Coming in From the Cold

by Timaeus

Rating: everyone
Tags: Lyra, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Bon-Bon
Length: 12095

Starting over is never easy. Lost, alone, and cold, sometimes a friendly smile and mug of cocoa are all that's needed to warm the heart.

Starting over is never an easy thing to do. Lost, alone, and cold, sometimes a friendly smile and mug of cocoa are all that's needed to warm the heart.

And right now, Bon Bon is very cold.

Preread by Carabutt and Crystal Wishes.

Cover art by Rossby Waves.

Published 2018-01-11 21:00:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-01-11 21:00:07 UTC

Out of the Cold

The train whistle sounded, piercing the afternoon air and sharp against the lower rumbling of the engine chugging away. The gentle, rhythmic rising and falling of the train car slowed, stirring the lone mare in one of the train’s many compartments. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and yawned, stretching as thoughts coagulating from the treacle of her mind.

Metal screeched against metal, and the train came to a stop with a final, stomach-churning lurch. For a moment, everything was still. Then, as though the world jumped back to motion, the deep, basso voice of the conductor came from further down the car, “Ponyville! All departing for Ponyville, collect your bags! Next stop, Dodge Junction!”

Ponyville.

The mare’s ears perked. Slowly, she sat up, sinking her haunches further into the thin cushion padding her seat, and groped at her side, sighing when her hoof found the coarse fabric of her saddlebags. A glimmer of fear shone in her reflection’s eyes, nearly as bright and blue as the winter sky. She watched as a wrinkle furrowed her brow and as her ears fell back down against her two-toned pink-and-blue mane. It may have been the translucency of the reflection or the backdrop of white behind it, but her cream-coloured coat seemed a shade or two paler than usual.

Though, who could blame her, really? Outside of that window and beyond her reflection lay the little town of Ponyville. As soon as she stepped outside her compartment door, she would begin the first day of the rest of her life. She would begin the life of Bon Bon, candy maker and inevitably-permanent citizen of Ponyville. Ponyvillian? Is that what they called themselves? Either way, she would be one of them.

The conductor’s voice came again, this time much closer, and shook her from her thoughts. “This stop, Ponyville! All departing, please collect your bags! All remaining, next stop, Dodge Junction!”

A sigh fell from the m—Bon Bon’s lips as she pushed herself off of her bench and shivered at the draft of cool air that wafted in from outside. The muffled thud-thud of hooves on the hardwood floor sounded from outside her compartment door, and the low murmur of conversation followed. Not many were departing here, which is exactly what she had hoped. Most ponies only knew Ponyville as the town on the edge of the Everfree Forest. It promised a quiet life, where she could blend into the background.

It was exactly what she needed.

Sliding her saddlebags over her shoulders, Bon Bon wiggled them into place before balancing on her hind legs to grab her suitcase stored overhead. A flicker of movement caught her eye as she lowered herself back to the floor. Ears twitching, she followed it out the window, and to the snowscape beyond.

Snow swirled and danced across the train station platform. The few ponies in sight walked with their heads bowed, straining against the wind that mixed and mingled fresh snow from the sky with the fine powder collected on the roofs and trees. Flurries rose and fell, swirling in bouts of white that had already started to fog and frost over the edges of the window.

Swallowing, she nosed into her saddlebags and pulled out her scarf between her teeth. It was a simple thing, a worn and faded red, but it would keep some of the bite of the cold at bay. She wrapped it around her neck and, with one final breath, balanced her suitcase on her back, pulled open her compartment door, and walked out of her compartment.

The conductor greeted her with a smile as she approached. It had a way of wrinkling the coal-black mustache that stretched all the way to the base of his ears. “Welcome to Ponyville, Miss,” he said with a tip of his hat. “Hope you got more ‘n that scarf on you. It’s a mite nippy out there!”

Bon Bon offered a flickering smile in reply. “Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll just get to a hotel right away.”

The conductor shrugged as he turned to walk back down the train car. “If you’re sure, Miss. Have a good day.”

With a nod and murmur of thanks, Bon Bon walked off of the train and onto the platform. The door closed behind her and another whistle pierced the winter air over the gusting wind that howled in her ears. She certainly felt it through the floorboards, though, as the train pulled out of the station, slowly gaining speed until it left Ponyville and its newest resident far behind.

Snow bit through her coat and sent a chill up her spine by the time she left the station, and the wind whipped the end of her scarf over her shoulder. Rows of shingled roofs lined the streets and, with no plan, no idea where to go, and no place in which she could seek refuge, Bon Bon started to walk.

Hopefully wherever she ended up would be warm.

Snow fell around Bon Bon, swirling and whipped into flurried frenzies by the winter wind that howled over the rooftops and between the houses and shops that lined the street. She bowed her head, gritting her teeth as each gust bit through her scarf and caught snowflakes in her eyelashes, hazing her vision as she continued her march through town.

The hour that had passed since she left the train station passed by in a grueling slog. The cobblestone streets were cold to the touch, numbing her hooves as she trudged through the snow and weaved a winding trail in her wake. The tips of her ears burned from the frigid air and she had long since lost feeling in the tip of her snout. Her suitcase dug into her shoulders more and more with each step, and the feeling of cold air against her naked teeth turned her grimace into a teeth-chattering shiver. Another gust of wind whipped her scarf over her face, squeezing something between a whine and a sigh from her chest.

She was alone in the street as she paused her stride to tuck the tail end of her scarf around her neck. Steadying herself, another shiver shook her frame as she rubbed her forelegs together, a futile effort to return some semblance of warmth.

The wind blew again, and Bon Bon braced herself against it and the flurry that it carried. As it died down, she caught the faint clickety-clack of wood rattling on the edge of her hearing. Ears perked and eyes opened wide, she swivelled her head left and right until her gaze landed on a sight more welcome than the merriest of Hearth’s Warming trees: a cafe on the street corner.

Sanctuary at last.

Snow covered the cafe’s outdoor patio, sloped by the wind against the upturned chairs. Its sign swung and rattled with each gust of wind, and the windows shone with an inviting, orange glow—one that promised shelter, comfort, and, most importantly, warmth of the like that her chilled coat and numbing hooves couldn’t ignore. Before she knew what she was doing, she was trotting across the street towards her haven.

Murky silhouettes bobbed in the windows, huddled close together as they talked and drank and ate and laughed. The soft, orange light danced and flickered, promising a crackling fire that kept winter’s chill at bay.

The sight tugged at Bon Bon’s chest, hollowing her core with a sense of yearning that pulled her the last few stumbling steps to the door. The door handle was freezing to the touch, but still she wrapped her hoof around it and pulled it open. A wave of heat rolled out from inside and washed over her, threatening to buckle her knees then and there as she crossed the threshold.

A bell hanging over the door chimed, announcing her entrance before she kicked the door closed, not that any of the other patrons noticed. The din of a dozen conversations filled the cafe as ponies of all shapes and sizes filled the tables and booths scattered across the floor and crowded around the few sofas and plush armchairs nestled by the fire.

Oh, Celestia, there was a fire.

Slowly, the burning, bitter cold faded from her ears as they perked up, eager to catch every snap, crackle, and pop of the log in the hearth. The scent of woodsmoke tickled her nose, easing the beginnings of a smile over her muzzle as she closed her eyes and simply stood on the welcome matt, soaking up as much of everything as she could. She could still hear the sharp whistle of the wind through the crack in the door, prompting her tail to curl around her hind leg and inch deeper into the cafe.

