//------------------------------// // Ch1 beginnings [edited] // Story: Jake and the kid // by peter //------------------------------// Author's Notes: Fimfiction does not seem to want me to list Sad and Comedy together. As this is principally a comedy I have gone with that, but there will be sad moments here and there for flavoring and blatant reader manipulation. This is also a slow story that will take a long time to reach major milestones. I hope I have made the journey entertaining for you. Jake and the Kid: "My Little Pony, Friendship is Magic" Fan fiction. My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, and the characters were created by Lauren Faust, bless her. Various other characters like Pumpernickel Rye and his wife Lamina were created by Georg. Read his stuff. Really, you will enjoy it. Jake and the Kid Chapter 1 - Beginnings In the beginning: It was a dark night. The stormy part was still a couple of hours away. Despite that, the wind was already howling through the trees and rattling the loose shingles on the old barn that slumped in the middle of the clearing. It was surrounded by a stand of tall trees, their branches bare in the chill November night. Long branches reached out like grasping claws the tips of those closest rubbing against the moss-covered shingles. Clouds scudded through the sky hiding and revealing a bright full moon and sending the tree’s shadows skittering through the clearing and inside the barn as the moonlight filtered through old dusty windows. Inside the barn, a young Percheron stallion shuffled nervously. At eighteen and a half hands high he was tall, even for one of his breed, but still fairly slender, not having come into his full growth yet. His black hide blended into the darkness so that sometimes only the whites of his eyes rolling from side to side in trepidation were visible. Every now and then he shied as shadows chased across the dusty floor and climbed the walls. He was all alone, except for a solitary hungry mouse scavenging for seeds in the straw covering the floor of his stall. Jake wasn’t scared. He was a destrier. Big sister Curry said so. His great-grandpa had carried knights into battle with dragons. Jake didn’t know what dragons were, but from the way Curry talked about them, they were a lot of scary wrapped up in a ton of mean. But Jake’s great-grandpa hadn’t been frightened, and so he wasn’t either. Besides, Curry was a knight, she’d told him so herself, and he could never be scared if she was with him, even if they were facing a dragon. So, no, he wasn’t the least bit scared just because he was alone in the dark. He was just a little worried. It had been over a week since he had seen Curry or Old Ben. Strangers had been by to see that he had food, and his stall was cleaned out. Not that it would have needed to be cleaned out if they hadn’t locked him in. He flushed slightly at the memory. If only they had given him free rein of the barnyard to take care of business properly. Curry was going to be so mad at him, Jake thought, with more than a touch of shame. It had been months since he had an accident, and now it had been five days in a row. Jake shuffled his massive feathered feet in the clean straw covering the floor of his stall, scaring the life out of the scavenging mouse who squeaked in panic. Jake danced backward slightly at the faint noise till his rump bashed into the back of his stall. The planks bowed from the pressure put on them by over a ton of skittish horse. There was a groan of overstressed timbers and Jake hastily moved forward slightly. He stood shivering slightly, not daring to move his hooves for fear that they might come down on something soft, squishy, and crunchy. A frantic rustling in the straw drew a snort of relief from him as his unexpected guest vacated the premises with all due haste. A sudden creak from the barn door caused Jake’s ears to flick up and swivel toward the sound. His eyes widened and he tossed his head in fear as he once more tried to crawl through the back of his stall. What looked like a miniature haystack was slipping through the door. As wide as it was tall, there were no distinguishing features. Jake felt his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the monster from the woods was finally coming to get him. Goodbye Curry, goodbye Old Ben. ‟What in tarnation has got you all in a dither, you overgrown pony?” a high pitched, derisive voice asked from the shadows of the blob. Jake’s fear vanished and he tossed his head in anger. *I ain’t no darn dang, pony!* ‟Then quit acting like one,” the figure said in a familiar voice as it stepped into a pool of moonlight. A huge red fluffy winter coat nearly dragged on the floor, its puffy folds hiding all hints as to what might be underneath it. An over-sized Stetson was shoved down on top of the mound, held firmly in place by a long scarf that disappeared under the collar of the coat. The two articles of clothing left only a small slit through which a pair of lively green eyes stared out at Jake. ‟I declare, how such a big fellow like you can be so skittish is beyond me,” the figure grumbled as it shoved the sleeves of its coat up past a pair of small work-roughened hands. It unwound the scarf from around its head and swept off the over-sized Stetson to reveal a mop of tangled reddish-blond hair that looked like birds should be nesting in it. The green eyes were bracketed by a tanned forehead, a snub of a nose and cheeks liberally sprinkled with freckles. A small scar marred the center of her forehead. *Curry!