The Sour Grapes Chronicles

by The Incredible Werekitty


A Long Dark To A New Year

Grapes woke up at her usual early hour the day after Hearth’s Warming, while her parents, who had been on their happily retired schedule, slept in. She put on her cold weather gear, and got ready to do her morning chores, which didn’t stop on any day, when she heard the oddest buzzing sound.

"The... hey?" Grapes said, looking over the fields to see where the noise was coming from.

The buzzing sound grew louder and louder when she noticed a large cloud of snow rising up over one of the snow-covered hills... then there was a magnificent explosion of white as a large sled flew over it! At a glance she recognized the colors of Ponyville's resident mad inventor in the front seat with his sister, Moondust, at his side, both laughing gleefully as they moved at unsafe speeds. Grapes blinked. The brightly colored sled wasn't being pulled by anything, instead it was apparently being propelled by some manner of giant fan-like apparatus on the back. It crackled with the rich colonial blue magical energy that she recognized as his while it literally blew them forwards. The surprise at the sudden appearance of the contraption meant it took a moment for her to notice the third passenger, despite the noise it was making.

"SPAAAAAACE! SO. MUCH. SPAAAAAAAACE!"

"Oh fewmits, he took the head out for a ride..." Grapes uttered, facehoofing. “Seriously, Redline can’t get off that tea quick enough.” She went through her pre-breakfast chores, as usual, and headed back inside.

As she sat there sipping her tea and eating her breakfast, occasionally she swore she heard that… sled noise and the laughter of it’s riders off in the distance. She should be far more upset at the potential danger they could be in, or Ponyville might be in with such a wacky magical machine moving about it’s perimeter at high speed, but it was strangely touching to see Redline spending time with his sister. And… to be honest… part of her wondered HOW he was able to build these amazing machines. She knew he was TECHNICALLY a genius on par with Twilight Sparkle, and yet… well there were reasons that Equestria was considered a pre-industrial age. With magic they had no NEED to create any more machines than what was actually necessary. Redline seemed to be THE go-to pony for Ponyville when they needed something weird, wonderful and wacky. She thought back to that strange whirlygig device she once saw Pinkie Pie riding across the Ponyville skyline and sighed. That had ‘Redline’ written all over it. She still wasn’t going to be hooked up to Twilight Sparkle’s machine, though. That’s just good common sense, right there.

Of course she was curious what the readings would be, but there was always the risk it would ‘Redline’ her brain. Glancing over at the papers sitting on the table and the interesting paperweight that held them down. She levitated the twisted ball of brass and smirked. It really DID make an neat paperweight, she might lament the loss of a nice pair of calipers but this was definitely more useful to her. She never really used calipers for much. And she could always use something to hold down stray notes.

Everypony seemed to be sleeping in, except for Sour Grapes. Yesterday had been wonderful, to be honest. So there she sat alone, as she finished her breakfast. She then got up, went to the living room, and settled herself in the chair closest to the fireplace, and started to read the paper. Honestly it felt like old times.

She had time to relax and even do the crossword puzzle. She was in the middle of jotting down a ten letter word that meant “the emotions or conduct of camaraderie” starting with “F” when she heard a noise from upstairs. The disturbing sounds of ponies about twenty years older than her, being amorous. She knew in theory it was cute but they were her parents. She gave a slight shudder and downed her coffee, determined to leave the house for an hour or so so they could get it out of their system. Honestly, Sour Grapes could never understand the enjoyment that ponies derived from such activities. She may find out, eventually, should things go well with Stormfront, but she really didn’t want to listen in on her parents personal time. Grapes ended up wandering in the general direction of Ponyville, and found herself by the library, which was, fortunately, open by the time she got there, and Twilight was out sweeping off her walk to keep tracking to a minimum. Even though it was just the day after Hearth’s Warming, Twilight was ever hopeful.

“Hey, Grapes, what brings you by, so early?” Twilight asked, spotting Grapes as she meandered along.

"Not much, really. My parents were playing noisy adult games in my guest room."

"And you teased me about being flustered for saying 'poop'?"

"Yes. Yes I did. What would YOU have called it, Miss Sparkle? Do enlighten me."

"Enjoying mutual stimulation of the Labium oris?"

"... And once again you've earned the title of 'biggest nerd in Ponyville’."

"A title I wear with pride, along with 'egghead'," Twilight asserted.

Somewhere off in the far-off distance they heard Rainbow Dash shout out "Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerd!"

"At least we're not dumb jocks!" Grapes shouted back.

“HEY!” was apparently the best retort in Dash’s repertoire before Twilight and Grapes went inside to avoid further ‘witty’ banter with the pegasus.

“You know she didn’t really mean it, don’t you?” Twilight asked, sounding a touch apprehensive.

“Of course I do, but she doesn’t have to play it cool, all the time. It gets tiresome,” Grapes replied.

“Good point. So… care for a drink? I don’t have a wine cellar but I have a broad selection of teas from a nice unicorn who has a shop near Sugarcube Corner. He’s apparently Redline’s supplier and swears he never knew his product was being abused so… artfully.”

“Really. Good to know. I will have to refrain from persuading Stormfront to let a tornado stray over his shop, since he had no knowledge of Redline’s unique blend made from his offerings,” Grapes observed. “The temptation arose when you mentioned he was Redline’s supplier. Though he should put warning labels on his more caffeinated offerings. ‘Do not mix’ would be a good one.”

“Well, he really is a master at mixing them himself. I suppose he never considered such abuse was possible… especially intentionally. Or that the flavors had been preserved so well. Would you like some tea biscuits with it?”

“Sure, why not,” Grapes chuckled.

Twilight led her into the kitchen where there were several parts of a science experiment going on. Rather than work around it, Twilight filled a teapot and put it on one of the bunsen burners before filling a tea ball with something from a tea tin.

“So, Earshot seemed to be taking the whole Hearths Warming in stride. I can’t imagine how I would ever be able to handle it all if the same thing happened to me.”

“So you wouldn’t be fascinated with a holiday that decorates up the whole town, where friends and loved ones get together exchange gifts, sing songs, and enjoy good food, and lots of sweet things?” Grapes asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Well, yes I would, but I’ve lived through over a dozen since I was able to remember things. This is like… like the ignition of a coal, sulfur and saltpeter compound. BOOM! Right in the middle of his life… Second one this year too, considering he never heard of Nightmare Night until he came here.”

“Well… Usually he goes home. So he knew about it, but had never experienced it. Nightmare Night may have been like black power going BOOM in his face, because the Stormriders kind of hid it from him. They thought it would upset him, because his people revere Luna,” Grapes explained. “Honestly, they should have started with the candy.”

“Oh yes. Candy was always MY first Nightmare Night thought, growing up. So how did last night’s Hearth’s Warming Dinner turn out? Your parents, the Storm Riders, their parents that showed up, you and Stormy getting together? ...oops. Said that last one out loud, didn’t I?”

“What about me and Stormy?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I heard that... Well, under good authority... It’s been mentioned… Okay: Rarity’s a gossip.”

“No. Really? I would have never guessed,” Grapes deadpanned.

“Well she mentioned to me, told me actually, that you and Stormfront shared a very public kiss that knocked you on your haunches and left him a stuttering wreck. I’m not really one to judge romantic situations but that DOES sound like a heck of a kiss.”

“Well considering that I had never, ever been kissed before, and never expected to be kissed, is it any wonder I got knocked on my haunches? And I wonder who told Rarity? Because it was just me, the Storm Riders and my parents, there… Oh. Queenie,” Grapes uttered. “I don’t suppose Queenie shared that she, and the Storm Riders spent the night in the drunk tank for getting into a fight with the Wonderbolts?”

“Well Rarity did mention that she heard it from her sister who was present in the area when you two… locked braces, so-to-speak. And Applejack heard it from hers, and Dash heard it from Scootaloo… which kinda makes sense because there was a lot of damage in the area at that time and so one plus one plus one equals Cutie Mark Crusaders, if you get my algebra. Wait… the Wonderbolts and your Farmhooves were in the drunk tank?”

“And again any prank-styled revenge has been completely and utterly aborted, and you no longer have permission to share the juicy drunk tank gossip with Rarity. Of course it had to be the Terrible Trio that saw and reported,” Grapes uttered with a sigh. “And again, in my defense, never been kissed, never expected to be kissed, so when I got kissed, which was originally aimed for my cheek by the way, it was very unexpected and startling.”

“Okay okay... So it was just a sign of endearment that went horribly right?” Twilight asked, sounding a tad disappointed about not being able to one-up Rarity in the gossip department.

“I guess you could use that turn of phrase, yes,” Grapes said chuckling. “Also, we are, due to both of our inexperience in the realm of romantic relations, taking things slow.”

“Slow? Slow is good. When treading on new scientific ground caution is always good, so understandably applying that to affection can also be sound reasoning. Although it’s hard to say if Rarity would agree,” Twilight said, thoughtfully.

“Well Rarity reads romance novels, so her expectations about relationships are rather unrealistic, extremely skewed, and based upon fantasy,” Grapes observed.

“So how is Earshot doing? He experienced Hearth’s Warming last night, I expect lots of notes on it in that notebook I gave him.”

“I think he forgot his own discovery of ‘Too much of a good thing’ from Nightmare Night. When I last saw Earshot he was on his back, slowly digesting five helpings of Hearth's Warming dinner, three plates of cookies, one Elderberry Pie, a full jug of cider and most of the roof of one Gingerbread house,” Grapes listed with a small eyeroll.

"That’s our little glutton. But seriously, he must have one heck of a metabolism to survive that much Hearth's Warming in one go."

“I think he was trying to experience as much as possible for his Kinsponies,” Grapes commented. “But, honestly, he really shouldn’t be so willing to experience the stomachache.”

“If he manages to digest all of that and be up for more today, I’m going to have to hook HIM up in my Science Dungeon to see what makes that little guy so resilient.”

“No… And… did you just call your basement a ‘science dungeon’?”

“Sorry. Pinkie Pie called it that once and the name kinda stuck in my head. Say… What if I get Doctor Crabapple to do it for me?”

“That machine was STILL built by Redline, and in a way I am responsible for the little guy. So no way in Tartarus.”

“I meant have him do the examination. You might be responsible for them but I don’t remember any of them talking about the medical exams you’re supposed to be supplying your Farmshooves with.”

“Considering I do it every summer on the dot, of course they won’t be worrying about the examination until then,” Grapes replied. It’s a yearly thing, and I always get Doc Crabapple to do them.”

“I know. I found out about the whole medical thing from the Mayor when I took over the library. Turns out as a paid employee of Ponyville’s government I get the same ‘free’ medical examinations… although I never got Dr. Crabapple like your ponies.”

“Oh? Really? Who’d you get saddled with?” Grapes asked.

“You ever meet Dr. Coldhoof?”

“Once,” Grapes said flatly.

“Yeah. MY evaluation of him is that he’s competent, professional, and very intelligent. Oh yes… as compassionate as a frozen block of spinach… and hooves about the same temperature.”

“I think you can request a change of doctor,” Grapes observed. “That or they didn’t want to tick off the wine supplier. I had the same opinion of the chilled doctor, and very humbly requested Doctor Crabapple.”

“I should. From the information I’ve been getting he sounds like a great general practitioner.”

“He’s also yet another cousin from the Apple side. And while a touch gruff, still quite skilled, and knows how to get somepony to take their medicine,” Grapes observed.

“Good to know. I fuzzily remember his involvement during that… Tea episode.” Twilight paused a moment then frowned, “I STILL Can’t read the notes I made… I get the feeling like I’m missing out on something that’s in them.”

