TRIXIE: A Hearth's Warming Eve Carol

Chapters

Tale of the Phantasm
Shadows at Dawn
In the Light of Day
Darkness
The End of It
The Day's Visitors

Tale of the Phantasm

Trixie trudged through the snow, bracing herself against the cold, inefficiently protected by her cheap and worn-out clothing, her coat being blown back by the wind.

Her destination was a decayed old house, all of its color gone, now peeling and gray. She opened the front gate, a spiky padlocked door of black iron, with her magic, and slowly and carefully made her way up the rocky garden path. The garden in question was just as neglected as the house, and was overgrown all over the house and the path, the trees so thick that they turned the cloudy late afternoon into night.

Going up the stairs to her front door, Trixie crossed paths with her housekeeper, Zecora. Her striped coat and frilly uniform were all in shades of gray, which fit well with the dreary appearance of the house, though Zecora herself was refined and clean, while the house was in disrepair beyond all hope.

"Good evening, Miss Trixie," said Zecora. "I'm finished for tonight. Now I shall return home, if that's quite all right."

Trixie rolled her eyes at the maid's tendency to speak in verse. "Yes, Zecora. I'll be seeing you in the morning, at the crack of dawn as always, don't you dare expect any concessions due to it being Hearth's Warming Eve. Not a thing changes."

"And on that friendly note, I'll take my leave," Zecora said dryly. "To you, a merry…" She stopped as Trixie glared at her. "Never mind then," she muttered, passing Trixie and softly padding down the path.

Trixie sighed and turned toward her front door, readying her horn to open it. She glanced absently at her door knocker and froze in fear.

What once had been a plain and unadorned wooden knocker now displayed a sleeping, eagle-like face.

"Gilda?" Trixie gasped.

Gilda's face was glowing an eerie white-blue, and was translucent. The feathers that made up her bangs were flowing as if she was underwater. As Trixie stared in bewilderment at this impossible phenomenon, the apparition opened its eyes and glared at her harshly.

Trixie exclaimed and jumped backward in terror. She averted her eyes for a split second, and when she looked back at the knocker it was its normal self again.

"Erm, Zecora?" Trixie called.

Zecora turned around. "Yes, Miss Trixie?"

"Do you… notice anything strange about this door knocker?"

The maid frowned deeply and inspected the door. "Naught but the usual wood and stone," she replied. "Will that be all? Can I go home?"

"…Yes," Trixie said slowly, not daring to take her eyes off the door. "Yes, of course."

Trixie stared for a long time, faintly aware of Zecora leaving the premises. It was a heavy minute before she finally applied her magic to the door, opening it.

She stepped inside her home's spacious entry room. Just ahead of her was the massively broad flight of stairs leading up to her bedroom, but she only saw it for a second before she closed the door behind herself, leaving the room in pitch darkness.

Before her eyes adjusted, Trixie could have sworn that she saw a huge black hearse at the top of the stairs, pulled by six gray pegasus stallions with bat wings and yellow cat eyes. The sinister pegasi galloped down the stairs and rushed at Trixie, passing her on either side. Trixie, frozen in fear and bewilderment, flinched lightly as the hearse seemed about to collide with her.

But the great black carriage passed right through her, and she felt nothing more than a chill wind, and was left blind once again. It was a few more seconds before she was able to actually see in the darkness.

"Must have had some bad parsley at lunch," Trixie said shakily to herself. She started up the stairs, not bothering to pick up a candle or even light the tip of her horn, making her way through the house in darkness as she always did, trying to assure herself that all was as normal.

~0~0~0~

Several hours later, long after the city outside had gone still and silent, Trixie closed her bedroom door and locked it tightly, now dressed in her pale blue nightgown and cap. She stood in front of the fireplace and used her magic to light a pale pink fire, the flames tiny and low, barely illuminating anything, and then sat down in one of the large chairs near the fireplace and started eating a bowl of cold porridge.

Her fireplace was carved with illustrations of scenes from tales of the holy scriptures. Princess Celestia and her sister turning an armored unicorn king into shadow; another of the two of them attacking a serpentine creature seemingly mashed together from parts of different animals, freezing it in stone. Across the top, Celestia's foe was the sister herself, armored and with sinister-looking eyes, and Celestia was sealing her within the moon.

"Hooey," Trixie said to herself. "All of it, just a load of hooey…"

She took a bite of her porridge and choked on it in alarm as a doorbell rang out of nowhere. The ring was deafening, and seemed to shake the walls and floors with its resonance. It was only as that single chilling note started fading away that Trixie remembered she didn't even have a doorbell.

She barely had an instant to comprehend this before she heard her front door swing open violently with a loud bang. Following this were heavy and slow footsteps, accompanied by the jangling of heavy bits of metal, and something immense scraping along the ground.

Trixie was absolutely frozen in fear for the almost full minute it took for these sounds to make their way up the stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom. When her door slowly unlocked from the outside, she dropped her bowl of porridge and shrank into her chair, as if trying to blend in with it.

The doorknob turned, and Trixie's little pink fire fizzled out. As the door burst open, the fire flared back to life, a roaring flame of eerie blue-white, and a similarly glowing figure stood in the doorway.

It was a large and tall creature, hunched over and dressed in a heavy white cloak, a hood pulled down low over its face. It was floating a few inches off the ground, but its large wings were chained to its body. Out of its huge billowing sleeves came a pair of talons, each grasping yet another chain.

Trixie's eyes were drawn to the chains, which wrapped around the apparition's arms, legs, and torso. They dragged along the ground far, far behind the mysterious figure. The length of the chains were comprised not only of links but also of padlocks and keys, heavy locked boxes and metal purses.

The thing and its chains were transparent, the walls and floors visible behind it. It hovered there in place, its shrouded head seeming to stare directly and intensely at Trixie, who was curled up and quivering in fear.

"Trixie," said the specter.

"Y-yes?" Trixie replied in a squeaky voice.

"I've been wanting to speak with you for a long, long time," the specter said emotionlessly.

"You have?" Trixie peeped. "…Do we know each other?"

"Trixie… it's me, Gilda."

The ghost lifted its talons and lowered its hood. There was Gilda's face, just as it had appeared on Trixie's knocker. She was thinner than she had been in life, her eyes sunken, her face lined deeply.

"Ah," Trixie said stiffly. "So it is."

Gilda grinned wryly. "So, gonna offer your old business partner a seat?"

"Oh. Um… yes, by all means. Have a seat." She nodded to her other chair.

The ghostly form of Gilda gently sank to the ground on all fours, and slowly walked across the room, pulling the huge length of chain along behind her. She stood in front of the fireplace, gathering up as much of the chain as she could into a single clump, then floated back up into the air and settled down in the chair opposite Trixie's.

"So… how have you been?" Trixie said nervously.

"Oh… sucky," Gilda said dispassionately. "Been on the move, nonstop."

"Travelling, the past seven years?"

"Yeah, seeing the world," Gilda said bitterly. "Seeing everything… travelling with the winds, never getting to sit still, just having to watch everything. Constantly on the move—not easy to do with all these chains on me, let me tell you."

"…Huh," said Trixie. "How about that?"

Gilda smiled. "You're trying to convince yourself that you're dreaming, aren't you?"

"I'm obviously dreaming," Trixie said firmly. "This isn't possible. I've had a fever as of late, and obviously it's giving me bad dreams. I just have to wait out this dreadful nightmare until it's over."

Gilda grinned deviously. "You're gonna be waiting a while for that, Trixie."

Trixie shivered.

"Yeah, I chill you to the bone, don't I?" Gilda taunted. "Just my presence, it shakes you down to your very soul. You think your mind could make up that feeling?" She leaned toward Trixie. "This is the real deal, partner," she said gravely. She grabbed clawfuls of her chains, rattling and jangling them loudly, staring at Trixie all the while with an eerily focused, unblinking stare.

"What are you doing?" Trixie said in alarm, her voice rising to a high pitch. "Why have you come here? Why are you bursting in and walking around in my house seven years after you died, Gilda?"

Gilda stared at her chains introspectively, rolling two links between her fingers. "The soul…" she said slowly, "is a social creature. The soul has the need to go out and be among its fellow souls. To learn… and grow… and share and turn to happiness…" She sighed. "And if the soul doesn't do that during life… it's condemned to get it done for all time after death. To walk among the souls of the earth, see all their pinpoints of light, to witness what it might have known… but is doomed not to know." She dropped her face into her talons.

"…And the chains?" Trixie said cautiously.

Gilda lifted her head and smirked wickedly at Trixie. "What, this old thing? I forged this chain myself." She started pulling it, displaying one link at a time, occasionally showing off a lockbox or a ring of keys. "For every act of lameness, another link, forged and girded, for me to carry. Every soul bears a chain… you know, seven years ago, the day I died, your chain was just as long and heavy as this one right here. You've kept working on it ever since…" Her menacing grin became broader and more sinister by the second. "Just imagine. Imagine the weight your soul is carrying right now. Oh, that is something to think about…"

Trixie shivered. "Gilda… please don't say such unsettling things. I thought you were my friend."

Gilda held a talon over her head, swinging a short length of chain in a circle. She flung the ghostly chain at Trixie, and it wrapped around the unicorn's neck, for Gilda to pull her closer.

"I am your friend," Gilda said coldly. "That's why I'm here. I don't know how or why I'm finally able to visit you in a shape you can understand, to speak with you and touch you… but I can. At last, I can pass along my warning."

"Warning?" Trixie whispered.

The ghost started floating up to the ceiling, her endless chain dangling beneath. "All our time together, it was said that you and I were kindred spirits. Why don't you take a look at my spirit and think about what that means for yours." She spread her arms, quivering with the weight and exhaustion, and sent Trixie a piercing glare.

"I… I just…" Trixie stammered, almost choking on the chain. "Surely you haven't come here from the grave… just to tell me I'm doomed just like you? Can't you offer me some reassurance?"

Gilda blinked slowly. "Oh, I would… I would. But there's nothing I can say. Nothing… nothing." She stared off into space. "Nothing."

After a few more seconds of contemplation, she swooped down on Trixie and lifted her up by the chains around her throat.

"Do you realize how much I missed?" Gilda wailed, her chains rattling as she shook Trixie back and forth. "Do you have any idea how great and awesome the world is, and all its people? I never did! I never stepped outside our counting house! And now I've passed into eternity and I have to watch everything I didn't get to see when I was alive. I can see it, but it's not mine! I can't have it! Because I wasted my life, squelched it away, and now it's gone. It's all gone." She dropped Trixie back into the chair, and Trixie spluttered as the chain tightened around her.

"But… you didn't waste your life," Trixie protested. "You were so good at business and economics. You built yourself a fortune out of nothing. That's not a waste!"

Gilda snorted and started laughing, sinking back into her seat.

"What?" Trixie demanded in horror.

"You talking about me, or about you?" Gilda chuckled.

Trixie slouched nervously and didn't answer. Gilda yanked on the chain still attached to Trixie, and Trixie braced herself in preparation for another hard tug on her throat, but instead the chain magically unwrapped itself and fell to the ground along with all the rest of Gilda's burden.

"Business," Gilda scoffed. "Business doesn't heal the heart of its scars, or bond the heart to that of other creatures. What I did with my career… that was no kind of life. Didn't amount to anything at all against the life I could have had." She sighed, and flung some of the chains over her shoulder absently. "Why did I do it, Trixie? Why did I spend all the time in my precious life with my eyes only on my paperwork and my mind only on the next two bits I could rub together? If I'd just looked out the window once, and seen the wide world around me, I… things might have been different."

Trixie was silent, and eyed the spirit with increasing unease. Eventually, she got up out of her seat and approached Gilda, lifting a hoof to offer a comforting touch.

Before she could, Gilda's talon shot out and gripped her forearm tightly. Trixie cried out in pain at the alarming pressure as the ghostly griffon's claw squeezed her harder and harder.

"My time here is almost over," Gilda said, in the same blank, emotionless voice as when she had first entered. "Listen to me carefully. I will tell you how you might escape what has happened to me."

"You told me—agh!—you told me there was no reassurance you could offer," said Trixie.

"And there isn't. Words are cheap. They won't change anything. But I've arranged for something that might speak to you more strongly."

Trixie sobbed, partly out of emotion but mostly from the pain. "That you would go to all this trouble to save me… I thank you. Tell me what I must do!"

Gilda let go of Trixie and started floating in a circle around her. "First comes the part where an old friend visits and warns you about the torment that lies across the veil," said the ghost. "Actually, that's the part we're doing right now, so we're a bit ahead of schedule."

"Yes," said Trixie, rubbing her pained forearm with her other hoof. "Go on."

"After that… comes the haunting."

Trixie froze. "…Isn't that also the part we're doing right now?"

"Who, me?" Gilda chuckled. "No… no. Me, I'm just a ghost. You will be haunted by an ancient spirit, something powerful and incomprehensible, who will start you on your journey. When that's done, a second spirit will come. Then a third."

Trixie gulped. "And… when should I expect them?"

"Oh, they'll be coming to you whenever they damn well want to," Gilda whispered smugly in Trixie's ear. "These are eldritch creatures who answer to nopony."

"I… I can't, Gilda," Trixie said shakily. "Just being haunted by you is nearly killing me. And what you're talking about sounds like something mortals were not meant to know. I won't be able to handle this."

"It's the only way to change your path," Gilda deadpanned.

Trixie shook her head. "It's not worth it."

"It is, and the arrangements have already been made, so suck it up."

Trixie glared. "I… no. I refuse." Her horn lit up, and she shot a burst of fireworks at the specter.

The explosion blinded Trixie, and when it cleared, Gilda's ghost was looking, in mild surprise, at a huge hole blown through her chest. As Trixie watched in horror, the hole mended itself, and Gilda was whole again, and looking up at Trixie with another malicious smirk.

"Oh, Trixie…" Gilda said in amusement. "Why would you do such a thing? You just had to make this happen the hard way, didn't you? Let me show you how that goes."

Trixie's eyes widened as Gilda lunged at her, the ghost's body colliding with hers and sending them both crashing through the window, flying far through the air and tumbling into the streets along with a mess of shattered glass.

Trixie moaned weakly in pain, laying on her side on the cobblestones. Though dazed and almost losing consciousness, she was quickly sobered by a sound like a whirling blade. Gilda was floating over her, starting to once again spin her chain around and around over her head.

"No, no, no…" Trixie said frantically.

Gilda swung her chain at Trixie, who rolled out of the way; the chain left scuff marks in the street. Trixie stood up and ran, but the ghost pursued, wielding a length of chain in each hand, slashing at Trixie again and again. Trixie looked over her shoulder and shot a powerful blast of magical energy as she ran, which singed the specter down to the bone, but new skin and feathers quickly grew back over her grisly exposed skull.

Trixie rounded a corner at the end of the block before Gilda managed to hook a chain around one of her hind hooves. With a tug of the chain, Trixie was flat on her belly. She flipped herself over just in time to see Gilda grab her and deliver a two-footed kick to her chest, sending her flying in an arc before landing hard face-down in the streets.

Gilda glided over to Trixie and pulled her up by the chin, forcing her to look out at the streets. "Are you seeing this?" she whispered. "Trixie, do you see what I see?"

Trixie gasped. The streets were teeming with ghosts, the ghosts of all sorts of creatures, wandering back and forth, wailing and moaning in agonized sorrow. All glowed blue just like Gilda, all were shrouded in white cloaks, and all bore heavy burdens.

A stern-faced earth pony stallion with thick eyebrows and a stubbly beard bore a gold ring around his neck, and dragged along a chain of other rings, each one a different size. He walked along at a slow pace, looking resigned and tired. A tall and graceful unicorn stallion was covered in roses, their thorns digging into his flesh, and smothered in what appeared to be hot cake frosting. This ghost spun through the air, shrieking in panic as he continually tried in vain to shake off the thorns and the sticky goo.

Trixie took particular note of one ghost. "Is that Suri?" she exclaimed in surprise.

In the direction Trixie was looking so intently, a homeless mare dressed in rags and tatters sat on the curb, holding an infant foal in equally-ratty swaddling clothes. These were the only flesh-and-blood beings on the street besides Trixie herself, and the mare was staring at Trixie with a bewildered expression. She clearly had no perception of any of the ghosts, including the one who was circling her frantically, trying to catch her attention—the ghost Trixie had recognized.

"Why can't I help you?" wailed the ghost, a mare restrained by a straitjacket made of a dazzling purple fabric. "I know I did wrong before, but I just want to make you feel better, mkay? Please notice me and let me ease your suffering!"

Trixie frowned deeply and looked up. "Gilda, what is…?" She cried out in surprise as she realized Gilda was rising far off into the sky.

"The time has come for me to move on!" Gilda called to her. "Your visit from the three spirits has already been set in motion. This is for your own good, Trixie. It's your one and only last chance. Don't blow this for yourself!"

"Gilda!" Trixie cried, but the ghostly griffon had already disappeared among the other tortured souls and the stars above.

Trixie stood alone, shivering in the cold winter's night in just her nightgown, a cold that seemed heightened by the dozens and dozens of spirits sailing all around. One spirit in particular, when it rounded the corner, made her blood run even colder. It was a massive sea serpent with a voluminous hairstyle and mustache, wrapped in anchors and wrecking balls.

"Oh, what a world!" the ghost sobbed. "What a world!"

Clutching his heart, the serpent spun and thrashed, hurling his body to the ground, and Trixie screamed and squeezed her eyes shut as she realized the gargantuan monster was going to crush her beneath its coils.

Nothing happened, and all the wailing and moaning suddenly went silent. Trixie opened her eyes, and found that she was completely alone in the dark and quiet streets. Even the mare with the baby had disappeared from the curb.

The absolute silence stung Trixie's ears as much as the freezing air did. There wasn't even the sound of wind. As Trixie looked around in confusion, trying to make sense of something, she happened to glance up at the full moon. The crater formation on the moon's surface, shaped vaguely like a unicorn's head… simply vanished, leaving the moon an orb of pure white. Trixie stepped backward, dumbfounded.

She was so transfixed by the moon, easily the most confusing thing she had seen this night, that she didn't notice the cloud of eerie purple smoke rising behind her back. The smoke solidified into a towering black alicorn with sharp-edged wings, clad in periwinkle armor. Her mane and tail consisted of the flowing purple smoke, and as she opened her purple-rimmed eyes, her pupils narrowed into catlike slits.

Slowly and silently, this frightening creature stepped up to Trixie, her fanged mouth coming up to Trixie's ear. "What has captured your attention so fully?" she whispered.

Trixie shrieked and whirled around, her jaw going slack and her neck craning up to look at the huge and otherworldly mare.

"Eyeing the moon, are we?" she said casually. "I can understand that…" The stranger grinned. "After all these centuries it still looks good."

"Are you…" Trixie began, unable to believe the words she was saying. "You're Nightmare Moon."

"Am I?" she said in genuine surprise. She examined herself. "Oh… yes, I suppose I am. I've been dormant and imprisoned for so long… I had almost forgotten…"

"…Are you here to bring about eternal night?" Trixie said in horror.

Nightmare Moon smirked. "No… no, not this night. This night I'm here for you, poor doomed Trixie."

"You are the spirit who was to visit me?" Trixie said slowly.

"Indeed," said Nightmare Moon. "This evening I am to guide you through Hearth's Warming Eves of the past."

"The past?" Trixie muttered. "You mean… the distant past, when the holiday was born?"

"No," said Nightmare Moon. "Your past."

Trixie recoiled, her eyes wide in horror, much to Nightmare Moon's amusement.

"Take my hoof," said the ancient spirit, holding it out to Trixie.

"I… I don't know if I want…" Trixie muttered.

"You'll take my hoof, and you'll see what I was called to show you," Nightmare Moon commanded. "Do it now."

