A Symphony Brought Forth By Fire
Of Winter and Wine
By Cyneryk
The sounds of the fire was music to Cheerilee’s ears.
Cracks and pops filled the chilled innards of her home with a warm feeling of security and comfort. It made shadows that bounced off of every able source inside of the living room—projecting dark, dancing serenities every which way. It created true works of art, and even an unlikely birthplace for entertainment. The flames swayed and twirled, guided by the air and maneuvered by will.
Cheerilee could never get over the beauty of it all. She could never forget just what the allure of warmth really did for her. The fieriness inside of her soul was rekindled by ashes and burnt logs—warm fur and a fluttery chest. She could feel the ever loving embrace of the fire, as it gave her another reason to close her eyes.
The smile that adorned her face was a gift from something ethereal. It was foreign, a pleasant change to her bodily occurrences. The loving grin that she bore was not one that she would typically give her students. No. It wasn’t as outwardly directed and cheery as it would have been. The subtle curling of the corners of her mouth wasn't aimed at anything in particular. The reminders of what little gifts and chances she had made the smile mean so much more. The heating of her cheeks and face was a present, a little gift-wrapped box given to her from herself.
For a freezing cold, snowy night like it was, the fire was a blessing in disguise. The evening December flakes poured from the sky outside her front door, littering the town with a blanket of white. The sea of snow came down in thick heaps, a plentiful helping of winter joy that only brought depressing thoughts to Cheerilee’s state of mind. The snowflakes were a fluffy burden that threatened to push her into a madness that could only be described as a severe dislike of the cold. Every wintry gust that touched her fur gave her another reason to scoot close to the undying warmth on the other side of the room—an almost palpable savior that gave her a reason not to make her lose her mind.
Though, she didn’t need to think about that anymore. Her windows were closed, and her shades were drawn. Not a sliver of remembrance towards the detestable frozen crystals outside her door. Not a single malicious drop of the cold could touch her now. Not a single reason to shiver or cry. It was just her, and the wondrous warmth in front of her needing body.
Who needed it? The cold was much more dangerous and unforgiving than heat—a condemnation for all the kind gestures and love the sun had given her in the previous months.
Cheerilee hated winter. This lonely fact didn’t stop her from trying to make the best of it. She lay on her side, spread comfortably across her large sofa not even ten feet away from the blaze. She had taken it upon herself to alter the location of a few things in her living room, in exchange for maximum comfort. The couch was a bright magenta, matching the color of her gleaming coat. The only contrast in the room was the baby blue blanket that the mare had draped over her body. Her hooves stuck out at the bottom. Unfortunately, it was the only one she had. The rest were currently being cleaned, or were in even worse condition.
In her hooves, relaxing on the armrest, was a brand new book. Forgotten Fables: Volume One, was a read that Cheerilee had been dying to get a hold of for a while. Unlike a few ponies that she knew, she took a liking in her job more multiple reasons. Broadening her knowledge of history, as well as increasing her understanding of literature, was something that she seldom did. She never had the time. Grading papers, planning out lessons and organizing future assignments was what mainly dominated the teacher’s life, not that she minded. It was little moments, like the sound of her flipping a page, that made everything all right.
There was a small cup of hot chocolate seated on an end table just near her reach, next to the sofa. A tiny trail of steam rose into the air. Cheerilee had yet to even take a sip. The contents of the mug were still very near the top.
With eyes as soft as the pillow propped against her, she stared at the pages underneath. For every word she read to herself, it created a trail of green as her orbs skimmed the vocabulary ever so daintily. Her mind fluttered as the words soared through her head at a calming pace, lulling her into the world of the narrator speaking to her.
The sun outside was far gone, sitting in a place much further away than Cheerilee would have liked. The moon sat high in the sky as its replacement, singing sweet nothings as it lit up the snow like a lighthouse beacon. There was at least a foot of snow on the ground, by now. Luckily, it was a Saturday. She was sure that the town would be accessible come Monday. The last thing she wanted to do was cancel school, should the snow continue to pour down the way it was.
