//------------------------------//
// Hearth's Warming Eve 
// Story: Norrath, Earth, Equestria. A Construct's Journey 
// by Nimnul 
//------------------------------//

	It seemed a little peculiar to Landshark how familiar the various elements of Hearth's Warming decorations were already feeling to her, but she generally tried not to question such things. If ever she needed a quick escape from Princess Twilight, she might try asking about such unexpected parallels and then run for it while Twilight theorized.

Lyra and her father had eventually returned from the theater, evidently having enjoyed the event, and the opportunity to meet acquaintances who had also attended, making the traditional play also something of a pleasant social event. 

Landshark generally appreciated meeting new people, but she supposed  she was still wary of the Canterlot upper class and thus glad to have stayed in with Enny and Bon Bon, who had eventually switched from making candy and baked goods to the intended meal for dinner.

The centerpiece was some loaf-like thing called a nut roast. This seemed to be to every present pony's taste, together with a variety of side dishes. The construct hadn't been particularly inquisitive about the specifics.

"Perhaps next year we might have stewed kale again?" The tone suggested that the proposal might be some manner of joke. Enny could not stop herself from grinning at her daughter.

Lyra stuck out her tongue. "Eww, no! I don't care what you eat, but the whole place always smells disgusting when you make that. I don't wanna come here and smell nothing but kale."

"Suppose it was too much to hope you'd come around on it as you grew up," her father remarked. "Ah well, we'll just have some once you've gone back home."

"Never happen." Lyra wrinkled her nose. "Cannot stand that smell."

"Can take it or leave it. Don't really mind the smell, myself." Bon Bon shrugged and kept eating with obvious enthusiasm. "We did a good job, Enny."

"I agree!" The bigger pony smiled brilliantly before addressing Landshark. "Anything we can do for you? It is still strange to have a guest who does not share the meal."

Not the first time she'd heard that. She appreciated that sort of remark, since it generally meant the other party saw her as a person. "Told you the day we met, don't worry about it. Good company is all I need." She generally tried to avoid giving the impression of staring at food with too much interest, some found it strange, or maybe impolite.

The meal passed by quickly. "All that work, and you just scarf it down inside of fifteen minutes, huh?" Bon Bon shook her head, but she seemed to be merely teasing.

"Oh yeah," Lyra nodded. "Just tastes too good to take it slow, y'know?"

"Tch, that's not how you savor things, ya glutton."

"Pah, I just eat more in the time you take to 'savor' it." She stuck out her tongue. "Can't eat another bite, tho."

Seemed to Landshark that Lyra's mother had eaten a lot more than the other ponies, although that made sense, given she was a pony of a larger scale.

"By the way, how were the stage effects? Big difference to past years?" She had remembered Trixie mentioning she'd work at the theater for a time, until the weather was nicer again.

"Oh, pretty great! I'll really need to ask sometime how they pulled off the ice thing, looked very good!" Lyra seemed impressed.  "I wonder if they used illusions or real cold magic. Seemed more real than previous years."

"I agree," her father added. "I didn't notice many other changes, but the quality has always been high."

Well, at least that meant Trixie had been equal to the task, regarding the stage effects.

Once everyone had had their fill, Enny and Lyra began clearing away the dishes and got started on the task of cleaning up the kitchen, although there was some grumbling from the younger unicorn.

Mutual Advantage made no move to help out beyond stacking up plates for easier transport. He addressed the construct. "Care to join me on the balcony again?"

"Sure thing. Looks like the ladies got the real work covered." Landshark wasn't planning on having a smoke, but that wasn't a good reason to decline the invitation.

"Don't be too long," Enny called after them.

"Wouldn't want to miss the main event," her husband agreed before going to collect his pipe and tobacco.





Mutual Advantage shivered a little, despite wearing his coat. The moon was up already, of course, and it was cold, but windows were lit all over the city and many buildings sported festive strings of colored lights, so true darkness hadn't set in, not really.

"So, how you holding up?"

The question was unexpected, and at first Landshark merely shrugged as she watched the pony prepare his pipe. "I'm fine," she ventured eventually. "Why?" She didn't think she had given any indication to the contrary.

"Hmm." The stallion carefully tapped the side of the pipe's bowl until the tobacco settled to make room for a little more. "Good pack's impossible, you know. That one pack and light that goes down to the bottom without needing to be relit, flavorful all the way." He chuckled. "Never happens, except when it does. They're the ones you keep smoking for, I suppose. Good to look forward to."

