Aces' Diary

A/N: This is partially a canon chapter.

Holiday Special: Hearts Warming Eve/ Christmas Eve/ Heiligabend Part I

It was December in Ponyville. Sounds of festivities could be heard amongst the residences. Little fillies and colts roamed the street, laughting and playing joyfully; while the adults watched carefully from the distance.

The houses were decorated with different kinds of ornaments and colourful streamers,  which brought a smile upon the ponies’ face. Layers of white snow covered the roofs, making the street look like a row of gingerbread houses decorated with icing.

The snow had fallen upon the town over the night, piling up in the streets, over the buildings and trees.

Tom, a British Spitfire ace, walked out of his dwelling along with Lyra, who was wearing long striped scarf and a dapper top hat. They carried a present each, both wrapped in red and green paper, tied with ribbons of opposite hue.

“I hate winter…” Tom muttered. It was cold and lonely before he had been picked up from the street, and indeed, it was terrible.

*****

Glasgow, Scotland, 22 years ago

“Com’ back ‘ere yah bloody lil’ bugger!” shouted the shopkeeper, chasing a raggy looking boy in the snowy street.

“Like I will, yar halvwit!” the boy  back, tightening his grasp on a loaf of bread in his hand. *I would’ve been gone a mile away by now! That big mouth gonna get what he did.** he thought ragefully.*

He made a turn at the corner, sliding on the slippery cobble stone pavement.

BAM

He crashed into a man: a Scottish soldier. The bread he had stolen fell to the ground.

The soldier glared at him curiously, puzzled by the boy’s alacrity. He squatted down and picked the loaf, “What’s the hurry, boyo?” he asked calmly, handing the boy’s bread back.

“None o’ yer concern, Mister,” the boy spat irritatingly and started to run again, but the shopkeeper emerged from the corner and grabbed his collar.

“Got ya, yer filthy bugger!” the shop keeper exclaimed victoriously, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“Let me go, ye’ lunatic!” the boy demanded angrily, struggling to break free from the shopkeeper’s grasp.

He exchanged glances with the boy and his captor, “Wat’ goin’ on ‘ere?” the soldier asked.

He lifted the boy a bit off the ground, “This lil’ bugger stole mah shop’s bread!” explained the shopkeeper.

“How much tah bread?” the soldier pointed at the bread curiously.

“Five pence,” the shopkeeper answered dryly.

The soldier searched the pouch above his kilt, picking out five pence and gave them to the shopkeeper, “Now, get lost, lad.”

The shop keeper looked at the coins, counting them. He dropped the boy and walked away in silent.

The boy grumbled annoyingly, pulling his colllar in place, “Thanks, Mister,” he said quietly, and started walking away.

“Boyo! Where yer mom n’ dad?” the soldier asked.

The boy turned back, “Dead. Mom died long ago. Dad got shot in the trench.” He departed after he had finished explaining.

He ran after the boy and grabbed his arm, “Hold yer horses, boyo. Where d’ yah live?” he asked worriedly.

“In ye alley. Next two street,” the boy answered. “Can ah go now?” he asked annoyingly.

“Nay, boyo. Y’ can’t live like that. Bugging people’s stuff! Y’ come wit’ me. Yah will live a new life from now on.” He extended a hand, gesturing the boy to take it.

The boy took his hand and shook it. He smiled joyfully. They took off in the opposite direction from the boy’s alley.

“So, what yer name?” asked the soldier.

“Tom, Thomas. I forgot me lastname,” he answered.

“Then I dub thee Thomas McMorrow.” Tom beamed joyfully.

“And you?” Tom questioned back.

“Angus McMorrow. Can call me Gus.”

*****

Tom arrived at Sweet Apple Acres with the Lyra. He spotted the newly built barn in the residental area of the orchard. The barn was somewhat wide, probably used to store the recently discovered triplane.

*****

Somewhere in Scotland, April, 1929

“Yah sure ye noted down everything, Tom?” Gus asked attentively. He watched the old biplane taxiing slowly along the runway.

“Aye! Watch me!” He accelerated, the tail gradually rose up, indicating that the plane was ready to soar into the sky!

He pulled the flight-stick back. The flaps angled down, bending the wind toward the ground, and lifted the contraption from the Scottish soil. Tom heart skipped a beat, knowing that he was finally off the ground. The world had been slowed down for the moment; Tom would never forget it, ever.

Gus was on the ground, waving to him. Tom waved back happily as he ascended to the blue summer sky. He stayed at the low attitude, not wanting to go any higher up.