Cheerilee let out a small sigh, and absently reached for her hot chocolate. It took mere milliseconds for her to bring the edge of the mug up to her desperate lips. The results were a burnt tongue and a scorched throat. She barely noticed. She could feel it light her inside aflame, making her feel an even more apparent sense of warmth. She didn’t even turn her head from her book when she set her drink back on the end table.
This was her true heaven—the words spread sensually across the pages, the sounds that skipped through her ears, the warmth that filled her entire being with an undeniable sense of pride and bliss.
It was all ruined when three soft rasps came from her front door.
For the first time in a while, Cheerilee peeled her eyes from her book. Her neck ached when she turned her gaze towards the door behind her. Her mouth curled downwards in a disappointed frown. She swapped glances from the door, to her book, and to her blanket, multiple times with each movement causing her mane to slightly shift out of place.
Two more rasps filled Cheerilee’s home. She didn’t wish to get up, and destroy the ultimate comfort that she had spent the entire night trying to achieve. Her blankets were so warm and delightful, covering her in a near perfect manner. The thought of getting up irked her, but she realized quickly that she had no choice. Once she sat back down, and got lost in her book once more, she’d be alright then. She was fairly sure of it.
Heaving a groan, Cheerilee threw the blanket off of her body, and over into a heap on the other side of the couch. She eagerly placed a small piece of paper inside of her book, making sure not to lose her page. She pondered who could have been at her door at this time of night, especially in a snowstorm as rough as this one. At approximately ten minutes to midnight, Cheerilee slogged off the couch, and made her way for the door.
One more knock could be heard, before Cheerilee grabbed the door handle, and turned.
She was hit with an icy chill, a sign of winter that she despised with an undisclosed passion. Almost immediately, a few snowflakes previous above the door landed on her snout, tickling her nose. The temptation to slam the door was indisputable, especially when she took note of the mare standing at her doorstep.
She was the color of plums, a light purple driven from the color of grapes and flowers. Snow littered her coat, especially her back and head, as if she’d been standing motionless for a while. Her mane was a strawberry pink, visibly disheveled and tousled. It looks like she washed her hair with something that was most certainly not shampoo. Her usually bright, fuchsia eyes were half-closed, and out of focus. There were bags underneath her them, upon closer look. Glancing down, she could see a purple bottle of wine in her hoof.
Cheerilee frowned—especially when the mare gave her a toothy, inebriated smile.
“Hey, sis!” she slurred. She brought a hoof to her mouth, and wiped what was probably alcohol off of her lips. “How’s it hangin’?”
Cheerilee merely stared at her with eyes that became more steely and heated than the inside of her home. The mare didn’t seem to notice.
There was a small pause where the mare waited for a response that she was never going to get. Her smile faltered dejectedly, and she flicked her gaze briefly towards the snow. Her cheeks were pinker than Cheerilee remembered, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold, or some other reason. She awkwardly set the wine bottle in the snow, and turned back to look at the schoolteacher.
“Uh… been a while, huh?” she said, reaching a hoof back to scratch the back of her head. A few flakes of snow scattered from her mane, like dandruff. Cheerilee’s pursed her lips, but kept her mouth firmly closed.
“Eheh…” The mare’s nervous chuckles ripped a hole through Cheerilee’s patience. “Wonderful weather here...”
Cheerilee sighed, loudly. “Berry, what are you doing here? What do you want?” She cast a half-hearted gaze towards the frozen mare. The temptation to slam the door was growing unbearable. The chill of the snow was threatening to drive Cheerilee into a brief moment of insanity. She couldn’t stand the shivers, and the way the snow touched her body. She felt like she was being caressed, and not in a way that Cheerilee preferred.
The intoxicated mare let out a small breath. Cheerilee watched as her breath vapor left her body, like some kind of ghost. The sight of Berry bothered her. “C-Can I come in for a minute?” she said.
