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The Incredible Amazeballs Jinglemas Secret Santa Compilation

The Incredible Amazeballs Jinglemas Secret Santa Compilation

by Starsanta the Bearded

Chapters

A Puff of White (for Not_A_Hat)

"That seems dangerous," Fluttershy said in a soft voice. "After all, it's awfully cold out there. The storm probably held her up, but I'm positive she'll be in town by tomorrow."

"…"

Fluttershy smiled. "Well, okay, if you're sure. But let's find you a nice, warm scarf. We wouldn't want you to get sick."

The cold wind bit at Trixie's face as she dug a hoof into the deep snow. She pawed furiously at it, trying to dislodge the wheel of her carriage. "Foolish snow! How dare you delay the Great and Powerful Trixie! I will be in Ponyville tomorrow for my Hearth's Warming show!" She considered trying her favorite fire spell, but the last time she'd used it on her movable home (which doubled as a storage unit for her very elaborate and very combustible props), ponies had talked for weeks about the free fireworks show that could be seen from Appleloosa.

"Gr…" Trixie pulled her lavender hat down to shield her face as another icy gale sucked the heat from her lungs. "Fine. The Calm and Patient Trixie will wait out the storm tonight." She turned her nose up at the wilderness and marched to the door of her carriage, mumbling, "I didn't want to spend the night in Ponyville, anyway. I'm sure all the adoring fans would just keep Trixie awake."

Straining against the wind and the chest-deep snow, Trixie trudged to the door. Her teeth chattered. She channeled her magical energy into her blue horn, which flared to life. With a grunt, a blue aura wrapped around the door of her carriage, but even as she pulled, it held firm, covered in ice. "Not today!" she declared, pouring more of her magic into her horn. With a final pull, the door pushed the snow drift away, opening just wide enough for a pony to fit through.

The blue aura faded. Trixie was sweating despite the cold, and as she stepped inside her carriage, she didn't notice a small, white creature sneak in behind her.

The door closed with a loud slam, and Trixie sighed as the warm air wrapped around her body and worked its way into her fur. The inside of her carriage was small and cramped, but it had a pleasant pine smell and contained all the amenities she needed for long-distance traveling. A pod at the back contained a soft bed with numerous blankets, under and above which were stored food and necessities. Two small, amber gem lamps illuminated the carriage, casting everything in a bright yellow-orange glow. At the front was a shelving unit with props and crates of special effects, though truthfully, those objects were scattered everywhere. Trixie had promised herself she'd fine a place for everything one day, but in some ways, everything was in its place, and she never had any trouble finding anything, anyway.

Trixie magically removed her magical sorcerer's hat and magical cape, magically setting them on a decidedly non-magical coat rack. Shaking out her white-blue mane, she lay on her bed and dug out the meager food she had remaining: a few oats, some alfalfa, and an old, green apple. She chewed the apple first, sour and astringent, and her eyes unfocused as she reflected on her situation.

Hearth's Warming Eve, and she was alone. Again. Always traveling, never able to settle in one place long enough to find a true companion. Trixie closed her eyes. She told herself that she did had friends. So what if she hadn't talked to them in months? After all, Princess Twilight Sparkle had invited her to perform a magic show in Ponyville on Hearth's Warming Day, and that had to count for something, right?

She felt a lightness in her heart as she imagined being welcomed back to the small town, the princess and her friends inviting her to share a meal and swap stories of their adventures over the past year. She imagined the crunch of her apple was a cobbler made by Applejack, that she had already eaten Pinkie Pie's delicious sweet rolls and Rarity's delicious hors d'oeuvres. Her chest swelled with warmth, and for a moment, she was happy.

But then, she opened her eyes, and the dim light found her back in her carriage, chewing her sour apple in silence. Her chest deflated, and the warmth quickly gave way to a coldness much more acute than the storm outside.

Her eyes began to flutter, and her chest tightened. She swallowed hard pursed her lips. "Trixie will be f-fine." The weakness of her voice startled her, "The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn't need anypony else. She will…" Her voice trailed off, and the carriage was quiet.

Blinking away a tear, Trixie lowered her head, pulled a blanket over her body, and tried to drift off to sleep…

…until something soft brushed against her hoof.

"Eeek!" she screamed, jumping up immediately.

Something white darted down onto the floor and under the bed, just inside her peripheral vision. A tinny clang filled the carriage before a small pot rolled out from under her bed, scratching against the wood.

"Who's there?" Trixie jumped onto the floor and glared at the storage space beneath her bed. She stomped her hoof, and her blood began to boil. "I demand you show yourself immediately, or you'll face the Great and Powerful Trixie's wrath!"

A soft rustling noise came from beneath the bed, then stopped. A small bottle of water rolled out and bumped Trixie's hoof.

Trixie ground her teeth. "Fine, but don't say Trixie didn't warn you!" She snorted, and her horn flared to life, shining a soft blue light around her. She crouched down and focused her magic forward, shining her horn beneath the bed and scanning to find the intruder.

She scanned left to right, seeing her usual sundries all askew. Her bag of oats had tipped over. Her toothpaste had been punctured. Her books had been jostled, but thankfully, no obvious damage had been done. A few of her posters had tiny rips, the sewing kit was scattered all over the place, and finally, her extra cape – which she always kept nicely folded – had been balled up, and out of one of the folds poked the small, white, furry face of a ferret with a pink nose and beady black eyes.

Trixie scowled. "Out!" she yelled. "Can't you see the Grea–"

As she shouted, the ferret dashed out of her cloak, brushing up against her side as it scurried past her, a blur of white that trailed a tiny, red scarf.

"Stop that!" Trixie shouted as she leapt to her hooves. She tried to pluck the ferret from the ground with her magic, but it dodged erratically around, quickly slithering between her legs and moving so fast that she couldn't lock her magic onto it. Her tail thrashed around as she twirled in a circle and tried to keep the ferret in her sights. "You won't get awaAHH!!" Her horn caught on a gem lamp and knocked it to the floor with a crash!

"Insufferable little rodent!" she shouted. She jerked her head to the side, just in time to see the ferret dash into a pile of prop wands and cards. "A-ha! The Crafty and Observant Trixie sees you! Take this!"

She shot a blast of magical energy from her horn, which scorched a few of the wands and scattered the pile, but not before the ferret twisted and scurried behind a bag of puppets.

"Gotcha!" she shouted as she fired another beam, this one missing the ferret by just a hair as it skittered up the wall and next to a magic mirror.

"A-ha!" she shrieked, blasting again. The ferret ducked out of the way. The bullet of blue light hit the mirror and ricocheted off it.

"GAH!" Trixie shouted, ducking down as the beam bounced from the mirror to the canteen above her bed. It rebounded to the copper pot, a picture frame, the window on the door, the remaining gem lamp, and finally…

Poof!

Hiss…

…the box of firecrackers.

Trixie's eyes shot wide open, and her stomach dropped into oblivion. "No. NO!" She stumbled back, eyes trained on the hissing box. Her flank bumped into her bed just as the hissing abruptly stopped.

POP!

POPPOP!

POP POP POP POPPOPPOP!!!

Reacting without thinking, Trixie grabbed the box with her magic and yanked it toward her, away from the larger fireworks but spilling the firecrackers onto the floor. Sparks flared all around her hooves, and Trixie squealed and danced in place while the loud explosions erupted at her ankles, singeing her fur. The loud popping of the firecrackers continued its crescendo all around her, and worst of all, she felt tiny, cold paws and a soft belly work their way onto her hoof, up her leg, onto her back, and up her neck, until a shivering ball of fur settled on her head, wrapped around her horn.

The fur brushing her forehead and tiny sticks of powder exploding all around her, Trixie planted her hooves, scowled up at the little face that was peeking at her, and roared, "You are NOT A HAT!" She grabbed the ferret with a quick hoof, ripped open the door of her carriage, and as the last of the firecrackers died down, threw the squeaking ferret out into the snow, forcefully shutting the door with a loud slam.

Trixie panted. Her chest heaved. Everything looked red. Her muscles were tense, and her eyes darted around her carriage. The tiny space wasn't organized chaos anymore. No, now it was just chaotic. Everything was out of place, the air was stale and acrid with gunpowder smoke, and she didn't even want to think about what she would need to do before her show tomorrow.

"Miserable beast!" she yelled to nopony. She snorted and grumbled, "He's lucky I didn't…" She trailed off as something red caught her eye. Something long and flowing and made of fabric. She picked it up with her magic and examined it right in front of her face. It was the scarf that the ferret had been wearing. Trixie snorted and began to reach for the door. "Hm! As if it wasn't bad enough, now I have to clean up his…"

She stopped cold when she saw that a tiny piece of paper tied into the bow and labeled with the word "Trixie." It had been folded many times, and she paused to look at it again. She blinked, but the word remained.

With a cocked eyebrow, she pulled the note from the scarf, unfolded it, and read:

Good evening, Trixie,

This little guy has been your biggest fan since you came to Ponyville. He just couldn't wait to see you again! When I told him you had probably been delayed by the main road, he was so worried that he decided to venture out into the snow to welcome you back himself. Oh, I hope he made it safely. Please take good care of him. He really wants to be your friend, and he's got a special present for you.

See you tomorrow, and happy Hearth's Warming!

Fluttershy

Once again, Trixie's carriage was still. It suddenly felt very large and very empty. Trixie slumped and reread the note, and the heaviness came back to her heart. Tears began to well up into her eyes. To herself, she whispered, "He went out into the storm to…"

She wondered how long she'd been alone. She wondered what life on the road could do to a pony and whether it could erode that pony's heart so slowly that she wouldn't even notice. She remembered those long nights alone, all the rejection she'd felt when her reputation as a fake had spread, and what it felt like to literally be thrown out into the cold.

Her heart stung, and before she knew what she was she was doing, she had stood up and flung open the door. "Wait!" she shouted to the wilderness.

The light from inside shone out into the darkness, casting a soft amber glow onto the white snow. The ferret, who was turned away with his shoulders slumped, paused for a moment. He looked back at Trixie with a frown on his face and his ears down.

Trixie frowned back at him. "Did you… did you come all the way here just to see me?"

The wind mussed the ferret's coat. The ferret nodded slowly.

"And… and you wanted to keep me company tonight?"

A puff of snow blew into the ferrets face. He twitched his whiskers, squeaked, and nodded again.

Trixie bit her lower lip and shook her head. She sighed. "Then… the Humble and Apologetic Trixie is very sorry. I didn't…" Her gaze dropped, and she closed her eyes. "I've been alone for a very long time. Please forgive me."

Trixie heard the soft crunch of snow, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the ferret, its two front paws on the doorstep.

Trixie smiled. "Thank you." She stepped aside. "Come in. It's too cold out there tonight."

The ferret scurried into the carriage and climbed onto Trixie's bed. Trixie couldn't help but giggle as he rolled around and dug under the covers, and suddenly, the carriage didn't seem so dim anymore.

Trixie and Trouble – she felt it was a fitting name, and he seemed to like it – stayed up long into the night, playing and keeping each other warm. Trouble helped put away all the things he'd knocked over, and after a light snack, Trixie took out her fabric and sewing kit and made Trouble a custom lavender cape and tiny hat, just like hers.

They both tried on their outfits, and Trixie helped Trouble get his hat on straight as they both lie on the bed. "There! What do you think?"

With a smile and a squeak of approval, Trouble stood up on his hind paws. He grabbed the cape and the hat and did a little twirl that finished in a dramatic bow.

Trixie clopped her hooves and laughed. "Very impressive. The Great and Powerful Trixie will need to tell Fluttershy what a natural show-ferret you are." Her eyes opened a little wider. "Oh! Speaking of which, Fluttershy said you had something for Trixie?"

Trouble dropped to all fours and nodded.

"What is it?"

Slowly, Trouble padded forward. Trixie felt a twitch of anxiousness as he moved closer, but it all melted away when Trouble placed both his paw on her chest in a tiny, warm hug.

Trixie gasped at the sudden contact, but soon, her heart began to melt. The feeling of warm affection spread from her chest to every inch of her body, from her horn to her hooves. The warmth filled her entirely, and she was not hungry or sad or lonely or afraid. Nothing bad seemed to exist in the world. For the moment, and indeed, for all of Hearth's Warming season, Trixie felt happy.

Cheese in Griffonstone's Jinglemas (for Yarnweaver)

Cheese in Griffonstone's Jinglemas

==============================================================

"I feel it. I FEEEEL IT! This is going to be a doozy—"

A PostPony stepped up, "Sorry to interrupt you joyful exposition, Mr. Cheese Sandwich, but you have a card."

Cheese's exposition receded back into him, "Really? I travel alot. Who would possibly..." He gasped. "IT'S A DOO—"

"NO!" Random PostPony coughed. "I have a serious phobia of energetic joy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"I'll wait, but please hurry. It's hard to hold for this long!"

A light popping sound was heard. "I didn't think we earth ponies could teleport."

And on that day, as they say, Cheese Sandwich's doozy grew two sizes. The resulting shockwave blew over a cactus in the Mopony Desert next to Las Pegasus. Quick as a flash he stuffed the tree up.. wrong story. He grabbed the card and read it.

Dear Cheese Sandwich,

Every year you go around and spread Hearth Warming joy to those even if they cannot afford a large party. I think Griffonstone would be a great place to go this year. Even though that

>Turn card over to continue

griffons don't celebrate the founding of Equestria, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmare says that they in fact do have a tradition a little before Hearth's Warming.

>Turn card over to continue

I would suggest to get to Griffonstone early in order to make sure you catch the holiday. Hove fun!

>Turn card over to continue

- From Pinkie Pie

PS: Sorry my hoof-writing is so large! I bet you had to turn over this card so many times!

>Turn card over to continue

 PSS: Griffons are kind of mean and sort of greedy!

PSSS: I think you should meet my friend, Gilda. Here's a picture of her. It's on the back!

"That was definitely a doozy! Pinkie has such a good idea, Boneless 2! Although, it worries me she can pinpoint my location in the middle of nowhere..."

 

Three weeks later, a pegasus flight, a buffalo ride, a train trip, a boat float, and a mountain climb, Cheese Sandwich silently stepped into Griffonstone. "It's three weeks to Hearth's Warming Boneless 2. I've got a good feeling about this."

Griffons milled around without traditional scowls since a couple of ponies visited and befriended (refriended?) Gilda. Instead, they looked around with less than eager frowns and hostility toward assertive outsiders.

"Sir, a moment of your time," Cheese stepped out of shadows.

The griffon grumbled back, "Pay me."

Cheese became slightly offended, "Two bits?"

Without a word, the griffon snatched them up. "One question."

"Where's Gilda? I hear she's friendly 'round these parts."

"That way." He pointed toward the main area of Griffonstone. "Good day, pony."

Cheese tipped his hat and trotted toward the square. He saw several griffons crowding around a stand with what looked to be pastries. He spotted a female griffon with purple highlights. "Must be Gilda."

"Don't grab what you're not gonna buy, geezer. Get your paws off!"

"I take offense to that; it's racist because I'm a hippogriff."

"I take offense to you backing away with my scone!"

"Touché."

It was at this point Cheese stepped in. "I take it you're having some griffon trouble, Gilda?"

Closing the lid over her cart and making sure no griffon had any unbought pastries, Gilda turned around to face the mysterious pony in a hat and blanket on his back.

"Do I know you?"

"Maby. I'm," he flung off his hat which was caught and stolen by a passing griffon, "Cheese Sandwich!" The reveal created a nice breeze.

"Cheese Sandwich? I think Pinkie Mentioned you in one of our letters. You're that pony that made her feel unnecessary, but it was resolved with song, ewe. What're you doing here?"

Cheese explained that Pinkie's letter said to try something new. Gilda's voice contained a shard of anger, "Hmm. So you came here to throw some sort of holiday party for free because we're charity cases? That's not how it works. We have pride—"

"It's wasn't about the charity thing. Sorry about mentioning that. I've never visited Griffonstone, and Pinkie said you had some traditions around the same time as Hearth's Warming, so I came to have a party with you all."

At the mention of tradition, the thought of Turkey Feast came to her mind. "The image of what a pony would think about the brutality — no he will never know," thought Gilda. "H-hey listen. We have some things that are personal to us around that time, so I would appreciate if you would just leave."

"Wawawait. I came all the way over here with my own bits, and Pinkie said that it would happen a little before Hearth's Warming. Is there any chance I could at all—"

"Before Hearth's Warming?" Gilda's mind hoped that Cheese was sincere because she could avoid all the questions.

"Yeah. Why? Were you thinking of something else?" Gilda politely coughed into her balled up claw.

"Actually, we have a tradition before the one I was thinking of."

"Yippee!" Cheese flipped. He literally did a 720 flip in the air while Gilda praised whatever religion griffons have for the scapegoat, Jinglemas.

"Yeah it's called Jinglemas. But hey, it's a little public out here. Want to talk back at my place?"

"Sure! I'm kinda pooped - party pooped - from all my hiking to get up here." Besides faceclawing (that sounds violent) from his cheesy joke (Oh God, I really just typed that), Gilda rolled her cart back to her home with Cheese Sandwich in tow.

Her home was a usual griffon house, but with the increased income from her baking business thanks to Pinkie, she was able to refurbish it.

"So," they sat with cups of water, "what do you want to know about Jinglemas?"

His eyes dilated with the pupils glittering like a thousand stars, "EVERYTHING."

"Oh, crap! He's a weirdo," thought Gilda as sweat dribbled off of her beak.

"The first Hearth's warming, or the second year that Equestria was founded, a pony came into Griffonstone. She was pink, and looked something like Pinkie Pie. However, the thing that stood out was the red hat that was on top of what looked to be pudding, and it had silver bells literally covering it. She wore an entire red suit covered in hundreds of silver bells."

"It was about a week before Equestria's founding had happened, and she came to see if any griffon wanted to join in on the party. Of course, we couldn’t' stop laughing at the dork, covered in bells."

"She pranced around us, trying to convince us to join her. Those who could speak through their mirth vehemently denied her. At the time, griffons disliked ponies with a passion. They took lands claimed by the griffons even though were rarely used."

"So, in the end, three griffons went to the king and proposed an interesting petition for a holiday. They would call it MerryMock, to make fun of the pony of bells. He agreed after listening to the story, and that eventually came to be known as Jinglemas."

"Sorry to disappoint, but it really isn't that fascinating."

Cheese smiled, "Maybe not, but I really like stories." Gilda's mouth puckered. "In any case, it sounds like it changed a bit over the years to be renamed Jinglemas. SO, what exactly do you do? It sounds like it could be fun."

"Well, we usually all have some sort small garment, like a scarf or cap, with bells sewn on it. If not, then you can usually get one at the town hall if you return it. They take bits as collateral, just in case."

"Then what do you do with the bells?"

"Well," she scratched her head, "we usually just make jokes of that pony or other than that, just have a good time with some hot cider. Other than that, it's just a regular party."

"No songs to commemorate it?"

"Bruh, singing's illegal here." Cheese passed out. For all of two seconds, Gilda was worried until he awoke. "So, whatcha gonna do Cheese?"

"I think I'm going to take page out of Twilight's book. Is there a library here?"

She groaned at the pun, "Yeah, but Jinglemas starts in a week. Don't spend too much time reading, or if you have any ideas, you won't have time to prepare them."

Cheese darted off, but he came back with an embarrassed smile. "Where's the library?"

 

"Whatever he thought of, it better be good. I haven’t seen him except for the time he spends asleep on my couch." Gilda unclenched her fist as she spied Cheese coming down the road with a fairly large box.

"Hey Gilda!"

"Hey yourself. What's in the box? Jinglemas is tomorrow, since clearly you haven't left yet."

"Oh just a," he put on a Nightmare Moon grin, "surprise to —" he innocently waved his hoof "— liven up the party. But there's still more! I found out that singing is illegal for all, but on holidays, singing is legal! The book said something about stifling the creative side of griffons."

All day he set up his new packages of stuff: torches, tables, and fire pits. Nothing was safe or out of the way. Eventually, the entire town was decorated with the help of a few of the more friendly griffons, including Gilda.

"You know Cheese, I've seen you bring many more of those boxes of secret, surprise stuff. I can only wonder..."

"Wonder no more! Midnight is coming, and then we party for the entire day!"

"Uh..."

"YEP! The book said it was a 24 hour deal."

"Now hold on just a minute." She placed her claws on his shoulders. "I know you're really nice and all, but we like to sleep. We haven't done the whole 24 hour thing in my lifetime."

"Oh."

"Nah, don't be sad. We usually awake around ten in the morning, so it shouldn't be too long to start partying!"

 

And ten in the morning it was. The boxes of stuff were enough to keep most griffons on edge with the promise of free stuff; what could be better than free?!

Bells jingled as griffons walked out of their houses. Lo and behold, cider was everywhere! On the benches, on the counters, just everywhere!

"Alright, to get this party started, I want to start with cider and a jaunty tune."

A griffon yelled in the background, "That’s illegal, crazy pony!"

"Not on holidays! Sing with me now!"

 

Eventually, griffons walked into each other due to inebriation, and Cheese jingled around in a body-suit of bells. The day had been celebrated by everyone in all sorts of joy. Rare small talked passed between citizens, and thanks passed to Cheese for the boxes of cider.

"So Cheese, have a good Jinglemas?"

"Oh, it's you, Gilda." Cheese turned around the bench to look at Gilda at the torchlight. "It's pretty late, I'm going to pack up and head back to Ponyville for Hearth's Warming."

He contemplated the day. "It was nice to see the griffons lighten up some. Pinkie wrote that they are usually mean. I just wanted to spread some cheer to liven up and lighten up every griffon. Did it work?"

"Yeah.. I think so. After Pinkie and Dash were here, griffons livened up from my goods. I'm pretty sure they'll be friendlier after this. Thank you Cheese." They shook forelimbs.

"Pleasure doing business. I enjoyed Jinglemas for the most part. However, I still find it kinda mean that they all mock Pinkie's ancestor."

Gilda coughed on her cider, "Ech. I'm not sure if they'll ever stop that. But hey, good party! Better get going now!"

And so, Cheese packed up and left Griffonstone. Later that very week, Turkey Feast was celebrated. No griffon was left out, and they all toasted to good will as demonstrated by that yellow pony. Turkey was fervently devoured in the Great Hall. Jubilation painted the walls with meat.

Pinkie Pie Goes on a Rollicking Adventure Through Time and Plushies, Almost As If She Was Launched From a Love Trampoline, and Then Doughnuts Happen (for Super Trampoline)

"And that's when he said 'Necromancer?!  I hardly even know her!'"  Pinkie Pie grinned wide.

Overcome with giggles, Twilight Sparkle shook against her window of the northbound train car.  "Heeheehee!  Ohhhhhhhhh Pinkie Pie..."  Her eyes rolled liberally across the rattling interior.  "I'm pretty sure that was never a real detail from the Trials of Starswirl the Bearded."  She rubbed her eyes dry, smiling.  "But—I must say—it's an improvement."

"Yeah!  Heehee!  I've got a million of 'em!"  Pinkie Pie winked.  She juggled a saddlebag in her nimble hooves.  "Like—'Why did Clover the Clever cross the road?'"

"Ahem... I don't know.  Why?"

"Pffffft!"  Pinkie reached over and ruffled Twilight's mane.  "Silly filly!  A paved transit system didn't exist in Equestria until the Modern Era six thousand years later!"

"Heeheehee!"  Twilight hugged herself, laughing until her cheeks were red.  Wheezing, she briefly broke out of her hysterics in time to wave a hoof at her friend.  "C-careful, Pinkie!"  She gulped.  "You don't want to jostle your party supplies!"

"What?  Oh, you mean this?"  Pinkie playfully twirled and rolled her saddlebag.  "Eh... it's just full of notes and stationary.  Nothing fragile.  Or glittery."

"Wow..."  Twilight blinked at the snowy scenery passing the train window.  "Now that's a change if I ever heard one."

"Well, Princess Cadance needs my help in party planning, right?"  Pinkie Pie winked. "There's a time and a place to be a Big Adult Pants McSeriousMuzzle.  And I'd say putting together a baby shower is just that time and place!"

"I'm just so glad that you agreed to take on the task of planning my sister-in-law's baby shower," Twilight said, sighing happily.  "It means so much to me, Pinkie Pie.  You've no idea."

"Pffft!  Duhhhh!  Of course I do!"  Pinkie stuck a tongue out.  "A happy Cadance means a healthy bouncing baby boy or girl!  And a healthy bouncing baby boy or girl means a cheerful fluttering alicorn aunt!"  She twirled the bag some more.  "Don't you worry one bit, Twilight!  I'm gonna help Cadance get so squared away she'll practically become a rectangle!"

"Hehehe..."  Twilight rolled her eyes again.  "That's not exactly how it works, but I get it."  A wink.  "I'm just glad that my sister-in-law is getting a chance to hang out with my best... ... ... with one of my best friends!"

"Wow, are there a lot of jerks in this train ride?"  Pinkie chirped.  "'Cuz your tongue is dangling loose!"

"Eh heh heh..."  Twilight sweated momentarily.  Just then, the air filled with the squealing sound of brakes.  The train lurched as—outside the window—the landscape turned almost magically from frigid snow to warm, verdant grasslands.  "Oh hey!  We're here already!"

"Wow!  How time does fly when you're twisting tongues!"

"Oh Pinkie.  Please.  We can't get to the Crystal Palace in one piece if you keep trying to put me into stitches!"

"Don't you fret your pretty alicorn head one bit, Sky-Twi!"  Pinkie Pie stood up and bowed playfully towards her.  "We'll hoof it to your sister-in-law's throne room!  Then the Mistress of Party Planning will have a sit with Princess Cadance to discuss invitations and party favors!  Meanwhile you'll get to pay a visit to the Imperial Library like you've totally been planning for the entire train ride!"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..."  Twilight unfolded her lavender wings in a meager attempt to mask her blushing features.  "I don't know what you're talking about.  I'm... uhhhh... j-just here for my future niece!"  A gulp.  "Or nephew..."

Pinkie Pie giggle-snorted.  "Hey Twilight.  Has anypony told you that your horn grows when you tell a fib?"

"It does n-not!"

At last, the train jolted to a stop.  Steam expelled past the windows.

"We're here!  We're herrrrre!"  Pinkie Pie threw her saddlebag towards the ceiling, dove straight up, and forward-flipped.  She landed with the article neatly wrapped around her flanks.  "Last one out's a rotten monarch!"

"Pinkie!"  Twilight fumbled to slip on her own saddlebag.  "Wait for me!"

Humming to herself, Pinkie Pie exited the coach.  As soon as she descended onto the train depot's crystalline platform—SCHIIIING!—she found herself staring at a phalanx of heavily armed crystal pony guards.  "... ... ...okay, so I was only making a jokey-joke about the 'rotten monarch' thingy."

"Stand down!" shouted a breathy, handsome voice.  Shining Armor shuffled up, also wearing a smattering of metal plates across his person.  "It's just my sister's friend."  He smiled from under his helmet.  "That means the Princess of Friendship can't be far behind."

Twilight hopped out of the train behind Pinkie and instantly gasped.  "Shining!"

"Twili!"

Twilight galloped forward and allowed herself to be scooped up in his strong embrace.  "Heeheehee!"

"It's so good to see you!"

"Yeah!  Feels like it's been ages!"  Twilight leaned back, squinting at her reflection in his armor.  "Uhm... so... what's with the full regalia?"