Trixie slowly and shakily reached up, placing her hoof atop that of the enormous alicorn.

The moment she did, the light and the air seemed to bend together, forming a tunnel of space and energy which sucked Trixie and the spirit through some interminable distance, passing through miles and days in the blink of an eye.

Author's Note

Looking back after all this time, one of my favorite parts of this story was taking all the words of Jacob Marley and turning them into something Gilda might say, though I didn't go crazy with that apart from the use of the word "lameness". After that... I was determined to shake things up once in a while, and I felt like, well... if Scrooge was a magic-user of some sort, he would totally engage in a fight with Marley's ghost. An awesome action sequence makes everything better.

Another cool thing - really, this is probably my favorite chapter as far as spicy ideas I had - I pondered the fact that lockboxes are a feature of Marley's chains, reflecting his money-hoarding lifestyle, and I thought about what kind of things other sinners might have in their chains. So I plucked out a couple of antagonists and gave them something karmic to carry around. But then, of course, the ghosts seem to have a "what a world!" mentality, so I couldn't resist bringing in Steven Magnet. Hehe.

Shadows at Dawn

Nightmare Moon led the nightgown-clad Trixie down a snowy dirt road lined with tall pines, soft snowflakes falling all around them.

"Wasn't it the middle of the night a second ago?" Trixie said in concern, peering up at the daylight.

"You are seeing this road as it was many years ago," the spirit replied. "You do know this road, I take it?"

"Know it?" Trixie marveled. "I know it better than I know the details of my own face."

"Is that so? And yet, this is the first time in many years that your thoughts have drifted to this place, is it not?"

"I… that is correct…" Trixie muttered, slowing her pace.

Nightmare Moon tilted her head and peered at Trixie with interest. "Truly? Are you crying already?"

"No," Trixie said firmly, brushing a tear away from her lined and aged face. "I… I'm not." She paused for a moment, then snapped her head up toward Nightmare Moon in alarm. "What do you mean 'already'?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing, nothing at all," she said hastily. "Let us proceed."

Trixie followed, but paused. "Erm… won't the ponies in the village notice when Nightmare Moon comes casually walking down the road?"

"These are scenes from the past," Nightmare Moon replied calmly. "We have no power to alter them. We will not be seen. Keep up with me, won't you?"

Trixie quickened her pace to catch up to the dark mare. They walked over a hill, and came upon a quaint little village, the sight of which made Trixie's heart clench up, her freezing-cold eyes well up with steaming tears.

They walked down the main street, indeed unnoticed by everyone they came across. A freckled yellow earth pony with lime-green eyes and hair hopped along the sidewalks in a zig-zagging pattern. She stopped at a cart carrying multicolored, crystalline apples.

"Closing up shop for the day?" she chirped.

"Eeyup," said the huge red stallion behind the cart.

"One for the road?" she asked him flirtatiously, flipping him a coin.

He smiled and gave her a single apple.

"Aw, ain't you just a peach?" said the mare, winking at him. "Merry Hearth's Warming Eve, my good man."

She hopped away, nearly going into neck spasms when she saw a golden pegasus flying overhead, dressed in olive green and khaki, and carrying loads of travelling gear.

"Setting off on vacation, Miss Do?" the cheerful mare called out.

The pegasus halted in midair and turned to face her. "That's right. Merry Hearth's Warming Eve, Ms. Peachbottom. I'll see you when I get back."

"I look forward to it. Merry Hearth's Warming Eve."

"Ugh, it's constant, isn't it?" Trixie said bitterly. "Everywhere you go, it's 'Merry Hearth's Warming Eve', nonstop…"

As they continued down the street, a huge, sharp-toothed, monkey-like creature tipped his hat to a very tall and slender unicorn stallion with light brown fur, who was bundled up tightly in many layers of warm clothing.

"Perfect Hearth's Warming Eve, is it not?" the creature boomed in a thick accent. "A nice soft snowfall."

"Oh, indeed," said the stallion. "A lovely change from the weather we've been getting. The past few weeks, the wind has been whipping me like a rented mule." He turned his head to the mule who was standing nearby in the streets. "No offense."

"None taken," the mule drawled.

The huge hairy beast laughed. "Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, Mr. Trenderhoof."

"Yes, and also to you," said the unicorn, bowing.

Trixie scarcely paid attention to the scene unfolding, her eyes forward, waiting for it to come into view.

And it did. On the other end of the tiny village was a dock, set at the edge of a great lake, and on the other side of the lake was a massive stone castle.

"My old school," Trixie said in delight. "There she stands, as grand as ever." She frowned and looked over her shoulder. "I knew every one of those townsfolk. If this is the past, then that castle must be filled with…"

Nightmare Moon nodded. "Let us see." The coils of her mane wrapped around one of Trixie's legs, and she flew across the lake at a breakneck speed, carrying Trixie along with her.

Trixie shut her eyes tight as wind whipped at her face, and she peered out just in time to see that she and Nightmare Moon had just passed neatly through a closed window and were now in a school corridor.

Trixie adjusted her nightcap and stared in surprise at the frosty glass of the window. "Remarkable," she muttered.

A loud bell rang out, and several classroom doors opened. Nightmare Moon touched Trixie's face and directed her attention to one door in particular. An attractive young teacher stepped out, holding the door open for her students. "All right, my little ponies. Have fun with your families and I'll see you all after the break."

Fillies and colts in school uniforms started filing out, and Trixie held her breath, realizing what was coming. Sure enough, trailing behind her classmates, came Trixie's younger self. The little blue filly had a vacant and glum expression, dragging her hooves slightly.

"There you are," Trixie said sadly. "Why so morose, little one?"

A classmate came up alongside the young Trixie, a filly with a huge pink bow in her mane. "Howdy, Trixie," she said. "Stayin' here at school for the holiday again?"

"Yes," the young Trixie peeped, looking to the floor guiltily.

"Aw, I'm sorry," her friend said with a sympathetic pout. "I'm sure you'll get to be with your family soon."

Trixie sighed and kicked at the ground. "Oh, I don't know, Apple Bloom, I don't think they're ever going to want—"

Apple Bloom squealed in delight at the sight of two other fillies coming out of another room, and ran toward them. These three fillies pranced around each other, chattering eagerly.

"Apple Bloom!" said one, flapping her tiny wings in excitement. "You ready to go back to our hometown?"

"Yeah, I'm ready!" said Apple Bloom. "We'll spend time with our families and get all kinds of new chances to try and get our cutie marks!"

"Ooh, the boats are here!" a little white unicorn squeaked. The three fillies scampered down the hall, as did many others, leaving the young Trixie alone and seeming very small in the huge corridors.

Trixie stepped forward and looked into the eyes of her childhood self, who stared straight through her, unaware. "Why so sad?" the present-day Trixie said gently. "You get your dorm room to yourself, and get to spend your days reading. You have all the friends and all the worlds you need there in the books. You're happy, aren't you? I know you are."

The young Trixie wandered off, and Nightmare Moon beheld the other with interest. "Do you talk to yourself often?" she asked.

"Well, how often do I get to look myself in the face?" Trixie said with a wry smile, which quickly vanished and gave way to a very deep frown as she watched her past self vanish around a corner. "It seems my school days weren't quite the adventure I remembered."

"Perhaps not," Nightmare Moon agreed. "Let us see another Hearth's Warming Eve here at this school."

The air rippled around them, and dissolved into a new scene. Trixie and Nightmare Moon were now standing in a dormitory common room, decorated with gold and red banners. The young Trixie was sitting in a large chair by the fireplace, reading a book. Trixie was unsurprised, until she took another look and realized that the filly in the chair was a few years older than the one she had seen a few seconds ago.

"Oh my," she breathed.

An older Apple Bloom came down the stairs, bundled up for winter and carrying a suitcase. "Hey, Trixie," she said casually. She paused, and noticed a large black case next to Trixie's chair. Her eyes lit up. "Trixie… are you finally gettin' to go home?"

"I am," the young Trixie said proudly. "My father is picking me up at the front gate."

Apple Bloom looked over Trixie's shoulder and smiled. "Actually, I think they're gonna do ya one better…"

The door to the common room burst open, and in scampered a tiny filly, so bundled up against the cold weather, in clothes far too big for her, that her legs and face were scarcely visible. Only an excited pair of magenta eyes could be seen, peering out from behind her tightly-bundled scarf and hood.

The present-day Trixie's jaw dropped as the filly scurried past her and into the embrace of her younger self. "Big sister!" the tiny filly squealed.

"Oh, is it really you?" the young Trixie breathed, reaching out with a pale pink magic aura to uncover the filly's face. Lowering the little one's hood revealed a wild electric-blue mane—attempts had been made to tame it, but it simply could not be done.

"Vinyl," the adult Trixie wailed in quiet anguish.

"Oh, Vinyl," her young double cooed. "Look how big you've gotten."

"I'm here to take you home, big sister," little Vinyl Scratch peeped. "Father is waiting for us. I think he'll be very happy to see you. He's so much nicer than he used to be. Come along!"

Trixie laughed and lifted her trunk, levitating it over her head as she trotted out into the halls of the great school, Vinyl hopping along happily at her side. Trixie couldn't stop smiling, nor take her eyes off her little sister as they walked side by side. She was surprised, then, to realize that a stern-faced mare was standing in her path, draped in an elegant purple robe.

"Oh!" Trixie said in alarm. "Ms. Harshwhinny…"

"Yes, hello Miss Trixie," the schoolmaster said in a clipped tone. "It has come to my attention that you'll be leaving this fine institution for good."

"Yes, Headmistress," Trixie said meekly.

"Marvelous," she said briskly. "You're an exceptional student, Miss Trixie. You immerse yourself fully in your studies, taking no time for friends or other frivolous pursuits. That trait will suit you well in the real world. I've taken the liberty of recommending you as an apprentice to a number of business owners I know in Canterlot."

"Oh my," said Trixie in surprise. "Thank you, ma'am, for taking the trouble…"

"Oh, no trouble at all," said Ms. Harshwhinny. "The world needs more ponies like you and I. Your attitude will take you far in life."

"…Thank you," Trixie said quietly.

"Off with you, then. Enjoy your brief holiday. I daresay it will be only a matter of days before you are contacted for apprenticeship."

The adult Trixie and Nightmare Moon watched the teenaged filly and her little sister walk off into the distance.

"Sometimes, I wish Ms. Harshwhinny had never made those recommendations," Trixie remarked. "I thought at the time that this day would mean a reconciliation with our father, a chance to see my sister every day. It was not so. After a few short days, I was apprenticed, and since then, I've never left Canterlot. I never saw Vinyl again."

"Indeed," Nightmare Moon whispered. "You never got to see her grow into a mare. Though I do believe she managed to bear foals before her untimely death, correct?"

"Just one foal," Trixie corrected. "My niece, Cadance, is all that remains of my sister."

"Your niece," Nightmare Moon repeated. "Your sister's daughter, your one and only remnant of your family. The one whom you invited to go to hell."

Trixie flinched. At that very moment, her younger self was fading from sight, and in a moment, the school hall had been replaced by the snowy streets of Canterlot. It was dark, but Hearth's Warming Eve lanterns were set up everywhere, bathing the street in red and gold light.

Nightmare Moon led Trixie to a warehouse, one which was normally very plain and nondescript but this evening was covered in an almost absurd amount of tinsel, wreaths, and ornaments, placed in a gleefully haphazard array.

"Do you know this place?" Nightmare Moon inquired.

Trixie laughed. "Ah, this is where I was apprenticed. Oh, what good times await me beyond this door?"

Ghostlike, she walked right through the closed door, and into the expansive warehouse within, Nightmare Moon watching her carefully.

All over the warehouse, boxes of goods were being transported in and out on the backs of strong earth pony stallions, while pegasi flew back and forth carrying smaller parcels, aided by unicorns wrapping packages with their magic.

One pegasus in particular, a young mare, was flying around the factory at breathtaking speed, covering twice as much ground as any of the other workers, leaving a rainbow-colored trail behind her everywhere she went.

"Could that be…?" Trixie laughed. "It is! It's Rainbow Dash. Oh, what a character she was! And she worshipped me."

Rainbow stopped to hover over one of the unicorn workers, a blue mare with a silvery mane.

"Oh my," Trixie said gleefully. "I don't recall Rainbow Dash looking so young, let me… ha!"

Trixie looked into her other self's youthful face, examining it carefully and chuckling lightly as she touched the lines on her own face. "Well, hello, beautiful. Aren't you a cherry bomb? You feel so grown-up, don't you? Ah, but you're still just a child…"

The warehouse went still and quiet all of a sudden as a door opened. Two stern-faced pegasi walked in, and between them stood a third pegasus, older and sinisterly hunched, her face hidden in shadow.

"Greetings, employees," this pegasus said coldly. "Tonight, as I'm sure you're aware, is Hearth's Warming Eve. You may think this means you get a short break from your back-breaking labor; well, you're wrong. All you get is… THE NIGHT OFF!"

She stepped out into the open, revealing a widely smiling face and a pair of golden eyes which were skewed in two different directions.

"You get the night off! And you get the night off!" she shouted, waving her arms around wildly. "Everypony gets the night oooooooooff! Those of you with homes to go to—go! Run! Don't lose a single second with your loved ones! The rest of you, prepare yourselves for the finest Hearth's Warming celebration in all of Canterlot! Trixie, Rainbow Dash—clear up all this warehousey stuff and start setting up the PARTY!"

"You bet, Miss Derpy!" said Rainbow, hovering up into the air and saluting. She and the young Trixie darted off in different directions.

The present-day Trixie laughed out loud. "Well, if it isn't old Miss Derpy, back from the dead. This was one of the finest evenings of my life."

Nightmare Moon gave her a sinister, fanged smile. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it."

The boxes were piled up in the back alley, and in their stead, Rainbow hung strings of lights around the warehouse's rafters and support beams, while Trixie magically set up all the holiday trees and their ornaments.

The two pegasi who had been flanking Derpy opened the warehouse doors wide, and over the course of the next hour, as Rainbow and Trixie swept and then mopped the floors, ponies started filing in, ponies of all sorts and all ages, from all walks of life.

A band was set up, consisting of a piano, harp, and sousaphone, and the center of the warehouse was roped off into a dance floor, though it remained empty as ponies instead lingered around the edges of the huge room, socializing and gathering food from the buffet table, enjoying cakes and pies and great frothy tankards of beer.

Derpy flittered around the party, deceptively spry for her age, swooping down on a very tall and thin white unicorn. "Hellooooo, Miss Fleur!" she said wildly, hitting the floor and skidding past her target.

"My greetings, Miss Derpy," the beautiful mare replied, draping her body across a blond stallion with a mustache and goatee. "I received your package. Right on time, as usual. Your service is masterful."

"Aw, shucks, thank you," said Derpy, blushing red. "Say, have you met my husband?" She scooped a plain brown stallion out from the crowd. "Honey, this is Fleur, one of our clients. Fleur, I'd like you to meet my husband, the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Fleur said with interest. "Doctor—?"

"Don't," Derpy's husband interrupted, amused. "Don't even. It's just 'the Doctor'."

"Ah," said Fleur. "Well, I can certainly understand that. My own companion, after all, is known simply as 'the Dude'."

The Doctor chuckled and held out his hoof to shake. "Well, smashing to meet you. The Dude, is it?"

"Yeah," said the stallion, wrapping one arm around Fleur and shaking the Doctor's hoof with the other. "The Dude, or Duder, His Dudeness, El Duderino, you know, whatever you wanna call me."

Derpy giggled. "How funny. Well, that's enough of this music. Cheese!"

A stallion zipped out of the crowd and appeared at her side as if by magic. He had an orange coat and a wildly curly brown mane, and was dressed in a much-used shirt with a high collar, gray with numerous patches.

"Go up there and get this done right for us!" Derpy instructed.

"You got it, Aunt Derpy!" he chirped, and he zipped over to the stage, waved an arm to silence the band, and stood on his hind legs to properly grasp an accordion he had somehow acquired somewhere between Derpy and the stage. The crowd paused briefly, their attention caught by the cease in the music.

"Hey, everypony!" the young stallion exclaimed loudly. "Would you like to polka?"

On that last word, he launched into a polka interlude, and the rest of the band backed him up. Satisfied and more than a little entertained, the partygoers went back to their meals and conversations, and several of them flocked to the dance floor, including Derpy and the Doctor, who engaged in a very fancy and elaborate dance together, involving deft movement of the hind hooves flailing around seemingly independent of the ponies' bodies, and an elaborate toss, leaving Derpy to swoop and spin in the air before daintily drifting back down into the Doctor's arms like a falling leaf.

Just as the crowd was ready to start applauding the impressive dance, a pegasus mare with a shocking pink-and-green striped mane stepped onto the floor and started breakdancing, spinning on her head and gyrating across the floor. The partygoers whooped and cheered, fired up, as Cheese's polka medley of nostalgically familiar songs continued.

"Trixie!"

The young Trixie managed to tear her eyes away from the handsome singer and turned her head toward Rainbow Dash, who was flying out of the crowd, escorting a familiar, though much younger, sleepy-eyed griffon.

"Trixie, have you met Gilda?" Rainbow said. "An old friend of mine from the Filly Scouts. She works for Prim Hemline."

"Ah, Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you," Trixie said amiably, extending a hoof.

"You too," the griffon replied, shaking it with her talon.

"So, Prim, eh?" said Trixie, scanning the party for the tall, stern-faced mare. "How do you like working for her?"

"Oh, she's sharp, she's real sharp," Gilda drawled. "Real ruthless and savvy businesspony."

Trixie spotted her; apparently, she had struck a conversation with Fleur and the Dude.

"How about Derpy?" Gilda continued. "She good?"

"Mmm, she's a marvelous employer," Trixie said enthusiastically. "It's like… I can't quite explain, but it's rather like we're not just her staff, we're also her friends. That kind of energy is quite the environment in which to work. She has the power to change the atmosphere of the workplace, and she chooses to make it happy at all times. Wonderful to be here, truly."

The older Trixie, standing a few feet behind them with Nightmare Moon at her side, looked taken aback. "Did I say that?" she demanded.

"So it would appear," Nightmare Moon replied with interest.

Trixie sighed, and the spirit looked down at her.

"Something you'd like to share, Trixie?"

"It's just… I wish I could take this moment to say a few words to Twilight Sparkle and those diamond dog boys," Trixie muttered.

Derpy approached the young Trixie, looking extremely tipsy considering her deft dancing just a few moments earlier. "Trixie, are you trying to butter me up?" she teased, giving her apprentice a tight hug. "That's the thing, you know? No matter how much your business is struggling, no matter how urgently you need to get things done, if nopony likes you, what's even the point of it all? Now, Gilda…"

The old mare turned a single stern eye to Gilda (her other eye remained firmly fixed on the fizzy drink she was holding). "Now, Gilda, your employer and I don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, which is why I don't mind telling her she could stand to loosen up a little."

"Oh, I don't know," Gilda said with a smirk. "Sounds like you're not too good at cracking down on actual business around here."

"Well, I could point out that regardless of how much fun we're having, the job gets done," Trixie said slyly.

"It does indeed!" Derpy beamed. "Well said, my girl. Has Prim ever received a late shipment from me?"

Gilda shrugged. "Apparently not."

Derpy melted back into the crowd for some further mingling. The present-day Trixie smiled at her back as she watched her go. "A very powerful figure in my life was old Miss Derpy…"

"And yet I can't help but notice you took your schoolmaster's advice over hers," Nightmare Moon observed.

Trixie flinched, the spirit's remarks having once more hit her far too close to home. "Well, Headmistress Harshwhiny's advice was all I had left after… after…" Her eyes drifted toward the stage.

