It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house…one creature was stirring.
That was a problem.
Applejack was not quite sure how she was aware of the disturbance. It would have been wrong to say she’d been sleeping peacefully beforehand, but the girl had at least been resting. Something, however, had begun to make her a little uncomfortable. The faint sounds from below had eventually confirmed her suspicions. At first, she thought she was dreaming, or at the very least merely hearing things in her tired state; the noises were faint, and only occasional. Eventually, however, Applejack had been unable to deny their existence to herself. She wasn’t angry, or scared, as she lay in her bed and stared at the roof of her bedroom listening to them. More than anything…she was curious.
After a few moments thought, the girl finally moved into action, sitting up and swinging her legs over one side of the bed. Taking care to avoid stepping on Winona – the dog had chosen to sleep curled-up beside her bed, earning itself a sleepy scratch from her – Applejack rubbed her tired, emerald eyes. After letting herself yawn, and stretch out, the girl set off out the door and along the upstairs corridor of her and her family’s home. It was an old building, cold night air working through cracks in the wall and brushing over her skin. Applejack considered going back for her nightgown, considering that right now her attire was a loose-fitting tank top and some shorts. She preserved, though, continuing to pass the tinsel-strewn bannisters and head down the stairs.
As she did so, thoughts crowded her mind. Who could be making the racket – Applebloom? Her little sister claimed not to believe in Santa anymore, and as a freshman she really shouldn’t, but Applejack had always had a sneaking suspicion that her sibling hadn’t quite been ready to let go just yet. Even so, if she was getting ready to wait for him, she’d chosen a strange time for it. It was nearly one in the morning…and on that same note, Applejack was having trouble believing that it was Granny Smith or Big Mac putting the presents out. They would be far more discrete; part of her realised she should have been taken it more seriously, but for the moment the girl was too bleary-eyed to really care, heading for the lounge to sort this out…whatever ‘it’ was.
The lounge, when she got there, was much as she’d left it last night. In the corner stood a Christmas tree, the lights softly twinkling and shimmering. There were presents under it, more than she’d seen. That’d already been done, then; strange. The cushions of the sofas were unmoved, and nothing else in the room disturbed. Most importantly, no matter how much she looked, Applejack could see nothing that could be generating the mysterious rummaging noise; she frowned, eyes panning over the room again. She only stopped when she realised it wasn’t coming from living room at all.
The sound of clattering could be heard behind her, emanating from the kitchen. Applejack froze, eyes widening, suddenly very alert. Slowly, she turned round, considering going upstairs and waking her brother. Frankly, she was amazed he hadn’t heard yet. But…whatever it was didn’t seem to be aware of her presence, and that gave her an advantage. Tossing it up for a moment longer, the girl decided to go and take a peek. Swallowing, and taking a deep breath, she began to creep towards the kitchen; she hesitated outside a moment, just listening to the noise, before tentatively peeking her head round the corner.
She was not sure what she had been expecting. Perhaps a thief of some kind, and in that respect she was technically right. The fridge door was open, obscuring the figure of the person behind it, but whoever they were was searching through it quite leisurely. They were bent over, backside and their feet the only things visible on them, and apparently still unaware of her scrutiny. Applejack frowned once again, walking into the kitchen a little more completely; she had no problem admitting she was thoroughly confused by all this, but whoever this was just didn’t seem…well…threatening.
Applejack opened her mouth to speak, but the girl needn’t have bothered. As if suddenly realising they weren’t alone, the intruder froze. They stayed where they were a moment, presumably contemplating what to do, before straightening and looking at her. Applejack stared. They stared back.
“Hey.” Lorkhan said, raising the turkey leg to his mouth and taking a bite. “How’s it going?”
***
Yesterday afternoon…
“No, Dashie, this is serious!”
Pinkie’s voice was about as close to reprimanding as it ever got, the girl not even looking round from the store shelves. It was still enough to catch Rainbow slightly off-guard, the girl stepping back and raising her hands placatingly. The pink girl didn’t press the issue any more, eyes continuing to scan over the ranks of baking products laid out before her.
Behind her, Rainbow shared a glance with Rarity and Fluttershy, both of them wrapped up warm in fashionable fake-fur coats of the former’s making. They had all pleaded with Pinkie that going to the store on Christmas Eve was just going to an exercise in getting themselves crushed by panicked crowds doing some last-minute shopping, especially since the night was drawing in, but their hyperactive friend had been adamant. She had to make more Christmas cookies overnight, and had run out of supplies to do so, thus making this trip slightly more important to her than oxygen. Somehow, Dash, Fluttershy. Rarity and Applejack had gotten roped into it; Sunset had declined to join them, and based on the girl’s sullen mood when they’d called none wanted to risk upsetting her further. In all fairness, the crowds had dispersed by the time they got there, leaving a few sad-looking Christmas decorations hanging around the aisles, and festive songs faintly audible over the speaker system.