“I’d rather not find out what else you saw when you were looking at the universe,” Grapes deadpanned. “It may be for the best, really. If you’ve read anything by that writer Non-Euclidean Geometry, things that lurk beyond the universe are really really scary, and hungry, and not friendly at all.”

“Oh yes… You may have a point. So did you have fun last night? I know I did. Spent time with the whole group at the Jade Stable. Even met a nice Griffon there.”

“Really? Old fellow, kind of gruff?” Grapes asked.

“Oh yes. Looked like he wasn’t just over the hill but dug right through it. He had a very broad variety of subjects he knew about, but he seemed to find it most entertaining to hear what we had to say about our friendship and bizarre adventures.”

“I bet that was interesting,” Grapes observed. “But yeah, we had a lot of fun. The tag team of my Mom, Mrs. Hotspur, and even Mrs. Stormbound came up with some amazing food. Ah Mrs. Stormbound is Stormfront’s mom by the way… And so help me if you even mention ‘parental approval’... Though the company is clearing out soon. Firestormer’s family still has a business to run, and Mrs. Stormbound will be getting back on her year-long cruise she won from the lottery.”

“The lottery? Oh yes, she must have been the one to win the Royal Equestria Lottery. When I was younger I wished I could have won and gone on that trip to so many fascinating places… but it would have looked SO bad for the Princess’ personal pupil to do that.”

“Well you could have claimed it as a year-long sabbatical to get some real-world experience,” Grapes suggested with a grin.

“Yeah, but there would be a lot of ponies who would equate the ‘royal’ part of the lottery with some kind of nepotism if I won it. Also I was always more comfortable in libraries.”

“I noticed,” Grapes said with a smile.

“Of course I don’t know if Celestia would have let me take the trip anyways… I hate to say it but… Every so often, I can’t help but look at my coming here with just a shade of paranoia. When I discover a terrible prediction of planetary proportions, I’m packed up and shipped to just the right location for that threat to appear and it’s solution is also nearby… relatively speaking. I’m scheduled to meet just the right ponies, find just the right reference book and be in the right location at the right time with said right ponies to somehow miraculously work out how to use the Elements of Harmony by discovering the magic of friendship. It all sounds as romantically contrived as a storybook tale, doesn’t it?”

“Possibly. But Princess Celestia has wielded the Elements of Harmony, before, so it’s possible that she has some manner of resonance with them to know who could use them in the future. Again there are a lot of unknowns we can’t account for.”

“Yeah. She might have hoped I’d learn how to make friends so I COULD harness the elements but for a plan as complex her pre-planning everything… the smallest deviation could have DERAILED everything. Heck I could have just as easily ditched my duties and sent Spike around to check everything while I went straight to the library. The world could have been a very different place then. ….Hmf. Probably best we don’t think too deeply on that.”

“Maybe for the best,” Grapes said with a nod. “Applejack would have befriended you, because that’s just the way she is. Pinkie too. She likes to be friends with everypony.”

“Oh yeah… If there was a big button that would allow Pinkie Pie to just, I dunno… ‘Friend’ everypony at once I think she would be constantly pressing it.”

“I know, right?” Grapes said, with a laugh. “She’d find a way to spread smiles everywhere she could.”

“So… you got to meet his mom, huh? Hope your future… friend...ship… with her is good. Is she nice?”

“Yes, but she’s fond of embarrassing nicknames for poor Stormy,” Grapes said with a chuckle.

“Ah just like every other parent out there. So what’s Stormfront’s?”

“Well since my parents, Firestormer’s parents, and the Storm Riders know…” Grapes started and sighed. “Flopsy. It’s Flopsy. Mine’s Raisinette. So what’s yours?”

“Uhhhh… would you believe me if I told you I didn't have one?”

“No,” Grapes said, flatly.

“Well.. my parent’s name for me was Sparky.”

“That’s cute,” Grapes said with a grin.

“Yeah… cute until you realize my first spells kinda were as impressive as static electricity. Sure they were a big deal to me as a foal but…” Twilight paused a moment then grinned, “Now that I think about it, they WERE kinda cute. I think I can live with Sparky.”

“I can think of worse ones,” Grapes said with a grin. “You doing anything on the Solstice? We’re celebrating a Night Pony holiday, and I thought you’d like to observe.”

“Really? A Night Pony holiday? I’d LOVE to…” she stopped and glanced around nervously. “Does… Pinkie Pie know about this?”

“She will. And I will be sure to tell her it’s Earshot’s celebration, and she’d need to learn about it, before she throws a party for it,” Grapes said with a sigh.

“Well, okay. She means well, but sometimes her enthusiasm is just so… overpowering.”

“I am well aware of that, yes,” Grapes said, dully. “That’s why she’s easier to take in small, controlled doses. Maybe I should go and take care of that while I’m thinking about it…”

“Good plan. So when is this happening?”

“...The...winter...solstice…” Grapes said slowly, as if it should have been quite obvious.

“Wait… so THAT’S why he wanted all that information on it? I thought it was just… you know… him trying to get the most out of his nocturnal nature. ...or is it diurnal now?”

“There’s a Night Pony holiday on the winter solstice called ‘Long Dark’. It’s a commemoration of the struggles that Earshot’s people went through, when they were seeking refuge from the day ponies vengeance for Nightmare Moon,” Grapes said with a shrug. “And… I think he adjusts to whenever suits.”

“So… it’s a holiday of observance? Informing Pinkie in advance WOULD be a good idea. Oh… Tea’s ready.”

Twilight poured each of them a cup and led her into the actual library, motioning for her to have a seat on the couch while she took the comfy chair.

“This will be fascinating, he answered quite a few questions before but apologized that he wasn’t allowed to answer them all because of promises to his kin. I can’t imagine how hard that must be for somepony so naturally outgoing.”

Grapes sipped her tea, and nodded. “I know. But we were working on getting permission, because of my sending a package full of Hearth’s Warming stuff to them.”

“I hope you got some photographs of the whole thing for him. Some of what happens really needs to be seen to be believed.” she thought about it a moment then smiled “I’m going to have to remember to bring my camera for Long Dark, this should be documented in as many ways as possible.”

Grapes just chuckled. “We did get some pictures. And I’m going to be getting some scrap-booking stuff for them, so Earshot will have something to send back home. Made sure to get some pictures of the decorations around town, too,” Grapes said. “I think the Cakes may be taking today off… do you know where else I could find a certain pink pony during the winter season?”

“Well, you could just stick your head out a window and say ‘I need a party’ and that might be enough, but if you want something more serious you could head down to the pond. Pinkie mentioned she was going to head down there today for a while.”

“All right. I’ll go and look for her, there. Thanks for the tea and refuge, Twilight,” Grapes said, finishing said tea, and getting up, and putting on her scarf.

“It’s always good to have another bibliophile to talk to around here. At times I wish I knew somepony like you back at CSFGU, might have made things even MORE interesting.”

“If I had an Earth Pony sibling, I might have ended up there,” Grapes said with a grin. “Anyway, I’d better go and catch a hyper pink pony before she gets tired of practicing her skating.”
___________________________________________________________

Grapes watched as Pinkie Pie glided across the ice and felt a little envy. She could bust a good move or two on land but Pinkie had a gift for ice skating. She was about to call out to her when there was motion above in the form of the glittering form of Queenie, clad in just a bright blue scarf, descending to the surface of the pond.

“Ah. Pinkie Pie. I thought that was you. From above it’s hard to mistake that shade of pink for anypony else,” Queenie said with a smile.

“Hi, Queenie! You here to ice skate too?” Pinkie inquired cheerfully.

“I hadn’t planned on it but you make it look so inviting. I had no idea you were an accomplished skater.”

“Thanks, Queenie! I’ve been doing this since I was an itty-bitty, little, little, twinkie Pinkie. It just comes naturally.”

“You know, I think I shall join you. It’s been a while since I’ve just… enjoyed winter and it’s bounties`.”

“Well you better get your skates then. You won’t get far ice skating without ice skates.”

“Where I come from… you don’t need skates. Well you often do, but those ponies who have the knack for it, don’t. ”

Queenie stepped out on the ice, and gently pushed off with one hind leg, sending herself gliding gracefully towards Pinkie, then curving around her in a wide circle. It was amazing to see her accomplish such smooth motion without any blades upon her hooves.

“Wow… how are you doing that?”

“Just a little trick I picked up… that and I always did have an affinity for ice and snow.”

“Oh yeah! Twilight said you made those super-duper statues of us for her party the other day. I loved them, although it was strange to see me in ice. I mean is my hair really that big?”

“It’s possible that the hair was made a bit bigger to compensate for any balance issues,” Grapes said from the sidelines. “Any sculpture has to be carefully balanced to keep it from collapsing under its own weight. A lot of sculptures, especially those that are made with a solid medium sometimes have armatures to help support them. Ice, though, is translucent, and quasi transparent, so other measures have to be taken.”

The pink and blue ponies turned to locate the source of the new voice, before Pinkie waved a friendly hoof.

“Hey, It’s Grapesie!!! Hiiiiiieeeeee!!!”

“Oh, hello Grapes. Didn’t see you there. Come to get in some skating practice?” Queenie asked with a smile.

“No, actually. I don’t know the first thing about skating,” Grapes replied. “And I’m not about to faceplant into a hard cold surface for your personal amusement. I was stopping by to invite Pinkie to the Long Dark celebration, on the solstice.”

“A celebration? WHOOHOO! I… wait… Long Dark? What is that? Sounds kinda spooky? *GASP!* Do we get to wear costumes and tell spoooky stories and eat candy and…?”

“No. Pinkie. It’s a Night Pony holiday commemorating the hardship they went through escaping persecution after the whole Nightmare Moon debacle,” Grapes explained. “We’re celebrating it with Earshot, since I sent his people some stuff about Hearth’s Warming. You can learn about the holiday, and if you think you can effectively throw a party for it, next year, you can try, but THIS year you’re ONLY observing and participating.”

“Oh… Well that’s good. A whole new reason to throw a party is always a good reason to throw a party. And it’s on the solstice too? That’s the longest night of the year… *GASP!* Maybe THAT’S why it’s called Long Dark. We’ll be pulling the longest all-nighter of the year!”

“Brilliant. She figured it out,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “Hm. Maybe I should head to Rarity’s since I’m closer to town than to Applejack’s… Give Rarity her invitation, while I’m out and about. See you on the solstice, Pinkie.”

Grapes made her exit but cast a glance back to catch a final glimpse of the two ice-skating ponies. Queenie demonstrating a figure eight, and Pinkie doing a one-up on her with a figure sixteen.

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Sour Grapes trotted back into town, humming cheerfully, as she made her way to the Carousel Boutique and she stopped a moment. There was a a little wooden sign at the front of the path, sunk into the ground. It simply read “Closed for Inventory. Try again tomorrow”. That didn’t make much sense. Rarity had come to her farm to cherry pick the best wine she had in stock. Not most expensive… BEST wine. Mind you, it happened to be the most expensive, but somehow Grapes seemed to just have the touch needed to get Sun’s Spring Glory grapes to cooperate. She had told her it was specifically for her biggest client, (not counting Oneton, the sumo pony). The dither she had been in showed a certain frantic energy and urgency to have everything ‘perfect’ in time for her/his arrival. All that just to close up for inventory?

It seemed highly unlikely.

She moved down the neatly cleaned sidewalk to the door and raised a hoof to knock but stopped when she heard music playing from within. It sounded like good old-fashioned swing and… conversation too. Rarity’s voice and a male’s. She slipped around to the side where heavy velvet drapes had parted enough to allow JUST a crack of light to escape. She really shouldn’t, but… Grapes sidled over, and took a peek into the boutique.