The polka quickly increased in tempo at that moment, catching the attention of the younger Trixie, who looked up at the stage. The accordionist made eye contact with her… and did not break it even once throughout the next song on the medley.

The polka finished in an explosion of sound and showers of confetti. The moment the last note was played, the curly-haired stallion zipped off the stage and joined Derpy on the dance floor. In short order, the band finished waving and nodding to the cheering party guests and began playing a slow and gentle waltz.

"That was amazing, my boy!" Derpy chirped. "You always make me so proud. Trixie, you remember Cheese Sandwich, don't you?"

"Of course I do," the young apprentice laughed. "Fantastic polka, as always."

"Ah, it was nothing, Miss Trixie," Cheese said modestly. He offered his hoof to her. "So, how about a waltz?"

She smiled. "Not nearly as much fun as a polka, but for you… anything."

In perfect unison, they stepped onto the dance floor, seamlessly blending in with all the other waltzing couples.

Much to Trixie's disappointment, this scene quickly faded, replaced by a moment much later that night, where the few apprentices who had remained behind for the party were settling into their bunks.

"Oh, Rainbow Dash?" said Trixie, lying flat on her back and speaking to the bunk above hers.

Rainbow's upside-down head quickly dipped over the edge of the top bunk. "Yeah, Trix?"

"Thank you so much for introducing me to Gilda. As it turns out, she and I have a lot in common—including a few small business ideas. We might go together in an investment of some sort."

Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Trixie, come on, who cares about business deals you're making with Gilda? Let's talk about you with Miss Derpy's nephew, huh?" She winked and grinned mischievously.

Trixie blushed deeply. "Oh, please, what's to tell? Everypony knows I've always been… fond of Mr. Cheese. What more do you need to know?"

Another apprentice burst out laughing from across the room. "That's right," she said deviously. "While Trixie's going into a new business, Cheese is getting all up in her business. Her lady-business!"

"Stick a sock in it, Lightning Dust!" said Rainbow, wadding up a piece of parchment and tossing it at the other; it bounced off of her head, leaving Lightning Dust unharmed but indignant. "You're just jealous that life is giving Trixie the big piece of the pie."

Trixie laughed. "Things do look like they're going well, Rainbow Dash. Very well indeed."

Nightmare Moon looked up, seemingly at the ceiling. "Really?" she asked. "No, no… we've got time."

"What was that?" the present-day Trixie asked cautiously.

"Not talking to you," Nightmare Moon said casually. The scene dissolved and was once again replaced by another.

It was a small, square park in the middle of the city. The ground was covered in a layer of snow, and more flakes were falling, thick and heavy.

Cheese stood in the center of the park, wearing an impeccably nice suit, black and shiny, beneath his winter coat. Trixie stood at his side, wearing a black dress and a veil that covered her face; she was using her magic to absent-mindedly shred the veil.

"Well…" Cheese was saying, slowly and sadly. "I guess some good came from this particular Hearth's Warming Eve… got you walking around in the light of day for once."

The young Trixie frowned deeply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just know there are other things you would rather have been doing than coming out to mourn with me."

She glared at him. "Cheese, if you have something to say to me, say it. You know why I work so hard, don't you?" She waved an arm, gesturing to the snowy city. "I have no desire to end up homeless in the wintry streets, to starve to death in a ditch somewhere without even a name for my headstone. Poverty is such a dreadful thing, everypony knows this, so why do we condemn those who try their absolute hardest to avoid it?"

"I don't condemn you," Cheese said quietly. "I think you've just forgotten your intent. You were supposed to be building a life for us. That's why we've been working so hard, but you… you've lost sight of anything else but work. We're gotten to where we needed to be, but you're still going. You're…" He swallowed hard, fearfully. "You're like a maniac. You scare me, Trixie."

Trixie's lip thinned sternly. "I just want us to have a life together. I only thought that the better I could make that life… Well, you know I'm doing it all for you." He didn't respond, and her eyes widened. "You know that, don't you?"

He remained silent and contemplative for a few moments. "No," he admitted. "No, I don't know that."

Trixie stared back at him, struck mute.

"We said we'd get married when we were financially secure," Cheese continued. "And now that we've achieved that, I can see that going after that goal changed what you really want out of life. So… I've gotta do the right thing. I'm gonna go ahead and break off our engagement."

Trixie fumed, appalled. "Did I ask you to break off our engagement?"

Cheese suddenly looked fierce, shooting her a glare with intensity enough to match her own. "You and me. If we had just met, you where you are, and me where I am, would you still want me? Would Trixie the business baroness in her fancy new mansion ever wish to win the affection of poor but happy Cheese Sandwich?"

They continued to simply stare daggers at each other, ignoring the snow stinging their faces.

"Well?" Cheese demanded.

"I'm thinking," Trixie growled through gritted teeth.

Cheese sighed. "If you have to think about it… that's all I need to know. You're not the same mare I proposed to all those Hearth's Warming Eves ago. You want to marry me now because you're obligated to. I'm taking away that obligation. You're off the hook."

"This isn't what I want," Trixie said dangerously.

"Well, I hope you find what you do want," Cheese replied, remaining peaceful and calm. "I just know that I'm not a part of that picture. So… I'm going. Good luck, and goodbye." He turned and started trudging away through the snow, before halting and giving her a sidelong look over his shoulder. "I love you, Trixie."

Seconds later, he was gone. Trixie stared in his direction, still and expressionless, doing nothing but slowly blinking the snow out of her eyes.

The elder Trixie stepped forward to look her younger self in the face, the aged and lined nightgown-clad pony meeting the eye of the youthful mourner who could not see her.

"Why didn't you go after him?" the elder Trixie muttered softly. "Why?" Her lip trembled, and she shut her eyes tight but wasn't able to stop the torrent of tears from escaping. "I hate you," she informed her younger self in a barely-audible rasp. "Oh, how I hate you!"

Oblivious to her future self's agony, the young Trixie hung her head and wandered away. The one who remained continued shaking and quivering with sobs.

"Well!" Nightmare Moon remarked dryly after a few moments. "That's quite a punch to the gut, isn't it? No wonder you hate Hearth's Warming Eve so much. Lost your favorite mentor and her delightful catch of a nephew on the same day. That's got to sting…"

Trixie stared up at the spirit with tired, pained eyes. "D-don't mock me, Nightmare Moon. Please?"

Nightmare Moon stared back at her serenely.

"I… I… I've seen enough," Trixie stammered, swallowing hard. "Can we end this journey now?"

Nightmare Moon's eyes slowly closed, stayed that way for several seconds, then just as slowly opened again. "I think there's one more Hearth's Warming Eve you need to see. One that… could have been yours."

Trixie went pale. "No," she pleaded, as the scene started changing. "No!"

She tried to close her eyes and ignore it, but found she couldn't hold back her morbid curiosity and took a peek. Her eyes opened completely at the confused realization that she was still in the very same park.

Near her was an attractive earth pony mare, cream-colored with a well-kept minty-blue mane, and Nightmare Moon motioned for Trixie to take notice of this pony.

The mare was playing with two little twins: one a pegasus, one a unicorn, but moving as if one mind, zipping in circles around their enthusiastic mother before breaking out in hysterical giggles and rushing off to play in the snow, while the mare looked on with a smile.

"What is this? Who is she?" Trixie asked.

"Just… take careful heed," Nightmare Moon said simply.

Trixie did so, trying to notice some feature of the mare that would clue her in as to why this stranger was the subject of the scene. All she managed to conclude was that the mare was beginning to show signs of age with lines on her face very much like Trixie's own, but less pronounced.

Trixie managed to piece the answer together a few moments later as a taxicarriage pulled up to the park and its passenger stepped out, looking for all the world like the happiest pony on earth, and giving himself all the fanfare of a debutante. It was Cheese, his clothes as used and faded as ever, and with a face to match, handsomely marked with laugh lines and crow's feet.

"DADDY!" the twin foals shrieked, taking huge flying leaps at him and grasping him around the neck.

"Whoa-ho-ho!" he laughed, nuzzling them with his face. "Where'd you little pests come from?"

"Pound Cake, Pumpkin Cake, don't jump on Daddy," the cream-colored mare said gently.

"Or do," Cheese said mischievously, "because Daddy brought Hearth's Warming Eve presents for you!" Seemingly from nowhere, he produced two wrapped presents, and the two babies snatched them and zipped back into the park, yelling "WHEEEEEE!"

With surprisingly-developed wing speed and magic, they tore open their presents and began playing. Pound Cake's toy was a fantastic mythical flying machine made of wood, complete with propellers that spun when the toy was pushed through the air; Pound quickly began flying all over the park with the machine held over his head. Pumpkin Cake had received a plush doll of a white-furred, blond-maned unicorn princess, and hugged it tightly, rocking it back and forth.

Cheese let out a laugh at the children's joy. "Hey there, Coco," he finally said to his wife, giving her a kiss.

"Mmm," she replied sweetly. "Merry Hearth's Warming Eve, sweetheart."

The two of them walked along the edges of the park, keeping an eye on their children as they frolicked with other little foals in the park.

"Darling, you'll never guess who I ran into today," Coco said conversationally.

Cheese thought for a moment. "You're probably right," he finally said. "Why don't you just tell me?"

Coco giggled, then looked nervous, and spoke carefully. "It… it was your old friend, Trixie."

Cheese was silent and expressionless for a long moment. "Yeah?" he finally said. "How's she doing?"

"Mm, she's seen better days," Coco said grimly. "Her business partner has fallen terribly ill, so I hear. She may be on her deathbed this very night."

"Oh," Cheese said sadly. "Poor Gilda… poor Trixie. I don't know if she still knows anypony else from our old lives… or anypony at all. Gilda was all she had." He hung his head. "She must be so alone."

"Darling…" said Coco, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I know you still carry feelings of guilt, but… she isn't your responsibility."

Cheese solemnly raised his head upright once again. "No," he agreed gravely. "No, she isn't. She's independent enough that she can seek her own happiness… or not."

The scene faded away into darkness. Nightmare Moon and Trixie were now nowhere at all, just two strangely well-lit figures in a void of blackness and falling snow.

"I want to go home, Nightmare Moon," Trixie said shakily.

Nightmare Moon smirked. "Can you go home again after all you've seen?"

Trixie let out a sobbing gasp. "Why have you done this to me? What is the gain?"

"Why have I?" Nightmare Moon demanded, her eyes flaring angrily with white light and energy surging from her flowing, shapeless mane. "All I've shown you are scenes from your life, things which have already passed, exactly as they really happened. Do… not… blame… me." She leaned forward and lightning flashed, revealing that they were standing not in nothingness but among a sea of swirling, rolling clouds.

"Torment me no longer!" Trixie cried desperately, blasting Nightmare Moon in the chest with a beam of magic.

Nightmare Moon glanced interestedly at the scorch mark on her breastplate. "You know," she said wryly, "if you're going to keep doing that to every spirit you come across, it's going to be a very long night for you."

Her fanged mouth opened wide as if to swallow Trixie's head whole.

Abruptly, Trixie woke up in her bed, surrounded on all sides by her bed-curtains, completely blocking her from perceiving anything outside that small space. As she lie there flat on her back, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, she heard a clock chime to mark a quarter past the hour.

"A dream…" she said frantically. "Of course. It was all a dream."

In moments, she had fallen back to sleep, not conscious of the deep rumbling laughter echoing just outside.

Author's Note

Yep, really went crazy in my efforts to put every single character in the series into the story. Started with established Christmas Carol characters, and then, well, did a lot of sprinkling and scattering from there. I'd originally intended Apple Bloom to be greeted by Applejack, Big Mac, Granny, and Winona, until I realized it would be odd to keep that family together after all the randomly-constructed families I'd put together everywhere else, so those four can be found elsewhere.

I'm almost sorry that I made Vinyl talk. I don't know if anyone had ever thought of "silent Vinyl" before that became her canon portrayal, but now it's hard to imagine her any other way. On a similar subject... who would ever have guessed that the Doctor and the Dude would actually interact? Crazy.

Cheese's performance was meant to emulate the polka medleys that Weird Al includes on all of his albums, this one made up of some of my favorite songs from the 50s and 60s. The fanfiction.net version originally included the lyrics, but real song lyrics are against the guidelines around here. Of course, they're also against the guidelines on Fanfiction, but, pfft, like that's ever been enforced there. Around here I get the feeling that the guidelines are more like actual rules, so I cut the lyrics, and it looks like the story still works without them. Well, mostly.

In the Light of Day

Trixie once again opened her eyes rapidly, frantically, her heart pounding. The first thing she was aware of was a series of wheezy guffaws.

"Last night wasn't a dream at all, was it?" she said bitterly. She covered her face with her hooves. "Ugh… I still have two more spirits to speak to? I can't do this…" She fell backward and sighed. "Well… might as well get it over with."

She flung open her bed curtains and looked around, then slumped in exasperation. "…Of course."

Her bed was sitting in the middle of a seemingly endless landscape, covered in steep hills whose grass was colored with a bright blue checkerboard pattern. The sky was pink, and huge chunks of land were floating in the sky, most of them topped with houses or trees. Multicolored fish swam through the air, and a dozen pie tins sprouted out of the ground and floated off into space.

"Over here, Miss Trixie," said a deep male voice, before resuming its hysterical laughter.

Trixie tentatively walked out into this odd setting and followed the source of the voice. There, on a sinister black-and-red throne on the top of a hill, was a strange creature with a snakelike body, the grayish head of a pony with a mismatched pair of horns, and similarly mismatched arms and legs. He was rolling with laughter on the throne, his body draped across the armrests, but as Trixie approached he straightened up and awaited her, looking down on her eagerly with the red pupils of his bulging, differently-sized eyes.

"Mele kalikimaka, my dear," he said smugly, bowing his head. "Do you know me? If not, it's time you did. I am Discord, once a spirit of chaos who ruled your nation, but tonight… your guide to the Hearth's Warming Eves of right now."

She merely stared at him, speechless.

"Enjoying my world of chaos?" he said brightly, spreading his arms and looking around at the bizarre landscape. "Hmm, I suppose I should have put some effort into making it a bit more festive. Here…" He snapped his fingers, and there was a faint rumbling sound, immediately followed by a loud WHUMP as a foot of snow instantly dropped from the sky to cover the land… and Trixie herself.

She shook the snow off of her head and back and stood knee-deep in it, staring at Discord incredulously.

"Ah, there we go," he said. There was no snow in a small radius around his throne. "Eggnog?" He offered Trixie a glass of the beverage, holding it in the tuft at the tip of his scaly red tail.

"Um… no thank you," she said, flinching away.

"Probably wise. It's got a bit of a kick." Discord threw the eggnog over his shoulder, where it sailed far off into the distance before exploding in midair in a huge fireball. Seconds later, various wreaths and baubles dropped down from the sky, but stopped before hitting the ground, floating eerily a few inches off the snow. Discord broke out laughing, then leaned toward Trixie, twisting his neck so he was looking at her upside-down. "You do know me."

She nodded. "From scripture. There are carvings of you on my mantel. But I would never have ventured that you were real."

"I'm as real as the plague," he said, thrusting out his chest proudly. "And I'm here just for you. Aren't you so lucky to have somepony looking out for you who cares enough to send me your way?" He bent down and pinched her cheek, then rolled with laughter some more.

"What, pray tell, is so funny?" Trixie demanded.

Discord fell silent, and thought about it for a moment, then stood up and stretched his arms. "Well, nothing in particular, but I have a role to play and I'm not going to do it halfway. With that in mind…"

He waved his arms, and in a flash of light he was dressed in an emerald-green robe, with a golden crown atop his head. "Touch my robe," he said melodramatically.

Trixie blinked. "Erm… okay…"

She touched the hem of the robe, and everything around them dissolved, including the robe itself. Discord grabbed Trixie by the hoof and led her through the void of blackness. Slowly, falling snow became visible, then gray clouds overhead, and gradually, the streets of Canterlot faded into view, and Discord and Trixie gently touched the ground.

Two snooty-looking ponies, a mare and a stallion, strolled through the snow with their noses thrust haughtily into the air. An elderly, balding pony crossed their path. "Well, hello," he said warmly.

The couple stared at the oldster in surprise.

"Hey! Hey there! You two!"

Even more surprised now, the two snooty ponies turned their heads to a high window, which was being wiped clean by a buck-toothed stallion wearing shabby clothes that were much too small for him.

"It's me, Hayseed Turnip Truck!" he drawled, waving to them excitedly. "Don't tell me y'all don't remember me, 'cause I sure as heckfire remember you. I cleaned y'all's windows, and I remember you seemed real nas."

The two stared dumbfounded for a moment, then smiled at the unkempt pony. "Yes, hello," said the stallion.

"So good to see you again," the mare added. "And merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, brother."

The window-washer beamed and waved to them once again. The pair nodded politely to the old man, and proceeded on their way. A border collie ran through the streets, bounding back and forth hyperactively before leaping upon the two ponies, who chuckled and agreeably gave the dog a little pat. The dog barked happily and darted away.

On the sidewalks, several merchants were closing down their booths. A large gray stallion with a red facial tattoo held a sprig of mistletoe over the head of a long-haired mare who was peddling crystal chalices, and wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively. She giggled and waved him off playfully. A lanky stallion with glasses offered a stone chicken statue to a bookseller in a pith helmet; she looked skeptical and guarded at first, but soon softened, accepting the gift with a grateful smile.

Discord led Trixie down another street. At a florist's shop, three mares were putting the finishing touches on huge flower arrangement. Two young unicorn colts dressed in patchy clothes and shabby old newsboy caps—one chubby and blue-gray, the other lanky and pale orange—stared up at the flowers with slack-jawed awe.

"Ooooh," the chubby, buck-toothed one said. "Those flower arrangements look…"

"Delicious!" the tall one slurred.

"Yeah!" the small one squealed, jumping up and down. "So delicious!"

The florists beamed at the boys appreciatively and set the new arrangement in the window. The two colts continued to stare at the flowers longingly, the taller one even starting to salivate, when suddenly they both inhaled deeply… a smell had caught their attention.

They wandered toward a bakery, which was set in the basement of a stone building; its windows were at street level, and numerous children were gathered there to smell the baking bread, including a spiny red teenaged dragon, and three little fillies with odd gossamer wings who wore black hooded jackets. Discord gestured toward the window, inviting Trixie to look closer.

Trixie nodded and slipped unnoticed through the small gathered crowd. Inside, a mustached griffon and an elderly mule were both mixing dough. A timer went ding, and the mule hastily went to the oven and produced several freshly-baked loaves of bread, setting them on the counter to cool.

The children started clamoring for the bread, to get as close to it as possible.

"Oh dear, Gustave," the mule warbled. "I don't think the children are quite content just smelling our wares. Let's show them some charity."

The griffon hesitated, then nodded his head. "Yes, of course, for ze children…"

"Ha!" the dragon barked. "Out of the way, shrimps…" He shoved his way past the other, smaller children as Gustave set a loaf of bread on the windowsill. The dragon cackled and reached for it, but at the last second a tiny white pegasus filly swooped down and snatched it right from underneath his claws, before zipping off into the sky.

"HEY!" the dragon roared. He lowered his head menacingly. "That's mine…" he growled, spreading his wings and taking to the air in pursuit of the tiny filly.

Discord casually snapped his fingers, teleporting himself and Trixie into an alley. The filly landed, setting her bread on top of a barrel. She had nut-brown hair and wore glasses, which were old and worn like the rest of her attire, with a few scratches in the glass and tape around the rims. She remained hovering in the air, beating her wings at a remarkable speed, dipping down to a few inches off the ground to reassuringly pat the head of a small fluffy puppy who seemed too weak to even move, until it lifted its head at the scent of the fresh bread.

The dragon landed heavily at the mouth of the alley and stomped toward the filly. "Hey, you!" he snarled. "That's mine! Give it back!"

