Midwinter Night's Dream
Cheese squinted, trying to protect his watering eyes, and hunched his shoulders against the icy gusts whistling down the long, winding streets of Canterlot. Night had fallen early, several hours ago. He was cold, hungry, and exhausted. It felt impossible to go on, and yet he had to: his Cheesy Sense was forcing him to.
It had become tyrannical lately, relentlessly dragging him towards Canterlot while viciously batting him onto many side trips to throw parties along the way—Smokey Mountain, Las Pegasus, Dodge Junction. As a result, he was always feeling compelled to throw the next party while he was already in the middle of throwing one. It was leaving him no time for rest in between parties, and little time for food or sleep. Cheesy Sense was acting less like the gift he’d always felt it was, and more like some kind of virus that was going to kill its host and simply didn’t care.
He hadn’t felt this way since his magic had mysteriously become fused with Pinkie Pie’s and he’d first experienced that horrible bidirectional pull. But then he hadn’t understood it, and he was trying to run away from it. Now he knew more or less how it worked: his magical capacity to spread Joy was greatly amplified, but also dependent on his continued contact with Pinkie. Sooner or later, he always had to go back for renewal to her, the Living Spirit of Laughter. Once he’d understood that much, he’d tried to convince himself that it was the only thing pulling him back towards Pinkie, and worse, he’d almost convinced Pinkie of this, too. And it wasn’t true. He loved her. Whatever he was meant to do with his life, however she felt about him, there was nothing forced about his love for her. That, too, was magic, but it was the kind of magic that had to be free, like Laughter Herself. But now he wasn’t fighting anything anymore, so why was his Cheesy Sense pulling him in pieces like this?
Frost furred his coat. Ice froze the fringes of his serape into a solid piece and his fetlocks into spiky cuffs; it froze his forelock into a long, drooping icicle. He’d run through the last of his food a day ago and he hadn’t slept. Worst of all, his magic was running dangerously low, so he couldn’t pull his belongings out or put them away. Items he had in storage were beginning to drop away—a juggling ball here, a party horn there—lying half-covered in snow where they’d fallen. That was a very bad sign. He really needed to get to Pinkie, or he would be in big trouble.
He barely registered the brilliantly lit windows on either side of the street. The ponies inside were warm, and he wasn’t, and he didn’t want to think about that. He kept hoping that the next house might be his final destination, or the next, or the next, but none of them were. And it just figured that wherever he was going seemed to be straight uphill.
He didn’t even notice passing the iron gates, mounded high in snow. All he knew was that this dark doorstep was exactly where he was supposed to be. He wasn’t sure why he was needed here, actually, because the ponies inside—stallions, from the sound of them—seemed to be having an awfully good time already.
How was he going to get their attention? He could hardly lift his hoof to the knocker, and he didn’t think he could raise his voice loud enough to make himself heard. He didn’t have to consider this for long. He could scarcely feel the twitch in his flank, but he could hear the squeal of the accordion on it, more effective than any doorbell.
“I’ve got it!” a masculine voice called, and a Royal Guard popped his head out the door, grinning broadly. “Hey! Happy—um, I mean, Halt! Who goes there?” he said, correcting his greeting at the last moment.
The light from the hearth spilled out onto the snow-covered threshold. He could sense the warmth and imagine it, but not quite feel it. Me, thought Cheese. I go here. Would it kill you to let me in first? He shivered and his teeth chattered, so that he could just barely stammer, “Ch, ch, ch . . .”
“Chicken?” guessed the guard.
Another guard joined the first. “Hey, you’re right, Parade Ground, he’s got a rubber chicken frozen to his back. Weird.”
Cheese couldn’t quite shake his head, but he quivered it, and tried again. “N-n-n. Ch, ch, ch . . .”
“Chocolate?”
Oh, come on! Cheese thought.
“Chuckles? Chimichanga? Cherry?” they guessed.
“Cheesie!” squeaked a voice high above them.
Cheese glanced up and froze. There, suspended from the ceiling and surrounded by a warm, rosy glow, hung a small, perfectly rounded pink mare, forelegs flung open and smelling of candy canes. In short, it was Pinkie Pie, and Cheese had never been happier to see her. She dropped to the floor and rushed to the door, pulling him inside.
“Wu-wow, Cheesie,” she said, poking at his shoulder and flank, “you’re like some kind of pony popsicle. Are you ok?” He bugged his eyes out at her. They were the only part of him that hadn’t frozen as solid as a brick. “I’m gonna assume that means no.”
She circled around behind him and began pushing him with her head, through the door, past the guards, and out into the hall. “I was gonna—oof!—start to get worried—whoo!—if you hadn’t shown up soon, but you’re just in time!”
The ice on his horseshoes helped to slide him along, but when they reached the foot of a long staircase, Pinkie had to stop. She trotted around him, looking at him from all angles and pausing to frown and rub her chin with her hoof. Suddenly her face lit up, and she raced off, bringing back with her a small wooden sled. She trussed his feet up onto the sled, and trotted up the stairs with him trailing behind her as though he were a filly or colt’s pull toy, thumping as he rattled up each stair.
