Chapters THE HERO’S CURSE A tale of Hearthwarming
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He woke up. Not too unusual, for most ponies. A disappointment in his case. He looked out through a plating of dust on the tiny window. The dust of ages, not weeks or months. He idly wondered what the disaster was this time.
Glancing back, he grinned humorlessly. The coffin was a rotted ruin. It was so far gone that he had failed to even notice it when he got up.
The ancient chain armor of the Hero of Cragenmare hung on its stand, untouched by the ages. Next to it, the Knight’s Bardings hung on their form, the embroidery still as bright as the day, untold ages past, that it was made. Like his tomb and himself, these things were protected by a spell cast so long ago that the unforgiving gray mare who cast it was not even dust.
At least the spell let his sleep be dreamless. It was a relief and a part of the curse. Relief because it was free of nightmares. Part of the curse because if he dreamed, Princess Luna might find him and free him.
With the experience of practice, ages of practice, he donned his padded jerkin, slid into the armor, added the chanfron helmet, girded on the mighty blade of Cragenmare’s Hero and, last, the bright bardings that proclaimed a Knight of the Realm of Equestria.
The crypt door yawned wide. Drastin, Cursed Hero of Cragenmare strode forth. There was snow everywhere. Some was falling lightly from broken clouds with darkness and stars showing between. Some of the clouds glowed, showing Luna’s place in the sky.
Drastin, snow sifting onto his face from branches overhead, looked up with pity. Celestia and Luna would have to endure all of the ages to come. Perhaps, some day, the terms of his curse would be fulfilled and he would be free to pass on, at last. Not so for them. Their work of adjusting the heavens would last as long as the world itself.
In the meager light cast by the cloud shrouded moon, he looked up the mountain. The Castle of Cragenmare was fallen into ruin. That was not the disaster that called him forth. Curious, that. So, mighty Cragenmare had fallen to time and neglect, not to war. That, in itself, was heartening.
His hooves leaving the long dragged prints of one walking in snow, Drastin worked his way through the snow dusted brush seeking a path. He finally found one. Easier going led him down through the canyon to the plain. There, spread out before him, he saw a village. They had decorations out. There were lamps at every door. Ponies were passing happily back and forth, both door to door and trooping in to a large hall.
That told Drastin the time of year, at least. Hearthwarming. The very eve of it, so it would seem. Looking about, he saw no clear sign of disaster.
That meant that the disaster was either a subtle one or it was yet to come. He preferred the simple and obvious disasters. They could be dealt with expeditiously and that would let him return to his enchanted rest until next his services were needed.
No matter. Soon he would find this disaster and deal with it. Perhaps one day, he would find what was needed to end his curse and in dealing with that disaster, find his final rest.
His warrior’s hooves making little sound in the snow he entered the small town. He was passing an alley when he heard it. A quiet call of, “Happy Hearthwarming, Sir. Have you any coin to spare? We are cold and hungry.”
Drastin stopped in his tracks. He turned into the alley. There was a spindly colt with a bowl. It had pitifully few copper bits in it. Drastin stepped back further into the alley. There were others there too. There had been four. Though still huddled with the other two, one filly was gone.
Drastin’s heart broke and filled with rage at the same moment.
He was just turning back to the colt with the bowl when he saw a plump, well fed pony toss a copper to the colt. The colt, weeping at the loss of the filly, said, “We thank you, Sir. A merry Hearthwarming to you!”
Drastin charged out and blocked his way with a full war check, nearly taking the pony from his hooves. He glared at the plump passer by and demanded, “HOW DARE YOU, SIRRAH?”
“On this night of all nights, how dare you pass by and think a copper frees your heart from their want!? Come here and see what life your copper gives!” His experienced blocks forced the pony into the alley. He pointed, accusing the passer by.
“See her! How much copper will return her, sirrah? You are on your way to warmth and feast! They, copper or not, shall not see Celestia’s dawn. Is this generosity? Goodness? Where is the joy of Hearthwarming for these?”
“Lead us, Sirrah, to that feast. That warmth. The safety of their lives.” Drastin paused in the alley’s cold walls and chill stone, to gather up the filly who was past mortal help.
They made a small procession to the town hall. A bored pony at the door said, “Tickets, please.”
The plump pony gave over his ticket and went in. Drastin laid the still form of the filly at the ticket taker’s feet and declared, “This is ticket enough. If you need more …” His sword flashed out with that quiet whisper of steel that can be heard across a room.
All eyes turned to the tableau at the door.
Showing rare courage, the mayor, a lavender mare, came to face the sword wielding apparition at the door to her Hearthwarming celebration. She took in his antique garb, armor and the heraldry of his barding at a glance.
“IF YOU ARE DRASTIN, where, Sir, is the disaster that you have come to ward us from?”
