Canterlot is not a city with dive bars. For ponies with no one good-looking, important or influential enough to be seen with at a restaurant, there are numerous options for partaking alone: Taverns. Pubs. Hipster bars. Watering holes masquerading as dance clubs, coffee houses and tattoo parlors. Even a night club, one rather popular with the younger crowd.

The Arabian Sea was none of these, yet it was in no way a dive bar. Shining Armor may have thought it reminiscent of the salt licks in the Mild West novels his mother wrote, but Canterlot was a city of class and refinement. There was no way that a business operating in its bounds could be declared 'seedy'. And so he had decided to remain at the Arabian despite feeling painfully out of place there.

Of course, he wasn't in the best frame of mind to properly decide things like which bar was the best to drink his worries away in.

"Buy your next round, friend?"

Sitting alone at a bar, one develops an invisible bubble of solitude. One does not become aware of the existence of this bubble until a unicorn in a top hat sits down within and bursts it. Shining did not appreciate his bubble being broken. He scowled.

"Sorry, I'm not like that."

The stallion tried to convince him it was all a misunderstanding by laughing. His voice matched his outfit: high-class, yet carefree.

"Rule number one of drinking, friend," he said, the laughter still ringing through his words, "never pass up a free drink. I only offered because you're the pony here who most needs it."

Shining blew his mane from his face and analyzed the mirror behind the bar. He decided the free round slid before him was an affront to his cream stout. His beer wasn't lonely, no sir, and it needed a beerfriend like the cube of Arabian Red he'd long since abandoned needed a salt wife.

"What do you know about what I need?"

A hoof rested on his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, but it remained stuck.

"Now, now, my boy, I've been in this great world long enough to know a stallion in need of an ear to bend, and nopony trades out salt for beer unless thoughts weigh heavily upon them. I promise to listen to any and all complaints without judgment."

Shining turned once more to this interloper, this entirely too cheerful pony from whom he wanted nothing but a quick exit. Desperation seeped in around the edges of the other stallion's grin. Surely a pony so well-dressed couldn't be hurting for companionship. What was his deal?

This pony was at least charismatic enough to have ingratiated himself into Shining's bubble without reprisal. Too much time had passed now; his only option was resignation to the presence of an outsider. Shining finished his beer.

"My name is Fancy Pants," the stallion said, and it was all Shining could do not to cover the mirror in cream stout.

"Fancy Pants? The philequipist?" Shining gagged and wiped a hoof across his mouth.

Fancy Pants chuckled. "There are some who've said such about me. I prefer to think of myself as an itinerant associate and confidant of those in need. Some ponies need money. Others, a friend. I daresay you fall into the latter category."

Shining Armor had a solid reputation in his line of work as easygoing but insightful. Many was the young cadet who mistook his Captain's quick smile and languid demeanor as signs of laxity in Guard society. Yet never to this day had one successfully covered up his transgressions when caught shirking. Every fib, every "I don't know", might as well have gone unspoken for all the good it did hoodwinking the Captain. Many was the young cadet who quickly learned there was no wool to be pulled over the eyes of Shining Armor.

Try as he might, though, he could not read anything into this stallion beyond a good-natured desire to help. Even the desperation seemed to have dispersed to the point that he was willing to blame it on the combination of beer, salt and his current state of mind. If Fancy Pants was earnest, then perhaps Shining could be a little more friendly himself.

"And what is your name, my lad?"

"Shining Armor."

Shining got not a little satisfaction out of Fancy Pants having to catch his monocle in his magic.

"My word! Captain of the Royal Guard, here at the Arabian?" He peered closely at Shining. "I am quite honored to make your acquaintance. Bless my soul, you're most unassuming out of uniform, Captain."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Shining said with a light laugh. "And please, call me Shining."

"Only if you call me Fancy."

Even footing, then. Something about the stallion's mien made Shining want to talk to him. Perhaps there was something to the whole itinerant whatever-he'd-said after all.

"Well, Fancy, I could ask you the same question. What's a high-class stallion like yourself doing at a—" not a dive bar— "an establishment like this?"