“Pinkie, dear, not that I don’t enjoy spending time with you all, but how long is this going to take?” Rarity asked, grimacing a little. “Sweetie and I have our little cocoa-drinking ritual to indulge in, she’d never forgive me if I missed it!”
“Yeah,” Rainbow nodded, hands in her coat pockets as she kicked some of the snow off her boots. It was starting to pile up on the sidewalks, though the soft flurry had abated for now. “Especially since some of us look like we’re getting a littttllllle antsy…” Her last words were framed with a smirk, voice teasing as she looked over at Applejack.
“Knock it off, Rainbow.” She mumbled, arms folded over her chest and leaning back on the shelf. For the second time in as many minutes the athlete flinched in surprise, the other three girls looking round at their friend.
“Are…you okay, Applejack?” Fluttershy ventured, frowning in concern. The farmgirl bristled, hugging herself a little tighter, evidently annoyed about having drawn attention to herself.
“Ah’m fine.” She said, with a little more vitriol than intended. Taking a deep breath, she forced her words to soften, though only slightly. “Ah’ve just…got a lot of stuff tah be doin’ right now, an’…forget it, it don’t matter.” She grumbled, waving a hand dismissively. The others were silent for a moment, looking at one another.
“Forgive me, darling…” Rarity began, apparently offering herself as the sacrifice. “But…isn’t the harvest season over now?”
“Ah do more than just that.” Applejack snapped, frayed temper getting the best of her for a moment. “Ah’ve gotta get the animals in, start tallyin’ up the sales logs for the year with Granny, finish wrappin’ everyone’s presents, trim the dead branches off the trees…” She trailed off again, sighing.
“Oh, Applejack.” Pinkie said, a warm smile crossing her face. “You don’t have to worry about all that day! Christmas is a time to relax, to be with friends, not to worry!”
“Easy for y’all to say.” She mumbled, expression darkening further. Pinkie looked a little hurt, but it was Dash that spoke on her behalf.
“She was only trying to help, AJ.” The cyan-skinned girl said, frowning herself now. “You didn’t have to snap…or act like such a Scrooge.” The words hammered home to the farmgirl, and for a moment she almost apologised; she didn’t mean to snap at her friends, and she knew it wasn’t their fault. Still, Rainbow’s abrasive attitude was the last thing Applejack needed right now.
“Well, ah’m sorry, not all of us can just spend the holidays goin’ round chuckin’ snowballs an’ skivin’ outta any responsibility!” She retorted, fixing her friend with an angry glare. Rainbow, never the most understanding young lady at the best of times, didn’t back down.
“Yeah, and not all of us have to be a complete douche about it!” She snapped, magenta eyes narrowing. They held one another’s angry glares for a few moments, the other girls looking nervously between them. Then, Applejack sighed, turning away.
“Forget it, ah don’t need this right now.” She mumbled, already walking away, ignoring Rarity and Pinkie’s pleas for her to stay. Even Rainbow softened, trying to offer some form of apology, but the farmgirl wasn’t having any of it. As the door slammed shut, the girls stared for a moment, before giving a downtrodden sigh in unison.
They were not the only ones privy to Applejack’s outburst, however. On the other side of the aisle, behind the sparse shelves, Perturabo remained stock-still and fumed. If there was something he hated more than his brother…Dorn…and his own students, it was people who refused to get into the holiday spirit.
He hesitated a moment longer before moving, towering form seeming to consume the aisle as he strode down it. The cashier seemed a little cowed as the man paid for his assortment of fresh fruit and vegetables, essential for a healthy lifestyle, but Perturabo spared her no mind. He didn’t even particularly care if Applejack’s friends saw him as he marched out the store, although it was doubtful that they could have missed him. It was quite a long walk, pushing an hour, but he had time to spare. Finally reaching the house he was looking for, the man drew up to it and without hesitation gave three heavy knocks.
It was a while before it was opened, or even the sound of someone coming down the stairs could be heard. When it finally opened, Lorkhan noticeably jumped back, eyes widening and almost choking on the chocolate bar he was eating.
“P-Principal Perturabo?!”
***
“You…” Applejack began, the word catching and dying in her throat from sheer bemusement as she looked the boy up and down. “What…why…” She blinked a few times, as if to make sure what she was seeing was real. It was. Lorkhan watched with dispassionate interest as she took a deep breath, the girl’s head tilting sidewards and letting blonde hair spill over a shoulder. “Whah…are you eatin’ our turkey?” She asked, as if that was the strangest thing about all this. “Our…frozen turkey?”
