Part 1
Even in the darkest, coldest nights of winter, a soul can find warmth, if they look.
Warmth, in this instance, was inside of a large, bright red building, enveloping a handful of tiny figures. They hustled and bustled about, busying themselves with tasks that were every bit as hectic as they were important.
One figure might bundle several brooms inside a closet and lock it up, only for the next to unlock the closet to fetch one. Hoofprints were trod, then washed, then trod again. Ledgers filled with hastily scrawled notes were squeezed into clearly labled drawers, although they did not necessarily match the labels.
In spite of the madcap nature, their overseer could not fault them. It was, after all, the spirit of Hearthswarming. That was important. They were supposed to be excited; it was their job. She laughed, and clapped her hooves.
“Alright, everypony!” Miss Cheerilee said. The cleanup was finished—mostly—and the beaming foals lined up in front of her. “Thank you all very much for attending the last School Council meeting of the year!” She smiled, patting each of their heads. “You’ve all done a wonderful job this year, and it sounds like you have some great plans for next year, too! To thank you all for your responsibility and help, I’ve got you all a special treat.”
She reached into her desk and drew out a box of candy canes, one for each of the foals. The gift, judging by the whooping and cheering, was well received.
“Now, don’t eat them right away,” Cheerliee said as she handed them out. “I’m sure most of you have dinners waiting for you back home. And I’m sure you’re looking forward to it, so I won’t keep you.” She pantomimed a shiver and added, “And it’s not getting any warmer out there, either. If anypony needs some help getting home, grab your things and wait by my desk, please.”
The foals all did as they were asked, and moved as a pony to Cheerliee’s desk—except for one.
“Pip?” Cheerilee asked. “Do you need any help getting home?”
“Oh, no thanks Miss Cheerilee,” Pip replied and he tucked on his cap. “I live just down the way. An’ I like walkin’ anyways. Papa says it’s good for the bones!”
Cheerilee cocked an eyebrow at that, but laughed. “Well, if you’re sure, dear,” she said. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Pip! Say hello to your Papa for me!”
“I will!” Pip said. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Miss Cheerilee! Happy Hearth’s Warming, everpony!” He shared a wave with his fellow council members, and went out into the night.
Pip had lived in Equestria for almost two years now, and he had gotten used to a lot of things. He had gotten used to the funny way everypony talked, and their strange food. He had even gotten used to their odd traditions. One thing he was certain he would never get used to, however, was the cold.
It hit him like a wall the moment he stepped outside, cutting through his scarf and chilling him to the bone. He shivered, and laughed. He had never doubted his Papa’s wisdom on the cold.
That night was particularly frigid. It was strangely still, as though the world itself were frozen. Anypony who lived nearby had long since retreated into their homes, and even the wind was quiet. All that was left was the crunch of snow beneath Pip’s hooves, and the faint whisper of stillness.
Pip let his eyes drift upward. Even the starts seemed more beautiful, on a night like there. The air was clear, revealing an infinity of inky blue and twinkling silver. Idly, he wondered if Princess Luna was proud. She ought to have been.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. No, Pip could never get used to nights like this. He loved them far too much for that.
As he soaked it in, though, he realized that something wasn’t quite right. There was something else. It was faint, subtle, more the idea of a sound than a sound itself. Pip frowned, and listened closer.
There was a soft creaking, low and steady. It seemed to be coming from around the schoolhouse.
Pip looked over his shoulder. Miss Cheerilee was leading the pack of foals in the other direction. He slowed, then paused. The sound was definitely coming from behind the schoolhouse.
He lingered for a moment, shifting from hoof to hoof. He had promised his Papa that he would come straight home after the meeting. Then again, he had also promised his Papa he would be responsible, and leaving a mysterious noise behind an empty schoolhouse certainly didn’t feel responsible to him.
Pip inched his way around the schoolhouse until he reached the playground out back. The night was clear enough that it didn’t take much looking to find the source of the noise.
“Diamond Tiara?” Pip asked.
The filly was seated on the swing set, staring at the ground. At least, until Pip spoke. Her head snapped up, and her expression changed from one of contemplation to fear, then confusion, then anger, and finally back to confusion. “Pip?” She asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh,” Pip said, peering back at the schoolhouse, “The School Council meetin’ just ended. What’re you doin’ here?”
“Oh,” Diamond said. She frowned. “Well, I’m... sitting.”
“Sittin’,” Pip repeated.
“Yes, sitting,” Diamond said. She crossed her forelegs and frowned at Pip. “Of course I am, anypony can see that.”
“I... guess,” Pip said. He pawed at the snow. “But, uh... how come?”
Pip could see Diamond Tiara’s expression darkening. “Why does it matter?” She asked. “Maybe I like sitting. Don’t you have to run home to your Dad, or something?”
“Well... yeah,” Pip said. “But shouldn’t you, too?”
Diamond shivered. “Well, unlike you, I don’t hang off my parents’ every word and desire,” she said. “I’ll go home when I go home.”
The words hung in the air for a time. In a night so quiet and so still, there was nothing to shoo them away. Diamond Tiara rubbed her forelegs. “Look... what do you want, Pip?”
Pip shifted from hoof to hoof, watching Diamond. As it always did, when her face darkened, it hardened. She almost looked like her old self, sometimes.