“Hello!” a voice chirped. Blinking open her eyes, Bon Bon glanced to the side and found one of the cafe’s waitresses greeting her with a courteous, but genuine smile. “Welcome to Cuppa Cocoa. Sorry about the mess. We’re just a little busy right now.”

A tray stacked with empty plates, cups, and cutlery hovered over the waitresses’ head, wreathed in a golden aura that almost matched her brilliant golden eyes. The apron she wore was only a few shades darker than her minty green coat and matched the visor that kept the bangs of her two-toned green-and-white mane out of her face.

Though Bon Bon’s teeth chattered, she tried to steady her voice. “It’s no problem. With this storm, I’m not surprised.”

“Crazy, right?” Flashing a smile, the waitress’ horn sparked and the empty plates from the nearest table floated over to settle atop her tray. “We were supposed to get some ‘mild flurries’ according to today’s paper.” The mare rolled her eyes, but her smile remained, as light and jovial as her tone. “Then there was some accident at the weather factory, and now it’s like we’re all living in Yakyakistan!”

Bon Bon put on a smile as feeling returned to her nose. She shifted her weight, rubbing her hooves together to spread the sensation further across her body and nodded. “Yeah, it’s brutal out there.”

“Looks like it! So,” the waitress said, producing a pad of paper and a pen from within her apron, “what can I get started for you?”

“Actually, I’d really like to get a table for one, please.” Licking her lips, Bon Bon glanced around the cafe room. Heads poked out of every booth, and bodies filled every seat. At the waning smile on the waitress’ face, she felt her ears pin back. “Or an empty spot in a booth, if anypony’s willing! I’ll take a footstool, anything.”

The waitress winced. Her gaze dropped to the side as she tucked her pen and pad back into her apron. “Sorry, but we’re all booked up right now. Believe me, if I had any place I could seat you, I would. It’s nasty out there.” She looked back up, meeting Bon Bon with a weak and apologetic smile. “I can get you something hot to warm you up, though.”

The thought of being plunged back into the winter storm, was enough for a shiver to shake Bon Bon from head to hoof. Her ears folded back, disappearing into her mane as her haunches sank to the floor. “Please, I’ll take anything. I’ll sit in the corner on the floor if I have to. Just until the storm passes.”

The mare’s smile slipped away with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, but there’s not an open seat in the house.”

Bon Bon held the waitress’ gaze, blue eyes meeting gold, until the latter looked away. A sympathetic pain fell over the unicorn’s face in the drooping of her ears and the grimace that wrinkled her brow.

She was sorry, Bon Bon knew, but sorry wouldn’t keep her warm.

Another shiver shook her frame. Bon Bon released a breath in a heavy sigh and pushed herself to her hooves. The dusting of snow that clung to the straps of her saddlebags had melted, wetting her fur and adding to the impending chill that would sweep through to her core as soon as she stepped outside. She spared a plastic smile and nod for the waitress. “I understand. Sorry for the trouble.”

And, with her head hung, Bon Bon turned, dragging her hooves with each step to the door. If the fates were kind, then a hotel would be just a street away.

Just as her hoof started to push the door open, a golden aura wrapped around the door handle and pulled it back closed before it so much as jingled the bell. Eyebrow arched, she looked over her shoulder and found the waitress’ horn aglow and her bottom lip firmly bit between her teeth. “Um, yes?”

Glancing from left to right, the waitress set down her tray and skittered towards her. If the other patrons noticed, they didn’t show it as they talked, ate, and drank while the other waiters and waitresses took orders and cleared away plates. “Hang on a second. Look, I’m not supposed to be doing this.” She spoke in a rushed whisper. Her gaze shifted from Bon Bon’s mane, to her tail curled around her hind leg, to her scarf, and to the suitcase balanced on her back.

Bon Bon’s other brow arched in time with her ears perking up from her scalp. A flicker of hope danced in her chest as the waitress chewed her lip and glanced from side to side. “Doing what?”

“It’s just—you just—you look like you’re freezing,” the mare said. Their eyes met, and she took a step forward. One of her ears folded down while the other stood rigid, complimenting the indecision written across her muzzle. Then, reaching out, she rested her hoof on Bon Bon’s shoulder. She yelped, withdrawing her hoof as if bitten by the cold. “Scratch that, you are freezing! How long have you been out there?”

Rubbing the spot where the waitress touched, Bon Bon ducked her head as the slightest tinge of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I don’t know. An hour, maybe? I got kind of lost in the storm.”

“An hour?” The mare balked, clutching her hoof to her chest. Fire sparked and danced behind her eyes, washing away the hesitancy that kept her lip bit between her teeth. She snorted, planting her hooves on the floor. “Okay, no.”

“No? No what?”

“Just wait here for a sec, okay?” The waitress’ tray lifted into the air, once again surrounding by her magic’s golden glow. When she met Bon Bon’s gaze, it was with a grin more lopsided and entirely more fitting. “I’ll be right back.”

“Um,” Bon Bon said, blinking as the waitress waded into the depths of the cafe. “Okay?”

Once she disappeared behind the kitchen doors, Bon Bon exhaled, inching away from the door and towards the fire. Even if it was only for a moment longer, the cold that seeped under her coat and numbed her hooves bade her cling to every second that she could. She let her eyes slide closed and felt a low hum build up in the back of her throat with every bit of her coat that thawed.

The cafe continued on around her, drowning her in a combination of warmth, a sea of conversations, the scratching of chairs on the floor, and the occasional buzzing whirl of the bean grinder. Slowly, the more she became adrift in the ambiance cushioning her, the more her tail unwound from her leg. Another sigh, this one more relieved, blew past her lips as she revelled in the moment.

It all lasted only for that moment before the cadence of hooves prancing towards her made her ear flick. Tightening the scarf around her neck, Bon Bon opened her eyes in time to see the waitress cantering back across the floor. A smile, bright and keen, stretched over her muzzle as she weaved her way through the crowd on the tips of her hooves. “Table for one, right?”

“Yeah,” Bon Bon said, angling her head to the side. Not a single pony had left in the short minute she’d waited. “But I thought you said—”

“Then come this way, we’ve got a table all ready for you!” Wiggling her ears, the waitress skipped over to Bon Bon’s side and, tugging the soon-to-be Ponyvillian by the foreleg, led her through the cafe.

Too cold and too hopeful to argue, Bon Bon let herself be led, though she squinted at the back of the waitress’ head all the while. “I’m sorry, did a table open up?”

The waitress giggled a musical little laugh. “Not exactly.”

Bon Bon’s brow furrowed as she edged around a table filled with enough fresh and warm pastries to make her stomach growl. “Then where are you taking me?”

“I talked to my manager,” the waitress said, grinning that bright and eager smile over her shoulder. “Turns out she shares my opinion on not kicking cold and lost looking mares out into the middle of a snowstorm, so you get to sit at the special table!”

A wrinkle formed in Bon Bon’s brow and an eyebrow arched high on her forehead. “The special table?”

“Well, special if you think that eating where all the staff takes their breaks is special.” The waitress wiggled her ears, drawing a step closer as they neared the kitchen door. “Just follow me and don’t make a scene. We don’t usually let customers back here.”

The door was enveloped in a golden hue that matched the aura humming around the waitress’ horn. With one last reassuring smile, she pushed the door open with her magic and led Bon Bon past a row of storage cupboards. The din of conversation faded to a muffled murmur as the door swung shut behind them, but was immediately replaced by a new wave of smells, sounds, and warmth.