Drastin pointed to the warm room full of feasters. Then down to the unmoving form at his feet. “Here, Madam, is the disaster. You have forgotten all of Hearthwarming but the decorations and the food. Where is the generosity? Where are the open hearts? The free sharing?
“For these three, you have the time to save them. Not so for their sister, here at your feet. While proclaiming goodness and generosity, you have allowed her to die for want and freezing. It is your hearts that died with her.”
The mayor looked sadly down at the still form that had been a filly this evening and shook her head. “Bring them in, Sir Drastin and take places at the head table.”
Sir Drastin seated the foals, who looked at him with adoration. When he turned to leave, the mayor blocked his way. “No, Sir Drastin. Do not leave. This disaster is only averted for now. You must stay to help us remember this lesson after the holiday is over. We need you.”
Sir Drastin did stay. His crypt on the mountainside is empty to this day.
DEER FRIEND, a Hearthwarming Tale
DEER FRIEND, a Hearthwarming Tale
DEER FRIEND a Hearthwarming Tale
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I had every candle lantern lit in the whole store. Instead of a sign saying “OPEN” I had one out that said “WELCOME!” In spite of that, there were no customers. Very few are out and about on Hearthwarming.
The door’s spring bells jangled. Along with a few snowflakes and a cold draft, a mare with two foals came in. I shut the door behind them and flipped the sign to closed.
I told them, “Go on into the back, that is where I live. It is warmer there.” As they trooped into the back, I put out all of the candle lanterns and finished closing the SWEET SPOT.
The mare and her foals were stopped at the door to my quarters. She turned to me and said softly, “I am sorry. We did not mean to interrupt your Hearthwarming.”
I had to grin. “This little gray unicorn lives alone. You are my Hearthwarming. Go on in. I have snacks laid out and the clover roast is almost ready to come out of the oven.
“Warm yourselves by the fireplace and have a hot spiced cider to warm the inner pony.”
That, at least, required no further urging. The pale magenta mare admired the painting above the mantle piece. It was a copy of Van Gone’s famous Sunflowers by Moonlight.
I pointed to the tree in the corner. “I am afraid that I have only one foal present there. Who should get it?”
I was pleased when the colt nudged his sister and replied, “Let Sis have it. She hasn’t got much. None of us do, really. Not since Dad died.”
I nodded approvingly and hoofed over the single present. The filly was almost trembling with gratitude. “Thank you, Mister unicorn. We don’t even know your name.”
I put a hoof over my eyes as I replied, “I will never live down my name. I am Roe, just like a Roe Deer. You are welcome to the present.”
I trotted out to the darkened Sweet Spot and filled three Hearthwarming stockings with candies and treats. I brought them in and gave one to the colt. “What is your name?”
“Thank you, Mister Roe. I am Morty.”
The filly took hers and offered, “Thank you, Mister Roe, I am Sis. Sisterca, actually.”
The mare smiled as she took hers. “I am Molly, Mister Roe, and thank you.” She had tears in her eyes. “We had no Hearthwarming at all. We were trying to beg enough coin to buy a few day’s worth of fire wood for our home. We really do have nothing to offer you.”
I smiled back. “Nonsense! Thanks to you, I have guests for Hearthwarming. That is plenty of gift in return.”
I noticed that while I was talking to Molly, Sisterca opened her present. It was a set of building blocks. She quietly cleared a space on the floor and shared the toy set with her brother, Morty. I had to approve of that.
I brought out the big clover roast, dripping with honeyed peaches and cinnamon. Oddly, I did not even need to suggest that they come to the table!
While we were eating, I leaned over to Molly conspiratorially and asked, “Would you mind if I play a small prank on them?”
She gave me a slightly disturbed look and asked, “What sort of prank?”
I aimed my horn at the Van Gone painting copy. “I will make it look like a mirror but it will show me as a deer. I want to see how they react.”
She nodded. “I don’t think that either of them really believes in deer, any more. Go ahead.”
My horn showed a bit of brown magic, that matched my eyes. The Van Gone was gone. A mirror appeared in its place. We did not say anything.
It was Sis who noticed it first. She pointed, with giggles, as she drank from her mug of cider. “Look, Mort! Mister Roe is a deer!”
Mort looked from the mirror to me and back. “No he’s not. He is playing a joke on us. I have heard of unicorns that can do that.”
I smiled happily at their reactions and offered, “What if I really was a deer? What wishes would you make of me?”
Sisterca did not hesitate. “Our winter cloaks are about worn out. I would want us to have better ones.”
Morty, to his credit, thought carefully. “I would want us to have enough of food and wood to warm us so that we will be well taken care of for this whole winter.”
I held out my hooves to them. “Take my hooves. Oh, DEER, you have caught me! I must give you your wishes!”