“I just... heard the swings,” Pip said, “an’ I wanted to see what it was.”
“Yeah, well,” Diamond said. “It’s just me. Mystery solved. You can go home now.”
“Uh... okay,” Pip said. He nodded, and took a few steps back. “It’s a pretty night,” he offered.
Something resembling softness returned to Diamond’s face. “I... yeah,” she said. “It’s... nice. Quiet.” She snorted, and added, “Well, it was anyways.”
Pip stood for a moment, shuffling his hooves. Diamond had fallen silent again. After a few moment, Pip turned to leave. He made it several steps, then paused. The cold was biting, well past the point of a pleasant chill. Every moment he was out in it, the worse it got. He looked back and asked, “Hey Diamond?”
Diamond became very still. Then she sighed. “Yeah, Pip?”
Pip shuffled his hooves for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say. Eventually he said, “It’s awful cold out.”
“Yeah, yeah Pip,” Diamond said. He could could practically hear the eye roll in her voice. “I noticed, thanks.”
Pip looked down and pawed at the snow. “Well, do you wanna... come back to my place?”
“I don’t need your pity--” Diamond snapped, whipping around. She stopped and drew a sharp breath. “No—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” she sighed, and leaned her head against the swing chain. “I’m sorry.”
Both ponies were quiet for a while. The creak of the chain was the only sound. In the silence of the night, it seemed almost deafening.
Eventually, Diamond spoke again. “Look, Pip,” she said. “I know things are... weird, between us, but I appreciate the offer. Really. I just... I wanted to be alone.”
“It’s okay,” Pip said. He walked back over to her. “We were never exactly great friends...”
Diamond laughed weakly. “That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Pip admitted. “But... I know you can be nice. I’ve seen you do it. And anyways, Papa always says you gotta give ponies a chance to be nice, otherwise how’re they supposed to? So I figured, maybe...” He gestured vaguely, and when he seemed unable to find the words he was looking for, shrugged. “If you really wanna be alone, then I guess that’s okay, but... out in the cold?”
Diamond looked down and rubbed her forelegs. “I’m just... a little tired,” she said.
“We’ve got a really comfy sofa,” Pip said. “An’ Papa’ll have some tea on, and Miss Tealove might be over with biscuits. An’ it’ll be warm there.”
Diamond Tiara looked at the ground, then at Pip. The hardness had gone from her expression, and Pip realized that she really did look tired. Her eyes were still dark, but not a dangerous darkness. They were dark like the night was dark: calm, and gentle. “That does sound nice,” she said.
“It is,” Pip promised. He shivered, and added with a laugh, “And it’s really cold out here anyways.”
Diamond laughed as well, and even managed a small smile. “Yeah,” she said, “it is. Okay, you win. I’ll come with you.” She slipped down from the swing and trotted beside Pip.
She was quiet as they walked, though Pip thought she seemed less closed off than before. Of course, it could have simply been that she was more focused on keeping he scarf tight around her neck. The cold had set in, now. Pip could feel it in his bones.
By the time they reached Pip’s home, both were walking at a brisk pace to keep themselves warm. Pip yanked down his scarf and pointed to a small, unassuming house on the corner. “It’s this one,” he said quickly. His lips dried out the moment the cold air touched them.
Diamond Tiara gave a happy grunt and turned sharply to the house. Pip cantered ahead of her and threw himself at the door.
They bolted through the door shoulder to shoulder, almost stumbling over each other in their haste. Pip slammed the door shut behind them, banishing the cold, and gave a laugh of triumph and relief.
At least, he tried to. It was drowned out by his and Diamond Tiara’s panting and gasping for breath. After a few moment, he finally managed a small chuckle. “Cold,” he managed.
Diamond laughed as well, rubbing the chill out of her face. “Yeah,” she said. She gave herself a few pats to make sure she hadn’t lost feeling, loosened her scarf, and looked around.
Pip’s home looked like an image off a Hearth’s Warming Card. Not the sort that were painted by ponies who liked families in theory and loved children to be on the other side of the room, but the kind that were made by ponies who had learned which ornaments were foal-proof.
There was a tree, of course. It filled an entire corner of the room, adorned in gold and silver tinsel and strung with lights in every colour of the rainbow. It had baubles and ornaments, store-bought and hand-crafted, giving it an eclectic, half-finished look that nevertheless seemed to have its own golden glow.
A stitched image of a winter field was draped over the back of the sofa by the window, flanked on either side by stockings. The window itself was lined with cartoonish figures of snowmares and reindeer and swallows. Similar figures sat along the mantle of the fireplace, along with a snowglobe of a place called Bridol.
A fire was crackling in the fireplace, casting a warm glow that mingled with that of the tree. The room was bathed in red and gold, giving it a feeling of warmth and comfort. It spoke to the deepest, most basic part of Diamond’s heart. It was not just a house, but a Home.
There was one decoration that caught Diamond tiara’s gaze, however: A painting of a strange stallion. It was clear from the painting that he was enormously tall, and draped in a heavy cloak that obscured his figure. His coat was a deep, rich brown, and with his wild mess of forest-green mane, he looked almost like a pine tree. He stood in the middle of a snowy valley, surrounded by swallows.