Stilton, this place is big, he thought vaguely, as Pinkie pulled him down a long corridor. To their right, high windows rose, through which poured a soft purple light swirling with snow that he was very happy not to be out in anymore. He noticed a series of doors, high and wide like the windows, and wondered which they were going to go through, but Pinkie did not stop until they were past them. She stopped at a much smaller door, behind which he could hear laughter, lighter and higher in pitch than the laughter he’d heard downstairs. She pushed open the door, zoomed behind him, and gave the sled a nudge so that he skidded into the room. “Look who I’ve got, everypony!”
The sled whirled around in a dizzying circle, and he thought he recognized the other occupants of the room, even though he was spinning past them so quickly that he felt sick. All of them were mares, and he thought he knew most of them, but they were dressed so strangely that he wasn’t sure. The room was so warm, the interior so cozy and softly lit, and the familiar but unfamiliar faces so odd that for a moment he thought maybe he actually was freezing somewhere and having a hallucination. On the other hoof, he was defrosting so fast that water was pooling around him and his coat had begun to steam . . . and then Pinkie stopped the skidding with a firm hoof, and the jolt convinced him that no, wherever he was, he was actually there.
“We just got done with the pageant,” explained Pinkie, as she pulled the leather thongs off his hooves, “and lucky for you I got bored of waiting around for Dashie to finish using the mirror, and . . .”
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash shot back as she hovered upside down, near a softly glowing candelabra. “I decided I like the armor, ok? It’s a good look for me!”
“ . . . I decided to change later and then I knew you were here, so I went to get you, and here you are!” Pinkie finished as he carefully lifted his feet and stepped off the sled.
As Pinkie pushed the sled to the side of the room, he noticed that she was wearing a strange outfit with a large ruff, topped by an hat with a puffy crown like a chocolate drop. The hat, the armor, the shining crown Pinkie’s friend Rarity was still wearing as she lounged on a nearby sofa just under the hovering Rainbow Dash: all of it was ringing a bell.
“Some of us are a mite too attached to our costumes,” drawled Applejack, rolling her eyes. She was her ordinary self, with her ordinary friendly smile, and it was comforting to see her under these circumstances, where very little seemed normal at all. Applejack made everyplace as simple, homelike, and welcoming as she was, despite the opulent furnishings and luxurious rugs. “Good to see you, Cheese,” she added, tipping her hat, and then trotted off to fetch something.
“Some of us are very proud of our handiwork,” retorted Rarity, straightening her crown, “and I see nothing wrong with that.” She, at any rate, was very much at home surrounded by velvets and brocades, and required no adjustments at all.
“Um, I think Cheese looks kind of cold and wet, and maybe somepony should do something about it,” murmured Fluttershy as she drifted down from her spot near Rainbow Dash. “Sorry.”
Pinkie had already removed Cheese’s hat, and was reaching for Boneless 2. Rarity sat up abruptly. “Pinkie, darling, stop that!” she gasped. “You’ll get water damage on your costume! Remove it immediately. I shall take care of the situation.” She divested herself of her long purple velvet cape and lunged at Cheese, using her magic to pull at his wet garments and attempting to levitate them off.
“Fluttershy’s right,” said Princess Twilight, stepping forward from the shadows. “I’m sorry, Cheese.” She didn’t wait for permission, but began helping Rarity.
Most ponies didn’t wear clothes or wore them infrequently. Cheese was one of the few who wore them all the time. There was nothing weird about that, he told himself. Some ponies liked clothes, some didn’t: nothing weird about that at all. Nevertheless, having his saddle and serape plucked off in front of a lot of mares made him feel uncomfortably exposed. He felt even more uncomfortable when Rarity and Twilight levitated some towels towards him to scrub him dry, and took evasive action.
“Stop running around!” muttered Twilight.
Nope, he thought. He was exhausted, famished, cold, and low on magic, but if mares were going to start attacking him with towels, then by Cheddar, he could run all night if necessary. He dodged behind another sofa and ducked his head to avoid a jet of magic.
“Really, Mr. Sandwich,” Rarity scolded. “Stop engaging in this coltish behavior!”
“Yeah,” said Pinkie, shaking off her costume, “Cheesie’s kinda shy.”
“I am not!” he snapped, popping up from behind the sofa and wincing as the ice around his muzzle shattered.
“Yay! You can talk!” cheered Pinkie. “Because I would totally have done the talking for you if you couldn’t, but I think it’s better this way.”
“Allow me,” said the figure on the sofa Cheese had been hiding behind. A blanket roll came gliding through the air and unrolled itself over Cheese, so that he was completely covered, head and all. Now he couldn’t see anything, and he thought he heard a gentle chuckle. “I think what our guest needs is a spot by the fire and a chance to rest. Pinkie, if you would be so kind?”