Plates clinked and clattered between gushing bouts of water in the kitchen. The few ponies—the bakers, chef, and dishwashers—talked and read orders, sparing little more than a nod or smile as the two passed by. An oven timer dinged, and as its door opened Bon Bon couldn’t help but rubberneck at the smell of fresh muffins that wafted out, every bit as enticing and delicious as her empty stomach wanted them to be.

The waitress giggled, and Bon Bon looked back to find her watching with an understanding, if impish, smile. “Hungry? We can fix that for you, too.”

The two stopped at a booth tucked away into the corner of the kitchen. Letting go of Bon Bon’s foreleg, the waitress stepped to the side and gestured to the empty bench. “Here you go! Table for one. There’s not much of a view or company back here, but it’s plenty warm! The ovens are right around the corner, so you should get nice and toasty real quick.”

A small shiver made the hairs on Bon Bon’s coat stand on end. She took a step towards the booth and rested her hoof on the table. “Are you sure? I’d hate to get you in any trouble.”

The waitress scoffed, waving off Bon Bon’s concerns with a hoof while she lifted the earth pony mare’s suitcase off of her back in her magic. “I already cleared it with my manager, so there’s nothing to worry about except getting you warm.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Bon Bon watched her suitcase float over the table and come to rest on the bench before she slid in next to it. The wood creaked and groaned as she settled her weight on it, but the cushion underneath was warm. She sighed and let herself sink into its embrace. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it! Now, the next step in getting you warm is getting you something hot to drink. What’s your drink of choice? Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?” Even before Bon Bon met her gaze, she felt the waitress eyeing her up and down. “You look to me like a cocoa kind of mare.”

A meek smile wobbled over Bon Bon’s lips and she bobbed her head in a nod. “Guilty.”

The waitress grinned. “Knew it. We just got a pot of that brewed up. I’ll bring you a cup right away.”

“Thank you,” Bon Bon said, but the words had barely left her lips as the waitress slipped around the corner and into the kitchen. Barely a minute passed and before the waitress returned with a saucer held aloft in her magic.

“One hot cocoa, with extra marshmallows for the cold and frozen mare,” she said, placing the saucer down in front of Bon Bon. Steam wafted up from the cup, tickling her nose with the sugary sweetness of sugar and decadence of melted chocolate. A small mound of mini marshmallows piled up in its centre, melting into a delicious foam that lapped at the cup’s rim.

Bon Bon let the steam and smells wash over her muzzle, building a content hum in her throat. She murmured another ‘thank you’ and wrapped her hooves around the cup. Warmth radiated from it, tingling up and down her forelegs to her shoulders and drawing another relieved sigh from her lips.

“So,” the waitress asked, lingering at the edge of the booth, “are you new in town?”

Bon Bon offered a flicker of a smile as she pulled the cup and its saucer closer. “Did the suitcase and saddlebags give it away?”

The waitress giggled. Again, there was a musical, lilting tone to it, one that roused a flicker of Bon Bon’s ear. “Yeah, that and I’ve never seen you around before. I may have only gotten back to Ponyville a couple months ago, but I still know everypony who lives here.”

Bon Bon nodded as the warmth started to spread across her chest. “Why do you ask?”

Another giggle followed an impish smile that fluttered over the waitress’ muzzle. “Simple, because the first drink’s free for newcomers!”

Blinking, Bon Bon looked from the waitress to the cocoa in her hooves. “Really?”

“Maybe. Possibly.” The mare’s little grin grew, making her eyes dance and sparkle with a delighted golden light. “Okay, it’s not, but it’s on the house anyways! And don’t argue,” she said, tapping her hoof on the table right as Bon Bon scrunched up her muzzle to protest. For a moment, the waitress’ smile softened, bringing the light of her eyes to a warmth akin to the cocoa between Bon Bon’s hooves. “You looked like you needed it, and I may only be a lowly waitress, but I can get you that much.”

There was something about that look that brokered no argument. Still, Bon Bon arched her brow. It was a small gesture, yet somehow enough to make the waitress crack.

“Or, it might be coming out of my pay, but even if it did, whatever.” She shrugged, sidestepping to the other side of the booth. “It’s just one cocoa.”

“That doesn’t seem right.” Shaking her head, Bon Bon reached into her saddlebags for her bit bag. “I may be cold and lost, but I have bits. Let me pay.”

A golden glow surrounded the clasp of Bon Bon’s saddlebag and fastened it tight. “Nope,” the waitress chirped with a grin that crossed over from ‘impish’ to ‘devilish.’ “That’s not how things work in Ponyville, but if you really want to pay me, then how about you pay me with your name? Otherwise, I’m just going to call you ‘Icemare’ all day.”

Despite herself, Bon Bon couldn’t help but smile as she drew the cocoa up to her lips. “It’s Sweet—um. This cocoa. And what you’re doing. It’s all very sweet of you.” Tail curling back around her hind leg, she licked her lips and flicked her gaze to meet the waitress’ eyes. “And I’m Bon Bon.”

“Bon Bon, huh?” the waitress said, tilting her head from one side to the other, almost as if she were tasting the name. Then, nodding her head, she smiled a pretty little smile that made her golden eyes dance and sparkle. “Welcome to Ponyville, Bon Bon! I have to go, y’know, do my job and stuff, but I get on break in like half-an-hour. Maybe we could talk if you’re still around? Oh, right, and anything to eat? Some of the best scones and muffins in town right here, and they’re fresh out of the oven, too!”

Clasping the cup of cocoa just shy of her muzzle, Bon Bon bit down on the corner of her lip. Her eyes wandered from her suitcase and saddlebags to the empty bench across from her—every bit as empty as her compartment on the train. “Maybe,” she said, letting her gaze wander over the table and back to the waitress’ smiling muzzle. Between the warmth of the cocoa, the kitchen, and the mare’s smile, she could only smile in return. “Yes, I think I’d like that. I’d much rather that than being alone. And I’d love both a muffin and a scone, please.”

The waitress’ grin widened to stretch from ear to ear. “Great! I just need to go check on some tables, refill a few drinks, and then I’ll bring those right to you.” Her tail bobbed with a noticeable skip in her step as she turned and trotted back through the kitchen, pausing only once she reached the door. “Oh, right!” She looked back over her shoulder, smiling that impish smile all over again. “My name’s Lyra, by the way! Be back in a sec!”

Bon Bon watched the waitress—Lyra—leave. The door swung on its hinges, granting little glimpses into the cafe proper and the frosted windows beyond. Cupping the cocoa between her hooves, she lifted it up to her lips and took a long, slow sip. Warmth poured down her throat as she swallowed and spread down to the tips of her hind hooves. She licked her lips, wiping away the lingering marshmallow foam and savouring the taste of chocolate on her tongue.

Yet another sigh floated past her lips, bringing with it a smile that likewise floated over her muzzle. She took another longer sip.

Lyra.

Maybe Ponyville wasn’t such a bad place to start over in after all.

And Into the Warm

Ponies came and went over the course of the next half-hour. Waitresses bustled in and out of the kitchen, arriving with trays covered with empty plates and cups, and departing with fresh pastries, savory food, and steaming drinks—exactly what anypony needed to weather a winter storm. Sometimes, they stopped to ask Bon Bon how she was, or if there was anything they could get for her. Still nursing her cocoa and half of her scone, she would politely decline. Every time, though, she tried to return the smile that each waitress greeted her with.

The cold and snow that froze her coat became distant memories the longer she lavished in the cafe’s warmth. As Lyra promised, she was warm, toasty, and more than content to sit in the corner of her booth until she was asked to leave.