The boy paused, looking down at the food as if that was news to him. He turned it over in his hand a few times, examining the meat closely. Then, he shrugged. “Pretty much the same as what I get at home.” He explained, taking another bite out of it. Applejack continued to stare at him for a moment, mouth hanging slightly ajar, before she shook her head and tried to blink the whole bizarre scene away once more.
“Right…right.” She said, trying and failing to understand, before looking up at him once more. “Look, it’s Christmas, ah don’t wanna have tah cause a fuss an’ call the cops, so just…y’know, get out.” She asked, gesturing towards the back door. “How did yah get in, anyway?” Applejack went on as the question suddenly occurred to her. Lorkhan swallowed what he was chewing on, returning the half-eaten turkey to its plate and that plate to the fridge, closing the door and pointing to the nearby window.
“Climbed in.” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And trust me, I would love to be back in my own bed right now, but I can’t go until we get this over with.”
That one got her attention, Applejack’s gaze diverting from the open window – which explained the draft, at least – to him, expression growing suspicious once more. “Get…what over with?” She asked, speaking slowly and warily. Once again, Lorkhan paused, his own expression growing uncertain.
“You…don’t know?” He asked, voice equally wary. She shook her head. He stood there a moment, face drawn in a grimace, before speaking again. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” Before she could answer, he’d hidden behind the open fridge door once more, whipping his phone out and hastily dialling a number.
“Yeah?” The voice that eventually picked up sounded like it had just been roused from slumber, and was not too happy about that. Lorkhan couldn’t care less about that.
“Rorke!” He snapped, voice a whispered hiss. “You were supposed to come to the Canterlot bitch’s house at midnight and pretend to be a ghost, what the fuck happened?”
“What?” He growled, sounding genuinely confused. “You were serious about that? I thought you’d just been on the Nog-“ He paused, brain slowly ticking something over. “Wait…have you actually done it?” Lorkhan hesitated, finally opening his mouth to reply, but Rorke’s laughter cut him off. “Oh, shit…oh fucking hell, that’s priceless.” The other boy chuckled, even that sounding like a growl. “How’s it going?”
“How’s it bloody going?!” Lorkhan hissed in reply, features curling into a scowl. “I’m in this random house at one in the morning, and its freezing, and the girl’s asking why I’m here while she’s dressed in her…her underwear-“ Rorke’s laughter cut him off again, certainly not helping to dispel Lorkhan’s growing blush.
“Oh, geez…good luck.” He said, amused snarl audible in his voice. Rorke hung up before Lorkhan could say any more, leaving the other boy to sigh in frustration and hang his head a little. Taking a deep breath, he stood back up, Applejack still staring in utter confusion.
“Call me the ghost of Christmas past.” Lorkhan insisted flatly. “I’ve been told you’re not getting into the Christmas spirit.”
“Ghost of…not getting…” Applejack repeated, looking away and seemingly gaining no greater insight than before. After a moment, however, something seemed to dawn on her. “Wait…did Pinkie Pie put y’all up tah this?” She asked, sighing and looking up once more. “Is this about yesterday aftahnoon?” In all honesty, Lorkhan had no idea; Principal Perturabo had not been particularly forthcoming in explaining his motives. He’d simply issued his orders, and even outside the school grounds, something had compelled Lorkhan to follow them.
“Sure.” He decided. “Let’s go with that.” He sighed, scratching his forehead and adopting his most business-like expression. “Listen, I don’t like this either, but I like what would probably happen to me if I said ‘no’ even less. So let’s just…try and make this as painless as possible for the both of us.” He didn’t phrase it as a request, but she just gave a small nod, and that was good enough for Lorkhan.
He pushed past her, heading into the living room once more, arms folded over his chest. After remaining frozen in place for a moment, Applejack hurried after him, now convinced she was dreaming. Lorkhan seemed to have no such hesitation, glancing idly around the room, eyes lingering on the Christmas tree.
“Huh…not bad.” He conceded, a hint of jealousy in his voice. It died after a moment. “A bit wussy for my taste, but I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any less.” The boy examined the room a little more, eyes eventually falling on the presents at the base of the tree. He strolled over, picking one up quite casually and giving it a shake. It rattled.
“Hey!” Applejack snapped, finally compelled into action. “Be careful, y’hear? That’s for Applebloom!” Lorkhan dropped the present unceremoniously, looking back round at her.
“’Applebloom’?”