Now he recognized the voice. He’d been hiding behind Princess Celestia, and she’d been the one who dropped the blanket over him. He was embarrassed and grateful at the same time. Pinkie came over, helped him to pull the blanket up over his head so he could see, and guided him towards the rug by the fire, where Applejack was stirring something in a kettle. He noticed that Pinkie didn’t take him too close, and knew she was worried about frostbite.
“I’m all right,” he said, showing her his hooves. “See?” She allowed him to get just a little closer and helped him to lie down. “Seriously, Pinkie, I’m fine.” The truth was that he’d begun to feel a little better as soon as he saw her. Right now, he needed his magic restored even more than food or sleep.
Pinkie shook her head. Clearly, she didn’t agree that he was fine, but she simply flopped down next to him, pressed her side against his, and flipped her tail over his back. He could feel pure happiness flowing from her as she leaned against him, and he smiled, closed his eyes, and sighed.
“Here ya go, Cheese,” said Applejack. He opened his eyes to see her shove a mug of steaming, fragrant brown cider towards him. “Just in time for a little of what’ll cure what ails ya.”
“Actually, you’re a little late,” corrected Rainbow Dash, swooping over and coming in for a flashy landing. “You missed my awesome performance in the pageant. Better than ever this year! Whoa,” she added, taking in Cheese’s thin face and forelegs. “You could stand to put a little weight on, dude. I’m pretty sure earth ponies don’t get any more aerodynamic no matter how much you lay off on the carbs.”
“We can fly if we want to, Dashie,” Pinkie pointed out. Cheese could feel her tail flicking irritably.
“Yeah,” argued Dash, “but not without a bunch of machines and assistive devices, and, ahh . . . y’know,” she said, noticing Pinkie’s expression, “I’m just gonna quit while I’m ahead.”
Cheese took a swig of the hot, spicy, sweet cider, and felt it slowly warming him from the inside. He looked down into the mug and noticed an orange rind, thickly studded with cloves. “You all keep saying I’m ‘just in time’ or ‘a little late.’ Just in time for what?”
“Hearth’s Warming Eve, silly!” exclaimed Pinkie.
He glanced around at Pinkie and her friends, most of whom were partway in and partway out of their costumes: Rainbow Dash, still in full armor as Commander Hurricane; Rarity, lounging again wearing Princess Platinum’s crown; and Pinkie’s puffy, brown-topped hat. He couldn’t have slept through that many school pageants. “Duh, of course,” he said, smacking his face with his hoof. “I still don’t get it, though. I know I’m supposed to throw a doozy of a party—it’s been like a 9.7 on the Roquefort Scale—but I still have no idea what it is.”
“Do you remember the event I asked if you would help plan this summer?” asked Princess Celestia. He started to turn to face her, but she rose from her sofa and walked towards him so that he didn’t have to get up or pull away from Pinkie. He wondered if she understood the transfer of magic really going on, and that Pinkie wasn’t just being friendly or . . . something like that. He could feel himself beginning to blush. Hopefully the princess would attribute that to the fire. “It was the anniversary of the founding of Equestria and the beginning of the reign of the two sisters.”
Yes, of course. How could I forget? Twilight Sparkle had offered him a permanent job at the court planning parties in Canterlot, close enough to Ponyville that he would be able to see Pinkie all the time. And I turned it down . . .
“Yes, I do,” he said instead, “but . . .”
“That’s what Hearth’s Warming really is,” Twilight Sparkle pointed out. “The peace between the Three Tribes and the founding of Equestria.” She trotted over to a pile of books she had heaped up on a table, selected one, and began flipping the pages.
Cheese gasped. “I’m late for my own party?” He wanted to pull the blanket up over his head in shame. That had never happened before.
Fluttershy glided over and alighted on his other side. “Oh, no,” she said. “You’re not late for Hearth’s Warming Eve. We always do the pageant, and we had this already planned. Oh, my. You do look hungry.”
“I’m on it,” said Applejack, making her way towards a sideboard crammed with dishes. “We got all seven desserts. Which do you want?”
“I’ll have a little of everything,” he said. His stomach growled. “Make that a lot of everything.”
“I meant the whole Hearth’s Warming season,” explained Princess Celestia, seating herself on a nearby chair. “From Hearth’s Warming to Alicorn Night. Although really,” she said, and frowned, “it ought to be Alicorns Night, with an s.”
“That it should,” a new voice agreed, and he swiveled his head around to see the eighth occupant of the room. Princess Luna sat, or rather sprawled, in a high-backed armchair, one hind leg hanging over an arm and her pet opossum Tiberius curled around her neck. She was surrounded by wrapping paper, crackers, and dessert plates. A foil crown was canted over her real one; tinsel was thickly twisted around her horn, which was topped with a festive red bulb.
Cheese didn’t really know what to make of Princess Luna. She was the princess who actually remembered having a permanent “amusing pony” on staff, and it was one reason he wasn’t really sorry about turning down the job. He had the impression that anypony who took on trying to keep Princess Luna amused would really be earning his hay. On the other hoof, Pinkie had sent him a copy of the Journal of The Two Sisters. He’d read it and even written a review of it. Based on that, and the tinsel, and the red bulb, it was just possible that under the intense, spooky exterior, Princess Luna might be sort of . . . fun.