Bon Bon scooped the last bite of her scone into her mouth, allowing herself a satisfied hum at the taste of strawberry jam mixing ever so wonderfully with the buttery treat. Then, lifting her cup to her lips, she drank down the last mouthful of her cocoa. Though it had cooled some, it was no less sweet and had yet to fail to stoke the warmth that had been kindled in her chest.

She licked her lips, savouring the sweetness of the chocolate that lingered on her tongue, and set her empty cup down. Not a second passed before a knock on the booth drew a flick from her ear. Her smile came easier when she looked up and found Lyra leaning against the booth’s wooden frame. “On your break?”

A smile danced over Lyra’s muzzle. “Yup, finally. Is it still okay if I join you for a bit?”

“Please,” Bon Bon said, waving to the empty bench across from her. “I’d really like the company.”

“And I’d like to be the company!” Wiggling her ears, Lyra slid into the booth, heaving a sigh the moment her flanks hit the bench. She swept off her visor and dropped it on the table with one hoof while the other ran through her mane. Locks of green and white tumbled around her horn and bobbed just over her eyes.

Bon Bon had to suppress a giggle at the sight. “Busy out there?”

That drew a snort from Lyra, one that sharpened the unicorn’s grin. “Yeah, like you don’t know.” Her eyes bounced from the empty cup on their way to meet Bon Bon’s gaze, and a slow chuckle sounded from her throat. “Was it good?”

Bon Bon nodded, her hooves still loosely wound around the empty cup. Though she was warm and cozy, there was a certain comfort in holding a hot drink between one’s hooves. It was a comfort that any stranger would crave in a new town filled with new ponies, and she was no exception. “It was delicious.”

“Then I take it you wouldn’t mind another?” Horn aglow, Lyra propped her head up on her hoof as two saucers floated over to their booth from the kitchen and settled with a soft clink on the table. Steam wafted up from the cup in front of Bon Bon, enticing her once more with the promise of warmth, chocolate, and sweetness.

Already her hooves wrapped around the new cup, drinking in its warmth that melted the marshmallows bobbing on top. A hum rumbled in the back of her throat, prompting a lighter, gigglier laugh from Lyra. “I thought you might need a refill.”

Lyra’s voice, amused and musical, drew Bon Bon’s gaze up from her cocoa. “Am I going to get to pay for this one?”

Snickering, Lyra lifted her own cup of cocoa in the light of her magic. “Who said refills aren’t free?” She blew softly over the drink, sending wafts of steam rolling across the table. “And even if they aren’t, it’s cocoa, so this still technically classifies it as your first drink. Besides, two cocoas aren’t going to empty my wallet or anything.”

Though she hid it behind her cup, Bon Bon saw the edge of her companion’s smile and heard it in her voice. It was sly, but sweet; mischievous, but caring—not that it did anything to stop the scowl from furrowing the candy-maker’s brow. “Hang on. I might be new in town, but I’m perfectly capable of paying for my drinks.”

“I guess you’ll find out when you get the bill,” Lyra said, grinning that sweet, eye-sparkling smile again. She held Bon Bon’s gaze as she took her first, small sip of her drink, and licked away a bit of stray marshmallow fluff on her lip. “But if you really want to, you could always pay me by telling me a little bit about yourself.”

Bon Bon dropped her scowl with a snort, but the cocoa was too delicious to maintain a grumpy facade. Besides, she had a growing feeling that her company was too endearing for anything more than a roll of the eyes. Or, if things persisted, a gentle, but reprimanding, bap on the head. “I can do math, you know. If you don’t include everything on the bill, then I’ll just tip you whatever it was worth.”

“Ooooh, feisty.” Grin turning catlike, Lyra lowered her cup down to its saucer and steepled her hooves. Her eyes twinkled and danced with golden, naked delight. “Then maybe I’ll just make everything on the house.”

Bon Bon narrowed her eyes and spread her hooves out across the table. “Then I’ll just have to guess.”

“You can certainly try.” Lidding her gaze, Lyra rested her chin on her steepled hooves. “But you’re sitting at the staff table. We don’t accept tips from the staff table.”

“What?”

“Never have, never will,” she said in a sing-song voice. “And if everything’s on the house, then you’re technically not a paying customer. How can I accept tips from a non-paying customer? That just doesn’t seem right.”

Bon Bon stared at Lyra, her eyes piercing and fierce while the unicorn regarded her with amusement and an aura of smug victory. Another snort turned into a groan as she looked away and sunk back into her bench. “Fine, you win. If I tell you about myself will you let me pay?”

“We’ll see,” Lyra said, sitting back and sipping deeply from her cocoa. “It depends on what you tell me. How about we start with something simple, liiiiiiiike what brought you to Ponyville?”

In an instant, Bon Bon’s shoulders stiffened and her ears went rigid. Her tail lashed across the bench, whipping back and forth while her voice caught somewhere in her throat. Feigning a cough, she found the corner of her lip between her teeth and her gaze dropped to Lyra’s hooves. Of all the questions she could have asked, why did it have to be that one?

“Oh,” Bon Bon said, clearing her throat. “That.” Her hooves squeezed her cup, squeezing what comfort she could from its warmth, and trailed her gaze along a path to her suitcase and saddlebags. “That’s sort of a long story.”

Wood squeaked and groaned as Lyra leaned over the table. The sound brought Bon Bon’s gaze back around. Curiosity danced behind the waitress’ eyes in flickering motes of gold, but there was also concern that weighed upon her brow. “Did something happen?”

Bon Bon’s ears drooped, pinning back to her mane in time with her gaze dropping to her cocoa. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Things kind of—” She cleared her throat, offering a strained, wobbly smile. “—fell apart with work and stuff.”

“Oh.” Lines furrowed Lyra’s brow, wrinkling it into a frown equal parts confused and concerned. “I’m sorry to hear that, Bon Bon. Did you want to talk about it?”

With a shake of her head and a rueful little smile, Bon Bon said, “No, not really. I came here looking for a new start, where I could leave all of that stuff behind. Ponyville sounded nice. Quiet. Friendly.” She lifted her gaze, guiding it around the kitchen and their booth in the corner of the cafe before it fell on Lyra and the frown that wrinkled her snout. “The last one certainly seems to be true.”

The scowl lifted from Lyra’s face, replaced with a lighter and easier smile. “Yeah, Ponyville’s pretty great. And, ah, I’m sorry.” She winced, flickering the smile into a tight-lined grimace. “I didn’t mean to pry into serious stuff like that.”

“Lyra,” Bon Bon said, ducking her head to catch the unicorn’s falling gaze, “you brought me in out of the cold, gave me free cocoa, and have been wonderful to me.” Once she caught Lyra’s eyes, she smiled. It felt warm, genuine, and easy to do. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Well, okay.” Something shaky and caught between a laugh and a sigh tumbled past Lyra’s lips. “So, I couldn’t help but notice when you came in that you have a bunch of candies for your cutie mark. Do you make candy?” After a second, she added, “Or is that another minefield I should avoid?”

Though Bon Bon’s brow arched, she shook her head and allowed herself a giggle. “No, no, that’s fine. I guess I should be flattered that my flank somehow managed to stand out in a cafe filled with ponies.”

Lyra coughed and sputtered the sip she took from her cocoa. A faint, reddish hue crept across her muzzle as she shook her head and wiped the mess from her lips. “That isn’t what I meant! It’s just—I’d never seen you before, so I was curious! I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to stare or anything!”

A dam broke, and a torrent of giggling laughter burst forward from Bon Bon’s mouth. Though she tried to hide it behind her hoof, there was no stopping it as the blush grew over Lyra’s face, colouring her cheeks a rosy red and shone even as the unicorn muttered and buried her head in her hooves.