The filly glanced at him only for a second before frantically starting to slice the bread with extremely precise strikes of her wings, dividing it into ten perfect, equal pieces.

"One for me," she said under her breath in a rapid, high-pitched, and heavily accented voice. "One for my puppy. Two for my friends…"

The dragon halted in his advancing tracks. "Friends?"

Two fillies stepped out of the shadows: one a pure black alicorn with glasses and a purple mane held back by a headband, who was leading the other along by a hoof—a pale turquoise pegasus with a white mane and milky film over her eyes. Both were dressed in thin jackets, clearly providing insufficient protection from the cold.

"And the rest for you," the squeaky-voiced filly concluded, placing the remainder of the loaf in the dumbstruck dragon's claws before zipping back to her friends. The three fillies and the puppy each had a single slice, while the dragon had been given everything that remained, more than half.

He stared blankly at the bread, then back at the others, who were happily eating their slices. "No…" he said darkly. "I don't think so." He prowled forward.

Trixie winced, and took a step forward, ready to stand between the dragon and the children, but remembered that she was not truly present, and froze in place, staring helplessly.

The dragon took two slices of the loaf for himself and placed the rest on the fillies' makeshift table. "I can't take all of it," he mumbled. He turned his head away regretfully and trudged away. The little girls beamed at his retreating back.

Discord leaned over the bread and inhaled deeply, waving his hands to waft the scent into his face. "Mmm, do you smell that bread, Trixie?"

"Yes," Trixie said. "It's lovely bread."

"No, no, this is no ordinary good bread," Discord insisted. "This bread is a symphony, its flavor like a choir of angels. It's almost supernatural how good it is."

Trixie looked over the bread in confusion as the street urchins and their dog happily munched on it. "I only see and smell ordinary bread," she admitted. "What makes it so wondrous?"

"Because," Discord said solemnly, "for these children who are so enjoying it, it's the first meal they've had for a long time, and the last one they are likely to have for a while. That alone makes it… magical."

Trixie pondered that as Discord waved his arms, causing the scene to change with a rapid and loud wipe effect. Deep into her contemplation of Discord's words, it took her a long time to notice where they were now: a tiny kitchen, paint peeling off of its wooden walls. An orange pegasus stallion with spiky blue hair and a small purple dragon were setting a tablecloth over several slightly-warped tables that had been pushed together, taking up almost the entire room.

The three hooded and insect-winged fillies whom Trixie had seen observing the bakery burst in through the front door. "Dad, Dad, Dad!" they all shouted, overlapping one another and pulling back their hoods. All of them had strikingly attractive features and elaborate, vibrantly-colored hairstyles.

"Daddy!" one of them squeaked, lowering her hood to unleash a cascade of long blue hair. "Daddy, they're baking fresh bread! It's like, soooooo good!"

"Pfft, forget the bread," another drawled, also lowering her hood. She had a purple mane with aqua stripes, parted down the middle. "The florists had rows and rows of these arrangements."

"The bread was better," the first chirped.

"Those flower arrangements were pure art, perfectly arranged colors and flavors," the other deadpanned.

"You wouldn't know good bread if it jumped up and bit you!"

"Well, you're a yokel who can't appreciate anything sophisticated."

"Well, you're—"

"Knock it off, girls," said the third filly, finally removing her own hood and unleashing an impossibly voluminous and puffy mass of golden hair. She glared intently at the father. "Daddy, when will we get to have fresh bread and flavorful flower arrangements?"

The father sighed deeply, looking at the three little girls sadly. "I don't know, girls. Every year we try… and hope… but…"

"Adagio, Aria, Sonata, why don't y'all give your dad some room?" said a voice.

In a small door at the back of the room, an orange earth pony with a freckled face, dressed as a nursemaid, was emerging into the kitchen, followed by a somewhat chubby bronze-colored filly with a raspberry-hued mane, also freckled.

"Babs, take your sisters and get 'em all cozy by the fire," the mare said gently.

"You got it, Applejack," said the filly, escorting the three smaller fillies into the other room, closing the door behind them.

"I'll help ya with that, Mr. Flash," said the nursemaid, assisting the dragon and pegasus in laying out the tablecloth. "Still waitin' on Sunset?"

"Yeah," Flash said, looking worried. "I was expecting her a while ago…"

"And the lady of the house?"

"Still with Dinky at church, I guess. Dinky probably wanted to linger a while. You know her, invested in getting all she can from the experience."

"Yep, ain't that the truth," Applejack chuckled.

Applejack and the dragon finished setting the tablecloth, the best they could over the mish-mash of tables, and Flash returned to cooking, hastily rushing from one dish to another.

Trixie turned to Discord in surprise. "Did they say Dinky? This is Twilight Sparkle's house?"

Discord rang a great iron bell that had suddenly appeared above his head, which disappeared as soon as its sound faded. "It is indeed."

Trixie looked around the cramped room. "How many live in this tiny place?"

"Nine," said Discord. "Twilight, her husband, five daughters, and their two live-in servants. Used to be ten, but their eldest daughter recently gained an apprenticeship. That one has, however, been permitted to come home for the holiday, so tonight, ten will dine once again. That's a lot of mouths to feed."

"Indeed," Trixie muttered, perturbed. She examined Applejack. "How can they afford a nursemaid?"

"They can't," Discord said simply. "But without one, there would be nopony to mind the children. The mister and the missus both work, you see. And even if they didn't, without an extra body to mind the housework and the children on top of everything else, this place would be…" He looked around the bare walls. "Well, more of a pile of rubble than it is already. They keep on a nursemaid they can't afford to pay because they need all the help they can get maintaining their sanity in the face of their hard-knock life."

"Oh, Applejack," Flash said suddenly, turning to her. "Before I forget again, here… here's your holiday bonus."

He placed several copper bits on the dining table. Applejack stared at them, as appalled as if she had been offered a sack of teeth, then back to Flash in disbelief. "Mr. Flash, you must be jokin'. I can't take this! You know as well as I do that y'all can't afford to give me a bonus."

Flash smiled weakly. "Yes, but it's only fair that you be properly compensated for your services."

"Life ain't fair," Applejack countered, sliding the bits back toward him. "I reject your bonus. I ain't takin' it and there's no way you're gonna make me." She glared sternly.

He stared back with uncertainty, then lowered his head in submission. "All right." They both left the bits there on the table.

"And the dragon?" Trixie asked, watching the young dragon clear up the counter-space in the kitchen and stir a few of the cooking dishes with extreme speed and precision.

"Owes Miss Sparkle a life-debt," Discord replied. "They sort of adopted him. His efficiency as a personal assistant outweighs the extra cost of feeding him, plus they don't have to pay him. Oh, they've tried, but like Applejack, he knows they can't afford him and would never accept payment."

The front door opened, and a small teenage unicorn squeezed her way in. She had an amber-colored coat, and when she pulled off her heavy woolen hat she revealed a wild and fiery mane.

"Sunset!" Flash said eagerly, racing forward to hug her.

"Hey, Dad," she said emotionally, holding him tightly.

"Hi, Sunset," the young dragon said eagerly. "Take your hat and coat for you?"

"Thanks, Spike. Oh, I sure missed all of you…"

"SUNSET!"

The three fillies burst out of the back room and swarmed over Sunset, chattering eagerly at her, their voices overlapping.

"Hey, you little pests," Sunset chuckled. "Look at you all, so pretty…" She scanned the room. "So, where's Mom? Where's Dinky?"

"They should be home any minute, I hope," Flash said with a smile.

Babs had followed the trio out of the back room and now stood at the front window. "Hey, yeah, she's comin' around the corner."

Sunset smiled. "Great. Listen: tell her I'm not coming."

"What?" Flash said in alarm.

"Tell her they need me at work, so I won't be coming home for Hearth's Warming Eve," Sunset said with a devious smile.

"Bu that's… that's just… that's just mean!" Flash exclaimed.

"Oh, come on, it'll be a laugh riot," Sunset said jubilantly. She dove into a wardrobe, where Spike had placed her hat and coat, and shut herself inside it.

Moments later, Twilight came through the door, Dinky riding on her back, both of them in their worn winter attire. Without a word or a moment's hesitation, Spike rushed to lift Dinky down to the floor and help her with her clothes.

"Hey, Mom," Babs said casually.

Twilight beamed at her. "Hi, Babs. Mmm, hello Flash." She greeted her husband with a kiss. "Has Sunset come home?"

"Oh, um… Sunset's not coming home," Flash said unconvincingly, his eyes darting to the wardrobe.

"What?" Twilight breathed.

"Got held up at work," Flash said with a sheepish grin.

"Oh," Twilight said, her ears flopping glumly and her entire posture sinking. "Well, that's… that's too bad…"

Sunset burst out of the wardrobe. "I'm here!" she said frantically. "I'm here, I'm sorry, I wanted to trick you, I'm sorry, Dad was right, it was mean, I'm sorry, I'm here…" She embraced her mother, who responded with a relieved sigh, hugging her with both her arms and her magnificent wings.

"Dinky!" Sonata squealed happily. "Dinky, come see the figgy pudding!"

"It's exquisite…" Adagio gushed.

"…It's all right," Aria said dully.

Twilight looked around at the many dishes simmering on the stove, and her horn lit up with powerful magenta magic, setting to several cooking tasks all at once—including tending to the pudding that the three odd-winged fillies were dangling Dinky over.

"Go on, shoo," Applejack said firmly. "Get Dinky over by the fire."

"Okie!" Sonata chirped. "Come on, Dinky, let's go get nice and warm." She and the other two set Dinky down on the ground and started helping her to limp along toward the back room.

"Yeah," Aria huffed. "Let's give the grown-ups some space to fix what passes for a meal around here."

"Yes, and if we wish really, really hard, maybe we'll do better next year," Adagio sneered.

Babs, who had been following the four of them into the back room, raised her hoof to smack Adagio, Aria, and Sonata on the backs of their heads with a single sweeping strike. "Show some gratitude for what you've got, ya punks!" she snapped. "Could be a lot worse."

"What'd I say?" Sonata pouted, wounded.

The five little fillies shut the door to the back room behind themselves, leaving Twilight, Flash, Sunset, Applejack, and Spike to continue preparing the meal—mostly Twilight, multitasking magically.

"So how was Dinky at church?" Flash asked her.

"Same as always," Twilight said with a tiny smile. "Well-behaved, thoughtful, introspective. The stories of the scripture seem to really get her mind working hard, I can scarcely tell what's going on in that head of hers." She paused, carefully choosing her next words. "She wanted to stay as long as she possibly could so that other ponies could see her… could look upon her, and see that she's sick and disabled, and… and realize that they don't have it so bad."

Flash was struck silent for a moment. "She said that?"

"Mm-hmm," Twilight confirmed, choking up emotionally. "She's just so grown-up, Flash. You know?"

Babs pushed the door open once again. "Hey, Spike, can we get some help with the fireplace for a sec?"

"Certainly!" Spike said in delight. He entered the room, revealing all the fillies gathered around the fireplace. Spike reached into the fire, arranging the kindling so it could breathe more, and adding to the flames with the green fire of his breath. Sonata tried to get close, but flinched away at the heat.

Trixie stepped forward and peered into the room to get a good look at Dinky, sitting on the floor with her braced hind leg sticking out straight at her right side. Trixie's eyes drifted to Dinky's crutch, which the trio of little fillies had set against the wall just before carrying Dinky away.

It was just shy of an hour before the family sat down for dinner. Ten chairs were squeezed together, ten plates scarcely fitting around the table's edges, but each of them were clearly at peace and accustomed to such an arrangement; there wasn't a single complaint. Steam rose off the hot dishes at the center of the table: potatoes, applesauce, stew with chives and sage, spiced cider, a huge bowl of fig pudding, and the centerpiece, a meticulously-crafted grassy and flowery salad.

"Next year we'll have a real arrangement of poinsettias," Sunset vowed. "That's what you're supposed to eat on Hearth's Warming Eve. Now that I'm working, I'll make absolutely sure that we're able to pay for it."

"I'll help," Babs chimed in. "I'll get a job this year just like you, Sunset. I wanna help make things better around here."

Twilight, at the head of the table, beamed at her daughters and levitated a glass of cider into the air. "I'd like to propose a toast," she announced, causing all eyes at the table to turn to her. "To Miss Trixie."

Sunset scoffed. "Trixie?"

"Miss Trixie, Sunset Shimmer," Twilight corrected sternly. "It's her coin that paid for most of this glorious family feast, so let's be thankful for that."

"Darling, how can you say that?" Flash said in disbelief. "How can you ask us to raise our glasses to scum like Trixie? She treats you like the dirt under her hooves and doesn't seem to care that you're practically starving."

Trixie drooped, and stared hard at Twilight, petrified with fear at what she might say next.

"Flash," the alicorn said wearily, "it's Hearth's Warming Eve. Let's not be so negative. I'm asking you to make a toast and say a prayer for Miss Trixie's health, for it's our health."

Flash didn't look entirely convinced, but Sunset lowered her head apologetically and raised her own glass. "To Miss Trixie."

The toast went around the entire table. "To Miss Trixie!"

"And to us," Twilight added. "My wonderful family, all of you. May Celestia bless and watch over us."

The family clinked their glasses together and drank deeply. When they finished, Dinky, sitting at the table's end, lifted her glass up high, balanced on the hoof of her one working front leg, and declared, "May Celestia bless and watch over… everypony!"

Joyful gasps and laughter escaped nearly everyone's mouth at that, Dinky even receiving some applause from the older members of the household.

"Oh, Dinky," Twilight said lovingly. "That's…"

She was interrupted when Dinky went into a terrible coughing fit. The awful hacking went on for ten seconds, then twenty, and the members of the family started shooting each other concerned glances. Twilight raced to the other end up the table and held Dinky tight, comforting her, running a hoof through her mane, until the violent coughing subsisted and finally faded away entirely, a process that took nearly two whole minutes. Without a word, Twilight hugged Dinky tightly and returned to her own seat. The atmosphere around the table was now tense, fearful and silent.

"Discord…" Trixie said shakily, swallowing hard before continuing. "Dinky is quite ill. What's going to happen to her? Can you see the future?"

Discord shrugged. "I see next Hearth's Warming Eve, no more than that. An empty seat at this very table. A crutch against the wall that nopony is using, but nopony has the heart to get rid of. I'm here to show you the present, not the future. But if your present doesn't change the future, then… Dinky Doo will not be with us this time next year. Her illness will defeat her. Let's not mince words: she will die."

"No…" Trixie peeped, breathless.

Discord smirked at her. "Oh, the death of a poor child isn't worth crying over. After all, there are just so many ponies in Canterlot these days, pathetically suffering." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's been said that perhaps some thinning of the herds might be in order."

Trixie edged away from his lips against her ear and stared at him with horror.

"That's right, I went there," he said gleefully. He started skipping around the table, singing. "O-oh ti-idings of co-omfort and joy, comfort and joy, o-oh tidings of—" He cut himself off and stretched his body across the table, placing his face inches away from Trixie's.

"The 'thinning of the herds' idea that's floating around Canterlot lately—if overpopulation is indeed an issue, and that is indeed the solution, whose job is it to decide who should live and who should die, hmm? You'll find that many who deserve to live"—he ruffled Dinky's hair, to which she was unresponsive, taking no notice of him—"die before their time, and many who deserve to die… They. Yet. Live. That's right, thinning of the herds doesn't seem so economic when it GETS YOU! RIGHT! HERE! Now does it?" He punctuated that dramatic statement with three jabs to Trixie's heart with the tip of his pointy eagle-like finger, and in a swirl of snow, the scene changed around the two of them, the late afternoon becoming night in an instant.

They were in another room, similarly small and threadbare, but even more so. There was hardly any furniture apart from the near-dead holiday tree in the corner, and this room was clearly the entire house. There were cracks in the walls, some of them massive, and there was an intense draft, but the family who called this little room home were singing despite their shivering… quietly, so as not to wake the three elderly mares sleeping in rocking chairs near the fireplace.

Five golden rings
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtledoves
And a partridge in a pear tree

With another swish of Discord's hands, they were now under a bridge in some part of Canterlot Trixie didn't recognize. Snow blew on the wind, white specks swirling around and around against the black winter sky. There beneath the bridge, three diamond dogs were huddled around a little campfire.

"I know these three," Trixie realized. "They're my workers. What are they doing huddled under a bridge in this weather?"

"They live here," Discord said darkly. Shocked, Trixie rushed forward to get a better look, leaving Discord standing in the street far behind her.

One of the three, the gangly gray one with pointy ears and bulging green eyes, clapped his massive paws together. "Well, gentlemen," he rasped, "now's as good a time as any to exchange gifts. Fido…" He and the small brown one both lifted a single little thing wrapped in white paper, presenting it to their hulking blue-furred companion.

Fido took the object from the other two and slowly, tenderly unwrapped it. "An orange?" he gasped, holding up the juicy fruit. "How did you get this?"

The gray dog let out a raspy sound that was probably a laugh. "Wasn't easy."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Fido exclaimed, starting to peel the orange. "I can't keep this for myself. I'll have to share it with all of you."

"Heh, we almost hoped you would," the brown one chuckled.

"Here, Spot," said Fido, giving him a few sections of the orange. "And here's what Rover and I got for you." He rolled an even tinier package to the tiny dog.

"Ah, well, they say good things come in small packages," Spot said enthusiastically, unwrapping the package. "Ooooh, and they're right! A chestnut!" He held it up to the moonlight and examined it. "Look at it… it's gorgeous. Oh, this is so precious to me. I'm going to start roasting it right away." He peeled it with his claws in seconds, then felt around on the ground until he found one of several small metal rods, spearing the chestnut and holding it over the fire.

"And finally… for Rover," said Fido, handing over a third package, a narrow and elongated one.

"Oh, now what did you guys get me?" Rover laughed, unwrapping it happily. When he saw the gift's contents, he gasped, open-mouthed and absolutely stunned. His eyes became filled with tears and he put a paw over his mouth, moved beyond words or rational thought. Amazed, Trixie stepped closer and tried to get a glimpse of the item.

"Well?" Spot said eagerly. "What do you think?"

"…It's a spoon," Rover choked out. He held it up so they could see it, heaving and sobbing with joy as he did so. "For me? What have I done to deserve… riches… and a family like you?"

"Oh, don't cry, you're just going to make us cry…" Fido sobbed.

The three of them hugged and wept together. Trixie simply stared at them with disbelief as the scene changed around her once again.

She saw the city spread out beneath her, a bird's-eye view she never imagined she'd be able to experience. She didn't realize Discord was clutching her arm until he gently let her go, and she panicked at the realization that she was floating through the air unsupported.

"You're all right," he assured her. "You won't fall. How are you feeling? Comfortable?"

She hesitated, unwilling to move until she allowed herself to accept that she would indeed stay aloft. She stretched and looked around at the city. "Yes," she finally said. "Quite comfortable. That's odd. Shouldn't it be colder?"

"Oh, it should. And if you want to feel how cold it really is, just say the word and I'll do it. But fair warning, the cold is being downplayed for your benefit. In just your nightgown, the real cold of this evening would kill you."

Trixie winced. "I'll take it the way it is. Ah, by that I mean the way I'm feeling it now."

"Content with the visual aids, then? As you wish." Discord snaked his way through the air, and Trixie found she could follow him simply by trotting through the air.

"Where are we headed?" she called, raising her voice over the sound of a rather sudden gust of wind.

"Well," he called back, "as nasty as the weather is in town this time of year, it's far worse outside the city limits… especially to those ponies who have to make it that way."