Diamond frowned at the portrait. There was a distinctly Hearth’s Warming feeling about the figure, and she peered at it in the way a pony would peer at somepony they had seen before, but couldn’t place. She opened her mouth, but whatever she had been planning on saying was interrupted by the sound of heavy hoof-steps approaching.
A head as large as Pip poked out from behind the doorframe, followed by the rest of a brawny stallion. “Welcome ‘ome, Mr. President,” he said in an accent almost as burly as himself. “I see y’brought company! Was wonderin’ what ‘ad ye out so late.” He nodded to Diamond Tiara. “Evenin’, little missy,” he said.
“Uh, hi, Sergeant Plod,” Diamond Tiara said. Pip’s father, Sergeant Peeler Plod, had moved them to Ponyville in order to join Ponyville’s meagre police force, and had quickly gained a reputation for actually doing his job. This had made him immensely popular with some ponies, and the target of scorn for others. As far as Pip knew, Diamond had always regarded him with some suspicion.
“Just Mr.’ll do,” Peeler said. “Or Peeler, if y’like. After hours, n’ all that. How’re your folks?”
“Oh,” Diamond said. “They’re, uh... you know. Fine.”
Peeler raised an eyebrow, but chortled good-naturedly. “Glad to ‘ear it! Well, you foals are just in time! Kettle’s just boiled, and Tealove brought Scones. You two get yourselves warmed up, eh?” With that he plodded off behind the doorframe once more, shaking the house as he walked.
“Told ya,” Pip said as he began to unwind his scarf. He hung it up on a hook by the door and bounded over to the couch. Diamond Tiara hung up her coat as well and followed him.
“Nice, uh, place,” she said as she took a seat on the couch beside him. “Very... festive.”
“Thanks?” Pip said with a laugh. He might have imagined it, but he thought he saw Diamond look guilty for just a moment.
“Really,” she said, returning to her characteristic sarcasm with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a lot different from what I’m used to.”
“Well, you’re pretty rich,” Pip pointed out. “So I guess you probably got all the best decorations an’ stuff. We just got what we brought over from Trottingham.”
“Not that,” Diamond said. “Well, not just that. It’s all... different. I guess it’s all Trottingham stuff...” She blinked, and added, “Hey—you called it Trottingham.”
“Huh?” Pip asked. “Well... yeah?”
“You always used to call it ‘home’ in school and stuff,” Diamond said.
Pip thought about this. “Huh,” he said. “Guess I did... but I guess I’m gettin’ used to Ponyville bein’ home, now.” He looked around the room, and added, “Though maybe Ponyville is just lookin’ more like Trottingham.”
Diamond laughed. “I guess so, from this view,” she said. Is the snowglobe a Trottingham thing?”
“Naw,” Pip laughed. “That’s just us. Bridol is the city where Papa an’ I used to live in Trottingham! It’s right on the ocean, where all the sailors an’ guards come an’ work. That’s why Papa wanted to move here. He said there was more work for Police Ponies here, an’ safer too.”
“Huh,” Diamond said. She continued to scan the room, taking everything in. “And... the socks?”
“Stockings,” Pip corrected. “We leave em’ out for Uncle Tannenbaum to fill on Hearths Warming Eve!”
Diamond Tiara nodded slowly, then paused. “Wait,” she said. “Your uncle comes over on Hearths Warming Eve and fills your stockings? With... what?”
Pip simply laughed. “Not my Uncle,” he said. “Uncle Tannenbaum is everypony’s uncle! Well... everypony in Trottingham, an’ Fancee an’ Furheim, anyways. You don’t have him here.” He gestured to the portrait on the wall. “That’s him!”
At that moment, Peeler returned with a tray of Tea and Scones. A smallish, roundish mare trotted along at his side who Diamond recognized as Tealove, the owner of a nearby tea shop.
“Oop!” Peeler said. “Yup, pretty sure that was me, last time I checked!”
“Hello, dear,” Tealove said, smiling wide at Pip. She turned to Diamond Tiara and, although she looked a bit surprised, smiled at her as well. “And hello, Diamond Tiara,” she said.
“Um, hi,” Diamond said, nodding to her.
“Not you, Papa!” Pip laughed. “I meant Uncle Tannenbaum. I was just tellin’ Diamond Tiara about him, because she’s never heard of him before.”
“Is that who that is?” Tealove asked. “I’ve heard you two go on about him before, but I never put the face to the name. Doesn’t really... look like the gift giving sort, does he?”
Peeler laughed. He passed a cup of tea and a scone to Pip and Diamond Tiara. “Well, you’d look a fright too, if you’d spent three months in the same coat in a longhouse,” he said.
“Longhouse?” Diamond Tiara asked.
“Aye,” Peeler said. “It’s like a... community hall, type. Lotsa ponies come together, ‘ave a meal, ‘ave a... they got these steam bath, things.” he waved his hooves vaguely. “They’re more a Furheim thing, really. That’s where ‘e first showed up, see? Though mind you, it wasn’t Furheim yet back in those days.”
“Sounds like quite the story,” Tealove said. She took a seat on the sofa on the other side of Pip, while Peeler settled into a large armchair by the fire.
