TRIXIE: A Hearth's Warming Eve Carol

by SupaSupaBadTrulyMadMoves

In the Light of Day

Trixie once again opened her eyes rapidly, frantically, her heart pounding. The first thing she was aware of was a series of wheezy guffaws.

"Last night wasn't a dream at all, was it?" she said bitterly. She covered her face with her hooves. "Ugh… I still have two more spirits to speak to? I can't do this…" She fell backward and sighed. "Well… might as well get it over with."

She flung open her bed curtains and looked around, then slumped in exasperation. "…Of course."

Her bed was sitting in the middle of a seemingly endless landscape, covered in steep hills whose grass was colored with a bright blue checkerboard pattern. The sky was pink, and huge chunks of land were floating in the sky, most of them topped with houses or trees. Multicolored fish swam through the air, and a dozen pie tins sprouted out of the ground and floated off into space.

"Over here, Miss Trixie," said a deep male voice, before resuming its hysterical laughter.

Trixie tentatively walked out into this odd setting and followed the source of the voice. There, on a sinister black-and-red throne on the top of a hill, was a strange creature with a snakelike body, the grayish head of a pony with a mismatched pair of horns, and similarly mismatched arms and legs. He was rolling with laughter on the throne, his body draped across the armrests, but as Trixie approached he straightened up and awaited her, looking down on her eagerly with the red pupils of his bulging, differently-sized eyes.

"Mele kalikimaka, my dear," he said smugly, bowing his head. "Do you know me? If not, it's time you did. I am Discord, once a spirit of chaos who ruled your nation, but tonight… your guide to the Hearth's Warming Eves of right now."

She merely stared at him, speechless.

"Enjoying my world of chaos?" he said brightly, spreading his arms and looking around at the bizarre landscape. "Hmm, I suppose I should have put some effort into making it a bit more festive. Here…" He snapped his fingers, and there was a faint rumbling sound, immediately followed by a loud WHUMP as a foot of snow instantly dropped from the sky to cover the land… and Trixie herself.

She shook the snow off of her head and back and stood knee-deep in it, staring at Discord incredulously.

"Ah, there we go," he said. There was no snow in a small radius around his throne. "Eggnog?" He offered Trixie a glass of the beverage, holding it in the tuft at the tip of his scaly red tail.

"Um… no thank you," she said, flinching away.

"Probably wise. It's got a bit of a kick." Discord threw the eggnog over his shoulder, where it sailed far off into the distance before exploding in midair in a huge fireball. Seconds later, various wreaths and baubles dropped down from the sky, but stopped before hitting the ground, floating eerily a few inches off the snow. Discord broke out laughing, then leaned toward Trixie, twisting his neck so he was looking at her upside-down. "You do know me."

She nodded. "From scripture. There are carvings of you on my mantel. But I would never have ventured that you were real."

"I'm as real as the plague," he said, thrusting out his chest proudly. "And I'm here just for you. Aren't you so lucky to have somepony looking out for you who cares enough to send me your way?" He bent down and pinched her cheek, then rolled with laughter some more.

"What, pray tell, is so funny?" Trixie demanded.

Discord fell silent, and thought about it for a moment, then stood up and stretched his arms. "Well, nothing in particular, but I have a role to play and I'm not going to do it halfway. With that in mind…"

He waved his arms, and in a flash of light he was dressed in an emerald-green robe, with a golden crown atop his head. "Touch my robe," he said melodramatically.

Trixie blinked. "Erm… okay…"

She touched the hem of the robe, and everything around them dissolved, including the robe itself. Discord grabbed Trixie by the hoof and led her through the void of blackness. Slowly, falling snow became visible, then gray clouds overhead, and gradually, the streets of Canterlot faded into view, and Discord and Trixie gently touched the ground.

Two snooty-looking ponies, a mare and a stallion, strolled through the snow with their noses thrust haughtily into the air. An elderly, balding pony crossed their path. "Well, hello," he said warmly.

The couple stared at the oldster in surprise.

"Hey! Hey there! You two!"

Even more surprised now, the two snooty ponies turned their heads to a high window, which was being wiped clean by a buck-toothed stallion wearing shabby clothes that were much too small for him.

"It's me, Hayseed Turnip Truck!" he drawled, waving to them excitedly. "Don't tell me y'all don't remember me, 'cause I sure as heckfire remember you. I cleaned y'all's windows, and I remember you seemed real nas."

The two stared dumbfounded for a moment, then smiled at the unkempt pony. "Yes, hello," said the stallion.

"So good to see you again," the mare added. "And merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, brother."

The window-washer beamed and waved to them once again. The pair nodded politely to the old man, and proceeded on their way. A border collie ran through the streets, bounding back and forth hyperactively before leaping upon the two ponies, who chuckled and agreeably gave the dog a little pat. The dog barked happily and darted away.

On the sidewalks, several merchants were closing down their booths. A large gray stallion with a red facial tattoo held a sprig of mistletoe over the head of a long-haired mare who was peddling crystal chalices, and wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively. She giggled and waved him off playfully. A lanky stallion with glasses offered a stone chicken statue to a bookseller in a pith helmet; she looked skeptical and guarded at first, but soon softened, accepting the gift with a grateful smile.

Discord led Trixie down another street. At a florist's shop, three mares were putting the finishing touches on huge flower arrangement. Two young unicorn colts dressed in patchy clothes and shabby old newsboy caps—one chubby and blue-gray, the other lanky and pale orange—stared up at the flowers with slack-jawed awe.