“Are you enjoying the wine, your grace?”

“Ah Rarity, your choice of wine, like everything else, is superb. I’m especially pleased at the way it complements the assortment of cakes you’ve supplied.”

“Yes, well I have found it helps to take the advice of the Wine’s creator when looking for accompaniment. I have some sandwiches for later should you grow tired of sweets, my lord.”

“Oh Rarity, please. I am not here in any true… official capacity. Here in the privacy of your workspace you may refer to me by my given name.”

“Well… if it gives you pleasure… Guaranty.”

“Oh believe me, your craftsmareship is worth a touch of familiarity.”

“Guaranty?” Grapes asked herself, an eyebrow raised, then shook her head, chuckling. “Makes sense…”

She peeked a little closer and caught a glimpse of the kind of body a self-conscious stallion would want covered in thick robes. Yep… that was Guaranty all right. She remembered Equestria’s one and only ‘sinister’ Royal Vizier from her trip to Canterlot and how she found out he was somewhat LESS than sinister. With a smile she trotted over to the front door and knocked upon it with a slight bit of flourish. There was a moment of silence from the duo and then a hurried trotting to the door which cracked open just enough for Rarity to peer out.

“OH! Why, Sour Grapes! How nice to see you… so suddenly… after hours and I have a sign up and everything,” Rarity said, sounding quite flustered.

“Oh, I thought I’d stop by and say ‘hello’ to your guest, and see how well he’s enjoying the wine,” Grapes replied with a smile.

“Oh… well… he’s here… and enjoying it very much, but he’s terribly… shy. Yes. Shy. Not comfortable in the presence of strangers so… “

“Why Rarity… is that Sour Grapes, of the Grapevine Hills Vineyards? By all means, let her in. She and I met at the castle during her last Canterlot visit.” Grapes casually grinned, and made the universal “after you” gesture.

Rarity bit her lower lip and seemed in a moment of pure indecision before opening the door the rest of the way and allowing Grape into her home and business. Inside and on the other side of the drapes that blocked off her inspiration room from the rest of the first floor, Grapes found Guaranty. He was up on a small platform, reading a newspaper that sat on a music stand and sipping a glass of her wine… in the nude. She had never seen ALL of him like this before when last they met, but now she could see just how boney his physique was. No doubt he was one of those ponies doomed to look not just thin, but gaunt. She was certain the word for that was Ectomorphic. He looked away from his paper and smiled at her, those bone-yellow yet sharp-looking teeth.

“Good to see you again Sour Grapes. I had forgotten this was your hometown, but I should have recognized the fine vintage Rarity provided.”

“I honestly should have known your robes were Rarity’s work,” Grapes said as she settled into a chair. “How’s things in stuck-up central?”

“Oh, same old, same old. The usual plots, intrigue, and bureaucratic tedium that is palace life…”

“So no luck with Impertinence, still, I take it?” Grapes asked, with a chuckle.

“Not yet.” he said with that curiously twisted smirk, “But I have my hopes. You seem to have caught me in the middle of my yearly fitting and wearing little more than my birthday suit. Which is somewhat appropriate I suppose.”

“What? Is today your birthday or something?” Grapes asked with a chuckle.

“Actually Yes. I enjoy taking a little ‘me time’ on my birthday, come down here for my fitting, enjoy a meal at a real restaurant… The Jade Stable is really nice, you should try their Tofu Balls. You know… the usual.”

“I just realized something,” Grapes said.

“And what would that be?” he asked, levitating a newspaper up before himself and perusing the news within.

“I shouldn’t have said that out loud…”

“No, darling, you really shouldn’t have,” Rarity said, making a face.

“Why shouldn’t she have said WHAT out loud?” Guaranty asked, curiously.

Pinkie Pie burst forth from an armoire in an explosion of silver confetti, streamers and green balloons. With a large platter of cake balanced on her head and an accordion in between her hooves she began to play it vigorously while dancing a jig.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh… Happy Birthday Royal Vizier
I know it’ll be a Hoot!
Happy Birthday Royal Vizier
I see you’re in your birthday suit!
(And boy does it need ironing)
So Happy Happy Birthday
You don’t have to be mean
So have yourself a slice of cake
And a big bowl of ice-cream!”

“That’s why,” Grapes deadpanned.

There was a moment of total silence as Guaranty looked coolly at the pink pony on bended knee before him with the cake upon her head bearing a single lit candle. He then inhaled and blew softly, extinguishing it. He then extended a hoof and tasted the icing.

“Mmmm. I do believe it is pineapple. How did you know?”

“You just seemed like a pineapple kind of guy, Mister Vizier.”

“Hey, Pinkie, could you go to the Vineyard, and ask Stormfront for a bottle of Colada Carnaval?” Grapes asked.

“Oh! Okie Dokie Lokie!” She sang putting the cake down on a nearby table next to a big bucket of Ice Cream that mysteriously appeared there. Pinkie then dove back into the armoire.

“Don’t ask,” Grapes cautioned Guaranty. “Seriously, don’t. It causes headaches, concussions, contusions, and assorted other injuries. Just ask Twilight Sparkle.”

“Oh believe me I’ve studied the reports, but of all the things I’d only wish to know how she knew it was my birthday. Cakes take time to prepare, even if one were to keep other party paraphernalia stored around Ponyville in case of emergencies.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she does,” Grapes said with a sigh. Just then Pinkie popped back into the room, this time out of a nearby cabinet, holding a bottle full of a glorious golden yellow liquid. “Thank you, Pinkie. And for your birthday, Guaranty, I present to you my Pineapple wine, Colada Carnaval.”

“Why thank you, Sour Grapes. Oh… and although it’s my birthday I have a gift for you, Pinkie Pie.”

“Oh really? What is it? What is it?”

Guaranty straightened himself up and looking right at her, smiled. His lips pulling back to show all his teeth in a broad, warm grin.

“You made me smile.”

Pinkie tilted her head to the side for a moment, then squeed. “Yay! I’m glad to have made you smile, Royal Vizier,” she said gleefully. “And my job here is done! Gotta go, my ponies need me!” With that, Pinkie dove.. into the mirror, much to the three unicorns perplexity.

“But how… that’s… Ugh… I’m getting a headache, and I haven’t even touched the ice cream,” Grapes uttered.

The Royal Vizier walked over to the table and cut a slice of cake and put it onto a plate and added a scoop of ice cream to it. “Then let us remedy that, Sour Grapes. As for Miss Pinkamina Diane Pie’s shenanigans, let’s just say, she is Pinkie Pie, and let it rest at that.”

Grapes took the cake and ice cream with a nod. “All right. Also, friends call me ‘Grapes’... Mainly because only family can get away with calling me sour to my face.”

Rarity accepted her helping of cake and ice cream graciously and watched as Sour Grapes poured out the drink she had retrieved.

“It’s… strangely golden. What is it?” Rarity queried, curiously.

“I said this already… It’s called Colada Carnival, and it’s pineapple wine,” Grapes replied.

“Pineapple wine? You can do that?” Rarity asked, sounding surprised.

“Grapes can make wine from nearly any fruit or vegetable. Why, her Broccoli based wine is actually quite popular right now in higher circles. Especially at the Cheese and Wine parties.”

“I sell it to Princess Celestia for Blue...blood’s birthday present, and all of the sudden, I need to make MORE of the stuff, because he shared it with his friends,” Grapes said laughing.

“It tastes quite terrible but curiously enough you can sell bad taste to the rich as long as they think it’s trendy.”

“Oh! That’s… a terrible thing to say. But… I suppose it’s true, after a fashion. I remember last month’s hemline was so… two months ago.”

“It tastes better with a good, sharp, Trottingham cheddar,” Grapes observed. “But it’s helped me keep ahead of the game, in some areas. So I have to do limited editions of the broccoli wine until the next new thing comes along.” Grapes then observed Rarity’s demeanor. Despite the interlude provided by Pinkie, the fashionista was still, obviously, wary of the Royal Vizier.

“She hasn’t figured it out, has she?” Grapes asked with a smirk. “She has an eye for detail, and knows how to harmonize form, and function; but she just hasn’t seen it. On the other hoof, all I had to do was take one look at you…”

“Well you are far more genre savvy than she is. Her gift is in the art of the dress. By the way, Miss Rarity, what wizardry of fabric and thread have you to bring before me today?”

“Ah, well your grace… I have gotten ahold of a new synthetic fabric that has some remarkable properties to it, when in the correct hooves of course. Slick, shiny and it looks like it’s been made of thousands of tiny scales under the right light. With it your royal court vestige of this season will, no doubt, send chills down everypony’s spine.” She paused for dramatic effect while dropping her voice to a stage whisper, “I call it… The Black Mambaaaaaaaaaa.”

Grapes sniggered a bit, obviously amused by the theatrics. “She names a robe after a particularly deadly snake from Zebrica… Rarity either knows subconsciously, or is getting a kick out of thinking she’s the tailor for a super villain.”

“A SUPER villain? M’yesss, I would love to be considered a SUPER villain, it means you’re better than just a mere villain. You have class, you have STYLE! You have a far better tailor. Mmm… and I have a delicious cake.”

“Never mind a flair for the dramatic. So… How many plays did you try out for when you were in school?” Grapes casually asked, smirking

“Oh quite a few. Usually cast as a heavy. The lead roles always eluded me. I was usually passed over for the ‘pretty faces’, unless you count the CSFGU’s presentation of ‘Happily Ever Laughter’ where I played an emperor who traded his heart for gold or believed he did. More ponies preferred the role of the hero played by our resident Western Hoofball champion Long Bomb. The fool kept tripping over his sword and they STILL loved him. The audience thought it was deliberate comic relief.”

Grapes just grinned at him. “Something about you just screamed ‘frustrated actor’,” she said with a laugh. “Oh, Earshot enjoyed Hearth’s Warming, and the present you sent him. Did you get our cards?”

“Yes. Yes I did. I appreciated them greatly. For some reason nopony ever sends me one. Curious isn’t it?”

Grapes glanced over at Rarity who was biting her lower lip in an attempt to not comment on the conversation as she sorted out fabric samples and designs.

“Can I tell her? It’s probably driving her nuts to see us have a friendly conversation, like this,” Grapes said with a laugh. “After all you are so very obviously a dangerous pony, who should not be treated so casually. Why… it’s almost like we’re friends.”

“What? Evil ponies aren’t allowed to have friends? I am SO shocked! Truly aghast. Oh wait… I’m not supposed to admit I’m evil openly. I’m going to have to lace her food with milk of amnesia later. FAR better than the alternatives I used to use. Oh, those stains in the dungeon were so difficult to get out.”

Rarity’s eyes widened in a strange combination of terror and confusion and she gave a very quiet whimper.

Grapes sighed. “We’re horrible, aren’t we?” asked with a slight chuckle.

“Yes. Yes we are. FINE, in the same sense that one cannot hide baldness from their barber we really should let my seamstress in on the whole diabolical plot...you do it.”

“Rarity, about the Vizier’s diabolical plot, Mainly the fact that there is no diabolical plot, unless it belongs to some succubus in Tartarus. Sorry, bad joke, and a play on the word ‘diabolical’ (which used to mean ‘having to do with demons’). My dear Rarity, if you’ve read any good literature, you’ll have probably noticed how subtle that evil can be, correct?” Grapes said with a grin. “Which is why I am so shocked that you haven’t noticed how obvious Royal Vizier Guaranty is being.”