Fancy look a long draught of his beer, the head clinging to his moustache, sea foam on the rocks.

"Despite being a 'high-class stallion', as you say, I enjoy the simpler things in life. Spending time amongst Canterlot's upper echelons, one becomes detached from the life of the common pony, so I have, over the past few decades, cultivated a desire to remain as grounded as possible in such matters. Aside from giving me an evening's respite from sycophants, taverns such as this—" he swept over the bar with his hoof, as if showing it to Shining for the first time— "maintain an atmosphere stolidly at odds with what Canterlot tries so desperately to assert. It's refreshing, like a mare's kiss." He chuckled. "Albeit a mare most earthy, and not entirely easy on the eyes."

A mare. Shining drained his second glass.

"I suspect by your haunted look, Shining, that mares are what have you troubled." Fancy leaned back on his bar stool, regarding Shining out of the corner of his eye. "Feel no pressure to talk about it if you don't wish to."

"No, I, uh..."

His mouth had spoken before he meant it to. Shining took it as a sign that he really did need to talk to somepony.

"I'm getting married in a week."

"Good heavens, you don't say! Congratulations are in order." Fancy bounced in his seat like a schoolcolt awaiting the recess bell. "Bartender, another round for the future groom!"

The barmare, a tan unicorn who used far too much hair product, smirked and shook her head, setting out two more glasses and filling them.

"Shoot," she drawled, "an' here I was hopin' I could catch his eye."

"My dear," Fancy said with a knowledgeable air, "I am sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but our dear friend Shining here is about to become an honest stallion! Here's to him!"

The barmare merely shook her head as Fancy took a lengthy drink in Shining's honor.

"I hope you'll forgive my sudden enthusiasm," Fancy said, wiping the foam from his moustache, "it simply isn't everyday that one sits beside a stallion both as revered as yourself, and preparing to be wed. Hm, but you must think me ridiculous, carrying on about something which vexes you so. Then tell me: what's tugging at your bit, as they say?"

Shining nibbled the edge of his glass. What indeed? Where could he begin to describe the weighty malaise that had of late tortured him so?

"I don't know how to explain it." It was the simplest and truest answer he could have given.

Fancy threw a leg around Shining's shoulders and leaned in. "Lest you fear I speak from some misplaced but ultimately impotent need to do good at any cost, let me say that I have been where you are, my dear Captain, not once but twice. Alone in a pub, thinking about the mare you're about to marry, having second thoughts—"

"No!" The response was automatic, and Fancy backed off. "It's not her at all, I swear." He blinked a few times to clear his vision and looked to his companion. "It's me."

Fancy merely raised an eyebrow. "Do go on."

When he inhaled, the alcohol and salt in Shining's system took over, so that rather than exhale, he released the breath as a rush of words.

"She's just the most amazing pony, stallion or mare, that I've ever met, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, but it's just such a huge change, you know? And it doesn't matter that we've been dating for literally years, or that we've known each other even longer, or that everyone in my family loves her, it's just like suddenly everything's happening at once, and we're not gonna be just Cadie and Shiny anymore, we're gonna be married, Mrs. and Mr., Princess and Pri—" The word caught in his throat.

Fancy had the sense to let the moment hang in the air rather than jump into a rebuttal.

"I start to understand, I think." He smacked his lips together. "Am I correct in gathering your fiancee to be the Princess Miamore Cadenza?"

Shining nodded, his mouth dry.

"Ah." Fancy gave the bar top a wry smile. "Sadly, I cannot give you any specific advice. Princess Celestia has always kept the Princess of Love rather sheltered from those of my station." His head lifted, and his eyes shone with regret as he stared at nothing in particular. "Likely for the best."

"The Princess of Love..." Shining's head shook as he spoke, and he wondered whether he had started it, and whether he would be able to stop it. "It's so weird, hearing other ponies talk about her. At least you accept that you don't know her."

Fancy nodded, and Shining snorted.

"There're just far too many ponies in this city who think that 'cause she's a princess, she owes them something." He gritted his teeth. "Makes me sick sometimes."

"But that's nothing to do with your current cold hooves, now."

