A dull thud sounded from above Applebloom as she played baseball with her friends. She looked up, expecting to see something there, only for the ball to pass over her shoulder.
She woke up, feeling very annoyed. Another second and she would have hit a home run that would have been sure to earn her cutie mark.
She yawned. Darn ceilin'. Applejack's been wantin' to fix it fer ages. In any event, she was feeling a bit thirsty, and she knew it was going to be hard to fall back to sleep without something to drink. She hopped out of bed, opened her bedroom door, and walked downstairs.
She heard the roof creak again as she reached the bottom step. She frowned up at the ceiling for a moment before walking over to the refrigerator.
Big sis, ah hope ya get to that soon.
She passed one of the windows. Snow covered the ground and the trees for an far as the eye could see. It covered the fields, it covered the roads, it covered everything.
Applebloom was awake enough to remember that it was Hearth's Warming Eve, the night before the favorite holiday of all ponykind. However, she was tired enough that the excitement she normally would have felt was almost nonexistent.
She looked absentmindedly into the living room. A small evergreen tree was standing next to the fireplace, decorated with ornaments and wreathed with string and bows. It was beautiful, and a welcome addition to the other ornamentation placed around the room.
She reached the kitchen and headed directly for the refrigerator. She opened it and pulled out a carton of milk. After getting a small glass from the pantry, she poured herself a glass and wolfed down the delicious substance faster than even she had expected. The milk from the cows this year was exceptional.
She set the glass in the sink, put the carton away, and walked back toward the stairs. She had begun to climb them when again a sound from above, this time from the direction of the chimney, reached her ears.
There was a big puff of soot coming from the fireplace. She turned, curious and afraid. Another puff of soot, a flash of red and white... and the soot slowly settled.
In it's place stood a tall biped. He - she guessed he was male - was tall, fat, and he bore a white beard that was long enough to considerably cover much of his red suit. He wore black boots and a black belt over his red coat, along with a red hat with white cotton over it's brim; a white pom-pom stood where the otherwise pointed end of the hat would be. He bore a large, brown burlap sack over his shoulder.
He looked at her, and chuckled warmly. "Well, that's one way to make an entrance," he said, in a deep but warm and comforting voice.
Applebloom stared at him, all exhaustion fading. Her eyes turned toward the bag.
"You a burgulalar?"
To her surprise, the - she racked her brain for the word - man laughed once more. "It's a common misconception," he said, setting down the sack down. "Last time I checked, burglars come to take, not to give."
"Who are you?" she asked.
Before she could even try to cover for her rudeness, the man looked up from what he had been doing. "I go by many names. Sinterklaas. Father Christmas. Saint Nicholas. Kris Kringle." He chuckled, taking something well wrapped and placing it under the tree. "A few jokers like to refer to me as 'Chris Crinkle,' for my age."
Applebloom laughed as well, her distrust of the visitor disappearing.
"But the name I tend to like best is one of the most common; Santa Claus."
"Sandy Claws?"
He laughed again. "I've been known by that name as well."
"What're ya doing at our house?" Applebloom asked out of pure curiosity.
"It is my job to bring joy to good little boys and girls around the world; two worlds, now that I think about it." He placed two more packages under the tree. "I think your brother, sister, and grandmother will be happy with what I've brought them."
"What'd ya get 'em?"
"In the barn, there is a new, sharp, shining plow for your brother. Your sister I give these new pairs of horseshoes for her rodeos, as well as a new pair of saddlebags to replace the old, tattered ones she's been using." The man looked up from the tree. "As for Granny Smith..." He pointed at a nearby corner, whereupon a very new, comfortable rocking chair appeared out of thin air.
"You can do magic?"
"Oh yes. However, I find it much more satisfying to deliver a present with my own hands." He reached into his bag again, pulling out a small box. "Like so."
"For... for me?" she asked, surprised, taking the box with trembling hooves.
"For you," Santa said, standing back up. He smiled as she opened it. Inside was a small chisel and a hammer.
"Wow..." Applebloom said softly.
"Unfortunately, time is once again making a fool of me," the jolly red man said, turning back toward the fireplace. "I have other good - and naughty - children and their families to visit, and only a short amount of time to do it all in."
"You're leaving?" she gasped, almost dropping the gifts Santa had just given her.
"Oh my, yes." Santa smiled again. "Don't worry, my young friend. We shall meet again." He stepped into the fireplace and turned back toward her.
"How're you gonna get back up there?"
"Like this." He put his index finger next to his nose, and suddenly he flew upwards, dislodging more soot.
Applebloom stared at the fireplace, which, other than the abnormally large amount of soot in and around it, appeared as though nobody had ever been there. A small part of her wondered if she'd seen something real, or whether it had been her imagination.
She looked at the chisel and hammer on the floor. She touched them; they bounced away, and her fetlock acknowledged a vibration indicating that she had touched something.
He was real... he was real... Oh mah heavens!