“O -Obvious? Oh, you mean how ur, FLAMBOYANT he is. Oh yes. His desire to… to dress differently than everypony else in the throne room. Everypony else dresses in colors that blaze or gleam and so to be unique Mister Guaranty ah… goes the OPPOSITE direction,” She said, her voice frantically trying to sound as if she didn’t just hear him admit he was evil, “What better thing to do to stand out when standing next to the sun than… to be… a shadow?”

“Rarity? Remember what I said about the complete and utter lack of diabolical plots, unless some nut at the CSFGU was dabbling in demonology? I meant it, really. Even so the pieces are all there. Frustrated actor with a flair for the dramatic, and looks that would have him typecast as either some evil villain or another. He comes to you so he can dress the part of the obvious villain in style, and panache, probably giving you a nice tax break for doing him the favor…”

“Well… he IS exempting me from taxes as payment,” she admitted with a tinge of a blush in her cheeks. “It’s not illegal. Really.”

“And, of course, the old trope of the least trustworthy pony in any court of nobility being the ever scheming vizier,” Grapes concluded with a smirk. “Never mind the vizier in question is the right hoof of an immortal ruler, who has for centuries been a paragon of goodness, even though there had to have been decisions that would have long-term benefits, but short-term hardships. I imagine such decisions are how Equestria has become the mostly peaceful land it is, today. I say ‘mostly peaceful’, because the Everfree Forest is right there.” Grapes smirked, then did a very credible imitation of Rarity’s usual accent. “You’ve got a brain, darling, use it.”

“But… but he’s spoken of… things,” she whispered. “Things I am not at liberty to discuss but they are…”

“Sometimes necessary, yes Dear Rarity,” Guaranty said with obvious pride. “While much of what I am is window dressing, I work my hooves to the knuckles to keep so many forces in check in this nation it’s exhausting. Mostly this can be done by playing troublemakers against one another so they simply trip themselves up. Sometimes it’s letting their own ambitions cause them to stumble and in some cases, well it’s really a full-time job keeping Equestria safe from plots and threats both ancient and new.”

“And do you, honestly, think that Princess Celestia doesn’t know?” Grapes asked.

“I… I had thought it was a matter of friends and enemies and closeness.”

“Sometimes you can’t keep your enemies closer,” Grapes said sagely. “Sometimes you just have to know where they are at any given time. And sometimes somepony has to take the blame for decisions that would be scandalous if they came directly from our beloved solar diarch.”

“Decisions? What manner of decisions could possibly make anyone dislike our Princess?”

“Well, You’ve often heard them in the news. Remember that forest that I ‘insisted’ be razed. Forty acres of prime woodland and animal habitat put to the torch,” Guaranty said bluntly before continuing. “Long story short, somepony made carnivorous plants that were magic-proof. They didn’t even mean to, but there it was… and these were large enough to eat full grown ponies. So a decision was made to handle things before they spread out of control. And next thing you know I have a summer cottage in a sprawling estate on the ashes. At least as far as anypony knows.”

“So that was a ruse? Just so ponies wouldn’t think less of Princess Celestia?”

“That, and so they wouldn’t panic about giant pony-eating plants,” Grapes added with a grin. “And keep said plants out of the hooves of ponies that would love to use them against their enemies.”

“I am SO sorry. I had no idea that you were… so indispensable to her image,” Rarity uttered apologetically.

“I am happy to serve her in this capacity. I’m surprised she didn’t have a ‘Vizier’ sooner, then again she would have to find just the right kind of mind for it. The sort of pony who can be hated and despised but still do things for the greater good. Not to toot my own curly horn but she had an eye on me for this through all my time at the magic university. Why, I’m even helping out in choosing my lunar counterpart just so our newly restored Princess Luna won’t be left behind.”

“A vizier...for Princess Luna?” Rarity asked shocked.

“Yes, she’s already getting a lot of flak from the nobles, a vizier will help in pulling some of that away from her. But that’s our job.”

“And now you can be his friend, as well as a seamstress,” Grapes said with a nod. “Also… Are you doing anything on the solstice, Rarity? We’re celebrating a Night Pony holiday with Earshot, and I thought you’d be interested in coming.”

“Really? Well, I don’t have anything particularly pressing and Sweetie Belle would no doubt like to go. Offhand I suspect she’s fascinated by your young colt.”

“Nice to know the feeling is mutual,” Grapes quipped with a grin. “He seems to be equally fascinated by her, and her singing voice. I’ll let you two get back to your fitting, and I’ll look forward to seeing you on the solstice. It was nice to see you, again, Guaranty. Keep up the good work, and good luck with Purty.”

“Why thank you, Sour Grapes. Maybe I’ll send her flowers again and hope they aren’t turned into wastepaper basket filler once more.”

With that, Grapes took her leave, and trotted back toward the farmlands of Ponyville. Applejack should be done with her winter chores, about now. Should be easy to catch her, and let her know about Long Dark. All in all it had been a fairly good day. She’d bid a fond farewell to her parents, tomorrow, and Stormy probably got a whole, uninterrupted day, with his mother. Hotspur and Big Shot had to leave, today. They still had a business to run, and it opened back up after the weekend, and Stormbound had to get back to the airship. The company had been nice, but it would still feel quite good to get back to relative normalcy.

Grapes had to smirk at that thought. Ponyville was not exactly the poster child of normalcy to begin with, being so close to the Everfree Forest and all. However the arrival of Twilight and her friendship with the others seemed to turn town into a weirdness magnet just about once a week. Fortunately things tended to turn out all right more often than not. Even her own property had gathered a stable of instability. But… it was a good kind. She stopped by Sweet Apple Acres, and paused to see if she could hear the characteristic drawl of her dear cousin, or any other sounds of work being done.

“Oh th’ sunnnn shahns braght on mah old Equestrian hoooooome. T’is winterrrrr and the clouds are all grayyyyyy.”

That was Applejack all right, and it sounded like she already had a drink or two of hard cider. There she was, shoveling a path out to one of the trees while Winona patiently waited for her chance to add to the local color.

“Hey, cuz, how’s it going?” Grapes called, trotting into the yard.

“Oh hey there, cuz. How y’all doin there?”

“Oh you know. The usual. Got a bit of a thing going to be happening on the solstice. Would you like to come?” Grapes asked.

“Really? Well, sure I’d love ta come to yer shindig. Got more time to spare durin’ the winter so ah’m always open to ways to fill it. Should I bring the family?”

“I don’t know… How good are they at handling fairly exotic food. Earshot’s sharing a Night Pony holiday with us because I decided to see about sharing Hearth’s Warming with his folks. Sent them a big care package of Hearth’s Warming stuff, including a couple of history books about the holiday,” Grapes explained. “Though I’m pretty sure any dishes will not have uh… extra protein, if you know what I mean.”

“Ah yeah…” AJ chuckled. “Ah’m sure the little guy’s gonna give us an advance warnin’ on that sort of thing, especially if we ask him nicely.”

“He is a good little colt,” Grapes said nodding. “So… ask who wants to come along, and bring them with.”

“Can do, sugarcube.”

“Wurf.”

“Oh! Pardon me. Ah gotta get back to makin’ sure Winona can reach her favorite tree.”

“Oh yes… Celestia forbid the poor dog have to choose a different tree to widdle upon,” Grapes quipped, with obvious amusement.

“Ah know we spoil her but hey, she’s family. Say, you aughta head up to the house for one of Granny’s heated, hard ciders. She’s done pulled out a barrel over the holidays and we’ve been taking a cup here and there to keep off the chill. Hmm… maybe we should bring it over on the Solstice with us.”

“Don’t forget that Earshot’s a little colt,” Grapes said. “He’s too young to drink anything potent. Well… Not much. Maybe a little cup, but nothing like an adult would drink.”

“Well of course,” she agreed, taking another shovel full of snow. “To be honest he’s such a nice little fellar ah’d hate to see what he’d be like with a pint or two in him. Some folks get real… different when they’ve got a snootfull.”

“I know,” Grapes said, nodding. “Still, it’ll be good to have you.”

“Thanks, Cousin. Tell the little guy ah’d love to come and I’ll let him know about the others later on.”

“Looking forward to seeing you, cuz,” Grapes said. “I’ll be heading home. See you ‘round, Applejack.”

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The next day brought fond goodbyes from the Hearth’s Warming guests, as they left for their own homes. Cham and Champ teasing Grapes for fleeing the sounds of ponies in love, as they left. Stormbound embarrassing Stormfront one last time, and casually wishing Sour Grapes good luck. Grapes found herself wondering if Stormbound was anxious to have her and Stormy married, so she could start pestering them for grandfoals. Then again she had heard nightmare stories of mother-in-laws and had to admit she could do a LOT worse than Stormbound. Not that there was any reason to rush into marriage, of course. After all they’ve barely kissed one another for the first time. Plenty of time to dance around the issue of marriage, and Grapes was a fantastic dancer… Great… Now she was thinking about the process that made grandfoals… Okay! That’s quite enough of that!

Sour Grapes decided to see about… something else. She went to finish any little chores around the vineyard that needed doing, just to get herself thinking of something else. ANYTHING else.

She then noticed that the little red flag on the mailbox was up. That meant mail. Mail was a welcome diversion. But it turned out it wasn’t that big of a diversion. It was a small card from the Pony Express letting Earshot know that a parcel arrived at the main office for him and he should decide whether to pick it up or have it shipped to the vineyard. It took her a moment to consider the options for him. If they didn’t just drop it right off then it must be fairly large, so unless Earshot wanted to pay extra for the short distance it would be better to just help him get it here. Probably wasn’t TOO big, just too big to put in a carrier’s bag. Still… maybe she could give him the small sledge to get it. And maybe she’d go along with him to keep him company.

“Hey, Earshot, your package is at the Post Office,” she called. “I’ll come with, and bring the sledge wagon, just in case, okay?”

His head poked out of the upper window at the bunkhouse --upside-down-- and he waved down to her.

“Okie dokie hokey pokey!”

“We really should limit your exposure to Pinkie Pie,” Grapes uttered, with a roll of her eyes, as she hitched herself up to the small sledge. “Though should be a nice walk. The weather’s crisp yet clear.”

It was surprising how quickly Earshot could get ready when motivated. No doubt it was all the practice from his Storm Rider duties. Once again he was clad in his motley assortment of brightly colored (and mismatched) winter wear. But as long as he was warm who was she to point out his outfit was so loud it could cause hearing damage.

“Thought we’d go and get it, rather than have the mailmares bring it here. Save them a bit of back and wing sprain, and you a bit or two to go into the rainy day fund,” Grapes said, as they set out for town.

“It’s nice to have something for when it rains,” he giggled as he kept pace with her.

“Not exactly what that means,” Grapes observed, casually.

“I know. But that could ALSO be what it means too. I mean I know you save it for when you might need it but when you might need it could be when it rains.”

“Yeah, because sometimes rains cause floods, and you need money for repairs… That sorta thing,” Grapes observed. “So you enjoy Hearth’s Warming?”

“Oh YES I did! Oh so much to see and do and.. I’m so glad Miss Sparkle gave me that journal or I might have forgotten things. And I have to thank you for taking those pictures. Sometime more can be explained with a picture than words.”

“Sure can. I’m getting extra prints made, so we can send a scrapbook to your folks,” Grapes said with a smile. “I thought they’d like to see you enjoying yourself.”

“I know they would. They worry about me when I’m so far away. ‘Be careful of the daylighters’ is something all foals hear in the cove. Not out of anger but really because we know we’re not always welcome… well not MOSTLY welcome. I’m so glad I found Ponyville. It’s the closest thing to home I’ve known without several thousand tons of rock over my head.”

Grapes smiled and give Earshot a one-legged hug, and then proceeded with a smile. Once they got to the post office they were in for a surprise. The size of the box was quite unexpected.

