblestones with a cool crouching pose. "Bill the castle."

"Then I need your sig—"

His words are interrupted as Shining Armor slams the door to the clinic shut behind him. Without waiting for the receptionist to disrespect him once more, he boldly walks through Sassy Swallow's door.

"Good day, Mister Armor," the therapist says from her seat behind her table. Her voice is matter-of-fact, not carrying any of the motherly undertones of last time.

"Yeah. It is." He walks to the recliner, looks at it, and just shakes his head. "Not today." His magic surrounds the chair as he swiftly whisks it to the other side of the room and pulls the couch to its place, and sits down. "Much better. Always did prefer couches."

Sassy Swallow doesn't say anything, only looks at him expectantly. Shining Armor stares back. They stay motionless for a long time, but then he blinks and looks away. He tries to cover his loss by turning to lie on his back and even lifts his hind hooves on the hoofrest.

"So, yeah. Today's a really good day. I went drinking yesterday and had a blast, and today I fired two annoying maids that have been bugging me for a month now."

"Would you like to tell me more about these maids?"

"Nope. I didn't like them, so I fired them. I am the Prince you know." He lifts his hind legs onto the couch and crosses them.

"I see."

Another silence. Shining Armor allows his head to loll lazily to the side to glance at the mare.

"Are you really getting paid for sitting there and not saying anything? Hah! Best job in the world!" Shining Armor says. "You just pretend to listen and probably draw stick figures into your papers."

"If you are having such a nice day today, then why are you so angry?"

"Hah! I'm not angry! I'm seriously feeling damn good! I should have done it long ago, but Cadance seemed to like them so I kept them around. But no more. They've messed with me for the last time! And that's about all I want to say about it."

"It would help if you would elaborate—"

"What the hay is it with all of you mares never letting go of a subject!?" He slams his hoof onto the couch for emphasis.

"We don't have to talk about it. You decide our topic. I just want to understand your situation better, nothing more, nothing less."

"I..." He turns to his side to see Sassy Swallow better before he shouts her back into her place. She is still completely calm, and even when he looks into her eyes, he sees no wish for a conflict or disapproval. He crumples onto his back, and some of his gusto escapes him.

"They've been really nasty to me. Ever since I first met them. I think it was one morning when I woke up together with Cadance in her apartment, and they came in. Cadance was all red because we hadn't really gone public with our relationship yet. They were pretty nice back then, but they started making these little... hints. And they did it in a way that I couldn't even understand half the time. They have these weird accents, right? But they were kinda okay I guess, but then we got married and moved together, and I started seeing them almost every morning. At least if we slept in for even a bit. And then it really started. I don't know how they knew, but every time they came in, they would start making comments about my... err... virility. And I'd ask them to leave, but Cadance just thought they were being funny. And in the beginning they were. They'd say silly stuff about me and Cadance looking good in the morning, even if a little tired, and we'd both blush and they'd giggle and go on about their business."

For some reason, every word he says makes the wave feel lower and the beach rockier.

"But it... it got worse. A lot worse. Sometimes they'd go on for almost a quarter of an hour, like it was some rehearsed comedy act for them. And always the same things, sex, sex, sex. Maids aren't supposed to act like that, are they? Teasing and ribbing royalty about how they have sex? I mean, who did they think they are? And today they... they came in and surprised me. And then they really went all out, and I was... okay I was pretty mad about stuff from last night and I started shouting at them and they started shouting at me and... I got them fired.

"Do you think they knew about your troubles in bed?"

"I... I didn't think they did, but today they said they knew. That everypony knew. I don't know for how long, but they've been doing it on purpose and trying to put me down. I understood it today. I could keep up with their stuff earlier, but today they... They acted like they were Cadance's nosy aunts and not just... cleaning staff. So I had to put them back into their place. I'm the Prince."

"What would you say was the biggest reason for you to get angry with them?"

"Hah. That's easy: They acted like they were almost royalty themselves. They didn't have any respect, for privacy or otherwise."

"You felt that this was inappropriate?

"Well, yeah. Of course."

"Do you think that might have been accentuated by your military background?"

"It's not like that!" he shouts in frustration at the ceiling. "In the military we need a strict command chain to work under serious pressure, and that's why we are so strict about rank. It's not the same with... civilians. Even if we say some coarse stuff to each other in the service, it's always in good fun and helps us bond. We're not really trying to be insulting like the two were. And you don't go calling someone... impotent if you know they really are! You just don't!"

"So you terminated their employment."

"Yup. And I've never felt better!" To accentuate his declaration, he lifts his chin and scratches it like he imagines a great political conniver would.

"Would you like to tell me more about your morning? You mentioned there had been some issues?"

