//------------------------------//
// The Day of Days 
// Story: Pinkie and Bluie Twoie - A Pinkie and Bluie Hearth's Warming 
// by Talon and Thorn 
//------------------------------//

Pinkie awoke, unlike most ponies she didn’t pass through a hazy middle state between sleeping and being awake she just switched straight from one to the other. Opening her eyes she gazed into Blueblood’s sleeping face, his mane was matted and he was drooling slightly but he was still the most handsome stallion she knew. He was still asleep probably tired out after last nights ‘special private party’. She just lay there for a few minutes watching him and wondering how somepony so powerful, handsome, important, rich, fun and talented could be with somepony as normal as her.
 
Gazing around the room she realised the sun had already risen. Unless they got started soon the rest of the Blueblood family would turn up before she had a chance to get things ready for them. Careful not to wake her lover Pinkie wriggled out of his grasp and onto the floor. Blueblood screwed up his face one hoof questing for the now missing Pinkie. She quickly slid a pillow into his grasp and he settled down again.
 
Quietly whistling a cheery tune she hopped down the lavishly decorated corridor towards the kitchens. She was a little surprised not to see Duty Bound but she assumed the old servant was busy somewhere else, maybe he was coming in later after giving his grandfoals their presents, she hoped Freedom would like his kite.
 
She was starting to put together the ingredients for a special Hearth’s Warming breakfast for Bluie when there was a knock on the back door. Balancing a mixing bowl on her head she bounded over the door and flung it open, “Happy Hearth’s Warming!” she yelled.
 
The pair of liveried delivery ponies on the other side of the portal jumped back in surprise before steadying themselves and returning her greetings. “Food delivery for the Blueblood residence,” one said.
 
“Ooh thanks,” said Pinkie as the stallions started to bring in trays of ready prepared meals. “This all looks yummy. It’s a pity you have to work on Hearth’s Warming though.”
 
“It’s not that bad, the pays good and you’re our last but one delivery anyway. Then we’ve got the rest of the day with our families,” said one worker.
 
“I always like that last delivery,” said the other, struggling with a crate of snacks, “We serve the orphanage, the look on the foal’s faces just makes me feel so warm and fuzzy.”
 
“It certainly makes you feel good about yourself,” agreed the other, “Can you sign here Miss?” she asked passing over a clipboard.
 
Pinkie carefully scanned through the content, Mr Pie had taught her to always read everything before signing after the mistake when they got five hundred sacks of flour rather than fifty. “There’s a mistake here,” she said, “We only need food for two not six. Although Mrs Cake sometimes says I eat like two ponies, but to be fair she’s eating for three and there is only one of me, most of the time.” The extra food she had brought from Ponyville should be fine for the Bluebloods, this would just be too much.
 
“Are you sure?” said the work pony trying to follow her babbling.
 
“Yep, only the two of us here, me and Bluie.”
 
“I’m sorry about the mix up, what should we do with the extra food?”
 
“Just give it to the orphans, I’m sure they could do with a little more,” she suggested.
 
The two ponies gathered up several of the trays, “That’s very nice of you,” said the younger as they left.
 
Smiling to herself Pinkie shut the door, retrieved the mixing bowl from her head and returned to her cooking.
 





 
Prince Blueblood was slowly drawn back to consciousness by the wonderful scent of freshly cooked pancakes. He opened his eyes to see Pinkie entering the bedroom with several plates laden with breakfast goodies balanced on her head and back.
 
“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” she cried.
 
“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” he replied struggling into a better position in bed and using his magic to remove the food from his marefriend. Pinkie bounded onto him and kissed him deeply. When they separated he levitated a chunk of pancake into her mouth.
 
“Yummy,” she commented as she swallowed, “Oh, I’ve got a topping for them,” she reached into her mane and brought out a small container of some sort of purple paste, “It’s blueberries and pinkberries all sort of smushed together. I’m sure it will taste great.”
 
Blueblood had to smile at Pinkie’s somewhat obvious metaphor, “I’m sure it will. Now I’ve got something for you here,” he levitated a large box from under the bed, it was wrapped up in colourful paper and held together with a pink ribbon.
 
With a squeal of delight Pinkie tore into the package. Blueblood looked on indulgently, he knew Pinkie enjoyed unwrapping presents as much as getting them, possibly more. She’d probably be perfectly content with an empty box. She pulled open the box and threw aside a layer of tissue paper. Lying there was an exquisite set of pink saddle bags with her cutie mark embroidered on the side.
 
“Oh Bluie, their wonderful,” she ran a hoof over them.
 