“Huzzah!” Princess Luna added, levitating a large cookie up to her mouth, biting into it, and chewing, her cheeks bulging.
“Luna likes Hearth’s Warming Eve,” her elder sister said, with a fond smile. “She enjoys making the most of it.”
Princess Luna tried to say something through a spray of cookie crumbs, although the only discernable words were “moon” and “cookies.”
“Of course,” Princess Celestia went on, “it really ought to be Luna’s holiday—the shortest day and the longest night. But yes—we were hoping for your help during this Hearthstide.”
Well, that was different. He’d thrown Alicorn Night celebrations before—not for royalty, but a party was a party. How tough could it be? “So—Year’s Turn, Alicorn Night, fireworks, music—something like that?” And with Pinkie? Piece of cake. He lifted the cider mug for a long swig.
“Oh, no,” said Twilight Sparkle, and if he had been paying attention, he would have seen the scholar’s manic gleam in her eye. “All of the traditional holidays. A different royal festival every day!”
He missed a few details during the next cough-filled minutes.
“It’s a Royal Jubilee,” continued Twilight, “the . . .”
Cheese coughed up some cloves.
“—ieth anniversary of the reign of the two royal alicorn sisters, and you and Pinkie are going to help us plan a party—a traditional party—every single day. Starting with tomorrow—Hearth’s Warming Day.”
“But . . .”
“And don’t worry about what’s supposed to happen, because I’ve done lots of research,” she went on. “Lots and lots and LOTS of research.”
“Party research?” If Princess Twilight had begun researching party pony magic . . .
Pinkie twirled her tail around his and gave it a brief, reassuring squeeze. “Twilight’s reading books about parties,” she said. She didn’t add, “not books about party ponies,” but Cheese relaxed enough to feel hungry again.
“And I’ve found out all sorts of interesting things about the traditional celebrations, so I’ll be able to make sure you and Pinkie do everything correctly,” Twilight continued.
“And I will be assisting with historically apropos designs and attire,” added Rarity, “which will blend the classically elegant with the chic. Over a thousand years of couture!” she exclaimed in a tone that in a less sophisticated pony would be described as a squeal. “Think of the possibilities!”
Cheese wasn’t really thinking of anything now except for how good it felt to be warm, the sheer joy of having Pinkie leaning into his side, and how much he was looking forward to eating something. Applejack returned with a plate full of dessert.
“Seven desserts,” she said, sliding the plate in front of him, and he was very happy to see that she hadn’t bothered with a dessert plate but just shoveled lots of everything onto a big serving plate. “Although technically you’ve had one of ‘em already. The cider,” she added, in response to his confused frown. “The cloves, see?”
“Um,” said Cheese, who didn’t see, but who didn’t want to blow his credibility as a party expert, “sure. Although seven desserts always feels like a lot of dessert to me.”
“Well, it is,” admitted Rarity, “and I do have to keep a careful eye on my figure, but it is only for one evening, and the required variety is always so tempting!”
I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cheese thought, beginning to worry again. Hearth’s Warming Eve, Cheese, you know this one! C’mon!
“I just like the cookies,” said Dash, swooping in and scooping a few off the plate without asking. “I’m glad there’s gotta be cookies.”
“And this is where my research has uncovered some very interesting material,” said Twilight, looking up from her pile of books, “although maybe, as a party planner, you’ve already discovered this. The specific type of cookie has varied considerably over the centuries, from bar cookies to drop cookies to the lace-like, although many feel that this variant diverts too far from its original symbolic intent . . .”
I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about, Cheese thought as he ate ravenously, but maybe if she keeps talking she’ll drop a couple of obvious hints.
“Pudding!” Pinkie exclaimed.
He swallowed. “Hmm?”
“Pudding for Chancellor Puddinghead! Like my hat!” She leaned her head down so that the hat dropped off, and bit a big mouthful from the crown. “Fthee? Ifth’s good!”
He leaned over and took a bite too. Chocolate pudding. Thick, rich, heavenly, and . . . Chancellor Puddinghead! “Mm!” he said, meaning both, “Wow, this is delish!” and “Oh, I get it!” That’s what the seven desserts are for!
“And of course, the other selections have varied over the centuries too. The pudding is almost always chocolate now, but at an earlier period, it might have been plum pudding or . . .”
“So that’s why my clients always wanted seven desserts!” Cheese said, and then realized he’d said it out loud.
“Well, yes," said Rarity, with a slight frown, “but that’s what everypony does. Everypony in Equestria knows that.”
Was it his imagination, or did Princess Luna look annoyed? “It’s, um . . . not something I have to plan very frequently,” he hedged, which was true. Ponies rarely threw large public parties on Hearth’s Warming Eve. They might go to a pageant put on by the town or the school, and then they returned home for a quiet celebration with their families and a few friends. The trouble was . . . well, the trouble with that was . . .