We all giggled. The mirror turned back to the Van Gone that it really was all along.
I turned to Molly and said, “You have raised wonderful foals. As It happens, if you do not mind doing some work for it, I can grant those wishes.”
Molly shook her head. “How could we thank you?”
“Don’t think it is some deer granting wishes with a poof!
“First, get dressed in your cloaks, all of you, and follow me!”
We all trooped out my back door and around to the street. We went up and over several times, reaching the “snob hill” area where Filthy Rich and his family lived.
Morty said, “What are we doing here? They never give anything to beggars!”
I snickered. “True! However, when Filthy was in my shop, buying treats for Hearthwarming, he let something slip! They are giving Diamond Tiara and her cousin Greedie, PRACTICAL GIFTS, this year!
“Just wait!”
In only a few moments we heard the outraged voices of a filly and a colt! You could not really make out what they were yelling, but the tantrum was loud! Suddenly, the door of the Rich mansion opened and bundles were cast out into the snow! The door slammed behind them!
“Now! Morty and Sis, it is our turn!”
They rushed forward and took the thrown away things. We ran back to the Sweet Spot’s back door and went in, stamping snow from our hooves and shaking it from our cloaks.
We warmed ourselves at the fire and had more hot cider. Sis was shaking out the bundles and staring in disbelief. There were two fine fluffy lined winter cloaks and a big warm blanket.
I commented, “Simply amazing what shopkeepers overhear, if they keep their ears open! Molly, that blanket will make your cloak, with only a little sewing.
“WISH ONE, granted by little old Roe!”
They all chuckled, though Molly was looking at me a bit askance.
I pulled out a sewing kit. “Being alone, I do a lot for myself. Here you go, Molly!” She sat and my living quarters filled with the cheerful sounds of foals playing blocks together and the snippy-snip of scissors as Molly changed that warm blanket into a warm winter cloak.
Getting up from his play with his sister, Morty helped himself from the table snacks and another slice of clover roast. He asked me, mouth somewhat full, “Not to cast doubt on you, Mister Roe, but how are you going to grant us wish number two?”
I answered with false primness, “A MAGICAL DEER never gives away his secrets! So, I will show you all in the morning. Tonight, we will go to the town hall Hearthwarming pageant in your new finery and you will spend the night here where it is warm.
“Tomorrow, I will show you the answer to your question.”
The pageant was both fun, traditional, and in a warm place. We all had a great time.
I had a family quietly snoring in my home for the first time in my life.
In the morning, I led them out the back way, again. “First, load up that sledge with good firewood off my stack. Take along those saws. Yes, that Big one, on the wall, too. You will need that hatchet to make good kindling.”
We dragged the loaded sledge to Molly’s house and stacked the wood for them. “Now, put the tools on the sledge and we can go to fulfill the rest of your wish, Morty.”
As we hauled the sledge, I pointed out, “Remember that shopkeepers overhear a lot?”
Little Sis, in her warm cloak grinned as she replied, “I sure do! What else did you overhear, Mister Roe?”
I lifted some small branches out of the way while I replied, “Some woodcutters are a superstitious lot. If a tree that they fall hurts or kills a pony when it goes down, they abandon it because they think that bad luck will come of the wood.”
We came to a clearing in the woods. The tree that was down was simply huge. There were old tracks largely covered by new snow all about it. My tracks from cutting my winter’s wood.
I explained, “My winter’s wood barely used a few branches of this one. There is plenty here for keeping you warm all winter. Selling wood from it will keep you cared for and fed for the whole winter and longer besides.
“I do expect that when you can, you will return my tools and sledge.”
I left them cheerfully sawing away at the monster tree’s branches. There were two reasons, why I left.
One, of course, is that I have a shop to run.
The other was equally simple. The forest asserts itself on those who come from it. My disguise spell was slipping a bit. Not my face or body, just my tracks. Small oval split hoofed tracks. The tracks of a roe deer.
Huddled Together, A Hearthwarming Tale
Huddled Together, A Hearthwarming Tale
Huddled Together A Hearthwarming Tale
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They sat huddled together. There were three fully standing walls and a roof, though that drooped precariously. The forth wall stood, except for the rubble where the door had been. They even had a fire to keep the chill at bay, though snow did blow in through the hole that was once a door.
She told him, “Think how lucky we are, my dear Sir. In the morning, we can look for something to cover the doorway. Maybe even a pole to better support the roof. Few around here are as well off as we.”
Dejected, he focused on the small fire and sighed, “I tried. I tried so hard. At least I saved you.”
“Yes, my dear, you did. No other pony tried to save me or our family. If the rest of my family is gone, at least you saved me. Perhaps tomorrow we can bury my dead.”
He nodded sadly. “That would be best. Much as we need shelter, they need to be buried or cremated soon. It is dangerous to leave the dead untended. I know this from experience.”