“Hoof stitched,” he commented. “But that’s not the best bit.” He picked them up and thrust a leg into them up to the shoulder. “They’re magically enlarged to be able to contain more things and anything you put into them will stay the right temperature, hot or cold. I helped enchant them.” That was a bit of a fib, his magical knowledge was nowhere near the level needed for such complex spells, he was slightly below average in that regard and it irked him. He had however helped supply the energy needed to enchant them, a process he now knew required a number of farmed gems sewn into the seams. It had been a draining process which had left him with a headache for several days, but seeing Pinkie’s face made it more than worth it. “You can use them to store whatever you want, food, party supplies.”
 
Pinkie stuck the bag over her head disappearing almost up to her withers. “Or yourself,” he continued lamely.
 
“Echo, echo,” she called her voice sounding distant. “Oh, this is the bestest Hearth’s Warming present ever,” she infused. “Now I can hold two, maybe three parties in a row without having to stop to stock up on supplies.” The leaned over and gave Blueblood a kiss.
 
“Oh, I got you this.” She stuck an arm into her mane and rummaged around. Blueblood didn’t know why he’d bothered with the bags really her mane seemed to have the same properties naturally. She pulled out a package about the size of her head but flatter, ribbons and bows hung off of it.
 
Blueblood carefully unwrapped it to reveal a large book, it looked hoofmade. On the cover was a white splodge with a yellow line on top which if Blueblood squinted and turned his head to the right angle looked a little like himself, Pinkie was an enthusiastic if not skilled artist. Written in large cheerful letters and covered in glitter were the words ‘Bluie is a good pony’. He tentatively cracked open the first page of the book, there stuck to the centre of the page was a small newspaper cutting announcing his birth and declaring how happy his parents were. Somewhat confused he flipped through the pages, each contained one or more newspaper cuttings of his life. There was a report of his first day at court, here a motion he passed to improve mining subsidies, on another page the founding of a shelter for homeless ponies.
 
“Pinkie, what is all this. Where did you get it all?”
 
“It’s you silly, it’s your life and all you’ve done with it. I looked through all the newspapers in the library, it made my head hurt but I found everything that had your name in it. I was going to tear them all out myself but Twilight said she’d send me to the sun if I did that, but luckily she had a spell which could copy them so I asked her to copy all you’ve done so I could make the book.”
 
Blueblood closed the book, “This is very nice and you’ve put a lot of effort into it but this doesn’t show that I’m a good pony.” He opened it again at a random page, “I only had this canal built to spite Lord Song, he wanted it to take a different route.”
 
“It still employed a lot of ponies and allowed medicine and food to be brought to Manechester when it was hit by a rogue storm.”
 
“And this one, I lobbied for raising the subsidies for grain harvesting because it benefited my province.”
 
“So it helped the ponies of your province, that’s your job. And it helped others as well, things weren’t going well for the Cakes, without the cheap flour they might have lost Sugar Cube Corner. Lots of small bakers were in the same boat. What about this one?” she pointed at an article announcing a grant to investigate Sudden Foal Death Syndrome.
 
“Well my secretary had lost her foal to it, I felt I had to do something to help.”
 
“See, you did it because you felt sorry for her, because you're a good pony. All these things you’ve done, even if you didn’t mean to they helped other ponies and that’s not the best thing,” she flipped through the rest of the book, most of the pages were empty. “There’s plenty of space left for you to fill with all the good things you’ll do in the future.”
 
He put down the book and looked at Pinkie who was grinning at him, “Thank you,” he said, “I sometimes think you see another pony when you look at me. I’d like to be that pony someday.”
 
“You already are, you just don’t know it yet, but you’ve got plenty of time.”
 
Smiling Blueblood hugged Pinkie again and the two of them laid back on the bed, limbs entwined. They led there together in each other’s embrace for a few minutes until Blueblood unwillingly separated himself from his lover. “I think we need to get up, the food will be delivered soon.”
 
Pinkie grabbed him and pulled him close again, “Oh, you don’t need to worry it arrived ages go. They actually brought too much so I told them to take the rest to the orphans.”
 
“That’s nice,” mumbled Blueblood into Pinkie’s mane. Then what she had said caught up with him and a chill passed down his back. He pulled away, “You gave away the extra food?” he stuttered in shock.
 
“Yes, there was oodles, even more than I could eat, I’d get a belly ache. Although in the spirit of scientific investigation I would be willing to try.”
 
Blueblood leapt from the bed, “NO! No! No,” he cried.
 
“Bluie? What’s wrong?” said Pinkie looking worried.
 
“The extra food was for your family. What will they think of me? I’m supposed to run a province and I can’t even feed a single family of rock farmers,” he continued ignoring her.
 
“MY FAMILY!” Pinkie screeched at such a volume that Blueblood was knocked back, “No!” she continued, “They can’t be here, they don’t like Hearth’s warming, they're busy on the farm, they don’t need me, they don’t want me, they can’t be here!” She leapt into the air seeming to hover there for a moment before coming crashing down and running in a panicked circle, throwing bedclothes around the room.
 