“Yes, that first celebration was very small, wasn’t it?” Princess Celestia said smoothly, levitating a small plate over to the larger one and scooping up a small amount of one of the desserts. “Just three ponies making friends with each other, singing against the cold. I’m sure they would have been happy to have any of these treats! I don’t remember if we ever asked Smart Cookie, Private Pansy, or Clover the Clever what they would have wanted then, did we, Sister? Because of course, neither of us was there.”
The frown smoothed from Princess Luna’s face. “No, Celie, I don’t think we did. Princess Platinum would have enjoyed that cake, though,” she added. “Spices, edible gold—that was exactly the kind of thing she liked. I will never forget her face,” she went on, dreamily, “when she shot out into the courtyard on her—”
“ Edible gold and marzipan, as you know,” Twilight continued, as though her lecture hadn’t been interrupted, “usually being reserved for royal celebrations.”
“Shoot, I didn’t even know about that until Twilight here did all that research,” Applejack said, cutting into Twilight’s lecture. “Granny Smith sure didn’t put fancy gold on our cake. Plain old caramel apple spice cake with golden delicious apples—that was plenty good enough for us. Seven desserts is a lot, Cheese, but usually we baked the spice cake and the neighbors exchanged cookies with us for Smart Cookie and it all evened out just fine. Plus the cloves ain’t that hard. ‘Clove-r the Clever.’” She shook her head and chuckled. “Corny, but it still cracks me up. And looks like you just joined the clean plate club, so I’ll bring you another round.”
Okay, Cheese thought, I think I can fake this one. It’s got to be one dessert for each of the Three Tribes' leaders and their companions, or something to represent each of them—something like that, except that only makes six. But Hearth’s Warming Eve, one of the biggest holidays in Equestria, and I don’t have any idea how it works? What kind of party pony doesn’t know that? I’m a total fraud.
Pinkie nudged him, met his eye, and deliberately exhaled. He felt a wave of joy, and the anxiety ebbed away. “Try not to worry, Cheesie,” she said under her breath. “You were almost out of magic. All we do is try to make everypony smile. That’s all you have to do.”
“We will have some more pudding,” announced Princess Luna, “if anypony is up.”
“I’ll be delighted,” said Rarity, lifting a clean dessert plate and a spoon off the pile. “Which kind would you like?”
“Both—either—it matters not,” said Luna, waving a regal hoof, and Tiberius opened one eye and wound himself more tightly around her neck. “All of these modern innovations are equally unfamiliar to us.” Cheese saw Princess Celestia glance at her younger sister and raise an eyebrow. Tiberius licked Luna’s ear, and she added, “I like the eggy kind,” in a more normal tone.
“At least one of us thinks you have good taste, Luna,” the solar princess said. “You like the eggy kind best too, Fluttershy, isn’t that right?”
“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy breathed, fanning her wings and unconsciously rising from the floor. “I’m so glad you like it too, Princess,” she added, taking the plate from where Rarity was levitating it and gently landing next to Princess Luna, who smiled at her. “Eggs in the snow is my favorite.”
“Well, DUH, of course it’s your favorite,” snorted Rainbow Dash, “’cause it’s all fluffy and yellow and sweet like you. I mean, uh, yeah,” she said, clearing her throat and landing near the fireside with a clang of her armor. “The Pegasus desserts are pretty rad.”
“The use of meringue to signify the Pegasus tribes,” Twilight said, selecting another book and flipping the pages madly, “dates back over five hundred years . . .”
“All the air,” said Dash, “and couldja get me a plate of that stuff, too, AJ?” Applejack rolled her eyes and walked back to the dessert table. “’Cause it’s all whipped up like a badass dessert tornado.” She evidently decided she didn’t want to wait for a separate plate, leaned over, and grabbed a mouthful off Cheese’s plate. “Pluff if’s the whip cr’m,” she said, fluffy white stuff flying from both sides of her mouth.
“But the Windtorte is a later development,” Twilight went on, “and may not originally have been Equestrian at all.” She frowned. “That’s a hole in my research. Spike! Will you. . .? Oh, that’s right,” she corrected herself. “Spike is in bed.”
Finally a word that sounds familiar, Cheese thought with relief. I know that one, but where? Torte, torte, something-torte. Oh, yeah, Sachertorte. Grandpa Sachertorte. Nah, it’s gotta be a coincidence.
Twilight closed her book. “I’m very relieved to see you, Cheese,” she said, looking up at him instead of down into her notes. “We sent notes all over Equestria asking you to come, but all the messages came back that you’d been there just the day before and rushed out of town. But Pinkie said you’d know and be here anyway, and she usually knows about these things.” She pushed herself away from the table she’d been sitting behind and came up to the group by the fire. Now she wasn’t acting like Professor Twilight or Princess Just Twilight, but really just Twilight, a concerned friend. “Still,” she said, “I’m glad you didn’t need to work your first day here. I can see you need the rest, and honestly, I was a bit worried.” She turned and went to sit next to Princess Celestia.
