Sledding and Other Horrors

by Carabas


Sledding and Other Horrors

I gazed upon the sledge, and tried to shake off the feeling that it gazed also upon me.

What do you mean, a smidge dramatic?

Let me explain, darling. Let me explain matters as they stood on that winter morning, when snow had blanketed the world overnight and still came twinkling down from a soft grey sky. Also, let us be on ‘darling’ terms. 

Doubtless you, a hypothetical and innocent onlooker, would have seen nothing inauspicious or troubling about the sledge. Indeed, at a first glance, you might have thought it impossible to fashion a less inauspicious and troubling object. It sat atop the hill, its runners half-sunk into the snow, the wood of its frame painted in vivid lavender. A frontispiece sported a carving of a flower, inset with little blue gems.

But I was not to be fooled. No matter the wonderful alicorn in a fetching pink-and-white scarf and hat of my own design that smiled at me and stood expectantly by the terrible object. A passing gust tousled her mane.
 
“It will slay us both, Twilight,” I said with stern surety. I was aware of her smiling tolerantly, but was not be to dissuaded. I had a conversational theme to lean into. “These are infernal engines, and they plot our ruin. My own in particular. They conspire with bumps and roots and hunt out hidden gullies, and gloat over their fallen prey.”

“Rarity,” Twilight replied.

“The only reason Princess Celestia did not banish them all to Tartarus at the time of their invention,” I said, persisting, “is because there are some evils in this world even she hesitates to contend with.”

“Rarity.”

“They can smell fear. And they like it.

Twilight, confound her, seemed to believe this was a laughing matter rather than something of the grimmest and most sober seriousness. “Come on. Past experiences with Sweetie Belle couldn’t have scarred you this badly.”

“Sweetie Belle does not know the concept of death. Her sled was all too aware of and keen on the concept of mine.” A chill gust blew, and my purple ushanka’s earflaps fluttered as I shuddered. “My life flashed before my eyes often enough that I almost grew bored of my own exploits. There were more twigs in my mane than there was actual mane. There was only one bog left unfrozen in all Equestria, and we found it. We found each and every bit of it. Sweetie regarded all this as a fantastic day out. She even asked me if she’d gotten her cutie-mark in sled-steering. I ask you.”

Twilight’s smile acquired a hint of smirk. “That all sounds terrible. But surely you don’t think any of that’ll happen with me up-front?”

“I trust you implicitly, Twilight,” I replied. “But I don’t trust the malevolent tangle of wood and rope and paint to which we’ll be entrusting our mortality, and it’ll get a deciding say in the matter.”

Twilight rested her forehoof on a runner and absently twiddled it. “I don’t know,” she said teasingly. “You did come with me all the way up this hill. I suspect you’re a bit more open to persuasion on this than you let on.”

“Please, dearest, I’m open only to dissuading you from this. You’re too pretty and beloved by the land’s most fabulous unicorn to die at a sled’s whim. Don’t do it. Come back to the boutique. I have a chaise longue and a lit stove. I have cocoa. We could cuddle.” 

Twilight was quiet for a moment. She looked at me, then at the sled, and then over my wither to where Ponyville sat under a winter sky, peaceful and glittering.

And then, at last, she sighed in an exaggerated way and turned to the sled. “Darn. That’s a pity, but alright.”

I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You don’t have to go sledding if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have pressured you, and I’m sorry. Go be warm and drink cocoa in the boutique.” She shook her head, her expression suggesting both that she understood and a deep and abiding sorrow. “I’ll do it by myself. It’ll be fine. Nopony to hold onto me from behind and admire all the breathtaking things I’ll do in the sled … but that’ll have to be fine. Nopony whispering admiring things into my ear … but I’ll try to endure. It’s fine.”

Cheating, I name it! Brazen cheating. We could have kept that discussion going for aeons yet! I could have expounded at length on the sled and its malevolence and properly exercised my theatrical muscles. She in turn, playing fair, could have soothed and flattered me in a suitably profuse way. I’d have let myself be persuaded after plenty of fun dramatics and received encouragement. And here Twilight was, cheekily short-circuiting the whole prelude and tantalising my mind with sled-board embracing.

It was masterfully cunning. I’m too bad an influence, clearly.

“If I should never return,” she said sadly, adjusting the sled with her magic, “please send out search parties. Look for my cold form buried in the snow.”

“Twilight.”

“A sad fate, but I suppose I know the risks.”

Darling.”

“Alas.”

I admit it. I surrendered first. She could have an easy victory rather than work more for it. I could respect and reward blackguard tendencies. I pointedly harrumphed, waded through the snow, and settled myself in the back of the sled, forelegs folded, my best pout on display.

“Smugness is never fashionable,” I muttered, my tone austere, as Twilight grinned in an insufferably triumphant way. She settled down at the front of the sled, resting her forehooves on the frontispiece. I leaned forward, resting my head on her withers, and pondered our voyage.

The hill curved down sharply, and then gradually levelled out into a long, gentle slope . At its far base, amidst snow-dusted trees, four distant shapes had found the time to begin work on an entire regiment of snow-ponies. From their direction, I heard Applejack’s cheerful tones enquiring as to whether the lovebirds remembered how sleds worked, and whether we were planning on coming down sometime this century. Then I believe she was cut off by Rainbow Dash ambushing her with a snowball, and scuffling and opprobrious names at Rainbow’s expense followed.

“Well.” I breathed out, and lifted my head. “Shall we?”

Twilight turned her head in my direction. And then she leaned forward and kissed me.

It lasted rather a long moment, there atop the world and the gently-tumbling snow. And when it finally ceased, Twilight leaned back and was quiet for a moment before she said, “Just in case it’s our last. Certain trusted others assure me these sleds are lethal.”

“If it tries to slay us, do slay it first, dearest,” I replied, and I wrapped my forehooves around her, feeling the warmth of her, the softness of her, the upright strength of her. “Show as much mercy as we’d receive. Shall we?”

She nodded, turned her head, and regarded the slope ahead like a marksmare. Then her horn flared, and her magic kicked us forward.

And we took flight. And didn’t perish once, would you believe.