"Skidder Carver, we do not tolerate physically harming, or threatening, other students in any way."

"Yes, Miss Cheerilee, Mam... it won't happen again." the navy blue colt drolly replies.

Cheerilee assumed her position behind her desk, and took a deep breath, "I would imagine so! Anyways, I had Featherweight contact your father... he should be here soon." Skidder's heart sunk in his chest upon the mention of Cutter being dragged from work to deal with an idiotic colt. He is not going to be happy.

Skidder is in a lot of trouble on this particular day. His little altercation with Diamond Tiara during recess had drawn much attention. She ran off crying with Silver Spoon, and Miss Cheerilee had happened to witness the entire spectacle. Skidder had unwittingly found himself in Princess Celestia's place, and he could not have been more sorry for it... but he could not deny that it had felt good at first. After the incident had occurred, Cheerilee sat him in the corner for the remainder of the day, deciding to deal with him after everypony had left.

A few dreary minutes passed, and knocking was finally heard at the schoolhouse's door. Cheerilee straightens up, and calls to the visitor, "Come in, please."

The door creaked open, and in walked a concerned Cutter, still wearing an orange vest that denoted a construction job. Featherweight silently fluttered behind him, apprehension in his wide eyes. He flied outside to give the father, son, and teacher privacy... before assuming a spot in front of the window to spy.

Cutter spotted Skidder avoiding his face, yet Cheerilee had met his eyes. Cutter approaches the teacher with a wide-eyed look at his son, "What happened, Miss Cheerilee? Did my son do something wrong...?"

Cheerilee nodded, "Please, take a seat, Mr. Carver."

Cutter obeys, and tentatively lowers himself into a desk next to Skidder. "What happened?"

"Your son was caught bullying his fellow classmate, Diamond Tiara, in recess today." Cheerilee reveals with a strangely placid expression, as if she were unsure how to proceed with such a situation. It would not be surprising if that were true, considering that Ponyville's schoolhouse is such a tame place. Then again, it is also surprising that nopony has not physically harmed or threatened this particular pink filly as of yet. Either way, the revelation was still quite a shock for Cutter.

Cutter's pupils dilated, and his mouth slowly opened to take a sharp breath, depicting his disbelief. He gaped at his son, "Is this true?"

Skidder looks away, "Yes, Dad."

Cutter closes his mouth, swallows, assumes a stern expression, and looks back at the waiting teacher, "What exactly happened?"

"From what Skidder told me," Cheerilee begins to explain, "Diamond Tiara had been mocking him... again... and that he simply lost control. Skidder knocked her onto the ground, and told her to never make fun of him again or he would, do something." Cutter slowly shook his head, and shot a tired glance at Skidder. "It also seems like he insulted her, to the point of tears, if I might add. Diamond Tiara may have had a bit of history with running her mouth as well, but physical threats are not so easily allowed."

Cutter slumps back into the desk, and rubs his temples with his fetlocks. "Skidder, I know I raised you better than this, and I know, that you know that. So..." Cutter removed his hooves from his face, and delivered a stern gaze towards the cringing son. "...what do you have to say for yourself?"

Skidder did not have to say anything. The tears rolling from his eyes and the whimpers told enough. He spoke after wiping his eyes, nonetheless. "I'm so sorry, D-D-Dad, Miss Cheerilee. I-I-I didn't know what I w-w-was doing! It just... happened. I'm really sorry, I didn't want to h-hurt her!" Then the dam broke, the hair-line fissures spontaneously burst, eliciting a hacking, sobbing flood from the sorrowful colt. Skidder buried his face into his Father's comforting shoulder. Cutter's face barely showed sign of softening as he stroked his son's mane in an attempt to soothe him.

Cheerilee closed her eyes, waiting for the crying to disperese. After a minute or two of thinking, she opened them. "Now... there is the matter of punishment. Skidder had used aggressive, harmful behavior, but since he did not really harm Diamond Tiara, he will be suspended from school tomorrow. Is that understood?"

Cutter nods his head once, and gets up from the desk. Skidder sniffles, and follows suit. "Yes, Mam. I am sorry for Skidder's behavior... and he obviously is too. Have a good afternoon, Miss Cheerilee."