Horrified by his marefriends reaction Blueblood forgot his own troubles, “Pinkie!” he cried, “Calm down! It’ll be alright.” Pinkie didn’t seem to hear him and continued to run around in small circles gibbering in panic. Blueblood took a deep breath, “STOP!” he bellowed.
 
Pinkie froze in place instantly coming to a halt. She remained completely immobile for a second before her head rotated jerkily to face him. “Why are my family coming?” she asked in a small voice.
 
Blueblood tried to organise his thoughts, “I invited them Pinkie. I thought you’d like them here with us so I went out to their farm and asked them to join us.”
 
Pinkie’s ears twitched a few times “Ok,” she said in a strained voice. “Oh, I wish you’d told me all about this, it’s such a shock.” Then she seemed to remember something. “Oh, err, I might have sort of invited your parents to come as well,” she looked awkward. “Surprise?” she mumbled.
 
Blueblood staggered back at this news, “My parents are coming, here? Now? In the same house as your family?” Horrible thoughts ran through his head, he couldn’t see any way that his parents and the Pies could be in the same space for any length of time without his mother's head exploding.
 
Pinkie began to giggle, it was a familiar sound but something sounded a little off about it.
 
“What?” asked Blueblood.
 
“Your face. You look like Corona and Luna both arrived to tell you that you were a naughty colt. Your parents won’t be a problem, they’re big fluffy kittens underneath. Only not really, they're ponies, if they were kittens then you would be as well,” She looked thoughtful, “Unless you are a kitten in a pony suit,” She began to prod Blueblood in various spots apparently looking for a zipper.
 
“Pinkie! Stop that,” he giggled as she tickled him. “I suppose your parents aren’t going to be a problem either. I got on quite well with them.” Eventually, he thought. “Maybe we’re just getting worked up over nothing.”
 
“Yep,” she nodded, one of her eyes twitching a bit. “We just have to put together the best meal in the history of Equestria for both of our families with what we have to hoof in only a few hours. It’s not like your parents are going to judge me based on how well this meal goes.” Her ear twitched again.
 
“Nor yours,” he grinned. The smile slowly dropped off his face, “They wouldn’t right?”
 
Pinkie was already running to the kitchen.
 





 
By the time Blueblood arrived in the kitchen Pinkie was rushing here and there trying to do everything at once. A mixing bowl was balanced on her head while she chopped potatoes with one hoof, filled a saucepan with another and turned on the oven with a third while hopping in place on her remaining limb.
 
“You’ve got plenty of food in store,” she said juggling several eggs before cracking them into a bowl. “I just need to get it all ready in less than three hours and make the best meal ever in the history of the world so that our parents are extra happy and think I’m not a hopeless hostess,” she explained.
 
Blueblood starred as the pink blur zoomed around the kitchen seemingly carrying out a dozen tasks at once. “What can I do to help?” he asked.
 
“I’m sure I’ll be fine once Duty turns up, he’s a really good chef.”
 
Blueblood frowned, he didn’t know his servant could cook, “Er, I have given Duty the day off, he’s staying with his family.”
 
Pinkie froze in mid stride a rain of sprouts falling into the ground around her as she dropped a bowl. “Duty’s not coming?” she asked in a distant voice, her pupils shrinking to tiny dots.
 
“No,” said Blueblood nervously, “Hearth’s Warming is a time for family right?”
 
Pinkie’s expression seemed to flicker back and forth between pride and anger for a few seconds, “Okey. Dokey. Lokey." She said slowly grinding her teeth, "I’ll just have to do it all by myself, I’ve heard there’s a magic pool where you can make copies of yourself, if I need any help I’ll go there,” she said grinding her teeth. “Anyway I’ve always got Madam Le Flour to help me,” she nodded to a large bag of flour sitting on a table, for some reason a party hat was strapped to it.
 
Blueblood was beginning to worry about his marefriend, “Are you sure I can’t do anything to help?” he asked nervously. He’d watched Pinkie cook a few times, it didn’t seem that hard.
 
“That’s sweet but I’m sure I can get it all done in time,” she threw a head of lettuce into the air slicing out seemingly at random with a worryingly large knife and quickly moved a bowl into place to catch the remains as they fell.
 
“Why don’t you just get washed and set the table. I’m sure I can fix this all. Afterall I’m a chef.” She gave a lopsided grin as she lashed out once more with the chopping knife dicing several mushrooms and burying the blade deep into the chopping board.
 
Blueblood beat a hasty retreat.
 