“Suppose it is,” he said. “Most foals back across the pond know it by heart by the time they’re old enough t’say ‘is name proper, but I suppose you wouldn’t ‘ere.” He took a sip from his mug and peered at the portrait. “Shame, that. Mighty fine story.”
Pip gasped and clapped his hooves. “You should tell it!” he said.
“Aaah,” Peeler said, waving a hoof. It was clear that it wasn’t a very strong objection.
“It sounds interesting,” Tealove said.
Peller snorted. “Naw, not while Pip’s got company. wouldn’t want t’bore the poor filly with an’ old plod’s ramblin’.”
Then, all at once, all eyes were on Diamond. She jolted slightly when she realized it, nearly spilling her tea. “Oh!” she said. “Well, uh...” It would be rude to object, of course. Not that that necessarily would have stopped her. Even so, as her eyes drifted back to the portrait of Tannenbaum, she took on an expression Pip couldn’t quite place. “I think... I’d actually like to hear that,” she said.
Peeler rumbled, and chortled, and did all manner of things that were not quite a refusal. “Alright!” he said eventually. “Iffin yer all determined to drag it outta me. I suppose ‘tis the season, after all.”
“Well, we appreciate it,” Tealove said, reaching over to prod his belly. “I know how much you hate telling stories.”
“Get on wit’che, mare,” Peeler laughed, swatting playfully at Tealove’s hoof. “Keep on with that an’ I might just change my mind!”
“Papaaaa,” Pip said.
“Alright, alright,” Peeler said. “Was only foolin’.” He shifted in his chair, settling in. Pip leaned back as well, letting the softness of Peeler’s voice relax him until he felt like she might soak into the sofa. Even Diamond seemed to relax, tucking her hind legs up onto the sofa.
“Alright,” Peeler said. “Now... the story a long time ago. It ‘appened far away east, across the Frog Sea, in the Land of Six Bridges...”
***
The Land of Six Bridges was an aptly named one. The bridges had been there when the first settlers from the old Crystal Empire arrived: two of brass, two of silver, and two of gold, connecting the mainland to a pair of islands.
Even then, there were colonies on the islands. They were infants of civilization, seeds that would one day grow into the mighty nations of Fancee and Trottingham. On the mainland, however, on the peninsula that stretched down from the Great Frozen North, there was only one settlement: The Gate.
Nestled in the valley between to final mountains in the range, The Gate could barely be considered south of the Great Frozen North. The mountains funnelled summer winds into storms so powerful they could rip plants out of the ground, and the winters were so fiercely cold they could freeze sap, shattering the trees where they stood. Only the most resilient of life survived there, packed into dense forest and scrub.
The ponies were no different. Only the hardiest dared to live there and compete with the deadly weather. Only the bravest could bare it, to keep watch for more survivors of the old Crystal Empire. The bravest, or the most foolish.
Which of these things the tall stallion was, it was impossible to say. Either way, he had arrived.
He walked with his head down, forcing his way through flank-deep snowdrifts. The cold wind felt as though it would flay the very flesh from his bones. Every single inch of him begged to stop, to rest, to just lie down and let the storm take him, but he pushed on. He had come too far to stop now.
He had heard rumours of The Gate in the ruins of the Crystal Empire. At least, he had seen the messages. There were hardly any ponies left in the frozen wasteland that ponykind had once called home, but he had been able to find signs left behind for any stragglers. He had dared to dream that somepony had made it east. Dared to hope.
A gust of wind cut through his coat, sending him to his knees. He sucked in a ragged gasp, and forced himself back up. It had to be close, now. He chanced a look back over his shoulder, but any sign of his progress had already been wiped away. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, and carried on.
How long had he been walking, now? Days? Weeks? He could barely remember what it meant to be warm. In fact, he could barely remember what it was to be cold. He could barely feel his hooves, and what he could feel was pain. Biting pain that felt at once like ice and fire, right through to the bone, and even that had begun to fade. He longed to feel the warmth of a hearth on his hooves once again.
He tried to imagine it as he walked, to take his mind off the pain, but he seemed to have trouble gripping the thought. It slipped away from him again and again, sinking into the murky depths of dreamlike thought. He grappled with it, and for just a moment lost focus and tumbled into the snow.
He struggled to his hooves, but couldn’t seem to put them beneath himself. He gasped and fought, but to no avail.
At least there was no more pain. There was no more feeling at all. Even the wind no longer touched him. With the last of his energy he managed to look up, and smiled. In the distance he could see an enormous building, peeking out through the storm. He tried to call out to it, but his voice was lost in the wind.
Finally, at long last, his strength failed him. His head fell against the snow, and the murkiness in his head became a fog, then a darkness. He dreamed of warmth. Then, he dreamed a voice:
“Over here!”
***
The stallion woke slowly. He wasn’t certain that he was awake, at first. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, and through his muddled head he thought he might be dreaming. He groaned. He had never had a dream that had hurt quite so much before.
“Easy there,” a strange voice said. The stallion tried to sit up to look, but was gently pressed back down.
“That means lie down, dear,” the voice said. It belonged to a mare, he saw. She was the colour of fresh corn, and on the large side. It was not weight, however—he could feel the strength in her forelegs and hear it in her voice. “You were out in that storm much too long. You need to rest, and keep warm.”