Discord extended his hand, and a scene came into view out of the darkness: a black pegasus with a tall mohawk mane-style, wrapped in a rather flimsy and poorly-insulated cloak, hovering over three other pegasi—two lavender mares and another black stallion, this one wrapped in a many-layered puffy sweater. These three were flapping their wings hard, to shape clouds and blow them further into town, while the one above them was supervising, shouting instructions at them that could scarcely be heard over the howling wind.

"Wait," he called out. "Where's Rumble?"

In response, he received a frantic yell. A tiny gray colt was spiraling away, caught by a powerful gust. One of the young mares took off without hesitation to catch him, gripping him in her arms and helping him to stabilize in his flight. The supervisor quickly swooped down.

"Are you okay?" he asked the colt tenderly.

"Fine, big brother," the little one peeped.

The supervisor helped his little brother get into the line with the other three workers. "Are we good here?" he asked the entire weather team authoritatively.

"Ready when you are, Thunderlane," chirped one of the mares.

"Let's get this done!" said the other, pumping her hoof.

The other stallion nodded. "Let's do this and do it right so we can all go home."

"Well said," Thunderlane said proudly. "So—together! Everypony get into rhythm on my count—one, two, three, four!"

And to Trixie's surprise, as they charged forward together into the great thunderhead cloud that was forming, their voices rose together mightily in a carol, a rhythmic song to keep them in sync with each other.

Good king Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay roundabout
Deep and crisp and even…

Discord gently held Trixie's hoof and pulled her through the sky, even further away from the city, zipping through the air faster than sound until they arrived at a lighthouse on a rocky island, the snow swirling around it so thick that the night air was white.

Discord gave Trixie's leg another little tug, and they were quickly warped inside the lighthouse. There at a little table were the two lighthouse workers, stocky pegasus stallions with shaggy manes that fell into their faces, sharing a single can of warm brandy.

"Hey," said the shorter, brown-furred one, raising the can. "Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you."

"And also to you," said the other, who was taller, orange in color, and whose eyes were completely concealed by his hair.

They both laughed aloud, as if at the ridiculousness of their situation, then looked at each other with genuine affection and, like the weather workers, started singing heartily, if terribly off-key.

O holy night, the stars are brightly SHIIIIIII-ning—

The scene faded to black around Discord and Trixie, and the howling winds went silent. After a few seconds, Trixie's ears perked up: she could hear laughter, wonderful laughter, beautiful and powerful. "Who is…?" she breathed, turning her head.

Abruptly, they were no longer in darkness, and Trixie could see the source of the laughter: Cadance, dressed in a splendid but noticeably inexpensive gown, draped across a cushy armchair in a small but well-furnished living room, surrounded by other ponies at all sides and laughing hysterically.

"Honey, we're waiting," a large white unicorn stallion said gently.

"I know…" Cadance choked out through her laughter. "I'm sorry, I can't stop laughing, I'm having too much fun."

"Is that Cadance's husband? He's gorgeous," Trixie remarked. "Shining Armor, wasn't it? Wow… I can't believe I've never even seen him before." She examined him, his long horn, his sturdy hooves, his elegant blue mane… then she scanned the entire group, seemingly a party of some sort: some were sharing the couch, others like Cadance's husband had big comfy chairs like her, others were simply sitting on dining chairs which had been placed in the living room. "I suddenly feel rather underdressed," she said, looking down at her nightdress. "…And old," she added, putting a hoof to her lined face. "I feel old…"

"Hold onto that thought," Discord advised. "You'll need it when I'm done with you and the next guy shows up."

Trixie did a double-take at him. "Wha… what?"

Discord shushed her and touched her chin, pushing her head so she was watching the party.

"So," Shining Armor was saying, "we know you're thinking of an animal."

Cadance nodded, unable to speak through her giggle fit.

"One that can be found in Canterlot," Shining Armor recited, "and which is savage, unpleasant, that ponies try to avoid, and… talks? Have I got everything?"

"Yep, that's what we know," Cadance said gleefully, still giggling.

"Um… um… a parrot!" exclaimed a poofy-haired pink earth pony. "No, a pig! A TIGER!"

"Tigers don't talk, Pinkie Pie," said a gray mare with heavy-lidded eyes, speaking very slowly and tonelessly.

"Oh, okay," Pinkie Pie said calmly. "Um… a whippet! A wombat! A woodpecker!" She jumped on her plush armchair, higher and higher with each guess. "A woodchuck! A woodlouse! A warthog! A wasp! A walrus! A wildebeest! A wooly mammoth!"

"Pinkie Pie," the gray mare deadpanned.

Pinkie Pie froze in midair. "Yeah?" she said casually.

"Relax."

"All right, all right," Pinkie submitted, slowly floating back into her seat. "Somepony else can have a turn."

Shining Armor beamed at the two of them and laughed. "Thanks for that, Maud. Ah, I love watching you two. Almost makes me wish I had a sister."

The entire group puzzled out Cadance's clues in silence for a moment, then Shining Armor spoke. "I've got it."

Cadance grinned. "Go on."

"It's your Aunt Trixie," he said slyly.

"YES!" Cadance whooped, pumping a hoof into the air. "Shining Armor gets it!" She pulled him close and gave him a tender kiss.

The entire gathering laughed at the answer, and Trixie slumped, disheartened.

"I should have known," another gray mare chuckled, sitting up oddly straight in a wooden chair and lifting her chin elegantly. She wore much fancier attire than any other pony at the party, who were dressed well but cheaply, her dress topped with a little pink bow tie. "Cadance, do tell us again about this aunt of yours. She really called Hearth's Warming Eve stuff and nonsense?"

"The exact word she used was 'hooey'," Cadance confirmed, nodding her head. "Also 'feh'. She says 'feh' a lot. 'Feh, hooey!' And the scary part is that I think she really meant it. She thinks the acts of feasting and gift-giving on the holiday constitute giving ourselves in to gluttony and greed. And she said that she'd believe in Celestia when she, and I quote, gets up off her divine tuchis and actually does something."

Discord raised an eyebrow at Trixie, and she hung her head in shame. "I… I did not say 'tuchis'," she muttered in weak defense.

Shining Armor sighed. "I know you're always trying to see the good in her, sweetheart, but I just can't shake this feeling that I really do not like your aunt."

"Oh, please try to reconsider that," Cadance begged pitifully. "I don't dislike her. I feel sorry for her." She stood up declaratively and addressed the whole party in a projected, carrying voice. "I've told you all how rich she is. And yet she lives in this beat-up, drafty old house, which she's never bothered to maintain… it must be a miserable place to live, truly.

"She's so terrified of losing money that she never spends a cent, and who suffers for that? She does! I invite her to a holiday dinner party, she refuses, and I ask you again, who suffers? Just herself. She does no harm to any of us, she's just depriving herself of a great dinner."

"I'll drink to that," said the elegant mare, raising her wine glass over her head. The rest of the guests also lifted their glasses, either with magic or atop their hooves, and Pinkie Pie gleefully shrieked, "BEST DINNER EVER!"

"And here comes the dessert!" Shining Armor said eagerly. "Bulk, if you would…"

A simply enormous and powerfully-muscled white stallion entered the room. He was dressed in a black-and-white maid's dress and pushing a cart loaded with various desserts.

"Everypony help yourselves," Cadance said enthusiastically. She raised her glass a second time. "A toast to Aunt Trixie. Whatever she's doing today, whatever it is she wishes… may she find happiness."

"To Aunt Trixie," the rest of the party agreed, clinking their glasses against those of their neighbors and then taking their pick of treats from the dessert cart.

"Octavia, would you honor us with a song?" Cadance said sweetly, gesturing to a cello propped up against the wall.

The mare in the bow tie looked caught off-guard. "Can I eat first?" she said, defensively holding her apple fritter close to her heart.

"Of course, of course, where are my manners?" Cadance laughed. "Enjoy your dessert."

Octavia smiled in return. "I'll be quick."

Pinkie Pie was scooping up dessert after dessert from the cart, stuffing many into her mouth and gathering even more into her arms. "Just you wait!" she chirped. "I've got so many more ka-razy party games planned! Guessing games and singing games and improv and physical MOVIN' AROOOOOUND kinda games! I CAN HARDLY WAIT!"

"Well, enough of this," said Discord, producing some odd boxy contraption covered in buttons. He hit one of the buttons, and the scene rushed away from them in a sea of static and white noise, leaving he and Trixie in an empty street.

"Hey!" Trixie exclaimed. "I was watching that!"

"You were invited to that party, you know," he said coolly. "It's not my fault you weren't there. I have a schedule to keep, there'll be no lingering." He conjured up a bundle of papers, held together by a single staple, with the title TRIXIE: A Hearth's Warming Eve Carol printed across the front page in elegant script. He flipped through the pages. "Let's see, where am I? Ah yes, Chapter Four, here we go… oh, dear." He sighed and turned his eyes derisively to the sky. "I took this gig because I'm not about to pass up an evening spent outside my stone prison, but this is the part I was hoping I'd be able to skip over… the sappy, sentimental part."

The street slipped away from them, and the mist all around solidified into a large hospital room, where a doctor and several nurses were tending to a vast number of bedridden patients.

A pale blue mare with wild red eyes and tangled hair barked like a dog as she lay flat on her back in her bed. A nurse stroked her head lovingly.

A young pegasus stallion with an eye-catching black-and-purple mane was being harnessed to a metal framework attached to a pair of wheels which touched the floor alongside his apparently immobile hind legs. When his nurse was finished securing him to the device, she nodded to him encouragingly and he started walking forward—perhaps for the first time in his life, if his smile that grew bigger with every step was any indication.

A square-jawed, silver-blue stallion was given a pair of glasses by the doctor, and he blinked through them, looking stunned at what he was suddenly able to see.

Discord stroked Trixie's head, and spoke his clearly-rehearsed lines in an uncomfortable, hasty tone. "Hearth's Warming Eve is a time to give yourself up, to volunteer yourself, to love one another as brothers and sisters, to give all you have, to bring together the entire world." He waved his hands, and the entire world spun around the pair of them, leaving them at the center of an odd, swirling vortex. "And maybe… just maybe… remembering that that's the kind of spirit we should keep all year round."

Pictures flew past in the whirlwind. A frontier town out in a desert, lacking in snow but still decorated to the brim with yuletide cheer, the settler ponies and the native buffalo mingling in harmony. The trappings of the season could be seen in the streets of Saddle Arabia and Maretonia; though their countries did not revere Celestia, the distinctive flair of Hearth's Warming Eve had leaked into their cultures, and apparently, so had its giving soul.

Deep in a hidden grotto, breezies drifted around their lush and exotic village, chirping greetings to each other in their alien language, exchanging wrapped gifts seemingly indiscriminately with every breezie they conversed with. In a smoky, barren landscape, a swarm of changelings presented a gift to their queen: an absurdly adorable, pink cat-like creature on a silver platter, who beamed lovingly. The queen considered the creature for a moment before bowing her head gratefully to her subjects… and opening her mouth to drain the life essence of the creature, leaving it a twisted and dry husk.

Appalled, Trixie shrieked involuntarily. Discord laughed. "Sorry!" he exclaimed. "Sorry." He wiggled his fingers, and the whirlwind dissolved, leaving them standing in pure darkness, Discord laughing madly, doubled over and clutching his stomach.

"Ahhh," he wheezed breathlessly when he could laugh no more. "Sweet Celestia, I had to do it." He continued chuckling, wiping a tear from his eye. Trixie weakly attempted to laugh along with him, but refused to look at him. "You get that I had to do it, don't you?" said Discord, seemingly addressing the empty black sky above. "The scene was just crying out for a bit of black comedy to cut through all that touchy emotional stuff. And we especially needed that break… considering what's coming next."

Uneasily, Trixie turned to him, waiting for him to elaborate. He was now wearing a heavy black floor-length coat with a huge zipper, his hands pressed together and hidden within the coat's huge sleeves.

"What are you wearing?" she said in bewilderment.

"Oh, I thought I'd squeeze a bit of mourning in," he said casually.

"Mourning?" Trixie demanded, her stomach sinking. "Mourning whom?"

"Myself," he said solemnly. "My time is almost up."

Those words did little to ease Trixie's spirits, and the inner turmoil only intensified a second later, her heart leaping into her mouth as she saw the folds of Discord's coat move, as if something inside was struggling. With its agitation, she could see Discord's mismatched feet, as well as other pairs of tiny hooves.

"Um…" Trixie said quietly, "not to alarm you, but I think there's somepony inside your coat."

"That may very well be," said Discord, not missing a beat. He spread his arms, and the coat unzipped by itself and opened wide, revealing two tiny fillies huddled by his legs.

They were emaciated, every rib visible through their fur, their stomachs concave and visibly churning with hunger. Their manes were tattered, and they were covered in soot, so it was hard to tell at first that one was gray and the other pink. Despite their ragged appearance, each bore an expensive-looking accessory which was in perfect condition: a pair of designer eyeglasses on one, a tiara on the other. They had a feral, savage look in their eyes, and snarled at Trixie, breathing heavily through bared teeth.

"W-who are they?" Trixie stammered.

"Silver Spoon here represents 'ignorance'," Discord explained softly. "Diamond Tiara represents 'want'."

"Are they your children?" Trixie dared to guess.

"They're the children of the world," Discord corrected sternly. "Beware them, for if they should be allowed to grow any older or stronger… why, that would spell doom for all goodly folk."

Trixie winced and averted her eyes. "Put them back in your cloak, I can hardly bear to look upon them."

The fillies snarled and hissed at her, infuriated, but Discord acquiesced, the long black robe folding and zipping up by itself, concealing them. A second later, the coat dissolved into black smoke and floated away, and when it did, the fillies were gone. "There," said Discord. "Out of sight, out of mind. But that doesn't mean they're gone. No… they're around us always."

Trixie shivered. "Is there nothing that can be done for them? To save them?"

"Well," Discord said slyly, "if I'm not mistaken, your tax bits pay for prisons and workhouses."

She gaped at him, and he cackled. "Now that's the part of this job I was looking forward to!" he howled. "Throwing your own words back at you, making you feel like the most evil witch ever to walk the streets of Canterlot." He bent over, guffawing, then glared at her harshly. "And the answer is no, they can have no recourse. They are around us, always… always… always…"

Trixie realized that Discord had somehow gained even more height at some point without her noticing. Glancing at his feet, she saw that he was standing atop a white marble pedestal, his tail coiled around it, and that his feet and tail were beginning to become the very same white marble.

He chuckled deeply as he continued to turn to stone from the feet up. He put a hand over his heart and extended the other, just before the stone froze them in that pose. His laugh turned low and bitter as first his neck, then entire head became smooth, white, and unmoving.

Trixie tilted her head in confusion, examining the statue carefully for any sign of life. Abruptly, she could see Discord's heart beat through his stone chest, but only once… at which point that pinpoint of light contracted, growing smaller and smaller… and the statue exploded, stone shards flying everywhere, shockwaves of white light erupting one after another from its base.

Trixie tried to keep her hooves firmly on whatever passed for the ground in this empty blackness, but was sent tumbling through space, through the endless void, while Discord's sinister laugh continued to echo in her ears over and over and over again.

Author's Note

...Yeah, Twilight's family is the weirdest bunch of casting I did in this whole thing. Maybe I should have done them first. They're scraps, basically, but I like it.

Two things inspired the presence of the Diamond Dogs in this story. First, the rats who work for Scrooge in the Muppet version of the story. And this scene was inspired by a newspaper comic I read when I was very, very young... I believe it was a Zits. It started with a very poor man finding an orange, a chestnut, and a spoon in his Christmas stocking and being overjoyed... then a quick cut to Jeremy (if it was indeed a Zits) surrounded by gifts saying, "So, can I go now?" That sure was a long time ago. I wonder if I can find that comic again...?

I screwed with the old Christmas Carol catchphrases a bit. "God bless us, everyone" became "May Celestia bless and watch over everypony", natch, while "bah" and "humbug" became "feh" and "hooey", which have approximately the same meanings. Cadance's line of "feh, hooey" is of course a shout-out to the old "bah, humbug" line which Scrooge never actually said. No, really, he didn't, just like nobody ever said "Beam me up, Scotty" or "Luke, I am your father". And he certainly never said "bah humbug" without the comma, because that doesn't even make sense...

Shining Armor's line about wishing he had a sister was just a cheap way to make the statement that just because Fred-Cadance has the same husband as real Cadance, that doesn't mean she's any relation to Cratchit-Twilight. Again, felt the need to communicate that after it seemed that Fred-Cadance and Cratchit-Twilight were confusing concepts. Go figure.

Darkness

Trixie found herself in the middle of a street in the dead of night. She didn't recognize the city, but it seemed to be made entirely out of crystal, from its silver-blue streets to its towering residences. It was still and empty.

"Where am I?" she muttered, looking around at the crystal streets. She wandered around a bit, examining the scenery, and spotted a clock. "It's only one o'clock?" she exclaimed. "But Gilda came to me at midnight… surely it's not one o'clock on the same night. Yes, surely a day or more has passed…"

She continued walking, exploring every street, examining everything that caught her eye, hoping for some clue. At one point, she saw a tiny wisp of black smoke flutter by, but dismissed it as a trick of her fear and the darkness. Hours passed.

"What is this place?" she said in frustration. "And why is it completely empty?"

Fearful, she kept exploring. At the center of the city, there was a platinum-white, spire-topped crystal castle, and she started moving toward it—but in a roundabout manner, continuing to explore every alley and thoroughfare, only making general progress to the city's center. Once again, she spotted the wisp of smoke, dancing overhead.

When she reached the castle, she was drawn to an odd whirring sound, and sought out its source. At the foot of the castle, a huge blue crystalline heart spun rapidly between two glowing pillars.

She stared at it, finding it to have a mildly hypnotic effect. For the third time, the black smoke raced by; she barely spotted it, focused as she was on the oddly-familiar crystal heart.

"Am I to just wander here forever?" Trixie said softly. "Gilda said the spirits would come whenever they pleased. Has the third decided not to come at all?"

She lifted her legs and stretched her muscles; her aging joints were starting to feel pain from her hours of walking, and she shivered a bit in her night dress.

She turned around, and came face-to-face with a wall of darkness, many stories tall, swirling ethereally. She flinched, but barely—the city had ignited memories which made this dark figure almost completely unsurprising.

"Are you the spirit who is to show me Hearth's Warming Eves of the future?" she asked.

The shapeless, smoky thing diminished in size until it wasn't much larger than her. "I aaaaammmmmm," it said in a deep, rumbling voice.

"May I have your name?" she asked with an attempt at a polite smile.

"Sssssssommmmmbrrrraaaaa," the thing replied.

"Sombra," Trixie repeated. "Very well. I confess… the notion that you promise me images of the future… I am deathly afraid of what I may see. But I understand that it will all be for my own good, so… so lead on, Sombra. I am prepared."

Trixie was startled and jumped back when eyes appeared on the cloud of smoke—huge, furious eyes of a poisonous green, with red irises and deeper red pupils, with purple smoke seeping from their corners.

Sombra wrapped around her many times over, swirling rapidly and laughing.

When Trixie could see again, she was once again in the snowy streets of Canterlot, Sombra floating beside her, staring at her intently.

"Lead the way," she said timidly. "I shall watch and listen well, and… and learn, if I can."

His head tilted in curiosity.

"I… I will learn," she said with more confidence.

Sombra nodded and gazed off in a certain direction. Trixie followed his eyes, and saw three ponies standing on the snow-covered steps of City Hall. Trixie recognized the trio from around town, very important and influential members of Canterlot's high society.

"So, the old bird's finally passed on, has she?" Fancy Pants was saying casually.

"It's about bloody time, if you ask me," Hoity Toity snipped.

"Does anypony know how it finally happened?" said Fancy Pants. "What did her in?"

"Celestia only knows, for she's Celestia's problem now," Photo Finish said dismissively in her husky accent.