 
An hour or so later Blueblood was feeling rather better, he’d washed, prepared the table for his guests and picked out a few excellent bottles of wine. There didn’t seem to be much else for him to do so he took a seat in the living room and poured himself a drink. If nothing else he did have a copious store of alcohol for the festivities, although it might be an idea to make sure he kept his father away from it. From the kitchen he could still hear the sounds of frantic preparation, he was just going to get up and once again ask if he could help when the door was thrown open to reveal Pinkie. Her coat was splattered with countless food stains and her normally buoyant mane was hanging limp.
 
“I can’t fix this,” she cried, “There’s too much to do, it’s all going to go wrong and your family will come and they’ll be unhappy and my family will come and see how much of a disappointment I am and they’re all laugh at me not with me and..  and...”
 
In that moment all the joy seemed to drain out of her and Blueblood didn’t think he had ever seen her looking less like herself. He was out of his chair and next to her in a flash, for a moment he didn’t know what to say or do, then he remembered what she had done when he was like this, “Hug?” he said.
 
“You think a hug can fix this?” yelled Pinkie trying to push him away.
 
“A hug makes everything better,” he reached forwards and engulfed the smaller pony in his grasp holding her tight.
 
He was right.
 
A hug makes everything better.
 
“You are not a disappointment, to anyone,” he said fiercely, “There was a,” he sought for the right word, “misunderstanding. Your father wants to apologize for what he said.”
 
“But he said I was useless on the farm,” she sobbed.
 
“He should be here in a few hours, just talk to him, he’ll explain it to you.” He so wanted to tell her what he'd been told but she should hear it from her family.
 
“Oh, I can’t do it all. There’s too much still to do. I have to make the best meal ever, I have to show your parents I deserve you and show my parents I’m not a disappointment and there's no time,” her voice slowly increase in pitch as she continued.
 
“Pinkie, stop,” commanded Blueblood. “There’s no need to make the best meal ever, anything you make will be fine. You’re the third best baker in Ponyville remember.”
 
“But Mr and Mrs Cake are better, maybe I should go to Ponyville and get them?”
 
“Take a deep breath and tell me what you still have to do.”
 
She took a deep breath and began to unleash a stream of baking jargon that Blueblood didn’t understand a word of.
 
“Can you make that simpler?” he asked.
 
“You are useless!" she shrieked, "Why can’t you do anything but talk and spend money?” then she realised what she had said and shoved a hoof in her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” she babbled.
 
Her outburst hurt but he knew she wasn’t in her right mind. “That’s alright,” he hugged her again, “I should have paid more attention to what you do. When all of this is over you can teach me how to cook, maybe if I make Luna a cake she’ll listen to some of my ideas?” he tried to smile.
 
Pinkie stared at him for a moment, then started to laugh, she fell to the floor and began to roll around, “Maybe if you make a marble cake or a rock cake she’ll let you export more stone, or you make a cobbler and she makes everyone wear shoes, or...” she dissolved in a fresh cacophony of giggles.
 
There was the sound of something boiling over from the kitchen and she struggled to her hooves, staggering into the other room she turned down the hob. Blueblood stared at the kitchen, the walls were covered with splashes of food and the sink contained a pile of dishes reaching almost to the ceiling, the bag of flour had been slashed open and its remains laid in a corner, its content had been used to write the message ‘I must not talk so much’ on the floor. Blueblood decided to ignore that for the moment. However, the kitchen also contained dozens of plates of completed or part completed meals lined up on the tables. “You did all this in an hour?” he asked in amazement.
 
“It’s not enough, this has to be perfect.”
 
“It already is, you made it. Now is there anything really, really simple I can do? Remember to use words of one syllable of less,” he added with a smile.
 
“Well I suppose you could chop the carrots,” she said pointing at a cutting board with a knife driven at least an inch into it.
 
“I think I can do that,” said Blueblood looking a little concerned, before starting his assigned task.
 





 
The next few hours passed like a blur, Pinkie set Blueblood a near endless stream of simple tasks while she prepared the more complex dishes. Prince even persuaded her to take half an hour off to clean herself up and she returned looking much more like herself, her hair even regained its normal frizz.
 
To both of their surprise most of the dishes were almost finished by the time there was a knock from the door. A quick check of the clock revealed that it was likely one of the other of their families.
 
“It looks like it’s showtime,” commented Blueblood straightening his bowtie.
 
“You keep them busy. I’ll finish off the dinner,” said Pinkie rushing him out of the room.
 
Steeling himself Blueblood approached the front door as if it was about to grow tentacles and attack him. He wasn’t sure if we was hoping it would be his parents or the Pie’s. He was at least used to his parents behaviour but he had gotten on well with the Pie’s the last time he had seen them, and surely Blinkie would tone down her behaviour if her sister were present.
 
He pushed open the door to reveal his parents dressed in their finery. “Prince!” cried his mother with a smile, she leaned forwards and muzzled him. “Merry Hearth’s Warming. Now this might be a surprise," she examined her son's face, "This isn't a surprise is it?"