“Experience?” she inquired, head tilted with curiosity.
He nodded seriously. “It is a myth that the undead, like vampires, are destroyed by sunlight. It is very hard on them and weakens them but it no more kills them than it kills you.
“It is also a myth that they are some sort of ravening monsters. Some are, enough to create the tale. Those are mad.”
Softly, she asked directly, “Are you one of them?”
Eyes filled with a fear that she had not seen all day, as he fought like a tiger to save what he could from the ravages of the foraging army, he replied simply, “I am.”
She leaned against him to reassure him as she said, “I have seen naught but good of you, Sir. It is no fear at all that I have from you. Why did you fight to save us?”
“I was awakened from my day’s sleep by the din of the foragers destroying what they could not take. When I saw what was happening, it needed no thought to know that it was wrong.” He let out a sigh. “I wish that it had been night. Then I could have done more. I am so sorry.”
“Besides myself, Sir, how many of our village live?
“None, I fear. There may be one or two that fled.”
“So, besides me, you have naught to eat either. Is that correct, Sir?”
“It is. I am dreadfully hungry but I did not save you to make a walking larder of you. You live, and only one such as I can tell you how great a gift that is.”
She gazed about the ruin of a hovel, the shattered hole in the wall where a door had been. The tumbled lumps of dried mud bricks scattered carelessly about where they fell when the now ruined door had fallen, broken. The sagging rafter poles supporting the mostly intact thatch.
She spoke firmly. “Your life is as much a gift as mine, Sir. I too, am dreadfully hungry. Do you know if the foragers left anything behind?”
He nodded. “A goodly bit, actually. I did stop them from burning two barns and many of the homes that they looted. Because I was harassing them, they were in haste. Many pantries have some food for your kind left.”
“Good Sir, my dear savior, my leg will bear me, though I fear that I shall limp the rest of my days. Help me, please, to gather some of the food that was left now. I do have a reason to venture out, even though it be dark.”
For answer, he simply helped her to get to her feet. He led her past the snow covered, slashed and stabbed bodies of her fallen friends and companions to the ruins of different wrecked or partly burned homes.
He was right. It only took searching two of the destroyed village’s houses to gain enough. “Good Sir, we should repair now to the safety of the fire. This snow has me all of a shiver.”
He had saved three heavy blankets along with her food. He hung two to shield the doorway.
She set about both warming herself by the fire and cooking some of the food. “Can you eat of this food at all, my good Sir? I would share it if you can.”
He sat near her and shook his head sadly, “That I cannot do, dear mare. I wish that I could.”
She set about serving herself the food and bit her lip as she steeled herself to speak. “My name, good Sir, is Ellesen. I do wish that you would call me by it. I do not know yours, either.”
He took a deep breath and let it out as a plume of steam in the chill of the place. “I am Rodeger. Sir Rodeger. I swear that I shall not harm you, Ellesen.”
As she finished up the meal, Ellesen replied, “I admit that I know little of your kind, Sir Rodeger. I am sure that most of it is myth. Please tell me plainly one thing. When you feed, must you kill or enslave the one from whom you drink?”
Sir Rodeger chuckled sadly, “No. Not at all. There is, however, one thing that cannot be undone. If I were to drink of you, you will become one such as I, after you die. I would not wish that upon you at all.”
To Sir Rodeger’s amazement, Ellesen embraced him. “There is far worse in this world than to be such a one as you, Sir Rodeger.
“Do you know what night this is?”
“I confess, Ellesen, that I do not. I lost count of the days and years long ago.”
“The attack on our village happened on Hearthwarming. You fought to save us. Even though I may be the only one left of my kin, I have a thing to be thankful for, Sir Rodeger.
“Not my life, though that is precious. I have YOU to be thankful for on this night of nights. You fought an enemy army to save me and are now fighting a harder battle yet. Your own hunger.”
He gave her an astounded look. “Ellesen, do you mean what I fear that you mean?”
She nodded calmly and held him closer. “I do. You gave me this life. I offer you this trust that you will not harm me. Take what you need of me. Have a share back of what you have given. None that live should hunger on this night.”
He shuddered softly in her grip. “None has ever made this offer before. I promise to be careful of this gift.” He lowered his lips to her neck.
She held herself still for his bite, though she shivered with the effort. She need not have worried. His bite was as gentle as a kiss, though it lasted longer than most.
When he was done, Ellesen smiled and hugged him close. “As the sun is no danger to you, Sir Rodeger, would you stay by my side? I would not be parted from one so good as you.”
Carefully draping the last blanket about them both, Sir Rodeger said, “I would be honored, Ellesen.”
They huddled together before the small fire and awaited the dawn.
The Gift, A Hearthwarming Tale
The Gift, A Hearthwarming Tale
The Gift A Hearthwarming Tale
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“I want to have it!” snapped the yellow filly!