"Well, Twilight." Shining Armor leaned back, clearing his throat and clenching his jaws.  "This is a time of political tension and great adversity.  The Crystal Empire hangs on the precipice of a power shift, and as Captain of the Royal Guard I am responsible for defending this kingdom from any and all possible incursion."

"B.B.B.F.F...."  Twilight squinted slyly at him.  "You're not just beefing up security because your wife is with foal, are you?"

Shining shifted from one side to the other.  His thin eyes twitched.  "Mmmmm... maybe."

"Heehee..."  Twilight leaned in to nuzzle the Captain.  "Well, maybe you can learn to relax things a little while I'm here."  She winked.  "After all... how much safer can a kingdom be when there are two alicorns present?"

"You have a point there, Twili."

"Of course, I'm totally proud of you for wanting to protect Cadance so much.  And I'm sure she's tickled pink as well."  Twilight arched an eyebrow.  "You haven't... uhhh... done anything drastic like enforced a military curfew, I hope."

"Nonsense!  This is a society of liberation and freedom!"  Shining nevertheless cleared her throat.  "Although, I... m-might have performed a royal embargo on ice cream and pickles."

"Hehehe.  How's Cadance doing, anyways?"

"Just peachy keen, Twili."  Shining's eyes were bright.  "Would you like to meet her?"

"Absolutely!  And Pinkie Pie here is totally ready to help her plan her Royal Baby Shower!"  Twilight looked over.  "Isn't that right, Pinkie?"

"OOoooOOooOOoooh!"  Pinkie was busy staring dead-on into a crystal pony guard's shiny chest.  She looked over, eyes bedazzled.  "Y'know... if you look close enough, you can see straight through 'em and tell what they had for breakfast!"

"Unnnngh..."  Twilight rolled her eyes.  "Pinkie..."  She smiled, cheeks rosy.  "What am I going to do with you?"

"Hopefully nothing!"  Pinkie hopped across the train depot.  "Cuz you'll be too busy reading your eyeballs off at the library!"

"Uhhhhhh..."  Twilight blushed, sweating under Shining Armor's scrutinous gaze.  "Ehehehehehehhhh..."

"Come on, slow pokes!"  Pinkie bounced in the general direction of the Crystal Empire's Palace.  "The baby ain't gonna shower itself!"

A shiny pair of doors burst wide open.

WHAM!  "Whazzzzzzuppp?"

Princess Cadance looked up from a luxurious pile of cushions where the alicorn lay.  She levitated a clipboard full of royal decrees back into the grasp of dutiful crystal secretaries before dismissing them.  "Twilight!  Pinkie Pie!"  She grinned, her eyes sparkling.  "You're here!"

"Heya, Princess of Lurrrrrve!"  Pinkie Pie hopped over, winking.  "How's it bakin'?"

"Baking?"  Cadance blinked.

"You know!"  Pinkie pointed, making a silly face.  "The bun in the oven!  The pie in the fridge!  The dork in the stork—!"

"Pinkie Pie..."  Twilight moaned.  "Please..."

"Heeheehee... it's okay, Twilight."  Cadance bore a weary smile.  "You've no idea how delightful it is to have such good friends like you around again."

"Has Shining kept you locked up in the throne room all this time?!" Twilight stammered.

"Hehehe... no."  Shining shifted her weight on the cushions.  A pronounced girth swelled from her normally narrow belly.  "I insisted that I spend most of my days in here.  I may not be up for moving much at this point, but I can still be of some royal use.  With the help of Imperial servants, of course."

"Well, you picked the best place!" Pinkie exclaimed, staring out a large, open window.  "It's nice and sunny and breezy in here!  I bet even a heartless royal assassin wouldn't ever bother firing a poison dart through one of these huge gaping windows—!"

"Yes, Pinkie," Twilight groaned.  "Point well made."

"Granted, if Shining had his way, I'd be boarded up inside our royal chambers with a million midwives doting on me every hour of every day," Cadance said, rolling her eyes.

"I know, right?"  Twilight giggled.  "You know my brother's overprotective only because he loves you."  She smiled.  "He was the same way when I was a little filly—always wanting to walk me safely to school each morning."

"Awwwwwwww..."  Cadance cooed.  "So he's told me.  Good grief, he's probably going to buy a tank and park it right outside the Palace once the baby drops out."

"That reminds me!"  Pinkie Pie slid in.  "I'd better buy a trampoline!"

"A trampoline?"

"Make that a super trampoline!"  Pinkie Pie winked.  "So the bouncing baby boy or girl has something to give it an extra spring once it drops outta ya!"

"Pinkie, it's only an expression—"

"Duaaaaaaaaaah!"  Gasping hard, Pinkie dove past Twilight and nuzzled up to Cadance's belly.  "And who do we have here?!"

"Careful."  Cadance smiled.  "It bucks."

"I bet it does!"  Pinkie pressed her fuzzy head to Cadance's womb.  "Hmmm?  Huh?  What's that?  Gurgle gurgle goo?  Well Gurgle gurgle gobbily goo!"  She looked up with a wink.  "That means 'Good morning' in fetus."

"Heeheehee..."  Cadance laughed, wheezed, and coughed.  "Please, Pinkie Pie!  Your mane!  It tickles!"

"Ackies!"  Pinkie suddenly toppled backwards.  She sat up with a derpitive expression, rubbing her head.  "Talk about a buck!  K.O.!  Finish herrrrr!"

"Okay okay..."  Twilight waved a hoof.  "Maybe I should let you two wetnurses get started?"

"Hmmmmmmmmm..."  Cadance sat up, smiling coyly.  "Somepony really wants to go check out the Imperial Library, huh?"

"What?"  Twilight shook.  "I... that... it... you..."  Her cheeks puffed up.  "No!"

Pinkie and Cadance laughed.

"It's okay, Twilight."  Cadance nodded.  "You go on and have your fill.  We'll catch up this evening when we have dinner with Shining."

"Yeah!"  Pinkie waved.  "We'll do lots of catching up!  Mustarding, even!"

"The sooner Pinkie Pie and I get the planning done, the more time we'll have to hang out over the next few days."

"Well, that works for me!"  Twilight gaily trotted away.  "If you need anything, though... anything whatsoever—"

"I'll send a messenger for you, Twilight.  Don't worry."

"Well, then!  Uhm... have fun you two!"  Twilight paused at the doorway, a rosy lavender shape with a waving hoof.  "Pinkie Pie... uhhh..."  Her wings fluttered.  "See ya!"

The throneroom doors closed.

"Okie dokie lokie!"  Pinkie Pie spun around.  Digging into her saddlebag, she pulled out a miraculously large table and slapped it down on the glossy floor.  "Time to get this party planning in motion!"  She whipped out multiple notebooks and folders and stationary.  "Don't you fret your pretty pink prancing princess head, Your Highness!"  A blue-eyed wink.  "I'm the best planner there ever was!  I once talked a family of zebras into accepting a crocodile as their caterer on Neigh Year's Eve!"

"Hmmmmm..."  Cadance, in the meantime, was busy tapping her chin.  "Is Twilight feeling okay, Pinkie Pie?"

"Huh?"  Pinkie blinked.  "Of course, Your Majesty!  Heehee!  Why wouldn't she be?  I mean, besides the kaleidoscope of butterflies in her stomach upon contemplating the inevitable aunthood she's soon to experience at the hooves of a drooling niece or nephew!"

"This is the first time I remember her bringing only one friend during a visit to the Crystal Empire."

"Oh yeah!  I guess that is strange.  I remember asking Twi why she didn't invite Fluttershy or Dashie to come along, and then she just hummed the Winter-Wrap-Up song and pointed at a bunch of squirrels!  They were really cute squirrels!  They had tails and everything!"  A beat.  "Anywhose!"  Pinkie dug into her saddlebag again.  "About the invitations..."

"Yes."  Cadance cleared her throat, shifting her weight towards the edge of the cushions.  "By all means.  Let's get started."

"Sooooooooooooo..."  Pinkie Pie laid on her chest, surrounded by a sea of note cards and yellow post-its.  She bit onto a pencil, scribbling several figures across a pad of paper.  "Mrmmmffmmfff..."  Spitting the pencil out, she scratched her head.  "If we send pink bassinet figurines with half of the invites and tiny plastic blue rattles with the other half, then there's a forty-six-point-seven percent chance that all attendees will arrive at the shower with an even ratio of bassinets to rattles.  We could then pair them up evenly by number so that they can engage in a fuzzy booty hunt!  Granted, that'll depend on the weather.  Hmmmm..."  She squinted across the throneroom, smiling.  "Did you decide on the royal gazebo or the royal rotunda for the location?"

Princess Cadance stifled a yawn.  The rosy light of a setting sun coated her pregnant figure with crimson.  "Hmmmmm... I th-think that indoors is the best."  She blinked.  "And safest."

"Rotunda it is, then!" Pinkie Pie chirped, crossing one word out on her notes and putting a check mark alongside another.  "It'll be super round!  Like you!  Heehee... that's a pregnancy joke.  Y'know... cuz you're so pregnant n'stuff."  She winked, then re-shuffled the cards.  "Now... assuming all of the fuzzy booties get found, just what percentage of them should I slip in a free coupon to Foals 'R Us?"  She grinned in the Princess' direction.  "You see, the "R" is backwards.  That's smexy marketing for you."

"Mmmmm... but the guests won't..."  Cadance yawned again.  "...n-need the coupon.  Not like Shining... and me..."

"Hey!  You never know!"  Pinkie grinned.  "Maybe every pony showing up for the Shower will catch the whiff of baby and get inspired!"  A wink.  "Who knows what magic will unfold when they return home to their significant orifice!"

"Hehehe..."  Cadanace managed a few laughs, and then sighed it off with a bleary-eyed expression.

Pinkie's muzzle wriggled.  She stood up straight, cocking her head to the side.  "Hey Princess, I hate to be a nosy nopony, but did you take up lumberjacking?"

"Hmmmm?"

"'Cuz from the look of things, you really wanna be sawing wood right about now."

"Oh.  Heehee..."  Cadance waved a dainty hoof.  "Oh Pinkie.  I'm so sorry."  She fought another yawn.  "You've been doing a marvelous job.  Really, you have.  I... I-I just don't know what's come over me."  She rubbed her bleary eyes.  Her horn flickered brightly a few times, then went dim.  "I'm just... f-feeling so exhausted all of the sudden."

"Hey!  It's okies!"  Pinkie stuck a tongue out.  "If you need to take a royal cat nap, then purr away!  You deserve it!  After all..."  A slight giggle.  "You're sleeping for two as of late!"

"Mmmmmmm... you make a good point."  Cadance blinked heavily.  "How far did we get?"

"Pretty far!  But don't worry your shiny tiara about that!  We'll finish planning another day when you're good and rested, Your Highness!"

"Mmmmm... thank you, Pinkie Pie."  Cadance exhaled, deflating into the cushions.  "You're so... sweet and helpful... joyous..."  Her eyes rolled back, then shut as she drifted away with a delirious smile.  "It's no wonder Twilight... thinks that you're... you're the... mmmmmmm..."

"Huh?  What was that?"  Pinkie asked.  The moment she noticed Cadance slumbering away, however, she clenched muzzle shut.  Backing away, she smiled and began scooping up all her notes.  "Heeee.  Princess sleep is the best sleep."  She stuffed as many post-its as she could into her saddlebag.  "Why... if I grew a horn and wings overnight, I'd find the tallest tower of pillows I could and climb to the very top!"

FLAAASH!

Pinkie Pie blinked.

Everything had turned pitch black.

"Uhm... hello?"

She reached her hooves forward—slapping against dull cardboard.  She was boxed in from all sides, cocooned by tissue paper.

"Uhhhhh... Princess Cadance?"  Pinkie gulped.  "I didn't mean your pillows!  I'm sure Rarity has enough cushions back home for me to make a tower out of!  I wasn't gonna steal from the Crystal Empire!  Honest!"

She heard muffled voices from beyond the airtight sarcophagus imprisoning her.

"Hello?!  Anypony?!"  Pinkie shook and wobbled from side to side.  "Can you help me?!  I think I fell into a shoebox dungeon!"

She heard the tearing of paper.  Just then, seams of glittery light appeared all around her, forming a thickening rectangle.

She sniffed the air rushing into the tight compartment.  "Mmmmmm!  Pine!"  A dumb grin.  "So, did the squirrels ride the train here after all?"

Then—in a bright burst—the lid to the box that Pinkie was in lifted entirely.  The big, gawking face of an adorable lavender filly lifted into view, gaping down at her.

"Oh wow!" squeaked a high-pitched unicorn.  "Look at you!"

Pinkie blinked.  "Look at me!"  She bore a dumb grin.  "Twilight, look at you!"

"Heeheehee!"  The filly reached in, and her hooves were surprisingly large... surprisingly strong.  She hoisted Pinkie Pie out of the box and squeezed her tight.  "She even knows my naaaaaame!"

"Whoah there!  Hehehe!"  Pinkie squinted out one eye as her cheek was squished up against Twilight's chin.  She nuzzled back as best as she could, her limbs dangling limply.  "Well, look who's a touchy-feely little filly!"  All around them, colored lights and flickering candles spun.  "Yowsers!  Why's it chilly all of the sudden?"  Her eyes traveled down Twilight's petite little body.  "Huh... where're your wings, Twilight?"  A blink.  "...or your cutie mark, for that matter?  That's the most Twilightish part, at least until the third season."

"Wings?"  Twilight held Pinkie at a distance, pouting.  "Wings only belong on insects, avian creatures, or the scant few mammals who have adapted flying appendages due to convergent evolution."

"Uhhhhhhhh..."  Pinkie grinned crookedly.  "Stole the words right out of my muzzle!"

"Heeeeeee!"  Twilight rolled over, bouncing Pinkie towards the ceiling with her little legs.  "I love you!"

"I... love... you... too!"  Pinkie yelped, flouncing in mid-air.

"I'm going to call you Smarty Pants!" Twilight cooed.

"Hey!  What a coinkydink!" Pinkie chirped.  "Didn't you once have little plushie doll named Smarty Pa—"

"Awwwwwwwwwwwww..." a motherly voice cooed.  "Look at that, honey.  She's already talking to it."

A stallion's voice drifted across the room as well.  "Told you it was worth buying at the clearance sale at Barnyard Bargains."

"Sssssssshhhh... darling..."

"Oh.  Right.  Ahem.  Do you like it, Twilight?  Commander Hurricane brought it especially for you!"

Twilight sat up, hugging Pinkie from behind.  "Oh please, daddy."  The unicorn filly stuck her tongue out.  "Commander Hurricane perished centuries ago.  Besides, it would be completely beneath a pegasus warrior of her stature to climb down chimneys and deliver presents to foals on a yearly basis."

Pinkie blinked.

Sitting across a living room floor littered with shredded wrapping paper and bows was a pair of adults.  Mr. and Mrs. Sparkle squatted on a couch with levitating mugs of hot cocoa.  The father rolled his eyes in the light coming from a Hearth's Warming tree and sighed.

"Well, so much for that piece of childhood innocence."

"Now now, dear..."  Mrs. Sparkle leaned in to nuzzle her husband.  "What matters is that our clever little Twilight his happy.  So what if she doesn't absorb Hearth's Warming myths like we did at her age?"

"I guess..."

"Besides..."  The mother winked.  "She seems to take an instant liking to her new special friend."  She craned her neck.  "'Smarty Pants,' was it?"

"Actually, the name's Pinkie Pie!" Pinkie said.

"She says her name is Pinkie Pie!" Twilight exclaimed.

"Does she, now?"

"But I like 'Smarty Pants' better!"  Twilight hugged Pinkie tighter from behind.  "After all, she isn't pink, is she?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..."  Mrs. Sparkle blinked.  Then, with a slight cough, she turned and smiled across the way.  "Okay, Shining!  How about opening up your next present?"

"Whew!  Friggin' finally!"  A young colt tore into his present.  Pinkie watched as he unwrapped a bright red package, and the youth's eyes lit-up.  "Oh my Celestia!  A Neightendo Sixty-Four!"

"Happy Hearth's Warming, Shining!"

"Oh wow!  Wow wow wow wow!"  Shining rushed over to hug the two parents close.  "You guys are the absolute best!"

Pinkie couldn't see anymore, because a unicorn filly was turning her around, smiling prim and proper in her face.  "Now, Smarty Pants, do you know what every mare needs to survive from day to day?"

"Uhhhhhhhhh..."  Pinkie blinked.  "...a uterus?"

With remarkably adept magic, the filly levitated a notepad and a pen into Pinkie's felt grasp.  "A notebook and quill!  So that way you will always be prepared for lesson time!"  She grinned from ear to fuzzy ear.  "Now!  Who's ready to do some homework?"

"Well, I guess I could get an early start on planning even more of Princess Cadance's baby shower."  Pinkie Pie looked down at herself.  "And... uhm..."  She blinked, staring at a pair of gray fetlocks made of soft cloth.  "Huh.  Since when was I Maud-colored?"  She looked down even further, spotting a pair of polka-dotted trunks over her flank and lower legs.  "Hey!  Where'd my smiling gator jammies go?"  She sensed a white flutter in her peripheral vision.  Looking to her left, she found herself staring out at the frost-laden rooftops of Canterlot.  Gentle snowfall baptized the morning outside in an ivory sheen.  "I knew it felt nippy in here."  Just then, a reflection came into focus—that of a raggedy-mane'd plushie cradled in a tiny Twilight's hooves.  "Wait.  I don't remember brushing my mane like that!"

"You want me to brush your mane, Smarty Pants?"

Pinkie spun to face Twilight, beaming.  "Do I?!?"

FLAAASH!

In a blink, the living room was gone—including the snow, the wrapping paper, and the Hearth's Warming Tree lights.

"Awwwwwwww..."  Pinkie pouted, her ears drooping.  "That was a really... really fuzzy Twilight too."  She blinked, taking in the sights and sounds of the Crystal Palace's throneroom again.  "Oh hey.  This place."

Upon hearing a shuddering breath, Pinkie Pie spun around.  "... ... ...Princess Cadance?"

The alicorn lay on her bed of cushions.  Her muzzle was twisted in what could only be described as an uncomfortable expression.  Her horn glowed and pulsed at regular intervals.

"Say... uh... are you okay?"  Pinkie Pie shuffled over.  "Helllllloooo?"  She rapped the end of her hoof against the princess' horn.  Thap thap thap!  "Princess Cadance?  Are you in there?  Sorry to bother you and all, but your horn thingy is all glowy and—"

FLAAASH!

A filly's purple bedroom stretched around her.

"Buh?" Pinkie buh'd.

"Look out, Clover!"

Pinkie spun around.

A lavender filly hid behind a stack of books.  Twilight wore a starry robe, complete with a pointed cap and a fixed costume beard.  "Get back to the fort, my apprentice!"  She waved an umbrella for a staff.  "The Bookmancer is coming!"

"Huh?"  Pinkie blinked.  "Bookmancer?"

"Unless..."  Twilight's eyes narrowed into chiseled gemstones in the afternoon light.  "...you think you're adept enough to take on the evil wizard!"

"Sister..."  Pinkie grinned wide.  "I was born to take on Bookmancers before breakfast!"

"It's coming straight for us!"  Twilight's voice cracked as she pointed with the umbrella.  "Protect the fort!"

"Grrrrr!"  Pinkie spun.  "Where is he?!"

"There!"

Pinkie saw a rocking horse with painted paper fangs dangling from its wooden muzzle.

"I got you, tome scum!"  Pinkie Pie jumped high.  She clasped the rocking horse's neck with her felt limbs and wrestled the thing sideways until it toppled over.  "Raaaaaaugh!  Chew on pink justice!"  She headbutted the thing constantly.  "Today's menu—extra crispy slices of you!"  At one point, her head scraped a hoof-handle at an awkward angle.  A button flew loose from her head and fell to the carpeted floor.  Pinkie Pie clung to the rocking horse for a few silent seconds, then bellowed:  "MEDIC!"

"Oh noes!"  Twilight gasped, standing up straight.  "Smarty Pa—er... I mean Clover!"

"Ohhhhhhhh what a cruel world!"  Pinkie Pie sprawled across the floor, writhing playfully.  "Book war!  Book war never changes!  Gaukkkt!  Mwaaargh!  Bleakkkktt!"

Twilight rushed over, nearly tripping on her pasted-on beard.  "Clover!  Clover, speak to me!"

"Mwuhhh... iFour scones and seven yeasts ago...'"

"Your rejuvenation spell, Clover!" Twilight yelped.  "Cast it on your eye!  Quick!"

"It's... no good... Twilight—"

"Psssst... Starswirl!"

"Starswirl!"  Pinkie coughed, sputtered.  She rolled over, squinting up at her playmate.  "This is... super... d-duper important."  She gulped.  "You must... give me lots and lots of... m-magic hugs."

"But... but that's the forbidden magic!"

"I say thee neigh!  It must be done!"  She wheezed, curling up.  "All of my baby grandclovers depend on it!"

"Don't worry, my faithful apprentice!"  Twilight scooped Pinkie up in her lavender limbs, nuzzling her close.  "Your master won't fail you!"

"Snkkkt—heeheehee!"

"Is it working, Clover?"

"Your beard, Twilight... I mean Starswirl!"  Pinkie stuck a tongue out.  "It tickles!"

"Clover!  Now's not the time to laugh—"  Twilight suddenly gasped.  With nimble magic, she floated the button off the floor and slowly reattached it to Pinkie's face.  "Oh my stars!  Look, Clover!  It's working!  Your eye is healing!"

"Yaaaaaaaaaaay!"  Pinkie grinned wide.  "Can we fix my itchy knee next?  Cuz that's been bothering me super bad ever since middle school!"

"Heeheehee!"

"Starswirlllllll..."  Pinkie winked once her eye was reattached.  "You're gigglinnnnng!  That's unbecoming of a—"

FLAAASH!

"—grand wizard?"  Pinkie blinked into the setting sun beyond the Palace windows.  She raised a hoof to her head, feeling her soft, fleshy eyelids.  "Hmmmmm..."  The mare licked her lips.  "Should have used a stronger thread."

"Cadance!"

Pinkie spun about.

Shining Armor stood in the doorway, gawking.  With a look of shock, he galloped across the room and slid on his knees before the pile of cushions.  Tossing his helmet off, the Captain of the Guard grasped the Princess' shoulders, gently shaking her.

"Cadance!  Cadance, wake up, my love!"

"Oh... uh... hey Shining!"  Pinkie gulped, rubbing the back of her neck with a nervous smile.  "So... uhmmm... what's your favorite Neightendo game?  Mine is Marejora's Mask!"

"Pinkie Pie!"  Shining spun towards her, muzzle agape.  "What happened?!"

"Well... uh..."  Pinkie fidgeted.  "They only had one year to work on it after the first one, and I suppose only four dungeons is a bit of a stretch, come to think of it."

"Cadance is... under some spell!" Shining stood up, shivering.  "Tell me.  Just how long has she been unconscious with her horn glowing like this?"

Pinkie shrugged.  "I'unno."

"You don't know?!"

"I was too busy being zapped away to filly Twilight at Hearth's Warming."

"Huh?"

"Well, the first time it was Hearth's Warming Morning.  Then the next time it was in her bedroom.  Coulda been any time of the year, actually."

"Pinkie..."  Shining's brow furrowed.  "Just what are you talking about?"

"It's hard to explain, really."  Pinkie looked at Cadance's figure as she gestured.  "One moment, I was packing things up from a long afternoon of baby shower planning with Cadance.  The next thing I know—"

FLAAASH!

Pinkie blinked.  "... ... ...yeah, pretty much that, Shining."  She blinked.  "Shining?"  BONK!  A bar of soap ricocheted off her felt skull.  "Owie!"

"Smarty Pants!  You gotta duck!" Twilight squeaked.  She sat on the far end of a warm bathtub, splashing bubbles and water.  "You know how expert those goblins are at catapulting soap!"

"Pffft..."  Pinkie sat back against the neck of a rubber duckie.  "Now that's just racist."  She rolled her eyes.  BONK!  "Owie!"  She rubbed her head, grinning devilishly.  "Okay!  Where are those stinkin' goblins?!  Let me at 'em!"

"Over there!"  Twilight gathered a pile of bubbles and cowered behind it.  "Don't stare directly at them!  They'll turn you to stone!"

"Not if I get soap in their eyes first!"  Pinkie paddled the rubber duckie across the bathtub, approaching a smooth counter where a bunch of green plastic action figures were precariously perched.  "Alright, ya big bullies!  Who wants to get dunked first?!"

"Get the tall one!  The tall one!"  Twilight pointed with a soaking wet hoof.  "He's the one who soiled our magic stamp collection in the Great Book Raid!"

"Duaaaaaaaaaah!"  Pinkie gasped wide.  "That fiend!"  She brought the rubber duckie broadside and flung her felt hooves out.  "C'mere, you!"  Grabbing one action figure, she shoved its head repeatedly into the bubbly waters of the tub.  "Take that!  And that!  And that!"

"Heehee!  Let 'em have it, Smarty Pants!" Twilight cheered.

"Where's your lunch money, dweebanoid?!" Pinkie growled.  "Huh?!  Not so tough now with your goblin ears full of suds!"

Across the bathroom, a hoof pounded against the doorframe as someone tried turning the locked doorknob from outside.  "Twilight?!  Open this door!" Shining Armor's voice cracked.  "You'd better not be soaking my action figures again!  Those things are in mint condition!"

Twilight stuck her tongue out from where she waded.  "That's what you get for sneaking into my bedroom without asking!"

"Yeah!"  Pinkie hollered.  "Goblin King!"

FLAAASH!

"Go stick your head in a pile of pigeon poop!" Pinkie made a face.  "Nyeaaaah!"

The Captain of the Guard blinked from across the throne room.  "I beg your pardon?"

"Erm..."  Pinkie instantly shrank away, smiling nervously.  "Cover yourself in pigeon poopie.  Y'know."  She gulped.  "For being the Goblin King and ruining Twi's stamp collection?"

"... ... ..."  Shining Armor turned to look at his slumbering wife's horn.  After staring at the glowing object, he pivoted to squint at Pinkie Pie again.  "Pinkie..."  His eyes narrowed.  "Have you been... going somewhere all of the sudden?"

"Not at all!"  Pinkie shook her head.  A beat.  "Well..."  She smiled sheepishly.  "Unless you count these random moments from Twilight's childhood when she's been playing with Smarty Pants."

Shining paled at that.  "Twilight's childhood... as in the past?"

"Well, I seriously doubt she'll become a foal again tomorrow," Pinkie said, tapping her chin in thought.  "Unless—of course—that's some sort of rite of passage to a new alicornhood or something."  Pinkie gasped wide.  "Ooooh!  Shining!  What if Twilight becomes a double princess?!"

"Pinkie.  Listen very carefully."  Shining trotted forward, placing her hooves on the mare's shoulders.  "This is important."

"I know!  What could be more important than Double Princess?  Except, of course, maybe Triple Princess."  Her muzzle twisted.  "... Quadruple Duchess?"

"Are you yourself when you teleport away to Twilight's fillyhood?"  Shining gulped.  "Or are you someone else?  Or something else?  Like an object?"

"Well... uh... you remember me mentioning Smarty Pants?"

"You mean Twilight's old doll?"

"Yeah.  Only, the doll's not so old.  Cuz I'm not so old."  Pinkie gulped, then smiled crookedly.  "Cuz I think we're both one and the same.  In the past."  Her eyes went in opposite directions.  "Oh gosh.  Brain needs food badly."