"What did they do? Send your big brother?"

"Oh that's just silly... I only got a big sister."

"You've got a big sister?" Grapes asked.

"Oh yes! Lightning Stripe is so amazing. She's a little like Miss Dash but more sisterly..."

The wood seemed strange to Grapes. The grain was faint and the wood bleached to the point of looking a pale off-white. The texture felt... odd, almost unreal and when she tapped it with her hoof it sounded quiet. Like tapping a plank of wood on top of a pillow.

"She's one of the Cove's best Air-pushers, you know."

"Air Pusher?" Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah... oh. Well you know we kinda forgot how to manipulate weather, but some of us have a talent. There are shafts going down to the main caverns and Air-pushers will stand at the entrance of those and send fresh air down to the main colony. We have decent ventilation the rest of the time but the air pushers help things along."

"You know that may be your innate weather manipulation ability coming out in a different way."

"It could be. You did say that maybe we just need to relearn it, so maybe she's one of those prosodies."

"Prodigy," Grapes corrected.

"Yeah! One of those. She's amazing. I hope she realizes how much I wanna make her proud of me."

Grapes grinned.

"She's also one of our best fliers. Everypony knows how good she is at tunnel-racing. Speed isn't enough down there, you gotta be agile too. Nopony wants a face full of Stalactite or stalagmite. Really. Just ask Hognose."

“Why do I get the feeling that name is appropriate?” Grapes observed, casually.

“Yeah... If there is a re-unification he might want to look at something I found out about called a nose-job. They called it rhino-plasty but it has to do with muzzles and not rhinos.”

“‘Rhino’ is an ancient word for nose," Grapes explained. "Rhinoceros means, in that ancient tongue, nose horn."

"Ohhhh... Okay. Yeah that makes sense."

Grapes smirked a bit. "Yeah... Kind of funny how that works out."

Earshot helped Grapes to get the crate on the sledge before smiling at her. "Thanks for doing this Miss Grapes. I thought the package would be a whole LOT smaller. I never thought I'd need a wagon."

"Well we DID ask for the whole Long Dark experience."

“I can't imagine how much this would have been for them to mail. Probably it's weight in silver."

“Oh... dear... And considering how wonderfully .... inhospitable that village you've told me about has been..."

"I never really realized that I was treated all that badly by the townsponies until I left home. Now, out here, I found out that there are good ponies, bad ponies and a lot of in between... just like home."

"A lot of places are like that, "Grapes said with a nod.

"I hope it's good stuff... I'd hate to open this to find they sent just dirt."

"Why would they send dirt?"

"I dunno... I'm not them, am I?"

"Not who, exactly?" Grapes asked raising an eyebrow.

"You know... Mom, dad, Grandma, Lightning Stripe, Uncle Fluster, everypony at the cove. It's hard to say what they'd send to us as something to celebrate Long Dark. What I thought was cool or important might not be the same as what they think."

"I don't think 'dirt' would be 'cool' or 'important', though," Grapes said thoughtfully. "I mean, from what you've told me dirt isn't exactly a part of the celebration."

Earshot thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah that WOULD be really silly, wouldn't it? I guess there's only one real way to find out what's inside, isn't there?"

"Yup. Guess we'd better get this back home."

It was actually kinda cute the way Earshot tried his best to pull the sledge along. Straining against the harness he was actually making headway in a plodding sort of way, but once she got behind it and pushed did they get up to speed. By the time they got to the vineyard it was nearly noon and she was surprised to see a duet of bright white unicorns on her porch… and Earshot’s wings flared a moment before Grapes quietly informed him of his ‘Sweetie Belle’ reaction giving him the chance to fold them back into position.

“Ah. Hello Sour Grapes! I hope we are not too early. My work from… the other day went faster than expected and I thought we could come and give you and your young charge some assistance in setting up.”

“That’s rather nice of you, Rarity,” Grapes said with a grin.

“Your shipment from the seed of the month club?” Rarity guessed, motioning with her hoof at the crate.

“Nope. This is the shipment that Earshot was expecting for Long Dark, so we can have the genuine Night-Pony Long Dark experience.”

“Wow, Earshot!” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “You have the biggest package I’ve ever seen!”

It was all Grapes could do to keep from laughing herself sick. Rarity had blushed so badly she looked as if she were pink from horn to hoof as she quickly scooted her sister into the house.

“AHEM! Come along, Sweetie Belle. We must not linger in the path of ponies moving something so… that is, we don’t wish to be an obstruction.”

“What? He really does have the biggest--”

“...OBSTRUCTION!” Rarity insisted, pushing her sister into the house.

Grapes kept giggling, as they moved the box to the porch, and moved it into the common room of the bunkhouse. “Package,” she sniggered. “Oh from the mouths of foals… And before you ask, Earshot, standard answer number one.”

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Despite the abundant presence of unicorn magic in the living room, Earshot insisted that he open the crate manually. Grapes couldn’t deny him the right of opening his own mail and supplied him with a crowbar and stood back with Rarity and Sweetie Belle as he did the comical equivalent of chin-ups prying it open. She poured her guests some sweet-tea while they waited. She had to admit that normally when nails of that length were pulled from wood there was usually a horrendous creaking sound, but for some reason it was remarkably quiet. The noise was there of course, just… muted somehow.
Finally Earshot’s hard efforts were rewarded with the crate giving up it’s deathgrip on the lid and it falling to the floor with a fairly soft thud. Grapes moved it to the side quickly so that nopony would get injured stepping on all the nails sticking out of it and noted that each nail was square-ish in nature like a horseshoe nail. She filed this away in her head to ask about later and watched as he pulled green fluffy packing material from the Pony-sized crate.

“Hey! They used Tuftmoss as package stuffing. Nice to see they found a practical use for a taste of home.” he giggled before stuffing a mouthful into his muzzle and chewing a moment with a dreamy look on his face. “Mmmmph… thash the shtuff.”

“Wait… what?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… sorry,” he said swallowing. “Tuftmoss is one of the staples of the Night Pony… diet? Is diet the right word?”

“Yes, that is the correct word,” Grapes replied, nodding.

“Yeah, well we grow a lot of it for the bulk of our diet. When you dry it out it can be stored for long periods of time or, as you can see, be used to keep things from rattling against one another. It tastes really nice too, which is a plus. I think I’ll have this on the table as the salad.”

Rarity tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen and a large salad bowl came floating in on a bed of violet magic for Earshot’s first course. “Moss as a salad? I knew this would be a very non-traditional dinner Earshot, however I must confess that I never would have thought of moss as a main dish.”

“Well this is a Night Pony dinner, Rarity,” Grapes said with a smile. “It’s going to be very unconventional.”

Next out of the box was a folded-up piece of purpleish cloth. The colt took it to an unused section of floor and carefully opened it up revealing what might have been an ancient tapestry bearing the stylised image of Princess Luna and Princess Celestia circling one another around the icons of the sun and the moon. That is it might be an ancient tapestry if the materials have of looked… older. But the style of the weave and the rough quality of the fabric did make it look old. Grapes was gently nudged aside as Rarity’s fabric-themed instincts drew her over to the item like a magnet.

“Oh my… My, my, my. What is this fascinating item?”

“This? Oh this is the tablecloth we will be using. I’m sorry it’s not as fancy or as good as the ones I’ve seen out here in the sunlit lands but our clothsmiths… uh… tailors and seamstresses have done their best.”

“You mean to say that the Night Ponies MADE this on their own? With no unicorn magics to assist?”

“Well, yes. We did. I know you could do so much better but…”

“Earshot. Darling,” she said flatly, putting a hoof on his shoulder and straightening herself up. “Do your kindred a favor and do NOT apologize for the craftsmareship in this. Sour Grapes informed me of how they have been… shortchanged by the local--urm--‘Daylighters’ and given their castoffs instead of the quality materials they deserve. There is nothing here to be embarrassed about. Yes the fabric is lower-end but it is still sturdy and artfully put together. As for the talent, I am genuinely impressed at what was done by those who were self-taught and without the benefit of unicorn magic. You look at what was done by those with all the advantages and felt uncertain of your own kin’s work, while I see what was done with so little. You may tell them that I felt privileged to eat at a table adorned so beautifully.”

“I… I will. Thank you, Miss Rarity.”

“Your welcome, Earshot. Now fold that up until we need it and let us see what else you have in here.”

Moments after putting the tablecloth aside, Earshot found jars with various greenish-yellow fluids holding a variety of vegetable items in them. Fortunately the ponies recognized pickled veggies when they saw them, but when he pulled out a burlap sack from within and opened it even Sour Grapes had to blink. She had never seen or even imagined that potatoes came is such a wide variety of colors before.

“It’s a rainbow of potatoes,” Grapes observed, looking amused. “Why are there so many?”

“We found out that what kills off one kind of vegetable won’t always affect a similar kind so we grow as many kinds of potatoes as we can at once.”

“How astonishingly clever… Oh, I could certainly liven up an evening meal with such a cornucopia of potatoes. What do you think, Sweetie Belle?” Rarity asked with a smile, looking at her younger sister.

“The blue potatoes look weird, Rarity.”

“Mmm… they do seem odd but I’m certain a potato is a potato,” Rarity observed

“Ooh… can somepony give me some help with this?” Earshot said struggling with something in the box. “I think this is a job for unicorn floaty-magic lights.”

“All righty. Unicorn floaty magic lights coming up,” Grapes said with a grin, and lifting up the item with her stronger lift magic.

If she was any judge of weight this felt like a twenty-five pounder of… well… whatever it was. The mass was a large blue-black elliptical material. She couldn’t quite explain the feeling she had seen something like this before and yet she KNEW she had never seen anything even remotely like it. It looked somehow organic, and the odor it had wasn’t unpleasing, reminding her instead of the scent of good rich dark soil that had been freshly turned. Sweetie Belle was the first to give voice to the obvious question.

“Wow… what is it?”

“This… wow, they actually sent one along. This is what we call the Long-Dark Carve. What you’re looking at is the cap of a Titan Mushroom stuffed with a mashed up mix of local vegetables and certain spices. It’s the main course of the Long-Dark dinner and after we bake it for a while we cut slices of it for each pony present like a gigantic loaf of bread.”

“So they really did send the full Long Dark Experience,” Grapes observed. “Is there a letter, or something?”

“Maybe… um… Lemmie see.”

He stuck his head into the box again, but it was the little unicorn filly that pointed at the inside of the lid where a large envelope was stuck.

“Is that it?” Sweetie asked, pointing to the envelope.

“That must be it, Sweetie Belle.”

Earshot unattached the 8 by 11 envelope from the lid and opened it and found a small assortment of smaller letters within. Each labeled to a different pony. He sorted through them before handing one to his gracious keeper.

“Wow… looks like Grandmother’s been busy. Here’s one for you, Miss Grapes.”

“For me?” Grapes said, taking the envelope. “Wow. She wrote back. Cool.”

“There’s one here for Mister Summer Squall, must be about the guardianship thing. Oh hey… this one is Mister Guaranty.”

“A letter for Guaranty? Wonder why she’d write to him?” Grapes asked, thoughtfully, as she opened her envelope, and read her letter.