Skidder weakly waves a hoof, "Bye, Miss Cheerilee. I'm sorry...

Cheerilee smiles back and rises to all four hooves, "Thank you, Mr. Carver, and you are forgiven Skidder. Just makes sure you properly apologize to Diamond Tiara." Cheerilee leads the two to the door and opens it for them, letting in the cool blast of winter air. She suddenly straightens up, remembering something. "Oh! Although it's not until tomorrow, Happy Hearth's Warming Eve to the both of you!"

The two immediately sieze in the doorway, similar to the way one would respond if an old, sensitive wound was poked or prodded. Cutter quickly amended this with an, "Mhm, sure." before sharply trotting off through the lightly whipping snow with his son.

Just as Cutter and Skidder passed the frost-covered school fence, a deep voice halted them in their tracks. "Wait! Are you Skidder's father?"

Cutter peered at the voice's owner bound in a luxurious earth-brown snow vest. A light-brown earth pony stallion with a slicked-back dark-brown mane. A pony by the name of Filthy Rich, also known as, Diamond Tiara's father.

Cutter approached the stallion and addressed him respectfully. It tended to be a good idea to address your employer with dignity, he even made sure to use the stallion's preferred name. "Yes, Mr. Rich, I am."

Filthy Rich briefly regarded the apprehensive Skidder, but turned his attention back to Cutter. "Then we need to talk of the matter that transpired between our children. Namely, how to address the repercussions."

Cutter's face showed fleeting dread, but quickly hid it with a grimace. "Yes, sir, I believe that would be most necessary."

"I suppose you have a punishment in mind? I know I plan on one." Skidder felt a sinking feeling in his gut upon overhearing this. His father's job could be gone, all because of him.

Cutter's ears perked up, and an imperceptible look passed over his eyes. "Actually, I do. It's what my father used to do whenever I was in a... similar situation."

Cutter glances at Skidder, before leaning into Filthy Rich's ear to whisper some diabolical plan regarding Skidder's consequences. Filthy Rich nods and smiles after Cutter finishes his explanation. He holds out a hoof to shake, "Very good! That'll do perfectly, Mr. Carver! And once again, I am sorry for my daughter's behavior, I already told her to watch that lip of hers numerous times."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Rich, Skidder knows better than to push or threaten a filly." Cutter returned the hoofshake with vigor, waved, and briskly trotted back towards the snow-covered road that led home. "Come along, Skidder!"

Skidder scrambled to keep pace with his father. Once he reached Cutter, Skidder raised an eyebrow, "So... what happened, Dad?"

"Wash up once we get home," Cutter cryptically replied while keeping his light pace. "we'll be having dinner at Filthy Rich's at six."

"So... you're having dinner with Diamond Tiara's family?" Featherweight asked the prepped Skidder with the slightest bit of nervousness as he hovered over his bed.

Skidder straightened the little crimson tie his dad forced him to wear, making sure it was in line with the white collar. "Yup."

"After you threatened her the very same day..."

Skidder cringed, "Yup."

"I'm not exactly finding the trail of logic here."

"I don't think there is one, Feather."

"Are you done in there?" Cutter called from the ground floor, "We gotta get going soon!"

Skidder galloped down the stairs, followed by Featherweight. He showed himself off to his father who was waiting in a black coat and navy blue tie. Although the only thing Skidder really had to show off was a white collar and tie attachment.

Cutter groaned, "Couldn't you have at least brushed your mane and tail? It looks like a tangled bird's nest!"

Skidder shrugged, "I tried. And look at yours!"

Cutter glanced upwards to see that his carefully brushed mane had returned to a very similar state. Cutter grunted, "Buck it, let's go."

The three walked out the open front door, ready to enjoy a dinner with the Rich's. Featherweight flitted before them, "I gotta get home anyways, good luck with your... punishment? Bye!" and then he buzzed off.

Skidder looks to his father, following the same train of thought his best friend had, "Dad, how exactly is this going to punish me. I'm not saying that it isn't bad to eat an expensive dinner with your capitalist boss for my punishment... it's fine, it's fine... I just don't see the effectiveness of this... so, no manual labor or pain?"

