//------------------------------// // Chapter 14: Hearth’s Warming and the New Year // Story: Larkspur Blossom // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// Lark found out the main reason his circle of friends had been invited was because most of their parents were invited. The Waltz household was absolutely packed Hearth’s Warming Eve. The tables were full of food. There was… a full keg of beer and another on reserve… in addition to an open liquor cabinet. Lark was glad they had walked. Lark was glad his aunt and uncle had made friends with the parents of his classmates, but it seemed his aunt and uncle knew more about his shenanigans than he wished. Their families talked. Valley and Copper weren’t there. In fact, it didn’t seem any foals under their age were there… or any older. It was just Lark’s circle and a couple other students he knew of, but didn’t really know, from Windy’s class. A few of his friends had older siblings but they were off at their own parties. Misty’s parents had a foalsitter for her four little sisters, and most unusually, Ms. Pearlshine was watching Valley and Copper. Lark heard from more than just a couple ponies, reliable sources or not, he didn’t know, that Ms. Breeze Pearlshine was a mess at parties in her younger days. Every bad drinking story he’d heard from older ponies seemed to include her doing something outrageous. He was torn between wanting to see this and not wanting to see. Whatever the case, she’d been invited but politely declined. It might have been a sight, but probably a sight her students needn’t see. Lark was unconcerned about his aunt and uncle. They drank little and just didn’t seem to enjoy it that much. Windy’s parents were there and one of the first things he learned about them was they were teetotalers. He shouldn’t have judged, but he figured a globetrotting, “beatnik” geologist and a “model” chemist with a flair for looking wild would imbibe. Briefly introduced to his friends’ parents he hadn’t met, Lark and the foals were shepherded downstairs to be left to their own devices. Their parents had adult things to attend to. But there was plenty of good chow and drink downstairs. Hoofing a root beer and snapping off the cap, Lark looked around. Other than Windy, Medium, Thunder, Misty, Daisy, Light, and Sherry, there were a couple other foals. One of them, Cypress Cork, “Cy” to his friends, was a longtime pal of Light. Lark didn’t know him well, but knew he was something of a class clown, using his unicorn horn to its full advantage. The other colt he’d never met but had seen him. He was an old Pegasus friend of Medium, named Dust Devil. Despite his name and fiery mess of a mane, Lark quickly came to realize he was about the nicest colt he’d ever meet. Dust and Medium were in class together since kindergarten and this was their first year apart. Medium’s parents had an interesting basement. They obviously liked to entertain, with a billiards table, a ping pong table, and a pinball machine. They also had a full bar setup downstairs, all its contents locked up or upstairs, that was solid oak. The stereo was tuned in to a local station playing Hearth’s Warming Eve tunes, droning in the background. Lark had played billiards a few times and he wound up playing on a team with Light against Cy and Misty. Thunder and Sherry held a game of ping pong while Daisy watched. Everypony else sat around and chatted. The pinball machine was on the fritz, so there was no playing it. Lark didn’t think this a bad way to spend an afternoon. After losing to Cy and Misty (Misty having lots of experience on the table in question), Lark went for another drink. He looked around, not having thought of Medium for a while. He espied her grinning deviously near the bar… As he guessed she might try, she had a sprig of mistletoe. He thought to himself, at once amused and worried, What’s her game? As he went on, talking with his friends, he noticed just what she might be up to: it appeared she was strategically sticking it to different places in the rafters. Her idea must have been to get Light and Daisy under it at some point… But would she announce it to the group or trust somepony would notice it and give into the old tradition. As he had on the way back from the resort trip, he worried Thunder might try to mess around with him; it was her way. But that was if anypony even noticed. Misty probably did. Maybe he’d talk to her. Then again, as far as he knew, neither Medium nor Misty knew he overheard talk of “playing matchmaker” back at the resort. Deciding to not worry about it, he’d watch out for it himself, as not to get stuck underneath it with anypony. Still, he thought he might share the ploy with somepony. “Windy… do you see what Medium’s up to?” Sitting on a sofa, snacking on the veggie tray, she smirked, “You noticed too? Yeah… I wonder if she’s gonna