"Ooooh," the chubby, buck-toothed one said. "Those flower arrangements look…"

"Delicious!" the tall one slurred.

"Yeah!" the small one squealed, jumping up and down. "So delicious!"

The florists beamed at the boys appreciatively and set the new arrangement in the window. The two colts continued to stare at the flowers longingly, the taller one even starting to salivate, when suddenly they both inhaled deeply… a smell had caught their attention.

They wandered toward a bakery, which was set in the basement of a stone building; its windows were at street level, and numerous children were gathered there to smell the baking bread, including a spiny red teenaged dragon, and three little fillies with odd gossamer wings who wore black hooded jackets. Discord gestured toward the window, inviting Trixie to look closer.

Trixie nodded and slipped unnoticed through the small gathered crowd. Inside, a mustached griffon and an elderly mule were both mixing dough. A timer went ding, and the mule hastily went to the oven and produced several freshly-baked loaves of bread, setting them on the counter to cool.

The children started clamoring for the bread, to get as close to it as possible.

"Oh dear, Gustave," the mule warbled. "I don't think the children are quite content just smelling our wares. Let's show them some charity."

The griffon hesitated, then nodded his head. "Yes, of course, for ze children…"

"Ha!" the dragon barked. "Out of the way, shrimps…" He shoved his way past the other, smaller children as Gustave set a loaf of bread on the windowsill. The dragon cackled and reached for it, but at the last second a tiny white pegasus filly swooped down and snatched it right from underneath his claws, before zipping off into the sky.

"HEY!" the dragon roared. He lowered his head menacingly. "That's mine…" he growled, spreading his wings and taking to the air in pursuit of the tiny filly.

Discord casually snapped his fingers, teleporting himself and Trixie into an alley. The filly landed, setting her bread on top of a barrel. She had nut-brown hair and wore glasses, which were old and worn like the rest of her attire, with a few scratches in the glass and tape around the rims. She remained hovering in the air, beating her wings at a remarkable speed, dipping down to a few inches off the ground to reassuringly pat the head of a small fluffy puppy who seemed too weak to even move, until it lifted its head at the scent of the fresh bread.

The dragon landed heavily at the mouth of the alley and stomped toward the filly. "Hey, you!" he snarled. "That's mine! Give it back!"

The filly glanced at him only for a second before frantically starting to slice the bread with extremely precise strikes of her wings, dividing it into ten perfect, equal pieces.

"One for me," she said under her breath in a rapid, high-pitched, and heavily accented voice. "One for my puppy. Two for my friends…"

The dragon halted in his advancing tracks. "Friends?"

Two fillies stepped out of the shadows: one a pure black alicorn with glasses and a purple mane held back by a headband, who was leading the other along by a hoof—a pale turquoise pegasus with a white mane and milky film over her eyes. Both were dressed in thin jackets, clearly providing insufficient protection from the cold.

"And the rest for you," the squeaky-voiced filly concluded, placing the remainder of the loaf in the dumbstruck dragon's claws before zipping back to her friends. The three fillies and the puppy each had a single slice, while the dragon had been given everything that remained, more than half.

He stared blankly at the bread, then back at the others, who were happily eating their slices. "No…" he said darkly. "I don't think so." He prowled forward.

Trixie winced, and took a step forward, ready to stand between the dragon and the children, but remembered that she was not truly present, and froze in place, staring helplessly.

The dragon took two slices of the loaf for himself and placed the rest on the fillies' makeshift table. "I can't take all of it," he mumbled. He turned his head away regretfully and trudged away. The little girls beamed at his retreating back.

Discord leaned over the bread and inhaled deeply, waving his hands to waft the scent into his face. "Mmm, do you smell that bread, Trixie?"

"Yes," Trixie said. "It's lovely bread."

"No, no, this is no ordinary good bread," Discord insisted. "This bread is a symphony, its flavor like a choir of angels. It's almost supernatural how good it is."

Trixie looked over the bread in confusion as the street urchins and their dog happily munched on it. "I only see and smell ordinary bread," she admitted. "What makes it so wondrous?"

"Because," Discord said solemnly, "for these children who are so enjoying it, it's the first meal they've had for a long time, and the last one they are likely to have for a while. That alone makes it… magical."

Trixie pondered that as Discord waved his arms, causing the scene to change with a rapid and loud wipe effect. Deep into her contemplation of Discord's words, it took her a long time to notice where they were now: a tiny kitchen, paint peeling off of its wooden walls. An orange pegasus stallion with spiky blue hair and a small purple dragon were setting a tablecloth over several slightly-warped tables that had been pushed together, taking up almost the entire room.

The three hooded and insect-winged fillies whom Trixie had seen observing the bakery burst in through the front door. "Dad, Dad, Dad!" they all shouted, overlapping one another and pulling back their hoods. All of them had strikingly attractive features and elaborate, vibrantly-colored hairstyles.

"Daddy!" one of them squeaked, lowering her hood to unleash a cascade of long blue hair. "Daddy, they're baking fresh bread! It's like, soooooo good!"

"Pfft, forget the bread," another drawled, also lowering her hood. She had a purple mane with aqua stripes, parted down the middle. "The florists had rows and rows of these arrangements."

"The bread was better," the first chirped.

"Those flower arrangements were pure art, perfectly arranged colors and flavors," the other deadpanned.