Cutter laughed loudly to his confused son, "Oh, son... the awkwardness will be enough to kill."

"Wut?"

Since Cutter's house was one of the cheapest and least extravagant, it only made sense that his boss, the richest pony in town, had the most expensive and most frivolous. That logic had not failed upon reaching the home of Filthy Rich, who possessed one of the only mansions in Ponyville. Ginormous heights, red bricked columns, and classical architecture were the key features to the abode.

They were immediately greeted upon entering by a handful of butlers and maids. Filthy Rich had waved them all aside, and welcomed the two visitors himself. Behind him stood a frilly-pink-dressed Diamond Tiara that did her best to avoid existing at that particular point in space and time. It was at that moment, where Skidder truly understood the ultimate weapon named Awkwardness, as he felt it ravage any shred of confidence he had before.

It seemed that Filthy Rich understood it as well, judging from the fact that he urged the two foals to, go play nice while the grownups talk about business. The first thought that fired through Skidder's head upon learning he could not avoid the situation was something along the lines of, "Damn you. Damn you all and your fascist regimes."

Diamond Tiara and Skidder were now left alone at the bottom of the staircase, awkwardness freezing them stock-still. The pink filly cleared her throat in an attempt to cut the atmosphere, "So... um, I guess I'll, like, show you my room... or something."

Skidder stolidly replied, "Uh huh." but realized that his father probably would not be too happy if he did not attempt to make any conversation work. "I..!.. uh... bet your room must be huge, I mean, just look at your house. Very, ehm, big..?"

The possible compliment seemed to direct the dialogue towards a better course, judging from the mounds of confidence that placed itself upon the filly from hearing it. Diamond Tiara led Skidder up the staircase with her nose stuck high into the air, "Yes, of course! My room is reaally big, probably bigger and better than any room you'll ever have."

Skidder, however, was focused on something else, "You sure it's a good idea to walk with your head and nose up like that? That doesn't look like an easy way of seeing where you're—"

WHUMP!

As Skidder predicted, she overshot the last step, and fell flat onto her face.

Skidder tutted disapprovingly, "See what you did there? That's why you should look where your hooves are going. And to answer your previous statement, yes, it probably is bigger and better than any room I'll ever have. I'm poor, born poor, probably will stay poor, can't help it right now."

Diamond Tiara blushed in shame at her blunder, but was happy enough that Skidder did not laugh. Although Skidder's answer made her feel a pang of something she felt a long time ago for regarding the low class as she did... guilt... is what it was, she believes.

She traversed the vast, tastefully carpeted hallway lit by crystalline chandeliers with the awed Skidder in tow, and reached a gigantic set of maple double doors emblazoned with her tiara cutie mark. Before Diamond Tiara opened it, she decided to ask a question that she felt no need to ask in a long time. A question regarding empathy. "So... what is it like, being poor?"

Skidder grimaced at the odd question, "I was sorta calling it 'poor' ironically, I don't like to call my life that, because it makes it sound really bad. What it's like...? Uh... it's more like instead of worrying which fancy, rocket-powered-107-speed-bike to get next, you have to worry about whether you can even get a bike in the first place. That analogy sucked, but it works, I guess. I don't know that much anyways, my dad is the one who does all the taxes and political junk. I hear jury duty is blegh, so I'm probably not gonna get involved. I still support this country's democracy, of course."

The pampered filly blinked widely, in mild understanding. Although she seemed to take no notice of his political comments. "Doesn't that... suck?"

Skidder grunts, "Not really. I still eat, I still have a home, I'm still alive. And that's more than enough. That's what my dad always told me when I was an itty-bitty foal. Only real difference between you and me is that you have more expensive versions of those essentials. I suppose you got a cutie mark too, but I don't care much for that. I'll get it when I get it, when I do doesn't matter."

"Never thought about it that way." Diamond Tiara admitted, "Wow. Even the Blank-Flank thing seems lame now."

Skidder yawned and stretched. "Anyways, I'll get right down to it. I'm sorry about what I did in recess. I shouldn't have pushed you... or threatened you... or made you cry."

"Well, I did keep making fun of you," Diamond Tiara muttered, "and you didn't make me cry..! That was... uh.."

