Night had fallen on the Kingdom of Ice Ponies. The temperature had fallen to below freezing rather quickly, the howling of the winds swirling powdered snow through the air, while a single flame hurried over the ice bridge connecting to the Noble Cliffside. Warrick Hearth, Coal's son, was rushing home as fast as he could to see his fabled uncle to which he was named after.

The stories his father had told him in his youth, about the battles, the adventures, the victories his uncle had achieved had inspired him on to be a Soldier Pony; never believing to have the opportunity to see him face to face. It was believed by his family that General Hearth had died during the Mad King’s war, and without contact with the Ashen Fields, no pony ever questioned it.

Warrick had been born in the Frozen North, he knew the cold from the moment he was brought into this world, and how unforgiving it could be. The freezing temperatures had once pained him, the cold biting at his hide, but it only made him fight harder; his strength growing along with his flames. Becoming a Soldier Pony was to bring honor to his family, to honor the House of Sleet, and carry on the legacy that his uncle had left behind.

Reaching the large marble doors, that carried the giant platinum seal of runes marking the House of Sleet, Warrick rapped upon the doors waiting for Kirk to open up. Sure enough, the gate opened to him, Kirk waiting just inside.

"Lady Frost told me that my uncle is here, General Warrick Hearth of the Ashen Fields." Warrick replied looking for some confirmation.

"Indeed, sir, he is currently speaking with your father at the staging area." Kirk informed him.

Coal and Hearth sat together on the stone platform staring out over the frozen hillside. It was bedtime for the young Henrik, Samson, and Lily; their mothers putting them to bed. Tinder and Drake elected to stay behind, to assist with the preparations of the feast the Sleet family was preparing in General Hearth’s honor; giving Coal a chance to speak to his brother alone.

It was no secret that Coal and Hearth had never seen eye to eye about anything. Hearth was their father’s favorite, his eldest son, the heir to his legacy, and the Commander of the King’s army. Coal knew that Hearth never wanted the life of a Soldier, but their father pushed him to do so. So when the time came to escape from the Mad King’s wrath, after the death of their father and the destruction of their home, Coal couldn’t believe that his older brother had chosen to stay.

Hearth turned to him, letting him continue, knowing that whatever he was going to say was years of unresolved feelings towards him.

"What... I said to you... when you refused to come with us... I was angry and..." Coal said slowly.

“Don’t lie to me. It was the last time we spoke to one another.” Coal replied quickly; not wanting to avoid the conversation.

"How long did it take you to reach the Frozen North?" Hearth asked curiously; steering the conversation once more.

"I... I say about... nearly a month?" Coal replied thinking back on it. “But that’s not what I wanted to-“

"It took me nearly two years to finally hear that you had made it to the Frozen North; safe and sound." Hearth stated with a smile. “I have my friend Argo to thank for that information.”

Coal didn't really know what to say, it seemed like Hearth was building up to something.

"In those two years, I didn't think about what you had said to me, and I wasn’t all that worried about you not reaching the North.” Hearth continued. ”Because I knew you would protect them, that you would make sure that they got there safely, and when you did reach the North, you’d be there to support them."

Coal took a deep breath; feeling himself beginning to turn emotional. In his youth, his jealousy of his older brother, the attention his father had given him, had burdened Coal with the need to prove his worth to them; wanting nothing more than to be recognized. As he grew older, with the North’s cold cooling his jealousy, he began to realize his mistake in judging his brother. For Coal had become the eldest of his house when reaching the North, having to make decisions on behalf of his house, be the figure head of the family, his actions shaping the way ponies looked upon their house. It was all things their father had required Hearth to do, and it was clear that such a life was not one any pony willingly chose.

“It’s only been half a day and I’m still being lectured by my older brother; it really feels like nothing has changed.” Coal said with a chuckle.

“Father would have been proud of you, Coal. For everything you did, and everything you done here in the North. I’m proud of you, and that has never changed.” Hearth said quietly; placing his hoof upon his shoulder.

There was a sudden sound of snow being crushed under hoof. Kirk Summerland escorted Warrick up to the stone stage where Coal looked surprised to see him.

“Good evening, father.” Warrick said aloud; although his eyes seemed to be focused upon the unfamiliar pony beside him.