“It’s okay, Lyra,” Bon Bon said between snortfuls of laughter. “I was only teasing. Unless you were staring?”

Lifting her head, Lyra pursed her lips and snorted, her cheeks no less flushed, and said, “Even if I was, I was raised right. I’d totally buy the mare dinner before, well, y’know.”

Mischief, along with snow, friendship, and warmth seemed abundant and contagious in Ponyville as Bon Bon arched her brow and took a slow sip of her cocoa. “Kind of like what you’re doing right now?”

Bon Bon felt the longer strands of Lyra’s tail tickle her thigh as it lashed back and forth underneath the table. The unicorn squirmed in her seat, puffing out her cheeks in clear foalish defiance. “Oh, shut up. Do you make candy, yes or no?”

“Yes,” Bon Bon said, smiling around the rim of her cup as she took another sip. “Or at least I’d like to. I’ve always wanted to have my own candy store. Nothing big or fancy, just something I could run on my own.”

Lyra’s ears perked as the blush began to dwindle from her cheeks. “Oh yeah?”

“I used to dream about it when I was a little filly.” A different kind of warmth crept up along Bon Bon’s neck and kissed her cheeks, no doubt staining her cream-coloured coat a lollipop-red. “It’s kind of silly, I know, but I think I have enough bits saved up to make it happen.” She shook her head and chuckled, swirling the contents of her cup. “But I bet Ponyville already has its own candy store, so I don’t know if that’ll ever actually happen.”

“Are you kidding? That’s not silly at all!” A toothy grin split Lyra’s muzzle. “And we totally don’t have any cool candy shops here! I mean, we have Sugarcube Corner, but that’s a bakery. You’d fit right in!”

Bon Bon couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm in the other mare’s voice. She hummed, dwelling over and savouring the new kind of warmth that reached her cheeks—entirely unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. What was a new life without new feelings and new warmths? “You think so?”

“I know so! I know we’ve only just met, but you seem really cool. And maybe I was looking earlier. Just a little.” The glow of Lyra’s magic enveloped her cup, lifting it to her lips as she winked. “This town could use a little more eye candy.”

That bought a snort-driven giggle from Bon Bon. “Oh, stop.”

“I’m being fully serious! That sounds like a great dream, Bon Bon. You want to hear what a real silly dream sounds like?” A softer, more fragile giggle fell from Lyra’s lips. She lowered her cup into her hooves, cupping it the same way Bon Bon had. “When I was a little tyke, I used to dream about being in the Equestrian Philharmonic Orchestra. Y’know, playing at huge venues all around Equestria, working my way up to first chair, all that good stuff.”

Ears perked, Bon Bon nodded and sipped from her cocoa. The musical tone of Lyra’s voice and the lilting, bell-like quality of her laugh made sense now but did little to make them any less fascinating to listen to. “So you’re a musician, then?”

“Yup. Buy me dinner next time and maybe I’ll let you have a look at my flank to see for yourself.”

“Oh, hush.” Plucking a balled up napkin from her side of the table, Bon Bon tossed it at Lyra and grinned as it harmlessly bounced off of her horn. “What do you play?”

“The lyre,” Lyra said, scrunching up her muzzle and going cross-eyed in vain effort to look up at her horn. “And I sing, too. Not, like, Sapphire Shores or anything. I’m nowhere near that good, but I like to think I’m okay.”

“Do you think you could show me sometime?” Bon Bon watched Lyra’s ears perk and swivel towards her and her eyes widen just a hair. “Not right now, but if I’m going to be moving here, I think I’d really like to hear it. I bet you sing wonderfully.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” A smile eked over Lyra’s face. One of her hooves poked and prodded at the few marshmallows bobbing on the surface of her cocoa while the other ran through her mane. Her smile grew when she met Bon Bon’s gaze. “Yes, definitely. I’d love to.”

Something fluttered in Bon Bon’s chest when she returned the smile. “Something to look forward to once this weather clears up. But, um, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Lyra said, plucking one of the remaining marshmallows from her cocoa with a swipe of her tongue. “It’s only fair.”

“If you’re a musician, then what are you doing waiting tables in a cafe?”

Lyra’s ears perked at the question before drooping down against her mane. She chewed the marshmallow and swallowed, shifting in her seat all the while. “Oh, well, it’s not easy for a musician to get work sometimes. Turns out there are a lot of musically talented ponies in Canterlot, and a lot of them have those fancy pedigrees and inheritances and family reputations and stuff.” She shrugged, the gesture helpless, but her face bore an expression of tired acceptance that reflected in the sagging of her smile and the sinking of her eyes. “A country girl like me is likely to be looked over when there’s a lineup of prodigies practicing since they were, like, four.”

“Oh.” Bon Bon felt her own ears folding back. “I guess it was my turn to hit a minefield, wasn’t it?”

“If you stick around until the end of my shift, maybe we can call it even?” A flicker of a smile pulled at the corner of Lyra’s mouth. “I’ll load you up with all the free cocoa you want.”

“I have a feeling you’d do that anyway. Anything to impress the fillies, right?”

The weight hanging over Lyra’s expression broke in the wake of another musical, lilting laugh. “I’d try serenading you, but I’m pretty sure my manager would pin my tail to the wall for disrupting the other customers.”

“Then I’ll have to settle for the cocoa.” Bon Bon’s smile came easily in response to Lyra’s, and she found the glittering, twinkling mischief in the latter’s eyes gone. In its place was a piquing fondness, one that made her eyes glow a warm, tender, and soft molten shade of gold. “So, is that why you moved back to Ponyville?”

Lyra’s smile turned equally as fond as her eyes wandered out towards the kitchen and cafe proper. “Yeah, even though I went to school in Canterlot, Ponyville’s my home. I think I could be happy here, even if I never end up as some big-time philharmonic player.”

Before Bon Bon could reply, an oven timer dinged in the kitchen, and Lyra was on her hooves in a second. “Oh! While you’re here, you have to try the brownies. They’re so good, especially when they’re fresh out of the oven. Hang on, I’ll go get us one!”

With a flick and swish of her tail, Lyra turned to the kitchen. She only made it a step, though, before Bon Bon leaned out of the booth and rested her hoof on her shoulder. The former’s ear flicked, and she looked over her shoulder with the slightest sheen of uncertainty in her golden eyes. “Not hungry?”

“A brownie sounds wonderful,” Bon Bon said, retracting her hoof with a gentle, if firm, smile. “But I’m paying for it, and I am a little full from the muffin and scone.” She folded her hooves over the table and returned one of Lyra’s many playful ear wiggles as she settled back in her seat. “So you’ll just have to help me eat it.”

Lyra only hesitated for a second before a bright smile spread over her muzzle, lighting up her eyes a dazzling, sparkling gold. “I think I can live with that.”

“Good.” Clasping her hooves around her cocoa, Bon Bon lifted the cups to her lips, letting her senses become awash in warmth, sweetness, and chocolate. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

“And I’ll be back in a flash!”

Lyra’s hooves clip-clopped in a cadence over the floor in her hurry to the kitchen. As the tip of her tail disappeared around the corner, Bon Bon sipped slowly from her cup. The warmth of the cocoa trickled down her throat, mixing and mingling with an entirely different warmth that danced aflutter in her chest.

It wasn’t exactly how she thought she’d start her new life in Ponyville. A week ago, such feelings would cause complication after complication, but such complications were part of her old life.

For the life of Bon Bon, candy-maker and soon-to-be Ponyvillian, there was nothing to stop her from embracing them and no shame in letting them ripple and tingle from head to hoof. As she sipped again from her cup, she found herself smiling and counting the seconds until Lyra’s return.

