A Hearth's Warming Story

by GreyCapstan

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Crossover, Comedy
Length: 1362

Peace, Love, Harmony and Friendship... Nah.

The introduction of the tradition of giving gifts to the Hearth's Warming Celebration had rosy-faced foals huddled together earmuff-to-earmuff at the store windows, envisioning themselves with the great things they would love to have. For some, it was the newest toy, or the biggest book, or the fanciest bow-and-arrow. For me, it was something even more special. My true heart's desire.

It was going to be a long week.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-28 09:41:49 UTC

1 | The Beat Goes Off

By GreyCapstan

Chapter 1:The BeatGoes Off

Ah, there it is. Sweet Apple Acres. I’ll never forget it. Those quaint buildings, our Clubhouse,  all nestled within that endless spanse of trees that rolled on forever; towards the Sun, surely.

And there I am, being strangled by that dumb scarf Rarity thought matched my eyes. She wouldn’t let me dare catch a cold, but every time  she looked over to make sure I wasn’t loosening it again, I was probably wishing a few for her.

Sweetie Belle looked up as she and Rarity passed beneath the wooden arch that would normally welcome ponies to the farm. During the Winter, it served more as a looming trap, a pile of snow that could ruin your hour at any moment. She choked a sigh of relief as they moved safely beneath.

        Rarity looked over at Sweetie Belle as they reached the door of the farmhouse, smiling innocently. “Now, Sweetie, we must be on our best behavior. We are their guests, after all.”

        “Hhve bnn hrrr bffrrr...” Hoping that the welcome mat meant illness immunity, Sweetie Belle brought a hoof up and shook off her wool attacker, taking a deep breath at last. “I’ve been here tons of times, sis. I’m always nice to them.”

        Rarity turned a blind eye towards let the crime against fashion and health. “I know, dear, but the holiday season is meant to be a time for kindness and togetherness. I want you to be extra nice to them, okay?”

        “Sure.” She looked over at the left-front window and spotted an orange pony, standing near the window, smiling. It was Applejack, and standing next to her was the holly-red Big McIntosh, smiling as well.

Now, my sister always had to do everything by proper protocol. Every social interaction was like contract work to her. Miss a single detail and it was all over.

Sweetie looked back at Rarity, who had her foreleg curled upwards.

        “You don’t have to knock, sis. They know we’re here.”

        “Nonsense, Sweetie. You are always supposed to knock when before you enter a house.”

        “But you don’t need to! They can see us! They’ve probably unlocked the door for us already!”

        “That’s not the point. The point is that you are showing them a sense of respect for their privacy and property.”

        The foal pointed harshly at the window. “They’re right there!”

        Ignoring the rebuttal, the pale grey hoof lightly tapped against the door three times.

        “Door’s unlocked!” Applejack called out from the window.

        Rarity look over at her through the glass. “Thank you!” She opened the door, wiped her hooves on the mat and gingerly stepped inside.

        “Good afternoon, Applejack!” Rarity’s light-blue aura unwound her pink paisley wrap from around her neck, carefully winding it around one of the hooks of the coat-rack. “So glad we could stop by!”

        “Well, y’all are welcome here anytime, y’know. It’s not an exclusive club ‘round here.” Applejack spoke without cynicism. She continued to smile as she brought her leg down, having brought it up too slowly to help Rarity with her scarf.

        Sweetie Belle trudged in, tossing her attempted murder at the base of the rack before looking up at the Apples. “Is Apple Bloom upstairs?”

        Big McIntosh nodded. “Yup. And Babs.”

        She gasped. “Babs? Really?” A light squee could be heard as she beamed.

        “She’s visiting for the holidays,” Applejack added, closing the door. “It’s sort of a trade. Granny Smith is over in Manehatten right now, probably yellin’ at the parking meters. She’s never been to a big city before.”

        Without seeking permission (and knowing that she didn’t have to from Applejack and Big Mac), she ran up the stairs, leaving crispy morsels of snow with each step and dodging Rarity’s glaring eyes.