"Blessed Celestia..."  Shining stumbled back, trembling.

"I know, right?"  Pinkie ran a hoof through her mane.  "Who wants a raggedy mane like that?"

"It's..."  Shining turned to gape at Cadance's glowing horn.  "It's happening again..."

"Huh?"  Pinkie Pie blinked.  "What's happening again?"

FLAAASH!

"Oh!"  Pinkie grinned maniacally at a verdant green park stretching around her.  "This is happening again!  Cool!"

"Aaaackies!"  Twilight galloped across a playground, scooping Pinkie Pie up from behind.  "Run, Smarty Pants!  Run!  It's the book ghosts!"

"Oh jeebus!"  Pinkie clung tightly to Twilight's fuzzy little figure.  "Those are the worst kind of ghosts!"

"Eeeeek!"  Twilight tried shrieking, but she inevitably broke into a series of giggles.  She and Pinkie climbed to the top of a metal jungle gym.

Meanwhile, a few spaces away, Pinkie saw Twilight's mother seated on a bench with another mare.

"Wow, I've never seen your daughter so... active, before."  The other mare sipped a cup of fresh morning coffee.  "It's positively healthy.  I like it."

"I know."  Twilight's mother sighed happily into the crisp mountain air of Canterlot.  "Ever since Hearth's Warming, she's been a little bundle of joy and energy.  It's quite refreshing."

"I see she's taken quite a liking to that little doll of hers."

"Oh!  You've no idea!"  The mother laughed, rolling her eyes.  "Best gift her father's gotten her yet.  And it's done wonders to her imagination."

"Hey!"  Pinkie smiled across the way, draped over Twilight's shoulder.  "It's done wonders to mine too!"

The two adults ignored her.  "I'm a little worried with how much she likes talking to it, though.  It's a poor substitute for filly friends her age."

"Well, consider it a first step in the right direction.  Besides, with all the books your daughter reads, it's about time that genius mind of hers got tickled by something more than words!"

"Well, that's a nice way of putting it."

"Ya hear that, Twilight?"  Pinkie Pie patted Twilight's shoulder as they both reached the top of the jungle gym.  "You're gonna be a smart princess of friendship, someday!"

"Hey Smarty Pants!  Do you think Starswirl's flight spell has worn off yet?"

"Whoah there, silly filly!"  Pinkie Pie giggled.  "One thing at a time!  I'd wait for your wings first!"

"Wings?"

"That's right."

"Yaaaaaay!"  Twilight shouted from the top of the bars.  "I'm gonna be a princess!"

"Oh dear..."  Her mother face-hoofed with an exasperated smile.  "That had better not become a phase.  I swear to Celestia."

"Don't worry."  The other mare rested a hoof on her shoulder.  "Princesses are going out of popularity lately."

Pinkie winked.  "I wouldn't bet on it."

FLAAASH!

Pinkie turned to grin across the throneroom.  "Hey Shining!  Guess what!  Twilight's a good climber!"

"Pinkie!"  Shining finished sending a pair of anxious messengers away.  He galloped over to the mare standing at Cadance's slumbering side.  "You're back!"

"I know."  Pinkie Pie nodded.  "Sometimes I'm even forward."  She pouted.  "That's when Mrs. Cake makes me sit in the corner."

"What do you remember last?"

"Uhm..."  Pinkie Pie squinted.  "A playground.  Twilight's mom and another mare.  Grilled Cheese sandwiches."

"Grilled cheese?"

"Okay.  So I made up that last part.  Heehee."  Pinkie rubbed her growling tummy.  "I'm hungry.  When's eats?"

"Pinkie Pie, this is serious!"

"I know!"  Pinkie nodded.  "Better get some baby carrots on the side!"

"I think I know what's happening to you."  Shining leaned back with a shudder.  "Because... it's h-happened to me too."

"Wait..."  Pinkie squinted.  "You mean to tell me that you've been repeatedly zapped away to the past so that you can scamper around and play foal games with an adorafilly Twilight?"

"No, it's... not quite like that."  Shining cleared his throat.  Nervously, he paced over to Cadance's side and brushed at her soft pastel tresses.  "Ever since Cadance and I moved in together, I've... experienced things."

"Hubba hubba hubbbbba..." Pinkie waggled her eyebrows.

Shining turned to frown at her.  "I'm talking about strange magical spells from out of nowhere."  He cleared his throat.  "Being the partner to an alicorn... has its curious side effects."

"Oh yeah?"  Pinkie tilted her head aside.  "Like what?"

"Well, you know that Cadance is the Royal Princess of Love, right?"

"Heehee!  Her cutie mark's not an hourglass, y'know!"

"Well, her alicorn abilities are very... very intricately connected to the power of love."  Shining gulped.  "And sometimes her magic... fires off uncontrollably.  And since I'm so close to her, I... uhh... have accidentally become the target of such random spells."

"Just how 'random' are we talking about?"  Pinkie grinned.  "I'm told that I'm quite an expert at it."

"Well, I'm a soldier, Pinkie."

"Pfft.  I'd hope so."

"I'm no magical expert like my sister Twilight.  But I know how leylines work.  Do you?"

"Totally!"  Pinkie nodded.  A few blinks later, she blushed.  "Er... wait... eheheh... I mean 'no.'  I totally don't."

"Leylines are the invisible strings that connect the essences of material and immaterial things on this plane," Shining Armor explained.  "Performing magic spells is simply the means by which we manipulate the tension of these strings and affect the world around us remotely."

"Kewl beans."

"Well... theoretically speaking—where alicorn magic is concerned—there's a second and more complicated fashion of invisible strings."

"Slinkies?"

"'Lovelines.'"

Pinkie waved a hoof.  "I knew that."

"Cadance, being the Princess of Love, is a great deal more sensitive to 'Lovelines' than the average magic-user."  Shining took a deep breath.  "After all, she first earned her wings when she discovered that there was an incorporeal connection between all living things, regardless of time or space."

"Yes, but what does this have to do with me becoming past Twilight's best friend in plushie felt form?"

"Pinkie Pie, my wife is pregnant with foal," Shining said, gently stroking Cadance's slumbering form.  "Her mental and spiritual essence is just now bonding with the new life forming inside her."  He bit his lip.  "I... I think that the closer she's getting to foaling, the more susceptible she is to reaching randomly across these invisible Lovelines and affecting others."

"And she's reached out to me and Twilight?"

"Well... she knows you as a friend, for sure."  Shining nodded.  "But Twilight?  They've had a deep bond for a very long time.  Cadance used to babysit for her, after all.  They were like sisters once.  Heck... in a way, they were like mother and daughter!"  Shining blinked.  "I think that's what triggered it!"

"You're telling me that Cadance's motherly magic powers are zapping me back into the past to be with the fuzzy little filly that she fuzzle-nuzzled?"  Pinkie Pie grinned stupidly from cheek to cheek.  "I only say this when I mean it, but... D'awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

"It wouldn't be the first time something like this happened."  Shining cleared his throat.  "Shortly after our honeymoon, she... uhm... fell unconscious like this.  And... I... I-I traveled back in time to become her teddy bear."

"Snkkkt—heeheehee!"

"It wasn't funny!"  Shining Armor frowned.  "Time Travel is no joke!  Besides..."  He fidgeted slightly.  "She was a teenager at the time... having her first crush on me.  Do you have any idea how close I came to almost accidentally messing up the time line?"

"But neither of Twi's parents seem to hear me when I talk to her!"

"It's only happened a few times," Shining said.  "Too seldom for me to get a read on how it all works.  All I know is that it takes a terrible toll on my wife."  He turned to gaze worriedly at Cadance.  "And with her this far into pregnancy, I shudder to think what a magically-induced coma could do to Cadance and our baby!"

"Well, that's a real downer," Pinkie said, pouting.  "How'd she come out of it before?"

"I can't say.  She just... woke up eventually, and I'd stop traveling back in time."  He looked up.  "And she'd have this bright pink pulse to her eyes."

"A pink pulse?"

"Yeah.  Like... her eyes would flash bright pink."  Shining gestured.  "Cadance explained that it's a sign of adoration and love between two souls caught up in the Lovelines."

"So... uhm..."  Pinkie Pie shrugged.  "How do we sever the Lovelines so you get your spouse backsies and all safesies?"

"I don't know.  And I'm not going to risk anything by trying."  Shining took a deep breath.  "That's why I've sent for Twilight just now.  She's the Princess of Friendship and Magic.  If anypony can bring my Cadance back to the waking world, it's my Twili!"

"Cool!  Did you send for her just now?"  Pinkie grinned.  "Neato!  I can't wait to tell her all about the adventures we've been having in the soft felt yesterday—"

"No, Pinkie Pie!"

"Awwwwww..."

"I mean..."  Shining Armor shuddered.  "You must play it cool."

"But I have been playing it cool!  I've been playing it cool with little Twilight!"

"No, you don't understand!" Shining Armor stamped a hoof down.  "The risks of time travel are astronomical!  Twilight Sparkle has saved Equestria countless times!  Any little thing you might do in the past—even when in possession of her doll—could snowball into terrible ramifications that would alter the state of the world today!"

"But... but..."  Pinkie sniffled, her eyes large and glossy.  "We were having so much fun together."

"I know that, Pinkie.  You're a good friend."  Shining Armor stared down at her.  "And as a good friend, you should know when it's a good time to rein in the hijinks and protect Twilight's best intere—"

FLAAASH!

"Pilot to navigator!" Twilight droned, strapping on a pair of goggles.

"Huh?"  Pinkie looked around.  She and the unicorn filly sat in a plastic bucket at the very top of a set of apartment stairs.  "Shining?"

"Shining couldn't fly today!"  Twilight turned to glare at Pinkie.  A frying pan "helmet" swiveled atop her tiny head.  "Smarty Pants, it's up to us to finish the mission!"

"Uhmmm..."  Pinkie stared down the treacherously steep steps.  "Does the mission involve a dangerous, life-and-limb threatening slide down a three-story staircase?"

"And right into enemy territory!"  Twilight tightened her goggles and leaned forward.  "Just in time to save the Book Prince from the Dragon Brood!"

"Hmmmmm..."  Pinkie rubbed her felt chin.  "Sounds super foolish and dangerous."  She blinked, smiling wide.  "Let's do it!"

"Yaaaaaay!"

Pinkie got out and pushed the bucket.  "On your mark, ace!"

"Three... two... one..."

"Contact!"

The bucket tipped over the edge of the topmost step.

"Get in, Smarty Pants!"

"Raaawwr!"  Pinkie hollered as Twilight yanked her inside.  "We bring death and polkadots from above!"

"Whoaaa—aaa—aaa—aaah!"  Twilight's cheering voice reverberated.

"Weeeeeeee!"

The bucket rocketed down the stairs, bumping into walls, banisters, and careening earthward at a suicidal speed.  At last, the filly and her stuffed friend reached the very bottom.  The bucket tipped over and the two went toppling across the carpet, plowing through a stack of books.

"Ooomf!"

"Woohoo!"  Pinkie Pie cheered.

Twilight stood up.  She sniffled... sniffled again... then dabbed her nose.  "My nose is bleeding."

"Wow!  It is!"

Twilight grinned.  "Cool!"

"Awesome!"

"Heehee!  Take that, dragon brood!"

"Yeah!"  Pinkie raspberried into the air.  "Just what have you stinkin' winged suitcases bled this morning?!"

"Quick!  We gotta find the Book Prince before they smell the hemaglobin in the air!"

"Better outrun them!"  Pinkie gasped.  "Hey!  I know!"

"What is it, Smart Cookie?"

"What do you think of time travel?"

"Good idea!  You plug my ears while I conjure a spell to get us out of here—"

FLAAASH!

Pinkie's mane settled as she stood in the throneroom once again.  "Hey!"  She smirked.  "That was easy!"  She looked over at lavender shape.  "Way to go, Twilight!"

"Pinkie Pie!"  Gasping, Twilight galloped over from where she and Shining Armor were kneeling beside Cadance.  "Omigosh omigosh!"  She hugged Pinkie close, then leaned back with a nervous expression.  "Are you okay?!"

"You know, I take it all back."  Pinkie winked.  "You're just as fuzzy now as you were then!  Heehee!"

"Pinkie..."  Twilight gnashed her teeth.  "This is no time to joke around!"

"But this material is absolutely golden!  Golden, Twilight!"

"How many times have you gone into the past, Pinkie?  Try and think!"

"Let's see.  How many times..."  Pinkie's eyes scraped the royal rafters as she licked her lips.  "Hmmmm... well, lemme put it this way.  If my fetlock had digits, I'd have counted them all by now!"

"Oh dear..."  Twilight leaned back, ears folded.  "This is worse than I thought."

"What's the matter, Twili?"  Shining asked, hugging Cadance close.

"Well, Shining, you said that the last occasion you time traveled because of Cadance's powers, it was a maximum amount of three times in a row?"

"Yes.  I do believe that's right."  Shining shuddered.  "I didn't enjoy being a teddy bear either.  Too fluffy."

"Well..."  Twilight paced about, thinking aloud.  "It would seem as if the spell wore off on its own.  But that's probably because you're Cadance's mate.  Her attraction to you brought you back to the present to stay."

"Are... you suggesting that some sort of connection between you and Smarty Pants is keeping Pinkie Pie anchored to the past?"

"Cool!"  Pinkie grinned.  "It's like sailing the ocean in a ship full of giggles and joy!"

"No, Pinkie."  Twilight frowned.  "Not cool."

"Awwww..."

"The more you're forced to go back into the past, the harder it is for your essence to return to your body here in the present!"

"And that means..."

"I don't know."  Twilight bit her lip.  "But it could mean that I... that we'd lose you forever."  She gulped hard.  "And that's not a good thing."

"And neither is my Cadance being stuck in a coma."  Shining sniffed.  "Please, Twili.  You've got to do something!"

"I-I'm not sure that I can!"  Twilight squirmed.  "Cadance is the one who unwittingly bound Pinkie Pie and my past self together with the Lovelines!  And she's not awake now to undo the spell!"

"So..."  Shining gaped.  "It's up to Pinkie Pie?"

"Me?"  Pinkie squeaked.

"You're the only one with agency here, Pinkie," Twilight said.  "Every time you go back into the past, you're forming a stronger and stronger bond with the filly me."  She bit her lip.  "And... and that bond has gotta be severed for you to return and stay here, where you belong."

"But what do I have to do?"  Pinkie grinned.  "Don't you remember?  I mean, you were there!"  A giggle-snort.  "The silly little adorable you!"

"I... I don't remember, Pinkie."

"You don't?"

"I was j-just a filly!"  Twilight cackled.  "It was far too long ago!  You understand, don't you?"

"You mean to tell me that you don't remember all of the fun things we did together?  The battles with bookmancers, goblins, and dragons?"

"I..."  Twilight shuddered.  "I just remember feeling very warm and comforted, Pinkie Pie."  A brief smile formed, but then swiftly died.  "But that all went away with foalhood."

"How come?"

"That's life, Pinkie.  And now... I-I need you to do what you can to separate yourself from Smarty Pants on your next trip."

"But... doesn't that mean separating myself from filly Twi?"

"I'm afraid so."  Twilight nodded.  "Yes."

"But... but that's so sad."  Pinkie's eyes turned glossy.  "Didn't you say that everything felt warm and comfy?"

"Yes—"

"So how could I have done something so cold?  So mean?"

"I... I don't know, Pinkie Pie."  Twilight stepped closer.  "But you'll have figured something out.  I know it.  For Cadance's sake.  For my sake."

"But... b-but..."

"Please, Pinkie Pie," Twilight said in a breathy tone.  From afar, Cadance's horn began pulsing again.  The Princess of Friendship gnashed her teeth.  "There's no time!  You must figure something out!"

"Twilight—!"

"I... I d-don't want to imagine living in a world without my sister-in-law... or... or my best fr—"

FLAAASH!

"And that's when Daring Do pulled out her trusty lasso, looped it around the gargoyle, and pulled herself safely out of the firepit before her wings could get singed by the deathly diabolical trap!" Twilight whispered, pointing a flashlight at the big printed words of her book.

"... ... ..."  Pinkie Pie blinked, snuggled up next to her beneath the duvet of Twilight's bed.  She heard crickets in the distance, along with the hushed murmur of night.  "Wowie zowie.  Gargoyles... uhm..."  She bit her lip.  "Cool..."

"Pssst..."  Twilight shook her flashlight, pointing at the next paragraph.  "It's your turn to read, Smarty Pants."

"Yeah, uhm..."  Pinkie Pie cleared her throat.  "Say, Twilight!"  She turned over.  "We're... we're best friends, aren't we?"

Twilight blinked back at her.  "Of course, Smarty Pants!  Now quick!  Continue reading!"  The filly squirmed beneath the sheets.  "I wanna find out what happens to Daring next!"

"She inspires an awesome pegasus with a broken wing to break into a hospital and wake up half the town."

"... ... ...Huh?"

"Twilight..."  Pinkie pivoted around until she was facing the unicorn squarely across the book.  Their tiny little heads formed a dual tent beneath the bed's comforter.  "We've done a lot of snazzy things together.  And it's all been very, very fun.  And... heehee... you know how much I love fun."

Twilight's bright eyes twitched.  "About as much as you love taking notes and doing homework."

"Er... right."  Pinkie coughed.  "Uhm... I know it might make me sound like a mean meanie-head, but... I think..."  She squirmed.  "That is, I feel that... mmmm..."  She squirmed some more, on the verge of tears.  "...where's a bullet when you need to bite down on it?"

"Smarty Pants, are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, totally, Twilight!  In fact, I'm the fuzziest I've felt in ages!"  She reached forward and booped Twilight on the nose with a felt fetlock.  "You're the fuzziest you've been in ages."

"Heeheehee..."

"But... I think it would be best if..."  Pinkie sighed, hanging her head.  "...if I went away for a while."

The flashlight slipped from Twilight's grasp.  Pinkie could no longer see her face—only make out a pair of glossy eyes, turning moist.  "What... wh-what do you mean... go away, Smarty Pants?"

It's not that I want to, Twi.  But... uhm... there are some super important things I gotta do elsewhere.  Important... uhm... doll plushie business.  You'll understand when you're older."

"But... I-I don't want to get older!"  Twilight sniffled.  "I want you to stay here with me!"

"Awwwwww don't say that!  It won't be that bad, really—"  All of a sudden, Pinkie brightened.  "In facccccct..."  She grinned wildly.  "It'll almost be like I never left at all!"

"Mrfff..."  Twilight rubbed her eyes.  "It will?"

"Yeah!"  Pinkie held the filly's hooves.  "I'll still be around!  It's just that... you'll have to work extra hard to welcome me back!"  Pinkie winked.  "The next time you want me to hang out with you, just use your imagination.  It may not look and sound like I'm playing games with you, but—trust me—I will be!  I'll just be spending a lot of time in your big, squishy, brilliant head!"

"But... but why?"

"Because... uhm..."  Pinkie Pie fidgeted for a few seconds.  At last, with a soft smile, she said, "Because you're as smart as they come, Twi.  And it just... wouldn't be awesome if you didn't use that snazzy brain of yours to come up with the coolest ideas possible.  In fact... I'm willing to bet that you'll imagine up things even awesomer than your felt friend with button eyes!"

Twilight pouted.  "There's nothing awesomer than you."

"Pffft."  Pinkie waved a forelimb.  "Don't let it get around, sister!  I have a reputation to protect!"

"Heeheehee!"

"Hehehehehe!"  Pinkie Pie hugged herself.  At last, with a soft sigh, she gazed adoringly at Twilight.  "You're gonna go to really cool places, girlfriennnnnd."  A wink.  "Don't let anypony tell you any different."

"When I imagine you back," Twilight murmured.  "Will you still sing the same?"

"Pffft!  Totally!  Just... uh... don't try dancing."

"Why not?"

"Trust me.  You'll know why someday."  Pinkie shrugged.  "And... at some point, when you're smart enough and old enough... I just know that you and I will get to hang out again.  But for realsies this time."  She grinned.  "And it'll be as bouncy as ever.  Even bouncier!"

"You... you promise?"

Pinkie swung her arms around.  "Cross my heart.  Hope to fly.  Stick a cupcake in my... er... b-button!"

"Heeheehee..."  Sniffling the barest hint of tears away, Twilight reached across the blanket and drew Pinkie into a tight... tight snuggly hug.  "Ohhhhhhh Smarty Pants."  She murmured into the doll's felt neck.  "I love you."

Pinkie blinked into the penumbra of the warm flashlight between them.  "You know..."  She gulped, patting Twilight's soft bangs.  "...I kinda sorta believe you, Twi..."

And just like that—

FLAAASH!

Pinkie stood in the crystal throneroom, blinking.  It was nighttime outside the royal palace's windows.  And...

"Cadance!" Shining Armor gasped.

"Huh?"  Pinkie looked over.

"Nnnngh... guh..."  Cadance stirred atop her cushions.  Her horn had stopped glowing, and she lifted her head to gaze thinly at her husband.  "Shining?  Is that you?"

The stallion crouched low, scooping his wife up in a strong pair of forelimbs.  "Oh, Cadance!  I'm so glad you're back!"

"Mmmfff..."  Cadance rubbed her tired eyes.  "I'm... glad too, I guess..."  She pouted.  "But did you have to wake me from my nap?  I'm getting shuteye for two, y'know."

"Heheheheh..."  Sniffling, Shining held her closer, kissing her face and neck repeatedly.

"Hmmmmm..."  Pinkie sighed softly.  "Now that is something worth a Polaroid."  She smiled.  "...if I knew what a Polaroid even was."

"Pinkie Pie!"  Twilight Sparkle galloped up.  "Cadance is back!  You did it!"

"Whoah!"  Pinkie wheezed, scooped up in a lavender hug.  "Heheh!  I guess I did!"

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you!"  Twilight nuzzled her close, exhaling through a wide grin.  "I was so worried!"

"What?  You, Twilight?  Worried?"  Pinkie raspberried.  "Next thing I know, you're going to tell me that Gummy is green!"

"Heeheehee..."  Twilight Sparkle leaned back.  "Just how did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get the past me to stop being so attached to you?"

Pinkie shrugged.  "Well, I didn't really.  I just told... her..."  Pinkie's words trailed off as her lips pursed.  She gawked at Twilight.

"What?"  Twilight stared back.  Her eyes flashed pink, outlining the reflection of Pinkie in her pupils.  "What's the matter, Pinkie?"  Again, that flash of pink.  "What did you tell me?"

"I... I-I..."  Pinkie looked across the throneroom.

Cadance looked over from where Shining was cuddling her.  She met Pinkie's gaze... and smiled slyly.

"... ... ..."  Pinkie exhaled.  "...I told her that I'd always be with her."

"Huh?"  Twilight's muzzle twisted, as did her voice—taking on an adorkable octave. "Well that doesn't make much sense to me."

"Heeheehee..."  Pinkie doubled over with giggles.  "Well of course, silly filly."

"Huh?"

"Say... uhhh... I know it might seem like the most awkward timing in the whole wide world of everything... buttttttttt..."  Pinkie Pie waggled her eyebrows.  "Is there a doughnut shop around here?  How about you and I grab a scrumptious bite to eat?"

"You... you mean just you and I?"  Twilight twitched.  "By ourselves?  Right now?"

"Sure thing!"

Yet again, there was that pink pulse.  Twilight's cheeks turned rosy.  "Okay... I... I think I would like that, Pinkie."

"Hmmm..."  Pinkie patted Twilight's shoulder as she led the two of them out the throne room.  "Fancy that."

"Mmmmm!"  Twilight quickly swallowed a crispy morsel of glazed dessert before downing it with a sip of hot cocoa.  She slapped her hoof across the diner's tabletop.  "And then there was that one time that I rode down the stairs in a bucket!"

"Oh realllllly?"  Pinkie Pie leaned forward from where she sat across from her in the crystalline bakery.  "You remember that, huh?"

"Yeah!  My nose bled all afternoon!  It scared the horseshoes off of Mom!"

"Heehee!  I'd pay to see that!"  Pinkie arched an eyebrow.  "Did ya have Smarty Pants with you at the time?"

"I... think?"  Twilight's lavender nose scrunched.  "Maybe?  My foalhood's all a big crazy blur."

"Heh..."  Pinkie bit into a doughnut.  "Mrmmfff... tell me about it."

"I just... can't remember where I would have gotten the nerve to had done all of those silly, crazy things on my own."  Twilight shuddered, gazing out the starlit window beside them.  "Like stealing Shining's action figures... or all those nights I stayed up late reading Daring Do books when I should have gone to bed."

"Seems like you were a real prankster in the making."

"Orrrr..."  Twilight smirked coyly at her.  "...maybe I had a little trouble-maker sitting on my shoulder."

"Well, look at how you turned out!"  Pinkie Pie waved a hoof.  "Is it such a bad thing?"

Twilight stared at her.  Her eyes pulsed pink once more.  "No.  I... I guess it's not, is it?"

"Hmmmmmmmm..."  Pinkie stared at her.

Silence.

"Uhm... eheh..."  Twilight brushed one of her bangs back, blushing slightly.  "So... crazy stuff, huh?"  She cleared her throat.  "Cadance almost falling into a coma and all?  Whew!"

"You know what I think breaks the ice in situations like this?"

"What?"

"Stupid silly Starswirl jokes!  Heehee!"

"Oh jeez..."  Twilight rolled her eyes.  "Do you ever run out of telling them?"

"Wellllll?"  Pinkie leaned forward.  "Do you ever run out of listening to them?"

Another pink pulse.  "Heheheh... fire away, Pinkie."

"Hmmmm..."  Pinkie leaned back, mane flouncing.  "Thought you'd never ask.  Ready?"

Twilight leaned forward, propping her smiling chin atop a pair of forelimbs.

"Okay..."  Pinkie winked.  "So... like... Starswirl, Clover the Clever, and the Goblin King walk into the bar."

"Aaaaaaaand?"  Twilight sing-songed.  "What does the bartender saaaaaay?"

"'Hey!  The library's across the street, ya nerds!'"

And Twilight laughed.

Again.

White out, Light in (for ArgonMatrix)

There were dozens of balconies and terraces on Canterlot Castle, which allowed for a certain degree of seclusion. Even if there were hundreds of ponies inside the castle, it wasn't difficult for anypony to find a secluded spot outdoors and look at stars. When the temperature dipped below freezing, and the stars were masked by falling snow, solitude was virtually a certainty.

Princess Cadence was thankful for that.

She couldn't exactly remember how long she had been watching the snow fall. Ten minutes would have been a reasonable guess, or fifteen; probably not more than twenty, or less than five. Does it even matter?, she thought, flicking her mane in irritation.

It would, of course. Somepony would find her, and she'd be dragged back into Princess Celestia's gargantuan Hearth's Warming party, and she'd have to continue to mingle with dozens of ponies she barely knew, and hundreds more she didn't know at all.

“Princess Cadence?”

Right on cue. Stifling a frown, Princess Cadence turned around. “Good evening, Rarity.”

Rarity tugged at an anorak scarf, head slightly tilted, clearly puzzled. “Apologies for disturbing you, Princess, but, ah...Shining Armor is in the dining hall, and he's been asking where you are.”

“Oh?”

“He's been rather insistent about it. Very...very vocal.”

“Drunk.”

Rarity's ears drooped. “Most likely, yes.”