“No! I get it!” retorted her orange twin sister!
The opened package was reduced to a rubble of torn wrapping paper and scattered ribbon! The orange filly was clutching a warm winter cloak of red cloth with soft fuzzy lining and a hood.
In exasperation, their mother, Hareit, a blue mare, said, “My fillies! I expected better of you! This is Hearthwarming! A time of sharing and kindness. The package was for Kay! It is hers!”
The orange filly nodded triumphantly and then surprised her mother entirely. Looking troubled and ashamed, Kay carefully folded the cloak. “Mol, I know why you wanted my cloak. Mom just said why Hearthwarming is important. We both have good cloaks.
“What you wanted is right. Will you let me share the giving?”
Hareit, brow furrowed with concentration, asked, “What do you mean, Kay? What does Mol want with your new cloak?”
Kay pointed to a frost covered window and replied softly, “She wants my cloak to give to her.”
“Who, Kay?”
It was Mol who answered, “That filly out there. She is begging on Hearthwarming and all that she has is a bit of rag around her head. It is not enough.”
Their mother nodded, suddenly proud of her fillies. “You are right. That is not enough. We have plenty of food for our feast. There is a warm fire in our hearth.
“Go together, my dears, and give her the cloak. Invite her in to our Hearthwarming. If she is begging to feed others, bring them in too.”
The two fillies donned their older cloaks and dashed out, leaving the door ajar in their haste to do a good deed.
Soon they reentered, leading the beggar, now dressed well in the bright new cloak. In spite of the cloak, the pink filly was shivering, chilled to the bone.
Kay and Mol sat her by the fire and brought her a warm spiced cider and some sweet alfalfa cookies. As she drank and nibbled, she said softly, “What do you want from me for this kindness?”
Mol stopped in surprise. “Nothing but that you be warm and well fed. You must spend the night here, in the warmth of our home and share our feast. It is nearly ready.”
Kay added, “We have plenty and you only want. You do have a gift for us. Do you know what it is?”
The waif shook her head. “No, I do not understand.”
Kay smiled and hugged the beggar foal. “It is yourself. We have been wanting a sister and here you are.”
The beggar filly lifted a troubled stare to the fillies. “Are you sure? What if I was a deer in disguise, seeking out some pony to grant a wish to?”
The fillies giggled and it was Kay who replied, “We are not silly enough to believe in deer! Oh, my! Still, it is a sister that we want! If you are one, can we still have our new sister?”
Hareit was watching the by play indulgently. “Dinner time, youngsters! That means you too, red cloak! You forgot to tell us your name!”
The pink filly, now warm, nodded. “I did, didn’t I? Call me Red.”
They all sat to the table and had a merry time indeed. Red relaxed. She, Mol and Kay played together as if they had indeed grown up together.
When it was finally time to sleep, the twins tucked Red into blankets in front of the warm fireplace.
In the morning, Red was gone. The cloak was neatly folded on top of the folded blankets. Her begging bowl sat on top of the cloak. It was overflowing with golden bits.
There was a note weighted down by the bowl.
“For your unselfishness and kind treatment, I have granted your wish. Go to the town square and give this cloak to the first filly that you see begging there. She will be your new sister.
“As for not believing in deer, you had one among you, in disguise, last night.
“RED DEER wishes you well and thanks you for your goodness.”
ROE’S WISH
It was a dark and stormy night. Cliche, I know, but it was.
Doubtless Luna was doing her duty somewhere above the clouds that blocked all knowledge of her from mortal eyes. The clouds were pouring buckets of damp snow into the wind that raced under them and, like as not, pushed them around too!
It was not a night fit for pony or beast. Those latter were all wisely denned up, staying as warm as they could. The ponies out shopping for last minute Hearthwarming presents and treats were mostly not that smart. Those passing the Sweet Spot window had cloaks pulled tight and were a shivering and tooth chattering lot anyway that you looked at it.
I was thinking of closing up when the spring bells of the door jangled their welcome to visitors. They also put me on notice that there was somepony in the shop.
I spite of the weather, the three before me were practically gamboling. They shook the wet snow from cloaks and stomped it from hooves. I recognized those faces! The magenta mare was Molly and her two foals were Morty and Sis (who did not really like her full name of Sisterca).
Molly raised her nose and sniffed. “Happy Hearthwarming, Roe! I do not smell anything cooking! What are you doing for Hearthwarming?”
I truthfully answered, “I was not planning anything this year. A nice fire in the fireplace and curl up under a pile of warm blankets. That is about it.”
Sis stepped around my counter and pulled me by my hoof as she declared, “That is not enough! Not on Hearthwarming! Last year, you took us in when we had nothing and gave us these nice cloaks, a happy, warm place, took us to the pageant and gave us our wood cutting business! We are now doing really well and it is all thanks to you!