Cheerilee turned back to look inside. Her blanket, book, and hot chocolate was pleading for her return, like a child longing for its mommy. Turning back to her sister, the teacher shook her head. “Why? What do you need, dear? I’m pretty busy.”
“Oh, nothing really. It’s just awfully cold out here, and I forgot my mittens.” Berry Punch gave her sister a tipsy, playful grin that did nothing but urge Cheerilee’s blood to boil.
The teacher bit her bottom lip, irritatingly. Every fiber of her being told her to close that door. Every fiber of her being told her to go back to her book, her hot chocolate, her warmth. Every fiber of her being told her to lose her patience. This was why she was surprised that she didn’t abide by her own wishes. She was much too kind, and she knew it. However, she was still horrified with herself when she pushed open the door a little wider, and stomped back inside. “Alright,” she mumbled. "Come in."
She had missed the intoxicated grin that adorned Berry Punch’s face. With a small chortle that immediately made Cheerilee regret her decision, the mare picked up her bottle of wine, and wandered inside.
By the time Berry Punch had actually made her way through the door, Cheerilee had already thrown herself back on her couch. Her body had already succumbed to the cold, and she wanted to make those hellish chills go away. She tossed her blanket back over her body, and picked up her book. Flipping the it open to where she had placed her bookmark not even five minutes ago, she removed it and pointed her snout towards in its direction, all while bearing a slight frown.
Berry Punch shook her mane, sending small drops of melted snow everywhere. A few drops landed on Cheerilee’s book, which she pretended to ignore. “Hmm, it’s so toasty in here! I dunno how you can stand it, Chee.”
Cheerilee hated that nickname. The mare told herself not to even pay attention to the unwelcome house guest. Surely, she’d leave soon. Right then, Cheerilee’s only companions were the pages in front of her, and blistering warmth of the fire. Shortly, it would make those insufferable shivers go away, and she could lose herself in her literature.
Berry Punch bore an almost oblivious smile that made Cheerilee’s chest burn. The drunken mare hummed a small tune to herself, and—before Cheerilee could object—planted her rump on the opposite end of the couch. Cheerilee instantly felt her side of the sofa rise up ever so slightly, and a few essential pieces of her body losing contact with her blanket. She didn’t even bother to fix it, and kept her eyes firmly planted on her book. Unfortunately, she was finding it more and more strenuous to read the words to herself.
“So, how’s work coming along, Chee?”
Cheerilee forcefully slammed her book shut, not even wasting her time to place her bookmark inside. She quickly realized that there was going to be no point in trying anymore. Berry Punch barely flinched. “Berry, why are you here?”
Berry Punch shrugged, and slid her hoof up the bottle of wine until she had a firm grip on its neck. She slowly brought the drink to her lips, and took a small swig of its contents. Cheerilee didn’t indulge in alcohol in the slightest, choosing to be a good role model for her students. As the bottle tipped upwards, she heard the liquid sloshing around inside before Berry rested the drink on her thigh. Cheerilee didn't like that sound, at all.
“Oh, no reason. Just, ya know, comin’ over to see how--” Berry hiccupped, “--you were doin’ is all."
“Berry…” The sternness inside of Cheerilee’s voice made Berry Punch shift in her seat, and nervously bite her bottom lip. Ever since they were fillies, Cheerilee would use this voice on her younger sister whenever she was being bothersome or doing something she shouldn’t.
“Err… sorry,” she wiggled a little bit, fixing her slouching posture. “I just… how are you, Chee? It’s been a while.”
Cheerilee only stared at her sister. Recurring thoughts and memories that she had previously stored away in the inner recesses of her mind were unwilling being brought forth. She didn’t even wish to bother, and opened up her book once more. “Alright,” she said flatly, before trying her best to focus on the words before her. She already knew it was hopeless anyways, but it couldn’t hurt to try once more. Cheerilee didn’t know how much Berry had drank already, but she silently hoped that the mare would just… pass out, or something. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for her.