Skidder snorted, "No shame in crying. I've cried lots of times when Celestia first started bullying me. Like when she shanked me with my dad's chisel. I cried like a newborn when she left."

Diamond Tiara raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Yeaaahh... about that... why do you keep saying those stories about Princess Celestia? It's gotten really old. I mean, it's been, like, an entire year!"

"Because they aren't stories. Believe me or not, it doesn't matter."

"Okay, because I don't," Diamond Tiara shrugged, "but... I guess you aren't bad... for a Blank—ah, never mind. It always sounded stupid anyways. And... sorry for the way I've been acting. I've been lame."

"Whatever." Skidder replies lackadaisically, "You're not bad either. Again, sorry for doing all that jazz. We all can be stupid, sometimes."

The two laughed, and decided to use the voluminous abode as a setting for a traditional game of hide and seek. It seems that Diamond Tiara decided to forget about awing Skidder with her wealth today, and thought that fun was better.

The father and son were home now. Skidder was resting in his bed, attempting to enter sleep. The rest of the dinner was uneventful, but still incredibly delicious. The entire night was nice though. Skidder may have become Celestia today, but he learned a lot from the pink filly who constantly harassed him. Diamond Tiara seemed to be acting like a prissy, high-class annoyance because she simply knew no other way. It was all she knew, saw, acted, and breathed. While that does not excuse her behavior, it provides a cushioning for an excuse.

However, this still left him with a problem that he had no idea of how to solve. The Princess Celestia issue. She had not been able to make it to the past couple of nights to terrorize him due to diplomatic duties Equestria called for, but she would still come. Skidder needed to find a solution fast, Princess Celestia was tearing his very being apart. Because of her, Skidder nearly bucked a girl in his class simply because of stupid-snarky words.

This was a dangerous path he was being dragged on, and it would only get worse. It's all or nothing, now. The next time Skidder encounters her would be the last. But how would he make it the last.....

Wait!

Yes! This self-ultimatum had inspired a plan of action. To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy! Luckily enough, Skidder had an entire suspended school day to research the copious amounts of history on the Princess. Yes... this is what Skidder thought to himself, he would end it all with knowledge starting tomorrow morning. Oh, and funnily enough, tomorrow was Hearth's Warming Eve.

"So... on your suspended day off that I am deciding to not ground you on... you want to study?" Cutter skeptically asks his son who had an empty Daring Do saddlebag, hungry for books.

"Yup! I'm putting this Celestia junk to rest!"

Cutter exhales and grins, "So you're finally cleaning yourself of these stories?"

"Mhm, sure!" with that, Skidder rushed through the doors, and rushed to the Ponyville library, Golden Oaks Library.

Skidder returned home hours later with a veritable mountain of books on Princess Celestia. He spilled the flood of words upon the dining table, summoning a gasp of horror from the father as the son cackled madly at his literary haul. Skidder stops laughing, sits down, and opens the first book, A General Guide to Your Sun Princess!.

"I have a feeling, that I'm gonna find everything I need here."

Cutter shook his head, and pulled on his hard hat as he began to head out for work, "Just don't burn the house down while I'm gone."

"I'll try!"

2 BOOKS LATER.

Skidder closed the book. "Ok, from what I gathered she's old. Let's see what these other pieces of knowledge have to say about my mortal enemy!"

5 BOOKS LATER.

"Beat up a bunch of monsters... ok."

8 BOOKS LATER.

"Fought in some old war... and she's old."

22.5 BOOKS LATER.

"I don't even know how that Celestia-Vampire-Romance Fanfiction got in there. Oh, and she's old."

30 BOOKS LATER.

CRRRRRRAAAAAASSSSSH!!!! boomed the sound of sixty-six books through a glass window.

"SHE'S OLD, BEATS UP MONSTERS, AND FIGHTS WARS, I GET IT!!!!! The only original thing you stupid books had to offer was the fanfic. THE FANFIC!!! Princess Twilight lied, books aren't your friends, THEY'RE COMMUNIST JERKS!!!"
Skidder trotted back to his station at the dining table and pouted. His entire day was wasted. Again, Hearth's Warming Eve proved awful. These angry thoughts regarding Hearth's Warming Eve slowly glazed his thoughts, until he descended into fitful slumber, with the hateful holiday in mind.