Dear Sour Grapes
I write to you on this occasion to thank you for your generosity. Your Hearth’s Warming decorations and gifts were well received by the denizens of our community. I assure you that they have been put to good use over the indicated holiday span, in what is best called our “town square”. The brilliant colors have added a wonderful festive spirit that all have enjoyed. Also the tomes you have seen fit to include are indeed a very welcome addition to our communal library and made our chief scribe, Indigo Gleam, quite giddy. Nopony have ever thought to present to our fair community the gift of brand new reading material until now. I swear that I have never seen Indigo so happy before. She was truly dancing on the cavern ceiling for the better part of an hour.
We are also deeply humbled that in return for kindly inviting one of our own kin to experience your jolly holiday, you asked about our own holiday, Long-Dark. I must admit that it proved an interesting experience for us to attempt to return the favor of your gift in kind, attempting to put the sum of our time of yearly observance into a single container. Some of the finest minds, the boldest spirits and biggest hearts in the Cove came together to put in their own suggestions. Some items, would simply not be Long-Dark without them, such as the Carve or Tuftmoss. Others were offers from prominent citizens, Gleaming Geode hopes that her hard work in the tablecloth will hold it’s own among the finery of the Daylight world. Indigo Gleam was kind enough to include a list of everything within and contributors, I am confident that young Earshot will be able to explain the significance of each item to you.
On a personal note, I would very much like to thank you for the part you have played in my grandcolt’s life in the outside world. You first welcomed him with kindness and understanding, and now treat him as you would any other foal his age. You make him do his chores, show him wonders of everyday life, send him to a place of learning and chide him or apply appropriate punishment when he has done wrong. It warms my heart to not only know my grandcolt has a safe haven not only in your vineyard and Ponyville in general, but also that there is hope that others may be as broad-minded as you and the ponies of Ponyville and may one day let my kin step back into the light.
Sincerely...
Moonlight Sonata
Post-scriptum: Might I ask what is “Standard answer number one”?

“You didn’t tell her what ‘standard answer number one’ was?” Grapes asked with a giggle.

“It never occurred for me to. I just mentioned it now and again,” Earshot replied with a shrug.

Sweetie Belle blinked. “What’s standard answer number one?”

“‘I’ll tell you when you’re older’,” Grapes replied.

“Huh? When will I be old enough to know what standard answer number one is? Earshot isn’t that much older than me and HE knows.”

“Sweetie, ‘standard answer number one’ means ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older’,” Grapes explained. “I came up with a short-hoof version, because it’s something that Earshot hears a lot… And ‘older’ means sometime around thirteen or so, after the ‘where little foals come from’ talk.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” she said looking back at her older sister “So that means that box at the back of your closet is a Standard answer number one. Right?”

“Ah… not exactly, Sweetie… It means that explaining what’s in the box comes under Standard Answer Number One,” Rarity explained, a light blush gracing her cheeks. “And, honestly, I’d really rather you not mention it, or explore it further.”

“Might as well. I mean I can’t explore it at ALL with that lock you got on it. It’s big enough to keep Big Macintosh out.”

“So… Is that everything, Earshot,” Grapes said, putting up her letter.

“Oh there’s still some good stuff in here… like candles and holders for them. Little mantle idols. Notes on songs and traditions. Things like that,” Earshot said, pulling out the items as he mentioned them.

“What’s that big jar for?” Sweetie Belle asked, poking a fairly massive dark purple-filled, glass container with a sealed lid. Earshot carefully extracted it and opened the lid he sniffed the contents and gave a chuckling groan.

“Oh, Mooooom! What did you go and send this for?”

“What did your mom send that’s causing you to moan so?” Grapes asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m… gonna need a bowl here,” he said carrying the jar to the kitchen. “A large one.”

Earshot carefully poured the contents of the large mason jar into the mixing bowl while Grapes, Sweetie Belle and Rarity watched. The slimy-looking off-purple goop almost slid out of the container with a surprisingly disgusting ease.

“And what…” Rarity inquired quietly with a waver in her voice that suggested total revulsion, “...would this be?”

“This… is what saved my kin from a terrible death by starvation in the lean years,” Earshot said quietly. “We call it ‘Smooze’.”

His audience looked into the bowl where the mass seemed to swirl about of it’s own accord, occasionally a bubble breaking it’s surface. Sweetie Belle prodded at it with a spoon while the conversation continued.

“Smooze. Huh. Please forgive me if I say that the name does not really suggest an appealing dining experience. But if this truly was all you had to eat in the, ah, ‘lean years’, then…” Rarity observed, making a face.

“It’s all right, Miss Rarity. It really is as disgusting as it sounds… and looks… and tastes. Smooze is more or less a slime-mold. We can easily grow it in large vats in the same way I’ve seen ponies growing yeast. I won’t lie to you. While I was in my first few weeks of being out in the world I once ate part of a pizza box. While the cheese and sauce stuck to it were good, the taste of the cardboard reminded me of Smooze”

“You… ate a pizza box?” Rarity said, a look of astonishment and pity on her face.

“Yes. I was new and trying to avoid contact with daylighters unless necessary. Some less-than-tidy ponies left their stuff behind at a picnic site. I thought I should try something new and... sorry, I’m depressing you, aren’t I?”

“Oh no. Not at all. I just never would have thought of the idea of eating the container. It’s paper so, no harm would come to us. So ‘Smooze’ tastes like cardboard?”

“Yeah. Wet, slimy-yet-sticky, purple cardboard. And yet it’s REALLY good for you. A cupful of this a day and you have all the nutrition you need to live for that day. It saved so many lives… it’s why it’s always on the holiday table next to everything else. A reminder that not everything that’s bad is always as bad as it seems.” he dropped his voice to a hushed whisper to the two mares. “It also helps to… um… well… Mister Squall says it helps keep your pipes clear.”

“It’s a laxative?” Grapes asked with a raised eyebrow

“If that means it helps you poop, yeah. A cupful or less and you’re fine. Two cups or more and you get the trots,” Earshot admitted before giggling. “One of the silly songs foals sing about it is: ‘Nothing can stop the Smooze!’.”

“How… quaint,” Rarity said, obviously uncomfortable with the topic.

“I dunno about stopping it, but I think it ate my spoon,” Sweetie said, looking at the mass apprehensively.

“Oh, Sweetie Belle.” Grapes chuckled before using salad tongs to fish out the cutlery. “Wow… you’re right. This stuff really does have a firm grip. Hmm… so who wants the first taste?”

There was a long pause as Grapes now used the rescued spoon to put a teaspoon of Smooze into several small custard bowls. Finally, Rarity squared her shoulders and levitated the bowl over to her face.

“Fine… I shall be the gracious guest and risk my palate. Please have some water ready.”

She put the bowl to her lips and tilted it back, letting the purple goop wash across her tongue. Her face screwed up in a mask of genteel effort as she forced herself to swallow the offending material. Finally, she set the bowl down and graciously accepted the glass of water offered by Grapes and rinsed and swallowed.

“It’s… it is… very…”

“Nutritious?” Earshot provided to her very adamant approval.

“Yes. Nutritious. Thank you, Earshot. That is the world I shall stay with,” Rarity uttered.

“It’s all right, Miss Rarity. I won’t be offended if you said it was awful. Which it is.”

“Thank you, Earshot, but let us stay with the word Nutritious. It both makes it sound better as well as it warns other ponies to the potential culinary dangers.”

Sour Grapes tried her portion next and grimaced.

“One thing’s for sure… if you have this at the beginning of a meal, it puts everything
else in proper perspective.”

“My sister, Lightning Stripe, says that Smooze kept our kin going because we would
find strength to keep looking for something better to eat other than the Smooze in our packs.”

“Ugh… I want to eat the cardboard box instead of this,” Sweetie Belle shuddered after her helping before smirking. “I can’t wait to see Applebloom and Scootaloo trying it out.”

“Well now. I’ve measured out a helping for everypony who will be arriving for the dinner. Three teaspoons in each bowl will be MORE than enough, I think,” Sour Grapes mused before tossing the spoon into the sink. “That leaves us with three quarters of a mixing bowl full. That leaves us with a LOT of leftover Smooze.”

“Hmm. Quite. I wonder how you will give away the rest?” Rarity mused, thoughtfully.

“Give away the rest? The rest of what?” Came a perky voice from the next room followed by a door shutting and a pink pony happily entering the kitchen.

Pinkie Pie was looking rather cheery as she tossed her scarf over a chair and walked over to the table where the Smooze sat in all the custard bowls and the large mixing bowl.

“This stuff. Earshot’s grandma sent us more than enough for the party and we were wondering who would want to eat the rest of the…”

Sweetie Belle didn’t have a chance to finish. Pinkie Pie’s eyes lit up and she scooped up the mixing bowl in her hooves.

“Purple Custard! What a great idea for Long Dark! It’s a little depressing-looking but I’ll help you out!”

The ponies in the room raised their hooves and tried to warn Pinkie Pie but it was too late. The bowl was at her lips as she upended the vessel and poured the Smooze into her mouth. They could only stare on in horror as her cheeks bulged full of cold slimy goop and her eyes went from conveying “thank you for the surprise” to “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot did I just put in my mouth?” She stood there, frozen as good manners fought with her desire to spit everything back into the bowl. Manners won out and she forced herself to swallow several times to get the contents of her cheeks into her gullet. She experienced a full-body shudder of revulsion that started at her ears and worked it’s way to the tip of her tail before she managed to say something.

“That… wasn’t dark depressing custard. Was it?”

“No, Pinkie. No, it wasn’t.” Grapes deadpanned.

“What did I just…”

“Smooze, darling. An edible slime mold from Earshot’s homeland,” Rarity said matter-of-factually “On the plus side… it’s very nutritious.”

“Oh. It… tasted ‘nutritious’,” Pinkie observed, looking positively grossed out.

“Yes. But there’s a side effect,” Earshot said, trying to break the news to Pinkie as gently as possible

“A side effect?” Pinkie said, looking understandably worried.

“Oh yes. It… how can I put this? You might be somewhat random at times, but right now you are about to become Equestria’s most REGULAR pony.”

“Regular...? You mean…?” Her stomach made a gurgling sound and she tentatively placed her hooves on her abdomen in discomfort. “Ohhhhh… not good.”

“Earshot, please show Pinkie Pie out to the outhouses and make sure she’s stocked up with T.P.,” Grapes requested with a long sigh.

“Yes, Miss Grapes.”

“Oh. And maybe while you’re out there you should teach her that song. Something tells me she’s going to have some serious time to practice it,” Grapes observed with a chuckle.



The sky was just starting to darken when the other guests arrived. At the bequest of Earshot Sour Grapes had put her dining room table’s leaves in, then pushed her kitchen table and spare card table together to add extra length. The eating surface now extended from her dining room well into the living room and utilised all the chairs that could comfortably seat a pony. The assortment of plates and dishes surprised her at first, it was as if no two matched but apparently Earshot had gone out of his way to visit the local thrift shop to get such an eclectic assortment. He pointed out that this was very much what a typical Long-Dark table wound up looking like. Sour Grapes had to admit that it certainly added an interesting variety to the table, and they somehow seemed ‘right’ for sitting on the beautiful tablecloth provided.

The air was filled with wonderful, delicious smells as edible items from the box were heated, fluffed up or (in the case of the Carve) baked. With the strange decorations around, it was like an odd shadow-version of Hearth’s Warming. Soon the guests started arriving. Applejack brought Big Mac, Applebloom, and Granny Smith. The elder pony was seated close to the fireplace to warm her old bones. Twilight Sparkle came soon after, accompanied by Spike. Rainbow Dash came in with Fluttershy, to make sure her best friend wasn’t walking alone in the dark, and Scootaloo, since the other two thirds of the Cutie Mark Crusaders were here.. Finally there were Earshot’s classmates from the advanced classes at the school: Brass Horn, Stonewall, and Sky Hook.