Berry Punch reached down, and set her bottle below her on the carpet, directly at the foot of the couch. Then, she leaned back and set her hooves in her lap. “That’s… uhm, that’s good! Nice to hear!”
There was a small pause, one that finally began to lift Cheerilee’s spirits. The silence was eloquent, and frankly beautiful to hear. The din of her house was slowly begin to turn to its natural self, and for a moment, Cheerilee had almost lost herself inside of her book once more. But, for some reason, Berry was keen on not letting that happen.
“Chee, I just--”
“Don’t call me that,” Cheerilee muttered, not taking her eyes off of her book. Berry Punch turned to the floor, and shook her head. Berry Punch opened her mouth to most likely utter an apology, but Cheerilee accidentally cut her off. “Look, it’s really late. Where’s Pinchie? Please don’t tell me you left her alone again.”
Berry Punch’s subdued gaze turned upwards as she tried her best to make to make eye contact with her elder sister. “She’s sleeping over at a friends house tonight. And… I know it’s late. But, I really just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Cheerilee could feel Berry’s heated stare resting upon her, and it made her feel like she was bearing the weight of the sky on her tiny shoulders. For some reason, the more Cheerilee looked down at her book, the more her back started to ache. “Well, that’s great. I’m doing fine.”
Berry let out a small sigh, and looked at her drink, Not even a second later, turned back to her sister. “I… I just want to say I’m sorry, Cheerilee, for everything I put you through.”
One again, Cheerilee slammed her book shut. She kept her eyes focused on the spine of her book. She didn’t deem anything else in that room needed her gaze. As rude and uncharacteristic of her as it was, her beliefs and emotions were justified in her own mind. “It’s funny how you say that, when you’re now trying to have this conversation with me at midnight, drunk, and carrying a half-empty bottle of liquor.”
Berry shook her head, and shifted her position on the couch so that way she could give her sister the attention that she felt she deserved. “I know how it looks, but.. I’ve been doing some thinking…” she let out a small groan, and brought a hoof up to her forehead. “A lot of thinking, sis. And… well, I just want to say that I’m sorry, alright?”
“I’m sorry too, Berry, but I just can't accept your empty apologies.” Cheerilee lifted up her eyes, from the floor to the fire. She watched as the flames danced and tiptoed around, like they were trying to tell a convoluted story. “Not until I see that they’re genuine.”
“I understand what I put you through. I didn’t realize that until just recently,” Berry admitted with words gentler that Cheerilee had ever heard before.
“Then there is a good example of why I’m still upset,” said Cheerilee. The cracks and pops of the fire were louder than she had remembered. Between the words of the fire, and the ones on her page, Cheerilee felt like she was sitting in a rowdy classroom.
“Please, listen,” Berry pleaded. Cheerilee blinked, before turning finally meet her sisters gaze. “It took me a long time to realize… what I’ve been doing. What I’ve been putting everyone though. I’ve spent nights and days wondering and imagining just how this conversation with you was going to go, sis. I… I’ve been trying my best.”
“Yet, you still show up tipsy,” Cheerilee sighed, letting every syllable ring with a tinge of disappointment.
“It’s the only way I’d be able to work up the courage to actually talk to you about this. Cheeri--”
Berry Punch let out a tiny shriek when her hoof accidently connected with the wine bottle on the floor. Too late to do anything, the two of them watched as the bottle tipped over. It took a mere second for the liquid to begin spewing out. A sea of red soaked itself into Cheerilee’s carpet, pooling. By the time Berry Punch nabbed the bottle, and put it back right side up, a good bit of Cheerilee’s floor looked like the aftermath of a brutal homicide. Berry Punch stared pitifully at the mess, her eyes wetter than her sister would have liked. “S-Sorry… I’ll go grab a towel…” The moment Berry made any sort of movement, Cheerilee held up a hoof.
“No, dear, just… just leave it. Not a big deal.” She brought a hoof up to her temple, and rubbed. Perhaps she could cover it up with the couch if she just moved it forward a few inches. No real problem. Besides, it’d be warmer anyways.