“I was worried, too, Cheesie,” Pinkie said quietly, so only he could hear her. “I didn’t know where you were and it was spooky. I wish you’d come back sooner.”
“So do I,” he replied, “but I couldn’t, and I don’t know why. Still,” he said, and yawned, “toldja I’ll always come back.”
“The hard work starts tomorrow, with all the official ceremonies,” said Twilight. “Luckily tonight is just family and friends, and the Hearth’s Warming traditions everypony knows.”
Yeah, thought Cheese, and snorted. Everypony knows those good ol’ family traditions but me. And I’m sure not going to tell them about our family tradition: just sitting around and maybe going out for Quirinese food if my father was in a good mood, which of course he almost never was.
He yawned. Yeah, maybe I’m a total fraud, he thought sleepily, his eyes closing, and tomorrow I’ll be exposed as the party pony who didn’t know anything about Hearth’s Warming, but right now I’m next to the hearth, and I’m warm and lying next to Pinkie, and that’s about all the Hearth’s Warming I need.
“More than a thousand years of tradition,” Luna broke in, and the edge in her voice made Cheese’s eyes flicker open. “Mercifully we have your research, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Otherwise some of us wouldn’t know anything about it.”
“Family and friends,” Princess Celestia said, “is all anypony needs to know. But let’s teach them some of the old Hearth’s Warming songs, Luna. Remember ‘Midwinter’s Light?’ It was your favorite. And you and I are the only ones who know it anymore.” She hummed.
Midwinter’s light,
Moon gleaming bright,
Snow shining silver
This long, lovely night . . .
After a moment, Luna’s voice joined her sister’s in duet. Cheese wanted to listen to it, he really did, but . . .
All we do is try to make everypony smile . . .
Family and friends is all anypony needs to know . . .
“Here’s the sugar star,” whispered Pinkie. “For Starswirl. Twilight says you’re supposed to wish on it. Cheesie?”
When he woke up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t remember who’d carried him and put him to bed, but he thought he knew who’d made sure to tuck Boneless 2 between his hooves.
Well, I am back with regular CheesePie, and with a winter holiday one at that, much to my surprise. I usually don’t think to write anything like this until the holidays are over. But in Say Goodnight, Pinkie, Princess Celestia asked Cheese to help celebrate the founding of Equestria and the anniversary of the coronation of the Two Royal Sisters. I was trying to figure out when that would be, and realized, duh, that’s what Hearth’s Warming is, and that I’d also invented a Twelfth Night equivalent—Alicorn Night—in Babs and the Hearth’s Warming Gift.
Twilight has an ambitious schedule. Let’s hope nopony gets killed in the process.
Cheese’s review of The Journal of the Two Sisters is here.
Lots of people have different winter holiday traditions. One is serving seven different fish dishes on Christmas Eve, but dessert is more Pony, I thought. It took a while to come up with the seven desserts:
Clover the Clever: anything with cloves in it
Smart Cookie: Cookies, obviously
Chancellor Puddinghead: A thick pudding of some kind—plum or chocolate. You’ve got to love those earth ponies. They’re nice and direct, and make my job easier.
Princess Platinum: Richness is the key here, which is why her dessert is usually a spice cake. Spices were once much more expensive than they are. Gold leaf and marzipan would be out of the question for most ordinary Equestrian families, as Applejack points out. It was hard to find a gold leaf cake that wasn’t a wedding cake, but here: 
Source
Both Pegasi have desserts with egg white for lightness and airiness.
Private Pansy: Floating Island, or oeufs a la neige, is a sweet yellow egg custard with delicate sweet egg white mounds like clouds on top: perfect for Fluttershy.
Source.
A recipe
Commander Hurricane: Who knew he’d be represented by such a fussy dessert? Spanish Windtorte is a fancy meringue shell filled with whipped cream, fruit, and chocolate shavings, so it’s got both whipped cream and whipped egg white. Cheese is right to make a connection with –torte. Both Spanish Windtorte and Sachertorte are Eastern European—Viennese, in fact.
Here’s a picture, from the cover of The Cooking of Vienna’s Empire:
And here’s what it is.
This is a Sachertorte. It’s a dark chocolate cake with apricot preserves. (It’s also the name of Cheese and Pinkie’s colt in a different set of stories.)
Six would have felt unbalanced, so the seventh dessert is a decorative star of spun or pulled sugar, representing Star Swirl the Bearded.
That’s plenty of sugar, don’t you think? In all senses of the term.
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Oh...this is gooooood!
This is so AWESOME!!!
Can't wait for more!
Help! I'm craving sweets now!
But anyway, you've come up with some neat desserts for Hearth's Warming Eve. Although I'm personally not for fancy stuff, so I'd personally be munching on cookies and slurping up pudding if I was a pony.
All my love! Can't wait for moar!
Ah, embarrateful, a familiar feeling.
Perhaps it was, once, but a thousand years of tradition kind of piled up without her, and she doesn't seem to mind.