blurt it out when she had what she wants or trust somepony to notice?” Lark chuckled, “I was thinking the same thing… Do you think Misty notices? She’s had an eye out for Medium’s schemes lately.” “Maybe,” she mused. “Until you said something, I was just gonna watch out for the trick and see what might happen.” Sometimes they did think alike. They sat, trying to hide their amusement and knowledge. Around this time, Thunder and Sherry, both terrible at ping pong, gave up the game. Now that everypony was standing around, Thunder considered the room. “So… what should we do next?” Medium, as if she had been waiting for an opportunity to do something other than being creepy, “Since we’re all here, let’s play… truth or dare.” This got Lark’s attention. He’d never played the game but knew what it entailed. Looking around the room, nopony looked at odds with the idea. In fact, he noticed some most dubious expressions on a couple of the girls… Oh, boy. The only one to fret, though still eager to play, was Sherry, “My parents said they didn’t want me playing that game, but… whatever. Let’s play!” There was a murmur of ascent, and a few nasty chuckles around the room. Misty, predictably, wanted to set up a few rules, “Fine, but I name the rules.” Medium conceded, “Sure. We know you’re fair. Let’s hear.” The rules were as follows: they would spin a bottle to see who went first. There were 10 foals there and everypony had to be asked a question before being asked a second question. Nothing really crazy was allowed. This was especially true in dares. Nothing dangerous that would really compromise anypony… Questions of truth were to be kept within reason, but that was more a courtesy than a requirement. They sat in a circle, Lark next to Windy. Daisy took up on his other side and Misty was directly across from him. Lark had just finished yet another root beer, so he supplied the bottle. Medium took center, setting down the bottle, “Okay. I’m going to use magic to spin the bottle around. Then I’ll let it go and it lands where it lands… I won’t mess with it after the spin. That goes for Light and Cy… No messing around with magic.” She sat down and spun the bottle. It went round and round, stopping on Daisy. Taking on the giddy demeanor they occasionally saw in her, she giggled and stared about the room. Lark really wished she’d lighten up like this more often. It was nice to see. “Misty… truth or dare?” All eyes turned to Misty. Lark hadn’t played, but he heard one wasn’t supposed to ask for a dare for a while. He figured she’d ask for a 'truth'. And she did, “Truth.” Lark never knew Daisy to be of lascivious or otherwise devious nature, but he’d be learning an awful lot of things about his friends on that day… Daisy rubbed her hooves together, “Okay… What would you do if you were a colt for a day?” This wasn’t the kind of question they’d expected from her, but as Lark would, everypony would see things in a different light soon enough. Misty hoofed her mouth, thinking, the rest eager, “Hmm… I’d try to pee my name in the snow.” The room rocked with laughter. Misty didn’t blush often, but she was now. She even got a few hoofs on the back. But now it was her turn. “Medium… truth or dare?” Medium did a take. Misty was up to something… She could tell. The rest noticed Medium looked a little worried. Misty pressed, the ghost of a smile on her lips, “Medium?” Medium thought this might be a losing proposition either way, but, “Truth.” Misty didn’t look disappointed, “What’s the most childish thing you still do?” Medium again did a take. That’s it? She was worried her “little plan” would be exposed… or something else that she couldn’t quite put her hoof on, but was worried about. As for the rest of the room, this was a good question, ripe for a good answer. “Well… I… like to sleep with a nightlight…” Medium mumbled. The room, at least a couple of foals, groaned. That wasn’t that unusual. A few of them did that. Medium gawked, then laughed, “Seriously? I thought you’d all call me a baby or something! I suppose it’s not that bad… So, uh… Lark! Truth or dare?” Taking the “safe” way, “Truth.” Medium looked positively elated, “What’s the grossest thing that’s ever come out of your body?” The group cringed. What kind of question was that? What was Medium thinking? Lark had expected something worse. There were so many things to ask and she goes for something gross? Still, this wasn’t a big deal. “Once when I was really young, I ate about 10 bits. It was pretty gross when it came out again…” They all cringed, Windy hooting with laughter next to him. Lark hadn’t been embarrassed, but hearing her laugh… he felt a little heat creep into his face. Regardless, Lark felt he got off easy. Back to the game… He was curious about Sherry. “Sherry… truth or dare?” Sherry squeaked, sitting bolt upright with a tint of red on her