"Guess you wouldn't know, though." He peered up at the construct. "You seem fine, sure. Nopony better than my wife to tell when somepony's hurting. Lyra's good at it, too." He pointed his pipe at Landshark before lighting it. "You're not a pony, though."

The stallion grimaced. "Allow me to rephrase. You're someone, but you're not made of meat. The mares, they can see when somepony's not doing so good." He tapped his own head. "But I know how people tick."

"Sure," Landshark agreed. "Seems helpful in business. Where's this going?"

"I do listen to my daughter, and I read her letters, you know." He made a sweeping gesture towards the rest of Canterlot. "It's a celebration of unity. We're better off together than alone. You, though, have lost touch with everyone and everything that helped you become who you are. Possibly permanently." He hesitated. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, as Lyra's been vague about your story, but I'd like to add 'the foundation of everything you want to be' to the list. I think," he concluded, "I would be completely devastated in your place. Haven't heard anything of the sort from Lyra, though."

"I've been holding up well." She couldn't fault his reasoning, of course. Anyone who valued, truly valued, their life and the people in it, would surely be deeply hurt, for a time. "I suppose I'm too confident, or maybe even arrogant, to allow myself much anxiety of that sort. It might be personal, too."

"Care to elaborate?" The pipe wandered from one corner of his mouth to the other.

"I'm free. Being alive, and enjoying it, are ends in themselves. There can't be a circumstance in which I despair. I had the backbone to turn against my god and creator, I've got to have the backbone to weather any lesser adversity."

She shrugged. "That sounds a bit grandiose, though. I can envision the doubts you'd expect." She raised one hand. "Will my new friendships here replace my old friends, my old life, in my heart? What did they really mean, then?" Gesturing with the other hand, she went on. "But if they truly can't be replaced, will I ever recover from that wrenching loss? And I do miss my old friends, my old tasks, make no mistake."

"About the lines I was thinking along," Mutual Advantage agreed. "Just didn't seem like this particular flavor of holiday would leave you wanting to celebrate." He tilted his head. "So, if the first bit is too grandiose, then what's your way of dealing with it?"

"Eh, I just figure that this is, in fact, the afterlife, or next life, whatever. Human souls get recycled into ponies or other thinking critters, but because I wasn't originally from that world, the afterlife machinery didn't know what to do with me and just spat me out with my memories and self-image intact."

"That neither answers my questions, nor does it make a lick of sense."

Landshark supposed that Mutual Advantage had the interpersonal skills not to fall for such a lame joke. "No, and it doesn't account for my equipment, either." She emitted a sigh. "Not a week goes by that I don't miss something. A movie, a book, a song. Reading at night – humans collect so much information about things I'd never think to ask about." The internet was devious that way. Always just another link towards something uselessly trivial yet damnably interesting. It had been a good thing she slept so little.

"I miss road trips when we were on leave, driving all night, singing along to bad music and burning smokes all the way. Playing pranks on other people. Trading booze for favors with the lads in charge of supplies. Keeping the poor guys on the night shift awake with small talk. A thousand petty little things I cherished." She shrugged. "I can't, in good conscience, encourage outsiders to try and break through to our world. Goes against everything we worked for. Making that choice mine, it helps a little, you know? I'm here, and I own it."

Of course, once people knew something was possible, sooner or later they might want to figure out how, regardless of her own wishes, but there wasn't much use in worrying about it ahead of time.

"I had been curious whether there were attempts to get you back home. Guess they wouldn't keep you in the loop if you rejected the idea like that, I suppose. Tch." He made a disapproving noise, used his magic to tamp down gently on his tobacco and lit it again. "This wasn't 'the good one', see?"

"No, I suppose they wouldn't. I'll do Celestia the courtesy of assuming she's not looking into it, though." She paused to think. "I'm ultimately immutable, you know? I've told this to a few ponies, as a fact. I can't actually know that, of course, since I don't really know how my mind works and the observable sample size is one. It's more of a promise, I guess. I've built myself a personality with the help of a lot of good people, and some questionable sorts, and nothing, no amount of suffering can warp me for the worse. I'm a living reminder that people can be free of the gods, and a monument to my friends." 