The first surprise happened after the last guest expected arrived and Earshot asked that the candles now be lit. They looked like your average candles and despite having a yellowish tinge to the wax and set in some rather interestingly ‘lunar-themed’ candle holders nothing seemed odd about them. Until the wicks were ignited that is.

“Earshot… This is.. weird,” Grapes said eying the candles. “They’re burning with some kind of weird green light.”

“Yes. Yes they are,” Earshot said as he lit a few more, these ones flickering with violet and red tinted flames. “I noticed that candles out here are more yellow than anything else. I thought it was the same reason that you had such beautiful cloth here. You know… you could afford to make expensive things. Now that I know a little better I don’t know why our candles do this. But they sure are pretty.”

“The wicks are treated or tainted with different metallic salts that make them burn with different colors… Ugh, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, right off the bat,” Grapes uttered, shaking her head.

“You actually know about that stuff?” Firestormer asked looking at the various colored flames. “I thought I was one of the few ponies who actually cared about the secrets behind pyro-parlor tricks like that.”

“I may have mentioned this before, but I read. A lot. Especially during the winter months,” Grapes said, drolly.

“So why all the different dishes?” asked Rainbow Dash

“Probably the best answer for that is ‘practicality’. Really, it’s kinda based on the fact that nearly everything we have is second-hoof. Back home a great deal of Night Pony items are castoffs from the nearby town that we’ve picked up, cleaned, repaired and put to use. It’s seldom you’ll find a full set of dishes on a family table, much less a full spread like this. Look around and you’ll see how many of the decorations my kin sent are recycled and repurposed items,” Earshot held up the large carving knife sitting in front of his place and everyone could see from the curious curved style of the handle that once upon a time that knife was a horseshoe. He smiled meekly to them all and continued. “I guess that sums up the nature of my kindred… Night Pony lives are cobbled together from the fragments of the lives of Daylighters.”

“Dude, that is SO unfair! You deserve new stuff just as much as anypony else!” Dash uttered, stomping a hoof.

“We’re just beginning to figure that out,” he admitted before looking out at the ponies up and down the table. “Until I came out here I… and my kin were unsure if we deserved our fate or not. Imagine looking at yourself in the mirror every day, and seeing evidence that leans in favor of maybe one of your bloodline making a deal with the Nightmare Moon to live comfortably in a world of darkness. A world untouched by sunlight. Now imagine that it’s been so long since that time that nopony even remembers if we DID surrender to her or not. All you know for certain about your ancestors is that they KNEW that if they didn’t run and hide, the daylighters would turn all that anger they felt towards the midnight tyrant against their very mortal hides… Well, that kinda explains why there’s no real information on us beyond myths, legends and old mare’s tales. Maybe there were those who felt guilty and covered it all up. Of course whatever happened in the way-back time, it’s what finally resulted in me being here, with all of you, sharing your culture and me sharing mine. So… it can’t be all bad. Right?”

Rainbow dash looked back at her own feathered wings and for a moment the expression on her face betrayed her imagining herself with bat wings and realizing just what Earshot was getting at. She then turned her attention back to him and gave a short chuckle.

“You’re a glass half-full kinda guy, aren’t you?” Dash asked with a cocky grin.

“I guess I am,” Earshot replied with a shrug.

“So… there is no deep meaning behind these dishes other than you doing the best with what life gave you?” Rainbow asked.

“Not really, no,” Earshot replied.

Dash chuckled. “Then can I trade mine with Twilight? Her’s is a lot cooler.”

“Well… Sure! If anypony else wants to swap plates then go ahead. I don’t mind.”

The resulting kerfuffle lasted about two minutes, the guests all passing plates around the table as they tried to decide which ones they thought were prettiest or suited them the most. Sour Grapes couldn’t help but make a mental note that in it’s own way this was a kinda fun way to start the new holiday off.

“This switching plate thing could be fun,” Grapes observed. “Sort of encourages folks to get to know their tablemates, or at least talk to them. Now, everypony, you’ll notice that you’ve got some custard cups of an interesting purple substance. I would suggest that when you eat it, you try to taste it as little as possible. Pinkie Pie got an overdose, which is why, exactly, she isn’t here with us right now.”

“Hey, you’re right,” Twilight Sparkle noted from behind her writing pad where notes were being copiously scribbled down. “Pinkie Pie is usually in the middle of anything even remotely looking like a party. What exactly did this… ‘overdose’ do to her?”

“We-e-e-e-ell…” Earshot began, apparently weighing his words carefully. “She had about twenty or thirty times the recommended dose of Smooze, which is what’s in your bowls. And at the moment she’s kinda… sorta… stuck out back christening the new outhouse we dug the other day. She’ll be okay… eventually.”

There was a long awkward pause as the guests exchanged pained glances with one another. Then their expressions changed to apprehension as they did as Earshot did and raise their custard cups to their lips and tilt them backwards for the contents. This of course resulted in expressions of total disgust and sudden lunges for their drinking glasses for something to wash the offending Smooze down. Earshot recovered quickest and explained.

“I know it tastes awful but it is really, really good for you. According to the stories it was more of a blessing than a curse to my ancestors. Keep in mind in the beginning we had no idea other than the obvious stuff what was edible and what wasn’t. We probably knew what an apple was but had no idea how to grow a tree or when to pick one. We have stories… that out of desperation things were eaten we discovered shouldn’t. Like… soup made from Rhubarb leaves.”

Sour Grapes didn’t need any expansion on that tidbit to guess what happened to those that tried the soup. In the past she had occasionally boiled Rhubarb leaves to create an organic insecticide. While the Rhubarb stalk itself was tart but very tasty, the leaves were rather toxic. Looking around the table she saw from the looks on Twilight’s and the Apple Family’s faces that she was not alone in guessing how many of Earshot’s kin might have been lost in ‘the lean times’ to costly mistakes like that.

“That’s called learning the hard way. Though it does suggest that you didn’t have any agriculturally inclined ponies tagging along with you,” Grapes stated. “Almost makes a case for the folks who fled being either military or nobility, because one is fed by the country that retains them, and the other… Well… Let’s just say they’re not fond of getting their hooves dirty, and leave it at that.”

“That’s a good point, actually,” Rainbow Dash said slipping into a surprisingly deep-thinking mode. “I mean you remember this stuff from Hearth’s Warming pageants where those of us with wings attached felt really justified in looking down on ground ponies. The whole ‘lording on high’ thing and in general being total jerks about being masters of the sky and stuff. Maybe some of that was kept by guys with bat-wings. ...uh… I mean… no offense but…”

“No… no… that’s another thought I never thought of before,” Earshot said quietly. “So we might have just been jerks. Not really evil or anything just, it made it easier for others to believe we were.” This line of reasoning caused Sky Hook to frown, briefly, at Rainbow Dash. This went unnoticed by almost everybody.

“Surprisingly deep thought from you, Rainbow Dash,” Grapes quipped with a grin.

“Can’t be all about rainbows and dashing,” Rainbow Dash quipped right back with a smirk. “Wouldn’t be a very good weather worker if I was.”

Earshot coughed and put a large earthenware jug on the table and worked loose the wax-sealed lid from it.

“Now… my kin thought long and hard on the things to send, especially keeping in mind that you wouldn’t be able to eat many things that we can so if you see me with something on my plate that you don’t have, don’t take it personally. One thing that they were all certain you’d enjoy is this. It’s… well… Wine.”

With his forelegs wrapped around the heavy jug he carefully poured some into a glass. It was a very thick and very dark liquid and after he put the jug down he gave the glass to Sour Grapes.

“Miss Grapes? You probably know more about wine than the rest of us here put together. Would you please let me know what you think of Luna’s Tears?”

Grapes levitated her glass, sniffing it, then taking a sip, swirling it around in her mouth, obviously tasting it thoroughly. It was obvious that Grapes was an accomplished wine taster, but she did swallow the sip, rather than spit it out, like professional wine tasters did.

“It’s thicker than I’m used to, with a pleasant natural sweetness, very earthy notes of fertile soil, a touch of peat, and a… slightly mushroomy finish,” Grapes said, finally.

The young Night Pony smiled and nodded to her.

“I noticed that the processes you make wine with are more… complicated than we have. I think that helps with the thickness. That and the grapes we use are… special. They remind me of volcanic glass. All black and shiny. They grow down below in a sunless chamber near the great Crystal Forest where the heat seems to be more than enough to make them grow. They taste nice enough as grapes but as wine… Mom and Dad say you get into the right frame of mind for Long Dark after a few sips.”

“I can imagine,” Grapes observed. “This… I think there is a market for this. This stuff makes me want to sit down and contemplate things.”

“And that is a big part of Long-Dark,” Earshot stated as he painstakingly poured an equal amount of the nearly-black wine into a glass for each pony at the table. “It is a celebration of those who are with us, a hoping for those we have yet-to-meet, and a remembrance for those-whom-have-gone-on-ahead.”

“Gone on ahead? You mean the ponies who…,” Applebloom began before Granny Smith put her hoof on her shoulder and nodded to her. “Oh. I get it. That’s… a real nice way to say that.”

“Ah appreciate yew doin’ yer best to show us the ropes around yer late-night holiday and such,” Granny smith began, looking around the table. “But while ah don’t rightly know how yer kinfolk handle wine and young’uns but in these parts we try to keep them apart. Or just a sip rather than a whole glass, if’n you get my meaning.”

“What? OH! Oh, heheh. Sorry. I got caught up in trying to be fair with the portions I forgot foals need foal-sized portions. Um. Ok. I guess we pour some back into the jug.”

“Well, some of us adult ponies COULD always jest… help out the young’uns by takin’ some from their glasses into our own.”

“Granny,” Applejack warned resulting in the weathered pony trying and failing to look innocent.

“Jest sayin’, that’s all,” Granny said with a shrug.

Once Earshot was finished pouring, the libations were readjusted to a few teaspoons for those who were as of yet ‘underage’ and despite Granny’s offer, she only got one glass. Grapes found that Granny’s obviously wanting more. With the wine and other beverages poured and waiting, The foods were brought forth from the kitchen. Salad made from dried Tuftmoss proved popular as did various pickled, salted and dried delicacies (although Grapes noted that the pickled eggs only landed on Earshot’s and Spike’s plates). The multicolored potatoes were a rousing success, prompting much discussion on the variety and in general ‘exoticness’ the hues gave such a humble vegetable.
Once the lesser foods found their ways to the guests’ plates did the Carve make an entrance. Nopony had ever seen anything quite like it. Even Granny was impressed and even more so when Earshot proceeded to cut everypony a slice, revealing it’s stuffed nature.
At his bequest everypony linked hooves and took a moment of silence to think of loved ones before digging in. After that it was very much like any large family dinner Grapes could think of. There was loads of conversations going back and forth on things of past year and plans for the upcoming year. The six friends were obviously looking forward to the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala. A party of that magnitude always did take a while to plan, and supply. Grapes knew it was pointless to try and dissuade her friends about the event. It wouldn’t take anyone ‘great’ and/or ‘powerful’ to predict a lot of disillusionment on the horizon. This was why she invited the group to visit her place, after the Gala. She figured they’d need some commiseration after their disappointment. The food was good, the conversation was grand, and everybody was generally having a wonderful time.

Then Skyhook spoke.

“So… Earshot. Other than the obvious stuff, what makes you bat-winged fre… uh… Ponies really special? You know. Deep down. What is it YOU believe in?”