* Jake neighed loudly as vision confirmed what sound had hinted at. He stepped forward to thrust his head out over the stall door. The flimsy wood bowed outward with a groan as he pressed his chest against it but this time he ignored the sound. ‟Course. Who else would I be but me?” Curry said, unzipping her over-sized coat and pulled it open with a sigh of relief. She’d felt like she was about to cook. Cool as it was outside, the coat had been a bit of overkill, meant for much colder conditions, and a much larger wearer. It had been a bit like wearing a portable tent. Jake’s eyes widened this time in surprise rather than fear as he took in how his big sister was dressed. Was that a . . . Dress? And black tights with black flat-heeled shoes. What on earth? ‟You needn’t go looking at me like that,” Curry said, flapping the front of her coat to cool herself. ‟Tweren’t my idea to dress so foolish,” Curry said in a disgruntled voice. ‟Stupid busybody, going and packing away all my proper clothes like that,” she muttered. Jake’s nostrils flared as Curry’s efforts to cool herself off sent a wave of overpowering floral scent wafting toward him. He snorted and leaned forward to get a good stiff. *Smells good.* he said, memories of spring fields filled with wildflowers popping into his mind. ‟Yeah, I know, I smell worse than a darn skunk,” Curry said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Curry could not remember a time when she did not ‘talk’ with Jake. She knew others thought she was just playing, like some fru fru girl with her dollies, but she knew better. Maybe Jake could not speak, but she knew him better than anyone. His every twitch and body movement spoke volumes to her, and it was natural for her to provide him with the words he couldn’t say himself. Like right now, when it was obvious he thought she reeked. Now that Jake’s surprise was retreating, he remembered that he had been left all alone for ever so long. He pulled his head back inside the stall and turned slightly sideways as he adopted a nonchalant pose. He twisted his head away from Curry, apparently finding the side of his stall fascinating. Let her see what it felt like to be ignored. Curry grinned as Jake pouted. She knew how to fix that. ‟Aww, now don’t be like that, Jake,” The ten-year-old crooned in a sweet voice that some boy at school had once called real nice, but only once. She’d taught him good. ‟Look what I brought you,” Curry added. She stuck a hand in one of the capacious pockets of her coat and held up a hand. Jake twitched his head slightly. Just enough to look and see what Curry was offering. His eyes opened wide and he snorted in eagerness when he saw she was holding a large, juicy, crunchy, sweet, delicious, scrumptious, APPLE! Jake’s pose of indifference vanishing quicker than the frightened mouse had. Curry was clearly very sorry for leaving him alone all this time. It would just be plain rude to not accept such an obvious, heartfelt, apology. Jake leaned out over his door and delicately lipped the smooth cool fruit out of Curry’s hand. Drawing the cool fruit between his teeth he crunched down with delight, savoring the texture and the cold sweet juice that filled his mouth as he pulped the crunchy apple between his massive teeth. As Curry observed Jake’s pure childlike enjoyment of his treat the tightness in her chest eased slightly. She had missed the big lug so badly over the past week. If she’d been able to she would have dragged a sleeping bag out to the barn and bedded down in his stall. But, they wouldn’t hear of such a thing. There were lots of other things they wouldn’t hear of. Like Curry mucking out the barn, or wearing comfortable clothing and boots. Or skipping a bath when she really didn’t need one for at least two or three more days. She had thought the neighborhood ladies were just being their usual prissy selves, at first, but then she’d overheard the conversation between them and old man Sedgwick. She turned her head and spat in a ritual manner from just thinking of the bane of her existence. Curry had been sitting on her bed, trying once again to keep the tears from flowing. She had just come back from the funeral and this was the first time all day, heck, the first time since she had been called to the principal’s office a week before, that she had been both awake and more than a few steps away from an adult. A familiar and hated voice had roused her from her introspection, and she had crept out onto the landing that ran in front of all the rooms on the second floor. From that vantage point, she had peered over the railing into the common room that took up most of the first floor. A gaggle of the good ladies from town, along with the bucking social worker who had been trying to take her away from Old Ben for the last six months were there. As was Old Man Sedgwick. Her arch enemy. He might have fooled Old Ben, but Curry knew he was pure evil. He’d do anything to get his hands on Jake. He was always telling Old Ben how Curry needed a properly sized pony instead of a great big lumbering lug like Jake. Sure, maybe it would have been nice to have a horse she could ride, she thought for a moment, and quickly dismissed the traitorous thought. Maybe Jake was too big for her to straddle, but he was far superior to those nasty tempered spoiled ponies at the boarding stables. Mind you, it was old man Sedgwick who had taught her the words she used to get around Old Ben’s injunctions against swearing. That had saved her a few warm backsides. But, that was back before she caught on to his wicked nature. She wondered what they were all doing here. She focused on listening as hard as she could as their words floated up to her. ‟For the last time, no, Mr. Sedgwick. It is out of the question.” ‟You don’t understand, Ms. Endora. You can’t expect Curry to stay put. There is no way in he . . . hay, you’re going to be able to keep her someplace she doesn’t want to be. She’ll be heading straight back to that horse of her’s the minute your back is turned.” Curry startled. What was this about heading back to Jake? She wasn’t going to be leaving to be heading back. Ms. Endora gave the old man a look, that if it had been on any other person would have given Curry great satisfaction. At last, someone else who understood what