Berry Punch planted her back against the couch, and held the bottle firmly in her grip. She didn’t take a single drink.
Another minute passed by, and it bullied Cheerilee into seeming longer than it actually was.
“I’ve been trying my best, sis. It’s… it’s hard, sometimes. After years and years…”
“I know, Berry, I know. I've been telling you the same thing. You've got to learn how to get a grip on yourself, before something bad happens to you.” Cheerilee turned her body to face her sister, and watched as Berry’s features dimmed. “I’ve bailed you out of jail three times now, because of the things you’ve done while drunk. You publicly made a fool out of yourself on the daily. And, let’s not forget that Pinchie doesn't even know who her real father is.”
Tears welled up in the side of Berry’s eyes, and she turned to look at the floor once more. Her mouth quivered pathetically. Almost immediately, a deep surge of regret burrowed its way into Cheerilee’s heart. It burned her chest, turning it even hotter than the fire before them. Her eyes softened for a moment. “Wait, wait…” She cleared her throat. “Sis, you… you have to understand. I have to be a role model for the kids I teach. I cannot be seen getting drunk like you. Understand what it’d do to my career if it was to be known that my sister does what she does? It’s called respect, dear. It’s what I cannot afford to lose, with a career like mine. It is also something you need to get for yourself.”
Tears were streaming down Berry’s face. “I know! I’ve been trying so hard! I just… please believe me.” She clasped her hooves together, like she was uttering a prayer. “I’ve talked to mother, sober, the other day.”
Cheerilee knit her brow. She had never heard of her sister doing such a thing, nor a period of time where she wasn’t underneath the influence.
“I sat down with her at the nursing home.” Berry set her hooves down in her lap, like a small child would. “She seemed to happy, sis. She said she was so proud of me, and… and that she was so glad that she got to see me so clear headed. She said that it reminded her of the days when we were younger.”
Cheerilee frowned, but this time for a different reason entirely. The warmth coming from her blanket was beginning to make her uncomfortable.
“The look on her face… it was like she was too happy to see me. I realized, sis, why. She was happy that I was still alive. She was exhil… ex-ill-rited…”
“Exhilarated.”
Berry’s slurred speech was starting to get the best of her. She offered her sister a thankful nod. “She was ex-hil-a-rated to see that I hadn’t gone off and died, Cheerilee. Do you know what that means? Our own mother thought that I’d be dead by now, and that since I’ve came to her sober that I was doing something about my habits. That I was changed. Our own mother didn't think I'd last this long..."
Cheerilee nodded, a heartfelt one that caused her entire body to shiver. “This is why you need to get your life back on track, Berry. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Your habits affect so many other ponies. We all just want the best for you, and… well, your best isn’t this.” The more Cheerilee spoke, the more she felt like angels were singing along with her, like she was finally letting her mind free about the whole situation. She was tired and disgusted with herself for having to shut out her sister the way she did, but she felt she had no choice in the matter, not until Berry got the hint. Berry placed her bottle deep in the folds of the couch, so that it wouldn’t spill over a second time.
“So hard, Cheer. So hard I’ve been trying. Please, believe me. I’ve been standing at your door for an hour just thinking of different ways to tell you I’m sorry. I need you. I can’t stand not having my sister,” Berry cried. She dropped her head into her hooves, and sobbed mercilessly. An endless river of salty tears that described the hurt and sorrow the drunken mare had put herself through.
Cheerilee’s heart yanked. It tugged and pulled with enough intensity to wish to cry along with her sister. At one single moment, she saw the desperate wet tears come from her sister eyes, the sincerity that rang through the drops down her face. She could see the alcohol that came from her sisters mouth was unwelcome and caused nothing but unbridled misery. Cheerilee could see the crash, the sorrow of a mare afraid of her own death—afraid of her lasting memory on the world, and what it would bring forth.
Cheerilee saw her sister.