cheeks. Lark still thought it funny. She was the tallest foal in 5th grade, the fastest runner in class, and full of vigor. But she was truly a shy filly. Lark had nothing mean in mind. He just wanted to have fun. Sherry did the unexpected, “Uh… dare?” And it was unexpected. Hadn’t she heard the unspoken rule? Never go with a dare on your first question! Still, she had never played, so nopony thought much of it. And they knew Lark wouldn’t be mean. Lark found himself glad he was the one giving her a dare; he wasn’t so sure some of the fillies in the room would be so kind, “I dare you… to attempt to do a magic trick.” Sherry looked relieved, even giving Lark a thankful look. For all the times he said it was okay and that he didn’t hold it against her, she was still in a way convinced he hated her for the concussion. Lark wished she’d stop feeling that way… Perhaps choosing her for the question had sent the wrong message… However skilled Sherry was at running, jumping, and other things, she wasn’t very good with her hooves. She had a clumsiness other foals found… endearing. Other than her shyness, it was one of her few “faults”. Medium supplied her with a deck of cards she found behind the bar, upon Sherry’s request. Sherry also donned a bathrobe Medium found in the bathroom. Sherry, managing to balance on her back legs and blushing a little, cleared her throat and spread her hooves, “Today, the Magical Sherry will…” Nopony would know what she would do. All the cards spilled out of one of the sleeves, floating across the floor. “Whoops…” Everypony laughed, while Sherry grinned shyly, “Ta-da.” It took a couple minutes to clean up the cards, so everypony had a few minutes to freshen up their drinks and snacks. The game went on, with little offense, and soon everypony had made it through two turns. Things were getting a little more… interesting. As it turns out, Thunder was terrified of bugs. Those close to her knew, but Lark sure didn’t. Windy once broke an antique vase and lied about it. Dust had this weird crush on his cousin when they were little foals, but that isn’t that odd… Daisy farted loudly when she met Princess Celestia; she was surprised, and it slipped out. As the game entered its third round, Lark continued to monitor Medium’s little game. The mistletoe hadn’t moved in a while, but he was sure she was still up to something. Windy knowingly glanced at him, both wondering if anypony else had caught on. They smirked and went about their business of playing the game. It was Dust’s turn now. The mild-mannered colt thought a moment. “Windy… truth or dare?” By this time, everypony had gotten into a groove and was ready to play the game. Windy looked back at him evenly. “Dare.” The foals oohed and ahhed. Windy was only the second of the fillies to choose a dare. Lark wondered what it might be. Dust had been pretty easygoing, but he had no idea what the colt might cook up. His dare was creative, if potentially boring. “I dare you… to compose a short poem right now.” A few foals groaned. They were expecting things to get juicy. A couple of the fillies would have had her kiss the pony to her left… or at least it was something they wanted to see. They’d probably have no problem with it. Lark, sitting on that spot, wondered what Windy would come up with. Windy had a creative mind, but he hadn’t known her to do this kind of stuff. Windy gave a little smile. They watched her for a moment as she muttered to herself, smiling a little. Opening her eyes, they sparkled mischief. “There was a young filly named Patches Who chanced to be born with two snatches, Said while hitting the flask, ‘Is it too much to ask For a stallion with tool that matches?’” Lark couldn’t believe it. That. Was. Amazing! To his surprise, Sherry especially laughed hard at that, while the rest of the foals groaned in disgust and amusement. Looking over to Thunder, she looked like a cherry. Even Medium, known for her occasionally gross sense of humor, was floored. Light and Dust, colts not known for enjoying disgusting things, guffawed. Lark would have been okay if the mistletoe was above them right then. He could have kissed her for such hilarity. Windy sat there, grinning shyly, obviously reveling, yet regretting her nasty little poem. It was a brilliant way to turn a possibly boring dare on its ear. But now it was Windy’s turn to ask, “Medium… truth or dare?” Medium looked uneasy. Just what would Windy pull after that? Neither way seemed safe and the rest of the foals noticed her apprehension. She had a nasty feeling neither way was safe. But… she wanted juicy. She couldn’t chicken out at her own house party. She gulped, “Dare?” Windy looked bemused. Had she hoped for a truth? “Well, I was hoping for a ‘truth’, but I have another idea. I dare you… to spin the bottle. Whomever it lands on… you have to transfer an ice cube from your