        She galloped down the hall and cornered into Apple Bloom’s green-walled bedroom. The two foals inside, who were stretched out on the rug, looked up from their hooves of cards and abandoned their jack-high pairs of twos, leaping up at the sight of Sweetie.

        Sweetie Belle ran over to the tawny visitor, her eyes two giant reservoirs of green and black, a crescent of teeth gleaming. “Babs!”

        “Sweets!” Babs Seed smiled and held her forelegs up to receive the inevitable hug.

Had it been any other foal, my hug would have been more like a hoofball tackle during a championship game. But Babs was tough. You had to be when you lived in the big city.

        “I can’t believe you’re here!” Sweetie Belle squeezed the Manehattenite as tight as her scarf. “Are you gonna be here until Hearth’s Warming?”

“Sure am!” Babs matched the concatenation, blowing a loose truss of mane from her face. “School’s out ‘til next year! I’m finally gonna get to spend some real time with you guys!”

Apple Bloom chimed in. “Babs says she’s already got two ponies in her Crusaders group!”

Sweetie pulled away from the hug enthusiastically. “Wow! Any success stories?”

Babs pulled her head back a little. “Well, uh, no... But, we did learn that none of us are any good at catering, hockey or parkour.”

The unicorn nodded. “We tried parkour, too. Scootaloo found out that those buildings aren’t as close together as they look.” She turned over to Apple Bloom. “Hey, where is she?”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Hay if ah know. She said she’d be here by now.”

“Well, I’ll have to tell her later, because this can’t wait!” Sweetie slipped the white saddlebag off of her back and onto the floor, undoing the buckle with a quick swipe of her hoof.

“What is it?” asked Apple Bloom.

Sweetie dug into the bag and pulled out a rolled bundle of glossy paper, unfurling it and tossing over towards Bloom and Babs. “Say hello to my future Hearth’s Warming present!”

That ad has since become a permanent fixture in my brain. Sometimes, I’ll close my eyes and I’ll be looking right at it, with the same angle and lighting like I had first seen it, walking from the mailbox. I saw my friends in a state of metamorphosis, becoming enlightened like I had at the ethereal depiction. It was every kid’s fantasy, printed in ink! And they were staring at it, slack-jawed.

“Whoa...”

Apple Bloom was starry-eyed. “Drums!”

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “Not just any drums! You’re looking at the Mudwig MD-1200 rock-model drum set, with optional double kick pedals and ribbon crashers!”

After a few seconds, Apple Bloom was finally able to tear herself away from the spectacle. “Your parents are gonna buy you those? How d’you know?”

“Well, once I drop the hint and lay on the charm, they won’t have any choice but to buy them! I mean, this is the first Warming that everypony’s giving each other gifts, right? They’re probably gonna want to get me something huge!”

Babs Seed was also eventually able to escape the gaze of the tom-toms. “Charm? Like how?”

“Oh, my sister does it all the time whenever she’s wants something from somepony. She’ll talk all sweetly and rub her head against theirs and stuff. It must be a psychological thing. Does your sister do that, Apple Bloom?”

Apple Bloom grimaced at the thought. As she opened her mouth to answer, a voice downstairs intercepted the silence.

“Sweetie? We must be going now!”

Sweetie called out from the door. “Aww, already? Can’t I stay here for a while?”

“Absolutely not! I’m not letting you walk home alone in the cold! It’s all the way on the other side of town! Now get your things!”

She sighed. “Alright. I’ll be right down.” She scooped up the magazine and rolled it back up, stuffing it in her bag. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

“See ya!”

“Bye!”

As I walked down the hallway, I could hear that familiar rhumba groove of my hooves clopping against the floorboards. It was my happy rhythm. I knew that my ultimate plan for percussive procurement was underway. I was going to get a Mudwig MD-1200 rock-model drum set for Hearth’s Warming. All I needed to do now was to let my mom and my old man in on the fact.