OLD APD: Harsh Warming Eve (oneshit)(Did I never post this?)

>With a little flourish, you add the last bit of holly to you mantle, and stand back to admire your hard work. Having a fireplace in your room is just one of the perks of living in a castle, and even if these Godless ponies don't celebrate Christmas, you're going to do your chimney up right. You've hung a red stocking with care, after practically begging Rarity to make it for you, you've put holly branches across the mantle and by every window. You've cut down a tiny tree, ignoring Fluttershy's screams of horror, and set it up in one corner of your room, then decorated it with clothespins you've painted to look like nutcrackers. In general, the place looks pretty damn Christmassy. And christ almighty born again this day do you love Christmas. Now, you're ready to kick back, relax, and enjoy your human holiday without-
>Twilight kicks open your door with a jingle of bells. You jump, and suppress a growl of frustration as a few of the bells tumble from the doorframe onto the floor. Princess Twilight glances down at them, scowls, then glances to your fireplace. She clicks her tongue in distaste, and shakes her head.
"Look, Anon," she says gruffly. "I know you like plants and stuff, but this place looks like a florist and a seamstress had angry sex and forgot to pick up afterwards."
"Gee, thanks."
"Anyway, not why I'm here," she continues, wandering over to the fireplace to scratch at the ashes with her hoof. "Have you seen Spike? All the fireplaces are out and I want him to be the one to light them for the holiday tonight."
"Holiday?" you say, brightening a little. Perhaps they celebrate Christmas after all.
"Yeah," she says tersely. "It's hearth's warming eve. And we need warm hearths."
>Okay, so not Christmas, but it's a start. Maybe you can convert these heathen ponies yet.
"Well, I can go find him for you if you like," you offer. "Help get everyone in the spirit, right."
"Yeah, okay I guess," she says with a shrug. "I should really talk to him first, lay down the law with him, but I suppose as long as it gets done."
>A thanks would have been nice, but you can let it go, as a secret gift to one of the world's worst roommates. You manage a smile for her sake, then slip past her down the hall in search of the little dragon.
>After checking his room, the kitchen, and a few closets where you've caught him masturbating before, you finally make your way to the Library. Sure enough, Spike is sitting on the top of a tall bookshelf. He is staring at the ceiling, looking pretty much half-awake, and he doesn't even seem to notice when you walk in the room. You wait a moment, but he doesn't look your way, so you clear your throat. Still nothing. You cough a little harder, and at last he glances down from is perch at you, looking deeply unimpressed.
"Oh, hey Anon."
>Alright, Christmas Spirit. Big smiles, kindness, good will, generosity, undying love of our lord and savior Jesus Christ. You've got this.
"Hi Spike, Happy Holidays!"
>He rolls his eyes and looks away from you again.
"Yeah sure, for you maybe."
>You choose to ignore his dismal tone, and maintain your cheery smile.
"So, Twilight is looking for you, something about-"
>He holds up a claw for you to stop.
"Let me guess. She wants me to light every fire in the castle for Hearth's Warming Eve, and to get it done by tonight. That about right?"
"Actually yeah, so if you could..."
>The tiny dragon is already shaking his head.
"Not gonna happen."
"But-"
"Look, I know how this goes. The assistant does everything, completely sacrifices themself for their master, but this is a holiday. This is a special holiday, and you know what? Not today. I'm not doing it today. Today I will watch out for me, and she can get someone else to give life and limb for her every whim. Today, I'm not her assistant, and that's what I'm sticking with."
>You fall silent. You know Spike is an idiot, but even he has to know that this won't end well.
"You realize she'll be really pissed."
"Yep."
"And she'll probably scream at you."
"Of course."
"She could even hit you with a sock full of batteries, you know she's done that before."
>To your great shock, Spike simply shrugs this off.
"I don't care. It's worth it to not do her bidding, just for today. Like I said, I'm sticking with it. Now, could you leave me a lone? I have some... stuff I want to think about."
>Ignoring the fact that you're sure he's going to go masturbate somewhere in the library, probably to anatomical medical drawings of dragons again, you turn and leave the room. Something about all this doesn't sit right with you. Spike is right, he does work really hard, and he does deserve a day off, especially on a Holiday. But you know Twilight , and she won't handle this well. She'll probably destroy the little guy. You're not exactly a fan of the little guy, but he doesn't deserve that treatment today. Maybe you could talk to her...
>The instant the idea crosses your mind, a shiver runs down your spine.
>No, nope. No way are you doing that. Twilight has magic, and the last time you tried to tell her she was wrong, she made you piss horsehair for a week. It might not sound that bad, but the dryness, oh god, you'll never forget the dryness or the fleas. Never again, you'll have to find another way.
>Well, you never did get him a gift, you realize. You weren't even going to get him one in the first place, considering you think of him as more of a plot device than a person, but maybe that's not fair. It's Christmas, and if you're going to show these Equestrians that it's the superior holiday, you should probably practice what you preach. With a satisfied nod, you set out in search of matches and newspaper to crumple up. You're going to make this Spike's best Christmas ever.