"Pinkie told me you were coming a few hours ago,"

"Well I’m so glad you invited us... Oh wait you didn’t your delightful marefrend did.” She scowled slightly.
 
“I thought you would be too busy with your own party, and you know how busy I am here in Canterlot,” he lied.
 
His father stepped forwards and the two of them cautiously shook hooves, “Nice to see you son,” said Baron somewhat stiffly, Prince was surprised that it seemed his father hadn’t started drinking yet. Looking into the older stallions eyes Prince saw something odd, the slight look of contempt his father normally gave him seemed to have been replaced with, could it be hope..?
 
“Now where is Pinkie?” asked Prestige, pushing past her son.
 
“She’s in the kitchen working on the dinner,” said Prince.
 
“What about the servants?” she asked sounding confused.
 
“I gave them all the day off.”
 
“Even old Duty?” asked Baron, “I’ve not known him to have a Hearth’s Warming off in forty years.”
 
“Then I think he was about due one,” said Prince shutting the door and ushering his parents into the sitting room.
 
“You should probably make sure the windows are all locked dear,” noted Prestige. “There was a group of commoners sniffing around in the street outside, probably planning a robbery.”
 
Prince froze, “Were there four of them? A stallion, an older mare and two younger mares?”
 
“Why, yes. I think I saw them at our hotel, a bunch of drunkards,” she said looking pointedly at her husband who had started to pour a drink.
 
Maybe he should have given better directions, thought Prince. “Say here,” he instructed before rushing out of the house. The chill hit him as he ran out into the snow. Looking around he saw the Pies just turning the corner. “Clyde! Sue!” he called. They stopped and turned towards him. The four members of the Pie family were dressed in what Blueblood assumed were their best clothes. They looked better than he expected they would, Clyde’s suit was well cut although its style hadn’t been fashionable for twenty or more years, Blueblood had a feeling he might have gotten married in it. Inkie’s dress was a practical dark grey which suited her and to his relief Blinkie’s dress was not as daringly cut as he had feared, although it was far more colourful than the rest of the family.
 
“Ah there you are,” noted Clyde leading the family towards Blueblood, “We must have missed you.”
 
“I said we should have asked for directions,” said Sue.
 
“Glad you could make it,” said Blueblood leading the family into his house, they gazed around at the decorations.
 
“I see Pinkie’s had her hoof in this,” said Clyde with a smile.
 
“Where is my daughter anyway?” asked Sue.
 
“She’s in the kitchen right now, I’ll go get her in a minute. I’ll just show you to the sitting room. It’s rather unexpected but my parents are here as well,” he explained.
 
“I’d like to meet them,” said Clyde. “I hope they’re regular folks, not like some of the snobs at the hotel. There was this one couple, the stallion had his hooves all over Sue,” he growled, “As for the mare, she was rude to Blinkie and acted like she had a stick up her plot.”
 
“Pleased to meet you too," said Prestige from across the room staring daggers at the Pies as they arrived, "Has your daughter sobered up yet?”
 
Blueblood fought against the instinct to curl up into a little ball and weep, “Mother, these are Pinkie’s parents Clydesdale and Sugar and her sisters Blinkastasia and Inkabella. Clyde these are my parents Baron and Prestige.”
 
The two families stood staring at each other. This is going to be a very long day, thought Blueblood. “I’ll just see how Pinkie’s doing in the kitchen shall I?” he asked. No one replied. “I’ll be back with her in a minute. Just make yourself comfortable.” The two families continued to stare. Blueblood fled the room as quickly as his hooves would carry him.
 





 
The kitchen was still a hive of activity with Pinkie rushing between the various almost completed dishes.
 
“Who was it?” she asked not taking her eyes off of a cake she was carefully squeezing a glaze of pink icing onto.
 
“My parents... and then yours, they’re all in the sitting room.”
 
Pinkie’s ear twitched again, “And are they having a super fun time?” she mumbled around the icing bag in her mouth, “Have they become the best of friends ever?”
 
Blueblood so wanted to lie, but such a deceit would be obvious once Pinkie left the kitchen to enter the black hole of awkwardness that the sitting room had no doubt become. “They haven't had the best of starts,” he said cautiously, “Apparently they’ve met before at the hotel, and not under good circumstances.”
 
Icing splattered all over the wall. “We’ll it’s a shame I can’t see them, I have so much to do in this kitchen. Where they aren’t,” squeaked Pinkie hopping to another dish.
 
“Pinkie you have to come and see them, they’re your family.”
 
“I can’t hear you, I’m cooking,” she sang.
 
“Pinkie, please. It won't be that bad, I’ll be with you.”
 