a stinker he was. Even the other ladies looked like they wanted to side with him against the social worker, but didn’t dare. Being as how it was Ms. Endora, however, Curry was seriously conflicted. She had no more liking for the busy body than she had for Mr. Sedgwick. He might have been trying to get his hands on Jake. But, in a way, that was perfectly understandable. Jake was the best horse in the whole world. The social worker, on the other hand, had been trying to place Curry in a more suitable home. As if any other place could be better for her than right here. There was no rhyme or reason for it, other than being a nasty old busybody who couldn’t stand seeing a kid happy. Her next words pretty much confirmed that for Curry. ‟I assure you, we are well practiced in dealing with difficult children. Besides which, her trust fund gives us more leeway than is usual in these cases. She will be moving into her great-uncle’s home on the west coast. A governess has already been hired to look after her. Her living situation for the last nine years has been intolerable. I swear, the girl has the devil in her. A complete break from this life is for the best.” The information that Old Ben had another house was news to her. As was the trust fund, whatever the heck that was. Far more critical, however, was the information that she was to be moved, taken away, and a long way away at that. She had just assumed without really thinking about it that she would stay at Old Ben’s place and her life would continue on just as it always had with the exception of Old Ben no longer being here. It had been bad enough losing the great-uncle she loved so dearly, to lose Jake as well. That was unthinkable. With Curry, an action often came before good sense could hone in and quibble over her plans, and this case was no exception. She was going to see Jake, right now. Which sort of left her with a bit of a problem. She wasn’t really dressed proper, and her coat was hanging by the door not five feet from all the adults. To make matters worse, all her good clothing had been packed away, leaving her with nothing but a few useless going to church and special event outfits. Such as the one she was currently wearing. She solved this problem by snagging Old Ben’s winter coat from the back mud room, and as an afterthought his old, much loved, Stetson and scarf. Taking a half dozen fall apples from the bin by the door had been more reflex than a considered action. Curry hadn’t thought about much beyond getting to Jake. But, on the quarter-mile walk up the mountainside to his barn she had time to think, a little. And by the time she reached him, she knew what she was going to do today. She and Jake were going to run away together. ********************************* Bon Bon, Ponyville’s premier designer of picture-perfect confectioneries for the discriminating shopper, was feeling extremely pleased with herself, and life in general. It had been a beautiful day outside and an even better one inside the candy shop. The weather had been just the sort to get ponies out of their homes and promenading around town. The sky had been blue with only a few nicely arranged decorative clouds hanging in the sky. The temperature had been in that comfortable range, not so hot as to make a pony sweaty, not so cool as to cause a pony’s flanks to shiver. The lush, green grass just invited picnic blankets and of course, if you were going to have a picnic with your special somepony sweets were a must. Bon Bon had enjoyed a steady flow of customers and had even received a few rave reviews over her latest experimental creations. Not always a given. And to top things off, just before closing time Pinkie Pie had shown up and given Bon Bon an order large enough for every pony in town, and then some, to enjoy several selections. Pinkie had been vague as the reason she needed such a large quantity, just that it was going to be the best party ever. But then again Pinkie said that about every party. The party pony had been equally vague on time and date, just assuring Bon Bon that she knew the candy maker would have it done in time. Which was more than a little strange, as Bon Bon hadn’t actually given her an estimate on how long it would take. At least a week, as it turned out. Bon Bon had started preparatory work on the order at once, in between serving the more regular customers. She’d made up a list of everything she would need. After closing up shop in the early afternoon when the crowds died down she spent the remainder of the very pleasant day running around town confirming supplies and putting in orders for all the various things that were not currently available. Pinkie had paid up front, so Bon Bon had no trouble ordering such large quantities of ingredients. She had returned home tired but content assured that everything she would require would be here within two days at the most. With nothing more to do until she had the materials to start on Pinkie Pie’s order, Bon Bon was at loose ends. Knowing the non-stop labor that was coming she intended to take this precious free time to relax. Or, at least doing something that would put her in the proper frame of mind to make the most delightful candy possible. A slightly lecherous expression appeared on her face as she started to put up her special closed for the day sign(1). ‟Wait, wait, hold on,” a gasping voice cried out and Bon Bon looked out the door to see Derpy Hooves, the mailmare, making her usual erratic way through the air on a general heading for the candy shop. The light grey pegasus mare looked a bit the worse for wear, but that wasn’t unusual for her, just as getting the morning mail in the evening was not out of the ordinary for Ponyville. Normally, Bon Bon enjoyed that laid back attitude, so different from the high pressure go, go, go, attitude of Canterlot, at least on the part of those ponies who actually had to make a living there. At the moment, however, she was expecting a reply to a submission she’d made to her former employer, Black Knight Confectioners. Bon Bon had served a five-year apprenticeship with Black Knight, and was currently a journeyman, striving to become a master. A month ago she had sent off her most recent attempt at a masterpiece and was waiting to hear back from them.