mouth… to their mouth!” Medium blanched and the room gasped. This was a big deal and Medium knew it. She’d heard of variations of this dare, where she’d have to do something like that with the pony on her right or left. Sitting between the only other unicorns there, both colts, that could have been… something. The game had really taken a step up. But she wanted juicy… she got it. “Okay. Somepony get a clean ice cube.” She went up and spun the bottle, while the rest looked on in trepidation. It was a fair spin, not manipulated by magic. It landed on Daisy. And Daisy looked none too pleased. But she wasn’t going to chicken out either. Thunder brought a cube, blushing profusely. The only foals looking at ease were Lark, Light, and Windy. The rest looked as if they wished they were elsewhere. Misty looked especially worried. This was getting… dangerous. Medium took the ice cube and tried to hold it between her front teeth. She had trouble keeping it there, so she had to hold it within her mouth. Sitting across from Daisy, it was hard for the rest of the foals to decide who looked worse. Both looked as if they were about to eat farts, or something. Daisy leaned in, “Okay… let’s get it over with…” Medium whimpered as she went for it. Everypony looked on in curiosity. Windy had an unusually feral look about her. Daisy had opened her mouth, quivering. Medium was just about there, when she dropped the ice cube, blushing profusely, and scampered away. “Oh, I just can’t do it!” Everypony groaned. It was rather uncouth for the host to chicken out at her own party. Daisy looked relieved but knew this wasn’t cool. Medium sat back in her previous spot, shaking, looking both ashamed and afraid. Windy imitated a siren, “Penalty, penalty, penalty!” Medium and the rest knew what this meant: since Medium had chickened out on a dare, she had to do something else. Procedure for such punishment was not well understood, but it was ultimately up to the one who dared the unwilling recipient. Windy asked Misty, more of an expert on the subject, how to proceed. “Well,” Misty pondered. “You could just give her another dare… You could even ask ‘truth’… Or you could give her an in-game punishment. She’d have to comply for the rest of the game.” Medium looked even more worried. Windy had been… different that day. Windy considered her friend. She felt…a little bad about the dare. She knew Medium wasn’t one to dish out what she couldn’t take, at least most of the time. Medium was always a good sport about everything, so if she flat out refused to do something, she must have been really uncomfortable about it. Windy saw Medium’s worry. Windy didn’t want to embarrass her, but she wanted Medium to learn a lesson… not about the game, but about something else. It was an opportunity to end some potential trouble. “Medium… I dare you… to not prank anypony, or otherwise stir up mischief, for an entire week... Starting now.” The room gasped. That was a pretty savage punishment! Medium was aghast. She glared at Windy, locking eyes with her. Making sure nopony else could notice, Windy motioned with her eyes to the ceiling. Medium understood… She’d been found out. At least Windy didn’t announce it to the group. Looking back, her idea to cause trouble was… rather insensitive. Windy was merciful, especially after Medium chickened out. Still… “Windy… does it have to be a whole week?” Medium simpered, a little grin visible at the corner of her mouth. Windy considered, “Well… I was thinking about having you kiss one of the boys…” Another gasp was raised. The colts looked at each other nervously, while the fillies tittered. Medium, now flushing about as red as was possible, eyed Lark… just him. He noticed, feeling his blood run cold. Medium giggled, shifting in her spot, “Well… that might not be so bad…” Windy cackled, “Too bad! I’m going with the prank ban.” The room laughed at Medium, half-seriously begging Windy to reconsider. Lark felt himself safe. With the group settled down again, and the penalty’s service beginning, they continued their game. After a few minutes, Lark noticed Medium’s horn glow. He looked to the mistletoe, in its hiding place, go poof. Lark smiled, good girl… He looked to Windy, trying not to look too satisfied with herself as she eyed him. He grinned back, good work. Things continued without offense, and after several hours, it was time to go home. A lot of their parents were pretty toasted. Thankfully, they either walked or called taxis, Medium’s parents confiscating keys. Lark gathered up his aunt and uncle, bidding Medium and her family a Happy Hearth’s Warming. Lark’s aunt and uncle were chatting with Windy’s parents, as they left out the front door. Lark was standing with Windy and he said, “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Windy. Wanna meet up after… what?” Windy was looking above them. Lark