“But I’ve got so much else to do,” she pleaded desperately.
 
Blueblood muzzled his lover, “You can spare a few minutes to meet your family. You’ve done a marvellous job, most of it’s finished.” He gently led her towards the door to the sitting room.
 
“But... but..”
 
“Come on, we can do this together,” he gave her a slight tug with his magic.
 
“I can’t do this,” she whined.
 
“Come on,” he said forcefully and he increased the power of his magic slightly, however, in his nervous state he miscalculated and suddenly Pinkie was catapulted through the door. She grabbed onto him as she passed and they were both sent sprawling into the other room in a collection of limbs.
 
Blueblood tried to pick himself up but Pinkie had landed on him pinning his back to the ground. She was apparently frozen in place straddling him, staring at the surprised faces of her family. Her grin was even wider than normal but didn’t reach her eyes.
 
There was a moment's silence which stretch into two, maybe two and a half moments before Pinkie’s mother reacted by rushing over to her daughter and lifting her off of Blueblood and into a hug.
 
“Pinkie!” she cried spinning her daughter around, giving Blueblood time to pick himself up. “It’s so good to see you.”
 
“Mama!” sobbed Pinkie.
 
Inkie and Blinkie joined their mother and sister in a group hug, Clyde remained at a distance looking awkwardly at his family. Blueblood caught sight of his mother out of the corner of his eye, her normally icy facade cracked at the sight of the joyful reunion then a second later her mask was back in place.
 
Eventually the ball of Pie mares split apart and Pinkie awkwardly trotted towards Clyde, “Father,” she said shyly.
 
“Pinkamena. Good to see you. You’ve grown,” he said awkwardly.
 
“Upwards and outwards,” joked Pinkie.
 
They stood a pace apart for a moment then Clyde stepped forwards and gave his daughter a gentle hug, “Happy Hearth’s Warming,” he said. She froze for a second before returning his affection with interest.
 
Clyde eventually had to extract himself from his child’s grip. Pinkie’s smile lit up the room, for the first time in several hours is seemed genuine. “Oh, this is going to be the best Hearth’s Warming ever,” she cried, “We’re going to have games and music and dancing and presents and food and everything. Wait food! I’ve got to get back to the kitchen.”
 
“Maybe I could give you a hoof dear?” asked Sue.
 
Both Pinkie and Blueblood thought about the elder Pie’s cooking for a moment, “No!” they both cried out.
 
“I mean, you’re our guest, we couldn’t possibly have you help,” said Blueblood after glancing at Sue's hurt expression.
 
“Uh huh,” agreed Pinkie nodding rapidly, “It’s almost done anyway. Just a few more things to do,” she explained before hopping off back into the kitchen.
 
“Would anypony like a drink?” asked Blueblood.
 
“What have you got?” asked Blinkie.
 
“Are you sure you should?” asked Prestige, “We’ve all seen how you were last night.”
 
Blinkie glared at the older mare, then gave an insincere smile “I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m still young, I recover quickly. That’s a nice dress by the way, not many mares of your age could pull it off.”
 
Baron gave a laugh which he quickly hid with a cough as his wife turned her gaze to him.
 
“So drinks?” said Blueblood again, starting to sweat.
 
“I’ll have a cider,” said Clyde.
 
Blueblood desperately searched through his almost legendary drinks cabinet, it was larger than Luna herself and contained over two hundred bottles, he had to have something as simple as cider. Ah, there it was between a bottle of fifty year old whisky and the absinth. It was an Apple Trust special blend, he’d been given it when they started to plant a new orchard in Hyasanguia. He cracked open the bottle and poured it into a large glass.
 
“I’ve always been more of a spirits stallion,” said Baron joining his son at the drinks cabinet, “Cider always seems such a common drink. Still each to his own, I suppose.”
 
Blueblood felt like facehoofing, his father probably hadn’t been trying to be insulting, probably. Still it was clear from the darkening of the earth pony stallions face that he was less than happy about the unicorns comment.
 
“There’s nothing wrong with a cold cider at the end of a hard days rock farming,” Clyde growled.
 
“Rock farming? Is that a pretentious way of saying you’re a miner?” asked Prestige.
 
“No, it is not,” fumed Clyde putting down his drink, “Any fool can be a miner, rock farming takes skill.”
 
“I’ll have you know that many of my subjects in Hyasanguia are miners,” said Baron.
 
“Oh, it must be nice to have fools, I mean subjects to do everything for you,” cut in Sue.
 
“I thought Prince was the ruler of Hyasanguia,” said Inky seemingly ignoring the arguments breaking out around her.
 
“Since my retirement from the night court,” said Baron. Prince winced, the scandal that had caused his father to drop out of his position was a sore point for the older unicorn. “Prince acts as the provinces spokespony at court but I still administer the province itself.”
 