(2) If it hadn’t been for Pinkie’s order and all her other customers keeping her so busy, she would have been walking the floor waiting for Derpy to show up or heading out into town to track the mailmare down. Bon Bon opened her shop door wide and ducked to the side as Derpy came in for a landing in front of the store. The mailmare’s front legs crossed just as she touched down and she stumbled forward, and almost recovered, until her rear legs crossed as well. She pitched forward and from long practice tucked and rolled. The accident-prone pegasus somersaulted into the shop and rolled across the floor until she slammed up against the main display case. A platter of Bon Bon’s signature candy, arranged in a pyramid shape, jostled slightly. The round sweet on the very tip-top of the pile teetered back and forth and then rolled down the side of the display, bouncing as it went. It careened off the bottom row, skittered across the countertop, and dropped toward the floor, only to be intercepted by Derpy’s mouth as she snapped it up. ‟Mmmmm, good. Got your mail,” Derpy said in a muffled voice as she fumbled with her mailbag and produced a sheaf of letters, flyers, and one rolled up tabloid style newspaper. Bon Bon rolled her eyes at the sight of that, and wondered if she could arrange to lose it before– ‟Is the mail here?” Lyra Heartstrings; the love of Bon Bon’s life stuck her head out through the doorway connecting the shop with their living quarters. ‟Oh, yes,” she shouted out with glee, her horn glowing as she levitated the day’s mail out of Derby's hooves. In return, she horned Derpy a manilla envelope. Derpy examined the envelope, ‟Another submission to the Enquirer?” she asked. ‟Yeah, got some great shots of those crop circles in Applejack’s oat field.” she enthused. ‟I’m sure this time they’ll print one.” Lyra shuffled the papers she gotten from Derpy in front of her eyes. ‟Yes!” she hoof pumped as she separated out the tabloid from the rest of the mail. She then quickly sorted out the rest. Filing some on the counter, some in the trash, and handing some to Bon Bon. ‟Bill, bill, advertisement, Oh, give it a rest Mom, bill, flyer, oooh, a letter for you, and...” Lyra blinked and fell silent for a moment. ‟Why on earth is weird Uncle Storm Warning writing to me?” Bon Bon had to fight down the urge to squeal with glee when she saw the distinctive logo of a Unicorn in full old-time black armor on the letter. She immediately began to rip it open but paused on hearing Lyra’s last comment. ‟You have an Uncle, you call weird?” Bon Bon asked, her mind reeling at the concept. ‟Oh, yeah. Uncle Storm Warning is totally nuts,” Lyra said, making the universal sign for crazy by spinning her hoof in a circle next to her temple while sitting casually in front of a tabloid opened to an article entitled I Had Big Hoof's Foal with various paragraphs highlighted, and photos of an Earth Pony attempting to bottle feed a colt twice her size. ‟He thinks that the Night Guards are conspiring to bring back Nightmare Moon. Or that’s what he used to always be ranting about. I haven’t heard from him since Nightmare Moon was defeated and Princess Luna was freed, so I don’t know what he believes now.” ‟Sounds like a real nut job,” Derpy said, giving a casual nudge to the display case in the hope of further candy avalanches. Bon Bon reached over and nudged a candy that had fallen off the platter and onto the counter over the edge, which Derpy happily snagged. ‟Well, got to be going,” she mumbled through a mouthful of sticky caramel as she got back to her feet and headed for the door. Bon Bon locked it behind her and instantly ripped open the letter she was holding. Her look of anticipation shifted to disappointment as she read the very shaky writing inside ‟Dear Miss Bon Bon, we regret to inform you that our panels of experts do not feel your three beans, triple espresso, dark chocolate swirl, is suitable for inclusion in our All Equestria special sampler case. You might consider marketing this to Cart Stops. It was the belief of our marketing department, once they stopped jittering, that it might do very well if targeted at the correct demographic, such as long-distance cart haulers. We thank you for your consideration and hope you will try again. Your sincerely, President Sweet Tooth, Black Knight Confectioners.” ‟Darn it. I was sure that last batch was good enough,” Bon Bon groused, partially in frustration, and partially in the hope of a little physical sympathy from her loving spouse, but, when she looked over at her special somepony with an appropriate kicked puppy expression, Lyra had already vanished back into their living quarters. She gave a sigh and gathered up the mail and walked out of the shop and into their home. The usual chaos reigned in what was Lyra and Bon Bon’s living room. Lyra had co-opted one entire wall and had covered it with various pictures and labels spider-webbed with threads showing cross-connections between various different ponies and situations. In addition, several bookcases were crammed with reference material while various unique ‘artifacts’ were scattered here and there. Lyra was currently levitating the tabloid in front of her, turned to a particular article. She would peruse it for a few moments, and then shift a push pin and thread on her wall of evidence, all the while muttering to herself. ‟Of course. Why didn’t I notice that? This makes much more sense,” and various other comments. Bon Bon heaved another deep sigh. It looked like there wasn’t much hope for some early evening