Grapes refrained from cuffing Skyhook up the back of the head for nearly calling Earshot a ‘Freak’ in front of everypony there. At least it SEEMED as if her sudden self-edit had gone unnoticed by the others, or was politely ignored. All eyes turned to where he was in the middle of a mouthful of tuftmoss salad. The little bat-winged pony swallowed, cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“From what I’ve seen, the Night Ponies are very much like the ponies of Ponyville. Sometimes they’re best of friends, next thing you know they’re at odds with one another, or we get on each other’s nerves, other times we do just fine. There are times where you wonder how we survived all cooped up together for a thousand years… and then there are the times that you see the intense sense of community spirit we have. It’s hard to say if there’s one all-purpose statement that really sums up the Night Ponies as a whole. Unless…” He paused a moment getting a far-off look in his eyes. “I remember when I was two years old, my father took me topside for the first time. It was during a New-Moon when he brought me to an outcropping of stone that allowed me to see the whole countryside. He then said to me, he said ‘Son, I want you to remember there is no shame in living in the shadows, because it is only when it is dark enough that you can finally see the stars.’ And true enough I looked up at the nighttime sky and there, shining like salt crystals on a black blanket, were the stars.”

The expressions on the guests said it all. Yes, Grapes had earlier jokingly thought of the expression “From the mouths of foals” but here and now he had said something truly profound to everypony. Something that seemed to put the Night Pony civilization in perspective. In spite of the indignities they had endured for a thousand years on some level they felt that even in the darkest moments, there was something there to look up to. Even Skyhook seemed to be seriously mulling over Earshot’s words. From here the conversation turned to questions about his home, the mysterious Stygian Cove.

He was more open on the topic this evening than previous. No doubt he had been given permission from the mysterious group he called the “Dark Council” whom he described as the most influential, most learned or ‘successful’ ponies in the cove. They often spoke in ‘the cavern of privacy’ away from (most) prying ears and wore heavy hooded robes. Indigo Gleam was often present to act as stenographer.

His family unit was fairly strong, he spoke glowingly of his sister, he had great pride in his Grandmother, spoke warmly of his parents and quite humorously when describing the antics of his curiously eccentric Uncle who seemed to come and go on a whim on adventures in the deepest caves. Grapes found herself wanting to meet these ponies.

After dinner, Earshot lead them outside, carrying some sheaves of paper. Pinkie sort of oozed out of the outhouse she had been in, most of the night, saw her friends coming outside, and made her way over, looking… somewhat worse for wear.

“Nothing like learning a lesson the hard way, eh, Pinkie?” Grapes asked with a slight smirk.

“That’s one I could have done without, honestly… Ooogle… Now I know how a tube of toothpaste feels,” Pinkie uttered, sitting by her friends. Grapes casually raise an eyebrow.

“You’re acquainted with toothpaste, Pinkie?” Grapes quipped.

“Well duh! Colgate would get on my case if I wasn’t!” Pinkie retorted.

Rarity looked up at the sky and said quietly to Sweetie Belle, “He’s right you know. It does look like grains of salt on black fabric.”

“But, Rarity, you used to describe them as looking like gemstones on black velvet,” Sweetie whispered back.

“Yes… Well…” Rarity hemmed, uncertainly. “That’s because I grew up with gems, darling. To him salt must be far more available. I am willing to be shown another way of looking at the world though.”

“Must be really different, ya bein’ out here, rather than back home, in yer caves, huh?” Applebloom asked.

“It is, but I like it out here. Sometimes I like to turn my face to the heavens and just listen to the songs that the stars sing,”

Twilight blinked and leaned forwards, staring at Earshot in new-found wonder.

“Wait… Are you trying to tell me you can actually HEAR the stars?”

“Well… yeah. I guess because my special talent is listening I get to hear things nopony else can. It’s a little sad that I’ll never be able to share some of these experiences with anypony else, but maybe it’s enough they have an audience of one.”

“I’m sorry but as much as I know that your hearing is unusually well developed but.. STARS? I mean REALLY? What do they sound like?” Twilight asked.


“Well to be honest it’s hard to put into words for ponies that can’t hear it. Think of it like an acapella version of a choir. You have your Sopranos and Mezzo Sopranos, the Altos, the Tenors and the Bassists, these ones that seem to keep the beat… OH! And then there’s Black Michell,” Earshot replied.

“Black Michell?”

“Sorry… that’s the name I gave him. It sounds about right to me. He’s like… the greatest Bass I’ve ever heard. I once tried to count the octaves and it’s more or less around 57 below middle C,” was Earshot’s response to Twilight’s query.

Twilight’s eyes somehow got wider.

“I think… I think you might be talking about a Black Hole. Princess Celestia and I discussed them and how they MIGHT exist. To all intents and purposes a dead star that fell in on itself and is like a great hole in the fabric of the universe… But it’s theories, never been proven. And the ones you say ‘keep the beat’? That sounds suspiciously like Pulsars. Do you hear these sorts of things all the time?”

“Yeah, but like with you walking through a room full of ponies you never seem to be aware of them all until you actually pay attention… or one catches your attention. Maybe for star-gazing you need to make something for your ears that works in the same way your telescope does for your eyes… or… is that dumb?” Earshot observed, thoughtfully.

“No… no it’s not. It will require a little thought, some research into the matter would certainly be rewarding. Maybe Redline can help me work something out,” she mused before realizing everyone was staring at her. “Uh. Later. Much later. Tonight is your night Earshot. So are we out here to admire the nighttime sky?” Twilight asked, after keeping herself from getting too distracted.

“That too. It has always been our tradition that on the longest night of the year we all step outside our home at High-Moon and sing. Of course we usually do it in our special vocal range so I guess this year for the sakes of my friends I’ll tone it down a little into a register you can hear and sing along with.”

“Actually, I suspected something like this may happen and it reminded me of a spell I once found,” Twilight said turning to spike who held up an open book to her. “It was created by Fruitcake the Odd so he could find out if there were indeed bats in his belfry. This spell not only adjusts a pony’s ears to hear in the same Ethereal Sound range you can, it will also adjust our own voices to let us speak, or in this case sing, in it as well.”

“Wow. So we’ll be talking like bats?” Rainbow Dash asked

“Well… yes and no. We’ll still be speaking Equestrian, just in a higher pitch. Like when Pinkie Pie sucks down the contents of a helium balloon. Maybe later I can work in a Night Pony/Equestrian translation spell. Think that will be good, Earshot?”

“Yeah! I did get a whole batch of sheet music from home so that you could sing along, but we realized you wouldn’t know the words so we have both a rough translation and a Pho-Net-Ick spelling in Equestrian so you could fake it if you want.”

“All right then. You hand them out and I’ll cast the spell.”

Everypony received their little songbook, while Twilight’s spell fell gently upon everypony present.

It was strange, singing in a tone you were unused to. But the ponies present quickly got used to it, pronouncing words you didn’t understand though was a little harder. Grapes was reminded of Opera, where many could sing the songs but not have a clue what it meant. Still, the subtitles below the words helped a great deal. Twilight seemed to pronounce it a lot smoother than most, but it would figure the little token ‘bookworm’ would probably be fluent in the classic tongues. Still, the songs were simple, catchy and most importantly you could ‘FEEL’ their meaning. They actually sounded like they were calling out to the moon above which hung like a great sad eye in the darkness.

Five songs later they took a breather agreeing that although this was on the cold side it was indeed fun. Firestormer made a well-received suggestion that maybe next year they might want to consider making a bonfire to sing around seeing as they didn’t have to do this as clandestinely as his little buddy’s kin. Earshot liked the idea, both the bonfire AND the notion that this would not be a one-time only.

Granny went in and came out with a tray of hot cider for everypony and while they took the lull to take the chill out of their bones, Skyhook wandered over to Earshot and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Dork.”

Earshot turned to Skyhook who without warning pressed her lips against his. His wings *POOMPHED* for a moment before relaxing at the end of the kiss.

“I… What was that for?”

Skyhook wiped her lips off on her foreleg and chuffed quietly.

“Mom and Dad taught me that the beginning of the year should be started with a kiss to set the mood right. Don’t look into it any deeper than just it being for luck. It was either you or Stonewall, and have you seen what that guy’s been eating? Eugh… Alfalfa.”

“Oh. Well. OK. Thank you for the luck then.”

“Your welcome… and put the wings away. You look like a sailboat like that,” Skyhook said with a smirk.

“Aw for the love of… WHY does this keep happening to me?”

There was good-natured chuckling at Earshot’s misfortunate wings and shortly after a few more lively and upbeat-sounding songs everypony went home, feeling in high spirits and optimistic towards the new year. It was the general consensus that Long-Dark could actually catch on as a way to ring in the new year.

---------------------------------------------------------------Epilogue:----------------------------------------------------------------

Far off (and upwards) in Canterlot, a solitary figure looked out from her snow-covered balcony, standing a lonely vigil over the night. Princess Luna was only peripherally aware of the ankle-deep snow in which she stood, her deep melancholy far more prominent in her mind.

It had been a full half-year since she returned from the moon, a full six months since she had finally been excised of the caustic personality that was Nightmare Moon. Summer Solstice to Winter Solstice had been more than adequate enough time to realize just how… redundant she was now.

In her… absence all of her old duties had been taken over by her sister, raising the moon, keeping watch over the night creatures and reigning over Equestria. All of it worked so well now, even now that she was back to resume them she couldn’t help but feel all she was doing was just… making her sister’s life a little easier.

The world had changed so much in the last thousand years. New Music, New Fashions… new ideas. The ponies of this land were so independent from when she last remembered. And with the invention of public lighting there was actually ponies enjoying her beautiful night. It was a small comfort as she was coming to grips the hard, sad truth that she was an Anachronism. A forgotten piece of the past that probably was no longer truly needed or even wanted. Nopony recalled Princess Luna, more remembered the tale of the Mare in the moon, and THAT was an old mare’s tale.

What was that new word she heard from young advancement-savvy ponies?
Ah yes… Now she remembered. She had become “obsolete”.


Maybe she should have just stayed on the moon. Out of sight, out of mind. At least there she wouldn’t have constant reminders as to how… forgotten she was.

She was prepared to just head down to the kitchens and devour all the chocolate in stock to ease her heavy heart when something teased her ears. Her head turned towards the unfamiliar sound and she blinked in surprise. It was coming from the Ethereal Sound registers, as a creature of the night she shared many traits with other beings that lived in it, bats being one of them, and as such was able to hear along those wavelengths.

Yes. Yes she was definitely hearing something on that ultra-high band. It sounded like… singing? Her jaw dropped open as she craned her head to listen in on what sounded like the voices of ponies singing in old-Equestrian. Ponies singing about how they wanted to see her again, how they pleaded with the Nightmare Moon to release her from her terrible grip so she may be loved once more. She recognized old Fruitcake’s spell in action… oh poor Fruitcake, there was something affably ‘wrong’ about that unicorn. Obsessing about the silliest things and coming up with the most amusingly strange spells. You couldn’t help but LIKE somepony like that. Let Celestia praise Starswirl all she wanted, she liked Fruitcake better. And now… after so many years one of his spells had brought her a gift that only she could hear and appreciate. Bless that crazy unicorn, and… and bless whomever was singing down there.

It was proof she was NOT forgotten. Proof that somepony genuinely missed her and wanted her back in their lives. She placed a hoof against her chest and inhaled deeply, feeling her once heavy heart lighten for the first time in months.

She wanted to do something, now. The world seemed to be not so bad. Maybe she should get out more. Actually go forth and patrol the night like she once did. She heard there had been a holiday dedicated to her darker self,when the autumn came about she really should look into that. OH! She once considered herself to be the guardian of the dreams of the young (had it truely been a thousand years?) Maybe she should start taking that seriously again, perhaps surrounding herself with youth would revitalize her outlook on this strange new world.

She smiled and spread her wings, taking to the skies.

It was a brand new year, and she would make the best of it, one way or another.