The head shaking became nodding. "Yeah. Nopony knows her like I do, I'd bet on it. But the closer this wedding gets... It's this big political thing. Wait, no." He used his hooves to steady his head, but it didn't stop the room from continuing to nod without his say-so. "Not politics. Spectacle. The Captain of the Royal Guard and Equestria's third alicorn princess, getting married in Canterlot Castle with Princess Celestia officiating. It's not like you can expect ponies to ignore something like that, right?"

Fancy nodded, saying nothing.

"All my life, she's just been Cadence." Shining groaned and closed his eyes. "But the more extravagant and flashy and, and... spectacular this wedding gets, the more it drives it home."

After a pause, Fancy said, "Drives what home?"

Sure, there was a lot on his mind, but there was only one way to answer that question. The five words he'd been trying so desperately to drown with drink and salt rushed up and hit him like a stampeding buffalo.

"She's perfect. And I'm not."

He could hear Fancy composing himself and chose not to look at the other stallion at that moment. He couldn't be sure the expression beneath that moustache would be one he wanted to see.

"And now comes the truth," Fancy said ponderously. He let out a loud breath, like an engine releasing steam at the end of a long journey.

"My boy," said Fancy in a hushed tone, "if you'll permit me a moment to be patronizing, I'd like to impart a little timeless wisdom, learned by a pony who has had many opportunities to learn. No stallion ever lived up to the perfection of a mare."

Shining's ears drooped, but Fancy only smiled at him.

"What you must remember is that she gave her heart to you, my boy. You had no say in the matter. If she says that you are the one for her, then that is all you need to know that the journey upon which you are embarking is the right one."

Shining scratched at the back of his neck for a few moments. "I... I guess that makes sense. But still, when I think about her, I just..."

"Pish tosh!" Fancy sniffed. "Tell me, what is it that makes your Princess so perfect? Is she pretty? Smart?"

"Yes," Shining croaked. "She always knows what to do, what to say. She's gorgeous, she always has been. I could never keep up with my little sister, she's precocious as hay, but Cadence never had trouble." He turned to Fancy. "Cadie used to foalsit for my parents. It's how we met."

"I see, I see." Fancy flipped one side of his moustache. "The one fact that I cannot seem to escape in this conversation is that you've known her for most of, if not your whole life. Am I wrong?"

Shining grunted in the negative.

"Well, in that case, I must ask what's so changed about her since the time you both agreed to marry."

The question swirled through Shining's head like ink drops in water. "What changed about her?" It made no sense. Nothing had changed. It was just...

"Well, something must have!" Fancy slapped the bar top. "Think about it! Once upon a time, you met her, learned her name, likely with your parents as intermediaries. You eventually asked her on a date, I assume, and not the other way round, for in my experience, mares, though the stronger sex, rarely ever make the first move."

Shining once again found himself nodding along, privately amazed at Fancy's insight.

"So you were friends, you became something more, and eventually fell in love." Fancy gave him the smile one gives to a particularly dense student trying his best at simple arithmetic. "Between that point in time and now, something must have changed. Your bride-to-be underwent some transmogrification, a cosmic apotheosis, irreparably turning her from the smart, pretty, fun mare you fell in love with into an untouchable Goddess of Love, forever out of your reach." He slammed his hoof onto the bar hard enough to make the glasses clink.

Shining stared at him, feeling as though he had indeed flunked math this time. "Well, she has been acting kind of... distant over the last couple of weeks. Planning the wedding, it's been really draining on her."

"That isn't what I mean, and you know it." Fancy made an exasperated sound in his throat. "Bah, or else that third round was a mistake. I hope you'll forgive me the oversight. No, 'distant' is hardly 'perfect', but it does get us at last to the solution to your problem."

Shining leaned forward. "Which is?"

Fancy took Shining's face in both his hooves and stared into his eyes. "She is just as nervous as you are, my boy."

Shining blinked. "How do you figure?"