looked up as well. There was a sprig of Mistletoe between them, hanging above the kitchen door. Lark mentally kicked himself; he'd noticed it before going downstairs and forgot about it. Windy began to flush. Lark did the same. He put a hoof behind his head, chucking nervously, “Well… I hear it’s bad luck if we don’t…” Windy began to shuffle before him. He’d never seen her look so nervous. “…” Lark sighed, “No big deal. I know it’s silly-” Seeing nopony else was watching, Windy put a hoof to his lips, silencing him. Her eyes darting around once more, “Oh… what the heck?” She put a hoof on his shoulder, standing on her tiphooves, and leaned in, kissing him. Lark saw stars and fireworks went pop, pop, pop in his mind. Windy, backing up with a silly grin on her face, giggled. Wrapping her scarf around her neck, “Well… Happy Hearth’s Warming, Lark. And I do want to meet up after Hearth’s Warming is over. Call me.” With that, she bolted, as much as she was able, out the door and after her parents. Lark stood there, dumbfounded. And he might have for a while if his aunt didn’t call. “Lark! Let’s go!” Well… Lark guessed it wasn’t the first time a filly planted a kiss on him. But it was his favorite occasion so far! He ran out to join his aunt and uncle. Hearth’s Warming Day had been nice. They didn’t exchange many gifts, but Lark and his family enjoyed themselves with it. There just wasn’t much they needed. After a very nice brunch, Lark and his sisters played in the yard. A couple inches of fresh snow fell late on the Eve, so they contented themselves building snowponies. They’d spent the rest of the day with their aunt and uncle, reading and enjoying each other’s company. The days leading up to the new year were fun too. Lark and his friends dragged the toboggan to the biggest hill in town and rode some. It wasn’t as thrilling as the resort had been, but it sure didn’t cost them anything. A special treat for Lark had been meeting Daisy and Sherry at Windy’s where they sat around reading music scores. It sounded very strange to the rest of their friends, but it sure was a good time for them. Lark looked out of his bedroom window. It was New Year’s Eve. While he could have gone somewhere to play with his friends, or some party, something compelled him to stay home. His aunt and uncle, ever since their first New Year’s together, had spent the night at home. It was quiet there, and they had each other. It wasn’t the idea of leaving them alone, with or without his sisters to watch over, that bothered him. He wasn’t sure what it was. He looked to his clock. It read 11:39 p.m. In less than 21 minutes, the new year would begin. He found himself thinking. Not even five months… It hadn’t even been five months since Dad died. Lark was a little surprised to realize he hadn’t thought of him much. He couldn’t say he felt guilty about it. He… He didn’t know what to think of his old man. He never… he never really knew him. He kept a roof over their heads and they were never in need… of anything but a dad. Lark suddenly felt very upset. He pulled off his glasses. And he sat on his bed, crying softly. He still wasn’t sure why he was so upset. It baffled him, but as the writer keeps saying… Lark was only a colt. Just an 11-year-old colt… What’s wrong with me? Why now? I didn’t feel like this at Hearth’s Warming. But that’s the thing about a new year… it always stirs up memories, even in ways other holidays can’t. Hearth’s Warming had a pony thinking about their entire life, that which they could remember. But a new year… had ponies thinking about the old year. And what a year it had been for Lark… The first half was unremarkable. Other than being a little older than before, and in 4th grade, it was not unlike anything he could remember. As far back as he could remember, he watched over his sisters. It took him many years to realize this wasn’t normal. By the time he did… his dad was gone, and Lark found himself on a train, with his sisters, to Vanhoover. But since then… he’d made some friends. For the first time in his life, he had real friends. And he loved them. He loved Thunder. He loved… Windy. He really loved Windy… He enjoyed school, possibly for the first time in his life… he really enjoyed school. And he was happy. Before moving to Vanhoover, he didn’t know what happiness really was. He wasn’t unhappy, particularly, but he wasn’t happy. Trying not to think too bitterly about his dad, Lark realized, as he had many times recently, just how good things were then. The clock read 11:55 p.m., now. Lark decided to go downstairs and wish his aunt and uncle a happy new year. They were in the dining room together. Walking by the couch in the living room, he saw his sisters, snuggled up in a blanket together. They’d been allowed to stay up to see the new year. He smiled to himself. He'd figured they wouldn’t be