The house was merry and full of cheer, the smell of fresh baked goods wafted through the rooms and there was hardly a frown to be found. It was Hearth's Warming Eve, the most magical night of the year!
A time for family, for love, and for spending time together.
The Pies weren’t rich, but they lived modestly and within their means. They had their traditions of finding presents, eating rock soup, and making their rock dolls for the fireplace.
They still had those traditions, but now there were others mixed in, from their maybe-cousins the Apples. With their spiced cider, soft dolls, and gaily wrapped presents, it set the scene for a textbook Hearth's Warming.
Marble sighed and curled up tighter under her bed. That first Hearth's Warming had been, well, a disaster, but the year after that was much better. They found and shared what they each loved about the holiday and it had been perfect. But this year… This year was the worst. The absolute, no questions asked, worst ever Hearth's Warming since Granny Pie passed.
Of course, everyone else in the family was having fun, but Marble couldn’t muster any kind of smile. Large tears silently rolled down her cheeks as the barest sniffle sounded.
This year, like the past years, Big Mac had come.
And this year, he brought his marefriend.
Oh how stupid she had looked, prancing out excitedly as soon as she heard the jingle of their bell-covered wagon tack. She had taken the time to brush out her mane and fur to a fine sheen, she even splurged on a lovely purple bow for her mane!
He saw her and smiled and it felt like her heart would burst. He nodded at her and then turned to the wagon, holding out his hoof for another mare. The mare stumbled on the ice and fell into him and they laughed.
She had tried her best to keep hope, maybe the mare was another cousin after all; even if they looked a bit too comfortable to be cousins…
It wasn’t until they were inside, when Big Mac nudged the pink mare and, with a shy smile, nodded at the mistletoe hanging in the corner. The mistletoe she had picked out specifically for him.
Marble grit her teeth so much it hurt, but it did nothing to ease the pain in her heart. She watched them as they went over and kissed under it as Marble’s heart shattered.
She ran up to her room, tore off that stupid purple ribbon, and crawled under her bed. She wasn’t sure how long she had been there, it could have been minutes or it could have been hours.
It didn’t really matter to her, nothing mattered to her now.
She wiped her eyes and sullenly looked around, eyes catching on her saddlebags, haphazardly tossed into the corner from a week ago when she made a secret trip to Ponyville.
She sniffled and crawled towards it, reaching a hoof out and snagging the strap before dragging it under with her. Inside was a small book, more of a pamphlet than anything, on perfume making and, sealed in a sturdy jar, was a flower. It looked as fresh and vibrant as when she picked it. With delicate yellow stamens, dark pink petals, and smaller, heart shaped leaves, it was the perfect sample of Heart’s Desire.
Heart’s Desire, when distilled and mixed with other flowers to create a perfume, helped to ‘open the mind and heart of all who smelled it’. It wasn’t exactly a love potion per say - nor was it a love poison like the pamphlet cautioned against - it simply helped push past barriers so ponies may find love. It was even endorsed by Princess Cadance herself.
She had made perfume with it, hoping it might help entice Big Mac. She was going to greet him when he got here, maybe sit with him in front of the fire sharing a cup of cider and, when the moment was right, she was going to excuse herself and put on her best dress and the perfume.
But now…
Her breath hitched and she furiously wiped away the new tears that filled her eyes. Anger bloomed in her chest, red hot and burning away the now dead flowers of unrequited love. She pulled the Heart’s Desire out and opened the jar.
The flower had many beneficial uses, but only when distilled or combined in some way. If eaten raw, however, there were a myriad of side effects. From the epidemic Cutie Pox, to heart attacks and extreme hallucinations which led to long asylum stays; no one who had eaten the flower had a good time.
Marble pondered this for a moment. She still had family to think of, her mom and dad and sisters as well as most of the Apples…
But they were all enjoying themselves right now; she doubted anyone had even noticed her absence. Even Pinkie Pie hadn’t been up to look for her yet.
She set the flower aside and glanced over the ‘warning’ section of the little perfume making pamphlet again, and noted that while most of the side effects from raw consumption were bad, none of them seemed lethal. She was a young pony, healthy, so even if she had a heart attack she would most likely survive with little to no future consequences.