Perhaps the life of Bon Bon would be better than she expected.

By the time Bon Bon had ventured back out into the streets of Ponyville, night had long since fallen. The sky, now clear from the dense, grey, and snow-laden clouds that blanketed it hours ago, came to life with more stars than anypony could hope to count. They twinkled and shone, dancing high above while the mare in the moon watched over it all, its shadow scrawled upon the moon’s surface as ponies slept and sought warmth in the comfort of their homes.

The streets were no less covered in snow than they were when Bon Bon stumbled into the cafe, but now that the wind had stilled and that the world had gone quiet, it created a breathtaking sight. Pale moonlight shone down on the streets, catching in the snow and reflecting the dazzling, sparkling dance of the stars above. Nary a hoofprint marred the snow’s surface, casting the town in a moment of winter tranquility and peace she had only ever before seen in paintings kept in the Royal Canterlot Museum.

Tonight, she found herself lucky to walk through such a vista, and luckier still to not walk through it alone.

The hum of Lyra’s magic sounded a constant buzz on the edge of her hearing and its golden glow guided their way through the streets. Bon Bon’s suitcase, enveloped in the same glow, bobbed in the air beside them and her saddlebags thumped against her sides with each crunch of her hoof in the snow. Though she felt the cold nip at her nose and cling to her hooves, she couldn’t help but relish in the warmth that filled her belly and lingered in her chest. It may not have risen to a roaring, knee-wobbling flame, but it held a steady smolder that was stoked with each brush of their shoulders.

Any sound might have broken the moment, but a soft, musical giggle from Lyra did nothing of the sort. Now that she had heard it enough, Bon Bon could at least place what it reminded her of—a set of hooves softly plucking at a harp’s strings. “Cold?”

With an easy smile, or perhaps with one that hadn’t left for some time now, Bon Bon shook her head. “Not at all. It must have been that last brownie.”

Lyra’s giggle turned into a sharper snickering. Under her toque, Bon Bon knew she must have been wiggling her ears as she so liked to do. “Told you they were good.”

“And you were too right.” Wrapping a hoof around her stomach, Bon Bon wheezed out a small, half-hearted groan. “I’m so full.”

“Good.” Their shoulders brushed together as Lyra leaned in a step closer. “That means you’re going to sleep like a log tonight so that tomorrow you can start your hunt for the perfect place to open up your candy shop!”

Bon Bon returned the gesture, bumping their shoulders together with a bubbly little laugh. “I’m so ready to collapse into a nice, warm bed right now. I haven’t been this exhausted since forever.” Casting a furtive glance at the night sky, she let loose another groan belied by the smile dancing across her muzzle. “I can’t believe I was at the cafe until closing, and I can’t believe your manager was okay with that.”

“Eh, I might’ve promised her a couple overtime shifts later this week,” Lyra said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “But it was worth it, and I’d do it again, especially for a mare like you, Bon Bon.”

“Overtime shifts?” Ears perked, the corners of Bon Bon’s lips twisted into a frown. She eyed her newest friend, narrowing her gaze and ignoring the flutter of warmth in her chest for the moment. “You didn’t say anything about that when I paid the bill.”

“Yeah, and I guess your tip wasn’t that great given the exceptional service.” Lyra’s eyes danced and twinkled with motes of gold, much like the snow below them and the sky above. “Guess you’ll just have to find some way to make it up to me. Especially since I’m walking you to the hotel and carrying your suitcase, free of charge.”

Bon Bon hummed, flicking sprinkles of snow with her swishing tail. “It almost sounds like you’re trying to come up with excuses for us to spend time together again.”

The corner of Lyra’s mouth lifted in a catlike smirk. “Maybe I’m just trying to keep things fair. You still haven’t had a chance to look at my flank, remember?”

Bon Bon snorted. “What’s to stop me from taking a look right now?”

Like the cat who caught the canary, Lyra’s grin turned vulpine. “Good question. Nothing, I guess.”

The tip of Lyra’s tail swept to the side, tickling over Bon Bon’s haunches. Together with the molten glow of her eyes, there was no ignoring the flutter in the earth pony’s chest or the prickling heat that warmed her cheeks. At least in the cold, her blush would be invisible. “Well, perhaps I also know how to treat a mare.”

Lyra cocked her head to the side. “Oh yeah?”

“Very much so,” Bon Bon said, lifting her nose to the air and shooting her companion a sidelong grin. The trepidation and unease she felt when she first stepped off the train were long gone, buried and forgotten in a snow drift somewhere between the train station and the cafe. “And I also know how to settle tips and show certain mares my gratitude, especially when they’re going out of their way.”

“It’s hardly out of my way. In fact, it’s on my way, remember?” Lyra jerked her head further down the street, grinning that eye-sparkling impish grin of hers. “I live right by the hotel.”

“Right. Where do you live, then, exactly?”

“Don’t judge me for it, but I actually live at home with my mom and dad.” A stilted, awkward chuckle fell from Lyra’s lips, and she reached back to scratch at the base of her neck. “They’re on Saddle Street, and I am looking for a place of my own. I just need to save up a few bits first.”

“With mom and dad, huh?” Bon Bon chuckled, eager to return the grin she’d already seen so many times today. “Does that make you a little mama’s—wait.” Brow furrowing and gaze narrowing, she came to a stop. “Saddle Street?”

Ear flicking, Lyra paused only a few steps ahead to turn around. “Uh, yeah?”

“I know that street!” A snort turned into a growl as Bon Bon stomped her hoof into the snow, spraying flakes all around her and wedging her hoof into the cold. “I saw it a few blocks away from the train station! That’s on the other side of town!”

“Oh.” The confidence, swagger, and allure evaporated from Lyra’s smile, leaving a wobbly, meek mess in its place. She pawed the ground, drawing a line in the snow while her shoulders shook with the effort of forcing a chuckle. “Whoops. Guess it is. Silly me.”

“Lyra!” Stomping her way through the snow, Bon Bon closed the few steps that separated them. With Lyra’s meek smile and ducked head, she towered over the unicorn and let her frown furrow her brow. “It’s going to take you forever to get home, and it’s freezing out!”

“Maybe.” Lyra shrugged. She licked her lips and, swallowing, raised her head. Bon Bon didn’t falter as they stood almost snout-to-snout, no matter how entrancing her companion’s eyes were with the moonlight caught within them. “But you know what? I don’t care. I’d do it again, and trust me—” Her smile returned, smaller and more demure. “—I’m not cold. Not at all. Not after tonight.”

Bon Bon sighed and shook her head, gently brushing her shoulder against Lyra’s as she trudged past her. That way, there was no chance she saw her smile. “Are you always this impossible?”

The crunch of Lyra’s hooves throw the snow followed, and a second later she felt the shoulder-bump returned. “Maybe. Guess you’ll have to find out.”

A chuckle rolled past Bon Bon’s lips. Gaze downcast, she felt her smile continue to warm her face at the sight of Lyra’s hooves stepping in line with hers. “I can think of worse fates.”

They rounded a street corner, passing by a bench piled high with snow that swept over its back and arms. For a time, they fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by their breaths curling up into the air in puffs of white fog, the soft crunch of their hooves, and the rhythmic thump of Bon Bon’s saddlebags against her sides. Though she may have gotten lost in the storm, Ponyville was not that big of a town. Even if they dawdled and went along the most scenic route possible, their time together would soon come to an end, at least for tonight.