An abrupt jingling and jangling of bells came from the rooftop. Applebloom heard something brush lightly against the roof, as well as a number of sounds that seemed to be hoofbeats. She ran for the nearest window.
Something came off the roof and flew skyward. Eight - no, nine - antlered beasts pulled a large, red sleigh, which was burdened by a large bag in the back. And in the front, a fat man in red, one she had just met, waved in the direction of the house.
"Merry Christmas and a happy Hearth's Warming Eve to all, and to all a good night!"
"Thank ya, Sandy!" Applebloom called, waving back.
In a log cabin surrounded in a desert of snow, a woman wearing a dress and an apron set a tray full of cookies on a small table in the middle of the living room. Her hair was white, and her face full of wrinkles, but her smile was warm enough to melt ice, and her face retained a lovely sense of youth and beauty.
The door opened, she heard someone come in, then she heard it shut; the whistling wind outside sounded reluctant to be kept out, and beat against the house as though in a mild tantrum about this.
"Please be careful, dear," the old woman said, softly but kindly. "I just brushed and mopped the floor."
"Of course, my dear." Into the living room came a tall, corpulent man; he had just taken off his coat, which was hanging on the hat rack next to the door. "I hope your evening wasn't too busy?"
"Or course not, dear."
The old man yawned, seeming tired as ever.
"My dear, I worry about you," the woman said, sternly but with care in every word. "Since you took up the job of delivering present to the children of two worlds, you come back twice as tired."
"I won't deny that I am exhausted," the old man replied, almost falling into an armchair next to the blazing fireplace. "But," he said, taking a small orb out of his pocket and staring into it, "seeing twice as many happy faces brings me twice as much joy."
He gave the snow-filled globe a little shake. The snow blowing about inside began to clear away, revealing a yellow filly with a red mane and tail sitting under an evergreen tree with her family, smiles blossoming on all their faces.
Santa smiled, glad that the family he was seeing was happy. It was this that made his job, tiresome though it was, worthwhile.
A short story, I know, but I wanted to wish all my readers a happy holidays. Thanks for sticking with me and my stories, and for inspiring me to do my best. I'm aware that I haven't released any chapters in the past couple of week. Rest assured, I am working on my current stories, as well as a few new ones which I hope will be as successful as my others.
With that said, Happy Holidays, everyone, and a Happy New Year!
Princess Luna sighed as she set aside her quill. This Hearth's Warming's Eve hadn't been friendly to her. A massive stack of paperwork, just finished, lay next to her desk. Not that that had been the only thing troublesome this day. She stretched a little, cricking her neck before walking out of her room and into the adjoining hallway.
Today had been trouble. In spite of the holiday season, there was still work to do, and threats came regardless of the existence of a holiday. A Changeling scare had run rampant in Fillydelphia recently, and witch hunts had taken place. It had taken a week of trials and putting her hoof down to put things right, which accounted for much of the paperwork, though hardly all. Yesterday, a riot of angry peasant farmers had broken out in the south; several tax collectors had been tarred, feathered, and literally run out of town on a rail; the farmers were upset about the taxes they had been under, and only after the Royal Guard was sent had peace been restored, though privately she held some sympathy for the members of the mob.
Today, though; today had almost been a breaker, literally and metaphorically. Many ponies, even after a year of her being in office again, still feared her, whether it was Nightmare Night or not. They remembered her as a demon who roamed the night, as an evil goddess determined to bring terror and everlasting night to them; they forgot that she was simply a pony like them, with failings and mortality like the rest of them, devoid of divine power and wishing good upon the country she was diarch of.
Some hours ago, when it was still daylight, Celestia had had a medical appointment and was unavailable for court. She had been coughing for the past couple days, and, at Luna's urging, had reluctantly decided to go. Luna promised that she would take care of things while she was gone.
An hour later, when court was in session, most of the cases had gone by in a semblance of normality. Nopony had said or done anything to raise her hackles, and so far, everything had proceeded smoothly. However, the final appointment had seen a small family of three - a unicorn father, an earth pony mother, and a unicorn daughter - approach the throne. As the father stated his case, Luna had noticed, despite her attempts to pay attention to him, that the daughter leaned against her mother and kept her eyes shut, desperately trying to ignore the Princess before her. Finally, after she had assured the father that she would look into his case (a claim that his farm was under the threat of being foreclosed unjustly), the young unicorn had said, quite audibly, "She won't eat me, will she mommy?"
Although stung, Luna would have been willing to let that go as childhood innocence... if the mother hadn't answered, "She won't... because mommy won't let that monster anywhere near you."
It had been more than she could bear. She had fled from the courtroom; she managed to hold the tears back just long enough to reach her room. The knowledge than even fully-grown ponies still expected the worst of her was too much for her to bear.
It had taken a while for her to get herself together, then - unnecessarily, perhaps - she had ordered one of her Guards to inform everypony that court was closed for the day.