"You wouldn't know good bread if it jumped up and bit you!"

"Well, you're a yokel who can't appreciate anything sophisticated."

"Well, you're—"

"Knock it off, girls," said the third filly, finally removing her own hood and unleashing an impossibly voluminous and puffy mass of golden hair. She glared intently at the father. "Daddy, when will we get to have fresh bread and flavorful flower arrangements?"

The father sighed deeply, looking at the three little girls sadly. "I don't know, girls. Every year we try… and hope… but…"

"Adagio, Aria, Sonata, why don't y'all give your dad some room?" said a voice.

In a small door at the back of the room, an orange earth pony with a freckled face, dressed as a nursemaid, was emerging into the kitchen, followed by a somewhat chubby bronze-colored filly with a raspberry-hued mane, also freckled.

"Babs, take your sisters and get 'em all cozy by the fire," the mare said gently.

"You got it, Applejack," said the filly, escorting the three smaller fillies into the other room, closing the door behind them.

"I'll help ya with that, Mr. Flash," said the nursemaid, assisting the dragon and pegasus in laying out the tablecloth. "Still waitin' on Sunset?"

"Yeah," Flash said, looking worried. "I was expecting her a while ago…"

"And the lady of the house?"

"Still with Dinky at church, I guess. Dinky probably wanted to linger a while. You know her, invested in getting all she can from the experience."

"Yep, ain't that the truth," Applejack chuckled.

Applejack and the dragon finished setting the tablecloth, the best they could over the mish-mash of tables, and Flash returned to cooking, hastily rushing from one dish to another.

Trixie turned to Discord in surprise. "Did they say Dinky? This is Twilight Sparkle's house?"

Discord rang a great iron bell that had suddenly appeared above his head, which disappeared as soon as its sound faded. "It is indeed."

Trixie looked around the cramped room. "How many live in this tiny place?"

"Nine," said Discord. "Twilight, her husband, five daughters, and their two live-in servants. Used to be ten, but their eldest daughter recently gained an apprenticeship. That one has, however, been permitted to come home for the holiday, so tonight, ten will dine once again. That's a lot of mouths to feed."

"Indeed," Trixie muttered, perturbed. She examined Applejack. "How can they afford a nursemaid?"

"They can't," Discord said simply. "But without one, there would be nopony to mind the children. The mister and the missus both work, you see. And even if they didn't, without an extra body to mind the housework and the children on top of everything else, this place would be…" He looked around the bare walls. "Well, more of a pile of rubble than it is already. They keep on a nursemaid they can't afford to pay because they need all the help they can get maintaining their sanity in the face of their hard-knock life."

"Oh, Applejack," Flash said suddenly, turning to her. "Before I forget again, here… here's your holiday bonus."

He placed several copper bits on the dining table. Applejack stared at them, as appalled as if she had been offered a sack of teeth, then back to Flash in disbelief. "Mr. Flash, you must be jokin'. I can't take this! You know as well as I do that y'all can't afford to give me a bonus."

Flash smiled weakly. "Yes, but it's only fair that you be properly compensated for your services."

"Life ain't fair," Applejack countered, sliding the bits back toward him. "I reject your bonus. I ain't takin' it and there's no way you're gonna make me." She glared sternly.

He stared back with uncertainty, then lowered his head in submission. "All right." They both left the bits there on the table.

"And the dragon?" Trixie asked, watching the young dragon clear up the counter-space in the kitchen and stir a few of the cooking dishes with extreme speed and precision.

"Owes Miss Sparkle a life-debt," Discord replied. "They sort of adopted him. His efficiency as a personal assistant outweighs the extra cost of feeding him, plus they don't have to pay him. Oh, they've tried, but like Applejack, he knows they can't afford him and would never accept payment."

The front door opened, and a small teenage unicorn squeezed her way in. She had an amber-colored coat, and when she pulled off her heavy woolen hat she revealed a wild and fiery mane.

"Sunset!" Flash said eagerly, racing forward to hug her.

"Hey, Dad," she said emotionally, holding him tightly.

"Hi, Sunset," the young dragon said eagerly. "Take your hat and coat for you?"

"Thanks, Spike. Oh, I sure missed all of you…"

"SUNSET!"

The three fillies burst out of the back room and swarmed over Sunset, chattering eagerly at her, their voices overlapping.

"Hey, you little pests," Sunset chuckled. "Look at you all, so pretty…" She scanned the room. "So, where's Mom? Where's Dinky?"

"They should be home any minute, I hope," Flash said with a smile.

Babs had followed the trio out of the back room and now stood at the front window. "Hey, yeah, she's comin' around the corner."

Sunset smiled. "Great. Listen: tell her I'm not coming."

"What?" Flash said in alarm.

"Tell her they need me at work, so I won't be coming home for Hearth's Warming Eve," Sunset said with a devious smile.

"Bu that's… that's just… that's just mean!" Flash exclaimed.

"Oh, come on, it'll be a laugh riot," Sunset said jubilantly. She dove into a wardrobe, where Spike had placed her hat and coat, and shut herself inside it.

Moments later, Twilight came through the door, Dinky riding on her back, both of them in their worn winter attire. Without a word or a moment's hesitation, Spike rushed to lift Dinky down to the floor and help her with her clothes.

"Hey, Mom," Babs said casually.