“I'm not surprised. Between the Hearth's Warming gala and my, um... “health and well-being”, he has every right to celebrate. You don't have to listen to him if you don't want to.”

“Right! Of course!”

Silence fell.

Rarity coughed.

Princess Cadence shook her head. “But you'ld prefer it if I came back inside. Right?”

“Everypony else would, darling! We've all missed your company, and I'm sure-”

“How long did it take you to find me?”

“Me? Ten minutes, I suppose. Maybe less.”

“And the princesses didn't send anypony else?”

“Well, ah. They didn't exactly send me, either. Not that they don't care, of course! It's just that...perhaps they were so embarrassed that they forgot! Or maybe they didn't want to make a scene, and they thought that leaving the party to find you would cause a bit of a stir. Maybe some other...thing, came up. Or...some reason.”

“I see.”

Princess Cadence turned back towards the starless sky and the falling snow. “Perhaps I'll come down in a bit, Rarity. If you could give me a couple of minutes to-”

“I'm sorry, Princess Cadence.”

Cadence turned back, startled. “What? Why?”

Rarity trotted closer. “Well, I've clearly upset you, darling. I only thought that you'd enjoy yourself by spending time with the rest of Princess Celestia's guests, but I've obviously underestimated your desire for privacy.”

Cadence shook her head.“There's no need to apologize, Rarity. I'm the one who should apologize, really. Acting antisocial on today, of all days, it's...”

Silence.

Rarity pulled off her anorak scarf and held it out to Cadence. “Take this, dear. If you're going to stay out here in the cold, then it's the least that I can give you.”

“It's fine!” Princess Cadence chuckled. “If I needed a scarf, I would have brought one with me.”

“Don't you get cold?”

“In a fashion, but...not to the extent of most other ponies. Not anymore.”

“Is it...” Rarity faltered. “If you don't mind me asking, is that part of being an alicorn?”

Cadence nodded. “It is.”

“Which is a good thing, yes?”

Cadence sighed. “I suppose.”

“...is that not a good thing? Is the cold something I shouldn't take for granted?”

“Nothing like that.” Cadence shook her head. “Physically, this is wonderful. It's lovely to sit out here and watch the snow until I've lost track of the time, and never feel more than slightly chilly because of it. I rather like being an alicorn, but I suppose that's not an unconventional thought, is it?”

Rarity chuckled. “No, I'd have to agree that it isn't. Still...”

“Yes?”

“If being an alicorn is wonderful, then how does being a princess feel?”

Cadence turned away to stare at an indeterminate patch of snow, and chewed her lip for a couple of seconds.

“You knew why I was up here, didn't you?”

“I wouldn't exactly say I knew, darling. I can't know firsthoof what you've been experiencing in your life, and I can't know what you're thinking.” Rarity pulled the scarf around her neck and began layering it into place. “But you're an alicorn, and you're a princess. If something's troubling you and nopony else, then it's not unreasonable to assume that it's the sort of problem only you could really understand, yes? So I assumed that it was either an alicorn thing, or a princess thing. Or possibly both, of course.”

“It could have been something more mundane.”

“It could have! And then you might have corrected me. But it wouldn't have been very proactive of me to not guess at all, would it?”

A wan smile played around Cadence's lips. “I suppose that's fair. Still, you do realize you're asking me to complain about my life to you, right?”

“It'd be rather ungenerous of me if I didn't, dear. So – is this about the Crystal Empire? Has something happened to it?”

“Not at all, actually. Nothing's out of the ordinary, save for the usual excitement about Hearth's Warming Day. Everypony's celebrating with their families, meeting with their loved ones, that sort of thing. Happy.”

“Happy.”

“Completely, utterly and entirely.”

“You worry about them becoming unhappy, then?”

“Every day.”

“Every princess worries about that sort of thing, dear. Princess Celestia-”

“I know that Princess Celestia does. And Princess Luna, and Twil- I mean, Princess Twilight Sparkle. It's the sort of thing we should worry about, and I should take it for granted that worrying about it is a good thing, and I've tried to internalize it. I really have. I'm proud to do what I can for everypony.”

“But?”

“But it's easy to do that when it feels...not impersonal, but sort of...removed? I'm not sure I'm really articulating what I'm...trying to get across.” Cadence groaned. “You know what I'm trying to say, right?”

Rarity chuckled. “Of course, darling. Something changed, then?”

Cadence turned towards Rarity, opening her mouth as if to speak. Nothing came out. Cadence closed her mouth, swallowed, blinked, took a deep breath.

“I was.” Cadence faltered. “I was...wondering. What do you think would be a good name for it?”

“It?”

Cadence reached down, and gently patted her stomach. “Him. Her. We don't know the gender.”

“Oh!” Rarity's face softened. “I hadn't...I wouldn't know, Cadence. I'm sorry.”

“For not thinking about it? That's a silly thing to apologize for, Rarity.”

“Well...” Rarity blushed. “It's just, I...I don't think that sort of thing is in my realm of expertise, is all.”

“It isn't in mine, either. Not yet, anyway.” Cadence sighed. “I'm sure I'll figure out this sort of thing eventually.”

Silence fell once more. The wind shifted, and snow drifted between Rarity and Cadence, dotting the space between them in white.

Rarity cleared her throat, and tucked a strand of mane behind her ear. “Princess Cadence?”

“Yes?”

“Are you scared?”

“You just asked me if I worried.”

“I did. But this is different, isn't it?”

“It...yes. Yes, it's different.” Cadence rubbed her eyes. “And yes. I'm scared, Rarity.”

“Princess, I promise-”

“-everything will be fine. That's what everypony says. Everypony's completely convinced that we'll be wonderful parents, that the child will be healthy and loving and well-behaved and the pride and joy of the kingdom. They trust that I won't make any mistakes, and they-” Princess Cadence gestured wildly in the air. “They gather around their trees, and they swap their presents and eat their special dinners and sing carols and hug each other like they've never stopped loving anypony else for even a second. And if I only worried about them being happy and safe, then I'd have nothing to worry about, right? But they...they think that every Hearth's Warming will be like this, they think the Crystal Empire will never want for anything, they think that my child will be perfect, that I'll be a perfect mother, that everything will be fine.”

“Dear, it's not-”

“What if he's born damaged? What if his legs don't work, or his head isn't quite right? What if I can't carry him to term at all? What if everything goes well, but he hates his parents, or he hates everypony else, or...or what if he's sad, what if he's sad and we can't help him, if nothing can help him, and what if he's so sad that he can't take it any more and...and...”

Cadence shuddered. Snow drifted onto her face and melted, snowflake by snowflake, and trailed down her cheeks like rain on a window.

“Rarity, what if everything won't be fine?”

Rarity watched, impassive, as Cadence coughed and drew in a phlegmy gulp of air. As Cadence wiped her face with one hoof, Rarity sat down on the snow-covered terrace, face briefly wincing from the cold.

“...Princess Cadence,” Rarity replied, cocking her head to one side. “Would you mind if...would it be okay if I asked you a leading question?”

“Leading? Sure.” Cadence sat down. “Go ahead.”

“The trees. The Hearth's Warming trees, I mean. Do they just...grow in everypony's houses?”

“No. Of course they don't.” Cadence sighed. “You're going to give me a speech about effort, aren't you.”

“Of course.” Rarity pressed on, undeterred. “The food doesn't spontaneously appear on everypony's plate. The songs don't write themselves. Princess, feelings don't magically appear.”

“Wait. That last one, I mean. I thought...” Cadence trailed off. “I thought that was the point. Of Hearth's Warming. The actual, historical-”

“The historical point that happened after almost everypony froze to death on some faith-forsaken patch of ice. They didn't want to cooperate with each other before that day, and I'm almost positive they didn't get along very well afterward. It's not as if you take all of these different ponies with different thoughts and ideals and histories and just...smoosh them together, and then everypony lives happily ever after.” Rarity made a squishing gesture with her hooves. “That isn't how life works.”

“...I guess I should have realized it was just a story.”

Rarity shook her head. “I don't think it's 'just' a story, dear. Even if there isn't a magical “happily ever after” to it, they still came together and tried to make everything perfect for each other. It'd be a lot of work to make things perfect every day that we're alive. More than we'd be able to bear, really.” Rarity smiled at Cadence. “But if we had just the one, then. Wouldn't that be something?”

“Isn't that a bit...” Cadence faltered. “Isn't that like lying to ourselves? To try and make everything out like it could be perfect, even if it isn't?”

“I wouldn't call it a lie, dear. I'd call it a dream. We work every single day at trying to live, trying to be happy, trying to keep ponies close to us happy, trying to make things better for us and everypony around us. That's life. I don't think we'll ever have to not work, honestly. But if we can do a little more every day – if we could go and get a tree and decorate and tend to it indoors, if we could prepare some extra food and set it aside, if we could agonize over which present to get who, and invite the sorts of relatives over that we normally can't stand...”

“You get Hearth's Warming?”

“Exactly.”

Silence. The wind subsided, but flakes of white continued to fall around them.

“Princess?”

“Yes?”

“Did I ever tell you about my favorite Hearth's Warming day?”

“I don't think you have, no.”

“It was a few years ago. Before I met Twilight Sparkle and that whole business with the Elements of Harmony happened, actually. Sweetie Belle was sent over to Carousel Boutique for the holidays, because my “dear, sweet parents” won tickets to a Trotugan cruise. Being perfectly responsible parents, they didn't bother to tell me anything. Can you imagine? Waking up one morning, hearing a knock on your door as you're applying eyeliner, and walking outside to find your baby sister and three suitcases of luggage sitting on your doorstep?” Rarity shook her head. “Sweetie Belle had to explain everything to me. My parents didn't even bother to say hello. Cowards.”

“What did you do?”

“Panicked. Panicked for two days straight. She had to be fed, of course, and I had to completely clean up the boutique so that she didn't mess up anything important. I had to send her out to play in the snow for hours just so I could have a bit of time to work on a rush order for a Hearths' Warming Eve ball gown to some unicorn's private soirée, and then of course she came down with a cold and I had to tend to that, and then I came down with her case of the sniffles and I had to work extra hard with a head completely full of mucus. And so on, and so forth. Granted, I'm sure it's not the sort of hassle that managing an entire kingdom must be, but hopefully you'll understand what it must have felt like.”

“Absolutely! Crisis after crisis, piling up with no end in sight...”

“Exactly. But, finally, it's ten in the evening on Hearth's Warming Eve. My hooves are sore from the jabbing of errant needles and the kitchen is a mess, but the dress has been made and delivered and Sweetie Belle's been put to bed, and I'm ready to turn in for the evening. So, of course, it hits me halfway through brushing my teeth that I haven't got a present for Sweetie Belle. Ugh.” Rarity moaned, rubbing her forehead. “I just realized I've been completely monopolizing the conversation. Feel free to interrupt me at any time, dear.”

“It's fine! You're getting my mind off of things.” Cadence cocked her head, looking puzzled. “...actually, wait. You are getting my mind off things. How does this all end?”

“It ends when I stayed up until two in the morning and got woken up at five. I didn't have time to sew together something fantastic, but I'd like to believe the doll I stitched together for her was serviceable enough. Adequate. Passable.” Rarity shrugged. “In any case, she loved it. Here I was, doing my best to cobble together a breakfast and look passable in case somepony happened to show up, and she's tearing through the boutique like a lunatic in a madhouse, caroming off of walls and mannequins, lost in some utterly nonsensical adventure. For the record, dear, that part of child-raising probably isn't something to look forward to. Fair warning.”

Cadence chuckled.

“So. I've finally managed to properly shower at about...noon-ish, I think. I come downstairs, and Sweetie Belle's fallen asleep on top of a pile of paper and crayons, head lying on top of the doll. The crayons were going to make a beastly mess on her coat, and I'd have to make sure that the papers weren't ledgers or anything else important, and what I should have done was woken Sweetie Belle up right away and properly chastised her, but...but the scene.”

Rarity trailed off, staring wordlessly at Princess Cadence. Abruptly, Rarity shook her head and continued.

“I suppose I can't exactly articulate what it was about that moment, but it...fit. I was half a shade away from ragged, but she didn't have anything to worry about at all, and...and I just sort of completed life for her, at that moment. Nothing lasts forever, of course. Unfortunately.” Rarity chuckled. “She's even more of a hoof-full now than she used to be, but at the time it felt like success. After so much effort and trial, I had finally actually given somepony a happy ending. For a time, anyway.”

Princess Cadence sighed. “That's the problem, though. Nothing lasts forever. There's always something to worry about-”

“Of course there is. That's life. Life doesn't have true happy endings, not forever. But if we come together and work hard and understand why we're coming together and working hard, then we can have a happy ending for an entire day. And the memory of a happy ending? It's exactly as mortal as we are. And if we all bring our happy endings together for that one day, then isn't it all the more magical?”

“You think that's what Hearth's Warming is all about?”

“I'm not sure that everypony would believe it if I told them. I'm not sure that you do, dear. But I certainly believe it, and I'd like to believe that almost everypony believes it, deep down. Between the decorating and the baking and the socializing and the sheer effort of it all, there has to be some reason beyond gratification for only one day of leisure. And when I talked about all that effort for one day, I believe that most ponies rationally accept it as a matter of the moment, and I just as strongly believe that they implicitly store the memory of the moment. There, in their minds, they make it last forever.”

“It sounds a bit...fantastical? I'm not sure that's what it means to most ponies, Rarity.”

“I've thought a lot about happy endings. Perhaps too much, really. I used to have quite the preoccupation with Prince Charmings and Knights in Shining Armor. I suppose you have the latter, literally speaking, but it's obviously not something everypony can have.”

“He's a blessing, then? I-I mean, of course he is. I'm not discontent with that at all. With him, I mean.” Cadence sputtered. “I'm happy with him! I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Honestly.”

“He doesn't worry, though. Does he?”

“...No. He's not scared, either.” Cadence rubbed her shoulder. “Sometimes, I think I'm the only pony who ever does that sort of thing. A-and I mean, it's obviously not true, but...”

Cadence sighed.

“...your idea about Hearth's Warming. It means that I can ensure the happiness of everypony, even if in the traditional sense I can't, doesn't it? It's a beautiful idea. I want to believe it. I really do.” Cadence bit her lip. “But I don't think I'm believing it now. I'm not sure I can make myself believe something like that.”

Rarity leaned over, gently resting a hoof against Cadence's foreleg. The alicorn's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pull her leg away.

“You can't make yourself not worry, Princess. You can't make yourself not be scared. I can't truly do either of those for you, either. All I can do is give you a reason. It isn't necessarily true, and it isn't necessarily false. You can believe in it if you want to, though. If it makes sense to you, if it makes you happier, then I encourage you to do so. But I'm afraid I can't give you anything more meaningful than this.”

Rarity and Cadence looked at each other. The falling snow muffled the faint snatches of music and laughter from the castle below, and the only thing left – if it was there at all – were the remnants of the moment between them.

Eventually, Rarity pulled her hoof away, and stood up.

“I suppose I should be getting back to the gala. I wouldn't want to needlessly worry anypony. If you'll excuse me-”

“Wait. Wait!” Princess Cadence bolted upright, dislodging the snow that had gathered on her feathers. “You don't have to. Go, I mean. If you don't want.”

Rarity paused.

“Actually, ah.” Cadence paused. “It's...I suppose you could stay here, if you like. I'm not sure I'd like to go back inside, but...I wouldn't mind the company. If you wanted to keep talking.”

Rarity blinked. Abruptly, her face bloomed into a smile, and she turned back to Cadence and sat down once more.

“Fair enough. I suppose I wouldn't mind a bit of time away from the crowds, either. But I do think that I've been talking for long enough. It's your turn.”

“Me? Well, ah – what do you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever comes to mind, dear.” Rarity tilted her head, glancing at Cadence's stomach. “Perhaps the little one? What do you think would be a good name?”

Cadence grinned. “I've thought about it. Shining wants to name it after one of his characters from those roleplaying games he used to play back in school, but I've figured something more regal was in order. Hopefully, we'll be able to compromise somehow.”

“Compromise?”

“I won't give it a “cutesy” name, and he won't add “the magnificent” or “the slayer” to the name. Doubtless, I'll have to sacrifice more perfectly meaningful ideas in order to keep him from selecting completely silly ones, but it's a start.”

Rarity giggled. “Stallions! You think they'd have an ounce of common sense. Still – as of now, did you have anything in mind?”

“Well...”

And Cadence spoke, and Rarity spoke, and as they spoke to each other they lost track of the time, and the snow continued to fall.

The party continued well into the night, undaunted by weather or time; and, somewhere above it, two ponies talked, and what words they exchanged were swallowed by the blizzard: a few scant moments of speech, forever lost to everypony but them.

But in the minds of Rarity and Cadence, the words were as mortal as they were.

In their minds, the moment lasted forever.

Warming the Hearth and Warming Hearts (for M E Lovecolt)

Warming the Hearth and Warming Hearts

for: M E Lovecolt

Zecora had always considered herself to be a self-sufficient mare. She knew what roots and berries were edible in the Everfree Forest, she was a master at brewing a good kettle of tea, and she was renown by the locals as a credible source for information on cures for illnesses, both common and uncommon. She was fluent in four languages, and could recite—by memory alone— the recipes for more than fifty types of magic potions.

Despite her accomplishments, knowledge, and ability to make do with very little, there was one thing she always had difficulty in dealing with: the cold.

It was, in part, the reason she continued to reside in the Everfree, aside from having easy access to numerous rare and exotic herbs and plants for potions. The trees helped block out the harsh winter winds that blew across the snow-covered land surrounding Ponyville. She could endure snow, but bone-chilling winds were something she had little tolerance for. So as long as she was out of the wind, the long winters of Equestria were not so bad for the zebra mare.

So, as you can imagine, she was less than thrilled to venture outside on the day of Twilight Sparkle’s Hearth’s Warming Eve party. The Castle of Friendship was just north of Ponyville, only a three minute walk down a small road. Unfortunately for Zecora, Twilight’s residence was on the complete opposite side of the small community of Ponyville, not to mention she had a good twenty minute walk through the Everfree to clear as well.

Still, Zecora considered Twilight to be a good friend, and she felt it was only right that she pay the young alicorn a visit for once instead of the other way around. Besides, she had a few small gifts to give to friends of hers that lived in town, and now was as good as any to deliver them. With any luck, she would see most of her friends at the castle as well, and be able to give the gifts to them personally.

Currently, Zecora was wrapping herself in a thick wool scarf that Granny Smith had made for her as a thank you gift after helping the Apples last year with a particularly bountiful crop of Zap Apples. She had insulated winter boots on her hooves, and a heavy cloak to shield her body from the winds. With a determined nod, she picked up her heavy, gift-filled saddlebags, slipped her insulated flask of piping hot tea in one of its pockets, and made her way out of her hut.

She let out a sigh as the cold hit her, puffs of warm air lifting escaping her lips as she began her long journey through the snow-laden path leading out of the Everfree.

“Perhaps I should have put on another layer or two. I fear that what I have on right now just will not do.”

Stopping abruptly, she turned around and made her way back inside her home. A minute passed before she exited her hut once more, now wearing a bright blue knitted hat, courtesy of Rarity, who insisted on giving it to Zecora a week before the first snowfall, stating that no friend of hers should go without something to cover their heads in the winter.

That and, according to Rarity, the hat’s color matched the color of Zecora’s eyes perfectly.

Along with the hat, she was now sporting a wool sweater that made her body itch a little, but provided more insulation than her cloak had by itself.

With a renewed sense of determination and the reassurance of keeping warm, Zecora once more started down the familiar path leading out of the forest and towards Ponyville. She was immediately thankful for her foresight in putting on her, for she had only gone a minute down the path when some snow had sloughed off a branch and plopped noisily onto her head. Grumbling a few obscenities in her native language, she shook off the cold weight from her head and continued onward, wishing she had purchased some of those snowshoes that she remembered hearing about.

Her trek through the forest took her twice as long as it normally would have thanks to the snow. By the time she had made it out of the forest into the fields and hills surrounding Ponyville, she had drunk more than half of her tea and her legs were feeling more than a little stiff.

Still, the sight of Ponyville in the distance warmed her heart a bit. She was glad to see that somepony had decided to clear a small path leading into town from the forest’s edge, and made a note to herself to find out who had done so that she could properly thank them later.

As she entered the town, she was greeted by the sight of decorative candy canes, wreaths, festive lights of all colors, and ornaments that covered windows and trees throughout town. While she didn’t know the significance behind some of the decorations and their relation to this time of year, she did enjoy the atmosphere they seemed to bring. Much like her home country, Equestrians had a love for bringing life and color into their celebrations, and Hearth’s Warming was no exception to this.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Zecora,” called out a voice.

Zecora turned to the voice, a smile crossing her lips as she saw Mayor Mare approaching her. “Hello, Mayor Mare, and a Happy Hearth’s Warming to you as well. You and the townsfolk really outdid yourselves on the decorations, that much I can tell.”

“Oh, well, we try to get into the spirit of the holidays as best as we can,” she noted Zecora’s heavy saddlebags and smiled sympathetically. “Looks like you’re a little overburdened for this kind of weather. Are you alright carrying all that weight?”

Zecora chuckled, “Thank you, but you need not worry, for they are not as heavy as they may appear to be. In fact, I can lighten it a little right now with a gift for you, made personally by me.” She dug into her saddle bag, producing a ceramic mug made of a brilliant emerald clay and covered in a fine gloss finish. What was unique about it was that it had a matching ceramic cover to go along with it, attached by a hinge so that it could be flipped open. “I remember you saying how you enjoy your morning brew before work but never have time to finish before it gets too cold for your taste. I crafted this this clay mug so that it will insulate your drink better, and keep it warm longer so that it won’t go to waste.”

Mayor Mare smiled brightly at that. “Oh, Zecora, you shouldn’t have!” She studied the mug, and her smile widened as she noticed her cutie mark etched into the side. “This is truly generous of you, thank you!” Her smile slipped a bit. “I feel a bit ashamed, though. I don’t have a gift to give you in return…”

“Think nothing of it, that is not what the holidays are all about. I am happy with or without a gift, that you need not doubt.”

The older mare smiled softly and pulled Zecora in for a hug. “We’re lucky to have a wonderful mare like you living here, Zecora. If you should ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask me for help.”

“Well, I suppose you could tell me who was responsible for clearing a path from the forest’s edge to the town, then? Without it, I cannot imagine how hard travelling the hills and fields would have been.”

“Ah, yes, that would have been Fluttershy’s idea, if I recall correctly. She said something about you taking that path whenever you go into town or head back into the Everfree. She suggested that the town keep a path clear so you wouldn’t have as much trouble.” Her smile wavered a bit. “Going into the forest itself was something I’m afraid nopony was willing to do, unfortunately.”

“No need to apologize, I appreciate what has already been done. I’m not a fan of the cold, and two feet of snow to walk through is not much fun.” She laughed a little as Mayor Mare gave her a sympathetic nod while shivering. “I’m afraid I must be on my way now though, for as you can see, I have many other gifts to give in tow.” She gestured to her saddlebags.

“Of course. Take care, Zecora, and stay warm. Happy Hearth’s Warming!”

Zecora continued through town, her heart a little lighter and a little more spring in her step. She even felt a little warmer in the chest, and it wasn’t from the sip of tea she had shortly after her conversation with the mayor.

She stopped at a brightly colored building with a cupcake adorning its roof. She smiled, and gently opened the door. She scraped her hooves on the thick mats before the doorway, and sighed contentedly as the warmth of the building wrapped around her. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted through the air, along with a variety of other welcoming smells. While she didn’t visit Sugarcube Corner that often, she did indulge in a sweet or two on her rare visits to Sugarcube Corner while in town.

Mrs. Cake poked her head in from the kitchen, carrying Pumpkin Cake on her back. The co-owner of the sweet shoppe and bakery beamed at the sight of Zecora standing in her doorway. “Oh, well hello, Zecora! I didn’t expect you to be here.” She looked at the clock. “Can I get you anything? Carrot Cake and I are taking the twins with us to see some relatives in Fillydelphia in a few hours, but we still have an hour before we close up.”

Zecora shook her head and dug into her bags once more. “I only wished to stop by to give you and your family these gifts, so I shall not be too long.” She produced two books and set them on the counter for Cupcake to see. “This book has many baking recipes from my homeland, and this one contains many nursery rhymes as well as some fairy tales and songs.” She glanced at Pumpkin Cake as she continued, chuckling as Pumpking gave her a wide smile.

“Zecora, I…” she gave the mare a soft smile. “Thank you. Here, hold on a moment.” She disappeared into the kitchen once more, and a few minutes later returned with a steaming cup of hot cocoa. “Carrot Cake loves having a kettle of cocoa ready at all times around this time of year, so I don’t see the harm in sharing with a friend like you.” She set the mug on the counter. “It’s not much, but consider it on the house. Oh, here, have this, too.” She placed a large loaf of sweet bread on the counter and began to cover it in some wrapping paper used for clients taking sweets on the go. “It’s not too sweet, so I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s a spiced sweet bread that my mother taught me to make when I was a filly. If you want, I can share the recipe with you some time, too.”

Zecora, who had happily began to sip her cocoa, offered Cupcake a nod and a cheery smile. “A warm brew and a something sweet from you is always a welcome treat. To be honest, I’m a bit sore, would you terribly mind if I take a seat?”

“Oh, not at all. We’re already packed, but the train to Fillydelphia doesn’t leave for a bit, so we’re not in any rush.” Cupcake adjusted Pumpkin Cake on her back as she went on. “Carrot Cake is just doing some last minute deliveries in town before we head out, and Pound Cake is still napping, unlike a certain little lady.” She gave Pumpkin Cake a smile as the unicorn foal began to suck on her hoof.

“Little Pumpkin has grown quite a lot since I last saw her, I’m really surprised.” Zecora gave Cupcake a knowing smile, and added. “Has she got into any mischief yet, or at the very least tried?”

Cupcake let out a weary sigh, but her smile never left. “Yes, yes, she and her brother seem to have a fascination for getting into our bags of flour. They like to dump it onto their heads for some reason, and find it amusing to no end.” She chuckled as she gave her daughter a nuzzle. “If it didn’t create such a mess everytime, I’d find the sight of them giggling like that adorable. Isn’t that right, my little Pumpkin?”

Pumpkin Cake replied with a string of babbling before lovingly hugging the nape of Cupcake’s neck.

“Pumpkin, sweetie, why don’t you say thank you to Zecora for the gifts?”

Pumpkin Cake looked to Zecora, and held out her hooves towards her. Cupcake giggled and looked to Zecora with a soft smile. “It looks like she’s in a hugging mood today.”

Zecora chuckled in turn before walking around the counter and allowing Pumpkin Cake to give her a heartfelt embrace.

“Suh-cora…” Pumpkin said, returning the nuzzle.

Zecora’s eyes widened as she looked from the filly to Cupcake.

“Well, I’ll be…” Cupcake whispered, letting her smile grow.

“I…” Zecora found herself speechless for a moment, surprised by the unexpected display of affection. She managed to come back to her senses and chuckled softly. “I am happy you like my gift. Seeing you smile makes my journey here worthwhile, through the chilly winds and snow drifts.” She gave the filly a final nuzzle before giving her back to her mother.

The next few minutes passed with Zecora enjoying her cocoa while Cupcake looked over the fairy tale book with Pumpkin Cake, the little filly studying the pictures on the pages with wide-eyed wonder all the while.