"I'm not even sure what happened. I came home last night... and I'd had a bit to drink so I don't really remember what happened. But today when I woke up, Cadance had apparently beaten up several guards in the middle of the night. And she also trashed the place while doing so."

"Trashed?"

"Broke furniture, dishes, stuff like that."

"How did that make you feel."

"I don't really even know. At first I was... I don't know. Disappointed? Something like that. It wasn't like Cadance! She's never hurt anypony! And now she went all... psycho on the guards."

"How did you expect her to act when you returned?"

"I never even... I don't know. Maybe she would've been angry and scolded me like an obsessed mother or something. That's more like Cady's style. Try to make me feel guilty that I had fun without her."

"Instead she acted very violently. Why do you think she did that?"

"She..." Memories of last evening start coming back to him, and for a moment he feels that the couch is falling from underneath him. A wave of emotion catches him once again, but instead of his royal high, there is only a cold realisation. "She's had... nightmares. And she's been afraid of being alone because of... Why didn't I..."

"Mister Armor?"

"The caves!"

"The—"

Shining Armor shoots up from the couch and sits on the edge. "She was trapped in the crystal mines under Canterlot before our wedding and couldn't get out without help. I don't know for how long. She... we never talked about it. I thought she wanted to forget. And she's afraid of the... Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't I... But that's what she said to me last night. That she'd been having nightmares ever since the wedding and hated being alone! I'm not even sure if she was asleep when I... when they brought me in. And if she saw ponies carrying me and thought I was being foalnapped. She must have been so scared... I thought she was overreacting or going crazy... but she was so sca... she even SAID she was scared and I didn't... I..." He stops to gasp for air as the words don't come when they should. "I'm so stupid. Maybe those two were right..."

Shining Armor doesn't seem able to continue. "So what happened this morning?" the therapist asks.

He finds his mouth dry from the horror. There is no wave to ride any more, only a veil that is slowly being torn from his mind that he didn't know he'd put up. "I got angry at Cady because she had wrecked the apartment. I didn't yell at her or anything, I just... it felt weird. Like I got so cold that I didn't even care anymore... And after she left I got REALLY angry, like I've never been before. I kinda trashed the place some more and... err... I don't want to say."

"It would help if you did." It might be his imagination, but Shining Armor almost hears a tinge of warmth in her voice.

"I... I jerked off while thinking about some really nasty stuff, and the maids caught me doing it."

"Is this when you had the argument and decided to terminate their employment?"

"Yeah..."

"Does this raise new thoughts in light of what you said earlier?"

He sits back on the couch and closes his burning eyes. "I fired two ponies because I was angry at Cadance and took it out on them? But they were so nasty!"

"You told me you were in a mental turmoil at the time. Is it possible you overreacted?"

"I guess. But ever since then I've been acting like... like an asshole. I don't know what happened..." he waves his forehoof in the air to wipe away his words. "Of course I do. I'm just lying again, aren't I? I became an asshole because I didn't know what else to do anymore. I didn't act like a Prince would, that's for sure."

"I'm happy to see you more like your own self again. I was pretty worried about the mood you were in as you entered."

Shining Armor looks up at the smiling therapist. "You were? But didn't you tell me you were here just to help me think and were impartial?"

"Should that mean I didn't have to care for my patients? How I work doesn't affect how I feel... How could I do this kind of work if I didn't?" The smile on her face shows a pair of dimples on her face, but they vanish into nothingness as she resumes her professional role. "I am happy to see you have calmed down and can be honest with yourself again. How are you feeling right now?"

"You really need to ask that?"

"It is important for you to acknowledge your feelings instead of just allowing them to control you. That is the only way you can think rationally through this challenge we need to face."

"I feel like shit." Admitting the fact releases some of the pressure from his chest, and he catches a long breath for what seems to him like the whole day. "I'm not like this. I don't snap at people or throw stuff. Actually even looking back at this morning, I hate myself for it. I acted like a stupid foal. Heh... hehe... just like I imagine what Blueblood was like as a teenager. Maybe worse."

"So now you are back to your own self again?"

"Pretty much. Hay, maybe even more than usual."

"What makes you say that?"

A slight headache is tickling at Shining Armor's temples, but he brushes it away. "Because for the first time in a long while, I have something that I can fix. I'll tell the Seneschal to cancel the maid's termination and... maybe apologise to them? They acted out of line, but... maybe I should actually talk to them and not just be a... 'Prince'. And I don't think they knew most of the... SOME of the destruction was done by Cady. At least talk to them. Hay, if that's what it means to act like a Prince, I think I'll stay a Capt... Commander."

"Have you thought about just staying yourself?"

He looks at the therapist like she had slammed him in the face with an ice-cold shovel. A sliver of drool almost escapes the side of his mouth before he catches it.

"Be... myself? What... Are you saying I'm not being myself?"