"Well, not just Celestia's problem," Hoity Toity said with a devious smile. "What's happened to all that money of hers?"

Fancy Pants shrugged. "Ah, let the courts figure that one out. Unless she's left it to me, I don't particularly care." They all shared a cruel laugh at that. "So, is there going to be a service?"

"Not that I know of," said Hoity Toity. "I can't imagine anypony who'd want to arrange that, any more than I can envision anypony who'd want to go to the damned thing."

"Well, maybe we ought to throw something together," Fancy Pants said flippantly. "You know, provide a lunch, make a party of it."

"I… might stop by if it looks like you get enough ponies on board," Photo Finish mused. "Ve'll see." She tossed her head, turned, and walked away.

"Very well," said Fancy Pants, undeterred. He turned to Hoity Toity. "How about you, old friend? Think we could work on that?"

"I do like the idea of a nice lunch," he admitted.

They laughed together again, and parted ways. Trixie quizzically turned to Sombra for an explanation. He silently guided her gaze toward an antique shop, manned by a very tall, sleepy-eyed mare with a pale yellow coat and a puffy sapphire-blue mane.

"Yo!" the shopkeeper called out. "Jet Set and Upper Crust, c'mere!"

A unicorn couple who were passing by, who Trixie recognized from her visions of the present, smiled at the mare and approached. "Hrmmm, Madam Sapphire, how do you do?" Jet Set said smoothly.

"Oh, just fine and dandy," said Sapphire. "So, didja hear? Sounds to me like death's embraced one of its kindred spirits. First embrace she ever knew, am I right? Ha!"

Jet Set smirked. "Indeed."

"Indeed she did…" Upper Crust said darkly. The couple returned to walking down the street.

"That's it?" Trixie said blankly. "That's their whole conversation? A bit cryptic, isn't it?" She looked desperately at Sombra, and he merely stared back at her.

"Where am I in this future?" she demanded softly. "What has this to do with me?"

Sombra's only response was a resonant chuckle.

"I… trust that the answer will come in time," Trixie mumbled.

He led her through the streets, guiding her through seas of ponies. She optimistically scanned for familiar faces, but couldn't find any.

"I do look forward to seeing myself," she said brightly. "How I may have… changed."

Sombra glanced at her in disbelief.

Before Trixie even noticed the transition, he was leading her through a seedy part of town, the houses shabby and boarded up, the streets coated in grime.

Sombra's tendrils of smoke wrapped around Trixie, and he pulled her under the street, traveling through solid stone for a moment before finding themselves in a shop located in a basement, where a hulking blue minotaur, wrapped in a thin cloak and shivering in the cold, poked at his charcoal stove.

The three diamond dogs were in the shop, laden with gaudy jewelry, crowns, and tacky imitations of fancy clothes. They were laughing hysterically and pointing out various other ridiculous trinkets lining the shop's shelves.

"Bring Iron Will more stuff to trade for it," the minotaur drawled, "and you get the run of the shop, boys. That's how it works."

The dogs giggled. "I like the sound of that idea," Rover rasped. "We can do that."

Trixie's face brightened. "Well! Those three seem to be doing much better for themselves. They trade with this fellow? Where did they get items to trade? Oh, I suppose it doesn't matter. As long as they're doing better, I'm happy for them. Perhaps I'm the reason they're doing better, could that be it?"

Sombra gave another rumbling chuckle.

The bell on the door rang, and Zecora breezed in, wearing a nice red dress and a matching hat with a veil. "Oh, Mr. Iron Wi-ill," she sang.

"Ah, Zecora, my dear!" Iron Will said delightedly. "Iron Will's new favorite client. Come on in. What have you got for old Iron Will this time?"

"Something you'll enjoy, of that I am certain," Zecora said slyly. "Behold my exciting new… bed curtains!" She plopped the elaborate curtains into Iron Will's arms.

"Ooooooh!" the dogs chorused.

"Bed curtains," said Iron Will with a smirk, fingering the fabric. "Nice, very nice. How did you get them?"

"The only way I know how, with style and flair," Zecora said gleefully. "Just nicked them from the bed while she was lying there."

"Wait," Trixie said in surprise. "Those are my bed curtains…"

Iron Will dropped the curtains and recoiled, which the diamond dogs found hysterically funny.

"Oh my dear Iron Will, is that unattractive to you?" Zecora teased. "To make a decent living, I do what I've gotta do."

"Zecora," Iron Will growled, raising a suspicious eyebrow, "you're not trying to sell Iron Will diseased bed curtains, are you?"

"Oh, pish-posh," Zecora said dismissively. "This is business, and I'm no traitor." She gestured to the dogs. "They can vouch for that—and you'll thank me later."

With dawning horror, Trixie realized that the back of Iron Will's shop was loaded with her own household belongings—clothing, broaches, pens and stationary, nearly everything she possessed was tucked away in the back of this seedy pawn shop.

"They're all making a living stealing from me!" she exclaimed. "That's unbelievable! I would have thought my future self had started being nicer to them. Hmph! I guess some folks can't appreciate a good change of heart."

"All right," Iron Will was saying, "Iron Will's going to appraise these and see what they're worth." He chuckled. "You're all going to be Iron Will's undoing! You bleed me dry, but you keep bringing such fine things, Iron Will JUST CAN'T HELP IT!"

Zecora and the dogs laughed. "Now don't go thanking me all at once," said Zecora, "but take a look at my pièce de résistance…" She whipped out a dress, one unfamiliar to Trixie. It was deep blue and elaborately embroidered, trimmed with white lace. "I think you'll find it to your taste," said Zecora. "They were planning on burying her in it! What a waste…"

They all laughed and laughed and laughed until the scene faded into the next one. Trixie had no awareness of where she had been taken, for she was reflecting inward, devastated.

"I wondered how these images were connected," she said quietly, her ears drooping. "My employees who are stealing from me are also taking an interest in this… this death that the public seems so unmoved by."

She realized that she and Sombra were standing in a dreary, gray room, where an elderly donkey wearing a rather obvious hairpiece was draping a shroud over a body on a table. He tightened the black cloth gently, and as it went taught, Trixie could see the shape of a pony's face, distinctly feminine, visible in profile.

"Well," the old donkey growled, "there you have it, apprentice."

A small pony, a dainty white pegasus colt with terribly skinny legs, approached the mortician, his head tilted in confusion.

"It happens like this sometimes," the donkey said darkly. "You've learned a lot about my trade, haven't you, boy? Sometimes ponies want their loved ones presented beautifully before they say goodbye, in their finest clothes and finest makeup. But sometimes… like now… nopony cares enough. The deceased doesn't have any loved ones, and those in charge of their affairs just want us to stick 'em in the ground already." He sighed deeply, exhausted. "Doesn't really make a difference to me. I get paid either way. And where they're going, it won't matter what they look like now… they'll all look the same eventually."

The mortician and his apprentice left the room, the door slamming shut with a cold note of finality. Sombra loomed over the bed, and from his smoky body a face emerged, with a fanged mouth, a curved red horn, and a mane made up of the same swirly smoke as the rest of his form. "Hmmmmmm…" he said thoughtfully. "Whaaat issss thissss…?"

Trixie held her breath as a tiny tendril of smoke reached for the shroud. She was silent because she was sure there was no way the spirit could manipulate objects in these visions, but to her horror he could. He began to lift the black cloth off of the pony's veiled face.

"STOP!" Trixie shouted.

He did, not lifting the cloth any further, turning to grin at Trixie.

"I… I don't wish to see who is under that blanket," Trixie said frantically. "Your point is well taken. I don't know who you have under here, but… the circumstances surrounding her death, and their aftermath, may very well be my own." She stared at the body as Sombra gently covered it again, pondering, fearing the worst. "Sombra?"

"Ahhh?"

"If there are any in Canterlot who feel true emotion over this pony's death…" Trixie said, slowly and carefully choosing her words, "may I see them?"

"Mmmmmm…"

Sombra's smoky figure expanded out into a big rectangular window, and within that window a scene played: a tiny room in a dark, decaying, and drafty apartment block.

A pleasantly portly middle-aged mare waited anxiously. There was nothing else in the room but a dining table, a stove, and a shoddy bed, everything that these living quarters possessed.

Shortly, a stallion returned, lanky and freckled in contrast to his wife.

"Darling!" the mare exclaimed, racing to him. "Darling, what news?"

He sat down at the table, seeming almost catatonic.

"Darling?" said the mare. "Oh… oh, is it… is it bad?"

He blinked several times before answering. "Ah, no. No, actually, it's… it's quite good. Shockingly good."

"What?" she gasped. "You mean… she relented?"

"She, uh… she died."

The wife blinked rapidly, processing the news in silence for a long and heavy moment. "Sh-she died?"

He nodded silently. Then, they both broke out in joyous laughter, embracing and dancing in a circle.

"So what happens now?" the wife breathed. "Who will take her place?"

"I don't know, but while they're figuring that out, we'll have time to make our payment! And surely"—he paused to laugh uncontrollably—"surely whoever replaces her won't be nearly so merciless. Oh, darling, we've got it made!"

They continued to laugh. She leaned on him, relieved, and he nuzzled her as the scene disappeared.

Trixie scowled at Sombra. "That's not exactly what I was going for when I asked for emotion."

He chuckled. "I know."

"Sadness! Tenderness! Mourning!" Trixie snapped. "Regret at the death that has visited! Is there any instance of that in all of Canterlot that you can show me on this day?"

"Yyyeesssssss…"

Back in the streets, Trixie attempted to become accustomed to Sombra's oversized floating head. The streets were populated but not crowded, and as she loyally stuck close to Sombra's side, she began to realize that they were tailing one pony in particular, a mare wearing a worn-out blanket as a cloak.

"Twilight!" a voice called. "Twilight Sparkle!"

The cloaked figure turned her head slowly, as Cadance swooped down from the sky and set down in the snow. The other pony was indeed Twilight, her eyes bleary and red from crying. She looked at Cadance with detachment and not a trace of recognition.

"Twilight, it's me, Cadance," Cadance said worriedly. "Miss Trixie's niece?"

"Oh," Twilight muttered. "Yes. How are you?"

"I'm… well enough," said Cadance. "And you?"

Twilight started to answer, but Cadance cut her off. "What a thing to ask," she said. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry about your loss."

"Thank you," Twilight said monotonously. "And I for yours."

"Oh… mine?" said Cadance with a sad smile. "Mine was no loss at all. I think perhaps things are better this way. But you… I am so, so sorry. Your entire family must be devastated."

Trixie inhaled sharply. "What loss? Surely not…"

"I know there's nothing I can do to ease the sting of what's happened to you," Cadance was saying. "All the same, we must think of your family's survival. I've recently come into a rather substantial amount of money due to… well, you know."

"Yes," Twilight mumbled.

"I want to give some of that back, so… my husband and I are going to try to start a business. If you need a job, or any of your daughters are looking for an apprenticeship… you need only ask."

"That's…" Twilight said with emotion rising in her throat. "Thank you, Miss Cadance. That's such a generous offer, it's… you would not believe the weight you've just lifted off of me, off of us all. Thank you so much."

"Shh, it's all right," Cadance said soothingly. "Think nothing of it. It's my pleasure to help an old friend in need. Here…" She held Twilight's hoof in her own, and gently placed a card atop it. "My card. Come to my house anytime, no need to wait for an invitation, and we'll discuss the details."

"Thank you," Twilight whispered.

Sombra brought Trixie to Twilight's house then, one scene steadily dissolving into the next. They were in the empty kitchen, and without even being aware of her legs moving, Trixie drifted into the back room to see the family gathered around the fireplace.

The flurry of activity from the last time Trixie had been there was completely gone. Everyone was silent, their expressions numb, none of them seeming to notice that the fire was dying.

Fearfully, Trixie found herself counting them, and the pit of her stomach began to sink.

"Where is your mother?" Flash finally said in a weary voice. "It never used to take her this long to get home from church."

"She walked a lot faster when she had Dinky on her back," Babs said solemnly.

"Heh… yeah," Flash sighed. "Dinky… little pip weighed nothing."

The front door swung upon. "Flash?" Twilight called.

"Oh, sweetie," Flash sighed in relief. A few seconds later, Twilight entered the back room. "You certainly took your time," Flash said sympathetically. "I was worried. It's so cold out there. Is everything okay?"

"It is cold," Twilight agreed. "It's so very, very cold. But I promised Dinky I'd see her every Sunday, and… it's worthwhile. I feel she's there, a calming presence. You really should come by sometime, Flash. It's such a nice place, even in winter."

"I couldn't possibly," said Flash, getting choked up. "I just couldn't bear it."

And finally, Trixie spotted the crutch leaning against the wall, covered in dust, unused for quite some time. "No," she gasped, tears filling her eyes. "Oh, no, not Dinky, not Dinky!"

Twilight's eyes were starting to well up as well. "It seems we've received a blessing," she said. "You wouldn't believe it, but I happened to run into Miss Trixie's niece on the way back. Do you remember, I told you about her? It might not be so hard to find a new job after all. And Babs, you could get that apprenticeship you've been searching for."

"She just offered that to you, sight unseen?" Flash said in surprise.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Twilight said, gazing out the window. "She was always coming by Trixie's office, trying to bond with her old aunt. We spoke then. I feel that we became friends. And I feel… that maybe this is the path that Celestia meant for me to take. This… this whole thing." She hung her head and fell silent.

Nearly a minute later, she raised her eyes again. "She's a good soul. Cadance, I mean. The niece. You'd have to see her to believe it, but there's no purer pony in Canterlot. Working with her wouldn't just be a blessing, it would be an honor."

The three little ones had a rapid-fire, whispered exchange with each other, which resulted in Aria and Sonata forcefully shoving Adagio out into the center of the room. She glared at them, then turned to Twilight. "Mom? We were thinking about pulling our weight around here too. Can we get our own jobs?" As an afterthought, she smiled.

"That's sweet of you three," said Twilight, "but the best thing you can do right now is keep on going to school. Learn. That's the best gift you can give to me, far better than any financial contribution you could make for the family." She kissed the tops of their heads one by one, adjusted the fire with her magic, and walked over to the window.

"The church in all its details…" she mused. "I tried to imagine what Dinky would say on that visit. All her questions, all her observations, I hear them in my mind as clearly as if she was at my side… but I'll never hear such things again." She turned to face her family. "Life is full of journeys, but the journey doesn't end when a life does. When we die, all those around us remain, all those whom we have touched continue their journeys, and so on. So you see, life, it never ends. Stories never end. It's a beautiful thing.

"So let us give thanks, for our good health, and that we were able to see Dinky Doo along on her journey… and that she shall be in our hearts always as we continue with ours. Our sadness lingers, but we can remember the happiness that Dinky brought us when she was still with us, and that happiness shall never leave us. Happiness that stays in your heart forever is called joy, and I think I… am joyful."

One by one, she hugged the members of her family—all of her daughters, first the three little ones, then Babs, and finally Sunset, who looked deeply into her mother's eyes and nodded with understanding. Twilight proceeded to embrace Spike and Applejack, giving them whispered thanks, and finally, squeezing Flash tightly as if her life depended on it.

"If you'll excuse me… I think I need to get some rest," she said softly. "Be strong, family. I love you all."

She left the room without another word, and Trixie followed her frantically, through the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Twilight!" Trixie called. "Twilight, please, wait for me. Oh, Twilight…"

She had lost all reason and grip, forgotten that Twilight could not see or hear her, forgotten that she wasn't truly present. Twilight had trudged into her room, and Trixie was desperate to get there before the door was closed. Soon, it was limned by Twilight's magic aura, and Trixie leaped to close the distance, slipping in silently.

Twilight had turned around to face the door, so Trixie found herself looking directly into her clerk's eyes. "Twilight…" she whispered.

Twilight looked through her, unaware of her presence, her lip quivering, her eyes glinting with moisture.

"Twilight?" Trixie asked.

As if triggered by Trixie speaking, Twilight bawled, her entire body heaving with her great, loud sobs. Twilight threw herself onto her bed and addressed the sky. "Why?" she demanded through her anguished tears. "Oh, why?"

As the sobbing went on, Trixie felt a cold shiver up her spine, and knew that it signified Sombra creeping up behind her.

"Sombra… you don't say much," she noted. "I don't know how, but I get the feeling that you want me to know that our time together will soon be at its end."

He swirled around and around her again, this time bringing her to an old, crumbling church. Nearly blinded by the bright sun on the fresh snowfall, Trixie squinted and saw that Sombra was pointing her in the direction of the church's graveyard.

She flinched. "I have no interest in seeing Dinky Doo's grave."

Sombra shook his head slowly, smirking, and pushed her forward with a bizarrely solid smoky tendril. She stumbled at his unexpected shove. "All right, all right," she grumbled, walking toward the graveyard willingly.

Two nearly-identical yellow unicorn stallions with candy-striped manes were levitating shovels in their vibrantly green magic auras, using them to pat down the dirt on a grave they had just refilled.

"Ha! Well, that was altogether a waste of time," one of them was saying. "What's the point of a proper Celestial burial for a pony we all know is damned anyway?"

"It certainly is pathetic, brother," said the other, who had a slightly deeper voice and a mustache. "Died all alone, along with her name, and not a single soul showed up for her funeral service."

"Yes," the first one pondered. "The only question is why we needed to dig the grave. Shouldn't it have been the pastor who's always darning socks?"

His brother paused, looking confused for a second, then gasped as he understood. "Oh! Like in the Beatles song!"

"Yes, yes, that's it exactly!"

The two of them sauntered off, their annoying laughter echoing in Trixie's ears as they disappeared.

Trixie stayed far away from the grave, and time sped up around her, afternoon becoming night with great speed. Street lamps came up, and wind and snow began swirling, first at a high speed, and then normal again as time resumed its normal flow.

She turned; Sombra was floating at her eye level now. "Go," he said. "Look at it."

Trixie swallowed. "I… I am no fool, Sombra. I know all too well what I'm going to see when I look upon that gravestone," she lied. "You've been showing me all these things for the purpose of teaching me a lesson, well, consider it taught. I see the error of my ways, so we can end this now, and you can take me home and we'll all go off on our way, there's really no need to go over there and—"

"LOOK! AT! IT!" Sombra bellowed, his body swirling like a tempest.

"…Yes," she squeaked. "Y-yes, very well."

She stepped up to the grave, squinting nervously in the darkness and bracing herself against the cold gusts of wind that were going by. It was too dark to see the stone.

Sombra expanded into a bigger cloud of blackness, which produced a lightning crackle, an immense and deafening flash which made the gravestone visible: it was an elaborate carving of Trixie's stern, bitter face. She gasped and dropped to her knees.

"Me," she whispered. "It was me all along."

Sombra laughed, and in a rush of swirling smoke manifested a solid body. He was huge, and covered in steely armored plates and a red cape. His eyes and mane were still flowing with power, and he continued to fill the air with deep, powerful, wicked laughter.

"Sombra!" Trixie cried out, her mane whipping in the wind. "Sombra, tell me. These visions you've shown me, this future—does this future need to happen? Or is it what may happen? If I return home and change the path my life is taking, can I change this future?"

Sombra only kept laughing. Crystal walls, like those in the empty city where Trixie and Sombra had met, rose up around them, boxing them in an area of only a few dozen square feet.

Trixie's grave opened under her hooves, and she fell in and landed heavily on top of the casket. Dazed, she stared in confusion at the wood up against her face, then gasped when she realized what had just happened, and scrambled back to her hooves, casting a desperate gaze up at Sombra.

"Dear Sombra, no!" she cried. "I have changed! I am not the pony I was! These visits from yourself and the other spirits, this was meant to change me and it has! It has! So am I still to be the forgotten wretch who dies alone in this future, even if my heart has changed? This cannot be!"