The stallion struggled limply beneath the mare’s hoof for a moment, then eventually gave up. “I... do feel warm,” he admitted. “Hot, actually... my hooves feel like they’re burning.”
“That,” said another voice, “would be the frostbite, I imagine.”
A unicorn stallion came into view, levitating a barrel of gently steaming water. “At least if Maize is to be believed,” he added.
“I should say I am,” the earth pony replied. “Unless you’ve suddenly gained a lifetime of experience in healing while I wasn’t looking. Set that down anywhere, please.”
The unicorn dropped the barrel where he stood and harrumphed.
Maize rolled her eyes. “Well, thank you anyways,” she said. She turned her attention back to the stallion. “Now,” she said, “I’m going to need to take your hooves out from under there. It’s not going to be comfortable, but I need to treat the frostbite.”
the stallion tried to sit up, but was pushed down once again. “Where am I?” he asked weakly.
“You’re at The Gate,” Maize answered. “In the Communal Longhouse. We keep a watch here, for anypony stilling coming out from the Frozen North. Lucky for you.”
As she spoke, she gently rolled down the blanket that covered the stallion and eased out his forelegs. He winced as the cold hit them. “I’m not sure I feel lucky. How can cold feel so hot?” he asked.
“They’re too cold,” Maize answered. “Your body can’t figure out what’s going on, so it just settles for ‘pain’.” She looked up and said, “Squall? Can we get a bit more heat in here?”
A Pegasus, who had previously been sitting in the corner of the room, glowered at her. “There’s only so much wood to go around,” he said. “If we use it all up, there’ll be no more for us. Or anypony else, for that matter. It’s warm enough.”
“Not if the patient is uncomfortable, it isn’t,” Maize said. “If it’s too cold, then his hooves won’t heal right, and we’ll be going over all this again in a few weeks, but worse.” She tutted and dipped a cloth in the barrel of water. “We can always get more firewood once the storm is over, but his hooves are here to stay.”
“I’d like to hope so, anyways,” The stallion said, hoping to cut off an argument before it had a chance to start. “But please, don’t put yourselves to too much trouble on my account.”
“The storm won’t be breaking any time soon,” Squall said. “We need to save the wood for an emergency.”
“So? Do something about it!” Maize demanded. She began to run the cloth over the stallion’s hooves. “I know dear,” she said to him, “but they need to warm up.” She turned her attention back to Squall, and said, “What do we even keep you Pegasi around for, if you can’t stop a simple blizzard.”
Squall jumped up from his perch. “’Simple Blizzard’ my rump! We’ve never seen a storm this bad! And there’s magic in it, there’s no denying that. This is a North Storm. There’s nothing we can do but let it pass. Can’t you grow some plant to help with his hooves?”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Maize snapped. “I can’t just make up plants to grow, and there’s no herbal cure for frostbite.” She tutted and rolled her eyes, and returned to wiping down the stallion’s limbs.
“Well then, get Bore to do something about it,” Squall said flippantly. “Get some use out of the layabout Unicorns for once.”
“It’s Borealis!” the unicorn said. “And what do you mean, ‘for once’? Rain and flowers are nice, but they don’t exactly hold a candle to moving the sun and moon, now do they?” He flicked his mane and smirked haughtily at the other ponies.”
Squall snorted. “Star Family moved the sun and moon,” he said. “And Platinum took the power with her when she fled the Crystal Empire. Since the sun and moon keep on moving, I’d say the rest of you lot are little more than squatters! Least you can do is heat the stones for us.”
“Especially if you’d like to eat,” Maize said coldly. “There’s more to what we Earth Ponies do than just ‘flowers’, thank you.”
Borealis grumbled, but could not seem to find a retort. “Fine,” he said eventually. “So you’re useful, good for you. But you’re in no position to argue that we’re somehow the weak link here.” He trotted to a pit of stones in the center of the room, and let his magic wash over them. “If you Earth Ponies and Pegasi have proven anything since the Breaking, it’s that you need somepony to keep you all in check.”
“Excuse me!?” Maize said, slamming her hoof down on the bed beside the stallion. “Keep us in check!? If it weren’t for the food we make, you Unicorns and Pegasi would tear each other to pieces over whatever scraps you could dig up! This settlements runs on our backs!”
“Oh, please,” Squall said. “This place wouldn’t run at all if it weren’t for us—you’d all be buried in snow and ice. Talk about the food all you like, but as far as I’m concerned it’s fair payment for keeping you all alive!”
“Now, you listen here,” Maize said, leaning over the bed—and planting her hoof firmly on the stallion’s chest.
The stallion heaved and coughed. He had been mistaken in believing that Maize had no weight—her muscled weighed as much as anypony he had ever seen.
“Oh gods!” Maize said, jumping off him immediately. “I’m so sorry—I lost my head, and...”
“It’s fine,” the stallion managed between coughs. “But please, there’s no need to fight! If you can all live in a place like this, surely you must be able to put aside your differences? Where I am from, the ponies have been able to live together in true harmony, as one.”
“A lovely thought,” Borealis said, “but one rather stymied by our less idealistic cohorts. You seem like a sensible enough fellow—it will be nice to have another new face in the Unicorn Longhouse.”