She chuckled. "And a monument's no good with no one to look at it, so I gotta stay in circulation, right?" She affected a more serious tone. "Seriously, though, I don't ever want to become so afraid of losing something that I don't want to have it in the first place. I blame my construction. My lows don't drag me down too far, and my highs aren't particularly exuberant. I don't like fervor, anyway."

She didn't think she was all that alien, but she always felt that, talking about her own feelings, she was doing a poor job of illustrating the point. The only time she experienced real, involuntary agitation was when she was mad about something, which happened rarely enough. Since any emotional displays were acted out by choice, she really didn't have an actually convincing proof that she felt things like flesh and blood people might. Everyone else had to take her word for it.

"Sounds fair enough. You gotta play with the cards you're dealt." Hard to say what the stallion really thought, but he probably was giving Landshark credit just for being a decent friend to his daughter.

"Well, I'm not really above cheating, y'know?" She tapped her chin. "It's one of those things. I don't really like to cost anyone unduly, but that's just a preference. But consider: when you call someone 'gifted' it tends to mean they're uncommonly good at something, perhaps beyond others who've put in the same work. Well, who's doing the gifting? Nature? The gods? Fate?" Landshark shrugged and  changed to a more jocular tone. "Well, cheating's just a gift you give to yourself, right? I'll play dirty if it's for keeps and don't fancy the hand I've been dealt. It's not like I can expect further gifts from the gods."

Obviously she wasn't going to go around cheating ponies out of their bits, that'd just be petty. Still, her general regard for rules was mostly something she practiced because it helped smooth out coexistence with other people. "If you got morals, you don't need honor."

"Everypony takes a shortcut sometimes, but I always did do right by my employees and ponies close to me. Might be I'm old-fashioned that way." Once finished with his pipe, he emptied it into an ash-tray. "Let's head back in, they'll be getting antsy."





The living room's seasonal decorations were tastefully understated, which, Landshark began to assume, was part of a trend. It was obvious these people had money to spare, but perhaps Enny didn't feel the need to make a big show of it because she herself was notable enough. Just a guess, of course, but the large unicorn was certainly confident enough to make it seem like a sensible one.

The decorative tree was no larger than necessary as well, just enough so one could properly position a small number of gifts below it.

Enny was grinning widely at her daughter and Bon Bon. "Well, I'm sure you are eager for your presents, but perhaps you ought to sing a nice carol for us first, like good little fillies?"

"Mooom," Lyra rolled her eyes. "I'll play a few chords, but I don't feel like singing."

Bon Bon didn't even bother responding, only offering a wry little smile. She seemed familiar with the exchange. Apparently, she had no intention of singing.

Mutual Advantage took the opportunity to start winding up an old record player. Gramophone? They hadn't existed where Landshark had been created, yet had been badly outdated among humans. She wasn't particularly familiar with them, really.

"I kid, I kid. Settle down, and listen!" As her husband lowered the needle onto the record, Enny began singing along to the music. She obviously didn't mind singing alone, although her husband might have been mouthing the words to himself.

It was a good pony song, with all the usual trappings. Fires of friendship, loyalty, kindness, all the good stuff, no appeals or references to any higher powers of any sort. Landshark was just going to count herself as a 'pony friend', although the song probably didn't mean 'friend to ponies'.

Once, Landshark had learned that it wasn't necessarily easy for untrained mortals to sing clearly and without wavering. Like any other skill, it took practice. On the other hand, ponies seemed to be pretty good at singing on average, having them break into song for various reasons was not altogether uncommon in Ponyville.

The construct didn't have perfect recall, but once she did know a song by heart, reproducing it took no more skill than winding up the gramophone would. She didn't have lungs or a vocal apparatus, it was all magic and her will.

Enny certainly sang well and with obvious delight. She'd previously told Landshark that the proper song, uplifting or comforting, could make all the difference when faced with hardship, although the construct figured that wasn't often the reason she might sing here in Canterlot. Enny had called her life easy, after all.

Once she'd finished the song, the large unicorn noted, "I'm quite fond of this one, even though I don't find the local winter worth mentioning in song."

"Yeah yeah," Bon Bon teased. "Your favorite part of winter is telling the rest of us how soft we are, huh? Not everypony's got the double coat."

Enny laughed. "That is very fun, yes. But my favorite part of winter is the snow. When I was a little filly, we played in the snow, of course, but it was nothing special. You just grow up assuming that snow is normal, the summers are so short." She paused, a fond smile on her lips. "But here? I like to go out to parks or playgrounds when the first snow is scheduled. It is so special to the little ponies who come to play, a great joy to watch."