“And what exactly does administering mean you do?” asked Clyde, “Sitting in an office all day letting others do all the hard work?”
 
Blueblood had had enough, “All of you stop acting like foals!” he hissed, glancing towards the kitchen door. “This is supposed to be a day for families to come together not bicker and argue.” He passed his gaze over the ponies in front of him, none could meet his eyes, “Now Pinkie has been working very hard to make this the best Hearth’s Warming ever, she nearly had a break down over it. Now you apparently hate each other for some reason but at least try to just pretend to be able to tolerate each other for one day!”
 
“Now see here,” blustered Baron, “You can’t talk to me like this.”
 
“I can and I am Father. You had your chance to run this family and you blew it. I’m in charge now and you will listen to me. Is. That. Clear.” Baron nodded looking ashamed, “Good, if it were my choice I’d have thrown all of you out already but I’m doing this for Pinkie and she deserves the best Hearth’s Warming ever so she’s going to get it. Have I made myself clear?”
 
Everypony nodded.
 
“Good, now I’m going to see if she needs any more help in the Kitchen and when I get back I want to see some perfect families.” With that he turned and strolled from the room, rather proud that he hadn’t thrown up.
 





 
Blueblood returned to the kitchen to see Pinkie loading dish after dish of food into her new saddle bags, he was glad to see that they were being useful.
 
“How is everything going? Are they getting on like the bestest friends ever?” she asked.
 
“Like a house on fire.” Lots of screaming at each other, he thought.
 
Pinkie froze in place, “Oh, I forgot to make bread sauce, who has hearth’s Warming without bread sauce?” She ran off to the back of the kitchen again.
 
“Pinkie,” called Blueblood, “I don’t like Bread sauce.” He didn’t even know what it was, it didn’t sound appealing, “And neither do my parents,” he lied, “Do yours?”
 
“Well... no. It even makes Inkie sick.”
 
“So I think we can do without it don’t you?” he said patiently.
 
“Ok.”
 
“Good, now I’ll help you take the food to the dining room, I’ve laid out the places.”
 
Pinkie slipped on her saddle bags staggering a bit at the weight which was not reduced by their enchantments while Blueblood lifted the remaining plates in his aura. The dining room was designed for larger gatherings and Blueblood had positioned them and their guests near the centre of the single long table, he had placed himself between his parents with Pinkie opposite flanked by her parents as well ensuring Blinkie was well out of hoofs reach.
 
They placed bowl after bowl of goodies on the table until almost the entire space was filled.
 
“Pinkie, I think you might have gone a little over the top.”
 
“I had to make sure everypony had their favourite so I had to make everything," she explained. "I hope they like it.”
 
Blueblood nuzzled his marefriend, “I’m sure they will love it.” They better, he thought darkly.
 
Still holding Pinkie Blueblood walked through into the sitting room where the two families were sitting staring at each other in silence. At least it was better than the bickering. “Dinner is served,” he announced holding the door open for his guests to pass through.
 
Each pony took their indicated places and sat awkwardly for a moment. A bead of sweat rolled down Blueblood’s neck.
 
Pinkie broke the ice, she reached out for the various dishes and started to pile food onto her plate. “Cooking always makes me hungry,” she said, “Sometimes I eat more ingredients than I cook, but not this time,” she noted.
 
Rather more cautiously each pony started to select morsels from the dishes around them. Prestige levitated a fork full of potatoes and took a mouthful. “Do you like it?” asked Pinkie with a slight quaver in her voice.
 
Prestige swallowed then opened her mouth before closing it again and smiling in astonishment. “They are wonderful. So fluffy and what is that taste?”
 
“It’s garlic, you mix in lots of garlic butter and let them sit for a while before cooking,” announced Pinkie with a smile.
 
“You really must give my cook the recipe.”
 
“Pinkie’s always been a wonderful cook,” noted Clyde with Pride, Pinkie glowed at the compliment.
 
Blueblood let out a deep sigh, maybe they could get through this meal without a small war breaking out. He noticed his father staring across the table at Sue who was eating directly from her plate. The stallion opened his mouth to speak but his son caught his gaze and shook his head before leaning forwards and taking several chunks of parsnip into his mouth.
 
“The weather in Canterlot has been excellent don't you think?” asked Prestige making conversation.
 
“Yes,” noted Sue, “We don’t get much snow on the farm, it’s so expensive these days.”
 
“You pay for your own?”
 
“We’re too far out of the way for most of the weather service beyond the bare necessities. Not that the farm needs much but storms and the like can help the rocks.”
 
Much to Blueblood’s surprise polite conversation seemed to be breaking out over the table. Maybe this would be a success after all. He beamed across at Pinkie who smiled back and gently tapped his legs with her own under the table.
 