“Oh?” the stallion said. Wrapped in blankets as he was he hadn’t noticed, but he realized that he was still wearing his cloak. “You didn’t undress me?” he asked.
“Well, it would be rude to,” Maize said. “Especially for a Tribsepony—I’m sure I can feel Earth Pony spirit in those hooves.” She glowered at Squall and Borealis. “We could always use more good-natured ponies around here.”
The stallion was ignoring her. He dug himself out of the blankets and began hastily unbuttoning the coat. He stopped halfway up, then paused. Slowly, gently, he took out a small bundle and unfolded it, revealing a shivering swallow.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Ah,” he said. “I was worried you had been squashed by all the blankets. Thank goodness.”
All three of the ponies closed in on the bed, their grousing temporarily forgotten. “‘S that,” Squall asked, “a bird?”
“A swallow,” the stallion confirmed. “I found him in the Frozen North. He had been left behind in the last migration, I think. I thought, since I would be coming south anyways...”
Maize smiled. “A sweet thought, dear... now I’m definitely happy to be having you in the Earth Pony longhouse. Once this storm breaks, anyways. Why don’t we take that cloak off you and get it cleaned while we wait.”
She began to unbutton her coat the rest of the way, but the stallion stopped her.
He was silent for a moment. Eventually, he said, “What... makes you think I’m an Earth Pony?” he asked.
Borealis laughed. “There!” he said. “You see? I knew he was a Unicorn.”
“Oh?” The stallion said “And what makes you so sure of that?”
The three ponies hesitated. They looked between one another and shuffled their hooves.
“Then,” Squall asked, “A Pegasi?”
The stallion looked at each of them in turn, and at the swallow, and then finally, at his coat. He buttoned it up, and leaned back down. As he did, he realized just how exhausted he felt. Had sitting up really taken so much out of him?
He didn’t let it show. Instead he said, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
“Well, you have to be of some tribe,” Borealis said. “Which is it, then? Which tribe are you?”
The stallion simply smiled, and yawned. “I... am Tannenbaum,” he said.
***
The stallion called Tannebaum had fallen back asleep. His swallow was nestled in the crook of his shoulder and chin, chirruping softly from time to time. For once, Maize, Borealis and Squall were not fighting.
Squall scratched at the scruff that was beginning to form on his chin. “You think he’s really gonna keep that coat on as long as he’s here?” he asked. “I mean, you think he really doesn’t plan on telling us his tribe?”
“Well, he can only keep it a secret so long,” Borealis said. He took a lade of water from the barrel beside himself, and poured it over the hot stones. A hiss of steam filled the air, warming the room. “The storm will break eventually, and we’ll all need to go home.”
“I doubt that will be the end of it,” Maize said. “He’s badly frostbitten, and has hypothermia, and exhaustion and near-starvation on top of it—he must have hiked across the whole Frozen North—and he still had the spirit to tell us off. That’s no mean feat, and I doubt that recovery will make him more agreeable.”
“Well,” Borealis said, in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t convinced of the suggestion himself, “We could always just check ourselves. It’s not as if he’s going anywhere.”
All three watched the sleeping form of Tannenbaum. Only his face was visible beneath the blankets. It was terrifyingly gaunt, the sort of face that would have looked thin even if its owner were not deathly ill. In spite of that, however, there was a sort of peacefulness about it, as though he had found something he had spent a long time searching for.
“No,” Borealis said eventually. “Never mind. He’s kin to... well, one of us, at any rate. The Gate has no past. If it’s his secret, he’s free to keep it.”
Maize nodded. “Even so,” she said. “He’ll have to live somewhere, once the storm breaks.
Another silence fell over the group. Borealis and Maize looked to Squall, who stared, dead-eyed, into the distance.
“The storm... will break?” Maize asked.
Squall hummed contemplatively, more to himself than the others. “Well,” He said. “‘S a storm. They don’t usually last forever. But...” He rubbed his chin. “This one feels strange. Rolled in, what, almost two days ago, now? And fast. No storm, even a magic one, should last this long naturally.”
“You think it will stick around?” Borealis asked.
“Seems that way,” Squall said. He scratched his neck. “Pegasi’ll spot what’s going on, but your tribes? Not likely.”
“And you won’t have any way to restock on food,” Maize said. “If it’s going to stay like this, even moving from Longhouse to Longhouse could be dangerous.
“The Unicorns could make paths,” Borealis said. “If they know the troubles, they can make Magic tunnels to block the worst of the snow.”
“If they know,” Squall said. “The trouble is getting the message to them... could you make one back to their Longhouse?”
Borealis shook his head. “My speciality is in scrying magic,” he said. “I can point us to the Longhouse, but getting there...”
“Might be enough,” Squall said. He gestured back to Tannenbaum. “Our new friend has at least proven we can make it out there for a while. If we had a straight shot to the Unicorn Longhouse, I might be able to make it.”
“Not on three hours of sleep you won’t,” Maize said. “I know how long you’ve been up, Squall. And you as well, for that matter, Borealis. If this is our plan, then so be it, but you both need rest. Sleep.”
The two Stallion looked at each other, and shrugged. Borealis said, “Nopony is starving overnight,” he said.
Squall was more hesitant, but Maize shoved him in the direction of the beds. “Get, you great stubborn featherbag,” she said.
