The Gift of Giving

by Comma Typer

Time for Some Dinner

Thum! and a plate of blueberry pie was laid on the table.

The dining room was a cozy place to be. At the center was a small table fit for four and no one more. The now familiar smell of fresh mint usually filled the air here as well, but since it’s dinner time, it was replaced by the sugary aroma of pastries, baked goods, and more diverse foods on the surface: there, for instance, was a steaming hot bowl of pumpkin soup along with muffins drizzled in chocolate sauce and chocolate powder; there, too, rested strawberry tarts and custard pudding. Among them blended the mesmerizing fragrances of coffee, mocha, cocoa, and eggnog—blended and combined to produce a tantalizing, almost dizzying smorgasbord of a culinary perfume too strong for the yak’s nose to inhale all at once.

Notwithstanding that olfactory danger, Yitterby licked his lips at the sight of the grand meal set before him. He clasped his forehooves on the table, his mouth ready to dig into a delectable buffet of culinary experiences for his taste buds.

“Now, settle down there!” Aurora reproached, sitting to his left and raising a hoof at him—she now had that condescending tone of a grandmother giving her grandchildren a hard time over dining etiquette. “Yak manners may be different from ours, but that’s no excuse to cause a mess on the table, especially after what happened after your last birthday back home.”

Yitterby blushed at the thought of that birthday: past all the debris of destroyed logs and branches, he remembered opening his mouth too wide, taking a bite off of his plate and his table alongside his birthday vanilla cake. He’d also eaten the candle which had been still aflame: that was no pleasant memory.

But, Yitterby turned his blushing into an audible groan. His frown becoming a scowl, “Yak not getting more comfortable by old reindeer.”

Then, Alice scrambled in from the adjacent kitchen, hooves skidding before turning into a normal gallop as she levitated a tray of roasted candy canes; they were even charred at the tips.

“Here you go, Yitterby!” she said as she put the batch down on the table, the bright blue glow on it fading away. “A batch of Bori’s Candy Cane Surprise! I know you’ll love it.”

Yitterby now crossed his forehooves, spooked by the mere suggestion that Alice really knew ahead of time that he would love the candy canes. “Alright. Yak not getting more comfortable by small reindeer.”

Alice countered this by taking a few steps closer to him, trying to butter up to him by making puppy eyes on her face. “Come on! Loosen up! It’s just an educated guess!” having said a lie through that big smile and that adorable face.

A loud sigh exhaled from the kitchen as Bori came trotting into the dining room, mixing in some cake batter with her bowl. Looking at Aurora and Alice, she said in a kind yet stern tone, “Cut it out, you two! This is no time to show off He hasn’t all day.”

Yitterby smiled, knowing safety and order had arrived thanks to the appearance of that timely chef. “Yak agree with pink reindeer,” then, tilting his own head a bit, making sure his horn wouldn’t poke the table, “but, yak have all day to learn.”

Aurora and Bori raised their heads back together in surprise. Alice, however, winked at him, secretly telling him that she knew he was going to say that, though Yitterby adamantly ignored the gesture.

“Huh?” Bori asked, floating the mixing bowl back in the kitchen. “You… have?”

The yak nodded. He extended a hoof out to prepare his response: “Reindeer know yak journeyed out to find best gift ever and how to best give best gifts ever… ever.” Scratched his chin on that one. Still, he cracked his neck and continued: “Now yak here with gift givers of Grove. Yak now can rest and know best gift and best gift’s ways from gift giver reindeer.”

That prompted the three of them to exchange concerned glances with each other. Alice nodded to the two others with a slick smile, but Bori glared at her and Alice put up a smile that said OK! OK! I’ll keep quiet for now, but I know the outcome of this one!

Bori sighed once more, sitting down at the table and setting her utensils just right before facing the yak seated across. “I know you have this important responsibility for your fellow yaks. That’s good and all... but you must be starving after all you’ve been through in the cold!”

Yitterby stammered, turning his head left and right as his priorities began to crumble before managing, “B-But, what about best gift—”

Bori slowly raised a hoof, telling him to be quiet that way. “I know you want to figure about the best gift ever and how you and every yak would give their gifts well. You and your prince want to liven up your holidays, and that’s nice… but, now,” placing a hoof on the wooden surface, “you’re hungry, and I don’t want to see you hurt yourself like that.”