He was having a dream. Well, it was not exactly a dream, more of a memory than anything. It was the same day, except Skidder was with his father in a snowy, wooded area in the mountains. Someone else was there too. A petite mare with a royal blue coat and black mane. A dripping paintbrush on her flanks marked her special talent. Oh, that's right, this was his mother. And this was the day she died.

Skidder saw it all again, the delightful walk. The perfect day. The perfect snow. The perfect parents. And the perfect time to take it all away.

There was the rumble. The great, thunderous rumble that shook the very snow off of the fir trees. The couple have been in the mountains long enough in the years to know what this meant. They all could escape the avalanche on the nearby jutting rock cliff that cut through the snow. With quick movements and Cutter's horn to part the charging snow, they made it to safety. The only cost was the temporarily overheated horn, which would repair itself in a matter of hours.

The family was safe and sound until the mother's superior earth pony ears first heard the wail of a filly. A pink filly was hanging on the end of a tree branch for dear life.

Skidder saw it all in slow motion. Her mother jumped from impossibly small boulder to the next, with the speed and grace of a pegasus. She brought the filly nearly all the way back by the nape of her neck, but she could not stop the wall of snow that had burst over the treetops. She had thrown the filly to safety, using the energy she could have conserved to save herself, on some strange filly.

Finally, he saw her die again. The whole experience returned, but this time, he felt something different instead of rage. Something he had been missing his entire life. Something his mother had felt for everyone. Something he found and needed in the depths of despair: Love. And he found his answer.

That was it! The answer... it was so simple! The solution had been in front of his eyes the entire time! In Featherweight, in his father, and his mother. It's the answer that ponykind has known since the dawn of time, yet the hardest one to follow.

Skidder opened his eyes, satisfied that his search was over. Skidder looked outside the frosted windowpanes to see that it was quite dark now. The enlightened colt then heard the scratching of somepony landing on his rooftop. The colt smiled, and stepped outside. It's time.

"How ya hanging, Skidmark?"

"Celestia, this is it." The Princess put her weight off the chimney to regard Skidder's statement.

The two were on the roof of Skidder's home. It was still a very snowy and bracing Hearth's Warming Eve, but this one would be different for little Skidder. Instead of a night where a wound reopened itself to burn, it would be a night where all hurts would finally heal.

Princess Celestia chuckles, "You mean we finally gonna scrap? I've been waiting for this."

"No," Skidmark firmly denies, "I'll never throw down with you. One reason is obviously because you're a thousand-year-old alicorn who has the power to move the sun whenever she wants, but I'm about to tell you why I won't fight in a long monologue."

"Really?" Celestia saunters to Skidder, and lightly kicks him with her gilded shoe, nearly knocking him off the slippery roof tiles. "Then shoot."

Skidder finds his balance quickly, remembering his mother's incredibly stability, and braces himself against the chimney to prevent any more falls. "Dear Princess Celestia,—"

Celestia did a double-take, "—Wut?"

"Today, I decided this was gonna be the last day I'd let you harass me. So, what I did was get a buttload of books on you to find anything I could use as a weakness against you... you know what I found? That you've fought a lot of wars, monsters, and that you're really old. That gave me nothing. But... I still had to find a way to stop you. Everyday, you take a little piece of me, and leave a gaping hole that fills itself with... something else. I actually ended up acting like you yesterday. I almost beat up a filly that made fun of me.... I made her feel small, and I even made her run off crying like a little foal. I'll be completely honest, that felt really good... having complete power over someone for a little time.."

Celestia smirks, "So even you get it, Skid—"

"—but then... I had a weird empty feeling, that made me wanna hurt again, and for a second I thought the only way to stop it was to keep going, be like you... but I cried instead. After all this, and a dream, I learned something. It wasn't you that did that to me. It was me. My hate. My hate for you, for my mom dying, for Diamond Tiara, for everything! I let it take over everything... and eventually, I almost became you. A—"

"—Shut up." Celestia demands in a nervous, gargleds tone.