It was not a particularly good night, and it was Hearth's Warming's Eve. Everypony would be celebrating the holidays tonight and tomorrow, and she wasn't up to speed on modern customs. She had taken some time to get used to using "normal" speech, even though she would occasionally drop back into olde English, and the rush of modern technology and the magical discoveries since her - or rather, Nightmare Moon's - first defeat were sometimes overwhelming. The fact was, she had little in common with the current era, and it disturbed her. It was made much worse by the fact that she was still feared, and she was sure that some even harbored hatred.
Depressed by all this, she set out for her room once more. She was now going to have to defend her subjects, as much as possible, from nightmares. The process in which she did so allowed her body to rest, almost as if she'd been asleep, so she suffered no physical exhaustion and only limited mental exhaustion. Luckily, most of the monsters she found in dreams were easily taken care of, but every so often she'd run into herself, or rather, Nightmare Moon; of course, it was never literally the foul monster that had taken her over, but it was another depressing proof that she was widely feared, and it weighed heavily on her.
She used her magic to open the door.
It took her a moment to recognize what she saw within.
A large evergreen tree stood where it certainly hadn't been standing just a few hours before. Under it were several wrapped packages. Three mooned-speckled stockings stood hung up over her personal fireplace, and a warm fire blazed in it, bringing wonderful heat into the room. Those hadn't been there either.
There was also a large, chubby man in red and white dress still stuffing the stockings full of smaller packages, pulling objects out of the sack on his back in order to do so.
Luna shook her head, mouth open in shock, trying to make sense of it all. Surely this couldn't be happening...?
It was. The man could hardly be unaware of her arrival, and after he finished filling those stockings, he turned toward her and chuckled kindly. He didn't say another word, but pulled what appeared to be a small book out of his bag and placed it in front of the other gifts that he'd already set under the tree.
"I think you'll find that last one rather cheering," he said in a deep but jolly voice. "Ho, ho, ho!" With that, he put his finger up against his nose, and swept up the chimney... without so much as being singed by the fire he'd set in Luna's fireplace.
Luna stared at the spot where the man had just vanished. To be sure, she knew of a world inhabited by humans, but she'd never expected to see one here without some sort of project that she and her sister would have been working on, and since Celestia shared just about everything these days, she knew of no such plan.
She walked over to the tree, hooves clip-clopping loudly against the floor as she did so. She picked up the book in her magic and opened it.
She almost reared back in shock when she saw what was on its pages.
There were photographs and paintings of her life; a few recent, but the vast majority were from before her fall to Nightmare Moon, when she and Celestia ruled in peace. In fact, many of them were from before the diarchs' reign had begun, when they were simple fillies exploring their world and having fun... as sisters, as the closest of family.
There was a photo of her and Celestia the first time they had snuck into the royal kitchen and tried to cook. She held back a giggle with her hoof; the results had included the kitchen looking as though a bomb had hit it, and the shoddy cookies that had come from all their hard work had been burned so thoroughly that they wouldn't even smolder when her angry father threw them in the fireplace. There were more; of the first snowpony they'd made, of the times each of them had learned to fly and use magic (Celestia had accidentally singed their mother's eyebrows and Luna had fried a coatrack - with the coats still on them), of their hard studies and ascension to power.
The book held no pictures of her as Nightmare Moon; in fact, there was no mention of it. Rather, the photos picked up after the Elements had cleansed her; of when she had walked through Ponyville just after the aforementioned cleansing, of her successes on Nightmare Night, and of the good times she'd spent with her sister after she'd become herself again. There weren't anywhere near as many of these as the pictures displaying events during her childhood, but they were all happy and uplifting.
How would he have gotten his hands on these? And how could they have been taken? These date back well before photography was invented.
"God rest ye, Merry alicorn," she read on a tag fixed to the book. "From, Santa Claus. Have a Merry Christmas and Merry Hearth's Warming, and a very Happy New Year!"
The "how" aspect quickly faded from her mind. She felt tears stream down her face. However, these were much different from the ones that she'd shed earlier; she felt warm and loved inside, and the difficulties she faced in the world seemed to have dissolved, at least temporarily.
She hugged the book close to her chest. "My thanks, mysterious stranger," she said quietly. She felt peaceful, in a way she hadn't for a long time. She felt rejuvenated, and looked forward to protecting the dreams of countless Equine children tonight.
"Now really, my dear," Mrs. Claus said to her husband, who set himself down, exhausted, in a chair by the fireplace, "meeting with royalty and not introducing yourself in person! You ought to have better manners than that."
Santa smiled. He knew his wife was mostly joking. Nonetheless, he answered, "I do have others, some just as bad off if not more so, to think about, you know. And," he added, picking up a crystal ball and gazing into it to view a confident and determined midnight-blue alicorn go about her own work, truly happy for the first time in a long while, "I think what I said, wrote, and left was enough for the situation at hand."
Author's Note
Since you guys liked the last chapter so much, I thought (and I sincerely hope) you'd enjoy this one. God bless you all, and have an awesome Christmas and a wonderful New Year! And please remember the True Reason for the season!