She clawed at the grave's walls as portions of it grew deeper and deeper.

"Sombra!" she pleaded, tears streaking down her face. "My soul is the soul of Hearth's Warming Eve! I shall remember its tenets every day as long as I shall live, and give them to the world around me! I will live in the past and the present and the future and keep their spirits alive within me! You know I will!"

He just kept laughing, and the storm grew more and more powerful, snow swirling and thunder crashing. In one particularly tiny hole in the grave, an orange blaze began to increase in intensity.

"Why?" Trixie wailed. "Why show me all of this only to end me now?"

He grinned. "Why indeed?"

Sombra cackled as the grave crumbled completely.

"No!" Trixie screamed. "NOOOOOO!"

She lost her grip and tumbled down, down, down toward the lake of fire below… and landed, firmly, in her own bed.

Author's Note

As you might expect, I considered having Sombra just be a silent character, given the whole Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come thing, but decided it would be almost as scary for him to just talk the way Sombra talks.

Twilight's speech has two inspirations. The first half, about being able to imagine what Dinky would say, reflects my own experience after my grandmother died. Whenever we watched a movie or a show, she had a lot of questions, and whenever I watched anything without her, I could almost hear the questions she would ask, which didn't end after she died.

The second half, about how a journey doesn't end when a life does, that's a philosophical counterpoint to views expressed by a former friend of mine who I met when he reviewed my big MLP fic, Romance and the Fate of Equestria. We clashed on a lot of things, and one of them was the fact that RFE was (and still is) a long-runner with no end in sight. He wasn't fond of that sort of story; he said that typically he only reads or watches series which are already over, and that he always looks toward the ending because "life is a journey ended by death". Me, that's not my style. I like stories with no ending in sight because... that's life. Life in a story doesn't end when the credits roll or you stop reading, and the story of your life doesn't end when you die, because you've left people behind who have their own stories to continue.

In a way, that's... kind of what fanfiction is all about. It's about not letting stories die.

The End of It

"Wait, what?" Trixie said aloud.

She sat up slowly. She was all tucked in beneath her covers, and her curtains were drawn tightly. Apprehensively, she pulled them back, and deflated with a mighty sigh of relief at the discovery that she was in her own room, sunlight filtering in through the window.

"I'm awake…" she said with dawning excitement. "I… I'm alive! Celestia be praised! It's not too late, I can… I can live! Hello, bed curtains!" She flung herself out of bed and danced around the room on her hind legs, twirling and leaping. "Hello, chairs and fireplace!"

She paused at the sight of the carvings on her fireplace: Sombra being turned to shadow, Discord turned to stone, Nightmare Moon being sealed within the moon. An emotional lump rose in her throat. "Hello, friends," she said with a sniffle. "I… I can change the future."

She threw back her head and laughed hysterically for minutes on end, until she was simply too exhausted to do so anymore. "Agh, too much laughter," she wheezed, shakily sitting down in her favorite chair. She eyed the other chair, where the ghost of Gilda had sat. "Two chairs," Trixie realized, and smiled. "I've always had it in me."

With effort, she got back to her hooves and walked to her bedroom window. "Ah, the window Gilda shoved me through," she pondered. "Repaired. Or… never broken in the first place? Hmm. I suppose it doesn't matter. Goodness me, how long have I been gone? At least three days, surely… ah, but that doesn't matter either. In my heart it shall always be Hearth's Warming Eve, mm-hmm…" She opened the window and poked her head out.

"You there!" she called. "You two boys!"

Two little colts in the middle of the otherwise-empty street turned to look at her in surprise, the short one remarking "Huh?" while the taller of the two chewed on something absently. Trixie gasped in delight at the realization that she recognized them from her visions of the present, despite the fact that she had never actually met them in her life.

"What day is it?" Trixie called to them.

"Huh?" the short one said again, looking even more alarmed.

"The date, good fellows, what day is it?" she urged.

"You okay, lady?" he said in concern. "It's Hearth's Warming Eve, of course!"

Trixie rocked back on her heels. "I haven't missed it," she breathed. "It all happened in one night. Well, I'll be blessed." Raising her voice again, she asked, "May I have your names, boys?"

"I'm Snips, and this is Snails," the little one replied.

"Fine names," she said with admiration. "You may call me Trixie. Boys, I need you to do something for me."

"Uh, okay," Snips said blankly.

"Have you been to the florist's?" she said eagerly, remembering that that was exactly where she had seen them. "Seen the huge arrangement of poinsettias that's just been put up? And the fresh bread at the bakery beside it?"

"Mmmm, yeah," Snails drawled, speaking for the first time. "We were just on our way there to stare at it."

Without a word, Trixie tossed a large coin at them, where it landed heavily in the snow. They peered at it, then their jaws dropped in unison. "Whoa!" Snips exclaimed. "What's this? Is this a five-bit coin?"

"Yes, yes it is," Trixie said smugly. "And I'll give you another one if you use that coin to buy the flower arrangement and the bread, the biggest and best that they have, and bring them back here. Come back in under five minutes and I'll make it two." And with that, she vanished into her house.

The two colts stared at the huge coin.

"Snails, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Snips said slyly.

"Uh, if Rudolph is the most famous reindeer of all, why does the song assume that we remember all the others but not him?" Snails guessed.

"I… that's… oh, just come on! Miss Trixie said we have five minutes." They scooped up the coin and ran off.

Back inside, Trixie had changed out of her nightclothes and into her best suit and hat, which were old but elegant, giggling all the while. "Delightful boys," she said to herself. "They're sure to become something big, end up in all the newspapers…"

She skipped into the hall and skidded her way to the top of the stairs, where she saw Zecora dusting some shelves on the ground floor.

"ZECORA, DARLING!" Trixie roared, racing down the stairs and leaping upon the zebra, giving her a huge, tight hug. "You came! You're here on time, as you always are. You're an amazing mare, Zecora! I simply must give you a raise worthy of your performance." She jumped up and down, spinning herself and the dumbfounded Zecora in a circle, before pulling away and looking the maid over with thoughtful eyes. "What are you doing, dusting? Nonsense! It's Hearth's Warming Eve! That's no kind of day for menial labor!"

Zecora stared back at Trixie with apprehension. "Well, it's finally happened," she said dryly. "You've had enough. When they take you to the loony bin, I call your stuff."

"Oh, I know you've always wanted to steal my possessions, Zecora," Trixie said solemnly. "By all means, take what you please. What good are things, if they are not gifts given from the heart? Consider anything I own a gift from me to you."

"You are most wondrously strange," Zecora marveled grimly. "Either you've gone mad, or you've—"

"Changed," Trixie agreed, nodding her head. "I've changed, Zecora. I'm not the pony who so heartlessly disregarded you every night since we've known each other. I've gained an understanding of what others' lives are like, including yours. You're dismissed for today. And if it would help your situation, I truly mean it, do help yourself to my belongings. Heaven knows I never use them."

Zecora continued peering suspiciously back at Trixie, who simply waited for a response with a bright smile. Eventually, she looked around at her surroundings, then sighed and turned to leave the house.

"Very good, dear Zecora," Trixie said kindly, following behind her. "Go home. Be with the ones you love. I'm terribly sorry to have kept you away from them."

Zecora opened the doors and started down the stone path through the yard, and Trixie fell behind, writing down an address as she too slipped out the door and closed it behind her. Once she had made her final pen stroke, her door knocker caught her eye, her ordinary wood and stone door knocker.

She lifted a hoof and lovingly caressed the decoration. "Thank you, Gilda," she whispered.

"Miss Trixie! Miss Trixie!"

Snips and Snails raced onto her property, passing by Zecora in a rush of wind, levitating the flowers and the bread in their weak, sputtering magic auras.

"You can thank me for telling the bakers and the florists which ones you wanted," Snails said proudly.

Snips jangled their change. "Well, you can thank me for actually paying them," he countered. "And for making sure this idiot didn't eat the poinsettias on the way over here. …Well, didn't eat all the poinsettias."

In response, Snails belched.

"Well done, boys," Trixie said gleefully. "Such nice boys. Here you are." She floated them each a single, big coin. "Ready for the second half of your job, boys?"

"Oh, you betcha, Miss Trixie!" Snips said eagerly.

"Bring the food to this address," said Trixie, presenting them with the slip of parchment, "to the family of one Twilight Sparkle. Do not, I repeat, do not tell them who sent you. This is an anonymous gift."

Snips saluted. "I shall perform my duty admirably, Miss Trixie. Snails! Call me a cab!"

Snails, chewing on a leaf of one of the poinsettias, took a second to realize that he was being addressed. "What?" he said blankly.

Snips rolled his eyes, irritated at the momentum being lost. "Call me a cab," he enunciated.

After another moment of uncertain hesitation, Snails blankly replied, "You're a cab."

Snips took a moment to process that, then sighed in frustration. "Never mind, I'll do it." He stepped out into the streets and whistled loudly. Moments later, a taxicarriage pulled over, pulled by a gray-bearded pony in an odd hat. The two colts piled in, and Trixie showed the address to the cabbie.

"Take them here, please," she said, bowing down to him. "May Celestia bless and watch over you, on your way to this destination and in all of your future endeavors. And Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you!" She waved at him as he left. "Thank you! Thank you!"

As she faded away, the cabbie looked over his shoulder at the two boys. "She lays it on a little thick, don't she?"

Snips shrugged. "I dunno, I like it!"

~0~0~0~

"Oh, what to do next?" Trixie pondered as she trotted down the street. With no course in mind, she simply kept moving, turning corners at random and giving her enthusiastic blessings to everypony she came across.

After a few minutes of her wanderings, she spotted two familiar faces across the street and stopped dead, her heart gripped with sorrow and regret. Taking a deep breath, mentally steeling herself for possible rejection, she crossed the road to meet them. "Miss Rarity. Miss Fluttershy. I hope your charitable endeavor of yesterday was successful. Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you."

They peered at her in confusion, unable to recognize her with her new posture and expression. After a few seconds, Rarity started in surprise and squinted to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Miss… Trixie?"

"Eep!" Fluttershy exclaimed, hiding behind Rarity.

"Yes, it's me," Trixie said, hanging her head in shame. "I deeply, profoundly, and most humbly apologize for my behavior yesterday evening. I've had a… rather abrupt change of heart, though it didn't feel quite so abrupt for me, let me tell you—but never mind that, never mind. My point is this: I am fully prepared to make my donation to your organization. As it happens, I've already written you a check."

She produced it from an inside pocket and held it up to them. Rarity gawked at it in surprise, and Fluttershy peeked over her shoulder nervously.

"Miss Trixie!" Rarity gasped. "Are you quite certain?"

"I am," Trixie said confidently. "That will be the first of many future installments. All anonymous, of course. I'll have no word getting out that I'm behind it. I do this for only one reason: that food and shelter are Celestia-given rights that nopony should ever have to go without. We'll be in touch, dear ladies. For many years to come if I can help it." She turned to leave, then called over her shoulder: "Oh, and Fluttershy?"

Fluttershy winced in response.

"While I have a few too many urgent things to do today," Trixie said, "and while needless to say I'm already sold on assisting your charity, I would love to hear that musical number of yours sometime." She winked.

Fluttershy and Rarity looked at each other, looking stunned at first and then, seemingly, inspired. "M-merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, Miss Trixie," Fluttershy stammered, a smile growing on her face.

"Yes," Rarity agreed. "Yes, and may Celestia bless you."

Trixie nodded. "She does bless me. Probably in more ways than I'll ever know."

~0~0~0~

Trixie went by her place of work, where the trio of dogs were beginning to open up.

"Gentlemen, there'll be no need for that," she said grandly, making a beeline for them. "Change of plans: we'll be closed today. Though while I've got you here, I think you three should be part of a little experiment I'm conducting vis-à-vis changing the way things operate around here."

Baffled, the three of them stared at her, shivering in fear. "W-what experiment is that, Miss Trixie?" Rover dared to ask.

"I'm going to start charging rates that are a bit less… draconian," said Trixie. "If we charged reasonable rates, we'd get a lot more done, we'd be a lot more attractive to prospective clients, and…" She let that hang until they leaned in, intrigued. "And I'd be able to pay reasonable wages."

They rocked back on their heels at that. "What are you saying?" Fido breathed.

Trixie started circling around them, a spring in her step. "Gentlemen, I am a businesspony who lends money to ponies largely so they can rent houses. What injustice is it, then, that some of my own employees live under a bridge? What I'm saying is that I'd like to do whatever I can to get you three a place to live. I'm going to lend to you, at my recently-lowered interest rate. Eventually, with your newly-raised wages, it should be more than easy enough to pay off."

Rover looked disheartened. "We don't exactly like to advertise that we live under a bridge…"

She put a hoof to his mouth. "Shh, there's no shame in it. I'm going to do whatever I can to help you. Do you accept?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rover said immediately. He tilted his head in concern. "How did you know where we live?"

"No time, gentlemen," she said hastily. "I have ever so much to do. Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you!" She waved to them and raced off into the street, and they waved back, still a bit perplexed. "Don't bother to come in tomorrow—I'll take care of everything!"

At the end of the block, she saw five familiar carolers, accompanied by an owl.

Though quarrels arise, their numbers are few
Laughter and singing will see us through
Will see us through

The carolers skipped a beat at the realization that Trixie had joined them, slipping in surreptitiously as if she had been among them all along. She motioned encouragingly for them to continue, and they gained their momentum back.

We are a circle of pony friends
A circle of friends we'll be to the very end!

On the final note, Trixie produced bursts of fireworks above their heads, one after the other, causing many passers-by to halt in their tracks and gasp in surprise and awe. Cheers filled the streets, and several ponies eagerly dropped some coins into the group's little collection tin. Without a word, Trixie threw in her own rather hefty tip, then tipped her hat to the carolers and departed.

~0~0~0~

Trixie knocked on the door of a decently-sized but unassuming house. An enormous white stallion in a little black dress answered, staring her down with eerie red eyes.

"Oh, hello," Trixie said pleasantly. "Mr.… Bulk, isn't it?"

"YEAH!" he bellowed.

"We've never actually met," Trixie admitted, "but I'd like to see Madam Cadance. Is she available? …I'm her aunt."

He looked surprised, and quietly beckoned for her to enter. Clearly, dinner had only just begun: Cadance, her husband, and all of her guests were just beginning to sit down at the dining table.

"And then…" Cadance was saying through barely-suppressed laughter. "And then she asked me, dead serious, what Celestia had ever done for me. Because I'm poor, right? And I asked her, well, why would she reject Celestia when she's been blessed with—"

"Cadance," Trixie said quietly.

The dining room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the entrance of the room. Bulk stepped aside to reveal Trixie, who smiled sheepishly. Shining Armor's jaw dropped.

Cadance snorted with disdain and turned away haughtily. "Who are you?" she sneered.

"Cadance, it's me… your Aunt Trixie," she said, wounded.

"No, no, see, I spoke to my Aunt Trixie yesterday, and she made it perfectly clear that she wouldn't be coming here today. And since you're here, you couldn't possibly be her. You obviously must be somepony else."

Trixie's lip quivered with sorrow. "It is I, Cadance. I am sorry for the things I said. All I want now is for us to be a family. May I join you?"

Cadance stood up, staring coldly at Trixie through narrow eyes, and slowly crossed the room, sneering all the while. Trixie shrank back under her ferocious glare. And then…

"Of course you can, dear sweet Auntie," Cadance said, suddenly warm and gracious. "That's all I ever wanted."

She pulled Trixie into a crushing hug. "ACK!" Trixie squeaked.

"Everypony, this is my Aunt Trixie!" Cadance said gleefully, presenting her to the room. "Come say hi!"

All of the party guests swarmed around her, one by one giving her a hoofshake or a tiny hug.

"HI, AUNT TRIXIE!" Pinkie Pie shrieked, tackling her before giving her a full-bodied squeeze.

"Not that it matters in the slightest, Auntie," Cadance said to Trixie's prone, struggling form, "but what made you change your mind?"

"Something I saw in a dream, I suppose," Trixie replied, extricating herself from Pinkie's embrace and standing up. "I dreamt of this party, and… and felt sad that I wasn't part of it."

"Oh, Auntie," Cadance said tenderly.

And as easy as that, Trixie had joined the party. They dined, and they played their games just as Trixie had witnessed, only this time, she was indeed a part of it.

"Next year, we must have this dinner at my house," Trixie said at one point during the evening. "I insist. I'll spare no expense. After all, you can't take it with you, can you?"

Cadance tilted her head. "That seems as if it's lifted from somewhere."

Trixie shrugged. "Perhaps."

~0~0~0~

The next morning, Twilight frantically ran down the street, struggling through the ice, and rushed into the office under the faded Gilda and Trixie sign.

Breathing heavily from her exertion and wincing from the lingering pain of a mild hangover, Twilight sighed in relief when it seemed that the office was empty… until a candle was lit in her own little closet, revealing Trixie. "You're late, Miss Sparkle," she said ominously.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Trixie. As I said before, it's only once a year." She grinned weakly, terrified and desperate.

"Yes, I'm sure it is," Trixie said darkly. "I'd wager that after your multitude of children went to bed, you dipped into some cheap booze in a pitiful attempt at merrymaking, have I got that right?"

"S-something such as that, Miss Trixie," Twilight stammered.

Trixie started toward her menacingly. "You're pathetic. There's only one thing that can be done about this. I'm going to have to give you a raise." She smiled brightly.

"Huh… whuh… uh… er… wha… wha-wha-what?" Twilight replied as coherently as she could manage.

"You like that little fake-out?" Trixie said happily. "It's funny, isn't it? Little something I got from my niece last night." She planted a quick kiss on Twilight's lips and marched purposefully out into the office, leaving the clerk blinking in bewilderment and scarcely able to comprehend Trixie's words.

"Yes, I shall give you a raise and I shall do whatever else needs to be done to save your struggling family, so that you may someday indulge in real merrymaking, not the pale and drunken imitation you're forced to endure," Trixie announced. "Your daughter, Dinky Doo—she's sick. She needs a doctor. I will provide that for her, but I'd wager that what she really needs to get her health back up is better living conditions. I shall arrange that as well. And another of your daughters, the second-oldest, Babs; I hear she searches for an apprenticeship. I can do that. And if there's anything else your family needs, you have but to name it, my dear Twilight. I'm at your service."

"…What?" Twilight demanded, still in shock.

Trixie turned back to face Twilight and bowed her head. "I've turned my life around this Hearth's Warming Eve, Twilight. I'm not the Trixie you knew two evenings ago. You return now to a changed pony. Now, on to important business… namely, why is it so damn cold in here?"

She opened the furnace to find it empty. "Well, that explains it, there's never any coal in this bloody thing." Her horn lit up and she shoveled a scoop of coal in.

"If you would," said Trixie, "I'm changing how things work around here, so you and I have a good bit of 'clerking' to do this morning." She lifted her front hooves to put quotation marks around the word. "But this afternoon, my friend, this afternoon… let's get ourselves into some nice cozy armchairs by a roaring fire, and discuss your affairs over a bottle of this stuff." She presented Twilight with a vintage bottle of wine. "This is good stuff. And if I haven't said so already, Twilight, merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, with all my heart."

Twilight blinked rapidly many times. Almost hysterical with shock and alarm, her only response was, "Wha-a-a-at?"

Trixie chuckled. "Just 'merry Hearth's Warming Eve'. Nothing else."

~0~0~0~

A year passed.

A pleasant, leisurely snow was falling, and Trixie slowly strolled down the street. Her aged face, once etched with the lines of the sour expression she had worn for years, had become accustomed to smiles.

Dinky was riding on her back, captivated as they passed by a new church.

On one side of the white marble building were three stained-glass windows, each depicting one of the three ancient spirits being defeated by Celestia.