Squall snorted, but relented. “Fine. Daft old mudbug,” he fired back. “Have it your way. I won’t go out into the snow until I’ve rested. Need something to do anyways, since Bore is going to be a wimp about it.”
“You can hardly me a wimp if you’re outvoted,” Borealis replied. “It just makes you dense.”
For a while, they were almost smiling. But, soon enough, those smiles turned back to frowns, and they went to opposite ends of the Longhouse to sleep, and to prepare.
***
Peeler’s story was interrupted by the ringing of a telephone. All four ponies jolted, shaken out of the story by the noise.
“Drat,” Peeler said, patting his chest. “I was just gettin’ to the good part. Who’d be callin’ this time of night?” He harrumphed and wiggled his moustache, then shook his head. “Must be summat important. Sorry all, I’d better take it.” He hauled himself out of his chair, adding, “may as well put another kettle on while I’m up.”
He left the three ponies sitting in the living room and trotted to the kitchen, where he answered the phone.
“Hallo,” he answered cheerfully. As he did, he started pouring water into a tin kettle. “Plod residence, Peeler speakin’.”
“Hey, Sarge,” the other end answered. “Sorry to bother you at home.”
“Chips?” Peeler asked as he set the kettle on the stove. “Summat the matter?” Constable Fish'n Chips was a new addition to Ponyville’s police force, and while he was inexperienced, Peeler knew he had good instincts. He wasn’t the sort of stallion to get worried over nothing. If he sounded concerned, there was something to be concerned about.
“Gettin’ to look that way,” Chips said. “We’ve got a missing filly.”
Any sense of cheer departed from Peeler’s voice. “You’re sure?” he asked. “Didn’t just come home late?”
“Seems that way,” Chips said. “The Father’s down here with me, and the mother’s been home all day. No sign of the filly, and with the night this cold... and it’s only getting worse. I figured we’d better get as many hooves on it as possible.”
“Good thinkin’,” Peeler said. “I’ll head right out. Who’re we lookin’ for?”
“The Rich kid,” Chips said. “I mean, the Rich’s kid, not just, some rich kid.” Chips leaned away from the phone to groan. “Diamond Tiara,” he said. Peeler could faintly hear the sound of a hoof slapping a forehead. “It’s Diamond Tiara.”
Peeler blinked, then laughed.
There was a pause from the other end. “Uh, Sarge?” Chips asked, his voice low. “I know she’s not popular with a lot of the foals, but I don’t think this is something to be laughing about.” He coughed and added, “Also, her dad’s here with me.
“Good,” Peeler said. “You can put ‘im on. I wasn’t laughin’ for nothin’: Diamond’s ‘ere with me.”
“Oh,” Chips said. “Oh!” he laughed as well. “Jeeze, Sarge, way to lead a stallion on! Still, can’t fault you for solvin’ the problem. Guess that’s why you’re the Sarge.”
Peeler chuckled. “Gonna give me a swollen ‘ead,” he said. “I just do m’best. Can you gimme over to Mr. Rich?”
“You got it, Sarge,” Chips said. “I’ll call off the rest of the squad, let them know we’re good.”
The sounds from the phone became distant for a moment. Peeler could hear Filthy Rich, and although he couldn’t make out any words, there was a clear tone of relief to his voice. After a moment his voice became more distinct as he took the phone.
“Sergeant Plod?” Filthy Rich asked. “You have Diamond Tiara with you?”
“Yessir,” Peeler said. “She was with Pip when ‘e came ‘ome tonight. Been ‘ere for ‘bout an hour.”
“Thank Celestia,” Filthy Rich sighed. “I just came home to my wife in hysterics because Diamond hadn’t been home since she left for school today. It’s good to know she was just with a friend.”
Peeler hummed and scratched his mane. “Well,” he said, “dunno I’ve ever noticed ‘em bein’ friends before, but can’t say as I’m disappointed if that’s the case...”
“Yes,” Rich said slowly. “Well, I suppose I can’t say I knew offhoof either... otherwise I likely would have enquired before going to the police.”
“’Bout that,” Peeler said. He hesitated for a moment. “Hope you don’t mind my sayin’,” he said slowly, “But couple hours seems bit soon to be worried ‘bout ‘er runnin’ away? Mind, I don’t you blame you bein’ worried ‘bout ‘er, in this cold, but...”
He peered down the hall. None of the ponies seemed to be aware of his conversation at all, lost in amiable chatter of their own. At least, Pip and Tealove were chatting. Diamond seemed to be following along with their conversation, but not contributing. At times her eyes seemed to lose focus, slipping into the middle distance and looking much too old for her small face.
“I don’t know what she’s normally like, but she doesn’t seem in high spirits,” Peeler concluded.
“Yes, well...” Rich sighed. “Under ordinary circumstances, I wouldn’t have been worried. Diamond is a good filly. Sensible, independent, clever... I can’t say I wouldn’t worry, with the weather being what it is, but I’d have given it another hour or two at least. It’s just that... she had a fight with her mother, this morning.”
Peeler leaned back against the counter, scratching his chin. “Alright,” he said. “Ain’t unusual for foals to fight wit’ their parents, though. ‘Specially not around her age. Must have been some fight?”