Twilight beamed at her. "Hi, Babs. Mmm, hello Flash." She greeted her husband with a kiss. "Has Sunset come home?"

"Oh, um… Sunset's not coming home," Flash said unconvincingly, his eyes darting to the wardrobe.

"What?" Twilight breathed.

"Got held up at work," Flash said with a sheepish grin.

"Oh," Twilight said, her ears flopping glumly and her entire posture sinking. "Well, that's… that's too bad…"

Sunset burst out of the wardrobe. "I'm here!" she said frantically. "I'm here, I'm sorry, I wanted to trick you, I'm sorry, Dad was right, it was mean, I'm sorry, I'm here…" She embraced her mother, who responded with a relieved sigh, hugging her with both her arms and her magnificent wings.

"Dinky!" Sonata squealed happily. "Dinky, come see the figgy pudding!"

"It's exquisite…" Adagio gushed.

"…It's all right," Aria said dully.

Twilight looked around at the many dishes simmering on the stove, and her horn lit up with powerful magenta magic, setting to several cooking tasks all at once—including tending to the pudding that the three odd-winged fillies were dangling Dinky over.

"Go on, shoo," Applejack said firmly. "Get Dinky over by the fire."

"Okie!" Sonata chirped. "Come on, Dinky, let's go get nice and warm." She and the other two set Dinky down on the ground and started helping her to limp along toward the back room.

"Yeah," Aria huffed. "Let's give the grown-ups some space to fix what passes for a meal around here."

"Yes, and if we wish really, really hard, maybe we'll do better next year," Adagio sneered.

Babs, who had been following the four of them into the back room, raised her hoof to smack Adagio, Aria, and Sonata on the backs of their heads with a single sweeping strike. "Show some gratitude for what you've got, ya punks!" she snapped. "Could be a lot worse."

"What'd I say?" Sonata pouted, wounded.

The five little fillies shut the door to the back room behind themselves, leaving Twilight, Flash, Sunset, Applejack, and Spike to continue preparing the meal—mostly Twilight, multitasking magically.

"So how was Dinky at church?" Flash asked her.

"Same as always," Twilight said with a tiny smile. "Well-behaved, thoughtful, introspective. The stories of the scripture seem to really get her mind working hard, I can scarcely tell what's going on in that head of hers." She paused, carefully choosing her next words. "She wanted to stay as long as she possibly could so that other ponies could see her… could look upon her, and see that she's sick and disabled, and… and realize that they don't have it so bad."

Flash was struck silent for a moment. "She said that?"

"Mm-hmm," Twilight confirmed, choking up emotionally. "She's just so grown-up, Flash. You know?"

Babs pushed the door open once again. "Hey, Spike, can we get some help with the fireplace for a sec?"

"Certainly!" Spike said in delight. He entered the room, revealing all the fillies gathered around the fireplace. Spike reached into the fire, arranging the kindling so it could breathe more, and adding to the flames with the green fire of his breath. Sonata tried to get close, but flinched away at the heat.

Trixie stepped forward and peered into the room to get a good look at Dinky, sitting on the floor with her braced hind leg sticking out straight at her right side. Trixie's eyes drifted to Dinky's crutch, which the trio of little fillies had set against the wall just before carrying Dinky away.

It was just shy of an hour before the family sat down for dinner. Ten chairs were squeezed together, ten plates scarcely fitting around the table's edges, but each of them were clearly at peace and accustomed to such an arrangement; there wasn't a single complaint. Steam rose off the hot dishes at the center of the table: potatoes, applesauce, stew with chives and sage, spiced cider, a huge bowl of fig pudding, and the centerpiece, a meticulously-crafted grassy and flowery salad.

"Next year we'll have a real arrangement of poinsettias," Sunset vowed. "That's what you're supposed to eat on Hearth's Warming Eve. Now that I'm working, I'll make absolutely sure that we're able to pay for it."

"I'll help," Babs chimed in. "I'll get a job this year just like you, Sunset. I wanna help make things better around here."

Twilight, at the head of the table, beamed at her daughters and levitated a glass of cider into the air. "I'd like to propose a toast," she announced, causing all eyes at the table to turn to her. "To Miss Trixie."

Sunset scoffed. "Trixie?"

"Miss Trixie, Sunset Shimmer," Twilight corrected sternly. "It's her coin that paid for most of this glorious family feast, so let's be thankful for that."

"Darling, how can you say that?" Flash said in disbelief. "How can you ask us to raise our glasses to scum like Trixie? She treats you like the dirt under her hooves and doesn't seem to care that you're practically starving."

Trixie drooped, and stared hard at Twilight, petrified with fear at what she might say next.

"Flash," the alicorn said wearily, "it's Hearth's Warming Eve. Let's not be so negative. I'm asking you to make a toast and say a prayer for Miss Trixie's health, for it's our health."

Flash didn't look entirely convinced, but Sunset lowered her head apologetically and raised her own glass. "To Miss Trixie."

The toast went around the entire table. "To Miss Trixie!"

"And to us," Twilight added. "My wonderful family, all of you. May Celestia bless and watch over us."

The family clinked their glasses together and drank deeply. When they finished, Dinky, sitting at the table's end, lifted her glass up high, balanced on the hoof of her one working front leg, and declared, "May Celestia bless and watch over… everypony!"

Joyful gasps and laughter escaped nearly everyone's mouth at that, Dinky even receiving some applause from the older members of the household.