**I will go even higher,* he thought wistfully, but perhapse not today With that, he turned his plane around, back to the airfield. The biplane gradually descended down the earth. Tom’s hand was shaky. He gripped the flight-stick tightly, and gently pulled it back, touching the ground with the rear landing gear.*

“Yer did it, kid!” The old soldier came running toward his plane, cheering joyfully to the boy’s success. “Tom, Tom, Tom!” Gus proclaimed.

*****

“Tommy, Tommy!” A familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. It was Gerhard, who was in the long leather coat.

The German ace came up and gave him a salute. Judging by the look on his face, he’d been waiting for him for a while now. “Kommen Sie! let’s get inside. Es ist kalt out here.” Gerhard gestured for him to enter the Apple family’s barn. He complied, and Lyra followed.

Applejack was the only pony in the hall, putting the finishing touch on a Hearts Warming Eve tree, “Welcome, y’all!” she exclaimed. “Supper’s in half an hour!” she stated and went back into the kitchen, probably to help with the food.

As they took their seats, Tom looked over at his companion, and asked, “So, how yah’ doin’ in Octavia an’ Vinyl’s place?” Tom asked.

“Sehr gut. Es turned out that Octavia kann sprech Deutsch!” He shot up in excitement, then quickly reigned himself in, and assumed a sheepish expression, “Und du?”

Tom rolled his eyes from the awkwardness, “Fine,” he replied simply. Changing the subject would be the appropriate action to do, at the moment, “This is meh first Christmas supper! Can yer believe tat?” A surprise look appeared on Gerhard’s face.

Gerhard leaned forward, “Sie serious?!” Tom, who was making himself comfortable on the chair, nodded sadly.

“Why ist das?”

“Let’s begin when I was eight,” he started with a grim face. “It was a cold Christmas Eve ‘n Glasgow…”

About twenty minutes later…

“An’ that’s why I nevar had  good ol’ big supper…” Tom trailed off there, losing himself in old and rusty memories. His childhood memory hadn’t been told anywhere, to anyone before. Such an irony that he had just told his secret to the enemy.

Abruptly, a set of knocks on the door. Gerhard sprung up to his feet and rushed toward the entrance. “Komming!” he shouted on the way. The door had been flung open, revealing a herd of ponies.

There were Octavia, Vinyl, Bon Bon, Pipsqueak along with his parents, the rest of the element bearers, and several Wonderbolts were in the group at the door; Rainbow Dash went into over-exciting mode upon seeing her idols. Most of them had their saddlebags on, except the unicorns, who used their levitation.

Gerhard beamed merrily, “Kommn sie! Supper ist almost ready now,” he then made way for the crowd. They all shared greetings and holiday wishes, then spread out around the hall. One could say that Apple family’s barn is fairly huge. The once large mass divided into smaller group.

“Schätz!” shouted Ava, who had just arrived. She hugged him lovingly, “Bin ich zu spät? (Am I late?)” she asked. Gerhard shook his head in reply and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Kommen Sie,” he said, ushering her inside. He took her coat off and hung it on the hanger next to the door.

“Oi!” Tom called, getting attention from everyone (and everypony) in the room, “Let’s sing the carols!” he suggested, getting ‘Yay carols!’ from Pinkie, they all started

They all sang along pretty well, except Gerhard and his wife. Pinkie came up with a brilliant idea: singing it again in Germane! She cleared her throat and started again. (The German version should starts right about now.) Octavia joined them; her voice was truly beautiful.

“Time für human carols!” Gerhard stated and started singing, and Ava followed suit. This time, Octavia also tried to sing along the foreign lyrics, which almost resulted in a disaster. Tom went ahead and sang in English version; decorated with his Scottish accent.

A moment later, Tom started another song. This time, Gerhard knew the lyrics well.

After they had finished, the ponies audience applauded and shared a hearty laugh for Tom’s accent. Compliments and critics flew around the room.

Applejack emerged from the kitchen, “Dinner’s ready, y’all!” she shouted to inform the whole hall. Chatter erupted from the populace of the hall, mostly about the smell of the food.

As the crowd mad its way to the food, Applejack couldn’t hold back an exclaimation. She wasn’t expecting quite this many guests

The cuisine was different from back home. The turkey was nowhere in sight. It replaced by a large fruit cake; courtesy of Pinkie. Mashed potato, Apple pies, grilled corns, carrot soup and other dishes sat there on the table, waiting to be eaten.

Tom sat down on one of the chairs around the dining table, waiting for the others to do the same.

I love Christmas! Tom thought, smiling happily before he dug down to the mashed potato.