At first, I was incredibly concerned about Cheese not knowing anything about Hearth's Warming. I thought it was a sign of a near-death experience. Turns out it was just a rather ironic gap in his life experience. Granted, there's no "just" about it to Cheese, but hopefully he'll be able to learn on the job... provided he doesn't get consumed by his own self-doubt and impostor syndrome, and assuming his Cheesy Sense doesn't kill him first.
Looking forward to more, especially as you ponify more holiday traditions.
Gah! I love it so much!!! I think I was smiling the whole time I was reading this. Really amazing characterization as always, and I love your headcannon with the party pony magic. Can't wait to read more.
Yes! and I love the cover art pinkie and cheese look really pretty XD
I am really glad that you are continuing this story arc. I like the depth you are providing to the Equestrian holiday customs. Now, just as long as Nightmare Moon doesn't try to hijack Heartwarming in the delusion that she could run it better ("I bet I could improve it too!") everything should be fine.
¡This story is great!
5272172
Pardon me jordon but could you describe what a story arc is? is it like an on going plotline? ugh i am sounding old forgive me i just get confused with writer lingo since i just write for me and don't do it professionally. what i mean to ask is since its an arc do i need to read the other two stories?
5272318 Yeah, in this case, it's an ongoing plotline. (I need to update my userpage. Oops!) I try to write the stories so that if a person starts with the new one, they won't be hopelessly lost, but it helps to have read Goodbye Boneless, Good Morning, Beautiful, and Say Goodnight Pinkie before reading this. But I think you've read those already.
A "story arc" is something like this: when you're reading a comic book, or watching a television series, sometimes there will be a new plotline--and that's a story arc.
In this case, there's an overall developing story about Pinkie and Cheese, playing out over a group of individual stories. There isn't one central plot--each story has its own plot--but the development of their relationship is kind of spread out over the whole thing.
5272354
Ah okay that makes perfect sense. Yeah i did read those i think i've read everything on your page :D. I am running out of cheesepie here but thanks for explaining i feel kinda foolish now not understanding it XD. I am still learning we don't stop learning after all.
5272318
A story arc is a plotline that continues across several stories. It's very important in any series writing where an important plot development continues from one story to the next but is intended to eventually be resolved. In Scoots2's stories, the romantic relationship between Cheese Sandwich and Pinkie Pie is one story arc, which has been continuing through all the Cheese and Pinkie stories, and is the main theme of those works. This may or may not conclude with some resolution.
Story arcs can be segmented into sub-arcs. For instance, one sub-arc of the Cheesepie stories has already involved them admitting to each other that their relationship is romantic. Another sub-arc could be concerned with the question of whether or not they will marry. Another one could be devoted to the issue of foals (she's already written three stories about that, with alternate outcomes).
Also, elements of multiple story arcs can combine in a single story. For instance, my "Flutterarc" (currently consisting of three stories Dragonshyness, A Robust Solution and Fluttershy Is Free, all set in Season 1) is basically about Fluttershy's rise to greater self-confidence as she masters her abilties, heals from the emotional abuse to which she was subjected in youth, and comes to appreciate her own worth. Each of the three stories advances this story arc by depicting a stage in Fluttershy's growth and healing. In Dragonshyness, she faces her worst fear and discovers that her love gives her the courage to use her psychic powers to overcome it. In A Robust Solution, she confronts one of the most painful episodes from her past and learns from Rarity and from her own knowledge of animal behavior that it does not prove her unlovable. And in Fluttershy Is Free she has a special outing with Rainbow Dash (in consequence of the events of Dragonshyness), tries to tell her the truth about her parentage (she's half-Changeling), fails, but realizes that she still has Dashie's love and friendship anyway, and that she is fundamentally her own Pony, no matter who was her sire.
These stories all cross with other story arcs. In Dragonshyness, there are strong elements of Twilight's Ascension (Twilight faces her first "normal" dangerous mission for Princess Celestia, in which she must deal with a possibly-hostile Dragon, rather than a mad god or super-equine sorceror) and Rainbow's Heroism (Rainbow fights the Dragon); we also see part of Rarity's Rise (in which she fails a test). Likewise, Scoots2's CheesePie stories have included three in which the focus is on Cheese Sandwich adventuring with Braeburn, in which they meet Cherries Jubilee, Trenderhoof and Flash Sentry; there is frequent reference in there to Cheese's feelings for Pinkie.
Finally, even long story arcs can be part of or bundled into super-arcs, overarching stories. The super-super-arc of everything I've written for this fandom could be termed "The Destiny of Ponykind," which is about how the Ponies surmount one obstacle and defeat one enemy after another to expand across the Multiverse, becoming one of the primary defenders of our Cosmos. This is such a high-level arc that few stories can touch on this directly and at length, Twelfth Equestriad Interview is one of the only ones which does so explicitly; though Princess Luna alludes to this in Divine Jealousy and the Voice of Reason. A sub-arc of this is my main series, "The Shadow Wars," which is about how the Ponies fight and ultimately defeat the Night Shadows. All the other story arcs are either sub-arcs of The Shadow Wars or side stories to the saga.