"Oh, Dinky," Twilight said lovingly. "That's…"

She was interrupted when Dinky went into a terrible coughing fit. The awful hacking went on for ten seconds, then twenty, and the members of the family started shooting each other concerned glances. Twilight raced to the other end up the table and held Dinky tight, comforting her, running a hoof through her mane, until the violent coughing subsisted and finally faded away entirely, a process that took nearly two whole minutes. Without a word, Twilight hugged Dinky tightly and returned to her own seat. The atmosphere around the table was now tense, fearful and silent.

"Discord…" Trixie said shakily, swallowing hard before continuing. "Dinky is quite ill. What's going to happen to her? Can you see the future?"

Discord shrugged. "I see next Hearth's Warming Eve, no more than that. An empty seat at this very table. A crutch against the wall that nopony is using, but nopony has the heart to get rid of. I'm here to show you the present, not the future. But if your present doesn't change the future, then… Dinky Doo will not be with us this time next year. Her illness will defeat her. Let's not mince words: she will die."

"No…" Trixie peeped, breathless.

Discord smirked at her. "Oh, the death of a poor child isn't worth crying over. After all, there are just so many ponies in Canterlot these days, pathetically suffering." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's been said that perhaps some thinning of the herds might be in order."

Trixie edged away from his lips against her ear and stared at him with horror.

"That's right, I went there," he said gleefully. He started skipping around the table, singing. "O-oh ti-idings of co-omfort and joy, comfort and joy, o-oh tidings of—" He cut himself off and stretched his body across the table, placing his face inches away from Trixie's.

"The 'thinning of the herds' idea that's floating around Canterlot lately—if overpopulation is indeed an issue, and that is indeed the solution, whose job is it to decide who should live and who should die, hmm? You'll find that many who deserve to live"—he ruffled Dinky's hair, to which she was unresponsive, taking no notice of him—"die before their time, and many who deserve to die… They. Yet. Live. That's right, thinning of the herds doesn't seem so economic when it GETS YOU! RIGHT! HERE! Now does it?" He punctuated that dramatic statement with three jabs to Trixie's heart with the tip of his pointy eagle-like finger, and in a swirl of snow, the scene changed around the two of them, the late afternoon becoming night in an instant.

They were in another room, similarly small and threadbare, but even more so. There was hardly any furniture apart from the near-dead holiday tree in the corner, and this room was clearly the entire house. There were cracks in the walls, some of them massive, and there was an intense draft, but the family who called this little room home were singing despite their shivering… quietly, so as not to wake the three elderly mares sleeping in rocking chairs near the fireplace.

With another swish of Discord's hands, they were now under a bridge in some part of Canterlot Trixie didn't recognize. Snow blew on the wind, white specks swirling around and around against the black winter sky. There beneath the bridge, three diamond dogs were huddled around a little campfire.

"I know these three," Trixie realized. "They're my workers. What are they doing huddled under a bridge in this weather?"

"They live here," Discord said darkly. Shocked, Trixie rushed forward to get a better look, leaving Discord standing in the street far behind her.

One of the three, the gangly gray one with pointy ears and bulging green eyes, clapped his massive paws together. "Well, gentlemen," he rasped, "now's as good a time as any to exchange gifts. Fido…" He and the small brown one both lifted a single little thing wrapped in white paper, presenting it to their hulking blue-furred companion.

Fido took the object from the other two and slowly, tenderly unwrapped it. "An orange?" he gasped, holding up the juicy fruit. "How did you get this?"

The gray dog let out a raspy sound that was probably a laugh. "Wasn't easy."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Fido exclaimed, starting to peel the orange. "I can't keep this for myself. I'll have to share it with all of you."

"Heh, we almost hoped you would," the brown one chuckled.

"Here, Spot," said Fido, giving him a few sections of the orange. "And here's what Rover and I got for you." He rolled an even tinier package to the tiny dog.

"Ah, well, they say good things come in small packages," Spot said enthusiastically, unwrapping the package. "Ooooh, and they're right! A chestnut!" He held it up to the moonlight and examined it. "Look at it… it's gorgeous. Oh, this is so precious to me. I'm going to start roasting it right away." He peeled it with his claws in seconds, then felt around on the ground until he found one of several small metal rods, spearing the chestnut and holding it over the fire.

"And finally… for Rover," said Fido, handing over a third package, a narrow and elongated one.

"Oh, now what did you guys get me?" Rover laughed, unwrapping it happily. When he saw the gift's contents, he gasped, open-mouthed and absolutely stunned. His eyes became filled with tears and he put a paw over his mouth, moved beyond words or rational thought. Amazed, Trixie stepped closer and tried to get a glimpse of the item.

"Well?" Spot said eagerly. "What do you think?"

"…It's a spoon," Rover choked out. He held it up so they could see it, heaving and sobbing with joy as he did so. "For me? What have I done to deserve… riches… and a family like you?"

"Oh, don't cry, you're just going to make us cry…" Fido sobbed.

The three of them hugged and wept together. Trixie simply stared at them with disbelief as the scene changed around her once again.

She saw the city spread out beneath her, a bird's-eye view she never imagined she'd be able to experience. She didn't realize Discord was clutching her arm until he gently let her go, and she panicked at the realization that she was floating through the air unsupported.

"You're all right," he assured her. "You won't fall. How are you feeling? Comfortable?"