“Warrick, I wasn’t expecting you home until dinner.” Coal stated looking surprised.

“Lady Summer should be arriving on time as usual, Lord Coal.” Kirk informed him.

Kirk bowed his head before heading back towards the house. Coal gave his son a one armed hug, Warrick doing the same. General Hearth climbed down the steps of the stage amused by how certain features of Coal’s son reflected a younger version of himself. Coal quickly stepped aside, standing beside his son, ready to provide introductions.

"Allow me to introduce my son, Warrick Jericho Hearth, a Captain of the Royal Guard, champion of the Wendigo, and hero of the Shattered Bluff." Coal introduced him.

Warrick felt his titles paled in comparison to his uncle, knowing that there would be a long list of titles and honors that would precede him. Coal placed his hoof upon his shoulder, smiling at him.

"Warrick, this is my older brother, General Warrick Hearth, your Uncle." Coal referred simply.

"General, it is truly unbelievable that I am able to meet you. I’m sure father has under sold your achievements for the sake of time, but rest assured that he was spoken volumes of your heroic deeds." Warrick said excitedly, shaking Hearth’s hoof.

“Did he ever tell you how he dented your grandfather’s suit of armor?” Hearth asked curiously looking towards Coal who seemed to suddenly remember this particular embarrassing part of his life.

“You dented grandfather’s armor?” Warrick asked curiously, smiling at his father.

“It was just a ding within the metal, it was hardly noticeable.” Coal said trying to down play it.

“Your father begged me to distract your grandfather long enough to have it fixed before he found out what had happened.” Hearth continued, amused that he could play the embarrassing uncle.

“What did you do, father? Did you wear it out on patrol without grandfather knowing?” Warrick asked sounding interested.

“The important thing is that I got it fixed, and our father was none the wiser.” Coal stated, looking rather flustered.

“I told him that I would help him only if he told me how it had gotten damaged in the first place.” Hearth informed him.

“Was it a fight with an Owlbear? Or perhaps a Bugbear?” Warrick asked curiously.

“Nothing quite so heroic, for you see our father’s trophy room was nothing more than a shrine; something our father would come to look at from time to time. It was also the perfect place to be alone and have no pony bother you.” Hearth started to explain to him.

“Hearth, why are you doing this to me?” Coal asked looking rather miserable.

“I still don’t see how the armor was damaged.” Warrick said looking unclear.

“I had- well-“ Coal cut in quickly, but found himself struggling to put words together.

“You could always ask your mother, I’m sure she remembers this story quite clearly.” Hearth said amusingly.

A light went on in Warrick’s head. The sudden flare of his father’s mane, his flustered look, Hearth laughing at his uncomfortableness, it all made sense to him now.

“If you breathe a word of this to your mother she’ll have all three of us killed!” Coal hissed cutting him short.

“Honestly, I don’t remember if they simply knocked it over or if Coal was wearing it, but-“ Hearth began again, but was suddenly grabbed by Coal who wrestled him to the ground trying to keep him quiet.

Warrick laughed to himself. His father was always so stern, only ever showing his softer side on rare occasions, and there had always been a sense of regret that lingered with him. Watching his father attempt to bury his uncle Hearth in the snow, he could see a very different side of his father, and how much he cared for his older brother.

“Having fun, dear?” Scoria asked aloud from the threshold of the large houses backdoor.

Coal perked up quickly. Hearth was rising back to his hooves, snow melting from his head, still chuckling to himself.

“Your soldiers in training are demanding a bedtime story.” Scoria told him aloud.

Coal nodded his head in understanding. Turning to his son, Coal gave him a quick nod before turning to Hearth who was already hugging him.

Coal stepped away from them. Heading back towards the house where Scoria waited for him. Warrick could see his mother waving to him, he in turn waved back nodding his head to her.

“So father and mother dented grandfather’s armor?” Warrick asked looking amused.

“I’m sworn secrecy, your mother told me never to tell what had happened.” Hearth replied with a smile.

Warrick really didn’t know what he was expecting when he would meet his uncle, he imagined him to a much harder pony then his father, more rigid, and unfeeling. Yet, this pony that had fought for forty years of his life as a soldier, seemed so calm, and complacent.