“I’ll have to be going now if I wish to not be late for Twilight’s party tonight. I had best hurry, lest I lose what little remains of the waning daylight.” Zecora sighed while giving the mother and daughter a fond smile. “I do hope you and your family have a wonderful Hearth’s Warming, Cupcake. The next time I’m in town, I’ll be sure to stop by and visit for a short lunch break. This sweetened spice bread smells heavenly, and I may indeed have to take up the offer for your mother’s recipe.”

“Alright, Zecora, I’ll be sure to have the recipe ready for you when you next visit, then. If you see Pinkie Pie at the castle, be sure to let her know we’ll be back in town before the end of the year, would you?”

“I’m sure I will be seeing Pinkie Pie at the party, so I’ll be sure to let her know.” She turned towards the exit and let out a heavy breath. “Wish me luck, Cupcake, for I must once more go out and brave the treacherous snow.”

Cupcake laughed. “Take care, Zecora. Have a wonderful holiday!”

The cheerful atmosphere of Ponyville was palpable to her as she passed through the center of town. She couldn’t help but let a smile form across her chapped lips whenever she greeted a friend, be it Lyra and Bonbon taking a walk through the snow-covered park, Mister Waddle refilling a feeder for the overwintering birds, or greeting rosy-cheeked Cheerilee and Junebug as they enjoyed a cup of eggnog while sitting under the overhang of the former’s front porch.

She was beginning to wish that she had involved herself with the town’s from the very beginning back when she had first moved to the Everfree Forest. Though, she was fairly certain that if it weren’t for a certain red-maned filly and a studious unicorn-turned-alicorn and her friends, she may very well still be spending the holidays in her hut, curled up in a warm blanket and just enjoying a good book and cup of herbal tea to chase off the cold.

Truly, she owed Twilight Sparkle and her friends, as well as Apple Bloom, a lot. While the circumstances of their first meeting may have not been a friendly social call, they had quickly wormed their way into her heart, and become some of the first friends she had made since she moved to Equestria.

As her mind drifted towards thoughts of her friends, the wind began to pick up. She tightened her scarf with a firm tug from a foreleg, and squinted as gust of wind kicked up some of the powdery snow into the air. She was now just outside of town, and could see the crystalline castle of Twilight Sparkle gleaming in the waning sunlight. It was like a welcoming beacon to her, and she picked up her pace once more.

She was a bit surprised when the ornate double doors of the castle entrance opened up as she approached the steps, and was greeted by a short, bundled up figure with two bright, green eyes.

“Heya, Zecora! Happy Hearth’s Warming!”

Zecora raised a curious eyebrow, though her mind quickly recognized the voice belonging to Ponyville’s resident dragon. “Ah, hello young Spike, I apologize, but I didn’t recognize you for a moment beneath all those layers. Not that I can blame you; I too am not much of a lover of the frigid winter air.”

The dragon laughed goodnaturedly. “Heh, yeah, scales aren’t good at keeping heat in compared to thick winter coats.” He leaned in, and pulled down the scarf covering his face, whispering just loud enough to be heard over the wind. “I know she can’t help it, but Twilight’s always had a problem with leaving hair all over the place during the winter time and spring when she’s shedding her coat. It’s been crazy-hard trying to keep the castle clean with her fur getting all over the place. I mean, it’s not even spring, why is she shedding fur already?” He paused for a moment to glance over his shoulder, and then added. “Um… could you not mention that I told you all of that to Twilight or anyone else?”

Zecora let a smirk cross her lips. “Your secret is safe with me, Spike, of that you can be assured. I shall not tell another of your confession; not a single word.” She stiffened a bit as a particularly harsh wind blew past. “As much as I do love to chat, though, would it be alright if I come inside? This blistering cold is getting to me, and I fear I may learn firsthoof what it’s like to have a frost-bitten hide.”

“Oh, yeah, come on in!” Spike opened the door fully and ushered her in with a gloved hand. Once she was inside, Spike closed the doors and threw off his scarf. “Twilight’s got the fireplace going, and almost everyone is already here. We were getting worried that you wouldn’t show up, actually.”

“Yes, forgive me, but I was visiting others while passing through Ponyville. During this time of year it’s hard not to stop and share holiday cheer and goodwill.”

“Heh, I hear ya,” Spike replied with a nod as he pulled off his coat and hat, leaving only his scarf on. “Everyone’s in the dining hall. I can take your coat and stuff and hang them up for you, if you want.”

“Thank you, that would be a great help—oh, and here’s your gift before I forget.” Zecora dug into her bag, producing a small box wrapped in festive colors. “The comic book store owner said this was the most popular one in the set.”

Spike took the box, and gave Zecora a curious look. She urged him to open it with a smile, and he did so. His eye lit up as he pulled out a small figurine depicting a mare in a heroic looking costume. “This… t-this is the limited edition Zapp from the Power Ponies Fifth Generation Collectibles Series! You had to reserve one of these like… months before it was available on shelves! H-how did you get this?!”

Zecora smiled proudly. “When one shops around and haggles as much as I do, you tend to develop a very keen eye. I must admit, while I’m not familiar with these comic books, I could tell it was a very good buy—”

Zecora was cut off as a pair of scaly arms wrapped around her frame. She recovered quickly, and gave Spike a hug with a free foreleg.

“Thanks, Zecora. I know it’s kind of silly, but this means a lot. I… I try not to collect a lot of things, because, well… you know how dragons get with hoarding things, but…” He held the figurine fondly. “This is awesome. I mean it. Thank you.” He let go of her, only to gently tug on her leg. “C’mon, I’ll let everyone know you’re here, then I can give you your gift from Twilight and I.”

As Zecora made her way into the castle with, Spike carrying her cloak and winter clothes in hand, she could pick up the faint sound of laughter and talking. She could immediately pick out several familiar voices, the loudest being a trio of fillies that she had come to associate with preventing Ponyville from ever becoming too dull of a place.

Then, as if on cue, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle poked their heads out of the entrance into the dining hall, their eyes lighting up upon seeing Zecora.

“Zecora!” they cheered in unison, galloping towards the mare to greet her.

“Hello, Cutie Mark Crusaders, I hope you three are doing well,” she greeted in kind. Her eyes widened for a moment as she took in the three fillies’ faces, and bit down a giggle as she added. “It appears you three have already partaken in the holiday treats, from what I can tell…”

“Huh?” Scootaloo asked, voicing the thoughts of her two friends, who shared perplexed looks.

Zecora motioned with a hoof to her muzzle, then pointed a hoof at them.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle both had dollops of whipped cream on their muzzles while Apple Bloom had some sprinkles flecked across her lips.

“O-oh!” Sweetie Belle was quick to wipe away her muzzle with a napkin she happened to have on hand while Scootaloo and Apple Bloom merely wiped their faces with a hoof. “Yeah, that was from the hot cocoa,” Sweetie Belle replied.

Apple Bloom stepped forward. “We’re so glad you could make it, Zecora! C’mon, there’s a whole bunch of food you gotta try!”

“Rarity says we can’t drink the eggnog though. Something about it being for grown-ups only,” Sweetie Belle added.

“Yeah, I don’t get it, I’ve had eggnog plenty of times before and never got in trouble for it,” Scootaloo said with a pout.

“That’s because this eggnog has brandy in it. Applejack said so,” Apple Bloom explained.

“What’s brandy?” Scootaloo asked. “Does it taste good?”

“I don’t think so, since only adults can drink it.”

“Yeah, most adult things don’t taste very good,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “There’s still lots of other things to eat and drink, though!” she added with a hop. Before Zecora could get another word in, the three fillies dashed back into dining hall, likely to announce her arrival.

Spike, who had been trailing behind Zecora, sighed loudly. “You’d think after they got their cutie marks that they’d mellow out a bit…”

“Now, now, Spike, there’s no need to be so moody,” Zecora said, giving the dragon a light nudge with a hoof. “Especially not during the holidays, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Heh, yeah, I suppose. They’re not so bad, I guess.” Spike hung up Zecora’s cloak and winter attire on a coat rack by the door. “Wish they’d stop trying to hang holly over my head, though. I mean, it’s not even the right plant! Mistletoe has white colored berries, not red!”

When the two finally entered the dining hall, it was like stepping into a whole other world. It was as though someone had tried to cover every possible inch of available space in decorations. There was tinsel hanging from the crystal chandeliers, the windows had been covered in what appeared to be decorative paint meant to mimic frost, and there was pine tree branches hanging from the ceiling, tied together with long red ribbons, holly, and lights.

“Zecora!”

The zebra mare looked towards the crowd gathered in the dining hall, immediately spotting Twilight Sparkle amongst them.

“Tell her the sweater looks nice,” Spike whispered to Zecora.

Zecora gave him a confused look.

Spike just nodded.

Zecora turned back to Twilight, and immediately understood what Spike was talking about. Twilight was wearing a colorful sweater. While most of it was red and white with festive images of snowflakes and candy canes, the front depicted what appeared to be six ponies standing in front of a colorful green tree. Upon closer inspection, she was able to make out the six ponies to be none other than Twilight Sparkle and her close friends.

“Oh,” Twilight beamed happily as she noticed Zecora’s gaze on her sweater. “Do you like it? Princess Luna gave it to me as a Hearth’s Warming present yesterday when I visited Canterlot!”

“It…” Zecora chose her next words carefully. “It is a rather unique, festive design. Y-yes, indeed, I think it is quite fine.” She offered Twilight a weak grin.

“Well, thank you! Princess Luna worked very hard on making it. She was excited to try her hoof at sweater-making after Princess Celestia told her festive sweaters are very popular during Hearth’s Warming.”

Zecora had a feeling that the Sun Princess may have been using the term ‘popular’ in an ironic sense, but seeing how much Twilight liked her sweater, she just didn’t have the heart to say anything to the young alicorn.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here!” Twilight gestured to the fireplace in the far corner of the hall, where everyone was gathered. They made their way towards the others as she went on. “We’ve got tons of food and drink, so help yourself. We were also thinking of going out to do some caroling in a little bit if you want to join us. Rainbow Dash said the wind was supposed to die down soon, and there’s no more snowfall scheduled until next week.”

While Zecora was tempted to simply stay indoors, the opportunity to enjoy time with friends was far more appealing to her. “I’m afraid I’m not that skilled in the way of song, but I would still enjoy tagging along.”

“Oh, that’s silly, Zecora, anyone with a voice can sing!” Pinkie Pie appeared before Zecora, wearing a long stocking cap with bells on the end. “Besides, with how good you are at rhyming, I bet you’ll do fine!”

“Yeah, and even if you can’t sing that well, there’s enough of us here to cover for you,” Rainbow Dash added.

“Rainbow Dash, there’s no need to be rude,” Rarity said with a sniff. “Don’t mind her, Zecora, I’m sure you have a perfectly lovely singing voice.”

“Yeah, and besides, it’s about the spirit of the holiday that matters, not how off-key you are!” Applejack added, walking up to Zecora and offering her a plate of food. “Here you go, Zecora. Got a little bit of everything for you to choose from. Granny Smith made us some apple pie. She’d be here to give it to you personally if she didn’t have to be up early tomorrow. We’re having Pinkie’s family over tomorrow for a big ol’ family gathering, so she needs all the rest she can get, and Big Macintosh needs to be up early to help out. He’s always helped her prepare the big Hearth’s Warming meals in our family.”

In short order, Zecora joined the girls with her plate of food of warm food. As she ate, the girls swapped stories of past Hearth’s Warmings. At some point, the topic of Hearth’s Warming itself was brought up, and Twilight went into an abbreviated tale of the foundation of Equestria and the Fire of Friendship that supposedly chased away the cold and the dreaded Windigoes.

After finishing her meal, the group had a small gift exchange. Amidst the the thank yous, hugs, and laughter, Zecora couldn’t help but feel that sensation of warmth flood through her again, and she was fairly certain it wasn’t from the hot cider she had been sipping.

“Alrighty, everypony, let’s get out and do some caroling!” Pinkie declared happily as she threw on a scarf and boots. “Come on, the sooner we get out there, the sooner we can get to singing!”

Zecora looked out a window overlooking Ponyville. Thoughts of the snow and cold sent an involuntary shiver throughout her body.

“Um, Zecora, are you alright?” asked the soft voice of Fluttershy. When Zecora turned to meet her gaze, Fluttershy added. “I just… noticed you were looking outside, and had a really… serious look on your face.” She took a step back. “Y-you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I was just concerned. I… sorry if I bothered you…”

“No need for apologies, Fluttershy, I was merely thinking about the cold. I am not very fond of it, as I’m sure you’ve been told.” She smiled knowingly, and added. “I heard that a certain pegasus suggested that a path be cleared between the Ponyville and the Everfree. Now, tell me, who could that pony possibly be?”

Fluttershy hid her face between a lock of her mane as a bashful smile crossed her lips. “I-I just thought that it would be nice to make it easier for you to travel during the winter. I know you’re not a fan of winter, so I figured it was only right to give you some help, seeing as you live in the Everfree.”

Zecora nodded. “Well, Fluttershy, I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness. It was a splendid surprise to receive as I exited the forest earlier today, I must confess.”

“Oh, well, I’m just glad I could help.” Fluttershy’s own smile grew. “Thank you again for those vegetable seeds, by the way. I’m sure Angel Bunny and the rest of my little animal friends will enjoy fresh vegetables from the garden this summer.”

“Hey, you two slowpokes coming or what? Spike’s already done getting his winter stuff on, and he’s wearing three layers of clothing and a coat!”

Fluttershy giggled and called out to Rainbow Dash, “We’ll be right there.”

Zecora cast another wary glance outside. “I wish I could be even half as eager as Rainbow Dash and the others. After all, zebras like myself have thinner fur, and lack any insulating feathers.”

“Oh I know how you feel. Most pegasi don’t mind the cold too much, but I sometimes wouldn’t mind bundling up in some blankets and just hibernating with my animal friends.” She giggled at the thought. “Don’t worry, Zecora, we’ll be sticking close together, and Rainbow Dash said the wind should have died down by now.”

Fluttershy had a point, and to be honest, Zecora didn’t mind the idea of being out in the snow too much… so as long as she had her insulating boots and scarf on.

Caroling turned out to be a rather enjoyable experience. While Zecora wasn’t familiar with most of the songs the group sang, the girls made no comment about it, instead just enjoying having her company. It was a wonderful cultural experience for her, at the very least, much like the first Nightmare Night celebration she participated in.

She did feel a little for Spike a little bit. The poor dragon was wrapped up so tight that he had trouble keeping up with the rest. Eventually, Twilight ended up placing him on her back to save him from falling face down into the snow and struggle to get back to his feet.

The other denizens of Ponyville would listen as their group would sing, oftentimes joining in as well. Even as it got later into the evening, Zecora found herself not minding the cold as much as she had thought she would. Perhaps Twilight was right when she said that the weather wouldn’t be that bad.

That or perhaps there was a bit of truth to that old mare’s tale about the Fires of Friendship. Maybe… maybe there was some greater power behind friendship, something that lit a fire in the hearts of those who welcomed others into their lives. Was it just during the holidays that this fire blazed to life, though?

“Zecora, how are you doing?”

Zecora was shaken from her thoughts by Twilight, who had walked up beside her as they made their way through town.

“I am doing well, Twilight, though… I feel I have a question that needs asking, although it is a tad embarrassing.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Zecora. You’re a wise and knowledgeable friend, but nopony knows everything.” She placed a gentle hoof on Zecora’s shoulder. “What’s your question?”

“You mentioned in your story about Equestria’s founding about a friendship that took the form of flame. I noticed while we have been out and about that the cold doesn't bother me anymore… could this warmth possibly be the same?”

Twilight quirked an eyebrow for a second, only for her eyes to widen. “Oh! The Fires of Friendship? Hm… well, I don’t see why not. We’re friends with you, and Hearth’s Warming does tend to bring friends and family closer together. Even Spike’s been telling me that the cold isn’t bothering him as much… though it might just be that he’s trying to look tough in front of Rarity.” She cast a sideways glance towards her assistant, who was currently talking with said fashionista.

“I know much about various types of magic, and friendship indeed possess great power. Still, could such a power really be keeping me warm at such a late, cold hour?”

Twilight smiled. “It’s worth looking into, but for now? I think you should just enjoy yourself, Zecora. As the Princess of Friendship, I can say this much: friendship is something is hard to contain or define in one singular term as far as magical studies go. It varies from individual to individual, but there is one constant that it requires.”

Zecora’s own frown morphed into a smile as she gave a nod. “Friendship indeed only requires one constant to endure. It requires one to have good friends, of that I am sure.”

“Precisely,” Twilight said. “Anyway, I think it’s okay to believe that friendship could very well be responsible for you feeling warmer. In Rainbow Dash’s case, though, I think she’s all warm in the cheeks because she had too much eggnog, but that’s besides the point.” Twilight nodded towards the others. “I know the trip back to your hut is long, so you’re welcome to stay at my castle for the evening, Zecora, as well as anytime you visit. You’ve helped me a lot through the years, and you’ve always been there to provide me with advice when I needed it. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“Your offer is kind, and I accept it wholeheartedly. I’d rather not travel back at night while the paths are cold and icy,” Zecora replied.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of singing, dancing, snowball fights, and general jubilation. Throughout it all, Zecora had come to at least one conclusion: she could endure even the coldest of winters, so as long as she had good friends to share her time with.

End

People, Ponies, Particularities and Parallels (for shortskirtsandexplosions)

People, Ponies, Particularities and Parallels

====================

“Really, little dolls instead of stockings. That is fascinating. I wonder how that tradition came to be. Stockings were originally hung by the fire to dry overnight, but why would you want to put dolls on the hearth?”

Sunset lifted a hand to her mouth, covering a yawn as Twilight continued to babble rhetorical questions to herself. School had been let out for the winter break hours ago, yet here she and Twilight remained, haunting the library well after dark. Why? It wasn’t for a school assignment or any magical problem. It was because she had mentioned something about going back to Equestria for part of the holiday, to celebrate Hearthswarming.

Just mentioning the holiday was all it took. Twilight was learning about friendship, but she still wanted to understand more about magic and Equestria as a whole. Her ever growing research into the similarities and differences between the two worlds had become almost an obsession. Whenever Princess Twilight came over, human Twilight would have a stack of new questions. Thankfully, the information between the two of them was flowing both ways. Princess Twilight was just as curious about the human world.

They wanted to try and find the “crucial” differences as they called them, the things that defined the two worlds and set them apart and would help them predict other differences. Some were easy to find: humans instead of ponies, a lack or abundance of magic. Some were more puzzling. Both Twilight’s were still puzzled why Celestia and Luna were princesses in one world and just principles in another. 

Usually, Sunset had a mild interest in the subject too, but she had also learned to be more careful when mentioning things about Equestria to Twilight. This wasn’t the first time she had been pulled into this kind of intense interview about some subject she had mentioned off hand, and Sunset doubted it would be the last.

She just wished she hadn’t done it on the last day of school before the start of winter break.

“Are there any other differences you can think off?” Twilight asked as she was flipping through her notes. “I mean, Hearthswarming is so similar to Christmas it's shocking. The decorations, the meals, the presents, yet the reason behind the holiday is entirely different. Not only that, but the nuances. The little changes, like a lack of Santa Claus or the use of dolls instead of stockings. It’s like the holidays themselves follow the same guidelines as the people and ponies: similar but different. I wonder if I compared world histories similar parallels could be drawn?”

A march-step trumpet fanfare cut the silence of the library, making Twilight flinch before quickly reaching for her phone. “It’s that late already. Wow, time sure flies when you're delving the mysteries of parallel worlds.”

“Yeah, where did the time go?” Sunset asked as she stood up from her chair and stretched, a few of her vertebrae popping in response. “When did you change your ringtone, by the way?”

Twilight finished shuffling her notebooks and pens into her backpack, and slipped it over her shoulders before starting to walk towards the door with Sunset. “Oh, that’s just the special ringtone I use for Shining Armor. He’s picking me up to give me a ride home today. I’m just lucky he was on a date with Cadance, otherwise we wouldn’t have time for all this.”

“How is that going for him?” Sunset asked as they left the library and moved into the school’s hallways, their footsteps echoing off the vacant corridors. “I mean, we both know the pony Cadance and Shining are already married, so I imagine their hitting it off.”

“They really are connecting, and I think they may have started dating earlier if their situations were different. Though it’s another point of data that somewhat proves my theory that the pony world is a few years ahead of this one. All of our friends’ pony counterparts are already living and working largely independently, but we’re all still in high school. Also, I believe Princess Twilight told me the pony Cadance and Shining started dating in high school, and—”

As the pair neared the foyer of the school, Twilight’s phone rang again with Shining’s ringtone. This time, instead of just glancing at a notification, Twilight tapped on the touch-sensitive surface and then brought the phone to her ear. “Hey, Shining, are you outside? Sunset and I are just coming out the doors. Wait… you’re not… is it really snowing that bad?”

Twilight and Sunset rounded the corner, the school’s front doors in view. Through the glass, they could see a swirling, howling blizzard, with snow packing up against the front of the school. Twilight moved quickly to the door, placing her hand on the glass. “I didn’t even… Sunset and I were doing something in the library. I saw the storm through the skylight, but I didn’t think…” She turned and leaned her back against the door, then cringed and stepped away from the cold surface. “So what’s the plan? All right. I’ll figure something out here, and text you when I have a plan.”

Twilight ended the call and slipped her phone into her backpack. “Shining’s stuck at Cadence’s because of the storm, and my parents can’t come get me either. The roads are just too dangerous.” She glanced over at Sunset, forcing a smile. “I don’t suppose…”

