Carol of the Belle
Prologue
Snow.
Fragile flakes of frozen water fell from the flat gray clouds of the winter sky. The substance blanketed Equestria’s northern half, smothering all noise from the world. The chill of this wintry gift permeated Nature, driving many animals into hibernation and sending the birds down southward, past places like Las Pegasus.
Ponies took cover from this white, cold insulator, retreating into their shops and homes to feel the warmth of their glowing fireplaces. They would bask in the waves of light and heat that radiated from the flames. Whenever they’d have to go outside, they would bundle themselves up in hats, scarves, and other assorted pieces of winter wear. Unicorns and Earth-Ponies were the most common faces that one would see out on the streets, as Pegasi would normally fly above the icy cold world below.
Sweet shops were common destinations for many of these ponies, looking for hot drinks and pastries. These establishments boomed with business this time of year, continually brewing hot cocoa and selling freshly baked treats like gingerbread and cinnamon-rolls to bright-eyed faces looking for warm flavors to blanket their taste buds. Little foals would race into these buildings after snowball fights or sled races, looking at the sweets behind glass counters while gesturing eagerly to the ones that they wanted. It was in one of these shops that Sweetie Belle was waiting.
The marshmallow mare swirled the mug of cocoa in her telekinetic grip as she reread some lyrics scrawled on a notepad sitting in front of her nose on the table. She had been sitting there for quite some time now, as she was on her fifth mug of the rich, dark drink. The world outside had been dark for several hours, and snow had fallen from the frozen heavens all day. They were but little fuzzy dots of white in a dark blue expanse of space.
Sweetie slackened her magical grip on her mug and set it down on the table with a quiet clink. The drink was only half empty.
She looked around the café, noting that there was only about three hoofful of ponies there aside from herself. Many of them sat in small groups, chatting and laughing at little jokes and events in their lives. The shop owner, a cheerful cinnamon-colored mare named Ginger Sap, stood behind the counter idly talking with a scarfed-up customer. Sweetie sighed and raised her drink to take another sip.
A small bell chimed as the door to the shop opened, accompanied by a gust of snow-laced chilly air. Sweetie looked up to see two mares canter in, one orange and violet, the other a shade of pale yellow and red. They were clad in scarves and hats, along with a glittering crust of snow that had taken a liking to them. The duo shook off this chilly frost in the entryway, removed their winter caps, and cast their searching eyes about the shop.
Apple Bloom spotted Sweetie Belle first, and nudged her winged companion in the direction of their friend. They trotted over to the window-side table, and slid into the booth. “Sorry I’m late, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom began, “Hot Air had me stay in tha shop late. An airship from tha’ North arrived this mornin’ and boy it sure was a wreck! It looked as though a manticore was set loose in tha engine room!” She threw her hooves in the air as an emphasis. Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow, and asked, “What happened to it?” “Tha main engineer was incompetent, that’s what.” The trio burst into a fit of giggling. This sound further increased when Scootaloo said, “I bet that the engineer really was a manticore.”
After several minutes of laughing some more, Apple Bloom chuckled, “We really need to get together like this more often, girls.” The orange mare pointed a hoof at Sweetie Belle, and said, “Yeah, little-miss-famous. We rarely get chances to meet up like this anymore!” Sweetie spluttered, nearly spitting out her cocoa that she had just begun drinking again. “Are you kidding me? I’m not that famous! I have my freedom, how else do you think I have time to sit here waiting for you two for several hours?” Scootaloo paused, but Sweetie continued, saying, “Apple Bloom has a very busy job, so I’d like to hear your reason for being late.” The Pegasus shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um… I was maybe spying on the Wonderbolts…” Apple Bloom face-hoofed. “Are ya’ kiddin’ me? ‘Spying’ is an understatement! I had to pry ya out from behind that lamppost in order to get ya here! You’re just flat-out stalking them!” Scootaloo bristled at that. “I’m not stalking them! I’m just seeing what they do in their everyday lives to be so fast! I’m a racing mare, remember?” The Unicorn of the trio sighed, setting her drink down. “Scoots, stalking the Wonderbolts is not the way to be fast! I suggest that you go ask Gearhead -“ Scootaloo shoved her hoof into Sweetie’s mouth. “Shhh! I’m not going to meet with him! Following the Wonderbolts is working just fine!”
The apple pony laughed at Scootaloo’s reaction that name. “Ah, Scoots, we all know ya have feelings for that automaton. There’s no need to hide it,” she chuckled. The Pegasus mare turned a bright shade of reddish orange, somewhere between a brick an almost-ripe tomato. “Are you saying that you think I like a talking hunk of metal?” Both of her friends answered at once with a resounding “Yes.” The orange spitfire of a Pegasus jumped out of the booth, bristling at the two ponies occupying it. “That’s stupid! I fly solo, and that’s the way I like it!” Sweetie Belle leaned towards her embarrassed friend, and said, “Oh come on Scoots. I’ve talked with him quite a bit, and he’s just like any other stallion out there!” “And he’s quite literally an ‘iron-pony’ too,” Apple Bloom added. “Yeah, that too!”
Scootaloo scratched the back of her head, looking less embarrassed. “Yeah, but he’s not alive, guys. What is he gets broken? He can’t heal himself, he’s only a robot!” Sweetie Belle patted the seat next to her. “Sit down. Fix told me the whole story between himself and Gear, and I think that you could learn a little more about that ‘hunk of metal’,” she warmly stated. The orange mare stood for a moment thinking, and sat down next to Sweetie. “Well, it seems as though there’s more to this steam-pony than meets the eye,” she admitted.