“Even if you aren’t a magical deer in disguise, you granted us more than just a happy Hearthwarming. Your help then gave us a good life all this year! We want to say thank you!”
Morty nodded and added, “Besides, we have a tree and there is only one present under it. It has your name on the tag. If you don’t come, we will never know what is in it! We could die of curiosity!!”
Molly hit me with the coup de grace. “I have been cooking my hooves off all day for this, Roe. We do have a really nice feast all prepared. Please come.”
I glanced at my clock on the wall. It was no contest, really. The reason that I had not been planning any sort of Hearthwarming celebration was right here. Having the three of them with me over Hearthwarming was wonderful experience. I did not expect to have it again. That sort of took the fun out of my solitary Hearthwarmings.
Now, here they were. And they actually wanted this old gray unicorn to share Heartwarming with THEM.
I smiled and nodded. “That does sound better than doing a fried hay twist and going to sleep! You have a guest for Hearthwarming!”
I carefully closed up the Sweet Spot and my living quarters in the back. Donning my own winter cloak, I joined them. The spring bells on the door jangled cheerfully as we went out. I locked up and we trotted down the way.
After several turnings and passing a few others out in the miserable weather, we came to their place.
Out in front was a neat wood-lot with ricks of larger wood and tidy bundles of neatly split kindling. They had a gate and fence around the wood for sale.
We all bypassed the wood-lot and went into their tidy house. Molly made a production of lighting their candle lanterns. First illuminating the side board, filled with lovely snacks in warmer trays. Then she bracketed the tree with lanterns to show the single present under it.
Lighting the rest, she announced, “We have snacks laid out and the clover roast is almost ready to come out of the oven.
“Warm yourself by the fireplace and have a hot spiced cider to warm the inner pony.”
Remembering how I had invited them into my living space with almost exactly those same words, I nearly wept. I also took the hot spiced cider. It warmed my inner self while being close to the fire warmed my outer self.
Molly brought out the clover roast, dripping with baked on honeyed peaches and apricots. Like last year at my place, strangely, no invitation was needed! We all took places and fell to! It was a great feast!
Molly cast her eyes to the small package under the tree. Carefully, she said, “Whether you are a magical deer or a clever shopkeeper, or both, you gave us something very special, last Hearthwarming.
“You gave us all a fair start. What we have now, we built from that start by honest work. It was Mort who thought to return to you more and better tools than the ones that you loaned us to get started. We got better tools for ourselves too. We kept your original tools to remember a fine pony by.”
Sisterca spoke gently but firmly, “You gave us more than a start. That Hearthwarming with you was the first time that we felt like we had a whole family since dad was killed. A cargo wagon’s worn out wheel broke and the wagon rolled over on him.
“We felt like a family again, safe and happy in your home.”
Mort nodded solemnly as he offered, “What we wish to know is what you feel. What you wish for.”
I heard the small indrawn breath from them as Mort used the word wish.
It put me into a sort of corner, there. I mean, their wish was to find out what I WISHED for.
I bit my lip and my eyes teared up. I mean, I did know what I wished. The question was, how would they feel once they knew the truth? I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Molly, Sis, Mort. Before I answer that, I have to show you something. I do not know how it will change your feelings towards me.”
Molly just looked about the snug house with its nice things that my granting their wishes had lead to. Softly, she suggested, “Then show us, Roe. I doubt that it will change any bit of how we feel about you.”
Nodding, heart filled with fear of rejection or worse, being taken for what I could do, I let my magical disguise slip away. My gray fur turned to a brown, tinged with gray. My ears became longer and funneled more. My horn became two antlers. My mane and tail vanished. My tail became short and white on the underside. My legs became long and narrow, with split hooves. My nose became black, with gray around it. Only my eyes stayed the same.
Sisterca triumphantly pointed to me! “I told you that Roe was really a deer!”
Molly nodded acceptance and offered, “Our wish has a condition, Roe. You must not grant us any more wishes. If we say I wish, it is to only be conversation, not something that you must do for us. You already gave us all that we need except for one thing. The answer to our wish. What do YOU wish for?”
Utterly relieved, I looked about at them. “What I wish for appears to be the same thing that you wish for. A family.
“Last Hearthwarming, I had one in my home for the first time in my life. The empty place that was left when they were gone was why I was not doing anything for Hearthwarming, this year.”
Molly wrapped me into a big hug! Sisterca and Mort joined in!
Giggling, Sis suggested, “Switch back, Roe, and open your present!”
My disguise as a small gray unicorn slid smoothly back into place.
I stepped to the tree and picked up the small package. I carefully undid all the ribbons and paper. Inside them was a small but ornate box.