Sunset rolled her eyes and fished her winter gloves out of the interior of her coat before zipping it closed. “Like you have to ask. I’m not going to leave my friend stranded with nowhere to go in this storm.”

~~~

“Oh sweet, merciful Celestia,” Sunset said a half hour later, her and Twilight rushing through the door to her small apartment. Both of them were visibly shivering. Snow had frozen to their shoes, socks, and pants. Everything from their shins down was chilled and numb. Thankfully, Sunset’s apartment was toasty and warm, the central heating successfully combating the cold. Sunset felt her face tingling as she worked to strip off her shoes.

“This is nice,” Twilight said through her chattering teeth as she followed Sunset’s lead. “I guess I never thought about where you’d be living when you came over.”

“Rarity made a fuss about it a while back, before we met you,” Sunset said. She took a seat in a desk chair near the door as she freed her feet from her damp, frozen socks. She tossed the socks over where she had left her shoes, then began inspecting her toes for any sign of frostbite. “She feared I was living in some halfway house or something, but I came over from Equestria a bit more prepared than that. The gemstones that grow like potatoes in Equestria’s magical soil go for a lot of money here in the human world. It took some time to find a landlord that would lease to me without doing a full background check, but Mrs. Baker was sweet enough to give me a chance. That and I think she has obsession with gemstones. I asked her if I could pay her once with a sapphire, since I didn’t have time to get it sold, and I think she nearly had a heartattack.”

Satisfied none of her toes had turned blue, Sunset tried to shake some of the snow off her pants before standing up. “Here, let me give you the tour. This is the main room. Through that door is a bathroom, and that’s about it,” she said with a chuckle, looking over her studio apartment.

The nice warm colors of the space were reminiscent, appropriately enough, of a Sunset, though the space was accented with festive greens, red, silvers, and golds. On Sunset’s work desk was a tiny, foot tall tree, and garland had been strung across the shelves of her bookcase. It was minimal compared to some of her decorations in her friend’s home, but it had always been enough for her.

“Here, sit down on the couch and I’ll make us something warm to drink,” Sunset said as she began to stride towards the left hand wall of the apartment, where her kitchen was. “Would you like coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate please.” Twilight moved over and took a seat on Sunset’s two-person couch, which faced her bookcase. There was a notable lack of a television, though there was a line of DVD movies on the bookcase that would work with the computer on Sunset’s desk.

“You want any whip cream on that?” Sunset said as she pulled the hot chocolate powder from her cupboards. “I’ve may not have the same stockpile Pinkie Pie has, but I have enough for a few mugs.”

“Just a little,” Twilight said she turned her head slowly, taking in the space. “So you’ve been taking care of yourself the whole time you’ve been in the human world?”

“Yep. You said it yourself, Equestria seems to be a few years ahead, so I was already used to it. I’ll admit, I wasn’t fond of having to get a studio apartment when I first got here, but this place has grown on me.” She place a tiny pot on the stove, poured milk into it, and began heating it up. She did have a microwave, but its handle was dusty from lack of use. As the milk warmed, Sunset spooned the dry chocolate powder into a pair of mugs. “I just realized, I haven’t seen Spike all day. Did you leave him at home?”

“He had a vet appointment today my father was going to take him too. Just needed to get some booster shots, nothing serious.”

Sunset nodded her head, continuing to focus on making the hot chocolate. “Well, guess he was the lucky one. Have your parents found out he can talk yet?”

Sunset heard Twilight shift, getting up from the couch for some reason. “No, he’s been pretty good about buttoning his lip when he isn’t at school. I was actually planning on tell them over this winter break. It will be harder for Spike to stay quiet if we’re at home most of the day, and that’s really not fair to him. That and my parents didn’t freak out too much when Principal Celestia told them what happened the day of the Friendship Games. If they can kind of keep their cool about their daughter turning into a raven-winged sorceress, then a talking dog shouldn’t be more than they can handle.”

“Hey, better than a raging she-demon,” Sunset said, using wooden spoon to stir the milk. “How hot do you want your drink, by the way?”

“I actually don’t like my hot chocolate that hot. I hate the way my tongue feels if I burn it.”

Sunset nodded, holding her hand close to the surface of the milk to get a sense for its temperature. “Well, then this should be ready really soon. I actually like my hot chocolate the same way.”

“I guess they have hot chocolate in Equestria?” Twilight asked, though she sounded a little distracted.

“We have coffee and tea too, but coffee isn’t nearly as big as it is here. I think it’s partially because of Princess Celestia. She almost exclusively drinks tea, and over the centuries, I think public tastes swayed to match hers.” Sunset flicked off the heat on the stove and lifted the pot over to the cups. She poured the milk in, dribbling a little, but not enough to make a big mess. She then placed the pot in the sink, used a paper towel to tidy up the spills, then used a pair of spoons to stir the cups. The final touch was a few quick squirts from a can of whipped cream, which was removed and put back into the fridge promptly.

“There we go, hot chocolate is served,” Sunset said as she held the two mugs and turned around. It was then she able to see what Twilight was doing. She had stood up from the couch, moved over to Sunset’s bookcase, and pulled something down from the highest shelf. It was a little, yellow, crocheted pony doll with red and yellow mane.

“Is this the Hearthswarming doll you mentioned earlier?” Twilight asked as Sunset came up beside her. Twilight held the doll out, trading it with Sunset for one of the cups of hot chocolate.

Sunset nodded as the pair sat down on the couch. “Yeah. This is the doll my grandmother made me back when I was just a little filly. That’s part of the tradition, or at least our tradition. I’ve got a small family. So for Hearthswarming, when we’d all get together, everyone would bring their dolls and any dolls they had inherited when other family members passed away. We’d line them all up on the hearth. The dolls are supposed to remind everypony of the warmth shared that fateful night, but for our family, it was also a way for us to remember family.”

Twilight sipped a bit at her hot chocolate as her eyes remained focused on the doll. “I’ve always been a little curious what you look like as a pony.”

Sunset chuckled a little. “Well, don’t get the wrong impression. This doll was made when I was really small and a little pudgy.”

“So, you were a pudgy little pony,” Twilight said with a teasing grin on her face.

“What? I…” She blushed a little before standing up to return the doll to the bookcase. “I’ll have you know most ponies are a little pudgy when their growing up.”

“Human’s aren’t really that different. My parents will probably say I was a bit pudgy when I was a baby too.” Twilight let her eyes linger on the doll, even as Sunset sat back down on the couch. “So this is the first year since you came to the human world you're going back to visit your family.”

“Yeah. They don’t even know that I’m coming, and… I never really told them where I was going when I left. The only reason I have the doll is my mother wanted me to have it when I went to Celestia’s school.” Sunset took a sip of her hot chocolate, smiling at the warmth. Yet, slowly, her lips fell into a frown. “Do you think they’ll be angry with me when I get back? Do you think they’ll even let me in after all this time?”

“Well, it’s all about constants and variables,” Twilight said. “The traditions between the two worlds are similar yet different. People are similar but different from ponies. Here the sun moves because of the spin of the plant. In the pony world, it’s because a princess pony raises and lowers the sun. There are a lot of things that are different.

“But,” Twilight said, smiling and setting a hand on Sunset’s shoulder. “One thing I’m sure is constant is that parents normally love their children. I’m sure they’ll just be happy you're back in their lives. After all, whether it's Christmas or Hearthswarming, the important thing is being with the people, or ponies, that care about you the most.”

“Yeah… you’re right,” Sunset said with a nod before taking a large drink from her hot chocolate. “Still, enough of that mushy stuff. I doubt your brother’s going to be able to come get you until morning. How about I put a frozen pizza in the oven, move my computer monitor over to the coffee table, and we cozy up with a few blankets to watch a movie?”

“Okay, but only if you let me help this time. I might be a guest, but that doesn’t mean I’m helpless.” Twilight’s eyes moved over to Sunset’s collection of DVD’s, smiling and pointing at one in particular. “I haven’t seen that one, but Rainbow tells me it's really good.”

Sunset nodded, setting her hot chocolate on the coffee table. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites. Still, if you want to help, I’ll let you move my computer monitor over here. You can then log in on the guest account and pop in the movie. While you’re doing that, I’ll get the pizza in the oven and pop some microwave popcorn.”

“Perfect,” Twilight said with a nod, setting down her hot chocolate as well. The two separated, but within a few minutes they were back on the couch. They stole the blanket from Sunset’s bed, wrapping it around their cold feet as they sipped their hot chocolate. The movie played, popcorn and pizza were eaten, and Sunset found herself smiling.

For the first time in several years, winter was actually feeling like Hearthswarming.

 

 

 

 

 

Amending Fences II (for Pearple Prose)

Starlight Glimmer traversed the streets of Ponyville on her way to Friendship Castle. A thick blanket of snow covered the ground, and all around Hearth’s Warming decorations adorned every streetlamp and building. The smell of gingerbread permeated the air, invading Starlight's nostrils and making her crave the delicious holiday treat.

But she hadn’t the time, a fact she was reminded of whenever she thought back to the letter Princess Twilight had sent her the other day, telling her to visit her castle for what she only described as ‘a holiday surprise’. What it could be, she hadn’t a clue, but it warmed her heart to know that the princess truly and honestly held nothing against her after their altercation involving the Map and her time travel revenge scheme.

It also warmed her heart to know that Twilight had done such a good job of keeping said incident a secret to the general public. Walking along the road toward the castle, nopony so much as cast a furtive glance at her. They were all completely unaware of the despair she had caused them in several alternate futures, and that’s how she liked it.

At last, she reached Friendship Castle. The only Hearth’s Warming decoration to adorn the place was a simple wreath hung on the front door.

Guess she’s too busy to do anything more elaborate. She knocked twice on the door. A minute later, the door opened to reveal Twilight’s beaming face.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Starlight!” she exclaimed, before stepping aside and bading her to enter. “Come in, please.”

“Thanks for inviting me, Twilight–er, I mean, Princess.” A small blush formed across her cheeks as she entered. “Sorry, which do you prefer, again?” she asked.

“Whatever you prefer is fine,” she replied, and closed the door. “Thanks for coming, Starlight. You have no idea how worried I was you wouldn’t, after all the work I put into your surprise.”

“You were really vague in your letter,” Starlight noted, an eyebrow raised. “What kind of surprise could you possibly have worked so hard to prepare for me?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.” Twilight began heading down the foyer, Starlight following after her, her curiosity piqued.

They made their way through the castle, silent except for their hoofsteps on the crystal floor, echoing throughout the vast halls. All the while, Starlight pondered what Twilight’s surprise could possibly be. Nothing she could think of seemed to warrant so much build up and secrecy, which got her both curious and excited as to what Princess Twilight had for her.

Eventually, Twilight stopped in a lounging area that Starlight hadn’t seen when she broke into the castle for her revenge plot. A couple of couches on either side, each accompanied by a lamp, and a coffee table in the middle. Standard fare. Nothing overly fancy, aside from everything being made of crystals.

“Why have we stopped?” Starlight asked, inspecting the room. “I don’t see anything that surprises me.”

Twilight turned to her, and Starlight took notice of the princess’ wistful smile. “I had to pull some strings to get your Hearth’s Warming present, but it was worth it.”

Now Starlight was just plain confused. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Suddenly, a red mane peeked over the closest couch, followed by a unicorn horn protruding from an orange coat. Next came a pair of black-rimmed eyeglasses, behind which sat a pair of blue eyes with a white splotch of fur on the muzzle. It all added up to make a face that made Starlight’s jaw drop.

“Long time no see, Starlight,” Sunburst said, waving at her with a slightly sheepish grin.

The resulting silence was deafening. A pin could be heard dropping anywhere within a mile wide radius. Starlight just stood in place, eyes wide and body tense as she stared at a pony she’d never expected to hear hide nor hair from ever again, while he merely retained his sheepish grin, never breaking eye contact from her. Twilight glanced back and forth between them, waiting for either one to say something. When she made to break the silence herself, Starlight beat her to it.

“Why did you bring him here, Twilight?” she asked, her brow furrowing a little.

“Because I wanted to give you the chance to rekindle your lost friendship,” Twilight replied, and smiled wistfully. “Or, at the very least, properly tie up the remaining loose ends.”

“I’m sure you never expected to see me ever again, Starlight,” Sunburst spoke up. Activating his horn, he levitated a small white box tied with a red ribbon from behind the couch and over to Starlight. “First of all, here’s my own Hearth’s Warming present. I hope you like it.”

Starlight took the box in her own magic, eyeing it curiously. She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid off, revealing the brown stuffing paper inside. Shifting through it, she pulled out Sunburst’s present. It was a snow globe, but closer inspection revealed little miniature figurines of both Starlight and Sunburst as foals, building a snowpony together in front of a miniature replica of Starlight’s childhood home.

“Sunburst, I… I…” Her eyes welled up. She clutched the snowglobe close to her chest, smiling warmly and sniffling. “Thank you so much.”

Sunburst smiled. “I had that custom made in Trottingham. Cost me quite a bit, too, but it was well worth it.” His smile faltered for a moment. “I don’t know if you can forgive me for essentially abandoning you way back then. I was a stupid foal, after all.” His smile changed entirely into a frown. “Princess Twilight tells me you’ve been heavily distraught because of what I did.”

That gave Starlight pause again. She turned to Twilight, wide-eyed.

“That’s all I told him,” Twilight clarified, quick to diffuse Starlight’s fear.

“I won’t ask anything about what you did as a result,” Sunburst said. He climbed over the couch and walked over to Starlight, his smile having returned. He held out a hoof. “I’ll be your friend again if you want. But I’ll be fine either way, as long as you’re happy.”

Starlight looked at the proffered hoof as the surrealness of the situation finally settled into her mind. Never did she think she’d meet Sunburst again, much less as a Hearth’s Warming present from Princess Twilight herself. That he was apologizing for abandoning her was nice, but deep down, she knew she was just as much to blame for holding it against him instead of attempting to reconnect with him.

She was a stupid foal too, after all.

But now she was given a chance to make up for that mistake, and she had no intention of throwing it away.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and set down the snowglobe. “I’d love for us to be friends again,” she answered, and wrapped her hooves around him.

“Merry Hearth’s Warming, Starlight,” Sunburst replied, and hugged her back.

The two of them then felt a pair of wings wrap around them.

“Thank you, Princess Twilight,” they said in unison.

The Holiday At The End Of The World (for Aragon)

It had been some time since the snow fell, and the end was not in sight.

Like a blanket of fleece, the ashen-grey flakes coated the horizon, creating a vista of uniform blandness that stretched from pole to pole; along every horizon; over every inch of the world that was once Equestria.

And still, down it poured, from a place unknowable, unaffected by the wind and unconcerned with the weather – like a gentle dusting upon the landscape, it swallowed everything up in its ever-growing fleece.

Across the rolling grey mountains, a figure trudged, stepping through crisp and crunchy layers with tightly-wrapped shards of cloth and fabric: boots that worked in a pinch. The character was covered with drapery that matched: loose pieces of thick wool bound on roughly by rope. A pair of goggles covered misty eyes, and a filtered mask covered pursed lips.

She climbed, rolled and clambered, passing by small tufts of green that poked their way out of the snow like abandoned lampposts. She stood atop the very canopy of what was once a great forest. Perhaps it was the Whitetail. Perhaps it was the Everfree. But tales of woods bore no meaning any longer, none in this harsh landscape.

Against a pure sky of white, she pushed up a final, steep hill, hooves sinking into thick, dry powder, and made her way to The Final Green.

It was the last tree in Equestria.

At least, it was the last one they knew about.

The great Oak had defied its fate by being the sole tree that grew on the top of what used to be the tallest hill under Canterlot, where it had grown for hundreds of years unhindered by competition.

Its wide branches and thick foliage blocked out the sun, and was more than sufficient to block anything else.

One day, the snow would catch up. But that day was yet to come.

Pinkie Pie stopped under the great boughs of The Final Green, rubbing her hoof on the grass that still showed under the tree’s protection. She tore off her mask and goggles and loosened the bindings from her head, giving it a few swift shakes to bring her hair back to normal.

She looked out over the landscape.

Here and there, smoke rose in black columns where towns and cities used to be. There was still life amidst the chaos. There were still ponies fighting back. Behind her loomed Canterlot Mountain, still above the mess, but still coated in nefarious grey snow. To the West were the remains of Cloudsdale after it crashed a few years ago. And to the East.... well, there was never much there to begin with.

Pinkie forced herself to smile.

She sat down, under the shade of The Final Green, humming a wordless tune, rocking back and forth.

Her bindings were itchy, hot and uncomfortable. But it was far too troublesome to take it all off. If there were one thing she hoped for – one possible benefit from the entire situation – it was the vain hope that this snow, in some form or otherwise, was in any way cold.

But it didn’t afford her even that much.

She chuckled aimlessly at the irony, as a bead of sweat hung off the tip of her nose.

She batted it away.

From across where Pinkie sat came another figure, stepping heavily, stepping with purpose, as this figure pulled leg after leg through the thick grey sheets, struggling like a child trying to wade through dry oatmeal. This figure was dressed in proper boots and a cloak – something roomy and breathable; something that allowed her to move. This figure wore a blue skin-tight mask over her face, with the regular goggles and breather worn over it. This figure stopped at the very edge of the clearing, coming to rest where the snow stopped and the grass began.

Pinkie Pie watched with mute rapture.

The figure jumped up and down a few times, shaking off snow like a dog coming out of the rain, pulling her goggles and face-kit down to her neck.

“Hi, Rainbow,” Pinkie said, the moment giving her smile reason to turn genuine.

“Hey, girl,” Rainbow replied grumpily, as she started to pace around the tree, marking out her boundaries as the years taught her to do. “First here again, huh.”

“Every year.”

“And the others, late as always, huh?”

“Every year.”

“Why do I even bother?”

“Same reason I do, silly.”

Rainbow stopped circling and turned to look at Pinkie. She hadn’t stopped staring at Dash since the moment she arrived.

The corner of Dash’s mouth turned up slightly before dropping again.

“Aw,” Pinkie muttered, eyes dropping back down to the ground in front of her. “Thought we were gonna have one this year.”

“It gets harder each time, Pinkie.”

“I know!” Pinkie grinned. “Which is why we should never stop! Because the moment we stop, it’s just the same as giving up!”

Dash stepped forward, staring at Pinkie down the narrow length of her muzzle.

“Heh. It’s good to see you, Pinkie Pie.”

“Yeah. It’s always good to see me. How’s things going on your side?” Pinkie shuffled over: a pointless gestures as there was ample space. But it was a gesture accepted regardless, as Rainbow settled herself down next to her friend in a tired heap.

Both of them stared out into the torrential wasteland for a moment.

“Is there even a point?” Rainbow asked.

“Hm?” Pinkie looked over.

“This has been going on for, what, five years? Six? I don’t even know anymore. And there’s nothing left. Nothing. I mean, everything’s gone, Pinkie. The Pegasi can’t fly in this. Magic’s all weird now. Happiness is gone. Life is gone. Doesn’t that cross your mind?”

“Why, Rainbow. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were actually musing on things.” Pinkie giggled.

“Oh, shut up.”

Pinkie dropped into a hum.

“You know, sometimes, eternal optimism isn’t always the solution,” Rainbow shot out.

“Oh, but I usually have reason to be optimistic nowadays,” Pinkie countered jovially.

“Yeah? What about?”

“Well, I know your section’s too far out, but news got to me a couple months ago that Twilight finally found a way to break through the snow, and maybe, maybe, she found a way to counter it somewhat.”

“Counter? What do you mean counter? You can’t counter this stuff! This stuff makes no sense to begin with! No amount of magic in the world could possibly–”

“Well, listen, listen,” Pinkie lilted. “I mean, as you said, this stuff makes no sense, right? So what’s the opposite of that?”

“The opposite of…?”

“No sense.”

“Uh…”

“Go on.”

“Sense?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow.

“Right.” Pinkie clapped her hooves together. “Logic. Smart stuff. Well, Twilight has found a way to turn that into a kind of weird liquid form.”

“She what?”

“Liquid logic.”

“She what?”

“And that’s something to be optimistic about!” Pinkie giggled again.

“No, no. Wait. Back up.” Rainbow held her hooves out in front of her. “That… she made logic into a liquid? How? And how did she find a way to do this without magic?”

“I dunno, I just heard it.”

“No, but like, logic isn’t even a thing. The whole thing by itself is kinda… you know… nonsensical in the first place!”

“Well, maybe that was the problem?” Pinkie shrugged.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, for all this time we’ve been trying to find a solution that works by our understanding. But obviously this stuff… whatever it is, doesn’t want to. I guess Twilight finally decided to actually learn the rules.”

“But still… I mean… do you understand why I’m having trouble with this idea?”

Pinkie nodded. “Sure, but you asked me what I was optimistic about. And that’s that. Besides… Look.”

“What am I looking at?”

Pinkie raised a hoof toward a small thin stream of black smoke rising through the air from the vicinity of what used to be Trottingham.

“Yeah?”

“That’s Rarity’s district. She was given the stuff to work with first as a trial run, so I hear. That smoke means that the snow’s being burnt.”

“Burnt?”

“Or so I hear,” Pinkie reaffirmed.

“It doesn't even melt, how does it b– you know what,” Dash shook her head, rubbing her temple with a gloved hoof, “I don’t even want to know. When the others get here, they can explain it themselves.”

“I’m sure they can. When they get here, that is.”

“When they get here,” Rainbow echoed.

“Mmm,” Pinkie hummed.

“They’re always late.”

“Not always!”

“Always.”

When the two stopped talking, all sound disappeared. There was nothing else to fill in the void for miles around. The snow fell silently, and anything else that might lend a voice had long since been buried.

Not even the wind filled the emptiness with its pining.

Each shuffle and shake of Rainbow Dash, caught up in her suit, wings struggling against their bindings, was clear. Every movement of Pinkie’s as she turned left and right to look for her other friends was like a broadcast to the world.

“Hey,” Rainbow said.

The snow continued to fall.

“Yeah?” Pinkie responded.

“Do you ever miss him?”

Pinkie stared at the flat grey landscape beyond. “Well. That’s a rather curious thing for you to be asking!”

“Just answer the question, damnit.”

“I mean, that’s not an easy question, is it?” Cloth shuffled as bodies moved in discomfort.

“No. But that’s why I’m askin’. I’m no good at figuring stuff out.”

“I think Twilight and Flutters miss him the most, really. He was pretty sweet on Fluts, and I think he was really coming along with his reformation before he died. Twilight’s probably just disappointed, really.”

“Yeah but… every year I think about it, and every year I wonder. Did he do the right thing?”

“I think he did what he wanted to. I’d have done the same. Wouldn’t you have?”

“Yeah, I mean. Any of us probably would. Maybe not Rarity.”

Pinkie snerked.

“Yeah, no,” Dash continued. “But I mean, he died to save us, and now this is the result.”

“Not like he knew this would happen! Not like any of us knew!”

“And now things are… wrong. Things are different.” Dash sighed.

“Yeah, but at least he defeated the big bad, right? At the very least, now we know what happens when a chaos spirit sacrifices himself and scatters himself all over the world!”

“Bad things. Bad, bad things.” Dash replied dryly.

“Bad things!” Pinkie echoed.

“I just kinda feel like I want to say I miss him, but I also feel that this kinda really sucks.”

“Well, you can feel both, you know.”

Another bout of silence passed by the hill.

“Yeah,” Dash said.

She sighed.

She scratched her head while Pinkie watched bemusedly, a soft smile on her face.

“Do you ever miss the times when we just sort of fought bad guys and no one had to die?”

“That was a while ago.”

“I kinda miss that. I miss when things were interesting and different and… I dunno. Colourful, I guess. I miss colour. I miss Ponyville. I miss just hanging out. I miss not having so much responsibility. I miss…”

“Tons of stuff, huh.”

“Tons of stuff.”

“But at least there’s hope, right?” Pinkie pointed to the smoke in the distance.

“Yeah, I guess so. And then maybe things will finally go back to normal.”

“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” Pinkie grinned. “Maybe you’ll smile again.”

“Yeah, maybe I will. I sure miss that too,” Dash said grumpily.

“And if not, there’s always this to look forward to every year.” Pinkie twirled her hoof around in the air.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I mean…” Dash shuffled uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but what do we do? We meet here, gathering around the last damn tree in Equestria once a year, and for what? Eat a bit of food, talk about stuff… and go back to that. All that grey. And every day that isn’t today is the same.”

“That’s how it is, isn’t it?”

“I guess what I mean is that… I’d rather live in a world where I didn’t have to do this every year.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” Pinkie’s smile dropped as she nodded her head. “But right now? It’s all we have. Maybe it will change in the future. Maybe it won’t. But right now, it’s all we have.”

“Heh.” Dash chuckled, almost laughing.

Pinkie raised a tired eyebrow.

“‘Maybe’, huh?” Dash pointed out. “What happened to your unbridled optimism?”

“Sometimes eternal optimism isn’t the solution,” Pinkie replied, closing her eyes and leaning back against the cool bark of the tree.

Up above, a bird chirped, like a siren blasting out through the nothingness.

The two of them looked up, trying to find it amongst the branches.

They failed,

But it was there. Somewhere.

Or maybe it was just a phantom, lost to the world.

“Guess we just wait now, huh?” Dash said.

“Yeah. They’ll be here soon.”

“They’re always late, though,” Dash said.

“Always late,” echoed Pinkie, as she started to daydream.

Replaced (for Derpator)

Amethyst tossed back the eggnog and drank the entire glass in three gulps, setting it back down on the table with a slam and a noisy sigh.

A young male pony in a black suit came up to her and looked uncertainly between her and the empty glass.  “A-Are you done, miss?” he asked.

“Bring me another one, waiter,” Amethyst said.  “And bring me the stuffed peppers.”

The waiter raised an eyebrow.  He spoke careful but guardedly.  “You’ve already had three eggnogs tonight.  Are you sure you want another?”

“Yes!  Now bring me the eggnog, and the stuffed peppers.  At least I’ll be eating with it.”

The waiter nodded and hurriedly left.  He came back moments later with another glass of eggnog and hurriedly left again in the direction of the kitchens, leaving Amethyst alone to sit and think.

Amethyst was at a small restaurant on the outside of Ponyville’s main square.  Outside, she could see snow gently falling and covering the ground with a layer of soft white fluff.  The air outside was chilly and a small gust blew in every time the door was open.  Outside, the Hearth’s Warming Eve tree was being placed in the square and being decorated, with a purple alicorn mare standing outside and watching over the scene.

Twilight Sparkle… Amethyst found herself hating the alicorn, a remarkable irony considering she was the Princess of Friendship.  Before she had ever been in Ponyville, Amethyst was the one who organized the major events.  She was the main party planner (Pinkie provided the party; Amethyst brought order), she was the leader of Winter Wrap-Up, she even was the head of Ponyville’s Public Relations Department for Mayor Mare; if anyone had a problem, they went to her.

But ever since Twilight had come into town, Amethyst was almost forgotten.  She kept her spot as the head of Public Relations, but Twilight’s ascension to Princess left Amethyst mostly relegated to paperwork or reading over query letters to other departments, a simple clerk.  A minute piece of what she once was.

Amethyst was served her peppers and eggnog.  She drank down the eggnog in five large gulps, wolfed down the peppers, and left the restaurant after quickly paying.

Amethyst walked through town and past the large Hearth’s Warming Eve pine with ornaments and tinsel and lights being hung up in the early days of the winter season.  It was cold and a chill ran through Amethyst and she wrapped her scarf around her an extra time.

As she was walking by the Hearth’s Warming pine, Twilight came down after directing a squad of pegasi hanging tinsel around the top.  Twilight settled down a short ways away from Amethyst, and on her way to look at another part of the pine, looked and saw Amethyst walking in her direction.

“Hey, Amethyst!” Twilight called, waving at her.  “How are you?”

“Oh, fine,” Amethyst spat.  “Just finished some stuffed peppers and eggnog and was heading home to relax with a book.  Fun…” she deadpanned.

“Oh, that sounds fun!”  Twilight clapped her hooves joyfully.  “I’d love to do that myself, but I’m so busy with all this preparation for the Hearth’s Warming celebrations.”

“Oh, well I’m sorry you can’t,” Amethyst said sarcastically.  “I’d love to be working out here, but I’m feeling a bit of a chill.”

“Yeah, it is pretty cold out here,” Twilight said calmly.  “Hey, is something on your mind?”

“What?  Oh, no no no.”  Amethyst stepped around Twilight and continued onwards.  “Nothing.  You go on about your duties.  I’m sure you haven’t organized any time for me.”

“Amethyst, wait!”