She hesitated, unwilling to move until she allowed herself to accept that she would indeed stay aloft. She stretched and looked around at the city. "Yes," she finally said. "Quite comfortable. That's odd. Shouldn't it be colder?"

"Oh, it should. And if you want to feel how cold it really is, just say the word and I'll do it. But fair warning, the cold is being downplayed for your benefit. In just your nightgown, the real cold of this evening would kill you."

Trixie winced. "I'll take it the way it is. Ah, by that I mean the way I'm feeling it now."

"Content with the visual aids, then? As you wish." Discord snaked his way through the air, and Trixie found she could follow him simply by trotting through the air.

"Where are we headed?" she called, raising her voice over the sound of a rather sudden gust of wind.

"Well," he called back, "as nasty as the weather is in town this time of year, it's far worse outside the city limits… especially to those ponies who have to make it that way."

Discord extended his hand, and a scene came into view out of the darkness: a black pegasus with a tall mohawk mane-style, wrapped in a rather flimsy and poorly-insulated cloak, hovering over three other pegasi—two lavender mares and another black stallion, this one wrapped in a many-layered puffy sweater. These three were flapping their wings hard, to shape clouds and blow them further into town, while the one above them was supervising, shouting instructions at them that could scarcely be heard over the howling wind.

"Wait," he called out. "Where's Rumble?"

In response, he received a frantic yell. A tiny gray colt was spiraling away, caught by a powerful gust. One of the young mares took off without hesitation to catch him, gripping him in her arms and helping him to stabilize in his flight. The supervisor quickly swooped down.

"Are you okay?" he asked the colt tenderly.

"Fine, big brother," the little one peeped.

The supervisor helped his little brother get into the line with the other three workers. "Are we good here?" he asked the entire weather team authoritatively.

"Ready when you are, Thunderlane," chirped one of the mares.

"Let's get this done!" said the other, pumping her hoof.

The other stallion nodded. "Let's do this and do it right so we can all go home."

"Well said," Thunderlane said proudly. "So—together! Everypony get into rhythm on my count—one, two, three, four!"

And to Trixie's surprise, as they charged forward together into the great thunderhead cloud that was forming, their voices rose together mightily in a carol, a rhythmic song to keep them in sync with each other.

Discord gently held Trixie's hoof and pulled her through the sky, even further away from the city, zipping through the air faster than sound until they arrived at a lighthouse on a rocky island, the snow swirling around it so thick that the night air was white.

Discord gave Trixie's leg another little tug, and they were quickly warped inside the lighthouse. There at a little table were the two lighthouse workers, stocky pegasus stallions with shaggy manes that fell into their faces, sharing a single can of warm brandy.

"Hey," said the shorter, brown-furred one, raising the can. "Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you."

"And also to you," said the other, who was taller, orange in color, and whose eyes were completely concealed by his hair.

They both laughed aloud, as if at the ridiculousness of their situation, then looked at each other with genuine affection and, like the weather workers, started singing heartily, if terribly off-key.

The scene faded to black around Discord and Trixie, and the howling winds went silent. After a few seconds, Trixie's ears perked up: she could hear laughter, wonderful laughter, beautiful and powerful. "Who is…?" she breathed, turning her head.

Abruptly, they were no longer in darkness, and Trixie could see the source of the laughter: Cadance, dressed in a splendid but noticeably inexpensive gown, draped across a cushy armchair in a small but well-furnished living room, surrounded by other ponies at all sides and laughing hysterically.

"Honey, we're waiting," a large white unicorn stallion said gently.

"I know…" Cadance choked out through her laughter. "I'm sorry, I can't stop laughing, I'm having too much fun."

"Is that Cadance's husband? He's gorgeous," Trixie remarked. "Shining Armor, wasn't it? Wow… I can't believe I've never even seen him before." She examined him, his long horn, his sturdy hooves, his elegant blue mane… then she scanned the entire group, seemingly a party of some sort: some were sharing the couch, others like Cadance's husband had big comfy chairs like her, others were simply sitting on dining chairs which had been placed in the living room. "I suddenly feel rather underdressed," she said, looking down at her nightdress. "…And old," she added, putting a hoof to her lined face. "I feel old…"

"Hold onto that thought," Discord advised. "You'll need it when I'm done with you and the next guy shows up."

Trixie did a double-take at him. "Wha… what?"

Discord shushed her and touched her chin, pushing her head so she was watching the party.

"So," Shining Armor was saying, "we know you're thinking of an animal."

Cadance nodded, unable to speak through her giggle fit.

"One that can be found in Canterlot," Shining Armor recited, "and which is savage, unpleasant, that ponies try to avoid, and… talks? Have I got everything?"

"Yep, that's what we know," Cadance said gleefully, still giggling.

"Um… um… a parrot!" exclaimed a poofy-haired pink earth pony. "No, a pig! A TIGER!"

"Tigers don't talk, Pinkie Pie," said a gray mare with heavy-lidded eyes, speaking very slowly and tonelessly.

"Oh, okay," Pinkie Pie said calmly. "Um… a whippet! A wombat! A woodpecker!" She jumped on her plush armchair, higher and higher with each guess. "A woodchuck! A woodlouse! A warthog! A wasp! A walrus! A wildebeest! A wooly mammoth!"

"Pinkie Pie," the gray mare deadpanned.

Pinkie Pie froze in midair. "Yeah?" she said casually.

"Relax."

"All right, all right," Pinkie submitted, slowly floating back into her seat. "Somepony else can have a turn."