Instead of accepting this nugget of wisdom, the yak pouted and rested his pouting head on the table. “Pink reindeer now sound like Mom.”

Bori chuckled along with Aurora, their own motherly instincts showing in their posh and restrained laughter. Alice, meanwhile, was already saying “Mm-mm!” at the food without having tasted it yet; perhaps she already knew what it tastes like.

“Anyway,” Bori continued, glancing at Alice and putting her in her place, “it wouldn’t do well to keep yourself hungry, so let’s eat. We can talk about it later when, say,” now glancing at the kitchen, “we’re serving dessert. That OK with you?”

Yitterby nodded, although he was still a bit flustered that his all-important quest was being sidetracked by dinner—delicious dinner, but dinner nonetheless. However, his stomach rumbled some more, and he could do nothing but agree with the pained cries of his ravening tummy.

So, they ate.

It was all quite yummy, though he had to begrudgingly tolerate Aurora’s insistence on using a napkin to wipe his mouth instead of his own leg wrapped in cloth—it was like a built-in hankerchief that way. Despite his discomfort, he had to get over it: these were, in his mind, the chosen ones that Prince Roent had unknowingly sent him to, and it’d be a disservice to not accommodate their whims and fancies if the long-sought-for gift would be obtained that way.

Although he caught Alice wiping her mouth on the bow wrapped around her neck.

The drinks were top-notch, too. He’d drunk coffee before and this brew’s nothing special, but mocha and cocoa were quite novel to his palate. Coffee mixed with chocolate? A chocolate drink? These out-there concepts of a beverage made his head spin at first, until he actually tried them out. And then, there was that sweet, sweet eggnog....

Nevertheless, Yitterby didn’t spend the whole time just eating and drinking.

Aurora had the discipline to restrain herself from spouting out more tidbits of his own life, and Alice kept mum about what he would do in the future, but they kept up a lively conversation with the yak anyway.

Aurora didn’t do much about asking. Just listening to Yitterby’s stories about Yakyakistan life was fine for the elderly reindeer even though she probably knew of all of them. As for Alice, she was all ears, even perking her two ears up, before asking question after question about what Yakyakistan’s like now and then, doing her best not to chuckle as she knew the answers beforehoof anyway.

Bori, however, was the most talkative and the most chatty out of the four at the table. Often holding a cup to warm her forehooves with, she felt free to talk her mind openly: She asked the yak about how her food fared, and the yak replied it was all good, bringing a touch of joy in her heart. She then commented on the inclement weather, expressing the hope that a pegasus would come over; with how far off they were from civilization, she felt doubtful about that prospect. Then, Bori asked Alice if she perhaps put too much sugar into the cocoa, and Alice shook her head—there’s no such a thing as too much sugar, she asserted, much to everyone else’s laughter and to Bori’s relief.

Before the yak knew it, the massive main course was done and gone, and now there was dessert to be had despite the unhealthy amount of sugar and sweets they’d already consumed. Bori went to the kitchen and took out a tray of various chocolates and candies, all with varying measures of mint. Apparently, it was her favorite: the cool and tingling sensation flowing through one’s mouth and nose even in the cold of winter.

Everyone chowed down for dessert, the yak enjoying himself with the array of sweets and more sweets at hoof: mint fudge, mint jawbreakers, mint peanut brittle, mint chocolate, mint caramels, mint mints…. Everything had wound down to lethargic eating as the diners took their time to digest delectable desserts. Alice shone through here, happily chomping down candy after candy and baring her dirty teeth. Bori then gave her a look which Alice understood to be related to brushing teeth.

Then, while Yitterby was chewing on mint licorice, his eyes opened wide. Something hit him mentally, and he suddenly stopped moving his mouth, letting the string of sugar hanging from his lips.

This garnered a couple giggles from all three reindeer.

“Hm?” as Bori raised her brows in curiosity. “Is there something wrong with the licorice?”

“I get it if it’s not your taste,” Alice said, pumping her chest and her bow, closing her eyes as if she owned the place. “I got it from the future. It wouldn’t be invented until about three hundred years later… but, Bori broke her rule of not cooking future food because it sounded too good.”

That’s when Bori caught herself licking her lips at the sight of licorice on the table. Blushing, she turned back to Yitterby, keeping that same concerned and curious smile. “Well, what’s wrong there? Too salty?”