Sisterca noted, “You act like you never got a present before, Roe.”
I looked her in the eye as I replied, “That is right, Sis. I never have. This is the first present that I ever got.”
I opened the box. Inside, nestled in velvet, were a pair of pony wedding bracelets for the left foreleg. I sat and cried the happiest tears of my life.
~THE END~
THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING
Author's Note
My Rom were and are a loving tribute to some of the finest folk that I ever had the pleasure of meeting. To fit them to a world of talking creatures of many sorts and having no cognate for Northern India, where the ancestors of the Romani came from, I had to make many adaptations. I hope that those who read this and my other tales of the Rom will take that into account and simply read the tales for their entertainment value.
THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING
It was late afternoon under low clouds. The breeze from the Great South bay was chill and carrying a light dusting of snow with it. It was not cool enough yet for the snow to stick much. Just patches of thin dusty snow across the road, here and there. The port town of Milestago was too far ahead for us to reach today.
Nore’s and my first foal, the filly Naleen Bel Nore, was pulling in the lead of our hitch. She was leading the whole band of us in our Pulling cadence song, too. Much as I do love the Shehan Ja Rom, it contains one tiny inaccuracy.
In telling of how I saved the Original Seven of the Rom, it claims that I died in the deed. Seems pretty obvious to me that I didn’t die! I mean, here I am Pulling in the harness alongside the lovely chestnut sorrel horse who is my wife, Nore.
As the song got to the part where the I died and the band had to go on, finding the spring of Sha Ja Shehan, whose water and abundant browse saved them all, I grumbled, “It was a NAP, just a nap! I came right along as soon as I woke up!”
It was equally obvious that my lovely horse was waiting for my little snort! With a grin, she pointed with an ear at the snow patch under hoof at the moment. Naleen was leaving tracks. Nore was leaving tracks. The soft crunch of the wheels in the hard packed gravel of the road announced that they were leaving tracks. I wasn’t! Again! Oops!
Smiling fondly, she avoided directly saying, that I was dead. A ghost of some sort. She pointed out, “Thanks to your nap, none of the rest of us died and we are now all free horses.”
Just then, Naleen, in the lead, steered us into one of the excellent Royal Road waysides. Saved me from some embarrassing repartee. She is a good filly, growing really well, too.
Unlike any other member of the band, even though a lovely sorrel like her mother, and very clearly going to be a big horse, like her mother had grown to be, she has a horn. Not a short unicorn pony horn, colored like the fur of the pony; hers is long, straight and sort of an aged ivory color. Her magic through the horn is a light green, similar to her eyes. And strong. Really strong.
We were setting up our camp, with our caravans in a sort of a ring. Maina, Malit and their adopted filly, Shehan who was an abandoned waif pony from Haulmarket, before they took her in, camped to our right. To our left, was Sando and his mate Phapa Al Oosa along with their colt Thom. Across the mortared stone fire ring of the wayside from us, camped Rom and Sarel. Their first foal was on the way, but not born yet.
Sando finished securing his awning out over the camp and securing his fabric booth sides to partly cover our camp and Rom’s. By copying him, we had a sort of weather cover and wind break around the whole camp.
Sando announced to all of us, “Today is Midwinter Day! The shortest day of the year and the longest night! Do the ponies of Equestria have any sort of holiday or celebration for today?
“In Gyptia the Masters had a celebration but we, as slaves, only served them. We did not get to celebrate it.”
They all looked at old dead donkey me, waiting for an answer. I replied, “They do have a celebration called Hearthwarming. It is done with a pageant about how the land was found and settled. Nobody, except perhaps the Exile, the old unicorn who teaches you your Equestrian, numbers, and history, knows where they came from.
“They do know that the three kinds, Earth ponies, Unicorns and Pegassi had a society that exploited the Earth ponies for the food that they raised. Something caused a famine and they had to migrate to a safer place.
“They found the ‘rich and empty’ land that is now Equestria. After they settled here, the old tensions came up again. The Three Kinds did not trust each other. The crop failures and distrust were blamed on ‘windegos,’ whatever they may have been.
“A group of foals, two of each kind were trapped by a storm or 'windegos’ and found out that they could get along in harmony. That broke the grip of evil on the land and the Three Kinds now live and work together in Harmony.”
Naleen nodded and observed sagely, “They didn’t learn that lesson too well, really, did they? I mean, donkeys, goats and us horses sort of got left out of the whole getting along in harmony thing, didn’t we?”
Shehan, who was a pony before she got adopted by us horses, added, “While that is true, Naleen, there is another part to the celebration. I got to see it from the outside several times. After the pageant, they celebrate Harmony by giving each other presents.