delight. Her expression turned more hopeful as she remembered previous episodes like this one, and how energized Lyra had been afterward. Knowing her heart’s delight was off visiting strange realms for at least the next hour or so, Bon Bon checked out the mail. Sure enough, just as Lyra’s earlier remark had indicated, there was yet another package from the unicorn’s mother, addressed to Lyra and Bon Bon Heartstrings. Bon Bon felt a bit of relief that Cello was once again placing her name on her messages(3) Bon Bon didn’t really blame Lyra’s mother for being more than a touch upset with her. Cello had allowed her beloved daughter to marry a common earth pony in large part because Bon Bon was at the time the premier apprentice at the most prestigious candy manufacture in all of Equestria. She had not taken it well when Bon Bon had taken her journeyman papers and set up shop out in the backside of nowhere in some no-name hole in the road. As the letter in her hooves was addressed to both Lyra and her, Bon Bon felt no hesitation in opening it, even though she already had a pretty good idea of the contents. Sure enough, there were a half a dozen eight by ten glossies inside of suitably eligible stallions, complete with a complete synopsis of their bloodlines. And not one word about what these particular stallions did for a living. Though looking through the collection of chinless wonders Bon Bon had a pretty good idea that it involved living off a trust fund while congregating with their peers at the Stallion Club and congratulating themselves on how important they were. It wasn’t that Lyra and Bon Bon were not interested in finding a suitable coltfriend someday. They had discussed it at length, with various degrees of seriousness, depending on the level of hard cider in their respective bloodstreams. In general, they were not that particular. He just had to be somepony they both could love. Bloodlines and family fortune did not feature high, or at all really, on their list of admirable qualities. Bon Bon set the letter and its contents aside for Lyra to check out later. Lyra always had a great deal of fun dreaming up personalities and behavior for the various stallions Cello brought to their attention. They were frequently hilarious, always scurrilous. That left Bon Bon one last letter the one from Lyra’s weird Uncle Storm Warning. The mind-boggling implications of Lyra considering somepony weird made it very difficult to resist opening, but her name was not on this letter, and while Lyra would not have objected, Bon Bon was very careful about not stepping over certain boundaries. One of those was that she did not open Lyra’s personal mail unless asked to. ‟Go ahead, take a look,” Lyra said from where she was focussing on her periodical while circling several sections with a highlighter, proving that she was not as oblivious to her surroundings as it might have seen. Given permission, Bon Bon ripped open the letter and scanned the sheaf of paper inside. It only took a few paragraphs for her to realize that Lyra had if anything understated the situation. The man was a total lunatic. He was obsessed with Princess Luna. He was sure that the princess was lulling her gullible sister into complacency in preparation for murdering Celestia in her sleep while her demonic minions, the night guard, would descend on the aristocratic houses in the dead of night to remove any potential resistance to her taking over the country. Oh, it was not set out so blatantly as all that. No doubt Storm Warning felt he was being very circumspect in his ranting, but Bon Bon had been immersed in conspiracy speak from the first day she’d met Lyra in a cute little coffee house next door to her place of work. She was by now perfectly fluent in it. Proving true the old adage that to truly learn a language you must sleep with a native speaker. ‟So, what does my weird uncle want?” Lyra asked, mumbling around the marker in her mouth, her meager telekinetic abilities maxed out due to the numerous pins and threads she was juggling. ‟As near as I can figure he wishes you to subtly warn the Elements of Harmony about Princess Luna’s dastardly plot and have them prepared to take unilateral action before things go too far. Apparently, he was very impressed with how Twilight stood up to the entire court during the Changeling crisis. He feels, however, that she only succeeded in exposing the puppets and not the puppeteer.” ‟That would be Princess Luna, I assume?” ‟Got it in one,” Bon Bon said. ‟So, what are you going to tell him?” ‟Yes!” Lyra shouted out. ‟What? Are you nuts? You can’t. . .” Bon Bon trailed off as she watched her marefriend bounce around the room in a manner that would have made Pinkie Pie envious, all the while shouting out, ‟Yes, yes, yes, yes.” Correctly deducing that they were no longer talking about Lyra’s weird uncle, Bon Bon filled that missive in the correct receptacle. (4) A moment later she was enveloped in a rib-cracking hug and received a kiss that caused her knees to go rubbery. Lyra broke her lip lock long enough to hold Bon Bon’s head between her two front hooves while grinning like a maniac from just a few inches away. ‟The Humans are coming back!” she declared confidently. ‟Luna’s essence in the moon blocked the moon path. Tonight is the first proper stellar configuration since she was freed. Just think, somewhere in Equestria tonight a Human will step onto our soil for the first time in a thousand--” Lyra was cut off as Bon Bon, feeling she had done her duty for as long as was needed when it came to humoring her marefriend, wrapped her front legs around Lyra’s neck and pulled her into a passionate kiss. The pale green Unicorn struggled for a moment, and then let out a low moan as she and Bon Bon settled down onto the soft rug. ********************************* Curry sneezed, wiped her nose on her arm and then drew her hands up into her sleeves and crossed her