"Quite a depiction of that vile lot of villains, eh?" Trixie said wryly. "Of course, Celestia's word teaches us that none are truly evil at their core. I should know that better than anypony. Just look at what I used to be. And I can tell you it applies to these three as well."

Dinky smiled. "You've told me that before, but you still won't explain what you mean."

Trixie only winked in reply.

"Aunt Trixie, I… I think I'm good to walk again now."

"Ah!" Trixie said delightedly. "As you wish, darling Dinky."

She helped Dinky down to the ground. The tiny filly no longer wore her brace or her crutch, but still hobbled along and quivered as she walked.

"Oh, Dinky, what an improvement a year has made," Trixie marveled. "It warms my heart ever so much so see how much stronger you've grown. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood family."

Dinky slowly turned around to face her, carefully placing her hooves. "We are family, Aunt Trixie," she said, beaming. "You're like another mother to me."

Trixie put a hoof to her chest. "Oh, Dinky, you honor me too much. It's lonely at the top, but I will accept that pedestal. And to think… it truly has been a year! Hearth's Warming Eve again already. It sprang upon me rather suddenly, I must admit…"

"It didn't seem sudden to me," said Dinky. "You make every day feel like Hearth's Warming Eve. That's what they're always saying about you, everywhere in the city: that nopony has the Hearth's Warming Eve spirit more than Trixie."

"It's just the way I live, darling," Trixie said brightly. "Hearth's Warming Eve is not merely a day, it's a way of life."

A nearby shop window suddenly caught her eye, a huge display window with three panes. In the first pane, Trixie could see a reflection which was not her own: Nightmare Moon, who smiled at her encouragingly and faded away. In the second window, Discord appeared and waved at her giddily; in the third, King Sombra gave her a curt and respectful nod.

A light gust of wind blew past the window, creating a small tempest of snow. Absently, Trixie's eyes followed the snow, and she saw a figure contained within it, wispy and barely visible in the intense sunlight: the translucent specter of Gilda. As Trixie watched, Gilda's chains fell away, and she stretched her arms and wings, letting out an inaudible sigh of intense relief. She gazed at Trixie with profound gratitude, the biggest smile Trixie had ever seen on her, tears dripping down her face.

Gilda vanished in a burst of bright light, which flew off into the sky. Trixie followed the light until it was absorbed into the sun, which Trixie could only stand to look at for a split second before averting her gaze—but in that fleeting moment, she had caught a glimpse of a pair of amazing white wings and a long horn, a mane that flowed and swirled in a rainbow of pastel colors.

She turned to Dinky, who had no awareness of what had just transpired.

"May Celestia bless and watch over us," Trixie whispered.

Dinky smiled at her. "Oh, don't say things like that. It's like I always say, Aunt Trixie: may Celestia bless and watch over everypony."

Trixie bent down and nuzzled the filly with her face. "Yes. You do say that, don't you?" She picked Dinky up, loading her onto her back again, and tearfully glanced back into the sky. "May Celestia bless and watch over everypony."

the end

Author's Note

"The End of It" actually is the title of the final chapter of the Dickens book, so I thought, hey, let's go with that. I suck at titles, might as well go with a well-named chapter title to give us some closure after the previous five tacky ones.

If you haven't noticed, yes, the poinsettias are actually the centerpiece of the meal, rather than merely decorations. Had to make this a pony story somehow, didn't I...

The first thing I did when I came up with the idea for this story, two years ago now, was go to the library and borrow a copy of the original Dickens story, as I'd never actually read it. Later, I bought a copy of my very own. I then watched as many adaptations of the story as I could to get a few ideas for shaking it up a bit. For instance, the fact that Dinky Doo appears in the first chapter is inspired by the George C. Scott adaptation, in which Tiny Tim comes to see his father near the beginning of the film. I loved that. It was so much more dramatically structured than the usual path of introducing Tim in the middle of the story.

As I mentioned before, the presence of the Diamond Dogs was inspired by the rats who work for Scrooge in the Muppet adaptation starring Michael Caine; those got the wheels turning to give the dogs a few original scenes. The Jim Carrey adaptation, I was surprised to learn, is nearly a word-for-word reproduction of the book, plus a few additions. One of those additions is a line in which Scrooge insists to Fred and company that he host Christmas dinner next year: it was such a well-written line that I felt the need to reproduce it, word-for-word. It is indeed lifted from somewhere.

I wanted to see the version starring Scrooge McDuck, it probably would have helped me give the story MLP's cartoon sensibilities, but I couldn't find it. There are even a few lines of dialogue inspired, loosely, by the Epic Rap Battles of History version of the story... indeed, that's probably what inspired me to create the story in the first place. And then the ending scene, of Gilda being freed of her chains and a glimpse of Celestia, is inspired by a stage adaptation which I've read about but never seen, in which the story starts with God giving the spirits their assignments, and ends with Him personally removing Marley's chains. Or something like that. Again, haven't seen it.

What I'm saying here is that... well... adaptations of A Christmas Carol are really cool and I urge you to check out as many of them as possible. If only so you realize that I didn't actually steal all that much from said other adaptations, most of it really did come out of my own head. It's been a journey for me, trying to write like Dickens, trying to make a story that's grown overly familiar be emotionally moving again... trying to bring Christmas into the hearts of my fellow fanfiction aficionados. Trying. It seems I've failed. Ah well. Thank you anyway, and goodnight.

The Day's Visitors

It was an overcast day in Canterlot. The sky was almost white from the sun's light trying to pierce the thin layer of gloomy gray clouds. The ground was covered in more ice than snow, and what snow was left had gone grayish and was piled up along the sides of the cobblestone streets.

It was the day before Hearth's Warming Eve, and as such, decorations abounded, tinsel hanging from every roof with great colorful orbs hanging down from it. A single building on the street, however, had foregone the festive adornments. It was a counting house, shabby from what appeared to be years of disuse and abandonment, but its business had been consistently active for decades; it was worn down only from neglect and apathy.

In the cold and dark office, Trixie worked behind a desk. She was a middle-aged blue unicorn with a wispy white mane, her face lined with her years. She wore a suit which had once been sleek and black but had grown old and cheaply patched, and her deep frown looked as though it hadn't budged in years.

Trixie worked mindlessly by the light of a single candle, seemingly having no trouble doing so. In a small side room, her clerk was working under the same circumstances, but was clearly struggling to see in the darkness, and shivering in the cold. The young clerk was Twilight Sparkle, a pale purple alicorn, small for the breed, her physique barely different from that of an ordinary pony.

Twilight glanced occasionally at Trixie, at the coal stove in her office, where Trixie's three other employees, a trio of mangy diamond dogs, were gathered as they filed reports and answered letters. Twilight stared longingly at the stove, but decided against attempting to work there herself; there scarcely seemed to be more than one coal burning, and that small increase in warmth would surely not be worth Trixie's reaction.

A tiny bell rang as the door to the counting house opened, and a tall and thin mare bounded in with all the bounce and enthusiasm of a young child. "Hello, Miss Sparkle!" she said brightly. "Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you!"

Twilight beamed. "To you as well, Miss Cadance."

"And a very merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, Auntie!" Cadance said to Trixie. "May Celestia bless and watch over you!"

Trixie's niece was a pink alicorn with magnificent purple wings and striking eyes, and in harsh contrast to Trixie herself, wore a broad toothy grin which at the present moment seemed permanently imprinted upon her face. Trixie inspected her face with disdain before scoffing, "Pfft. What a load of hooey."

Cadance's smile faltered. "'Hooey'? You're calling Hearth's Warming Eve a load of hooey?"

"Well, yes," said Trixie. "What reason do you have for celebrating the holy time of Celestia? What's she ever done for you? You're poorer and no better off than you ever were."

Cadance leaned across Trixie's desk. "And what reason do you have for denying her? You've built yourself a grand fortune from absolutely nothing. You should be thanking Celestia for her blessings."

"I did that by myself," Trixie retorted. "Celestia played no part. If she were to get up off her divine keister sometime and actually give a hoof in aid to somepony, I might believe there's something to this whole 'may Celestia bless and watch over you' business, but as long as she remains far away and beyond the reach of mortal perception, I say you are spouting nothing but hooey!"

"But Auntie, that's what Hearth's Warming Eve is all about," Cadance said in a pained voice. "For remembering the time when Celestia did walk among us, all the things she did to save us, and holding faith that she watches over us still."

"And is that how you choose to thank her?" Trixie sneered. "By succumbing to sin, taking a day off of work for sloth and gluttony, making frivolous purchases of gifts that punch your finances in the gut? Finding yourself, at the end of the year, a year older, fatter, uglier, and having to do the whole thing over again? How much of a fool a pony must be to go about saying 'Merry Hearth's Warming Eve', and it would seem we live in a whole world full of such fools!" She glared at Cadance. "And the scariest part is that sometimes I think they truly mean it. I'd like to see them all skewered."

"Auntie…" Cadance pleaded.

"Cease your whining, niece," Trixie spat. "Let's forego these meaningless and futile entanglements. You celebrate Hearth's Warming Eve your way, I'll do it my way."

"Your way?" Cadance said skeptically. "Your way, meaning not celebrating Hearth's Warming Eve at all."

Trixie seethed. "Yes. Was that not clear?"

Cadance narrowed her eyes, and placed both of her front hooves on Trixie's desk, to tower over her aunt. "There are better things a pony may gain than profit, dear aunt," she said forcefully. "Yes, I have never gained a penny from Hearth's Warming Eve, but every year, it never fails to make me a richer pony. It's the time of year when all creatures under the sun and the moon seem to come together in friendship and harmony, where no pony stands above another, where we remember that we are all the children of this earth. Hearth's Warming Eve has enriched me in my soul, Auntie, and I know beyond a doubt that it will continue doing so for many years to come, and it can do the same for you if you would but open your heart to its kindness and love!"

Twilight sat up in her chair and tapped her front hooves together in applause. Trixie's head snapped toward her with a ferocious glare. Terrified, Twilight hastily puffed out the candle on her desk, extinguishing its light and leaving the small side room pitch dark, so that Trixie could not see her anymore.

"A charming speech," Trixie said coldly to Cadance. "You should have been a politician."

Cadance rolled her eyes, then sighed and looked to the floor. "Auntie… I came here to ask you to dine with me tomorrow," she said tenderly. "You and I are the only family we have left in the world, all I wish is for us to be friends. My husband has invited his entire extended family to the grandest feast we could manage this Hearth's Warming Eve, and it would honor us all to see you there… your absence would be a void in the family."

"This husband of yours," said Trixie. "Tell me, when he courted you, what did he promise? He had no means with which to provide for you, his wealth and well-being could scarcely serve to better your way of life at all. So why marry such a stallion?"

"I love him, Auntie," Cadance said promptly. "I married him because I love him."

Trixie looked incensed. "Burn. In. Hell," she enunciated.

Tears filled Cadance's eyes. "Auntie…" she peeped. "You… you make me sad. Truly, you do. But I cannot say I didn't try. I came to wish you a merry Hearth's Warming Eve, and I still wish that upon you. Merry Hearth's Warming Eve to you, Aunt Trixie."

"Get out," Trixie growled.

"May Celestia bless and watch over you!" she said, more forcefully.

"Out!"

"AND HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Cadance bellowed.

"GO AWAY!" Trixie roared back.

Cadance nodded, and turned to the three diamond dogs gathered at the furnace. "Good day to you, gentlemen," she said. They smiled weakly and nodded to her, and she started for the door. "Nice to see you again, Miss Sparkle," she called to the darkness in the other room.

"You as well," Twilight said softly. "May Celestia bless and watch over you."

"Oh, she does, my dear lady," Cadance said sweetly. "She does. May she do the same for you."

"Oh, sure, Celestia watch over Twilight Sparkle," Trixie muttered to herself. "The pony who must try to support her husband and children on fifteen bits a week, yes, very blessed, that one. Idiocy…"

Cadance opened the door, to find two other ponies standing there who had been about to knock.

"Hello!" she crowed in an overdramatic, almost insane fashion. "Well met, dear ladies! MERRY HEARTH'S WARMING EEEEEEVE!" She slipped in between them and off into the streets, dancing and prancing as she did so.

The two well-dressed ponies entered the counting house, staring in amused confusion over their shoulders at the retreating figure of Cadance. One was a white unicorn with an elegantly styled mane, the other a yellow pegasus who carried herself in a delicate posture, almost as if she might break at the slightest sudden movement.

"Pardon me, ma'am," said the unicorn. "Would this be the office of Miss Gilda and Miss Trixie?"

"It is," Trixie replied.

"Ah, good. And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Miss Gilda has been dead seven years," Trixie said emotionlessly. "She died seven years ago this very night."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that," the unicorn said sympathetically. "Miss Trixie, then?"

Trixie glared but didn't answer.

"Lovely!" said the unicorn, undeterred. "I am Rarity, and this is my friend and business partner Fluttershy. We are here collecting donations for charity."

Trixie raised an eyebrow at Fluttershy, who had begun to slouch and shiver in discomfort from the first moment Trixie had spoken.

"In the Hearth's Warming Eve season," Rarity continued, "as we all know, the fire of friendship keeps us all warm, but for the poor and homeless, who have no hearth to warm themselves by, they depend on the harmony between ponies more than any other. Thousands are depending on the kindness and generosity of their fellow ponies… to give them the necessities and common comforts that are everypony's divinely-granted right."

Trixie tapped her quill against her teeth. "Necessities," she repeated thoughtfully. "Common comforts. And what might those be?"

"A steady source of food and drink," Fluttershy supplied. "A real bed in which to sleep at night. Shelter and warmth against the chill of this otherwise joyful season."

"A donation of a mere five bits will put a roof over a pony's head and food on their table," said Rarity, producing a quill and parchment. "So how many shall you aid, my dear Miss Trixie? What shall I put you down for?"

Trixie leaned back in her chair. "Nothing," she said. "Not a damn thing, Miss Rarity. There is no need. The poor always eventually end up where they belong—prisons and workhouses. They'll find plenty of food and shelter there. My tax bits pay for those institutions, so I see no need to shill out more of my blood, sweat, and tears to allow idle folk to gorge themselves on food and drink they didn't earn."

Rarity stepped back in surprise, and briefly leaned in to consult with Fluttershy. "This one may be a tough sell," she muttered.

"Should we do the musical number?" Fluttershy whispered back.

Trixie's eyes burned with fury, and Fluttershy cowered in sheer terror. "Okay, I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "I'm sorry… no musical number…"

"The truth of the matter, Miss Trixie," said Rarity, "is that there are too many poor folks for all of them to find solace in such places, and… and to be frank… many would rather die."

Trixie sneered. "Good. Let them die then."

Fluttershy gasped, covering her mouth with her wings.

"There are too many ponies in Canterlot these days, don't you think?" Trixie said sweetly. "I've often thought some thinning of the herds was in order. Now, are you going to continue shoving your business into my face, or shall I get back to mine?"

Rarity and Fluttershy glanced at each other sadly, and withdrew without a word, the bell on Trixie's door ringing as they opened and closed it.

Trixie noticed that the three diamond dogs' eyes were darting between the single coal burning in the stove and the sack of extra coals in the corner of the room.

"Don't you dare put another coal on that fire," she said sternly. "Don't—don't do it. No. Noooo."

The trio relented and returned to their work.

A few seconds later, Trixie lifted her head and glared at the door. There was a very distinct sound coming from outside, something she did not like. She stormed forward and tugged the door open, glaring at the five carolers who were standing on the street corner just outside her place of work.

The fire of friendship lives in our hearts
As long as it burns, we will not drift apart
Though quarrels arise, their numbers are few
Laughter and singing will see us through
Will see us—

Trixie's horn glowed with pale pink energy, and she flung her head toward the carolers, creating an explosion of fireworks in their midst. A tiny mushroom cloud sprang up, and when it cleared, the dumbfounded carolers were covered in ash. They slowly turned their heads toward Trixie and, mumbling softly to each other, slowly shambled away.

"Hoo?"

Trixie looked up, and saw a small brown owl sitting atop the peeling Gilda and Trixie sign above the door. It looked back down at her, and a single glance at her death-threatening glare was all it took for it to the owl to take to the skies in a panic.

"Hmph!" Trixie growled, closing the door and returning to her desk. "It's the same every year, Hearth's Warming Eve constantly assaulting the senses, there just isn't ever a single second of respite—oh what fresh hell is this?" she demanded as her door, for the third time that afternoon, was opened from the outside.

A tiny unicorn filly with blond hair and a coat of pale pastel purple hobbled into the counting-house. Her right hind leg was in a brace, and the front leg on the same side was withered and weak, curled up atop a crutch. Her big, pale yellow eyes looked up at Trixie with cheer and innocence.

"Can I help you?" Trixie sneered.

"I'm Dinky Doo," the filly squeaked. "I'm looking for my mother?"

"Dinky, sweetheart," said Twilight, rushing out of her small workspace and bending down to embrace the small filly. "What are you doing here? I told you I'd be working late tonight."

"But it's the day before Hearth's Warming Eve," Dinky pleaded. "We need you home, Momma. Won't Miss Trixie let you come home early?"

Twilight bit her lip and cautiously turned toward Trixie, who set down her quill and sighed. "So, just so we're clear," she grumbled, "you want to leave early tonight… and get the whole day off tomorrow?"

"If… if that's all right," Twilight said nervously.

"I hardly think that's fair," Trixie snipped. "If I didn't give you Hearth's Warming Eve off, you'd say you were being put out. But having to pay you a full week's wages when you earned only a portion of them, doesn't anypony consider that that puts me out?"

Dinky coughed harshly, and Twilight glanced at her in concern. "It's just once a year, Miss Trixie," Twilight implored.

"Oh, I only get robbed once a year, that's some comfort," Trixie retorted. "But fine… go. You'd better be here as early as all hell the morning after Hearth's Warming Eve."

"I will, Miss Trixie," Twilight promised. "Thank you so much, Miss Trixie!"

She lifted Dinky onto her back, wrapping a blanket around the little filly's shoulders, and rushed out the door, happily galloping off into the snow as Dinky laughed giddily.

"Feh," Trixie said in disgust, turning to the three diamond dogs. "Well, I've had enough of this nonsense. I'll be leaving early as well. I'm putting it to you three to lock up when your work is finished; if there's a single paper out of place when I return tomorrow, it will be on your heads."

They nodded fearfully as Trixie fetched her jacket and silk hat and stiffly marched out into the street.

Author's Note

The idea for this story came to me on the day after Christmas 2013. Knowing it was too late to publish a Christmas story that year, I spent a year planning it before posting it on fanfiction.net. As I say in the description, it was my intent that after yet another year, I'd bring it over here to FIMfiction.

To address some confusion that arose the first time this story was published: Twilight is a lowly clerk and Cadance is Trixie's niece because they're perfect for the roles of Cratchit and Fred, respectively. I paid no mind to canonical social standing, family ties, or generation gaps in deciding which MLP characters should play which Christmas Carol characters; I went entirely by personality. So, please... don't ask. Because if you spend even a moment thinking about how this story fits in with actual MLP canon (which I never thought anyone would, but... people did), you'll just cause yourself undue stress, because it doesn't. It has much more in common with the original Dickens tale. I invite you to immerse yourself in it. (in this, I mean. not the Dickens tale. although, by all means, immerse yourself in that too, it's probably the best story ever written.)

Fun trivia fact: I imagine the five carolers to be Lyra, Bon Bon, Mayor Mare, Filthy Rich, and Donut Joe. Nearly every character from seasons 1-4 is in the story somewhere, even if they're not described in the text. I hope to someday bring this story to a visual medium where all the characters (and their cool Victorian clothes!) can be exhibited... but, pfft, like that's ever gonna happen.