“You’re a Captain in the Royal Guard then, are you?” Hearth asked, giving his nephew a chance to speak of himself.

“Yes, sir. I’ve been in the service of the Kingdom for nearly six years now.” Warrick said promptly.

“Are the stories my father told me about all of your great deeds true?” Warrick asked sounding very interested.

“There were so many, I can’t really choose just one.” Warrick replied honestly.

“Has your father ever told you of some of the great deeds he’s done?” Hearth asked curiously.

“My father claims to have never done much when compared to you. I do see him as honorable pony and a personal hero of mine, but our family name rests solely on your achievements.” Warrick answered sounding proud.

“It is… difficult not view the 'Hero of Black Winter' as the most accomplished member of our family.” Warrick informed him, trying to word his thoughts correctly.

“When I was the General of King Scorch’s army, before he went mad, I left my daughter alone for several days at a time. The Kingdom needed me, the soldiers, the patrols, the defense, the spiders that crawled from the caves, the meetings, the slate work, but I was so determined to never have another Black Winter; that I justified my choice.” Hearth began sounding very solemn when he spoke.

Warrick knew this story well. Of how his aunt was one of the casualties of Black Winter, how his heroics during that battle had earned him the title of General, and how it was the only time his father had seen his older brother cry.

“On days that I did see her, she wouldn’t really talk to me, I knew she was angry, and it pained knowing I’d hurt her when I’d leave her again.” Hearth said sadly.

“I’m sure my cousin, your daughter, now understands the reasons of what you had to do.” Warrick said, trying to sound comforting.

“It was only until she was to be married to one of my soldiers that she opened up to me. She wanted me to know that she didn’t hate me, that she understood why I had to be gone all those times, and who had helped her through those times.” Hearth mumbled, his voice breaking.

“She told me her uncle, your father, would come see her every day I wasn’t able to. He would come early in the morning to be there when she woke, to make her breakfast, make her lunch, and send her to school. He was there when she got home, he would ask her about her day, make her dinner, and put her to bed with stories of the ‘great deeds’ I had done for the Kingdom. He did that every day until she graduated from school, by then she was old enough to be on her own, but he still came to see her every day just to make sure.” Hearth said in quiet surprise.

Warrick looked towards the house, knowing his father was telling his younger cousins the same bedtime stories he had told him. Possibly the same ones he had told his older cousin all those years ago.

“Your father never once mentioned it. My daughter believed that I had asked him to do it. I had no idea.” Hearth said shaking his head in disbelief.

“He knew you were doing your duty, and tried to help the best he could.” Warrick stated; getting a forced laugh from his uncle.

“General Warrick Hearth, pride of his family, leader of the armies of the Ashen Fields, hero of Black Winter, Champion of the Last Orc’s Final Move, the savior of the Dark Years; it’s nothing but yak spit.” Hearth mumbled bitterly.

“The only pony who is worthy of being considered incredible is your father for being there for my little girl. For taking care of her when I could not, being a father when I couldn’t, being her savior and hero when I failed to be. It’s why he bears the symbol of our house, and it’s the reason you carry it too. Hearth is the symbol of one’s home, it represents family, and your father saved ours.” Hearth stated proudly.

Warrick was surprised to be hearing this. Believing that he would be hearing the exploits of his uncle’s youthful adventures, only to have learned something about his father he had never known, and how much his ‘famous’ uncle cared so little of his own exploits.

“I’ve… not done anything that would be considered as noble a deed then what my father has done. I can hardly say that anything I have done can be measured up to you either.” Warrick stated looking rather disappointed.

“Y-Y-Yes, to Lord Sleet’s daughter Wendy Sleet.” Warrick said quickly, surprised that he knew.

“The greatest deed a colt can do is love his family. I learned that from your father, and I believe you will follow in his hoofsteps to become a very honorable colt.” Hearth said in a matter of fact tone.

“It’s going to be rather difficult; I don’t have any wings and my father can fly.” Warrick replied jokingly.

“Yeah, I was… always jealous of your father’s wings.” Hearth admitted with a grumble.

“Father had mentioned that on one or more occasion.” Warrick replied with a smirk.

“I mean, I’ve got a feather in my cutie mark, and no wings. Why even bother with the feather then?” Hearth asked looking rather disappointed.