"I may joke about winters not being impressive, but I'm always ready to be swept up in that excitement," she concluded.

"It's true," Lyra agreed. "Some of my favorite memories came about that way."

"I say, having children is the best excuse for having that sort of fun. That is half the reason I volunteer at the orphanage!" She laughed again. "I insist that there is a difference between being childish and being immature. I know all my responsibilities."

"Never in doubt," her husband nodded. "But let's get to the main event, shall we? Bon Bon, you're pretty hard to shop for, you know?"

The earth pony in question snorted. "That's funny, coming from you two."

"Well, be that as it may, this is for you." The stallion floated an envelope towards Bon Bon who accepted the gift and opened it so Lyra could also see the contents.

"Gift card for the Canterlot Carousel, huh? Thanks."

"I've been there before," Lyra mentioned. "It's okay, but I bet Rarity would accept that in Ponyville, too. It's paid for already, and she'd come up with something you'd be comfortable wearing."

"That's true," Bon Bon nodded, then smiled. "Really, thanks."

Bon Bon was the sort of pony who'd be a little uncomfortable if Rarity insisted on giving her a freebie. Showing up with a prepaid gift card would reduce the risk of that happening.

"I'm glad you approve, Bonny! I'm sure the right outfight might embellish your natural beauty." Enny stated with conviction.  

"Thought you weren't much for dressing up, yourself." The earth pony didn't obviously react to the compliment, although there might have been a subtle blush.

Enny scoffed at that. "My own stance should be quite irrelevant, no? I simply find other ways to look my best, if the occasion warrants it."

Landshark figured the mare might fancy up her mane or tail, or maybe wear some jewelry, if she really didn't care to wear dresses. Not an opinion the construct shared, she liked to wear a dress on occasion, and mildly regretted not packing the one Rarity had tailored for her.

"You're pretty much always beautiful," Mutual Advantage commented with a smile. 

"Oh, I know," Enny agreed happily. She probably only had a very theoretical idea what 'bashful' meant. "Still, it is sometimes rewarding to apply a little effort." She applied her magic to levitate a gift towards her daughter. "It's your turn now."

Lyra eagerly tore the wrapping paper off to reveal a book. The volume seemed old and a bit yellowed with age. "Zebrica: Creatures of Folklore and Fable, by Clipper Keen."

"Hm." Bon Bon seemed uncertain. "Thought you had that somewhere at home. Sounds familiar."

"Well, sure," Lyra nodded, then hovered the book over to Bon Bon. "But this is a first edition, probably older than mom! It's said to have a really condescending foreword and comments about zebra cultures. The subsequent print runs, well, they had other editors."

"I guess that'll class up our bookshelf?" Bon Bon didn't appear wholly convinced. "Hard to find, I take it?"

"Stroke of luck, really," Lyra's father agreed. "Used book store."

"Yeah, this is a collector's item." She grinned, evidently feeling happy about a gift that showed her parents had at least some appreciation for her interests. As Lyra had once claimed, reading about strange creatures that might or might not exist spoke to her imagination. "Bet not even Twilight has a first edition."

"Well," Bon Bon reasoned, "I'd wager, if the only difference is the author sounding like a jerk in the first run, she wouldn't care about having a nicer edition, so long as the scholarly stuff is intact."

"True, true." Lyra inspected the book again. "I'll take good care of it. Thanks!" 

"No problem. Enny and I, we're not really up to date on your current interests, but you were into those tales before you moved out, so if nothing else it's a little nostalgia," her father explained. Apparently they hadn't been entirely sure the gift would be appropriate.

"I've still got all my books, just had other things on my mind." Lyra shrugged. "Besides, we had our share of strange beasts popping right into Ponyville these past years anyway. I'd rather be reading about Ursa Minors than see them in town, for example."

She started grinning. "But anyway, Bonny was right, it's you two who're hard to shop for." She raised a hoof. "Ah, don't say anything. Yeah yeah, no need to get you anything, don't need to repeat it."

"We got you tickets for a balloon ride over Cloudsdale," Bon Bon explained. "Heard it's pretty interesting even if it's all made of clouds. Hope you're not scared of flying?"

"That remains to be seen!" Enny didn't seem like the type to be scared. "I've never traveled by air, but I do not see cause for worry. Pegasi control the weather, after all. I would not expect difficulties above Cloudsdale, of all places."