And despite all of the warmth, the smile lingering over her muzzle, and their shoulders brushing together every few steps, a question buzzed at the back of Bon Bon’s mind. The longer the silence lasted, the louder it became, until she found her pace slowing, the corner of her lip between her teeth, and her eyes on her hooves.

Something soft and silky flicked over her haunches, making her blink. The sound of hooves stopped, and when she lifted her head, she found Lyra in front of her, head angled to the side and muzzle lined with faint concern. “Everything okay?”

Lyra, Bon Bon discovered, was easy to smile at. Wrapping her scarf one more loop around her neck, she stepped forward, nudging her companion along with her. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Okay,” Lyra said, her frown lingering as she followed. “About what?”

The question buzzed, and Bon Bon knew she had to ask it before she could say goodbye. Even if she would see Lyra tomorrow, she knew she had to ask. Licking her lips, she rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “About you.”

Lyra’s steps faltered for only a second, then skittered through the snow. When she lowered her head to meet Bon Bon’s gaze, her ears were perked and her frown was gone, washed away by an eagerness that widened her eyes to a bright, glowing gold. “Really?”

Bon Bon giggled. How could she not? “Mmhmm. I have a question for you, actually.”

“Anything.”

Lifting her head, Bon Bon exhaled. “I just wanted to ask why.” Clearing her throat, she kept her stride as the eagerness on Lyra’s face gave way to confusion. The unicorn quirked a brow, wrinkling her muzzle, but waited for more. “Why did you do all of this for me?”

To her surprise, Lyra snickered. She shook her head and cocked her lips into an increasingly-familiar wry little smirk that made her eyes sparkle and dance with light. “Seriously?”

“Oh, come on,” Bon Bon said, fighting down a smile of her own as she bumped hips with her companion. “You barely know more than my name, and you knew even less when you stuck your neck out for me to get me a table.”

“Not true! I know a lot more about you than that, Bon Bon.” Lyra’s smirk softened into something warmer, something that made the amused flickering dancing behind her eyes lower into a smoldering fondness. “Yeah, it’s only been a few hours, but I know that you dream of running your own candy shop. I know you’re funny, nice, and really fun to talk to. You’re really pretty, and stubborn as a mule if you walked through that storm for an hour.”

Fighting through the blush that licked her cheeks, Bon Bon brushed a loose strand of her mane behind her ear. “Most smart mares would have stopped at pretty.”

“Really pretty,” Lyra said. Though they were alone in the empty street, she dropped her voice to a murmur meant only for Bon Bon to hear. “And who said stubborn was bad? Stubborn’s kinda hot.”

Heat prickled up along Bon Bon’s muzzle, burning the tips of her ears and no doubt darkening her coat to a bright, rosy hue. “Nopony is just that nice to somepony they’ve never met before, Lyra.”

“Then you really are new to Ponyville.” They were walking side-by-side now, close enough that their shoulders brushed together with almost every step. When Lyra spoke, little puffs of air tickled Bon Bon’s coat, and the candy making mare shivered as a long exhale washed over her fur. “Do you really want to know? It’s a bit of a long story, and we’re almost at the hotel.”

“I can walk very slowly when the mood strikes me.” Bon Bon lashed out her tail, flicking it over Lyra’s haunches and slowing her pace to a slow shuffle through the snow. “And you’d best get to talking, then.”

Another, smaller sigh pushed past Lyra’s lips. She slowed down, falling in line with Bon Bon in a slow crawl through the sleepy town. “Alright, that’s fair. I told you how I grew up in Ponyville but did my schooling in Canterlot, right?”

Bon Bon nodded and took a half-step closer to Lyra, moving in towards the warmth to stave off the winter chill that grew the slower they moved. “Yeah. You went to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“My parents wanted me to have a really good education,” Lyra said, matching Bon Bon’s half-step so that the hairs of their coats started to mix and mingle as they walked. “They sent me to live with my grandparents in Canterlot while I went to school. They were great, don’t get me wrong, but it was also like living in a museum. A lot of ‘don’t touch this,’ ‘don’t touch that,’ ‘don’t track mud in on the carpet.’”

Bon Bon giggled softly. “You were a mud-tracker as a foal, were you?”

“You should’ve seen me on the playground.” Lyra returned the laugh, creasing her lips into a thin, devilish little smirk. “But it wasn’t all bad, you know? They were totally dedicated to their art and music, which was pretty cool. I learned a lot from them, but I missed home. Canterlot’s beautiful, but it’s not Ponyville. I missed my friends, I missed the smell of apples on the wind, I missed the schoolhouse bell, playing in Whitetail Wood—” A snort sounded from her nostrils and she shook her head. When she found Bon Bon’s gaze, it was with a small, demure thing of a smile. “I guess you can tell I’m a Ponyville gal at heart.”

Bon Bon returned the smile, leaning in to mesh their coats together for a fleeting second. “I think it’s endearing, and I think I know the feeling.”

Lyra cleared her throat, reaching up to scratch at the nape of her neck. Though her coat wasn’t the same treacherous cream colour as Bon Bon’s, the fur around her cheeks darkened a shade or two. “Yeah, well, I was pretty lonely when I was sent up there. I didn’t know a lot of ponies my age, and the foals that I did know were like, child prodigies. Dedicated and talented and with big names like ‘Harmony’ who didn’t have time to make friends with a small town mare from nowhere.”

Ears drooping, Bon Bon lifted her gaze to Mount Canterhorn. Even from as far away as Ponyville, the moonlight still shone and reflected off of the golden parapets of Canterlot Castle. “I’m sorry. To me, it sounds like they missed out on meeting a very special pony.”

A soft chuckle shook Lyra’s shoulders. “Thanks, but it didn’t last for too long. I was pretty scared on the first day of school,” she said, and Bon Bon caught the tip of her mane shaking back and forth out of the corner of her eye. “Everypony else had friends already, so I was just sort of on my own, at least up until lunch.”

Cocking her head to the side, Bon Bon returned her attention to the mare at her side. “What happened at lunch?”

“I was sitting alone in a corner in the cafeteria. I was feeling lost and alone, you know? But then, this little filly I recognized from my class walked on up to me and asked if I wanted to eat lunch with her and her friends.” Warmth bled into Lyra’s smile, matching an old, but unyielding fondness that touched her eyes. “I barely said yes before she grabbed me and dragged me over to this table of ponies. A couple of ‘em were a little quiet, but everypony else was super excited to meet me. We shared desserts and they made me feel like I belonged. It was a really good feeling.”

Bon Bon let the warmth she felt ballooning in her chest swell and lift her lips into a smile. Walking as they were at their slow pace, it was a trivial effort to let her hoof stray over to the side, brush over Lyra’s foreleg, and briefly clasp around the hoof below. It was cold and skin-prickling to the touch, sending ripples of gooseflesh up her own foreleg, but her smile didn’t falter in the slightest. “I think I know what that’s like. All of it.”

Adding to the swelling warmth in her chest, Lyra loosely wrapped her hoof around Bon Bon’s, sending a different kind of shiver up along the latter’s shoulder. “That’s the story of how I met my best friends. They still live up in Canterlot, and I visit them whenever I can, and they come down here to Ponyville all the time. Keep hanging around me, and you’ll probably meet them before long.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Bon Bon withdrew her hoof. “I can’t wait.”

“They’ll love you,” Lyra said, slipping on an easy, lopsided smile before shaking her head. “Anyways, at the end of that first day, I went up and asked the filly the same thing you asked me. Do you know what she said?”

A light, playful snort escaped Bon Bon’s snout as she flicked her tail over Lyra’s haunches. “If I did, maybe I wouldn’t have asked you in the first place.”