----

>Five hours later, you slump exhaustedly against the outside of the Library door, panting, sweaty and sooty, but finished. You hadn't realized that the castle had a whopping six hundred and sixty six fireplaces, at least counting the oven in the kitchen and the little heater in the grand bathroom. You've pretty much wasted your entire Christmas lighting fires, but it feels good to do something kind for the little dragon. Now you don't have to do anything nice for him for the rest of the year! You're about to open the door to tell him what you've done, when suddenly you hear a gentle cough behind you. You turn to find Twilight standing there, eyebrow raised.
"Hi Anon."
"Twilight," you say with a smile. "Happy holidays, how goes it?"
"Well, I just wanted to check," she says, ignoring your seasonal greeting. "to be sure that Spike lit all the fires in the castle like I wanted."
>You're about to tell her that it was you who did it, when it occurs to you that you really ought to give the little guy the credit. After all, the best kind of gifts don;t need gratitude, you just do them out of the goodness in your heart. You smile broadly as you think about what a good person you are.
"You know what?" you say, "He did. Every single one is lit, even the oven in the kitchen."
>Twilight blinks in surprise, and seems to cheer up a little.
"Wow, already? I have to say, I'm surprised. You must have really said something to make him get into the work to have it all done this quick. I thought he'd probably resist it, to be honest."
"Nope, I just had to ask. He's a pretty hard worker."
>She nods slowly.
"That's true enough. Well, I guess it's time for me to go see him then, let him know that he did well. It's about time for the holidays to begin, anyway"
"Oh good! You know, I was hoping that we could maybe roast chestnuts, sing some songs from holidays back in my lands..."
"Sure, sure, after the opening sacrifice."
"Oh, of course, after..."
>Your merriment falls silent on your lips, as your mind catches up with the conversation. Wait, sacrifice? Before you can ask for clarification, Twilight throws open the doors to the library and confidently strides inside. As you stand there in shock, you hear her yelling Spike's name, then hear a scream, a scuffle of books and falling shelves, and the scrape of wood under slaws and thrashing scales. As you watch, completely awestruck, Twilight marches past you, magically dragging the little dragon behind her. His claws make continuous little divots in the wood as they move past, the sound something like mouse bones snapping underfoot.
"But I didn't light the fires!" Spike screeches. "I didn't even touch the fireplaces!"
"Don't lie, you did a good job. You should be happy to be sacrificed to the holiday Windigos!"
"But I didn't do it, I would never!" Tears roll down his cheeks as he screams. "I don't want to be sacrificed, I don't volunteer, why would I light the fires!?"
"That's not what Anon says."
"He's lying then!"
>Twilight finally stops and turns to face you, holding Spike suspended in the air beside her. She looks at you, obviously exasperated, and then rolls her eyes.
"Look, I know he's just trying to get out of it, but he did light the fires, right?"
"Wh-what is going on," you stutter out, looking from the quietly weeping dragon to your psychotic roommate.
"Ah, right, you're bad at holiday stuff and worship some magical dude who died because he was a weak-ass bitch. So, every year we begin our holidays by sacrificing an assistant to the Windigos so they leave us alone for another year. Today was Spike's year, but he has to show he is ready by lighting all six hundred and sixty six fires in the castle before we sacrifice him by slicing his living heart out of his chest while he's splayed out on an altar of ice in the main parlor. Oh, and then we eat cake."
>Well, I guess this is what happens when you try to be nice to Spike.
>You blink, not fully understanding what you just heard. Twilight simply looks at you patiently, but your mouth works without anything coming out. There's nothing to say, no way to make sense of what is happening.
"I mean," Twilight says slowly, "You're an assistant too, so if you were lying and you did it instead... is there anything you want to tell me, Anon?"
>You hastily reach up and wipe a smear off ash off of your cheek.
"Nope! Spike sure did a good job, it's great that he volunteered!" you say brightly, trying to hide the trembling in your knees.
>Spike looks up at you with eyes filled with betrayal, lower lip dropping in horror. You try to mouth the words "I'm sorry," to him, but you're not sure he has time to see it before Twilight shrugs and again begins to drag him towards the main parlor. He instantly begins to wail again.
"You traitor! You son of a bitch!" Spike screeches. "You selfish evil asshole I'll kill you!"
"Hush Spike," Twilight says brightly. "Maybe he'll be lucky enough to be selected next year, and I'll be sure to kill him in your honor."
>You hear Spike begin to cry like a frightened child as the pair descend the steps, Twilight singing a festive Hearth's Warming tune. You watch them go with a heavy heart, and begin to accept, then and there, that you'll never convert any of these pagan ponies to the way of Christ.

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