Merry Chestnuts and a Happy New Fleur

by Prane


Chapter 11 – Promenade Wonderland

Every phenomenon conjured by the Weather Corps had its purpose. Frostbites, though, they had a reputation.

Essentially brief blizzards, they were cold, unforgiving, and their lashing winds chased everyone away—the exact reason for which they were made. With everybody indoors, there was no one to disturb the fresh layer of snow it brought. The concentrated snowfall would cover every patch of grey on the streets, every trace and trail of hooves or sleigh, and it would fix every spot where the great white had been disturbed.

Ponies would tread over that featherbed at some point. But for one, perfect moment, when the entire city was frozen in time, the scenery looked truly impeccable, glimmering under the hundreds lights.

Fleur dashed through the glacial mounds, scraping the white off the green snow packed underneath.

“So let me get this straight,” Sassy called from behind. “You had a dream in which you met a mysterious mare. She asked what would you like to get for Hearth’s Warming, to which you pretty much described a notebook that you could use as a journal. You say you’ve never met that mare before, you can’t remember how she looked, or her name, but you’re positive she wasn’t one of your friends turned into a pirate version of themselves.” She trotted forth to line up with the other mare. “And you’re telling me it was the Santa Hooves? And that Santa Hooves is really—”

“I know it doesn’t make sense.” Fleur tried her best to remember something—anything—from the dream she had. “She said her name was Sunshine, I think. Or Sunset, something along those lines. And she was… some kind of a scholar, definitely not a pirate like the rest of you. Rarity, you’ve always been good at connecting dots. Any thoughts on that?”

“Why, I do feel empowered by the idea of myself being presented as a dashing fashion pirate. There is a potential for a line-up in that… perhaps I should look into tricorne hats soon.”

“Wrong dots.” Fleur shook her head. “It has nothing to do with the issue.”

“Well then, spoilsport darling, if I won’t be inspired when I sit to the drawing board, I shall blame you,” Rarity said. “Now, the case. First, let’s assume someone really spies on our dreams to find out what we desire. That someone would need a good way of recognizing, as the song goes, who’s naughty and who’s nice”—Chestnut and Sassy hummed a related tune—“so perhaps we can divine his, or as you’re insisting, her identity from that. Since the magic of dreams is complicated to say the least, it would take a very skilled unicorn, or another magical creature to drop by Fleur’s dream.”

“Perhaps it’s someone who knows Fleur, or has a personal interest in her,” Fancy Pants pointed out. “How many magic ponies do you know?”

“Or rather, how many know me?” Fleur replied. “If we dismiss my original conclusion for a moment, that leaves us with Princess Celestia, probably Princess Twilight Sparkle, and Empress Daiyu of Shanghay. But let’s be real, they don’t even have winters, or Hearth’s Warming, and she wouldn’t exactly want to give me a present, if you know what I mean. Then there’s probably a dozen unicorns who made it big at some point thanks to their magic. Beatrix Lulamoon comes to mind first, but she’s an actress, not a dream thief.”

“Wasn’t she in Dream Thief, though?” Sassy asked. “I think I saw a poster once.”

Fancy Pants gave a nod. “She was indeed. An excellent show, exquisite costumes, great stage dynamic. And the way they used the pendulum to make the audience question their reality? Simply stunning.”

“Like I said: I saw a poster once,” Sassy said impassively. “Showoff.”

“We can scratch off Twilight,” Rarity said. “First, I would have known. Second, she thinks globally. She’d come up with a way to give everypony a gift, for equity’s sake, which we know it’s not how our Santa Hooves works. Same thing for Princess Celestia, plus she probably couldn’t keep it a secret from the castle staff.” She looked up into the clear, evening sky, as if the answer was written in the stars. “However unlikely it may be, we really have only one matching candidate, and it’s not even too far-fetched.”

“Well, she is the one watching over our dreams, after all,” Sassy agreed.

Fleur double-checked her bag for the unusual gift. It was there, under the auctioned earmuffs, and it was going to serve as a leverage. Of course ‘leverage’ wasn’t a proper word considering whom she was going to challenge, but the day had been bringing her weird experiences so far, so why stop now?

Still, asking the Princess Luna whether she was secretly Santa Hooves was kind of insane.

“I’m not saying she has to come down every chimney personally. That would be ridiculous,” Fleur said. “But she has to be involved somehow. Perhaps she’s using her magic to find out what we really need or want, and then she gives a shopping list to… I don’t know, to her guards, or aides, or whomever. Someone else packs the presents, someone else again delivers them, no one can spill the beans because no one knows the entire secret. She probably has a whole network of Santa helpers!”