arms over her chest to keep out the cold. The temperature had dropped several degrees since she and Jake had left the barn. She drew the old horse blanket up over her shoulders and hunched over to conserve as much warmth as possible. She was currently sitting in Jake’s training sledge. Unlike the work sledge that they used to haul timber, firewood, or rock, this was a lightly built device that had been used to teach Jake the various commands and techniques required for hauling heavy loads. It only weighed a couple of hundred pounds and Jake likely barely even noticed it as he trudged up the mountain, taking the familiar route to Old Ben’s logging camp. They had been on the trail for nearly an hour now, and they had at least another hour before they would reach the old cabin that was her goal. She could hardly wait to build a roaring fire and heat up some powdered soup to warm up her chilled bones. Curry hunched over even further, pulling the blanket right over her head. She was exhausted. The mental and physical stress of the last few days had left her with no reserves at all. Despite the cold, she nodded off and was soon fast asleep. Which was why she missed seeing the first of many snowflakes that started to flutter down out of the night sky around her and Jake. Jake trudged along, his head drooping. It was way past his bedtime, he thought in disgruntlement. Why had Curry insisted on setting out now, instead of first thing in the morning like usual? Everything was messed up. Jake had been upset for days, wondering where Curry and Old Ben had gotten too. He was used to his usual routine. During the week Curry would visit him in the morning, feed and water him, and then disappear. She’d come back in the evening, spend an hour or so, and then leave again. Old Ben would pop in now and then over the course of the day. On the weekends, however. Curry and Old Ben would show up first thing in the morning and they’d head out on this path. He would get to spend two whole days playing with Curry before they had to come back. Always before he’d gone up the path eagerly, and come back down regretfully. But it was all different now. Something was the matter with Curry. She didn’t seem happy. There was a tension about her that disturbed him, and he didn’t know why. He might have spent more time fretting if he hadn’t been so tired. He focused on putting one dinner plate sized foot in front of the other and looking forward to getting up to the lumber camp and his nice snug stall. Jake was pretty much on auto-pilot when he came to a large fork in the trail, a small tree had fallen over the well-trod path on the right causing him to veer up the left-hand side. Instead of heading for the lumber camp he began moving deeper and higher into the mountains. The area he was heading into had been posted as private property and no trespassing for longer than anyone could remember. Nothing came this way but the deer that had made the trail he was following. Old Ben had pointed out the fork to Curry and told her that there wasn’t anything but swamp and bugs up there. Curry, who hated black flies and mosquitoes with a passion, had never been tempted to explore up it, despite her incurable urge to ramble over every bit of land within walking distance of her home. As Jake and Curry disappeared into the heavy overgrowth the snow began to fall heavier and heavier, erasing all sign of their passage. ********************************************** ‟Sheriff! I want to talk to you.” Sheriff Griffith looked up and gave a sigh of resignation as Joe Sedgwick all but stormed into his office. He knew what this was about, and what he could do about it, which was nothing. Still, he put on an expression of polite attention and waited for Joe to make his case. ‟There has to be something you can do about the situation with Curry. You know darn well that Ben appointed me her guardian in his will. How can that woman just override a dead man’s last request?” The sheriff let out a sigh. ‟Joe, you know that she’s been trying to get Curry away from Ben for the last six months. It started back when he told her to stick it where the sun don't shine when she came out to evaluate Curry’s home life after the girl gave Matt Colson’s boy a black eye for trying to kiss her, and hasn’t stopped since. Face it. There is no way that the courts are going to let a ten-year-old girl go live with a sixty-year-old lifetime bachelor. It just ain’t going to happen, not even if Endora was to vanish right off the planet. And your teasing Curry for the past two years by trying to talk Ben into trading Jake for something much more suitable for a little girl, like a pony, likely didn’t help matters either. The girl thinks you’re a villain straight out of a Disney TV show.” Joe opened his mouth to argue and was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. ‟Hold that thought,” the sheriff said holding up a finger while picking up the phone. The sheriff’s lethargic pose disappeared as he sat up straight in his chair, a look of deep concern on his face. ‟How long ago? That’s not very helpful, can’t you narrow it down? Is the horse still in the barn? Well, send someone to check and call me back.” The sheriff hung up and turned to Joe. ‟Curry’s gone. They don’t know when. Sometime between getting home from the funeral and a half hour ago, which was when they noticed she wasn’t in the house anymore." Joe chuckled. ‟I told that woman the kid wouldn’t go quietly.” ‟This is no laughing matter, Joe,” the sheriff snapped. ‟Haven’t you been listening to the weather reports? There is a major fall storm closing in on us. At the elevation around Ben’s house, they’re predicting anywhere from two to five feet of snow in the next forty-eight hours. If she’s done a runner with Jake, we only have a short time to find them. Cross your fingers she only just snuck out to the barn to be with Jake. Because, if she’s already gotten up