“I’m glad that I’ve gotten this chance to be able to speak with you, Uncle Hearth. I feel that I’ve known you for so long, and I am happy to say that I’m honored to be named after you.” Warrick said appreciatively.

“That’s kind of you to say. Unfortunately, you’ve got your father’s looks so whoever this Wendy is, is either attracted to misshapen faces or just feels sorry for you.” Hearth said with a smile.

Warrick stared at his uncle in disbelief and surprise; not expecting him to throw jabs his way.

“Well don’t tell your mother I said that, I’d like to make it to dinner.” Hearth replied heading towards the back door of the house.

“Did you know my mother at all, before they left for the North?” Warrick asked curiously, following him.

“Scoria never liked me. She loved Coal. Whenever Coal and I got into arguments she would always be there to take his side; taking the time to explain to me how ‘wrong’ I was. I knew she loved him, which was enough for me to know that she would take care of Coal and keep him in line when I could not. Aside from that, your mother and I never really spoke.” Hearth explained to him.

“Mother has always been determined; she accomplished whatever she set her mind to. This is why I feel that I have gotten to be where I am today. It’s also helped me focus on my dream to become the General of the Frozen North; much like you did in the Ashen Fields.” Warrick told him beginning to follow.

“Well you’ve got a lot of catching up to do because my granddaughter is already the General of the Ashen Fields.” Hearth replied with a smirk.

“Your granddaughter is a-a-a-a-a G-G-G-General?” Warrick stammered in shock; freezing up on the spot.

“She must be a year or two younger than you, but I’m sure you’ll catch up.” Hearth told him reassuringly.

“H-H-How did she get to such a position? Especially at her age? It’s practically unheard of.” Warrick asked in disbelief.

“Well that’s a really long story, but it all began when the young Prince Smolder left to steal the Elements of Harmony.” Hearth began to reminisce.

Within a lavish corridor within Castle Fjord, draped with flowing banners that hanged from the ceiling depicting the the cutie marks of past Ice Pony Royalty. Busts made from ice, sculpted to depict the ponies that carried them, were perched upon stands beneath each banner, and giant hoof painted portraits of each passed family member adorned the walls behind it. Princess Sapphire made idle chit chat about each of her ancestors, glossing quickly over their achievements, before reaching two familiar portraits with banners and busts of their own.

"This is mother and father's place. The current Lord and Lady of the Kingdom of Ice Ponies." Princess Sapphire explained briefly.

There was a collective 'ooo' that followed from Tea, Florence, and Chapel at the level of detail put into the ice sculpted busts. The portraits of Lord Tundra and Lady Frost were separate from one another, hung side by side to reference the union of the two, but each depicted a different sort of personality.

Lord Tundra's was a full portrait, from head to hoof, wings extended, revealing the broadness of his size. The background was a barren tundra of snow and ice that had no other reference for the eye to connect with other than the painted eyes of Lord Tundra towering before them. It was to invoke such a feeling of submissiveness in the beholder, to show that the Lord of Ice and Snow was without equal on such a field.

Lady Frost's portrait depicted a much more humbling sort of scenery. Once more a full portrait of Lady Frost, although seated among hundreds of frozen flowers, her wings feathered with light of the sun bringing a warmth to the painting. It seemed very inviting, as if the painting encouraged the viewer to approach her. It was clearly stylistically designed to show the two polar opposites of each ruler, of how one depicted compassion, reverence, and wisdom, while the other displayed power, superiority, and dominance.

"Do you have a portrait of your own, Princess Sapphire?" Chapel asked curiously.

Stepping a few paces to the side of her mother's portrait; the walls were bare of any portrait beyond her. There was a stand empty of a bust, and high overhead was a banner depicting her own cutie mark.

"Traditionally, it is when a Prince or Princess are wed that these sort of things take place. There are some circumstances where the portrait is done earlier, but I have put off having mine done for some time now." Princess Sapphire explained rather sheepishly.

"Well..." Princess Sapphire mumbled uncomfortably. "When I was arranged to marry Smolder... the Royal Painter insisted I have my portrait done, but I wasn't willing to go through with it."