“I think your musings have grown into a full-fledged conspiracy, dear. I’m not convinced that’s a good thing.” Fancy Pants furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s your plan, anyway? Are you going to walk up to her and straight claim she’s Santa? Let’s say she is, a mastermind behind the last few years’ surge. She’ll undoubtedly want to keep it a secret, so she’ll deny everything. Which is still a better outcome than if she has nothing to do with it,” he said. “Did it occur to you that playing nosy around royalty may not be the best of ideas?”

“You’re worried about my reputation, is that it? That I’ll make myself an idiot?”

“Frankly, I’m worried that I’m working for the government under that very royalty.” Fancy Pants laughed dryly. “I rather enjoy my job.”

“I can be tactful.” Pretending to be serious, she nudged at Rarity. “So, about that pirate lineup, you’re going to need a model or what? My husband’s getting laid off.”

“Hilarious,” Fancy Pants deadpanned.

Fleur would never endanger her husband’s good standings with either of the Canterlot alicorns—or her own, assuming she had any—but he was making a good point. She couldn’t just play her cards and hope for the best. The last time she played an actual card game with bravado she lost it all. Thankfully, it was at a casual, mares-only table where you could still come on top after losing all your chips. All it took was a casual line about certain ponies not having luck in cards, but finding it in love and leaving the singles green with envy. And probably a few married ones too, given Fleur would be next seen with Fancy Pants.

Fun times at Las Pegasus!

They were back at the T-shaped crossroads connecting Emerald Street to the Promenade when Fleur realized she didn’t have an actual game plan. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“You’re going to need a compass or what?” Rarity echoed. “Oh. You have no idea where to look for her, do you?”

“Not even a slightest,” Fleur admitted. “I thought we could maybe go to the castle and request an audience?”

Only Rarity’s high standards stopped her from rolling her eyes. “Well, no. Fortunately for you, I possess certain knowledge when it comes to princesses and their busy schedules. I once spent half a month at the castle perfecting Hearth’s Warming decorations, naturally with my eyes and ears wide open,” she said. “On the Eve, there are two places either of them can be. First is the pageant, to which we can’t go because we have no tickets. I mean, I’m certain we could get past the guards—”

Non! No funny business around the Royal Guard,” Fleur pleaded.

“As you wish. It’s Princess Celestia’s turn to honor the show with her presence, anyway. Now, the second place is obviously the Victory Plaza, but Luna may not be attending the festivities formally. She once told me she enjoys mingling with the common folk, surprising them as they come and go,” Rarity explained. “It makes you think. It’s been six years and she still has to fight very hard for her right to walk among us without being feared.”

Fleur noticed that Chestnut had something at the tip of her tongue, but said nothing.

The pieces were coming together. Six years since the Summer Sun Celebration and Princess Luna’s return to Equestria. Six years since random Canterlotians started getting gifts from an unknown benefactor. Coincidence? Fleur thought not. Taking the dreams and making them come true, having virtually inexhaustible resources, working in the shadows—then, when everything was put in place, stepping back into the light among the common folk. And what better place for Santa Hooves to hide than in plain sight of the Victory Plaza? Participating in the traditional tree decorating event would be an excellent cover.

Fleur took a mental step back. She could as well be taking it too far. She didn’t have any substantial proof.

“By the stars, I’m running a foal’s errand.” She turned around to face her friends and family. “I may be stepping into quite a faux pas here, so if any of you would rather stay out of it—”

“Oh, quit it, Fleur,” Sassy said. “We all want to know who the mysterious Santa is. I certainly do!”

“A foal’s errand or not, Hearth’s Warming is about spending it with your closest ones, is it not?” Fancy Pants said, and Chestnut quickly nodded. “We’re with you. And even if you won’t get Princess Luna tonight, it’ll be nice to see the tree for a change. Just… make sure your faux pas will be easily excusable.”

“You’re the captain of this enterprise, Fleur,” Rarity added with a cheeky grin. “In my experience, there’s nothing like a little adventure to get inspired, so I’m definitely on board, so to speak.”

“Oh, are we doing sailing puns now?” Sassy cheered. “Hornswaggling haulers… or… something! Raise the anchor!”

“And set course for the Plaza,” Fleur commanded with adamant resolve. Yes, she could probably get used to captaining a crew. “I got a really nice present. It feels only proper to thank someone for that. Personally.”