into those mountains it could be bad.” ‟The lumber camp,” Joe interjected, the humor disappearing from his face and voice. At the Sheriff’s look, he added. ‟Ben had a brush lot higher up on the mountain where he cut his firewood. He’s been taking Curry and Jake up there for the last two years so Curry could learn how to train Jake on a weight sledge. It was all she could talk about. She was planning on winning first prize at the fall fair next year and rubbing my face in the dirt. There is a snug cabin and a stall for Jake. Ben kept it stocked with emergency rations and fodder. If she’s a runaway, that’s where she’s gone.” ‟Sounds good. If she’s run off with her horse.” Just then the phone rang, and the sheriff snatched it up. ‟Yes. Good. We think we know where she’s gone. Stay put, we’ll be there in the next few minutes.” Hanging up the phone, the sheriff strode across the floor, snatching his winter coat from the rack beside the door as he did so. ‟Come on. The horse is gone. We’ll use the search and rescue ATVs. You know the way, I assume?” ‟Sure do. Let’s go retrieve them before that dang fool girl gets them both killed.” Less than three-quarters of an hour later two ATVs pulled to a halt in front of a dark cabin high up in the mountains. Snow swirled around them cutting visibility to less than twenty feet. Only the blazes Ben had cut on the trees lining the path along with assorted coffee can lids nailed at potential forks had let Joe make it. Joe dismounted with a creak of his old bones, staring with dismay at the cabin which showed no sign of life. ‟Maybe she doused the lanterns?” the sheriff suggested. Joe shook his head, a bleak look on his face. He gave a sniff. ‟Even if she had, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything about the wood smoke. Cold as it is the first thing she would have done would have been to start a fire. I can’t smell anything. Besides, she wouldn’t have time to hide Jake,” he added, nodding toward the stall built against the leeward side of the cabin. The door was partly open, giving a view into the interior. Not even a pony could have concealed themselves from sight, let alone a brute like Jake. Besides, if the friendly horse had been about and loose he’d have been over to say hello by now and hopefully cage a few free apples. His stomach tied in knots, Joe turned to stare out into the swirling mass of snow. Even as he watched, visibility decreased. He looked over at the sheriff. Already a good inch of snow had accumulated on his Stetson hat even though he’d only been standing still for less than a minute. Joe knew it was only the start. Up this high in the mountains, by the time this blew itself out, there could be as much as ten feet of snow on the ground. Despite that, he was ready to head out into the storm to look for Curry and Jake. ‟Maybe they took a wrong turn? They would have heard our ATVs, that could bring them back to the trail?” the sheriff said, his tone saying he didn’t really believe his own words. ‟If she didn’t head in the opposite direction,” Joe said bleakly. He started to walk toward his vehicle, determined to find the girl. The sheriff caught his arm. ‟It’s no good, Joe. We’re better off lighting a fire and hoping the smell of smoke will guide her in. If it doesn’t. There are lots of pine to shelter under. Even a few spruce groves. Jake is a big horse, he’ll offer shelter and warmth all by himself. Ben taught Curry basic woodcraft. We have to hope he taught her enough." Joe was about to shake off the sheriff’s grip when the moon suddenly lit up the clearing. He looked at it in shock. There was no way it should have been visible, but that was not the only thing. The moon wasn’t in the right spot, and the Sheriff didn’t seem to have noticed it. He stared blankly at the perfect disk, his mind flying back more than sixty years. The strange moon was only there for a moment before it faded away. Joe remained frozen in place, his eyes fixed on the spot where the out-of-place moon had shone. In his mind’s eye, he was seeing the same moon, only with the outline of a unicorn’s head visible if you looked at it just right. An outline that hadn’t been there this time. It had been years since he’d last seen it during his induction as a youth into the Order of the Knights of Equestria. The sheriff twisted around, following Joe’s gaze. ‟What. You see something?” Joe slowly shook his head, still staring. ‟No. Nothing. You’re right, sheriff. Best thing is to get ourselves under shelter and build a fire.” Joe turned toward the cabin, the knot in his stomach unraveling. It seemed like a miracle. He was the last of the order. The last bearer of their sacred duty. And in the end, after all his failed attempts, it looked like their master’s child was returning home with no help at all from him. ***************************************** Unlike humans, deer were far more interested in taking the easy path than getting from point A to point B quickly. As a result, Jake’s path was anything but straight. It followed the hollows between the hills, twisting around trees and rocks. Only two years of training and practice kept the sledge with the sleeping Curry on it from tangling in the underbrush. On the plus side, the trail was mostly sheltered by overhanging branches and steep valley walls. While the snow grew deeper and deeper around Jake’s legs it did not begin to match the amount accumulating in the clearings they bypassed on their trek. His powerful muscles made short work of the deepening fluff and if anything the sledge Curry was dozing on became easier to drag as its runners slipped smoothly over the freshly fallen snow. Jake’s eyes drooped and he focussed all his efforts on putting one leg in front of another. One step became ten became a hundred, then a thousand. Higher and deeper into the mountains they pushed until at last he broke through the tree line and after pushing through a drift of