able to do it. Lark entered the kitchen. His aunt and uncle were talking, sipping on wine they’d cracked open. His aunt smiled, “Hi, Lark. Are the girls sleeping?” Lark smiled, “Yes. They were so excited. This was the first time they were allowed to stay up.” Uncle Star chuckled, “They were talking a little while ago, but I figured they’d doze off. They really tuckered out at the park today.” Lark thought about that. He had taken his sisters to the park. Valley had fun being launched from the swings, seeing how far she could glide without flapping. Aunt Fairy looked concerned, “Lark… are you alright?” Uncle Star noticed too, “…” Lark thought he’d done an okay job wiping his face. He’d figured on giving his aunt and uncle a short goodnight and heading back upstairs. The dim light throughout the house should have hidden the evidence of his crying. He saw no point in lying, “I… was upstairs thinking… about the year. And I felt… strange.” He couldn’t think of any other word to say. “Strange”. But there was nothing strange about it. Aunt Fairy moved over a chair, beckoning Lark to sit between her and her husband, “Lark… please join us.” Lark would rather have petted a shark but did as he was bade. Uncle Star, unable to think of anything worth saying, tried anyway; it was worth something, “Lark… Please tell us what’s bothering you.” They both knew what was bothering Lark. They’d known for a time, and it worried them some. Lark usually seemed okay, but they knew he was holding onto something heavy. It was something he’d been unable to cope with. Lark still wasn’t sure exactly what was bothering him. It was so foreign a feeling. Aunt Fairy put a hoof on his shoulder, “Lark… we love you. We love your sisters. Having the three of you here has us realizing… we’ve missed an awful lot of good years we could’ve had.” She laughed, a few tears appearing in the corner of her eye, “I wish we’d had a few foals of our own. I truly wish that now. But we can’t turn back time. What matters most is what’s here now… and where we go in the future.” Uncle Star gave Lark a firm kneed to his other shoulder, the fatherly kind, “Lark… having you and your sisters here has been the best thing that’s ever happened to us.” He realized the gravity of what he just said, but it may have been the push Lark needed, “I only wish happier circumstances had brought the three of you here.” It was the push Lark needed. He began to quiver a little, his eyes heating up again. He wrapped his hooves around his aunt and uncle’s hooves. “I don’t remember much before Mom died… I remember her voice a little… and the ballade she always played on her violin. But… I can’t remember anything else about her. All I remember is Valley and Copper, crying… Crying for… Mom. Or Dad… Somepony. I didn’t want them to cry… or be scared.” He wasn’t aware at first that he was beginning to cry, “So, I did anything I could to help them. I changed them… I read to them… I taught them to read… I… saw them to their first day of school… both of them. And… Dad wasn’t there. When they cried… he wasn’t there. I didn’t even know him. I remember the look on his face when Mom died, though… He was gone…” Lark sniffled, not letting up, “That day… my sisters were at a slumber party. I was making dinner for Dad. He called me into his study. He told me… he was proud of me… I’d never heard him say anything like that. I wish I’d said, ‘I love you, Dad’, but I couldn’t… I just said I’d go finish his dinner… When I went to get him…” At this point, Lark came unhinged and fell apart; his voice came out choked, “How could he do that to us? How could…” Years of grief poured out of him. His aunt and uncle, crying a little themselves, joined together in an embrace, with their nephew in the middle. They embraced him as a son, as the new year came in. Lark sat in school, the first Monday of the new year. He was feeling better than he had. After… wishing his aunt and uncle goodnight, and a happy new year, he was so drained he had to be helped up to his room. But they tucked him in, staying there until he fell asleep. The next day, nothing much between them seemed to have changed… except Lark felt better. He felt… closer to his aunt and uncle. They felt closer to him. And that was no small thing. He greeted his friends and other classmates. Some of them, he hadn’t seen since the last day before break. He realized he felt good, sitting there. Hearing his classmates chatter about the good times they had over their long vacation filled him with a satisfaction he couldn’t place. Sometimes... life was just good. Ms. Pearlshine, pretty as ever, walked into the classroom. The class went silent as she called for attention. “Good morning, my little ponies.” “Good morning, Ms. Pearlshine,” they replied. She smiled, “I hope you had a nice break. Let’s begin today’s lesson.” The new semester had begun.