Lyra snickered in return, bumping her hip to Bon Bon’s. “She said that I looked lonely and sad all alone in the cafeteria.” It was all too easy for the unicorn to scooch one step closer, bringing their shoulders flush together. “She said that I looked like I needed a friend and a reason to smile because everypony’s happier and prettier when they’re smiling.”

They rounded a corner, and though Bon Bon wished the street kept on winding and weaving, she knew their time together was coming to an end. Their pace slowed to a gradual stop, and though she saw a hotel sign across the road, she found her attention lingering on the mare at her side, the feeling of their coats meshing and rubbing together, and the warmth that flowed between them.

“So when I saw you shivering in the doorway,” Lyra said, her voice an affectionate murmur against the cool and bitter breeze, “I thought of that day.” Her foreleg barely had to move to brush over Bon Bon’s. The touch sent the hairs along the earth pony mare’s foreleg standing on end. “You looked like you needed a reason to smile. I just didn’t know how much I’d like seeing you smile until after I saw it.”

Smiling was certainly an easy thing to do right then, no matter how wobbly or demure it may have been. Warmth fluttered in Bon Bon’s chest, licking up along her neck and tingeing her cheeks with heat. “Lyra,” she said, squeezing her hoof around the unicorn’s, “you’re already holding hooves with me and making me blush. I don’t think you need to worry about flattering me anymore.”

Lyra giggles, its musical, lilting tone not lost to the wind. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, and even prettier when you smile. Why wouldn’t I want to flatter you?”

Bon Bon’s tail swished from side to side, spraying motes of snow that sparkled in the moonlight. “Well, maybe you can give it a rest for tonight, and save it for tomorrow? Or the weekend, or whenever you have time.” She cleared her throat and swallowed, finding her gaze drawn down to their entwined hooves. “I think I’d very much like to do this again.”

Only a second passed before a touch on her cheek made her ears stand on end. For a lingering, fleeting moment, she felt Lyra’s breath on her ear and heard the hum in her throat as she nuzzled her way along Bon Bon’s jaw. “Me, too. I have Friday off.”

Bon Bon licked her lips, delighting in a fresh new warmth that spread across her muzzle. “Friday it is, then.”

When Lyra pulled back, it was with a rosy line drawn across her muzzle, matching Bon Bon. Her eyes, however, glittered a brilliant gold illuminated by the smile that stretched from ear to ear. “Okay. Okay! I’ll meet you here? We can go for lunch and I can show you around town!” The tip of her tail flicked back and forth. “Maybe we can scope out some places for you to set up your shop!”

Bon Bon giggled into her scarf, suppressing a shiver as a gust of wind blew down the street. “That sounds perfect. Now, are you going to be warm enough getting home? It’s freezing.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ll be just fine.” Lyra’s hoof squeezed around Bon Bon’s, and her smile never wavered as the wind blew. “I’m not feeling cold at all.”

Despite herself, Bon Bon felt her lips pull into a frown. “Are you sure?”

Lyra nodded her head once. “Definitely. But maybe,” she said, taking that last step that kept them apart, “I could do something. Just in case.”

Now, barely an inch apart, Bon Bon’s world became engulfed by Lyra’s eyes. They glowed with a smoldering warmth, one that kept winter’s chill at bay and drew the earth pony mare in like a moth to a flame. Hot little puffs of air washed over her snout, and a fluttering in her chest made her knees begin to wobble. Though she knew the answer, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is it something I could help with?”

Lyra’s smile wasn’t sly, impish, or vulpine. Instead, it was something just as warm as her eyes, and every bit as enticing. Without another word, she angled her head to the side, leaning in those last precious few inches until her lips grazed over Bon Bon’s cheek.

Once more her breath tickled Bon Bon’s ear and a fresh, rolling wave of warmth blossomed, centered on where Lyra’s lips met her cheek. The fluttering grew, and she found her breath caught somewhere in her throat.

When Lyra pulled away, it was with the same smile that entranced Bon Bon so. “There,” she said, speaking in hushed, delicate murmurs. “That’ll definitely keep me warm until I get home. And you should get inside before you freeze.”

There was a delightful moment then in which Bon Bon didn’t think. Listening to the warmth that filled her chest and made her heart flutter, she squeezed her hoof, holding Lyra still as the unicorn made to slip away. She gazed into golden eyes, feeling her lips curl into a smile at the lines that furrowed the other mare’s brow.

“I’ll be plenty warm in a second,” Bon Bon said, pulling Lyra’s hoof closer and closer until they stood snout-to-snout. She lidded her gaze, tittering softly at the hitch in the unicorn’s throat. “It’s you I’m more worried about. I think I’d better make sure.”

Tilting her head to the side, Bon Bon caught Lyra’s lips in a soft, gentle kiss. The other mare went rigid at the lingering contact, but before long relaxed.

The kiss itself wasn’t anything full of passion and fervour. No, much like the warmth that spread from Bon Bon’s core, it was soft, lingering, and made her every fibre flutter and quiver. Lightning didn’t arc through her veins or draw moans from her lips. In its place was a gentle peace and tranquility, one that let the kiss linger in the biting winter wind.

Bon Bon lifted her hoof, gently cupping and stroking Lyra’s cheek as they at last separated. She gazed at the unicorn through lidded eyes, nibbling ever-so-gently on her bottom lip before leaning up to whisper in her ear, “Get home safely.”

She felt Lyra nod against her neck and a shuddered breath wash over her fur. The feeling brought Bon Bon in closer until their coats meshed and mingled again. “Good. Then I’ll see you on Friday?”

Lyra nodded again, and Bon Bon felt as much as she heard her reply, “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Bon Bon giggled into Lyra’s ear, lingering long enough to plant one last chaste, peck of a kiss at the base of the unicorn’s ear before stepping away. “Good night, Lyra.”

Now that they had separated, Bon Bon could see and delight in exactly how brightly Lyra’s face burned when she blushed. The golden glow of her eyes still shone in the moonlight, no less warming or knee-wobbling as before, and her smile spoke of unsaid affection. “Good night, Bon Bon.”

They stood there, unmoving for many seconds longer before, with one last smile, Bon Bon pulled away and turned to the hotel. Her hooves moved slowly, all the better to hear the crunch of Lyra’s hooves disappearing into the night.

A wave of warmth washed over Bon Bon as she pushed the hotel door open, not that she noticed it very much. A different kind of warmth filled her chest, burning away every bit of cold and numbness from her nose to the tips of her hooves. She barely heard the bell chiming overhead as she swung the door shut, instead focusing on committing to memory the sensation of Lyra’s lips on her cheek, Lyra’s lips against hers, Lyra’s breath on her ear, and Lyra’s coat pressed against her own.

Bon Bon chuckled as she trotted up to the front desk and rang the little silver bell. She might have a warm bed tonight, but she had long since come in from the cold.

Who knew the life of Bon Bon, candy maker, and soon-to-be-Ponyvillian, would be one of romance?

Author's Note

-> Home at Christmas: -20 C (-4 F).

-> Flee to the southeastern United States for New Years, ready to escape the cold.

-> Winter Storm Grayson hits, freezing Niagra Falls, plummeting temperatures across the east coast, and making it snow in North Carolina.

-> Crawl back home where it's warmed up to above freezing.

-> Temperature plummets back to -20 C within a day.

IF I CAN'T BE WARM THEN BON BON WILL BE WARM GDI!

I hope you all enjoyed the story and got some warmth out of it if you're constantly freezing like I am. If not, follow the moral of the story and drink lots of cocoa. And maybe invest in a heating blanket.