Muses' Warming Eve
By Tundara
Deep within the sprawling Canterlot Castle, near the top of the tallest tower, there is a room dreaded by all servants. A room filled with the greatest terrors to roam Equestria. Horror and misery followed in their wake, heralded only by giggles and the pounding of nine sets of hooves. The room did its best to contain the chaos, aided by the wardens, but the menaces were crafty and escape was common.
This cold, winter night was no different within the Royal Nursery.
Bouncing on their beds the Muses sang Hearth’s Warming carols, for this was Hearth’s Warming Eve, and their little heads will filled with the promise of presents, delicious foods, and sweets on the marrow. They laughed and sang, with little Aoide leading, their voices reaching the castle courtyard far below. Her small, powder white wings buzzed as she bounded up, up, and then came down to skip across the plush carpet.
“Presents, presents, lots and lots and lots of presents!” Aoide sang, the chorus joined by her sisters.
“Oh, could you please be quiet?” growled a tenth filly, Princess Skyla of the Crystal City, her pink hooves holding her pillows over her head. “Some of us want to sleep.”
She was not usually part of the Muses circle, her family living much farther to the north. But, Hearth’s Warming was a time for herds to gather, and so the sprawling House Invictus had come together within Canterlot.
“We can’t,” Calliope, the fourth of the sisters, gave a dramatic swoon, back of hoof pressed to her forehead. “Just think! Sandy Hooves is leaving his lair at the very tippy-top of the disc right now to bring presents to all the good fillies and colts of Ioka. How can you not be excited, Skyla?”
“Oh, I don’t know, because there isn’t a Sandy Hooves?” Skyla made an exaggerated snort as the Muses let out a collective gasp, their dancing and joy coming to a squealing halt.
Skyla regretted her words at once. Tears began build, and if it had been possible they’d have started trickling down the Muses faces.
The first bawls rang out like the resounding bangs of bells. Skyla did her best to take back her words. Of course there is a Sandy Hooves! Presents! So many presents! With bows and ribbons galore! And think of the tarts, cakes, and sweets!
But to no avail.
Distinct clicks reached Skyla from the stairs, and she pressed her ears back and gulped. They stopped in the same moment the Muses ceased their bawling, little faces craned around to peer at the door as it groaned open.
Rarity and Celestia stood in the door, and they did not look pleased.
“Mama!” The Muses cried rushing around the pair. “Skyla is being mean again. She says there is no Sandy Hooves.”
“Oh, is that all?” Rarity blinked a couple times a warm smile growing on her muzzle. “I’m certain she didn’t mean it, did you, dear?”
Skyla sat up on her bed as if a ruler had been cracked across her hoof. “No! Of course not! I was just being cranky because of the noise. I’m sorry.”
She gave an appropriately chastised expression; ears hanging, eyes to the floor, and tail limp.
“See?” Rarity gathered the Muses and lead them to their beds. She and Celestia tucked each in and kissed them on their foreheads. “You know I’ve been up at the pole these past few weeks helping him and the elves make sure everything would be just perfect for Hearth’s Warming.”
“What’s he like, mama?” Clio, youngest of the Muses, asked Celestia as she received her kiss.
Putting on her thoughtful face, Celestia made a low hum.
“Well, you all know the stories. How his laugh is filled with the most wonderful warmth and makes him shake like jelly. There is a sparkle in his eye for every good little filly or colt. If you get close he smells of peppermint.”
“Is he an alicorn, like us?”
“Of course.”
“Can we meet him?”
Celestia gave a little laugh. “Maybe someday, but he is very shy.”
Satisfied Clio sunk into her pillows and her eyes fluttered shut.
“Merry Hearth’s Warming, girls,” Rarity and Celestia said before they snuffed the candles and closed the door.
No sooner had the soft echo of their hooves dissipated when Polyhymnia went, “Pst, Melete.”
Her sister rolled over and grumbled.
“Melete.”
A huff.
“Melete!”
“What?” Melete rolled over to glare at her little sister. “It’s lights out, that means it’s sleeping time.”
“I can’t sleep, though,” Polyhymnia protested, covers kicked up and hooves splayed out. “I keep thinking of what presents he’s bringing. Will I get that new harp? Or maybe a violin! Oh, oh, oh! A piano!”
“Don’t you already have all of those?” Melete lifted up a brow.
“Well, yes, but—”
“You’re going to get us in trouble you two,” hissed Calliope. “Besides, Sandy Hooves will only come once we’re all asl—”
At that precise moment a bang echoed from the roof to the jingle of bells. The eight fillies eyes all widened, a collective gasp filling their throats and held back. A tromp-tromp-tromp of hooves on the roof lead to the fireplace. Within the hearth the embers grew dimmer, and then puffed outward in a quiet explosion of glittering rainbow dust as something passed down the chimney on its way to the game room at the tower’s base.
Nothing needed to be said as the eight fillies flung themselves from their beds and down the stairs, slowing only when they reached the landing before the bottom floor. From there they could see the floor around the hearth covered in rainbow dust. Large hoofprints lead through the dust towards the Hearth’s Warming Tree.
Presents from relatives and friends—the fillies had many; from House Sparkle, to the Empress of Zebrica, with kings, queens, archons, and the even the tyrants of Tartarus—had already been stacked around the tree so that it seemed like it was buried in a snowdrift of brightly coloured paper and ribbons. To this short hill more were being added, pulled from a bright red bag trimmed in white by a large stallion in a matching coat. Magic of soft tinsel green coated his horn while smaller gifts darted into the stocking placed on the mantle and the larger gifts were stacked neat into an empty corner beside the tree.
Gifts delivered, Sandy Hooves tossed the bag over his back between snowy white wings. From the plate placed on a small table he took a couple cookies and a sip of brandy before making his way to the chimney.
“Ho, ho, ho, girls, you should be in bed,” he said without looking back, and then he vanished up the chimney in a swirl of magic.
The girls looked to each other, and then squealed with delight.
Over in their room, Rarity shook her head before leaning her chin against Celestia’s shoulder.
“We’re going to have to thank him this time, love,” Rarity giggled. “Zeus has a way with foals.”
Celestia raised a brow. “I need do no such thing. He’s practically a foal himself.” She clicked her tongue then sighed as Rarity gave her a long, humourless glare. “Fine. Just this once, and only for the fillies. He really doesn’t need any more encouragement. He’s going to be insufferable enough as it is.”
Leaning up to give Celestia a little kiss on the cheek, Rarity purred, “That’s all I ask. Now, you better ready yourself…” Rarity warned, the approaching stampede of hooves and cries of, ‘He came!’ already piercing their door.
There was barely time for them to trade, “Merry Hearth’s Warming, love,” before the doors were flung open and their little joys came pouring through.