Sweetie began, “Well, we all know that Fix built Gearhead back when we were all just foals back in Ponyville. He was visiting his uncle-“ Scootaloo dragged a hoof over her face. “Ugh, if I knew that you were going to tell the whole story I would’ve kept my mouth shut. I just wanna know the cold, hard facts about your coltfriend’s invention!” Apple Bloom smirked, snorting a little in laughter. “That’s the mind of a racing mare at work there,” she said, “always trimming down the unnecessary things until all that’s left is a streamlined figure.” The Pegasus bumped one of her fore hooves against her chest and said with a grin, “Efficient and proud of it!”
The trio of friends chuckled at this, and Sweetie Belle cleared her throat. “Ahem, well, Fix said that Gearhead is mainly made of a metal light enough to fly.” Scootaloo smacked her head into the table, and mumbled from the side of her mouth, “You don’t say?” The Earth-Pony of the group shushed the complaining mare. “Quiet now. You wanted to hear, so stop whining.” Scoots lifted her face from the polished marble platform with a bored look smeared across her features. “Oh, alright,” she droned. Sweetie continued, “I think that Fix said he made a lot of Gearhead’s inner workings out of electrostone, to kind of mimic our nervous-system. But from what he said, Gearhead gained sentience by accident. Kind of a miracle, if you ask me.” Apple Bloom nodded in agreement. “I tried makin’ a steam-pony like Fix once, but I couldn’t ever get it quite right. It didn’t do anything whatsoever, an’ I spent nearly an entire year’s pay on it!” she exclaimed. Sweetie Belle pointed at her and stated, “Well, you were trying to replicate a unique individual. You just can’t do that.” Apple Bloom replied, “Well, we’re all basically tha same stuff, just tweaked a little each time. I can’t see why not ta’ make another metal pony like Gearhead.” This little conversation continued a while longer, but ended when Scootaloo stood and said that she was going to order herself a drink.
“So do ya really think that Scoots and Gear would pair up?” Apple Bloom whispered to her marshmallow friend. “I think that it’s possible, and Scoots could use somepony to be there for her,” Sweetie said, “Especially if that somepony is as durable as Gearhead. She does get kind of violent at times” They both burst into a laughing fit at that. “Moreover, I don’t think that Scoots is the kind of mare who wants to have foals, and, well, Fix is only a steam-pony…” Sweetie trailed off. Her friend nodded in agreement.
Several minutes of idle chatter passed, and the orange Pegasus mare returned with three mugs of cocoa balanced on her outstretched wings. “Are one of those for me?” Apple Bloom inquired, to which Scoots replied dryly, “No, I bought all of these for myself so I lose my streamlined figure.” To that, she tilted her wings and slid the steaming drinks onto the table in a stylish manner without a drop spilt.
Apple Bloom grabbed her mug and turned to Sweetie Belle again. “So how’s Fix and you been? He didn’t show up to the crew today,” she asked. Sweetie Belle swirled her mug and began, “He’s sick, a bit of a nasty cold. I had to force him to stay home, though.” Apple Bloom chuckled, “Well, he does love workin’ on the machines.” “Hold on,” Scootaloo interjected, “I thought that his talent was both mechanics and healing. Why doesn’t he just brew something up to fix his illness?” “Ha ha, very funny Scoots,” the marshmallow mare answered. “Anyways, he’s slept nearly all day, so I hope he’s recovered by Sunday,” Sweetie said. Apple Bloom nodded. “Yeah, as Hearth’s Warming is only five days from now, it’d be perfect timing,” the yellow mare commented.
“Speaking of Hearth’s Warming, aren’t you performing at the celebration?” Scoots asked Sweetie. The marshmallow mare nodded, and sipped her still steaming cocoa. “Yeah, the organizers for the celebration approached me and asked if I would sing at the ceremonies.” Scoots stirred. “Are they paying you?” she asked. Sweetie replied, “They did offer to pay me, but I turned it down. I’m just happy that they asked me to sing there!” “Sweetie Belle, you are just like your sister.” “Well I was raised by her for several years. What do you expect?”
An idea popped into the white Unicorn’s head. She slid her writing pad over the table so that way both of her friends could see it. “What do you think? I’m writing it for the celebration,” Sweetie said. After several seconds of scanning Sweetie’s slanted hoofwriting, Apple Bloom replied, “Sweetie, I’m constantly amazed by your music, but this one tops all of yer songs yet!” “Meh, it’s kinda sappy to me,” Scootaloo said, “But I guess it’s pretty well-written. Has anypony heard it yet?” Sweetie levitated the notepad back over to herself, and placed it in her saddlebags while removing a lavender scarf and hat. “Well, I sang it a little for Fix yesterday because he wouldn’t stop poking me until I did, so he is the only one so far,” she said as she donned the winter clothing. “Anyways, speaking of Fix, I’ve gotta get home to him. Sorry I have to go so soon, but I’ve been away for way too long,” the marshmallow mare apologized. Apple Bloom replied saying, “No, no it’s fine Sweetie. We understand completely, havin’ somepony you care about ill’n all.” “Yeah, your special somepony needs you.” The racing mare added. Sweetie smiled, and slid out of the booth. “Will I see you two at the Hearth’s Warming Eve Celebration?” she asked as she stood to all four hooves and stretched the hours of sitting from her slim frame. “You bet yer bottom bit on it!” and “No way I’d miss a Hearth’s Warming concert of the Sweetie Belle!” were the answers she received.
As she trotted to the door and pushed her way outside, Sweetie Belle felt a shiver run down her spine and shrugged it off. It really is pretty cold outside, she thought. What she didn’t realize was that chill wasn’t from the cold. It was from the set of venomous yellow eyes that had watched her the entire evening.