"You keep referring to yourself as 'The Commander', "The Captain" or 'The Prince'."

"But that's what I am. I am the Prince and I am... all of them." He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs from the gears and cogs inside. "I'm not actually any, right? Or just only one of them. I've been thinking like they're some coats I just have to put on wherever I go. Everypony always expects me to be something. But... That's not really me. Even Cadance always tells me how she thinks I'm become a good Prince, and I hate it, because... because I've always thought she wants me to be something I'm not. I just wanted to be the bossy Captain of the watch who has this cool girlfriend and... a cool sister too." A blush rises to his cheeks, and he looks away.

"Mister Armor?"

"Uhm... there's something I got to tell you. And it's pretty nasty."

"No, you do not. You do not have to tell me anything you don't want to. But you can tell me everything you do."

"I want to. Because I kinda... It's about my sister."

He recounts the events that took place after his previous therapy session, starting from the moment he met Twilight at the erotica store, and ending with him leaving the train station toilet. Most of the time the words fail him, and he involuntarily gags several times as he has to describe how he felt like. Whenever he is about to run out of steam or dare not say more, the therapist always urges him on, asking how he felt and why he did what he did.

"I... thought about having sex with my little sister. And today... I thought about it again. How sick is that?" Shining Armor asks after he has finished. His face is streaked with long lines of tears which he stopped trying to cover up after a while. Little Prince also made a short appearance in the story, but went away when it became clear there would be no gravy on the table.

"What you are describing might feel uncomfortable to you, but remember that all those thoughts and images are only inside your own imagination, and that you have not acted upon them."

"I clopped off in a toilet!"

"Quite common, if I know stallions — especially teenage ones. I meant that you have not made any real advances towards your little sister—"

"EWW! I'd never do something like... that."

"And there is your answer. You have drawn a very clear line between fantasy and reality. What happened might also be considered inevitable, with all the thoughts of that day concerning sexuality."

"So... because I talked to Twily about sex, I wanted to make... urhg. Do it with her?"

"In a word: yes. You told me yourself that you thought of her as a mare for the first time, and not just a little sister. That coupled with the other strong emotions and thoughts you'd gone through that day all added up to the end result."

"And I'd never touch Twily like that. Hay... I don't think I'll ever even hug her after this."

"Why?"

"Because I'd... I'd feel dirty."

"Because you love your sister, and wish to show your affection? Once again, there is a very clear distinction between fantasy and reality."

"But... I still thought of her today. While masturbating."

"That is something I wanted to talk more about with you. Did you think solely of her?"

"N-no. There were... several other ponies in there. In the... I can't remember all of them," a heavy bead of sweat rolls down his neck, and he looks away. "But there was the... Changeling Queen."

"What did you do with her?"

"Something really bad."

"Fantasy and reality, Mister Armor."

"I raped her. I raped the... thing that did the same to me. I—" His words are cut off by the onset of several deep gags, enough for him to jump from the couch and double up over a paper basket next to Sassy Swallow's table. When the revulsion recedes, he finds himself unable to get up, and instead just turns his back on the table and sits on the floor, panting. He grabs the paper basket under his forehoof for security.

"Have you noticed a recurring theme in your fantasies?" Once again Shining Armor is surprised by the calmness of the therapist's voice. He just about emptied his stomach a foot away from her, and she didn't even twitch.

"A recurring... like how I want to... have sex with my sister and the Queen?"

"And other ponies as well. Do you think there might be a connection?"

"I... well... they're all mares? I'm not into stallions if that's what you mean."

"Mares. What kind?"

"I don't like most of them, but then there was Twily. Urk. And, well... most of them are... all of them are smaller than me. Except for the Queen."

"So most of them were smaller, or should we say, weaker?"

"Yeah. And... I kinda put them down. Like, I was in control, and made them do stuff my way..." A familiar tingling is growing between his legs, and he just sighs in defeat.

"Have you noticed somepony missing from your fantasies?"

"Like... Cadance? You know, my wife? Heh. Isn't that why I'm here?" He looks between his legs and finds himself chuckling at the worst joke in the world, all by himself. "Wonder why I'm even getting hard when she's mentioned. That hasn't happened in a while."

"Humour is a good way to think things through, but could you return to your fantasies again. What else is there that makes you excited, but isn't there with your wife?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. I like smaller mares that I can do from behind or put down and have my way with, and be in control..." He slams his head on the side of the desk. "Control. Cadance always wants to be in control in bed. She's the one asking me to do stuff, tell me what to do, and when. She's the one always talking about foals, climbing onto my lap and pulling me into the shower with her. And... it's the same everywhere else with her. She's always telling me what to do, always creeping around, always clinging on, never giving me a moment's rest. I mean, sometimes she feels more like my mother than... You can't be serious?"