Shining Armor beamed at the two of them and laughed. "Thanks for that, Maud. Ah, I love watching you two. Almost makes me wish I had a sister."

The entire group puzzled out Cadance's clues in silence for a moment, then Shining Armor spoke. "I've got it."

Cadance grinned. "Go on."

"It's your Aunt Trixie," he said slyly.

"YES!" Cadance whooped, pumping a hoof into the air. "Shining Armor gets it!" She pulled him close and gave him a tender kiss.

The entire gathering laughed at the answer, and Trixie slumped, disheartened.

"I should have known," another gray mare chuckled, sitting up oddly straight in a wooden chair and lifting her chin elegantly. She wore much fancier attire than any other pony at the party, who were dressed well but cheaply, her dress topped with a little pink bow tie. "Cadance, do tell us again about this aunt of yours. She really called Hearth's Warming Eve stuff and nonsense?"

"The exact word she used was 'hooey'," Cadance confirmed, nodding her head. "Also 'feh'. She says 'feh' a lot. 'Feh, hooey!' And the scary part is that I think she really meant it. She thinks the acts of feasting and gift-giving on the holiday constitute giving ourselves in to gluttony and greed. And she said that she'd believe in Celestia when she, and I quote, gets up off her divine tuchis and actually does something."

Discord raised an eyebrow at Trixie, and she hung her head in shame. "I… I did not say 'tuchis'," she muttered in weak defense.

Shining Armor sighed. "I know you're always trying to see the good in her, sweetheart, but I just can't shake this feeling that I really do not like your aunt."

"Oh, please try to reconsider that," Cadance begged pitifully. "I don't dislike her. I feel sorry for her." She stood up declaratively and addressed the whole party in a projected, carrying voice. "I've told you all how rich she is. And yet she lives in this beat-up, drafty old house, which she's never bothered to maintain… it must be a miserable place to live, truly.

"She's so terrified of losing money that she never spends a cent, and who suffers for that? She does! I invite her to a holiday dinner party, she refuses, and I ask you again, who suffers? Just herself. She does no harm to any of us, she's just depriving herself of a great dinner."

"I'll drink to that," said the elegant mare, raising her wine glass over her head. The rest of the guests also lifted their glasses, either with magic or atop their hooves, and Pinkie Pie gleefully shrieked, "BEST DINNER EVER!"

"And here comes the dessert!" Shining Armor said eagerly. "Bulk, if you would…"

A simply enormous and powerfully-muscled white stallion entered the room. He was dressed in a black-and-white maid's dress and pushing a cart loaded with various desserts.

"Everypony help yourselves," Cadance said enthusiastically. She raised her glass a second time. "A toast to Aunt Trixie. Whatever she's doing today, whatever it is she wishes… may she find happiness."

"To Aunt Trixie," the rest of the party agreed, clinking their glasses against those of their neighbors and then taking their pick of treats from the dessert cart.

"Octavia, would you honor us with a song?" Cadance said sweetly, gesturing to a cello propped up against the wall.

The mare in the bow tie looked caught off-guard. "Can I eat first?" she said, defensively holding her apple fritter close to her heart.

"Of course, of course, where are my manners?" Cadance laughed. "Enjoy your dessert."

Octavia smiled in return. "I'll be quick."

Pinkie Pie was scooping up dessert after dessert from the cart, stuffing many into her mouth and gathering even more into her arms. "Just you wait!" she chirped. "I've got so many more ka-razy party games planned! Guessing games and singing games and improv and physical MOVIN' AROOOOOUND kinda games! I CAN HARDLY WAIT!"

"Well, enough of this," said Discord, producing some odd boxy contraption covered in buttons. He hit one of the buttons, and the scene rushed away from them in a sea of static and white noise, leaving he and Trixie in an empty street.

"Hey!" Trixie exclaimed. "I was watching that!"

"You were invited to that party, you know," he said coolly. "It's not my fault you weren't there. I have a schedule to keep, there'll be no lingering." He conjured up a bundle of papers, held together by a single staple, with the title TRIXIE: A Hearth's Warming Eve Carol printed across the front page in elegant script. He flipped through the pages. "Let's see, where am I? Ah yes, Chapter Four, here we go… oh, dear." He sighed and turned his eyes derisively to the sky. "I took this gig because I'm not about to pass up an evening spent outside my stone prison, but this is the part I was hoping I'd be able to skip over… the sappy, sentimental part."

The street slipped away from them, and the mist all around solidified into a large hospital room, where a doctor and several nurses were tending to a vast number of bedridden patients.

A pale blue mare with wild red eyes and tangled hair barked like a dog as she lay flat on her back in her bed. A nurse stroked her head lovingly.

A young pegasus stallion with an eye-catching black-and-purple mane was being harnessed to a metal framework attached to a pair of wheels which touched the floor alongside his apparently immobile hind legs. When his nurse was finished securing him to the device, she nodded to him encouragingly and he started walking forward—perhaps for the first time in his life, if his smile that grew bigger with every step was any indication.

A square-jawed, silver-blue stallion was given a pair of glasses by the doctor, and he blinked through them, looking stunned at what he was suddenly able to see.