But the purple mare didn’t wait.  It’s hard to feel mad at a mare who’s so nice, Amethyst thought.  She walked out of the square, leaving huge imprints and kicking up snow as she went, just so she could stay mad at her.

* * *

Later that afternoon found Twilight at Rarity’s boutique.  Having been confused by the attitude of Amethyst Star, Twilight had gone to the pony who’d been there the longest and knew the most of anypony… and was focused enough to stay on track.

They had been having tea and eating small cookies in Rarity’s main living area in front of a large fire.  Rarity was bundled neatly up in a large pink robe and with slippers, while Twilight merely had on a scarf, her own jacket left at the door.

“So, how well do you know Amethyst Star?” Twilight asked.

Rarity mused over it for a while.  “Well, I don’t personally know her,” she said.  “She came in here once and commissioned for me a rather lovely-designed pendant with an amethyst gemstone in it.”

“And, what was she like to work with?”

“Oh, an absolute charm.”  Rarity sipped her tea.  “Very punctual, very organized, but rather understanding.  She came in to look at the pendant as a work-in-progress numerous times, and every time seemed pleased and grateful at how it was coming along.”

Twilight thought about it over a sip of her own tea.

“Come to think of it,” Rarity added, “she’s rather like you.  Well organized, love of books, common pony we go to when we have our problems.  I’m surprised you’re not friends.”

“Well, I admit I have had a few shortcomings in my friendships,” Twilight said sheepishly, “given I’ve been spending so much time with you and the other Elements.”

“Well, that’s quite understandable,” Rarity said, putting a hoof to Twilight’s shoulder comfortingly.  “We’ve been thrust together in many adventures, and sometimes it’s a little difficult when life throws so many things at you.”

Twilight smiled at Rarity.  “Well, then maybe you can still help me.”

“Well, I’ll do what I can, dear.”  Rarity winked.

Twilight smiled.  “Well, I was in the square today supervising the setup of the Hearth’s Warming pine, when Amethyst came by.  I tried talking to her, but she seemed rather standoffish and angry.  I was going to ask her why, but she walked away.”

Rarity squinted her eyes and gave off a “hmm”.  “…well, I think I see what’s the matter.”

“You do?”

“Yes.  You see, before you came here, Amethyst was normally in charge of things.  I bet that she sees you in most of the positions she was in before, and envies you.”

“Oh.  I… it’s hard work.  I’m organized, but it’s not my talent.  And it is really stressful with all these being placed on me since becoming a princess.”

“Then go and tell her that,” Rarity said, making a sort of pushing motion with her hooves.  “Let her know you wish you could have her talent for it.  Maybe even invite her to help you, show her how she would do it.”

Twilight smiled.  “That’s an excellent idea!” she said.  “Oh, thank you so much, Rarity.  And I think I have just the way to go about that…”

* * *

A few evenings later, Amethyst was sitting around with family; her little sister Dinky was coloring with some of her cousins, and Amethyst was talking to some of her own cousins that she hadn’t seen for some time.  Dinner had been served and eaten, hot chocolate was available in rather large quantities on the stovetop, and a fire was in the fireplace as a light frost painted the edges of the windows.

It was dark and cold outside, moreso than normal, so Amethyst was surprised when a knock came at the door.  She politely excused herself and went over to the door to open it, determined that no one should have to be outside in such weather.

She was even more surprised to see the pony standing outside was none other than Twilight Sparkle.

“What are you doing here?” she quickly spat into the cold.

“Do you mind if I come in?” Twilight asked.  “I need to talk to you about something.”

Amethyst opened up the door a little more and moved out of the way as Twilight jumped inside.  She quickly closed the door as Twilight shivered; she wore nothing but a scarf.

“It’s freezing outside!” Amethyst said.  “Are you crazy?”

“Perhaps.”  Twilight dusted some snow off a box neatly wrapped in brown paper.  “But I wanted to talk to you before too long.”

Amethyst didn’t know what to do or say about that, exactly.  “You want to have a cup of hot chocolate?” she asked by way of conversation.

Twilight shivered again.  “I… that would be nice.”

Amethyst led Twilight into the kitchen and poured them both a cup of hot chocolate.  They sat at the table, Twilight blowing a little steam off her cup before sipping it.  Twilight placed the box on the table next to her though mentioned nothing about it.

“You have family over?” Twilight said, motioning to the main living room.

Amethyst nodded.  “Family came over from Las Pegasus about two days ago.  They’re here throughout the Hearth’s Warming season.”

Twilight nodded.  “I’m really sorry.  I’ll make this quick.”  Twilight gulped and looked Amethyst directly in the eye.  “What were you angry about when I saw you in the square?”

Amethyst looked at Twilight in surprise.  “Why do you ask?”

“Because… it seemed like you were angry.  It’s my job as the Princess of Friendship to help other ponies get along with each other.”

Amethyst sighed and rolled her eyes.  “It wasn’t much.  It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.”

“Uh… if you don’t mind me asking, there was a line that bothered me when you said it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said – and I quote – ‘I’m sure you haven’t organized any time for me’.  You sounded like you weren’t just mad, but mad at me.”

Amethyst figured it would have come up eventually.  “Alright, I admit, I was mad at you.  Happy?”

“Not really.  I went and talked with Rarity earlier this week, and she said you were mad at me because I do a lot of the things that you used to do around here.  Is that true?”

Amethyst nodded.  “At least you did your research and went right to the point. Would have expected nothing less.”

“…I’m not sure I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Alright, alright!” Amethyst nearly shouted.  “Yes, I’m mad at you.  Yes, I’m mad because before you came here, I was the one who was the big organizer for all these things.  I used to be the one everypony went to, but ever since you came here, I’ve just been relegated to Ponyville Public Relations… and frankly, since you’re doing all the work there, too, I’m nothing lately but a clerk doing paperwork.”

Twilight leaned back in her chair a bit and flinched.  “Well, um, I’m really sorry about that.  Really.  I had no idea I was stepping on your position like that.”

“Oh, big deal!  Ponies always say they’re sorry, but how often do they really mean it?  I mean, what can you do about all this, huh?”

“Well, I can’t change the past.  But, I did want to talk about more than that.”

Amethyst put her chin on a hoof and glared at Twilight from across the table.  “Do tell.”

“Well, I wanted to say I’m impressed.  When I first arrived here, and even for the first few months, you were really competent at organizing everything around Ponyville.  Meanwhile…”

Amethyst watched as Twilight pointed to below her eyes.  They were surprisingly baggy, puffy, and a slightly darker purple than before.

“…sometimes I don’t like the load I’m given.  I overschedule.  I overwork myself and barely get any sleep at night thinking about what I’ll have to do.  Especially with being a princess and everything now.”

Amethyst’s glare softened and turned to one of surprise.

“I envy you, really,” Twilight continued.  “I mean, you were able to get so much done around here without breaking a sweat.  I kind of wish I wasn’t doing it alone sometimes, because it can get really hard and a lot of pressure comes on me with so many ponies depending on me for so many things.”

It was at this moment Twilight pushed the box over to in front of Amethyst.

“Open it.  Consider it an early Hearth’s Warming gift.”

Amethyst gently brought out a butter knife and sliced open the packaging.  She tore off the paper to find a box, and used the knife again to open the box.  Upon looking inside, she noticed a vest made of brown, green, and blue leather.

“Wait a minute…” Amethyst trailed off for a moment.  She used her magic and pulled the vest out and looked at it.  “…isn’t this the outfit we gave you for being the all-team organizer?”

Twilight nodded.  “My first Winter Wrap-Up in Ponyville,” she said fondly.  “I want you to have it.”

“But why?”

“Because you should be the one in charge of that,” Twilight said.  “There are things that I took over from you, and I want you to have them back.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want help.  Specifically, I want your help.  Perhaps… do you think… you could be something of an assistant?  Helping me out with things around Ponyville?  I can handle any royal business, but if you were to take back your position and help me out with planning and organizing things around Ponyville, I’d really appreciate that.”

Amethyst found herself even more shocked, but soon found herself smiling and crying.  “You… you really mean that?”

Twilight nodded slowly and smiled at her.

Amethyst nearly tackled Twilight from how hard she hugged her.  “You’re forgiven,” she said.

Twilight giggled.  “Well, it’s glad to know that it was well-received.  I’ll send a letter to let Princess Celestia know.”

“Well, that’s amazing!  Really, it is.  I promise.  So… is there anything else?”

“I want to be your friend, too.  I heard you liked books and were organized and punctual, and wondered if every once in a while you wanted to stop in for tea and we could talk over books.”

A wide grin broke out on Amethyst’s face.  “I’d be glad to, Twilight.  But, how about we start now?  Want to join us for a few games before you go?”

Twilight smiled happily back.  “I’d be glad to.”

JINGLEMAS WITH FRIENDS (for Dubs Rewatcher)

When Sunset Shimmer first came to this world, she had dismissed there ‘Jinglemas’ as just a toy company money grab with a few kind messages and feast thrown in through the years.

While she definitely wasn't putting those opinions completely aside, she had discovered that the time was exponentially more enjoyable with friends.

She was at Rarity's early, how she was convinced to get up at the unholy hour was beyond her, but here she was none the less.

She knocks on the door, expecting Rarity or Sweetie to answer, however she has to take a step back when she's greeted by a prismatic hairdo and a sporty build.

“Rainbow Dash!?”

“Oh cool Sunset you're here, come on in we got everything set up” The girl says making way for Sunset to enter “Head on through to the kitchen, I'll get you a cocoa or something while we talk design!”

‘Talk design’?, now there was a couple of words Sunset never thought she'd hear Rainbow say with enthusiasm unless it had ‘Wondercolt Uniform’ in between it, but she goes through anyway.

Upon entering she is quickly engulfed in a hug, the engulfer being none other than Sweetie Belle who Sunset sometimes internally compared to a ‘face hugger’ from a movie Dash had shown her.

“Oh hey there waist hugger, how are you so perky at this time of the morning?”

Did I say sometimes internally? Opps.

“Hey Sunset! I'm so excited for Jinglemas today! Aren't you!? Oh wait Rarity said this is your first actual one *gasp* will you be spending it with us! Is that why Rainbow’s here too!”

Sunset is saved from the incoming onslaught of questions by Rarity calm hand firmly gripping her sister's shoulder,

“Now now Sweetie, let Sunset breath. They're just here for their festive sweaters”

Ahh yes, Sunset had seem some of these articles of clothing, and the only way she could describe them was tacky, but alas they were part of the holiday.

In comes Rainbow Dash with several steaming cups, passing them around

“Here we all go once we're all toasty and awake, let's start planning!”

So they all drank, and just before Sunset took the final swig of hers, she asked,

“so, uh, what are we planning?”

Rainbows face lights up, as does Raritys, while Sweetie joins Sunset in m looking inquisitively at the pair.

“Well darling, we are here to design” Rarity starts, only to be cut off by Dash,

“I'm gonna knit you one of 7 of the most awsomely festive sweater jumpers EVER!”

Sunset scorfs a little at this,

“You? Knitting?”

Eyes narrow on her,

“Yeah, knitting, my Grandma, who can I remind you was one of the greatest X-Sports riders around, taught me. So it's cool, got it”

All three others nod rapidly, slightly scared by the change in tone.

“Cool! Alright, how about we get started! Sunset, since I know you've got plans that don't involve here later, let's start with you, now, I think a nice bright red would suit you, like your hair, but since I don't know too much about fashion, Rarity would you…”

In the end Rarity took over and drew out the design for them, after which is when Rainbow Dash wowed them all, by knitting the entire thing in 20 minutes.

Don't ask details, I've spent a year and a half knitting my own jumper…

The main colour was the traditionally tacky dark forest green looking green, with numerous red and white details strewn across it.

It was tacky. And Sunset loved it.

But now, with sweater in tow, she heads off to have a big hearty breakfast with the Apples and Pies. But let's be honest, what pon--person doesn't like the Apples and Pies cooking, and when don't they have hearty meals.

They ate they laughed, and I have a day to finish this so… no detail for you!

Now feeling full, the next thing was the one she was least enthusiastic about.

Singing Carols with Fluttershy.

It wasn't anything to do with Flutters, or Bulk Biceps who was tagging along too, no.

Sunset just didn’t know the songs...

“Oh this will be so exciting. I can't wait to show you how much fun it is singing for the elderly is!”

By this time Sunset had put the sweater on, as did both Fluttershy and Bulk.

And pretty much all the folks they were to sing for.

Because it was cold in the retirement home.

Like seriously, do the staff WANT to knock their clients off early.. brrer...

Back on track sorry…

“I hope you don't think I'm thinking less of you, but I printed off the words here” The gentle white giants baritone voice rung out, forgetting to switch back to talk mode after turning his Violin.

*cough cough* “Sorry, Shy mentioned you hadn't sung these before”

“Oh, thanks big guy” Shimmer said trying to act like she was all chill (not hard... wait is that AirCon on?) and not like she he was on the edge of turning demon just to warm u-I mean- run away.

She looks over some of the words.

‘Well, this should be too bad… the tartarus is a Orient though? And why are we pretending to be their kings? Following a star… what?’

“Sunset!” Fluttershy says firmly. Softly because, well, hello it's ‘Shy, but firmly “I'm sorry to interrupt your thinking but you're in the nice mans way, and we're almost ready to go”

Moving out the way and slotting in between the other two, Sunset wishers back.

“Sorry, but could you maybe start off with one, I need a sec to go over these words some more, I'll come in on a chorus or something”

Bulk chuckles softly, raising his instrument, he mentions to Fluttershy something about a lady named Mary letting him hold her child, to which Fluttershy in took breath and nodded.

‘Seriously that girl gets so excited over simple things, even to others’

Bulk begins to play something, a nice soothing piece.

‘Hmm so maybe…’

Fluttershy begins to sing, and all Sunsets thoughts all are put on hold until further notice.

The sound was all she could focus on, all she wanted to focus on.

The words on the sheet in front of her, the old people who had also stopped to listen, even Bulks playing right by her ear, all faded away.

A minute or so later Fluttershy finishes the song, and the elderly applaud.

It takes a moment for Sunset to register that she was being talked to.

“...of the songs yet?”

“Oh, umm, no, I got a bit distracted... umm hey, Fluttershy, can we meet up later tonight, I'd like to… talk with you… later, alone...“

Bulk chuckles again, while Fluttershy blushes.

“A-a-alone… with you? Oh umm.. I think I umm…”

A raised laugh comes from Bulk who answers for ‘Shy

“She'd love too, but right now, how about we just do what we came here for, the first one there is relatively easy, nice calm Silent Night hey”

And so they did.

And Sunset may have really really enjoyed it. Like a lot.

But not as much as when she met up with Fluttershy later that day.

And they did done banged

Of Windigos And Chandeliers (for Razalon The Lizardman)

Title: Of Windigos And Chandeliers

Daring Do, also known as A. K. Yearling in certain circles, also known as “Wait, why are you smiling like that?” in other certain circles, was many things. A mare of action. A fearless daredevil. A great archeologist, a writer, a free-time intellectual, and undisputed champion of the Most Chandeliers Destroyed In One Single Afternoon Competition for five years in a row.

Yes. Daring Do was, as Sugar Song liked to say, “A mare of many talents.”

“You’re a total idiot,” Sugar Song said.

 

A mare of many talents indeed. But tragically, “blending in at a classy party” wasn’t one of those talents. Alas, Daring Do could only care about important stuff, such as saving the world or discovering ancient civilizations. It was, then, perfectly normal for a mare like her to be at a loss at social events.

 

“You’re making your narrating face,” Sugar Song continued, brushing some snow from Daring Do’s shoulder and making sure her tie was done correctly. They were still waiting in line, faint muttering all around them, a chilly breeze rustling their manes and stirring the snowflakes. “So before you even start, let me tell you that no matter what excuse you’re making up at the moment, you’re still an idiot.”

 

And so, having predicted that she was not going to fit into that crowd anyway, Daring Do had made a cunning plan. The most cunning of plans. The perfect way to both look like just one more mare in the crowd, and still have enough mobility to deal with what problems may arise. Truly, it was—

 

“You look like a mediocre standup comedian desperately longing for his ex-wife to come back,” Song said. “I thought it was impossible to look stupid in such a precise, detailed way, but once more you prove the impossible is possible, Yearling.”

 

“Okay.” Daring Do sighed and glared at Sugar Song. “Can you please let me narrate in peace?! I’m trying to praise myself here!”

 

Song arched an eyebrow. “Praise yourself?”

 

“Praise myself!”

 

“…Maybe to get some self-esteem back?”

 

“Maybe to get some self-esteem back!”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“You’re incredibly aware of just how stupid you look, aren’t y—”

 

Yes, Daring Do thought. The perfect plan. Clearly, the beloved hero was second to none when it came to overcoming her own weaknesses! And as she fixed her perfectly functional, unisex suit, a marvelous piece of clothing thank-you-very-much, she looked up and dismissed Sugar Song’s face entirely. She had more important things to worry about this evening.

 

Canterlot Castle lay in front of them, its silhouette a stark shadow against the full moon, gentle snowflakes painting their surroundings white. Daring Do squinted. She didn’t like the castle. She didn’t like Hearth’s Warming Eve. But she had a duty to fulfill.

 

Song made a face. “Ugh. Whatever. It’s not like we can do anything about it anymore. At least keep that pendant hidden; it’s hideous, and clashes with your tie.”

 

Daring didn’t say a word. She just hid the pendant, looked up, and prepared for the worst.

 

It was Hearth’s Warming Night and, in Canterlot, that meant it was time for the Hearth’s Warming Canterlot Ball. Not as grandiose as the Grand Galloping Gala, but definitely more solemn. The Hearth’s Warming Ball was – as pretty much any kind of formal gathering in this city – an affair with a huge reputation, and a really selective attendance list.

 

It was an opportunity for the crème de la crème of Equestria to gather. They would frolic in the castle, have inane chatter, be hypocrites, seal deals, shake hooves, and show off their riches. Because they obviously didn’t have enough chances to do that on a daily basis, no.

 

And of course, Daring Do had gotten an invite. Oh-so-honored-to-have-you, RSVP, plus one, eleven sharp, classy occasion, formal wear, haute cuisine, please-don’t-swing-on-the-chandelier-this-time. It was the most Canterlot thing Daring had read in ages, and Sugar Song had to physically restrain her from throwing the envelope into the fireplace and then burn the hotel down after reading it.

 

After all, there was a reason why Daring Do lived in the jungle. She hated fancy. She despised classy. She thought RSVP invitations were annoying, and she liked swinging on chandeliers because it was really fun. Going to the Hearth’s Warming Ball would be nothing less than torture for her.

 

“If you dislike this so much, then why did you agree to come?” Sugar Song huffed as they finally made it to the door. “You’re just going to ruin the evening for me if you keep being all grumpy like that.”

 

“You know that wasn’t an option,” Daring grumbled as they entered the castle and walked up the stairs. The hall was big, fancy, and full of nobleponies. A small orchestra was already playing some kind of waltz Daring had never heard before, and the dance floor was full of couples dancing in the most boring way possible.

 

Tables to the sides, five exits, huge windows – no bars, just glass – that overlooked the garden. Columns, tall velvet curtains, and stairs – at least a thousand hiding points, if needed. Guards at the doors and near the windows. They looked buff enough; Daring gave them an approving nod.

 

“Doctor Caballeron is plotting something,” she said, looking at Song again. “And I’m sure my informant can help me with that.”

 

Sugar Song blinked at that. “You have an informant in the castle?”

 

“Why do you think I got the invite?” Daring said, shrugging. The pendant around her neck – big, golden, and ugly – dangled around uncomfortably. “I wasn’t asked to come here, I was pretty much forced. And to be honest, this is the best place to meet up. Nopony will suspect anything if they see us talking here.”

 

“Oh. So this is just for Doctor Caballeron? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

 

“Didn’t have the time. I thought you’d kind of guess that on your own, too,” Daring Do said, tching her tongue and looking around. No sign of her informant. They moved to one of the tables on the sides, and nibbled on some of the pastries there. “I mean, we’re working our butts off trying to stop Caballeron from taking over the world again and suddenly I’m all for coming here for a night out? Come on, Song, you’re better than that.”

 

“I guess, when you put it like that…” Song took a flute of champagne with her magic and held in front of her. “I thought you’d been imbedded with a little bit of, I don’t know. Hearth’s Warming spirit, for once. You’re too focused on your work. I’m sure even Caballeron is taking a break tonight.”

 

“Hey, I’m in a holiday mindset.” Daring pointed at her chest. “Check this tie out. It’s a really Hearth’s Warming tie.”

 

“It’s black.”

 

“Hearth’s Warming black.”

 

“It’s not even a pretty shade of black.”

 

“Really brings out the holiday mood.”

 

“It’s the ugliest black I’ve ever seen.” Sugar took a sip of champagne. “And don’t let me start on the golden chain, that’s just – Oh?” Her ears perked up and she looked at the glass. “Hey, this is actually pretty good. You should try it out!”

 

“Maybe later.” Daring looked around once more, checking out the crowd. She saw no familiar faces yet. The pendant was too warm and too heavy for her tastes. “Don’t get too cozy anyway – the moment we get what we want, we’re out.”

 

“Really?” Song frowned. Daring wasn’t looking at her, but she could tell by the way her voice changed. “Can’t we at least enjoy the party a little bit? It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve!”

 

“Yes. Thanks for pointing that out. I had forgotten already.”

 

“But look around you!” Song grabbed Daring’s shoulders and made a broad gesture, pointing at the whole hall around them. “We’re at Canterlot Castle for the best night of the year, Yearling! It’s snowing outside, there’s an orchestra playing, we have fancy food with us – let’s celebrate!”

 

This made Daring grunt and, for once, pay full attention to her secretary. “Why, yes,” she said. “We have fancy food I don’t like, I can’t see the snow from here, and that orchestra is pretty lame. This definitely calls for a party.” She wrinkled her muzzle as Song frowned at her. “This is just not my style, okay? All this… Formal wear, and silk curtains, and – woah, is that a new chandelier?”

 

Song looked up. “Oh my. Yes, it is.”

 

“It’s… actually pretty cool.”

 

“Is it made of diamonds or just glass? I can’t tell from here.”

 

“I have no idea, but it’s giving me cravings.” Daring sighed and looked down. “Argh, this just made the evening worse.”

 

Song rolled her eyes. “You’re being a buzzkill on purpose. Don’t you feel at least a little bit of holiday spirit? Why can’t we just enjoy the party and have a good time? Hearth’s Warming is about being together in harmony!”

 

“Hearth’s Warming,” Daring said, “is about getting presents when you’re a kid, and then being corny when you’re an adult. We have better things to do, Song. Caballeron won’t take the day off, and neither will I. We get the info we need, and we’re out.”

 

“Argh. I can’t stand you when you get like this.” Song took another sip of champagne, and then tched her tongue. “And of course, they’re already looking at us. We stick out like a sore thumb, Yearling. Curse that stupid suit of yours.”

 

“Ponies don’t have thumbs.”

 

“Your suit is stupid enough to make up for that.”

 

“Bah.”

 

Daring Do didn’t bother to listen to Song’s silly words, but she had to admit that she had a point, kind of. Daring didn’t need to look around to know that, indeed, quite the number of nobleponies had their eyes fixed on them.

 

Ah, but was that just because of her suit? Daring smirked as she looked at Sugar Song, standing next to her, sipping her champagne without a care in the world.

 

“Oh, Celestia, don’t do that,” Song said.

 

Sugar Song was her secretary – a little over three months into the job, and she had already proved herself more capable than any other assistant Daring had ever had. She was a light blue unicorn, with small red glasses on top of her muzzle, and while Daring had never really noticed if her helpers were pretty or not…

 

“When you smirk with your narration face on, you look like you want to assault me.”

 

Well, one had to admit that Song really knew how to wear a dress after seeing her in formal attire. No wonder some of the young stallions in the crowd stared.

 

“Yearling!”

 

Daring Do grumbled. Her neck was itchy. “Yes, yes. I was just trying to–”

 

“Check me out, yes, whatever, duly noted!” Song put her glass down and pointed at something behind Daring, huge smile on her face, her frown all but gone. “Look at that!”

 

Daring turned. As on cue, the orchestra stopped, eight trumpeters came from behind the stairs – yeah she could have guessed that – and all together, they started a new song.

 

The melody was simple, and it lingered just long enough to build the right sense of expectation. Conversations ended. The musicians went for a crescendo, the song growing and growing but never really reaching the high point.

 

Everypony looked at the stairs. Some held their breath. Song’s eyes sparkled, the goofy smile still adorning her features, like a child on Hearth’s Warming Eve, her—

 

“Yeah, this is when Celestia walks in,” Daring said.

 

“Yearling!” The smile disappeared as Song turned and glared at her. “Don’t ruin the moment!”

 

“And you turned around just in time to miss her entrance,” Daring said, taking a glass of champagne and sipping.

 

Song rolled her eyes at the obvious lie. The music was still playing, the crowd was still staring, and—

 

Celestia walked in just as Song was about to say this.

 

Daring Do knew that this fanfare wasn’t usual. As much as she disliked social gatherings, this wasn’t her first time at the rodeo, and while Princess Celestia was always a sight to behold, everypony was pretty much used to her.

 

But then again, it was Hearth’s Warming Eve. The most magical night of the year, if you were to listen to the kind of ponies who lack any self-awareness and genuinely think carols are a neat thing. So it wasn’t really that great, the holiday, not in Daring Do’s opinion.

 

Princess Celestia, though? On that night, she was magical. It was something less corporeal, more spiritual. The way her eyes seemed to glow. The way her dress augmented her beauty. Celestia looked old and beautiful on Hearth’s Warming Eve.

 

“Yearling! You did that on purpose! You freaking jerk, I’m going to—!”

 

So for a night, everypony allowed themselves to be impressed again. Sometimes, when you see beauty every day, you forget how to appreciate it. That night, Celestia looked brilliant, and such fanfare was the least they could do.

 

“Oh. Is that Princess Luna?” Song tapped Daring’s shoulder and pointed. “That’s her, right?”

 

“Princess Luna? Hey, I’ve never met her before.” Daring squinted. “Where?”

 

“Behind Celestia!”

 

Indeed, there she was. Dressed in black, just as her sister was dressed in white.

 

Daring saw the Princess of the Night for the first time that evening, and—

 

“Oh, hey, wait. They’re walking down the stairs already?” Daring put her champagne down and rushed through the hall towards the princesses, holding the pendant with one hoof so it wouldn’t swing around. “Forget it, I’ll write that bit later. Song, take note on how Luna looks for me, okay?”

 

“Ah?” Song stood there for a second or two, dumbfounded, until she noticed Daring was gone and chased her. Not without difficulty, as the hall was pretty crowded, and most of the ponies in there were rushing towards the princesses on their own. “Ah! Yes, sure! Uhh…” She squinted. “I’d say… ‘Astounding’? Does ‘astounding’ work?”

 

“I specifically asked you to check for me so I wouldn’t have to answer that question, Song!”

 

“Uh, okay. Then, I’d say that she looks astounding, and that the… uh, darkness of her dress… makes her shine? The stars in her mane twinkle a little. She, uh. Has a gentle light, like a winter moon?”

 

“Wow, comparing Princess Luna to the moon. That one’s original.” Daring managed to push aside the last noblepony and rushed towards the Princesses. “Remind me to never let you write again.”

 

“You don’t pay me for that anyway!”

 

They made it to the top of the stairs. Daring turned around to wink at Song one last time before pushing past another pony and stepping before the princesses. “Your Majesty!” she said, elbowing a noblepony so he would give them room and then nodding Celestia. “I need to talk to you. Probably to you too, Other Majesty. Nice to meet you, by the way.”

 

Around them, the nobleponies gasped and grumbled, shooting glances at Daring. One of them said something like “I say!” and readjusted his monocle, and a pink mare wearing a saddle whispered, in that special way that makes sure every pony in the room hears what one says perfectly, that some ponies just had no education whatsoever.

 

“Yearling!” Song managed to get to the princesses, too, and she celebrated the fact by slapping Daring upside the head.

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Are you actively trying to be this embarrassing, or does this just come naturally to you?!” Song yelled, in a voice so fierce it was less a yell and more like a snarl. “I’m so, so sorry for my companion’s actions, Your Highnesses. She really means well, she’s just too stupid by… By…” Sugar Song’s words died in her mouth. “Uh. You’re laughing?”

 

Not exactly. Celestia was chuckling, hiding her mouth behind a hoof to muffle the sound a little. She waved a hoof, and in less than five seconds the crowd of nobleponies had dispersed, and they were relatively alone.

 

“I see that you weren’t exaggerating, my dear Daring Do,” she finally said. “It’s much nice to see you, indeed.” She gave them both a gentle smile, and then looked at Song. “Hello, my little pony. You’re the famous Sugar Song, I expect?”

 

Luna perked up her ears at this. “Oh?” She looked at Sugar Song and smiled ever-so-slightly. “I see.” She offered a hoof. “Charmed to meet you.”

 

“I, uh.” Sugar Song closed her mouth, then opened it, then closed it again, and shook Luna’s hoof. She had the look of a goldfish trying to understand string theory. “Uh. You… know me?”

 

“Daring Do has mentioned you a lot lately in her letters, yes,” Luna said. “And my sister holds her opinions in high regard. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”

 

“Yes, yes, sure.” Daring didn’t even bother looking at Luna. “Celestia, we need to talk.”

 

“You hav–you know she’s Daring Do?” Song asked. “And you exchange letters?!”

 