“Mah sister.” The girl explained, sighing a little as she did; after her argument with Rainbow earlier, Applejack had been locked in a bad mood, heading straight up to her room and ignoring her sister’s concern when she’d arrived home. She’d apologised, of course, but the guilt persisted. Lorkhan wasn’t aware of any of that, of course, but still nodded.
“That her?” He asked, pointing to a photo on one of the walls. Applejack took a moment to locate it, nodding, melancholy deepening slightly. It’d been taken a few years ago, before even she was a freshman; she was holding Applebloom, the little girl smiling and wearing a Santa hat, Big Mac behind them. She wasn’t entirely sure where the sudden sadness came from, but Lorkhan noticed it, head turning to her. “Why the long face?” It didn’t sound like he really cared, but she answered anyway.
“Ah was…not a very good sister tonight.” She admitted, grimacing. The fact that she was having a casual chat with the boy who had broken into her house should have unnerved her, but at that moment Applejack’s thoughts were elsewhere. “In fact, ah’ve been a bit…grouchy all Christmas season.” Part of her had always been aware of that, of course, but to actually say it brought the fact home to AJ. Once again, she gave a small sigh, rubbing a bare arm.
“Yeah?” Something in his voice compelled Applejack to meet Lorkhan’s eyes; the tone still wasn’t friendly, but it seemed softer, more invested. They maintained the look for a few moments, and for once it was actually Applejack who broke it. “Well, you can’t have been like that all the time.” He observed, folding his arms over his chest. “Why now?”
“If ah knew, would we be havin’ this conversation?” She snapped, fixing him with a dark look, before sighing apologetically. To his credit, Lorkhan didn’t look phased. “Ah dunno…it’s just…it’s so much work for me an’ Mac.” Applejack said, something compelling her to explain herself. “It just feels like…I ain’t got time fer-“
“Can we hold it a moment?” The girl did indeed as Lorkhan spoke, fixing him with a strange look. He didn’t return it this time, looking at the vibrating phone in his hand. “I have to get this.” He apologised, raising the device to his ear. “Hello?”
“Rorke said you’ve broken into a girl’s house.” Lorkhan sighed as the boy’s voice reached his ears.
“Hello to you too, Varvillon.”
“Have you?” He hesitated a moment.
“Well…yes, but-“ Once again, and to his increasing frustration, Lorkhan found himself cut off by one of his companion’s hysterical laughter. “Yes…yes, I’m glad you think this is so funny.” He would have said more, but a faint sound in the background reached his ears. He frowned, trying to place it. “Is…that an engine?” As he asked his question, Varvillon abruptly fell silent, as if looking at someone else to provide him with an answer.
“I…gotta go, Lorkhan! Good luck!” He said insincerely, hurriedly hanging up before Lorkhan could question him anymore. With a frustrated cry, he shoved his phone back into a pocket, stewing in anger for a moment before noticing Applejack’s unimpressed glare.
“Can ah continue now?” She asked. He shrugged.
“If you want.”
“It just…don’t feel the same, y’know?” Applejack went, playing with a lock of blonde hair idly as if she hadn’t been interrupted; Lorkhan was no expert, but even he could tell that this was doing her some good. That almost certainly hadn’t been Principal Perturabo’s intention, but still. “But none of the girls are actin’ any different…so maybe ah…” Once more, she fell quiet. The uneasy silence lasted for a few moments, before something seemed to dawn upon the girl. “Maybe ah just grew out of it all.” Applejack mused quietly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Ah mean, me an’ Rarity are the oldest…maybe it’s just…natural.”
“…Yeah, maybe.” Lorkhan’s answer was clearly not what the farmgirl had wanted to hear, earning another dirty look from her. ”What? What am I supposed to say that’ll spare your precious feelings?” He was being honest, if nothing else, and AJ seemed to respect that at least.
“Well…are we done here?” She asked, patience finally at an end. “Can yah go?” Mercifully, Lorkhan nodded.
“Yeah…I think I’ve done all I can here. You seem to have everything under control.” With that, he headed back to the kitchen and the window he’d climbed through, almost as if he was rushing to get out. Applejack stayed in the living room momentarily, still staring at the photo on the wall. After a moment’s contemplation, she followed.
“Thank yah,” The girl said, arms folded as she leant awkwardly against the doorframe to the kitchen. “Fer listenin’…even if yah are a weirdo.” The boy was crouching on the kitchen worktop by the open window, favouring her with one last look.
“Bloody Canterlot scum,” Lorkhan mumbled, though it didn’t seem like Applejack had heard him. Sighing, he raised his voice. “Yeah yeah, whatever. The next one’ll be along in like an hour or so.”