"Planning a wedding is a hectic enough task to make anypony lose their cool. Trust me, I've planned more than one in my time, none of them even my own. No, no, your Princess is not a different pony, and neither are you." He squeezed Shining's cheeks. "All those years you spent getting to know each other and falling in love will still be behind you once you've been wed. Marriage does not change a pony unless the pony lets it change him!

"If you worry that your fiancee is being distant because planning has stressed her to the breaking point, then that is all the reassurance you need to know that you and she are at the same level of perfection. She frets over the wedding, you fret over her. Perfection does not come into the picture! You and she will be the same ponies after your marriage that you were before. The change is all in here."

He released Shining's face and tapped on his forehead, which sent the room spinning once more. This was not helped by Shining nearly faceplanting off his bar stool.

"Easy does it." Fancy lay a steadying hoof to Shining's chest, which helped somewhat. "My point is, she is not as perfect, and neither are you."

"But you said no stallion—"

"Don't interrupt!" Fancy gave him a sly grin. "What I've been trying to tell you, dear Captain, is perfection is in the mind. Perfection, change, it's all your own mind trying to frighten you out of a weighty decision."

That seemed to make sense. "So what do I do?"

"Merely stop worrying. Your wedding will go off without a hitch, if you'll forgive the pun, and once it's over, you will have the rest of your life to spend with a wonderful mare." Fancy leaned back and smiled at him. "Trust me when I say, a marriage won't change you, but it is most definitely worth getting into. If the mare is right."

At that moment, one of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous knockouts of a mare Shining had ever laid eyes on approached Fancy's bar stool and nuzzled into his neck. Fancy chuckled and returned the gesture, not moving from his position.

Shining could not be certain what he was seeing. If she were more than half his age, she would have had to know the greatest cosmetician, not to mention personal training, in all the world to keep a body like that. Her pink mane flowed like a waterfall over a horn that rivalled Celestia's for length. Her pale lavender eyes were huge. Her coat was pristine white. And when she spoke, it was [].

"Are you almost done with your coaching session, dear? It's getting near closing time."

Fancy gave her a smile much removed from any that Shining had seen during the night. "I'll be along in just a moment, dear, if you'd be so kind as to wait outside."

She gave him a light kiss and inclined her head to Shining as she left their company. "Captain."

Shining made no attempt to close his mouth, following her every fluid motion as she trotted out the door.

Beside him, Fancy let out a guffaw. "Having second thoughts about those second thoughts, eh, Shining?" It was the elbow to the ribs that broke Shining from his gaping.

"Sorry." He shook his head rapidly to clear it, regretting the action immediately. "I'm starting to see why you like married life so much."

Fancy looked at him most quizzically, and Shining gave him a similar look back. He only because more confused when Fancy broke out into further laughter.

"Oh, Fleur?" Fancy removed his monocle and polished it against his cravat while wiping at his eyes. "Heavens, no, she's not my wife!"

Shining decided at that moment that he had had too much to drink. It took a considerable amount of effort to formulate the question burning in his mind, but he was cut off by the barmare's shout of, "Last call!"

"Ah, and there's our cue to exit," Fancy said, regret dripping from his voice. He stood and set a large pile of bits next to his glass. "Captain, it has been both a privilege and a pleasure. I only hope that my prattling will bring you some modicum of relief in the days to come. Don't sweat the small stuff, as they say." Replacing his monocle, he started for the door. "I expect the next time I see you, you will be headed down the aisle. Best of luck to you! Until then!"

And with that, he was gone. Shining found himself once more staring at the door with his mouth hanging open. It was likely a good thing that this was the last time he planned to go out drinking in a place like this.

"C'mon, cutie," said the barmare, at his ear, "it's closin' time. Your pretty pal paid for your drinks, so you're all set." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Lessin', o' course, you wanna stick around for a little fun."

The barmare was not, he decided, a bad-looking mare, but her actions steeled his resolve nevertheless.

"No, ma'am. I've got a wedding to prepare for." He smiled and eased himself down from his stool, making sure all four hooves were touching the floor before attempting to move them. "Plus, I've got a lot to think about. Thanks for the drinks!"

"Your loss, honey." She chuckled and waved as he left, lifting the glasses and coins in an aura of green magic.

"Your loss."