"—Monster. Hate makes ponies into monsters. The only way to carry on in life without being a monster is to let all the hate go, and replace it with love, like how my mom loved some random filly enough to die for her. I know you must have a lot of hate built up over the 1000 years you've lived and fought, and that means you've got that weird empty feeling all the time. You've had to lose dozens of ponies you've loved, and it's gonna happen again and again... so that love you had for them became hate... And you use me..."

"—SHUT UP!" Celestia commands in a high-strung panic, nickering back and forth on the roof tiles.

"—so that everypony else doesn't see the monster, only the princess. Why choose me? I don't know. All I know is that I'm going to let go of the hate, and love instead, like my mom and dad want me to. You can mock me, beat me, burn me, kill me, but all you'll have done is hurt a colt who loved you, and I gained it all by lettin' it go. So, go ahead, do what you will. Because in the end—"

"—SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!" the fierce Canterlot Voice parts the clouds and shatters the heavens. Her front hooves rise, and slam down, cracking the the roof's tiles in mere seconds, but non of it can stop Skidder.

"—I'll just keep on loving you. Your Faithful Punching Bag, Skidder Carver."

The Princess froze in place. Princess Celestia's face was a strange mix of many emotions manifest through confused eyes. Understanding, hatred, pain, despair, shame, awe, grim acceptance, and finally, mulling silence that stretched for quite a long time.

When Celestia finally moved, it was to lower her horn towards him, charging an ominous spell... and conjure up a shiny new bicycle, a photo of Applebloom, a Joyboy Advance, and what looked like a large bag of bits, all packaged in a clear glass box. Silent tears ran down the Princess's face like rivers. She stood there, mutely crying, for several minutes.

She sniffs, and tosses her mane. Finally, she breaks the quiet, "You've broken me. You found me, accepted me, and broke me. You understood what nopony could possibly understand. It's going to take some time to let go of the hate... but you're right, and the sad thing is that I've know this my whole life... I just needed somepony... some little colt... to tell me anyways. Thank you... Skidder." The Princess ran forward and swept Skidder up in a large embrace, which he happily returned. Celestia released him, and flew off into the night.

As Princess Celestia soared through the blizzards in the sky, she felt many things. Happiness, empathy, love... and a sharp pain in her sunny flank. She craned her long neck to find that the source of the twinge was a chisel jabbed deep into her plot. She teared and chuckled, "He shanked me! The colt actually bucking shanked me...!... that's wonderful!"

Then a young colt's voice, whose body probably possesses a disheveled black mane and navy blue coat, called over the winds, "HOPE YOU LIKED MY HEARTH'S WARMING EVE GIFT!"

Cutter Carver's boss, Filthy Rich, forced him to take a vacation for work, meaning he returned home early to witness an unbelievable spectacle. Cutter's jaw dropped when he saw the Princess on the roof with Skidder. It dropped even farther when he saw Celestia kicking Skidder. His jaw slowly closed, however, when Skidder's monologue rung true within his heart. Even Cutter had some hatred in his heart towards his beloved wife's death. But... he can let go now, and it took his son for him to realize that.

Maybe he was—scratch that—he was sure that he could go back to his true passion: sculpting. The other artist in his life is gone, but he needs to keep chipping at that marble canvas, with the Skidder she left behind.

Cutter entered the house, and made a beeline for his room. He needed to change out of the frostbitten construction uniform. However... he nearly failed to noticed the midnight blue stranger lying on his bed.

She spat on the floor, ran a hoof through her ethereal mane filled with stars, looked Cutter up and down, and said, "Where you headin' off to, Cut Up?"

,

Author's Notes:

Finished. Finally. Done with my first story, while my long story still has a looong time left. However, I loved Celestia the Bully. It was fun to write, and it was a nice moral which I learned not too long ago. There are some purposefully vague parts, to give room for imagination and thought, I believe it was a good idea.

Hope y'all like the ending! If you thought it was rushed... it wasn't supposed to be long. This is perfect length to me, honestly. BTW, this is for a contest in Christian Bronies.

Happy Hearth's Warming Eve, and Merry Christmas!
(Check out my ONE OTHER STORY :DDD, it's pretty good!)