The yak shook his head, and gulped the sweet thing down his throat. Even if it was vomit-inducing, he felt the need to accept all the food they’d given him—the chosen ones and all that, maybe.

Yitterby then raised his hooves, saying “No... yak…” coughed, cleared his throat, rubbed his throat, even put the half-eaten licorice on his throat and rubbed his throat with it because the mint soothed him and perhaps he thought he could transfer that soothing feeling to his throat, so he could just speak—

It took a lot of their strength for the reindeer to not say Yuck! at that.

Yitterby didn’t care. He threw the half-done licorice at the garbage bucket, cleared his throat with a resounding Ahem!, and then, looking at them all, in a voice neither too loud nor too quiet:

“Best gift.”

Silence.

A chilly silence as the words echoed in their minds. The lanterns illuminated the room in a yellow glow, making the plates shine and their eyes reflect, but this did nothing to mitigate the silence’s chill.

Aurora and Alice looked to Bori, silently asking what she’s going to do.

Drawing in breath in one long gulp for air, Bori locked eyes with his and loosened her stiff head. “Oh. Is that so?”

The yak nodded, maintaining that firm rigidity that must’ve been taught to him in his homeland. “Yak apologize for ruining dinner, but yak need best gift and how give gifts best.”

“Oh, no, no, no! You didn’t ruin dinner!” Bori blurted out as if to backtrack what he’d just said, flailing her forehooves in the air. Calming down and sitting upright once more, “I w-was hoping you’d enjoy it all… and you did,” motioning a hoof towards the yak’s empty stained plate, “which is good. That’s very good.”

“But, of course,” Aurora said, fixing the glasses on the bridge of her snout, “we must grant you your request. You did come here after so many trials that not many would be willing to endure just for a gift.”

“And don’t forget to ask away!” Alice added, hopping on her chair in glee. “No matter how you swing it, it’s going to end—” and covered her mouth, blushing once again. “Oops! I can’t just give you how it ends, right?”

Yitterby made a short and soft bout of laughter, his tight lips melting a bit into a smile. “Very weird if yak know all yak say and all reindeer say before saying begins.”

Alice nodded, blushing more fiercely now, wishing the embarrassment would go away already.

Bori then placed her forehooves on the table, leaving her mint fudge cool. Focused on the yak’s eyes again, realizing that he’d parted his bangs so they’d be visible. In those eyes, Bori felt she could sense that responsibility on that one single yak. Being chosen to go on a quest for his own nation was an awfully heavy burden in any case. She really didn’t want to mess this up.

“OK,” Bori began, doing her best to keep her eyes focused, but they were already looking here and there for inspiration. “Let’s take this one step at a time. We don’t want to waste your time here since your fellow yaks are waiting for you.” Glanced to the side first, and then: “Do you feel the whole weight of Yakyakistan on your shoulders? Because I think you do, and we want to get this out of the way. So,” mellowing it out with a smile, “what exactly do you want?”

The question repeated in his head. The yak scratched said head, his very hairy head, as he let his bangs fall back and cover his eyes again.

In no-nonsense fashion, he told them, “Yak want best gift ever.”

The three reindeer exchanged glances with each other again, anxious and not knowing what to do as the winter’s freeze seeped into the room. Maybe Alice knew, but she at least made the same concerned face as the other two. Didn’t want to give it away and let Yitterby just ask her, to end it there and then.

Bori faked a cough, made the yak look straight at her. Keeping her forehooves clasped, glancing down at her stained apron, she then said, “So… uh, is that all? You did mention something about the best way to give gifts, no?”

Yitterby couldn’t believe it. Here were two reindeer who could see into opposite directions of time and glean its secrets, both held together by who’s supposedly the leader of the trio of majestic and enigmatic gift givers living in the middle of nowhere, and nowhere was tucked behind uncontrollable snowstorms and a teetering path of tiring length.

And the leader was acting quite chill about it.

It was enough for his mouth to yawn open, scratching the tip of his chin as he racked his brain, dumbfounded by this casualness. “Um… yak thought yak need to perform things for gift giver reindeer.” In his own anxiety, he tapped on the table with his hoof. “Like… um, test of patience… or test of goodwill.”