“We could do that to celebrate our own harmony. I mean we could give each other gifts. After all, the Shehan Ja Rom tells a similar story and WE all get along. Some of the ponies that we have met on the road are good sorts too. You know, like Carter, that long haul freight pony whose caravan we fixed when he was broken down, there outside of Trottingham.”
I brightened up. “That is a good notion, Shehan! We can do the Shehan Ja Rom and give each other gifts! We have plenty of good provisions to make us up a nice feast, too!”
We all got busy making up our favorite treats with Ka'chek flour and dried or preserved fruits. Shehan got a big batch of bread together and was kneading it expertly. It was shaping up to be a fine feast!
We all heard the creak and soft crunch of wheels on the road outside. The pony pulling the wagon was limping. That was all too easy to hear. So were his whimpers of pain.
Naleen left off rolling out her dough and went out to the road like a shot! We heard her exclamation of surprise! “Carter! I never expected to see you this far south!
“Why are you whimpering like that?”
We heard his answer and his pain. “I got a cargo for Milestago. I slipped on a snow patch back there a ways. I think that I broke somethin’. My right foreleg hurts something awful down close to the hoof.”
Naleen demanded, “Carter! You drop that hitch right now! Get over to our camp and have Nore and Marchhare look at your leg. I will get your caravan over into the lee of ours.”
We heard his good natured correction, “It is a wagon, Naleen, not a caravan.”
“You just go and see my mom, got it?”
While Carter was limping his way into our camp, we heard the sounds of Naleen hitching herself to his wagon and dragging it to the safety of the lee of our camp.
When she re entered the camp, she saw Carter laying on his left side on a cushion. Nore was laying a hoof gently on the lower part of his right leg. She looked up and asked Naleen, “What did you see that caused you to send Carter here to me so abruptly, Naleen?”
Naleen diffidently suggested, “It felt like a hairline fracture of the right canon bone, mother.”
Nore nodded briskly. “Exactly right, Naleen. Tell me what you deduce from that.”
“If Carter had tried to go any further, his right leg would probably break completely in less than a half kilometer, mother.”
“Right again, my filly. Now what should we do for him?”
“Fix the bone? I never watched you do that, mother.”
“Now you will see the way of it, my dear.”
Carter nervously interrupted, “Wait. What is this gonna cost me? How long am I gonna be laid up?”
I stuck my hoof into the conversation. “You should be able to pull by tomorrow, Carter. You have been a friend to us. We helped you with that wagon breakdown and you have bailed us out on crooked fairground and toll gate charges several times since.
“Besides, this is our first Hearthwarming celebration. Be a shame to blemish it by not trying to stretch the goodness of Harmony to a friend, wouldn’t it?”
“I see, Marchhare. How is she going to fix a broken bone that fast?”
I shrugged. “No Equestrian words for what she is going to do. You have heard about Nore’s Death Touch? This is the other side of it. She can heal too. She is teaching Naleen, so forgive the Gyptian between them as she works on you.
“We are going to use Gyptian for our music and dances but out of deference to you being here, we will use Equestrian for the feast and such.”
I left Nore showing Naleen how simple it really is to heal a broken bone. The rest of us all went back to putting together the feast.
With the last of it in the ovens or on the griddles to bake, we broke out the instruments and the song began. And the dancing. Never forget the dancing.
Carter looked like he had gone to Paradise, watching and listening. He did his best to lean his head back and trill for applause in our Rom fashion.
We did not have a lot to share around as gifts but the feast more than made up for it!
~THE END~
THE PAGEANT, a Hearthwarming Tale
THE PAGEANT, a Hearthwarming Tale
THE PAGEANT a Hearthwarming Tale
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
The log in the fireplace was burning merrily. Present wrappings lay scattered about. No matter how often the grown ponies suggested careful unwrapping and saving paper, bows and all for next Hearthwarming, the foals did exactly what the grown ponies had done when THEY were foals!
That was watched with tolerant good humor by the parents of the foals. They were all gathered together as an extended family. High Reacher and Cumulus, pegassi that had been friends for ages, had brought their two foals, Pud and Rain. Corrine and Zally, unicorns who were friends dating back to foalhood, had brought Light and Lifter, their two foals.
The hosts, the earth ponies, Morgan and Vanner, and their two foals, Placer and Leaf, had laid out a fine feast for their friends. Those had brought contributions too. The celebration was going just as a Hearthwarming celebration among friends should.
The well filled parents sat back with cider and watched a Hearthwarming miracle. The foal’s improvised Pageant was going off without a hitch! The whole story was unfolding exactly as it should, and not a single foal flubbed a line or stumbled on any prop.
It came down to the climax, with the discovery of the Elements of Harmony. The foals “Magically” produced their home made paper-maché Elements, all painted with ‘gems’ and 'gold.’ As they donned the Elements, there was a soft flash of light.
When everypony recovered their vision, they saw their foals wearing the real Elements of Harmony.