Soon the main course was over and Pinkie and Blueblood cleared away the remaining food (there was quite a lot) before replacing it with mountains of cakes, cookies and cheeses. Last of all was the traditional Hearth’s Warming cake, a heavy fruit cake cut in the shape of a heart. Arranged on top were figures of the various pony tribes made out of icing, they were exquisitely carved, Blueblood wouldn’t have been surprised if they had started to move about.
 
“You made all that this morning?” he whispered.
 
“Well I brought most of it with me last night but I wanted to make everything perfect. Now watch this.”
 
Pinkie carefully measured out the contents of several of the bottles from his drinks cabinet, biting her tongue in concentration, before splashing the resulting mixture over the cake.
 
“Light it up,” she ordered.
 
Unsure what was happening Blueblood generated a spark from his horn. With a whoosh and a flash the cake was illuminated by a pink flame hovering over the cake in the shape of a heart. Everypony looked on in astonishment. “Happy Hearth’s Warming,” cried Pinkie.
 





 
“I don’t think I’ll ever need to eat again,” grumbled Clyde dropping heavily onto a chair.
 
“Me too,” agreed Baron, “Although you could always do with more meat on your bones dear,” he continued indicating Prestige who scowled.
 
After their colossal meal the guests had retired back to the sitting room, Pinkie had originally said she was going to wash the dishes but Blueblood had encouraged her to leave them for the staff tomorrow and to have a rest after this morning’s exertions so she was sitting next to him on a settee.
 
“That was really an excellent meal,” said Prestige, “My compliments to the che.. I mean to you. Now my husband and I brought the two of you a little something.” She levitated two large boxes from among the luggage they had brought with them. They bore the seal of Trot Oldhoof on them.
 
Pinkie tore into them revealing the contents. Prestige flinched a bit as wrapping flew everywhere. Inside were a matching suit and dress done in blue and white. “I do hope they fit,” said the unicorn mare, “I had to guess your size and I don’t see my son often enough now a days to know if he’s changed.”
 
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be perfect,” squealed Pinkie laying the material over herself, “Thank you!” she leapt over and hugged Prestige, the older mare looked shocked for a moment then returned the gesture in a more reserved fashion. Pinkie moved on to Baron who in turn squeezed her tightly.
 
“I can see why my son likes you,” he commented, “You’re very huggable, plush even.” Pinkie giggled and untangled herself from the older stallion.
 
“We got you something as well,” noted Clyde, he produced a small wooden box and passed it to Pinkie.
 
She opened it carefully, within was a small pebble about the size of a starlings egg, the outside was painted in intricate swirls of pink and blue and wire was wrapped around each end, forming a sort of necklace. “The girls decorated it,” explained the stallion.
 
“Oh gosh,” gasped Pinkie, “Is that a heart stone?”
 
“Yes,” said Sue with a smile.
 
“Bluie,” cried Pinkie excitedly, “Put your hoof on the stone.”
 
He obeyed looking confused and Pinkie did the same, with a crack the stone broke into two equal halves revealing glittering crystals inside. Blueblood drew his hoof back worried that he had damaged the present but nopony else seemed upset.
 
“Now you wear it,” said Pinkie placing one half around her neck, Blueblood followed suit.
 
“Now if you think about Pinkie the stone will tell you where she is,” explained Clyde.
 
Blueblood closed his eyes and concentrated on Pinkie, her energy, beauty and uniqueness, everything that made her her. To his surprise the necklace seemed to tug a bit towards the seat next to him and he could sense a certain warmness where he knew Pinkie was sitting.
 
He opened his eyes again, “Thank you Mr and Mrs Pie, Inkie and Blinkie too.”
 
“Me and the wife have one,” said Clyde pulling his tie aside to reveal a slightly larger and drabber stone.
 
“It’s only a rock,” mumbled Prestige.
 
Sue turned to the other mare, “A very rare rock,” she snarled, “We only produce one like that every few years. It’s probably worth almost as much as your present, and it's more useful as well.”
 
“Well, I never,” exclaimed Prestige.
 
Next to him Blueblood felt Pinkie stiffen, the smile on her face becoming pained, he rested his hoof on hers. “I’m sure neither of you mean to be insulting,” he said through gritted teeth. “Both of your presents are wonderful, thank you.”
 
Both of the mare’s settled back down into their seats muttering slightly.
 
The minutes ticked by as the two families sat facing each other in silence. Blueblood tried to restart a conversation but it quickly died, next to him Pinkie’s hair seemed to slowly deflate.
 
Suddenly there was a loud knocking from the front door. Blueblood waited for a moment for a servant to answer it, then he remember they were all on holiday and stood up to do it himself, “Excuse me,” he said and headed for the front door leaving a black hole of awkwardness behind him.