"Do continue."

"I can't have sex with Cadance, because I think she's my mother? I... I don't really see that happening."

"Are you maybe giving your wife some properties that you might also connect with your mother for some other reason?"

"Well, she is bossy, and I'm... well compared to the mares I think about, I'm stronger, but with Cadance, she is way stronger than me. And her magic's on a completely different level. Hay, she can't even fly straight, but at least she has wings. And she's read so much stuff and knows all this etiquette and heraldry and stuff. She's always telling me what to do, and where to go, how to act, and never disagree with her."

"You don't like it?"

"Hay, no! It's just like how it was with the Queen..."

The room falls into silence as Shining Armor's mouth keeps moving and forming words, but his mind has raced far beyond verbal communication.

She raped me

No free will

No control

Weaker. I'm weaker.

Cadance is... I'm...

"I'm afraid of Cadance." He finally mutters, before falling down onto his side on the floor. "I'm afraid of my wife because she's so big and she hurts me and I can't do anything without her permission and she's..." He can't even bring himself to cry. His lower jaw cramps up and makes his teeth clatter together, and there is a small metallic taste in his mouth, which he distantly understands to be blood. His words come out in a slurred, vibrating mess. "I'm afraid of Cadance! So afraid that I can't even love her!" His stomach turns from the revulsion he feels, towards his wife and towards himself for being a coward, for being weak, for being useless.

"Close your eyes, Mister Armor. Concentrate on breathing. Just like last time. In through the nose, out through the mouth. We can get through this again. Just like last time. It will pass. It always does."

Sassy Swallow's voice is the tiny branch that Shining Armor can grasp as he is about to be swept away in the torrent of panic. He grabs on for dear life, and is pulled to the shore. Wet from his own sweat, coughing and shivering from cold, but still intact.

"T-thanks. I kinda... I almost lost it there. I didn't mean to..." He loses the words behind his clattering teeth.

"You are going to be fine, Mister Armor. If anything, you have found the reason for your problem. I know it was not easy for you, but you have once again taken a great step forward."

"Thank you. I... Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now... unfortunately we are overtime as is, and I have to prepare for my next patient." She walks out the door, but soon returns. "My daughter has left for the day. I was going to ask her to write you a short term sedative to help you for a few days. I'll be sure to send them to you tomorrow. The nurse will take you to her room, so you can regain your composure. Can you walk to the next room with me?"

"I guess." Shining Armor has lost his legs, but the four he has borrowed from someone else seem to keep him upright. At least for the few feet that take him to the dimly lit clinic room in which he met Doctor Pickle. He slouches in one of the chairs, and closes his eyes.

"You can rest as long as you need, Mister Armor. I'll have the nurse call a taxi to wait for you so you don't have to walk. Leave when you feel like it, and I will see you next time."

"Thank you, Mrs. Swallow."

As the door closes behind the therapist, Shining Armor is left alone in the dark.

"Thank you."

The Seneschal's secretary dives on top of the massive piles of paper she has on her desk. It took her most of the afternoon to get them sorted out after the Prince's previous visit. Now that he returns, she desperately tries to avoid doing the chore again in one day.

Shining Armor doesn't enter like the flame-throwing hurricane that he was last time. Instead, he saunters inside, not even closing the door behind him. With a grimace, he notices the glass on the door to have shattered, evidently from his earlier visit. It has been covered up with a paper and some sticky-tape.

"Umm... yes. Major Domo, right?"

"Yes? You 'ere to fire someone else?" the Seneschal asks in his slightly nasal voice.

"No! I mean... no. That would be no. Definitely. Actually... would you... is it possible to... " He stops to formulate a complete sentence. "Have the maids been fired yet?"

"Nope."

"Could you maybe canc... What?!" the Prince charges to the table and shakes the Seneschal by his vest. "But didn't I tell you to fire them?"

"Aye. But the order couldn't be processed."

"What? Are you telling me someone else stopped it?"

Ignoring the muscular stallion picking him halfway out of his chair, Major Domo picks up a notepad and reads it.

"Says 'ere they've got a 'pro-tective junction' on their contracts. As in 'can't be terminated without the permission of the pony who 'ired them.'"

"Well then who hired them?"

"I did," Princess Cadance's ice-cold voice carries from the door. "Shining Armor, we need to talk. Now."

Author's Notes:

So, thanks for this chapter go to:
-Chuck Finley for co-writing a difficult scene with me. He is here to show us what real comedy is like.
-Kopa for editing.
-Tinandel for his valuable opinions.
-Deeman45 / The big d-bowski / D45 / deadmau45 / Dee Forty Five / Nineteen-ninedyfour for being a whiny tit.<3
-ED Schizo Light energy drink.