Applejack stared a moment before the words sank in. When they did, her eyes widened. “The…the ‘next one’?” She repeated. “What d’ya mean the ‘next one’?” Lorkhan, apparently, was in no mood to answer her question. Instead, he somehow managed to squeeze through the open window, back into the cold night outside. And he managed to do all that whilst forgetting about the now-icy water trough sat just outside that window – though from his falling motion as he left, he became familiar with it soon enough.
“Bollocks!”
***
“I…gotta go, Lorkhan! Have fun!”
Ignoring the agitated squawking from the other end of the call, Barbus hung up, breathing a slight sigh of relief that swiftly morphed into a chuckle. It was enough to let him forget the cold for a moment, but only for a moment; soon enough, Barbus shivered, pulling his coat tighter around himself and blowing on his hands, rubbing them together.
“That was abrupt.” In the driver’s seat beside him, Barbus looked round, raising an eyebrow. Varvillon nodded in agreement, but didn’t turn. Instead, he kept looking out the Growler’s front window over the dark, empty, snowy street.
“He heard the engine.” The boy explained. Leaving the thing running kept them warm as they waited by the side of the road, but it did make them a little more conspicuous. “You said he wasn’t to find out what we were doing.” Barbus nodded.
“So…he is actually at Applejack’s house?” The familiarity implied in using her name made Varvillon hesitate, but he nodded. Barbus grinned, chuckling himself. The group fell quiet for a while, until something in the back seat moved, the whole car shaking with it.
“Vat…are ve doing?” Vortun asked, face drawn in a frown as he tried to clarify that. He took up virtually the whole back-seats of the car, leaning forward to stick his head between the front two. Neither of the others flinched, Barbus shuffling over a little and pointing at a house across the street.
“See that?” He asked. “Well, I was talking to Khelmaur the other day…that house is where Coach Golg lives.” He announced, a little triumphantly. It certainly got their attentions, Vortun and Varvillon both looking at him in surprise.
“Wait…Coach Golg lives here?” The latter asked, glancing around the suburb. Erasmus Golg was the gym teacher, and one of the few people that every student at Olympia High could agree they hated. It was rumoured that even Principal Perturabo thought he was an idiot, a point of view that was hard to argue with, but kept him on the payroll simply because he was such a harsh taskmaster in class. The idea that he lived here, on the comfortable side of town, was hard to stomach. “Are…are you sure?”
“Khelmaur said house number twenty-seven. That’s gotta be it.” Barbus insisted. “And look, his car’s here.” Barbus went on, gesturing across the road. A car that looked like Coach Golg’s was certainly there, but it was hard to make out any detail. “Don’t tell me that this doesn’t appeal to you.” In truth, it did; both of them were sufficiently bitter at the hardships Golg had put them through in the past to make whatever revenge Barbus had in mind appealing. Still, it was undeniably more risky than either liked.
“So…vat exactly do you intend to do?” Vortun asked, raising an eyebrow. “And vhy can’t ve tell Herr Lorkhan?”
“We can’t tell Lorkhan, because after last time I don’t trust him, Zuko, or Mord on a stealth mission.” Barbus explained, not bothering to hide his exasperation at the memory. “And from the looks of it, he’s still got an old-fashioned chim-“
“No.” Barbus came crashing to a halt as Varvillon’s firm words interjected. The boy’s face was just as serious. “No,” he repeated. “I know what you’re going to say. You want one of us to somehow get up onto the roof, in the spirit of the season go down the chimney, open it up from the inside and do…something.” Barbus remained silent, cheeks turning a brighter red; that was exactly what he’d been about to suggest, but there was no way he could admit it now. Still, Varvillon caught on. “Forgive me for sounding like Rorke, but fuck that. I’m tired of…sneaking around everywhere. It’s not what we do, it feels…out of character…” He trailed off, all three of them looking a little uncomfortable at that. Barbus decided to take the initiative, clapping his hands on Varvillon’s shoulders.
“I give you my word,” he said, voice as sincere as it had ever been. “This is the last sneaking we do. After Christmas, everything goes back to how it used to be…just give me this one gift.” He implored. The slight sappiness of it made Varvillon frown, but after a moment he relented, sighing.
“Alright…for you. You owe me.” He grumbled. It was all Barbus needed to hear; the boy grinned, raising his fist to bump – an offer that Varvillon took him up on – whilst in the back seat, Vortun mumbled despairingly and rolled his eyes. With that, Barbus put an arm around Varvillon’s shoulders, gesturing out with a wide sweep of his other arm.
“…go get ‘em, Santa Claus!”
TO BE CONTINUED