"The... the... portraits are meant to depict the personality, the achievements, presence of each Royal Family member. Father's portrait is one of pride, strength, and resilience, while mother's is that of beauty, nurture, and love. I haven't... found... myself yet." Princess Sapphire tried to explain her reasoning to them.

"I've always been a 'Princess' but I've never really 'done' anything other than what I was told to do. Mother and Father spent years together, discovering their passions and strengths; being defined through such things." Princess Sapphire explained to them as they walked on.

"While you were just going through the motions?" Florence asked, guessing at her hesitation to the portrait.

"Yes! I want to do something with my life before some pony decides that its over." Princess Sapphire stated.

"Yes, well, when you're a Princess that has just been recently dumped by a suitable Prince, you can imagine the outpouring of sympathy that comes from every Noble colt imaginable." Princess Sapphire groaned at the attention she would be getting.

It wasn't much more of a walk before Sapphire turned left at the end of the corridor where two large marble doors, spliced with crystals, stood before them.

"This is my room." Princess Sapphire announced, flushing slightly. "I... I don't normally have company over, but I hope that it will be to your liking."

Princess Sapphire's horn began to glow, the doors opening to them. The sheer size of her room was something to be marveled at, it could have easily fit Tea's apartment at least three times over, and still have space.

There was an enormous chandelier that hung from the center of her room, adorned with hundreds of gems and jewels that spotted the ceiling with their colors from the light of the fireplace that burned generously. The fireplace itself was tall enough to step into, the mantle carried several accommodations, awards, and plaques of her achievements in the Frozen North's Academy and the Royal Army. The room was filled with furniture, even its own dining table with no less then twelve chairs all gilded in crystals. Her bed had dozens of pillows, her mattress was that of a Yakistan King, with a classic Princess Canopy of white silk that draped down from the high ceiling to ripple like water across her Savannah Cotton sheets.

There was so much more to her room, from a CEO pony's desk, to centuries old dressers that were brimmed with one of a kind dresses commissioned in her honor, but there seemed to be a quaint nightstand near her bed that seemed rather cluttered with things that Princess Sapphire most likely concerned herself with.

Florence and Chapel had forgotten everything they ever learned about being humbled, racing off into her room to marvel at the fact that they stood within a real Princess's bedroom. Princess Sapphire didn't seem to mind, she crossed her large room to the over-sized desk that had a mound of unopened letters waiting for her and busied herself with sorting them. Tea was rather blown away by the luxury that Sapphire was privileged with, but found herself wandering towards the nightstand to pry a bit further.

Upon further inspection, Tea found a silver picture frame that held a picture of Sapphire and her parents together; she was just a filly when it was taken. There was a lot of junk cluttering the tabletop, everything from crumbled up pieces of parchment, bits of makeup, a few books, a piggy bank in the shape of a chicken, a couple of cups of old stale water, and what appeared to be a diary. Tea's eyes narrowed at the diary, looking over her shoulder from the corner of her eyes to see where Sapphire was, and glanced back at the book trying not to look interested.

"Oops." Tea said almost robotic like; purposely knocking the diary off the nightstand. "I will get it."

Quickly crouching down, Tea found the diary had fallen open upside down. Taking it, she flipped it over to whatever page it had landed on and glanced over the pages.

Dad's never home anymore, those stupid Yak's are always wanting to roughhouse during their bi-annual 'Stomping of the Snow' festival that lasts for two weeks. Two weeks! Mother is always busy doing all the work while he's gone. Chancellor Stone is always keeping tabs on me, making sure I don't skip class, or eat anything unhealthy. Every pony keeps asking me for things, tell Father this, ask Mother this, remind Father about the contract, inform Mother of the meeting. I just want to be left alone... I just want my Mother and Father back.

Tea looked up at the top of the diary to see that the date was nearly ten years ago. It didn't seem like Princess Sapphire was all that happy being a Princess, but from the way she carried herself now it seemed like she learned to hide it very well. Flipping some pages forward, Tea noticed that there were several blank pages that followed rather quickly. It seemed that Princess Sapphire didn't keep a constant record in her entries. Tea flipped a few pages back to see that the date was a bit more recent, being only five years prior.