snow that was over six feet in depth walked out onto a barren windswept slope. In front of Jake’s weary eyes, a full moon gleamed. A path of soft white light ran from his feet to the gleaming globe and Jake wearily stumbled onto it. His eyes grew more and more tired until he could barely keep his eyes open. Jake and the sledge behind him began to glow softly. Only that white path existed and he walked along it mechanically, not even pausing when the rock under his feet disappeared and he stepped out onto what seemed to be clouds. Jake walked straight toward the moon floating in front of him which swelled ever bigger and bigger till it filled his entire vision and he walked into it. The glow around Jake and Curry merged with that of the moon until they became one, and then slowly dimmed into nothingness. All that was left was the windblown snow dancing in the air, the flakes glimmering until they too lost their glow and all was dark and still except for the sound of the endless wind. ******************************************** Luna, Princess of the Night, Mistress of the Moon and Stars, and Diarch of Equestria, was feeling a touch smug. Tonight’s efforts had been particularly fine, in her honest, unbiased, opinion. The Raising had been smooth as silk, her moon gleamed, a full bright disk shedding moon glimmer over the land while all around it twinkling stars added just the right amount of extra sparkle to the setting. She knew all this because she’d had an audience to this raising who could truly appreciate all the extra little magical touches that went into making a simple moon raising an art form. And who unlike most ponies, did not see her only as one of Equestria’s two rulers, or worse, the monster of the night. Luna was just turning away to go about the evening’s duty when something made her turn around. A soft white glimmer surrounded her horn and she felt her eyes being drawn to the moon high overhead. She blinked, and for just a second the moon seemed to swell to twice it’s typical size, and then retreated back to its more normal dimensions. Seconds later a wave of magical energy buffeted Luna, causing the glimmer around her horn to flare bright enough to temporary destroy her night vision. She blinked tears from her eyes as her mind boggled at what had just happened. ‟It is not possible. After all these years. Celestia must be told! This could change everything!” ************************************* Twilight Sparkle had always loved the early evening. Before coming to Ponyville she’d often found herself high up in the observatory tower in Canterlot immersed in the beauty of the night. Below her vantage point, the day-loving ponies would be retiring for the evening, and the Nocturne guards that patrolled the palace would slip unnoticed into their sentry positions, their dark grey hides concealing them in the shadows. It had been easy back then to think that she had the night all to herself, just her and the heavenly bodies over her head. That was no longer the case, she knew she shared the night sky with at least one other pony now. But rather than diminishing her pleasure, it increased it. She might have been miles from Canterlot, but it was easy to close her eyes and imagine Luna standing next to her, gazing up at the sky she commanded. During a normal evening of stargazing Twilight would have her eye glued to her telescope while sipping hot cocoa, a cozy blanket draped over her shoulders. She had the cocoa and blanket this night, but she had decided to try a different way of observing the stars this evening. One she’d only taken after getting permission from Princess Luna to attempt. She’d closed her eyes, and reached out with her magic, feeling for the moon and the stars, and maybe for the feel of Luna’s magic as she manipulated those objects. And she’d done it. She’d felt Luna, felt the flow of the Night Alicorn’s magic as she performed her sacred duty. It had been awe-inspiring. Even now, with Luna going on about her normal night’s business, Twilight kept her magical senses extended to savor the last lingering flow of magic around the moon and stars. In her half-somnolent state Twilight was taken completely utterly by surprised when a sudden blast of energy rocked her off her stool and onto her backside while leaving her mane looking like Rainbow Dash had just nailed her with a mini-lightning bolt. ‟What the hay was that?” Twilight cried out. She stared wide-eyed up at the sky from her position on her back for a long moment, before scrambling to her feet. ‟Luna,” she cried out in shock, fear for her friend in her voice. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. Luna was so far away, it could take hours to get to her, and Twilight didn’t even know if this had anything to do with her. ‟I have to ask Princess Celestia about this.” Twilight scrambled to her feet and rushed inside while calling out, ‟Spike! Spike, get up. We need to send a letter. Right now.” ************************************* (1)A welcome to Ponyville present from Pinkie to her and Lyra that read. ‟If this shack is rocking, don’t come knocking,” Which drew amused laughs and comments about newlyweds from the adults. Various foals had staked out the shop for a while in the hope of seeing it rocking but had been disappointed when it showed no sign at all of shifting on its foundation. Though there were some suitably spooky sounds that emerged from time to time. (2) Ponies take their sweets seriously. The founder of Black Knight had received his Knighthood when his Dark Night truffle cream swirl received credit for mellowing out a peace conference to the point where they signed a treaty that actually worked well for all parties while in a haze of flavor bliss overload. (3)After Lyra returned half a dozen letters unopened with, ‟No such Recipient” scrawled across the front. (4) The one for burnable material. It was far too toxic to put in the compost heap.