Thus it can be seen that story arcs can be divided, joined, and can cross each other in the same stories. The "story arc" is a very important concept if one writes a series.
5272414
Oh I see now that's pretty cool. Thanks for explaining I just dont hear that term used much so yeah.
Sounds to me as if he's actually dying, possibly maintained by his powers past the point at which a normal Pony would have at least collapsed. This shows a dark side to their abilities -- I am planning to do something similar in a totally different context, with reference to Pinkie herself. I like the drizzle of his items from wherever he keeps them as a symptom of this.
It's very appropriate that Pinkie herself winds up saving him.
Similar effect to the overclocked Pinkie I described in "Royal Business" -- he's been burning himself up to power his magic.
I like your characterization of Cheerful Luna. I know I've shown her in really dark and depressed moods in some of my stories, but she's quite capable of making merry, now that she no longer feels as lost as she once did. She can be as much of a Large Ham for comedic as for tragic effect.
Nice avoidance of chronological controversies there!
LOL!!! Because Rainbow Dash has absolutely no mushy feelings. Or at least, will not admit to them before an audience.
Awww ...
Hehehe I'm so excited! This is gonna be good!
I've become rather excited about this! Continue~!
The part at the beginning was a little scary, it makes you think the day may come when Cheese would ask Pinkie to take back the gift, it certainly seems like a curse at this moment. This is definitely an an interesting start to an intriguing story.
How come they don't eat a dessert with Clover honey for Clover the Clever?
5271440 Thank you!
5271465 Thanks! I'm frighteningly far behind on some things, but I'm sort of writing the next couple of chapters in my head, too.
5271503 Floating Island is fairly simple, actually. It's just a light vanilla custard with some soft meringue on it. Not that much different than lemon meringue without the lemon and without the pie crust. I've had all of these except for the Spanish Windtorte, and I'm not a huge fan of hard meringue, so I probably wouldn't like it. But Chancellor Puddinghead Chocolate Pudding would probably be my favorite, too. I imagine it as not like chocolate mousse, either--just unashamed, basic PUDDING.
5271510 Thanks! It'll probably be longer than I want it to, either.
5271654 Thanks! Party Pony Magic is my favorite. It's what keeps me writing these two.
5271713 Dragonfoxgirl draws beautiful, magical looking CheesePie.
5272308 Thank you!
5272172 Well. . .
[more later.]
This sounds like it should be an interesting ride. I'm looking forward to seeing how it goes.
5272466 Cheese has nearly died from too much strain on his magic before. In fact, sometimes his magic takes over and runs him. The items falling out and his not being able to put them away goes back to Swear on Camembert, although there he was in such bad shape that he actually had to get hold of a cart. On the other hand, then he was traveling in mild weather, and he wasn't hungry.
Funny you should mention that . . .
I am a cheater-y McCheaterpants.
Yeah, this episode, for me, shows off some of the interesting Rainbow Dash/Fluttershy dynamic, with Dash as Ultra-Pegasus and Fluttershy as Terribly-Atypical Pegasus. You can see it as both a common bond and a source of conflict. It's also interesting to see which of the three leaders vs. their assistants wind up in charge: Smart Cookie winds up following Chancellor Puddinghead around in circles, and Princess Platinum actually rides Clover the Clever, but Commander Hurricane has to fly with Private Pansy weighing him/her down the whole way.
And yes. D'aw. Kind of a nice thing for someone coming in from the cold--sitting around in a warm room with women talking to each other and not necessarily paying attention to him, but just being able to relax.
5273281 Thank you!
5274701 Thanks! I have a nice outline for the next couple of chapters. Of course it has gotten longer as it went on.
5278934 Well, honestly--I liked the pun, and also mulled wine or cider with cloves in it is a distinctly winter drink, whereas clover honey doesn't have much of a distinct taste. It's why most of the honey you see is clover honey.
I think with Party Pony Magic, there are no backsies.
5298884 Of course there are no backsies, that's what is so scary about it.
5298884
Why do I feel as if I totally missed an important clue and, in fact, Luna's going to go totally nuts in this story?
I wanted to at least try to make all of those desserts. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw the floating islands. I've made them! (Not very well, but oh well) I used the recipe from sorted, so the custard was lemony (nom-my favourite part) but the meringue was too eggy and I didn't like it. Hardest part- whipping the eggs into stiff peaks. And I think I did pretty well for my first attempt at caramel. The first pan became a crusty white thing at the side. We abandoned it. The second pan was perfect! (It was super fun to lick the spoon clean!)
Oops, I rambled. Again.
I've always thought that one of these days I'd have a mlp themed Christmas, and now I'm adding these desserts to the list.
And as always, you give me diabeetus. Just sitting by the fire together is too cute.
Sometimes I just want Twilight to shut up. Especially when Luna is speaking.
Hopefully Cheese gets the fact that he doesn't know anything about Hearth's Warming off of his chest soon; nothing good ever comes from trying to hide something like that.
Also, you do chaotic group scenarios where everypony is talking over each other and noise and fuss and bother remarkably well.