She reached over, and pulled her tipsy sibling in a hug. It was a hug that hadn’t been shared since they were younger. A “special hug” Cheerilee called it. It was where, when either of them was hurt or crying, they hugged and squeezed each other three times—signifying the fact that “you’ll be okay”, “I’m here for you”, and “I love you”. Cheerilee wasn’t sure when it started, but it was something that was purely Berry and hers’. It was completely there’s, and the memories of it all hit her with the intensity of a freight train. Berry’s tears matted down the fur on Cheerilee’s shoulder.
“I believe you, sis. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’m going to help you with this. We’ll do it together. I don’t want to lose you this way. I can’t lose my sister to something as stupid as this.” Perhaps the reason why she put so much distance between her sister was for the sole reason that, if something were to happen, Cheerilee wouldn’t be around. Perhaps she was just too selfish to add another pony into her makeshift list about those to care about. Perhaps she had accidentally put work and her students before her family.
Perhaps, she had thought about all this wrong.
So terribly, terribly wrong.
For some reason, Berry went limp in her hooves. She had stopped crying. Cocking an eyebrow, Cheerilee pushed Berry further away from her.
Her sister’s eyes were closed, and she was lightly snoring.
Cheerilee could only stare, dumbfounded, at her beloved sister. Everything that they had done together, everything in both of their lives, lead them to a moment like this—and Berry just passed out. The schoolteacher couldn’t help but sigh, and shake her head pitifully.
With a another quiet sigh, she scooted herself off the couch, letting her sister slide down. Her body rested peacefully on the sofa, even though the tears of her face had hardly dried yet. Cheerilee picked up the bottle that was still stuck inside the couch cushions, and set it next to her ice cold hot chocolate. There was only a quarter of liquor left.
Cheerilee’s reached out, and removed the blanket from underneath Berry’s resting body. It took a bit more effort than she would have preferred, but after a few minutes, she held the blanket in her hooves. Her sister was still fast asleep. Cheerilee barely hesitated before wrapping her in the baby blue blanket, making sure that every able part of her was covered and warmed. She used to do this to her sister back in the day, especially on Hearth’s Warming Night, when she’d fall asleep much earlier than her older sister.
When Berry Punch was snug, Cheerilee threw a passing glance back at the bottle that tormented her living room. It was a sinister curse that fought to wreck havoc in her sister's, as well as her family’s, life. She huffed, and snatched the bottle, almost knocking it to the floor.
She stomped into the kitchen and wasted no time pouring the remains into the sink. She took a sick joy in the sound that it made when it fell down the drain. The sound of her sister sloshing the liquor in a bottle was a horrid sound in itself. However, she never knew that liquor could sound so sweet. She never imagined that the noise that alcohol made when it was being poured down the drain was so melancholic. It sent chills down her spine that could never have been replicated otherwise.
She tossed the bottle in the garbage, where it belonged.
Literally moments after, she trotted back into the living room with a grin that could have made Celestia herself smile along with her. Berry's soft breathing meaningfully filled the air and mixed with the sound of the fire. Cheerilee felt a nonexistent loving embrace wrap around her, knowing that the moment her sister woke up in the morning, she’d be sober. She'd be her sister again, like all those years ago. Years upon years that she had spent drinking away, passing the time through self-destruction and poor thought. She could finally have an intimate moment with her child, something that she learned was all the little filly ever wanted after spending countless hours teaching her. Berry could finally have an opportunity to rise up against her inner desires. It made Cheerilee's heart fluster.
Cheerilee planted her rump approximately five feet away from the fire. She felt pure ecstasy in listening to the cracks and pops it gave off. It made her want to sway and dance, perhaps hum a little tune to herself. It reminded her of her frequent camping trips as a child, accompanied by her sister. In a way she just couldn't describe, it was a point of weakness. It was something brand new entirely.
There was warmth inside everypony, Cheerilee would think. Some just feel it in different ways.
Author's Note
Just a short oneshot for funsies. Hooray!
Feedback and comments are appreciated.
Thank you for reading~
-Cyneryk