Bori rocked her head back, almost hitting her chair’s headrest. Needless to say, she was amused by the yak’s suggestion of giving out tests of character: “Well, uh, we’re… we’re not like that. We don’t want you to do things for us to get the best gift ever. We’re… um, gift givers, and gifts are free.”

The yak raised his head, incredulity written all over his face as his mouth still yawned open in disbelief. “Not even chores and washing dishes?” he further asked.

Bori rolled her eyes, giggling, and so did Alice. “If you’re really insistent on it,” Bori went on, “then you could help me wash the dishes before you go.” Upon finishing her words, she pointed at the kitchen where the ingredients of the cake still laid on the counter.

The yak nodded fast, saying, “Yes! Yak wash dishes!” Perhaps he said it with too much enthusiasm.

Aurora chuckled at that, leaning back on her chair and tugging at her old scarf. Scrutinizing Yitterby’s features: “Hmm. You’re quite different from the average yak. I wouldn’t think it’d be easy to get a yak to wash our dishes.”

Yitterby shook his head and raised his dirty plate to show he was serious about his upcoming engagement with the kitchen sink... and also to make a point. “Yak not too different from other yaks. Yak do anything to fulfill yak duty to other yaks because that yak’s job. Yitterby only doing yak’s job.”

Bori mulled those words over, brows knitting and furrowing as she looked upon her own plate for ideas. Then, it struck her.

She looked at him once more. With a more relaxed pose, “So, you’d be willing to fulfill your duty, bring home a really great gift, and teach others how to give gifts best,” and leaned forward on the table. “Wouldn’t that be your best gift ever to your fellow yaks?”

It took a while for Yitterby to get that.

When he did, he let out a wild and deep gasp, his mouth widening and cheeks stretching at that revelation. After recomposing himself, brushing his shoulders off though no dust was on them, he babbled, “Reindeer already helping lots!” and nodded more wildly, as if nodding faster would give him more points with them.

Alice nodded, too, and hopped on her chair accordingly, imitating the yak’s fast nods barely seconds ago. “Glad we can and will help!”

Thus, Yitterby helped himself to more smiles and more nodding, glad that everything was rolling around and that he’d get what he’d come here for at the cost of washing some dishes.

But, a thought cut short his internal celebration, cutting it so short and abrupt that his smiles snapped back into worrisome frowns.

Before any of the reindeer could say anything about it, Yitterby said, “But... perhaps... yaks deserve more than gift.”

Bori felt the gaze of Alice and Aurora upon her once again. She blinked twice, trying to get her mind ready. “Like how, sometimes, the best gifts aren’t things at all?”

Yitterby cocked his head and raised his hoof at that. “Ah! Gift wisdom! Yak not understand yet, but yak willing to listen to learn!”

Knowing this conversation would go a long way before finishing, she pushed her plate aside. “Well, I want to hear from you first. What do you think the yaks back in Yakyakistan deserve other than a surprise gift, a better way of giving, and… well, returning to your friends and family, Yitterby?”

The yak scrunched up his face, showing them that he was giving this question a lot of thought. Lots of it. Brows brought together like a tightly wound chain of hair, even a bead of sweat rolling down his face against the icy atmosphere.

Then, an answer having arrived, he lifted his head and declared in a low voice: “Legends.”

“...legends?” Bori muttered quickly, just loud enough for the yak to catch the word.

“Yak not explain self much,” he said, before putting a hoof to his cheek and downing the cup of coffee he’d allowed to go cold. Effecting a storytelling voice (a rough yet formal tone it had): “Prince Roent saw pony holiday called Hearth’s Warming. Pony holiday much like yak holiday: ponies give gifts and have fun. But, unlike yak holiday, ponies tell many stories. Stories of chimneys, of sleighs, of fat bearded pony giving gifts when ponies in bed. Little colts and fillies excited by stories! More excited than yaks who smile but not smile lots.”

Bori then tilted her head, noticing Aurora’s and Alice’s anxious expressions aimed at her, as if they were bottling up something inside. Turning back to the yak once more: “So… you want us to make a story for you? Is that what you want?”

The yak adamantly shook his head, his thick head hair flowing and flapping before settling down. “No. Reindeer give yak gift, and reindeer give gifts to more than yaks.” Placing a solid hoof on the table, as an air of yak earnestness came up, “What yak want is not only gift and how now. Yak want real story… from real reindeer.”