Cruising through the unstirred surface of the Promenade’s white ocean was no easy task, but the ponies had their eyes on the prize. In the distance, there was a soon-to-be shining beacon of hope, a giant green tree partially dotted with bulbs, chains, and lights ready to illuminate the night. It stood tall, surrounded by ponies anxiously waiting for their turn in decorating. Others, young and old alike, played in the snow or looked for and greeted their acquaintances with mirth. Without any trace of negative emotions in the air, everyone was wishing each other merry season, even, or perhaps especially, when they hardly knew those they bumped into.

Such was the atmosphere reigning over the Victory Plaza, a wide plateau in urban scenery, like a clearing in the forest. The tree was set right next to a fountain in the middle. If Fleur remembered correctly… no, she couldn’t recall what kind of victory that fountain commemorated. But she could name a dozen bridges in Pearis in case someone asked about famous battles. Someone? Anyone? Well, of course it was useless knowledge.

“Let’s ask around if she was seen here,” Rarity proposed. “Ooh, decorations! I know where I’m needed!”

“Dibs on the food zone! All those roasted nuts made me hungry,” Sassy exclaimed, trotting to a stand serving chocolate pinecones.

Fancy Pants waved at a half-circle of opinionated socialites discussing the tree. “Some familiar faces over there. I’ll see what I can find out about the princess or if they heard about anyone getting a mysterious gift this year. Surely we can’t be the only ponies on the case.”

“Good idea. Chestnut, you’re with me—allons-y!

Around the fountain, Fleur’s maternal instincts kicked in. She was still unused to those sudden jolts of compulsion to help, protect, and take care whenever she was alone with her daughter. This time it came with a bonus shade of embarrassment impossible to notice in the cold. She forgot! With all the excitement over the recent discovery, she totally forgot what Doctor Hugs told her about Chestnut and her rather… unique opinion regarding Equestrian royalty.

Gently, she leaned over the filly’s ear. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Nutsie. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” Chestnut quickly replied. “I’m fine, it’s just, uh, it’s been a long day, that’s all. It’s fine.”

“Is it, though?” Fleur led her away from the thick crowd and leveled with her. “Speak honestly. Is it about me trying to find Princess Luna?”

“K-kind of.” There was a slight tremble in her voice. “It’s just… she doesn’t exactly look, to me at least, as a pony who gives you anything, if you know what I mean. I think what you said about your dream makes sense, but I don’t really see her as Santa Hooves. I would think another pony should be Santa Hooves. A kinder one,” she added quietly.

“In case I find her”—Fleur chose her words carefully—“would you rather not be around when I talk to her?”

“I’m not afraid of her!” Chestnut replied vehemently, as if her raised tone was meant to compensate the lack of conviction in her yellow eyes. “I’m just… super not fond of her.” Puffing her cheeks, she exhaled loudly. “Doctor Hugs talked to me on my last day at the Orphanarium. I’m sure he talked to you and dad, too. He told me I should talk to you about this, because without him around I should have someone else to talk to about things that are difficult to me.”

“I am here for you. Me and dad, we both are. Anytime you need.”

Chestnut brightened up. “I know, and it’s cool that you are. I promise we’ll talk soon. Just… not today, okay? It’s the Eve, after all!” She gave a crooked smile. “You should have your fun too. You need to find the princess and discover the secret, like Daring Do does in her adventures. It would be lame if I stopped you from doing that.”

“Are you sure?”

A truth as old as time—when adults were asking the same question one too many times, younger generation had only one response: a prolonged groan of boredom, which was a good sign as long as they weren’t also trying to push said adults away. It seemed that whatever concerns chased Chestnut, she intended to outrun them. Fleur didn’t want to push either, so she made a mental note to unearth the issue soon. As much as she admired her daughter’s care for others, she was responsible for her now, and that went beyond teaching her how to handle the high society.

“Yes, mom. I’ll stick with dad or Misses Rarity or Sassy,” Chestnut replied. “But I will be keeping my eye on you.”

Fleur wrapped her hooves around Chestnut in a hearty, reassuring, love-transferring embrace.

“You are a brave pony, Nutsie. I’m proud—”

She was cut out by a grey blur that appeared out of nowhere, jumped and pinned her to the cold stone of the fountain. The blur had a shape of a familiar earth pony who took Fleur and Chestnut’s side during the last Canterlot Elite evening. Though she was generally considered a quite collected pony, bearing innate delicacy and elegance as much as her pink bow tie, this time she looked like she’d just seen a ghost. Pale as a sheet on her face, she was breathing heavily. If she was being chased by concerns of her own, she was definitely losing the race.

“Fleur, I beg you, you have to help me!” Octavia pleaded, supporting herself with a cello-shaped case. Her heavy breath was coming out in mist clouds. “It’s Hyacinth. She’s coming after me!”