There was a tiny voice inside her, some little rationale that tried to tell her she shouldn’t be upset, that she should be happy for Big Mac. After all, it whispered, You may be related. You should enjoy the familial bonds you can have with him.
She gripped her mane in her hooves and buried the voice. It didn’t matter because even if they had some, tiny little blood relation, it was many decades back, and if you looked back far enough, all ponies were related so it wouldn’t even be a big deal.
That was her logic anyways, but it wasn’t the most important part of the argument to herself.
She was heartbroken. He was the first stallion to ever look at her and he was the first to make her feel hope for love.
Marble grasped the flower once again and gently caressed a hoof against the large petals.
Long had she hoped for a love like in the romance novel she indulged in at the library on her rare day off. The kind where it was love at first sight, where a stallion would confidently walk over and sweep her off her hooves.
It would be a whirlwind romance, with nary a month together before he passionately asked for her hoof in marriage, at sunset, with a bouquet of crocuses. Of course he would have asked her parents for permission first but…
The daydream shattered as she saw Big Mac and that mare under the mistletoe again. That was her only chance for love, and now it was gone.
Her chance was taken by the only stallion who could have given it to her.
The anger from earlier flooded through her body again and, with a muted cry of rage, she tore off the small heart shaped leaves.
Marble scrunched her face as she chewed on the flower. It was surprisingly bitter and with a gummy texture that made it feel like caramel. With much effort, she was able to swallow the mushy, sticky mess in her mouth.
She looked down at her hooves and strained to feel something, anything. She sighed. Of course it wouldn’t do any-
She blinked and suddenly, the world was a beautiful place.
She let out a short laugh and then began giggling hysterically. Everything was just so wonderful now! The floor under her bed was the softest cushion ever and she pressed herself onto it as much as she could, craving the feeling. Colors were brighter, what would normally be considered a dull brown wood of the most practically dull variety was stunning.
It was the smooth color of honey and, oooh, honey sounded amazing right now.
So soft and sweet and sticky, with all the adorable little bees going buzz buzz buzz.
Bees were sweet and they flew among the flowers, flowers that held lots of yummy pollen.
Flowers that could be crushed, their juices squeezed out to make perfumes and drinks, petals cruelly torn and shredded and-
The world was a terrible place.
Marble gasped as a cold hand of terror gripped her heart and she curled up into the tightest fetal position she could. The floor was hard and cold, the harsh reality of her world.
Her bed above her was sinking, coming closer and too close! She couldn’t breathe! Why couldn’t she breathe? Where was the air?
Air, air that pegasi flew through. With cute little birdies who sang their sweet little songs before descending to the ground and plucking helpless worms and bugs from the ground and crunching them in their savage beaks.
Marble fell through the floor and now was in pitch blackness. Color exploded around her and then faded out. She was surrounded by the fluffiest clouds and the harshest thorns.
She was cradled in light and torn apart by the dark, over and over her world shifted from beautiful to terrifying to wonderful and terrible.
A loud thump thudded in her ears, her heart? Or was it the world? Could they be hoofsteps?
Something screamed her name.
What was her name?
All I wanted was love.
~~
The world was dark and cold, but it was not quiet. There were noises all around, familiar and foreign noises.
Should the creature be scared, or should they be comforted?
The creature wasn’t sure.
There was a soft crying noise and the creature’s heart broke at the sound of it. Did they make someone sad? That wasn’t good, why were there sad sounds?
The creature tried to open their mouth, but there was something keeping them from moving. It was then they became aware of the strange sensation of air being systematically pumped in and out, in and out in a cycle.
“Marble?”
That voice, it sounded sad, but hopeful. What was a ‘marble’ though?
“Marble? If you can hear me, please come back. We all miss you."
Was ‘Marble’ this creature?
The words seemed directed at it, so maybe they were.
Marble.
What a strange name, but maybe they are a strange creature?
There were the sounds of something heavy thudding on the floor, rhythmic enough to be recognized as foo- no, hoof steps.
Was ‘Marble’ a thing with hooves?
There was a strange heaviness in the ‘Marble’ chest, something lurking, wanting to come out but not having the strength to.
“Marble, we beg of thee, come back.”
This voice sounded the saddest of all and from the heaviness in the Marble chest came a single word.
Mother.