And placed the other hoof firmly on the table, surrounding his dirty plate as the ensuing silence fell upon everyone.

Bori stared at the yak with an uneasy stare, one of uncertainty. To correct that, she glanced at Alice, secretly berating herself for taking the easy way out by consulting their neighborly oracle.

Alice didn’t need to hear Bori say anything. She just nodded.

That was all Bori needed.

She looked at the yak again, eyes growing placid. “I was going to do this anyway without Alice telling me...” and then closed her eyes. She breathed in, and—

“I will be the one tell it,” Aurora said, raising her hoof and pulling her chair closer to the table. “I’m the one with all the powers of the past and what have you, so I oughta’ tell it.”

Bori snorted sadly at that, somewhat shocked at the sudden outburst. “But, Aurora—”

“You got a cake to bake, Bori,” Aurora told her, waving her off with an uncaring foreleg. “I’ll handle this one… for a while at least.”

That brought Bori back to looking at her plate again. A few seconds had to elapse before she spoke up again: “OK. Thank you, Aurora.”

The old reindeer smiled, her craggy and wrinkled face giving it a heartfelt quality.

“Alice?” Bori said, looking at the reindeer in question. “Please help me with the cake. Yitterby’s going to need some privacy for this.” Averting her gaze, “All—”

“‘—of us, actually,” Alice finished before receiving a little glare from Bori.

Then, Bori having forgiven the offense, the two took off to the kitchen, disappearing behind the walls.

The door to it closed in a pink glow.

Yitterby raised an unseen eyebrow and immediately cast a glance upon Aurora. “What that about?”

Aurora replied with a blank stare at the mess of a table, most of the plates and glasses now empty and dirty and in need of washing.

At that lonely table, they could hear the shuffling of hoofsteps, of clinks and clanks from the kitchen—the sounds of Bori and Alice making their cake. Alice would say something, and then Bori would say another thing back. There was a kindness to it, but Yitterby could feel that it was forced.

“It’s… great,” Aurora began, the frailty of her voice becoming apparent to him now and capturing his attention. “It is great... a great relief that—” shook her head and put her hoof on her cheek like she’d disapproved of what she’d just said. “But, first... will you be willing to listen to anything we’ll say?”

The yak bowed his head down in respect, although not low enough to smack his face with the plate. “Yak willing to get story to give fellow yaks good day.”

Aurora got out another chuckle, this one shorter and carefree. With her hindlegs, she pulled her chair and herself some inches away from the table, then turned it around so she could face Yitterby without turning her head around.

She gave her head a little exercise regiment: a turn’s crack here, a turn’s crack there, and it was over. After that, she fixed her glasses once more, putting them back to the bottom of her snout’s bridge. Looked up at her mature antlers, checking if there was anything stuck on them.

Delighted that she was ready to tell the tale, Aurora started: “Well, I know about Hearth’s Warming. That’s where we got the inspiration for those gifts down below... but do you, perhaps, know why the stories got to your prince?”

It was Yitterby now who leaned forward, moving her chair as well to get a better hearing. “Why?”

“Because,” and here, her smile broke out into a stirring grin, “they help make Hearth’s Warming a bit more magical. That ‘fat bearded pony’ you mentioned? Saddle Clumps or Kimble Kringle?” Brought her knee to the table, pushing her plate to the side so that there’d be nothing between her and the yak. “Every pony but the youngest know they aren’t real... but they keep it up anyway. No one would be able to go across all Equestria and drop gifts to every foal, knowing they’d be the perfect fit for them... but, that myth, that legend, lives on and gives the holiday some of its charm.”

Yitterby nodded, hoof on his chin to appear that he was listening. He was. “So… reindeer willing to tell real story? Yak not want to give false report to yaks.”

“You don’t have to give them a false report,” Aurora replied, shaking her hoof and dissuading him from telling tall tales. “You told us about real stories, yes? I’ve got no problem with that. Do you want to know why?”

The yak was about to answer, but Aurora opened her mouth before he did. Yitterby, having seen that, remained silent, ears lent to her as she said in that cold, lonely dining room at the cluttered table, wafting out a disorganized and faint smell of food—there, she said:

“Because... we’ll tell you our story.”

Comments

[Venerable Ro]

Truth is always stranger than fiction, yes?

[MixMassBasher]

Looking forward to seeing their backstory here