I got to see Father today. He told every pony he came down with the flu just to be with me. Mother didn't approve, she wanted to be here as well, but she was forced to cover for Father. We spent all day sculpting together. I've been practicing everyday so I can show him how much better I've gotten. I sculpted him my first real figurine of Mother, he loved it so much that he asked if I would sculpt him one of himself. Father never calls me Princess, he never speaks to me formally, unless we're in front of Nobles, he calls me Snowflake and I love him for it. I promised him I would sculpt him a figurine of every pony in the castle, so we could eventually sculpt Castle Fjord together and have every pony where they normally would be.

Snapping the diary shut, Tea smiled to herself, knowing what it meant to have ones father around to dote upon you. Truthfully, Tea was looking for something about Sapphire's first impression upon hearing she was to be married to Smolder, but ended up taking a small glimpse into the sort of life she had growing up. Tea strolled away from the nightstand, having not been caught by any pony, as she approached Sapphire who was still sorting letters on her desk.

"You could say as much." Princess Sapphire sighed looking annoyed with the letters. "A letter from the young colt mare from House Powder, another letter from the colt of House Chill, a couple of decrees that Mother has left for me to read and make an informed decision on; the rest are basically more colts looking for the chance to meet with me."

"Can I read one?" Tea asked curiously looking at the rather generous pile of 'love' letters.

"Why would you want to-" Princess Sapphire began, but Tea had already tore open the envelope.

Chapel and Florence had both been trying on some of Princess Sapphire's dresses having overheard Tea.

"This is completely disrespectful to the colt that wrote such things in confidence that-" Princess Sapphire started once again, flushing at the term Juniper Berry.

Trying to reach for the letter, Tea was quick to move out of her reach and continued to read the letter aloud.

"A fortnight ago I stared upon the waxing moon, being reminded of your misty mane, tasting the sweet nectar of juniper berry juice from my cup, wishing it were thy own lips to which I could drink in the savory flavor of your ravishing beauty." Tea read on with the biggest smile upon her face.

"What did you do to that poor colt's heart?" Florence asked eyeing her suspiciously.

"That is none of your concern! I demand that you stop reading that letter at once!" Princess Sapphire shouted flushing furiously; trying to get by Florence and Chapel who acted as a buffer for Tea to get away again.

"I lay awake for days at a time, longing for your sweet words to grace my lonely ears once again. Your very words shook the foundations of my soul. I only wish to feel the warmth of your breath upon my neck again, as you leaned close to ask me, 'Pass the salt' when we dined together- Sweet Celestia! Pass the salt? That's what you said to him?" Tea exclaimed in a fit of laughter.

At this point, both Florence and Chapel were doubled over in a fit of giggles at the idea of Princess Sapphire innocently asking a Noble Colt to pass the salt and how flustered he must have been to have experienced such a 'steamy' request.

Princess Sapphire's face burned a deep purple, her embarrassment having hit an all time high, unable to form words to suit the rage she was feeling for them. Looking about her room, she looked for something to throw, the dining room table was too much, as well as any blunt instrument, feeling the the price of repairing such antiques didn't justify her humiliation.

Tea, Chapel, and Florence were suddenly pelted by several dozen pillows knocking them flat to the ground. The letter from Tea's hoof was thrown upward, Princess Sapphire's magic quickly taking hold of it and folding it back into its envelope.

"This was a complete breach of a pony's personal and private message for the intention of poor jesting and-" Once more Princess Sapphire was cut short with the sudden thud of three pillows striking the side of her head.

Turning to face them, Princess Sapphire could see Tea, Chapel and Florence taking cover behind the turned over, three hundred year old, wooden coffee table, armed with several stacks of pillows.

"That coffee table is an antique and should not be used in-" Princess Sapphire began before a well thrown pillow nailed her in the face.

A sudden swell of magic erupted from Princess Sapphire's horn, the pillows around her began to levitate, her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Throw down your arms or be mercilessly beaten with the soft fluffy texture of my goose feathered pillows." Princess Sapphire commanded them.

"Go jump through a hoop, Princess Juniper Berry!" Tea cried in excited anticipation.

There was a sudden flurry of pillows being thrown at one another, feathers flying in all directions, and the unbridled shrieks and screams of their laughter that followed.

The Phoenix King

by Turtlehaus

Chapter 36: Titles and Deeds