Discord stroked Trixie's head, and spoke his clearly-rehearsed lines in an uncomfortable, hasty tone. "Hearth's Warming Eve is a time to give yourself up, to volunteer yourself, to love one another as brothers and sisters, to give all you have, to bring together the entire world." He waved his hands, and the entire world spun around the pair of them, leaving them at the center of an odd, swirling vortex. "And maybe… just maybe… remembering that that's the kind of spirit we should keep all year round."

Pictures flew past in the whirlwind. A frontier town out in a desert, lacking in snow but still decorated to the brim with yuletide cheer, the settler ponies and the native buffalo mingling in harmony. The trappings of the season could be seen in the streets of Saddle Arabia and Maretonia; though their countries did not revere Celestia, the distinctive flair of Hearth's Warming Eve had leaked into their cultures, and apparently, so had its giving soul.

Deep in a hidden grotto, breezies drifted around their lush and exotic village, chirping greetings to each other in their alien language, exchanging wrapped gifts seemingly indiscriminately with every breezie they conversed with. In a smoky, barren landscape, a swarm of changelings presented a gift to their queen: an absurdly adorable, pink cat-like creature on a silver platter, who beamed lovingly. The queen considered the creature for a moment before bowing her head gratefully to her subjects… and opening her mouth to drain the life essence of the creature, leaving it a twisted and dry husk.

Appalled, Trixie shrieked involuntarily. Discord laughed. "Sorry!" he exclaimed. "Sorry." He wiggled his fingers, and the whirlwind dissolved, leaving them standing in pure darkness, Discord laughing madly, doubled over and clutching his stomach.

"Ahhh," he wheezed breathlessly when he could laugh no more. "Sweet Celestia, I had to do it." He continued chuckling, wiping a tear from his eye. Trixie weakly attempted to laugh along with him, but refused to look at him. "You get that I had to do it, don't you?" said Discord, seemingly addressing the empty black sky above. "The scene was just crying out for a bit of black comedy to cut through all that touchy emotional stuff. And we especially needed that break… considering what's coming next."

Uneasily, Trixie turned to him, waiting for him to elaborate. He was now wearing a heavy black floor-length coat with a huge zipper, his hands pressed together and hidden within the coat's huge sleeves.

"What are you wearing?" she said in bewilderment.

"Oh, I thought I'd squeeze a bit of mourning in," he said casually.

"Mourning?" Trixie demanded, her stomach sinking. "Mourning whom?"

"Myself," he said solemnly. "My time is almost up."

Those words did little to ease Trixie's spirits, and the inner turmoil only intensified a second later, her heart leaping into her mouth as she saw the folds of Discord's coat move, as if something inside was struggling. With its agitation, she could see Discord's mismatched feet, as well as other pairs of tiny hooves.

"Um…" Trixie said quietly, "not to alarm you, but I think there's somepony inside your coat."

"That may very well be," said Discord, not missing a beat. He spread his arms, and the coat unzipped by itself and opened wide, revealing two tiny fillies huddled by his legs.

They were emaciated, every rib visible through their fur, their stomachs concave and visibly churning with hunger. Their manes were tattered, and they were covered in soot, so it was hard to tell at first that one was gray and the other pink. Despite their ragged appearance, each bore an expensive-looking accessory which was in perfect condition: a pair of designer eyeglasses on one, a tiara on the other. They had a feral, savage look in their eyes, and snarled at Trixie, breathing heavily through bared teeth.

"W-who are they?" Trixie stammered.

"Silver Spoon here represents 'ignorance'," Discord explained softly. "Diamond Tiara represents 'want'."

"Are they your children?" Trixie dared to guess.

"They're the children of the world," Discord corrected sternly. "Beware them, for if they should be allowed to grow any older or stronger… why, that would spell doom for all goodly folk."

Trixie winced and averted her eyes. "Put them back in your cloak, I can hardly bear to look upon them."

The fillies snarled and hissed at her, infuriated, but Discord acquiesced, the long black robe folding and zipping up by itself, concealing them. A second later, the coat dissolved into black smoke and floated away, and when it did, the fillies were gone. "There," said Discord. "Out of sight, out of mind. But that doesn't mean they're gone. No… they're around us always."

Trixie shivered. "Is there nothing that can be done for them? To save them?"

"Well," Discord said slyly, "if I'm not mistaken, your tax bits pay for prisons and workhouses."

She gaped at him, and he cackled. "Now that's the part of this job I was looking forward to!" he howled. "Throwing your own words back at you, making you feel like the most evil witch ever to walk the streets of Canterlot." He bent over, guffawing, then glared at her harshly. "And the answer is no, they can have no recourse. They are around us, always… always… always…"

Trixie realized that Discord had somehow gained even more height at some point without her noticing. Glancing at his feet, she saw that he was standing atop a white marble pedestal, his tail coiled around it, and that his feet and tail were beginning to become the very same white marble.

He chuckled deeply as he continued to turn to stone from the feet up. He put a hand over his heart and extended the other, just before the stone froze them in that pose. His laugh turned low and bitter as first his neck, then entire head became smooth, white, and unmoving.

Trixie tilted her head in confusion, examining the statue carefully for any sign of life. Abruptly, she could see Discord's heart beat through his stone chest, but only once… at which point that pinpoint of light contracted, growing smaller and smaller… and the statue exploded, stone shards flying everywhere, shockwaves of white light erupting one after another from its base.

Trixie tried to keep her hooves firmly on whatever passed for the ground in this empty blackness, but was sent tumbling through space, through the endless void, while Discord's sinister laugh continued to echo in her ears over and over and over again.