“It was,” Rich said. “I only caught the tail end of it after a business call, but it was... intense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so angry.” Peeler could hear him rubbing his face. “I’m lucky neither is a Unicorn, or there could have been property damage.”
“Does sound serious,” Peeler said. He plucked the kettle off the stove moments before it could begin to whistle, and started pulling cups out of the cupboard. “What was it over? Might be a good idea to keep ‘em away from that in the future.”
Rich sighed. “That’s the problem,” he said. “I have no idea. By the time I got into it, things had already gotten personal. I managed to get them to leave it alone long enough for Diamond to go to school, but Spoiled won’t tell me what it was about.” His voice took on a strange tone, somewhere between frustration and disappointment. “This isn’t the first time they’ve fought lately. I should know what it’s about by now.”
There was a long pause. Peeler was silent, leaning against the counter. He considered breaking the silence, but eventually decided that it demanded a more specific answer.
“I never thought anything of it,” Rich said eventually. “You’re exactly right: it isn’t uncommon for fillies Diamond’s age to fight with their parents. And Diamond is a clever girl anyways... so I never troubled myself with it, and always just... it seemed like there was always so much work, and so little time for them. I assumed they were getting along fine.”
Rich became silent once again. Peeler nodded, and hummed. “One father to another?” he said. “It’s a good thin’ to ‘ave faith in your foals, an’ trust ‘em. Foals gotta be foals, an’ you’re lettin’ ‘er grow up independent. But you gotta be doin’ it for them. Means you gotta be watchin’, so you know when t’step in an’ ‘elp. Means listenin’ to her so you can steer ‘er right. Right?”
“Right,” Rich said. Some liveliness had returned to his voice, if not necessarily cheer. “Thank you, Sergeant Plod.”
Peeler chuckled. “I’m off shift, Mr. Rich,” he said. “You can just call me Peeler.”
Rich managed a small laugh. “Well, thank you Peeler,” he said. “I’ll be around to pick up Diamond shortly. Thank you, for making sure she’s okay.”
“Not at all,” Peeler chuckled. “You be safe in the cold out there. I’ll see about havin’ some warm tea for you when you get ‘ere. Take care.”
He hung up the telephone, and returned his attention to the tea. When it was fixed, he set the four steaming mugs on a tray and trotted back to the living room.
“...An’ next year we’re gonna try an’ get some of the windows replaced, ‘cause they’re leaky an’ drafty, especially in the back,” Pip was saying. “Only it’s gonna be hard ‘cause Miss Cheerilee says the School board won’t fix something unless it’s broken and they’ll think that a draft ain’t bad enough.”
“They’d think it was broken if a foal kicked a hoofball through the windows,” Diamond said. Here tone was almost sardonic, but a touch of weariness made it difficult to tell. When she saw Peeler approach he ears snapped up, and her eyes bulged. “Uh, by accident I mean,” she clarified. “Not, like... we should make sure everypony plays away from the windows so they... dooon’t think we were trying to force the issue?” She smiled meekly.
Peeler chortled. “Good sense, that,” he said. “Vandalism is a bad look for foals, these days.” He handed out the fresh tea. “Hope you ponies weren’t bored to tears waitin’ on me?”
“Naw,” Pip said. He slurped from his cup. “Who was callin’?”
Peeler settled back into his chair, and his his frown behind his mug. He let his eyes drift easily around the room until they came, as naturally as he could manage, to Diamond. Her eyes met his, and locked for a moment. Then, she found something more interesting to look at in the corner.
“Nothin’ special,” Peeler said. “Jus’ Gravy Train wit’ a few questions for the end of the year paperwork, odds and ends sort of thing.” He stroked his moustache. “Now then! Suppose you’re all wantin’ to get back to the story, eh?”
Pip cheered, and Tealove nodded warmly. Diamond Tiara, however, lost interest in the corner and grunted.
As all eyes turned to her, she shrugged and sunk back into the couch. “I dunno,” she said. “I mean, I guess it’s a nice story so far. But... it’s not a great story for Hearth’s Warming, is it? It’s just... ponies fighting, and arguing, and... maybe dying. Maybe I should just...” She glanced to the door.
“Come on,” Pip said, nudging her. “Now that you started, you gotta finish listenin’! It ain’t bad all the way through!”
“Can’t ‘ave a good, proper endin’ without a bit of an ‘ard beginnin’,” Peeler added.
“Pretty sure a lot of ponies go through their whole lives happy,” Diamond snorted.
Peeler considered this. “Well, maybe,” he admitted. “Mind, they’re not the kinda ponies in stories, are they? Point is, it ain’t the beginnin’ that matters, it’s the endin’. Only, I can’t just tell you what the endin’s gonna be like, else there’s no point, see?”
“They do have a point, dear,” Tealove said. “Granted it’s a bit more... intense, than most of the Hearth’s Warming stories I know. But even then, how many don’t have things going wrong at first?”
Diamond Tiara opened her mouth as if to object, but couldn’t seem to find the words. “Fine,” she said eventually. She sagged back into the sofa, sinking so deep and so low she was nearly laying across the cushions.
Peeler chuckled, and took a sip of his tea. “Glad to ‘ave you stickin’ with us,” he said. “Now, where was I? Ah, right, right...”
He cleared his throat, and continued the story.