"And it's a place I've not seen before, there aren't many of those left in Equestria. I assume this will be in spring or summer?"

"Yeah," Lyra passed an envelope to her father. "There's a choice of dates, I guess it's more of a gift card than actual tickets."

Well, a new experience seemed like a pretty good gift in Landshark's estimation. 

Bon Bon addressed the construct. "Pinchy and Dinky asked me to give you this, by the way." She pointed at another envelope under the tree. Landshark hadn't really considered the possibility that she might get anything, but she dutifully retrieved it.

It was a store-bought greeting card, with messages from the fillies, wishing Landshark a happy holiday. Additionally, it included a message from Dinky claiming that she and Pinchy had come up with an impact-sensitive mix that might be used to recycle spent primers. Apparently they'd been grinding up match-heads. That seemed exceptionally tedious, but the construct supposed she didn't have a whole lot of options. She'd just have to test the claim.

It left Landshark feeling a little uncomfortable, but since neither Berry nor Ditzy had attempted to twist her head off recently, she assumed the fillies had played things safe. The construct hadn't really expected anything to come of it when Dinky had asked to take some spent primers home with her. "Can't wait to get home to thank them." 

"Time for our gifts, Bonny!" With evident excitement, Lyra retrieved two boxes from beneath the tree.

"Okay, first, we know what we're getting, and second, when did you even have time to wrap those?"

"A mare's gotta have her seeecrets! Besides, don't be such a curmudgeon. It's no fun without the wrapping paper." Lyra shoved one of the presents towards Bon Bon.

"Alright, alright." The earth pony methodically removed the wrapping paper before opening up the small box and retrieving a single horseshoe.

"Tch, that's not how you open a present!" Lyra attacked her own gift with her telekinesis, shredding the paper with gusto. "Ta-da!"

"Bon Bon's version is easier to clean up, though," Mutual Advantage noted. It was true. Lyra now sat surrounded by ripped up remains of wrapping paper, both from this gift and the book she'd received from her parents.

Lyra ignored him in favor of locking eyes with Bon Bon. "Suppose Shark did the real work, but I helped make your set. Nopony will be able to take these away, if you don't allow it. If you're not using them, they'll be useless for anypony else." She smiled as she picked up one of her own horseshoes. "Maybe they don't seem all that different from others, but they're special, and unique."

Bon Bon nodded. "Well, I helped a little with your set, too." She hesitated, looking for the right words. "You really helped me and motivated me to pull myself together. That's what nopony can take away. I want you to remember that, in case you ever get to worrying about your life again."

"Don't compare yourself to anypony else, okay? You didn't have to go out of your way for me, back then." Bon Bon snorted. "Bothers me when ponies do something good and selfless and then claim they jus' did what anypony woulda done. Not true. Most ponies see something bad or just uncomfortable and think 'I'm not gonna get involved.' and go on their merry way. You were more patient with me than anypony coulda asked of you, right from the start."

Bon Bon turned the horseshoe over between her hooves. "I never say it enough, but I love you, and I want you to give yourself more credit for ... for who you are, I guess." 

"I know you do, Bonny! We've been together for long enough. Love you, too, Bonny." Lyra bit her lip. "Uh, that's all I got. I love you. Happy Hearth's Warming."

The two leaned together to share a kiss.

Mutual Advantage muttered something under his breath about a good idea and leaned closer to his wife, who seemed happy to let the moment pass without comment, instead simply giving her husband a kiss as well.

Romantic love wasn't really part of Landshark's range of experiences, but maybe that just made it easier for her to be happy for her friends. She didn't have it, didn't need it, but it obviously enriched their lives. She also spared a thought for those friends who had remained in Ponyville. They'd probably spend the evening together. Berry and Ditzy didn't seem to mind being single, but perhaps it wasn't the sort of thing you talked to a machine about. 

It hadn't been quite a year, but Landshark thought she'd gotten off to a good start in this weird pony world. Mostly smooth, anyway. Just getting to go out and be a sort of regular citizen was something she couldn't have had among humans, not easily. She'd made friends who liked to have her around, she offered employment to some folk, she was generally a net plus in this world. Irritants like the princesses were mild enough that she could tell herself that she might grow even better at being nice to them, so long as it was warranted.

No reason not to look forward with optimism.