Daring arched an eyebrow. “Again: why do you think I got the invite?”

 

Song tried to reply. She really tried. Unfortunately, she ended up doing her aquatic impersonation again.

 

Daring Do couldn’t help but smirk at her secretary’s bewilderment. Of course she knew Celestia. She was an archeologist, after all, and the princess was old enough to have been there when most of the junk she dug was created.

 

Celestia and Daring were old-time friends, a relationship that went back to Daring Do’s formative years, in fact. Daring had been the only pony reckless enough to harass a millennium-old alicorn over some newly-discovered ruins.

 

Celestia had liked that. It was a lonely life at the top, and meeting someone with Daring Do’s natural charm and complete disregard for the rules of society had been a burst of fresh air for her. They’d been exchanging letters since then, both having a life that was just too busy to meet under normal circumstances.

 

“Um.” Luna looked at Daring, then at Song – who was doing her goldfish impersonation again, although this time she kinda looked more like a tuna – then at Daring again. “I know her surprise is a little exaggerated, but I don’t think assaulting your secretary is the right way to go, Daring Do.”

 

“No, no, no.” Celestia tapped Luna’s shoulder and shook her head. “It’s not – she’s just narrating, Luna. She does that now and then, don’t let it bother you.”

 

“Oh. Really?”

 

“I don’t have the best visual memory out there, so I write on the go,” Daring explained. “I’ll type it later. Anyway! Celestia, we have to—”

 

“Your informant is the Princess?!” Song shrieked.

 

“Took you long enough, huh.” Daring looked at Luna and pointed at Song. “Mind filling her in? I want to get over with this quick.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“But you never even interact with her in your books!” Song continued.

 

“It’d compromise my identity. I prefer it if nopony knows about my real-life friends.” Daring Do shrugged, and then offered a hoof at Celestia. “Care for a dance? We gotta talk business.”

 

“I’d be charmed.”

 

And so, Celestia took Daring Do’s hoof, and they walked to the dance floor, the crowd of nobleponies still keeping their distance.

 

As if on cue – well, probably on cue, actually, as it was Celestia herself who had just stepped on the dance floor – the orchestra ended their song. Celestia looked at Daring Do, Daring Do looked at Celestia, they both assembled their hooves and hips in a socially appropriate way, the orchestra started a new waltz, and off to dance they went.

 

One gesture and half a word had been all Celestia needed to get them some privacy, Daring Do thought. It was such a tiny thing, but all the nobleponies had reacted immediately, as if they were trained dogs.

 

And the worst thing was, Daring knew that, had Celestia asked Daring to leave her alone just like that, she would have obeyed, too.

 

“My dear Daring Do, I’m fairly sure narrating after asking a lady to dance with you is against the rules of courtesy.”

 

Right. Contemplation later. Business first.

 

“Yes, yes. Sorry, Princess.” Daring smiled and then tried her hardest to move to the music. She failed. Hard. Celestia was really good at this, but not enough to make up for both. “So,” she said, tripping and getting this close to falling down. “Doctor Caballeron.”

 

“Doctor Caballeron?”

 

“Doctor Caballeron,” Daring Do assessed. “He’s planning something. Something big. I need your insight. He beat me to the Windigo’s First Breath. It’s a pendant, made of ice that can’t melt. Pretty neat. Turns out it was hidden in a grave in the Crystal Empire.” She took the golden pendant from under her shirt and showed it to Celestia. “However, I beat him to this.”

 

Celestia’s eyes got wide. “The Ifrit’s Last Word.”

 

“Solid fire. Sounds cool as a concept, but I don’t think it’s fit for formal wear. You have anything to do with its creation?”

 

Celestia blinked once the pendant disappeared from her sight, back under Daring Do’s shirt, and then sighed. The waltz got a little faster, so they picked up the pace. The result wasn’t pretty; Daring didn’t know the difference between a waltz and a conga. “You cut straight to the chase, don’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It’s Hearth’s Warming,” Celestia said. “I highly doubt Caballeron will—”

 

“Caballeron won’t stop just because some ponies are singing carols, Celestia.”

 

Another sigh. Celestia nodded. “He won’t pause his plans just for the holiday. But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t rest for a while, Daring Do.”

 

Daring sighed. “You too? Song keeps talking about this. Look, it’s Hearth’s Warming. I get it. I’m celebrating it, okay?”

 

“You are?”

 

“Sure. Right now, my own way.”

 

Celestia let out a hearty laugh. The song made a halt, and she twirled Daring Do.

 

 

 

 

“So, did my eyes just fool me?” Sugar Song asked, making another meaningless champagne toast with Luna in what was slowly but surely becoming the most frustrating reunion to every noblepony ever. “Or did Yearling just get twirled by the most feminine pony I’ve ever seen?”

 

“No, they didn’t, and yes, she was,” Luna said in the flat, self-aware, always-sassy tone sidekicks use whenever they get together. “My sister is, I’m afraid, quite used to leading.”

 

Song arched an eyebrow. “Was that a joke?”

 

“Was what a joke?”

 

Song smiled. Luna smiled back. In the background, a noblepony massaged her temples so hard she got a headache and had to excuse herself for the night.

 

The Hearth’s Warming Ball was a social event that called for new dresses, new gossip, and a lot of whispers and appeals to authority, and the nobleponies loved that. It was the perfect way to make new friends and forget old friendships, and this was only the second year with Princess Luna back in Canterlot.

 

The Princesses were celebrities in their own rights on a daily basis, but on the Hearth’s Warming Ball, they were more than that. Because they were friendly and open, and prettier than ever. And Luna was still a new addition to society, but one that was definitely going to get big – bigger, as she was already royalty – so having a bond with her was a surefire investment.

 

And that’s why more or less any pony with at least a little bit of ambition in the crowd started to hate Sugar Song with a passion that day, because Luna’s body language sent only one message, and it was clear: I Like This One, You All Get Away.

 

“May I ask you a question, Sugar Song?” Luna asked, moving closer to her, still looking at Celestia and Daring Do’s coordinated stumbling. “A personal one?”

 

“Of course, Princess.” Song smiled at Luna and tilted her flute of champagne ever-so-slightly. She liked Luna. She had this forced casual aura around her, as if she was trying her best to keep herself at bay. The reasons why was obvious – and a little sad – but it still made it surprisingly relaxing to talk with her. “Ask as much as you want.”

 

Luna nodded. “What do you think of Daring Do?”

 

This made Sugar Song blink. “Well, she’s my boss,” she said after a moment, putting the glass down on the table. There were no chairs nearby, so she couldn’t sit down. A shame. “She’s also my friend. I’d say we’re pretty close at this point.”

 

“But you call her ‘Yearling’. Surely, you must know that’s not his real name.”

 

“Yearling is the one paying the checks, and that’s the name she gave me when we met for the first time,” Song continued. “And legally talking, I’m A.K. Yearling’s secretary, not Daring Do’s. It would be weird if I went around calling my employer by her main creation’s name.”

 

“I suppose that is true.” Luna’s eye twinkled in a funny way. Or maybe Song had just imagined it. “But you seem to be too intimate to maintain that kind of… formality. I don’t know much about friendship, but I’d assumed that, if Celestia calls her Daring Do…”

 

“Yearling likes it better when it when I call her Daring Do, yes,” Song said, shrugging. Her dress made a froufrou noise, and in the background, Celestia gave up trying to dance properly and just lifted Daring Do and moved her along the music, like a kid playing with a toy. “That’s part of the reason why I call her Yearling.”

 

“Because she doesn’t like it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I… don’t seem to understand.”

 

Song took her glass again, eyed Celestia and Daring – they really weren’t having a good time there – and then looked up, deep in thought.

 

Having lived three months of adventuring with Daring, she was used to dealing with powerful-and-slightly-sociopathic monsters by this point. The last one had been the Lord of All Horses, Sleipnir the Eight-Legged, who had tried to destroy the world last week.

 

That guy had been a class-A megalomaniac, and also kind of an idiot when it came to social interactions. Daring Do and Sugar Song had struck him down with a mixture of empathy, honest talk, and a hammer to the face. Talking to him – he had captured Song prisoner to lure Daring Do to a trap, because Sleipnir the Eight-Legged could walk in eight dimensions but only think in one, apparently – Sugar Song had felt like she was talking to a really big, really powerful baby.

 

There was this… cluelessness about villains like Sleipnir the Eight Legged that spoke miles about their mindset. They didn’t understand what friendship, love, idle chat, or courtesy was, because they’d been alone for most of their lives. Lonely life, that of the top, she supposed.

 

Luna was kind of like that. She had all the thought process of a tyrant-wannabe. But she was actively trying to learn, as if trying to cope with her past mistakes. Probably trying to cope with her past mistakes, in fact. Maybe that’s why Sugar Song liked her so much.

 

“Well, there are many kinds of friendship,” Song eventually said. “I like Yearling. I really, really like Yearling – I think she’s the bravest, kindest, most selfless pony I’ve ever met, and I hold her in high regard.” She sighed. “I’d give a leg to see her relax and just have a good time for once, in fact. She gives too much and takes too little, you know?”

 

Luna cocked her head to the side. One of her eyes got covered by her mane. “Oh?”

 

“Yes. She never takes a break. I mean, look at this! We’re at the Hearth’s Warming Ball! This is an amazing occasion, at least for us, and does she care at all? Does she calm down and party for once?” Song snorted and paced the floor with a hoof. “Of course not. For her, it’s just work, work, and more work.”

 

Luna smirked at this. It wasn’t a smile – it was a genuine smirk, and it fit the princess’ otherwise perfectly innocent face like a cubist sculpture fits a bathroom. “Oh, I see,” she said, talking really slowly. “You want her to relax, then, because you care for her. You want the best for her.”

 

Oh. So it wasn’t as much a smirk as her ‘understanding normal ponies’ face. Well, that was sort of cute. “I want the best for her, yeah. I’m also a little bit annoyed at her lack of Hearth’s Warming spirit, to be honest.”

 

“Ah. Celebrations come in many shapes and sizes,” Luna said, shrugging as well. “Hearth’s Warming, too. But I still don’t understand why you call her Yearling, I’m afraid.”

 

“I was getting to that,” Song said. She took another glass of champagne – her third; better to stop there, or else she’d get tipsy – and then nodded towards the dance floor.

 

Luna looked confused, but followed her when she started walking. And as they moved, the nobleponies shifted too to let them pass.

 

“You see,” Song continued, heading not exactly towards the dance floor proper, but slightly to the right, “when you are close enough to a pony, no matter what you do you’ll be forgiven. I mean, there’s obviously a line to be crossed, but–”

 

“I know more than anypony else about forgiveness, Sugar Song,” Luna interrupted, her voice soft.

 

“Oh.” Song blinked. “Yes. Right. Sorry.”

 

“You’re forgiven.”

 

Luna’s voice had sounded more normal this time. Song gave a sigh of relief, and then a small roll of her eyes. “Hah-hah. Really funny. Anyway, if you know you’re going to be forgiven, a little teasing here and there can be really fun. Spices up a friendship, see?”

 

Luna arched an eyebrow. The dance floor was now at their left, and the orchestra was right next to them. The nobleponies, again, were conveniently away from them. “Does it?”

 

“Of course. Here, let me give you an example.” Song pointed at the dance floor, where Daring and Celestia were dancing in a way that could only be described as ‘epileptic’. “Those two are having a real good time dancing a slow waltz, right?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Yes,” Song said. In the background, Celestia twirled Daring Do again, dropped her, she stumbled, she fell down, Celestia picked her up, and Celestia twirled her again. Three seconds, it took them. “Exactly.” Song pointed at the orchestra. “And don’t you think we can make it better?”

 

At first, Luna didn’t seem to get it. Then, she saw the downright evil expression in Sugar Song’s face, and she met it with one on her own.

 

 

 

 

“So the—gaaah! The Windigo’s First Breath can actually be—argh! Be used to bring eternal winter to the l—would you please stop twirling me already?!”

 

“Believe me, I’m trying my best to save face.”

 

“Yes, sorry, I can’t tell!”

 

Dancing had perhaps been a mistake. Daring Do had assumed that the nobleponies wouldn’t mind her taking Celestia for herself if it was for a dance, and so they would have some well-deserved privacy to discuss business.

 

But, apparently, it had been a completely needless move. Daring Do could clearly see Sugar Song and Princess Luna talking near one of the tables, drinking champagne, and the nobleponies weren’t bothering them. The daredevil was seriously considering–

 

“The Windigo’s First Breath can freeze the land,” Celestia said as Daring Do fumbled around her like a tumbleweed in a hurricane. “The Ifrit’s Last Word can scorch it.”

 

“Scorch it? Wow. Good thing I beat him to it then.”

 

“Yes. They were created before I came to Equestria, in the time of – is that Luna and Sugar Song talking with the orchestra?”

 

“What?” Daring looked. “Oh. They are. Say, would you say your sister cares about you, Princess?”

 

“Undoubtedly.”

 

“Okay then. We’re screwed.”

 

Celestia blinked. “Excuse me?”

 

Daring Do opened her mouth, but she never got to reply.

 

Thunder roared.

 

The floor trembled.

 

The main doors slammed shut.

 

Somepony laughed.

 

Somepony screamed.

 

And as all the windows in Canterlot Castle broke at once, giant chunks of broken glass rained on them like falling snow.

 

Everything went blurry for a second, and the glass seemed to fall slowly, as if they were underwater. Daring Do felt her stomach bump from the shock. For a second she thought Luna and Song were responsible for this.

 

Then Celestia gasped, let her go, and Daring hit the floor face-first. Which was exactly what she needed, because it cleared her thoughts. No way Luna and Song had done this.

 

There was just one pony who would attack Canterlot Castle during Hearth’s Warming Eve. Only one pony was evil and stupid enough to plan something like that.

 

“Caballeron,” Daring Do whispered, as the giant doors opened on their own and her nemesis entered the Hall, blue pendant around his neck, riding a cloud made of mist and ice.

 

“Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve, everypony!” Caballeron yelled, with a smile that showed a lot of teeth and a lot of madness. Outside, thunder roared again. Caballeron took the pendant and rose it above his head with a final guffaw. “And happy. New. Year!”

 

There was a spark, a flash of white, and chaos followed.

 

The nobleponies had been staring in shock to this moment, frozen by their own surprise, but at one point one single mare cleaned her mind just enough to let out a single, high-pitched scream. That was all that was needed to break the dam – all the nobleponies started screaming and running at the same time, not knowing where to go, knocking tables and chairs over, tripping, falling, crying.

 

The Royal Guards tried to calm them down, but to no avail. There were too many, and they were too far gone. That wasn’t a crowd anymore, it was a scared mob. Caballeron, wicked grin still on his face, laughed harder than ever before.

 

Daring Do got on her hooves, unbuttoned her jacket, and got the Ifrit’s Last Word out, giant glimmering smirk on her face, not so different from Caballeron’s if you looked at it under a certain light.

 

 

 

 

Sugar Song flinched when the windows exploded inwards, but by the time Caballeron entered, riding that magical cloud – he was an earth pony, so that was obviously a magical cloud – she had already got her senses back. Behind her, the orchestra was panicking, and Luna seemed to have gone mute.

 

There was no fear in Sugar Song’s mind as she saw Doctor Caballeron showing magical powers for no reason, or when she heard him congratulate the entire castle in what she was sure he thought was sarcastic wit.

 

Nah. She was way too used to this to be afraid. Sugar Song’s mind wasn’t frozen with shock, panic, or surprise.

 

There was only exasperation.

 

“Oh, cookie dough, he attacked on Hearth’s Warming Eve. She’s never gonna let me live this down,” Sugar Song muttered behind gritted teeth.

 

 

 

 

“Oh cookie dough, he attacked on Hearth’s Warming Eve. I’m never gonna let her live this down,” Daring Do snarled under her breath as she hid behind Celestia, blinking as fast as she could.

 

“You okay?” Celestia whispered, not looking at her. Her eyes were fixed on Caballeron, the only . “Did the flash blind you?”

 

“A little.” Daring Do rubbed her eyes and looked around. Her ears perked up when she noticed that she hadn’t been seeing things before – the broken glass, some chunks bigger than Daring herself, were indeed either suspended in midair or not falling at all. Huh. Weird. “Cover me, I’ll get him from behind. Song is with Luna.”

 

“Raise the Ifrit’s Last Word and concentrate on its warmth if he gets you,” Celestia muttered before taking a step forward. “Doctor Caballeron!” she yelled, horn sparking with a golden light as bright as the Windigo’s First Breath.

 

Her voice was clear and rose above the crowd’s screaming like a fish jumping out of the water. And suddenly, there was silence. The Royal Guards all looked at her, the nobleponies stopped – still hysterical, mind you, but they’d been taught from early foalhood that when the Princess talks you don’t – and Caballeron’s laugh was cut short.

 

Celestia drank in the silence, horn still shining warmly, giving the nobleponies a chance to breathe and Daring Do a chance to sneak out behind her and get lost in the crowd. Then, she spoke again.

 

“Caballeron!” she said, and the awe-inducing, beautiful aura she had that night became hot and sharp like a knife in a forge. “You come to my castle uninvited on Hearth’s Warming Eve, and you attack my guests! What is your purpose?”

 

“My purpose? What do you think is my purpose, Celestia?!” Caballeron raised the Windigo’s First Breath above his head. “I will bring you down and rule over your throne for everything that you have done to me, that’s my purpose!”

 

Celestia bared her teeth. “Is there any way we can solve this peacefully, doctor?”

 

“Never!”

 

“Then you leave me no choice. Guards!” Celestia pointed at Caballeron with her horn. The Royal Guards stood straight, then pointed their spears at him, too. “Take him down!”

 

“Yes, your high—”

 

“Oh, my dear Celestia,” Caballeron replied. “I’m afraid that’s snow what’s gonna happen!”

 

There was another flash of white, forcing everypony to cover their eyes.  A couple nobleponies screamed.

 

And when they were able to see again…

 

…absolutely nothing had happened.

 

The crowd looked around and muttered. Celestia looked at her Guards, and her pupils shrank. The Royal Guards kept pointing their spears at Caballeron.

 

Caballeron looked down, frowned, and poked the Windigo’s Last Breath. “Uh. Is this working?” He rose it again, there was a flash of white, he looked down. “What? Why isn’t this working? Your Guard is supposed to be frozen!”

 

“They are frozen,” Celestia whispered, ears down. “You monster.”

 

“What? No they’re not?” Caballeron looked down again. Now that he looked better, sure, the Royal Guards weren’t moving at all, not even blinking. But… “I mean, where’s the ice?”

 

This made Celestia blink. “Uh. Ice?”

 

“Ice! I mean, hello? Windigo’s First Breath?” He waved the pendant around. “Supposed to freeze the entire world? I thought this was, like, all about ice magic!”

 

“Oh. Well, technically it’s ice magic. It’s ice-based magic.” She shrugged. “It just doesn’t summon actual ice.”

 

“What?! Why not?!”

 

“That… would actually be a waste of energy,” Celestia explained. “The pendant can freeze – as in, immobilize – anypony, so summoning a block of ice and snow on top of that is pretty useless.”

 

“Useless? But I…!” Caballeron looked at the Windigo’s First Breath again. “That tomb was filled with prophecies about eternal winter! I had prepared a whole speech about smothering the sun with my ice! I’ve spent weeks working on the imagery!”

 

“I’m afraid the tomb’s words must have been metaphorical.”

 

Silence.

 

“You are kidding me right now, aren’t you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh, for the love of—”

 

“Oh, puh-lease.” A voice came from among the nobleponies – Blueblood’s. The prince was looking at Caballeron, upper lip tweaked in a mix of disgust and boredom. “Such an ineffective villain. You don’t even know what the scope of your own plan is, this is just—”

 

“Okay, you know what? To hell with it. This is still a good plan.” Caballeron raised the pendant, and there was a pling! and another flash of white. “There. I just froze your nephew. Blah blah blah, killing you all, blah blah, evil mastermind, blah blah blah, cower in fear, I’m keeping the ice puns. Hail, Caballeron!”

 

 And he raised the pendant again. Chaos followed…

 

But there was no flash of white. The flash was golden, and Caballeron yelped and almost dropped the pendant, his right hoof red with pain.

 

“What in the name of…?!”

 

“Careful with that thing, Doctor!” a voice yelled from right behind Caballeron. “You’re playing with fire!”

 

“Daring Do!” Caballeron roared. “You?!”

 

“Daring Do!” Daring Do roared back, hovering right behind Doctor Caballeron, the Ifrit’s Last Word on her hoof. “Me!”

 

“What are you doing here?! And what on Equestria are you wearing?” Caballeron cocked his head to the side. “I had no idea you’d been married.”

 

“Hey, I’m a classy lady, I have – what?” Daring Do frowned. Then her ears perked up and she looked at her suit. “Oh. Har, har, har. Bite me, Doc.”

 

“You look like a washed-up comedian. And you have the Ifrit’s Last Word.” Caballeron squinted as his eyes laid on the golden pendant. “Good.” He raised the Windigo’s First Breath. “It will be a good addition to my collection once I take it from your cold, cold dead hooves!”

 

“Hah!” Daring Do dodged the ray of light effortlessly and twirled the Ifrit’s Last Word on her hoof. “You wish! I’m just warming up!”

 

Caballeron stomped on the magical cloud, and it started shimmering. “Last Laugh!” he yelled. “Change of plans, do it now!”

 

“Princess, take the nobleponies to a safe place!” Daring Do took off her jacket, tossed it aside, and rolled up her sleeves. “I’ll be taking care of this!”

 

They both raised their pendants, and the floating chunks of broken glass shone like diamonds under their lights.

 

 

 

 

Beautiful picture, that of the floating chunks of broken glass shining and all. Luna would have really enjoyed the slightly corny visuals if it wasn’t for the fact that, just as Caballeron yelled something about laughing, something metallic and pointy appeared out of nowhere and went straight for her neck.

 

Credit where credit is due: Luna wasn’t shaken by the attack. She had lived long enough for something as simple as a sword trying to behead her by surprise to be more than a mild annoyance. She had better things to worry about at the moment.

 

She was, however, taken aback by what stopped the sword. Mainly, because it was another sword, and because the one holding it had reacted with the same cold blood as her.

 

Maybe colder blood, even. Sugar Song hadn’t even let the glass of champagne down – she was sipping from it and looking at Daring Do and Caballeron throwing shiny rays at each other. Her horn was glimmering more than usual, and the rapier that had saved Luna’s life, floating in midair and blocking the other sword, had the same kind of glow around its handle.

 

“This wasn’t really well-thought,” she said, readjusting her glasses. “The moment Caballeron came here it was kind of a given you’d follow, Last Laugh.”

 

From the crowd of panicky nobleponies, a single stallion came out. A unicorn, coat light blue, horn glimmering brightly too.

 

The sword that had tried to kill Luna – another rapier – retreated and came back to the lone unicorn. “Sugar Song,” he hissed. “Where on Equestria did you come from?!”

 

“Same place as Daring Do, I’d say.” Song finished the last sip of champagne and finally turned to face Last Laugh. “So, probably your worst nightmares.”

 

“And you brought your stupid sword here?!”

 

Sugar Song looked at her rapier, then at Last Laugh. “Well. Yes.”

 

Luna frowned. “Where did you even carry that?”

 

“This dress has pockets.”

 

“That rapier is over one meter long.”

 

“Really amazing pockets, let me tell you.” Sugar Song shrugged. “Princess Luna,” she said, twirling her rapier in the air and pointing it at Last Laugh, “meet Doctor Caballeron’s lackey and second in command. We’ve butted heads a couple times before, but this is a new low for them.”

 

“I’m going to kill you,” Last Laugh said, eyes flaring.

 

“Taking over the world? That’s fine. But out of all times, you had to attack today.” Song’s glasses reflected the next white flash from the Windigo’s First Breath, hiding her eyes for a second or two. “You didn’t just ruin my evening; you made sure Yearling never takes a break in the whole winter, and pretty much destroyed any plans I had for these holidays. Princess Luna, I’m sure that between the two of us we can—”

 

“Daring Do is taking care of Caballeron,” Luna said, resting her hoof on Song’s shoulder. “I like you, Sugar Song, and you like her. This is my present to you both.”

 

Song’s ears perked up as she looked at Luna. “Present?”

 

Luna smiled. “Every pony is different, Sugar Song. Hearth’s Warming is about enjoying yourself. I’ll leave this to you; I’m going to help my sister and take the nobleponies somewhere safe. Happy holidays.”

 

And just like that, she flapped her wings twice and she was gone.

 

The two ponies followed her with dumbfounded expressions as she flew around the hall, yelling commands at the nobleponies and leading them to the exits in a somewhat orderly fashion. Last Laugh even forgot to try to kill her first.

 

“…You’re an alicorn,” Song finally muttered, squinting, “you have unlimited power, and you choose to point out the doors instead of fighting?”

 

“See?” Last Laugh said, shaking his head. “This is why we don’t need royalty.”

 

“Couldn’t agree more.”

 

He pointed his rapier at the space between her eyes. “Now, dear, if you don’t mind dying?”

 

Song parried the sword away from her face. “By all means, after you.”

 

And the swords started to dance.

 

 

 

 

A flash of white. “I’ll take over the world, Daring Do! And your death will be the icing on the cake!”

 

A flash of gold. “Burn in hell, Caballeron!”

 

White. “Your flaky resistance is futile!”

 

Gold. “It’s called Hearth’s Warming, darling!”

 

White. “Your chances of winning are just like the temperature: below zero!”

 

Gold. “Below zero? We’re both doctors, Caballeron! We’ve got at least two degrees!”

 

Despite clearly dominating the battle of wits, Daring Do was having trouble.

 

It was the pendant’s fault. While Caballeron seemed to control the Windigo’s First Breath flawlessly, she really couldn’t say the same about the Ifrit’s Last Word. It had taken her ages to get it to work, and all she could do was shoot those golden rays if she really concentrated on it. Caballeron, on the other hoof, could shoot as much as he wanted, fly in that cloud, and keep the glass floating around.

 

Which, well, had no real purpose in the fight aside from looking cool, Daring Do supposed. But they did look really cool, and Caballeron still had an unfair advantage.

 

“Gagh!” Daring dodged another of Caballeron’s rays – barely; it grazed the tip of her wing – and darted downwards, holding the Ifrit’s Last Word high. Out of the doctor’s sight, she tried to shoot him twice, but the cloud absorbed it.

 

“Not so passionate now, eh, Daring Do?!”

 

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of you not hitting me either,” she muttered. She’d loved to scream this at his face, but there was no point in showing Caballeron where she was. “Now take this!”

 

Another flash of golden light, and the cloud absorbed it again. Caballeron saw where she was this time, and shot back.

 

Left, right, left, right – Daring zigzagged across the hall, and each time she turned a white ray would hit the ground on the spot she’d been less than a second ago.

 

“You think you’re hot stuff, Daring Do!” Caballeron laughed. “But you’re not even lukewarm!”

 

Daring got to the other side of the hall, so she twirled, kicked the wall, and shot herself in the opposite direction. “C’mon, we both know you’re my biggest fan!” she yelled, shooting back.

 

The cloud absorbed it with little ceremony.

 

Caballeron laughed again, and Daring cursed under her breath. She was starting to feel the strain in her wings – she was a fast flier, but not that much of an ace when it came to endurance.

 

She looked around. The hall was almost empty – Celestia and Luna were still shouting orders and taking the nobleponies to a safe place, but few of them remained.

 

Daring Do knew she had to act fast. The more it took her to take Caballeron out, the more chances he would win. Her drawing first blood had been a fluke

 

Another white ray. Daring Do flew around it, faking lack of effort. “This is a stalemate, Doc!” she said. “You can’t hit me, and I can’t hit you! The Princesses are on my side, and you can’t take us all at the same time! Surrender, and nopony will end up hurt!”

 

“Oh, but somepony is going to get hurt, Daring Do.” Caballeron was twirling his pendant around, an ugly spark in his eye. “I have quite the nasty frostbite.”

 

“No chance in melting that heart of yours, huh?” She dodged the next white ray, again with a nonchalance she wasn’t really feeling. “Well then, Doc, what are you waiting for? This is a ball, let’s dance!”

 

“You don’t really mean that,” Caballeron snarled. He kept twirling the pendant, faster and faster, and it started to shimmer and hum like a nasty fly on a summer morning. “We’ve known each other for a long time, Daring Do. Do you think I can’t see through your bluffs?”

 

Daring gritted her teeth and raised her pendant once more. The cloud absorbed her ray.

 

“Of course I can,” Caballeron said. His grin got wider and wider with every word. “Your intentions are crystal clear.”

 

And with those words, the Windigo’s First Breath flashed white. Daring Do had one second to register this before the sharpest shards of floating glass darted towards her neck at mind-shattering speed.

 

She dodged, and the shards changed directions and followed her again.

 

She dodged a second time, with the same result.

 

Daring Do’s wings were full of old wounds and fragile bones. She had lived a life full of adventures, and that was the price to pay. As she forced them more than ever, she felt some of those old scars burn like hot coals.

 

She gritted her teeth and redoubled her efforts. She couldn’t give up now. She flew around Caballeron in circles, trying to come up with a way to get rid of the shards, but there was no way. They followed her exact path – there was no making a sudden turn and smashing them against a wall this time.

 

“That’s right! We’re twisting the season around this year, Daring Do!” Caballeron said. “This time, the cold catches you!”

 

 

 

 

The rapiers made a buzzing sound as they slashed the air, moving in an almost rhythmical fashion. The ponies danced alone, their horns glimmering like the morning star.

 

“You’ve been training!” Last Laugh said, forcing Song to take a step back. He thrust his rapier, and then three beats, one-two-three, counterbeat and slash to the right, left – duck! – right –  slash! – and the two swords clashed and slid along the blade to the hilt. “But not enough!”

 

Song rolled her eyes, pressing with all her strength. “Yes. Sure. Not enough. Care to remind me how many times you’ve told me this?”

 

“Your empty words aren’t—”

 

“Seven times? That sounds right. And how many times you’ve won?” Song frowned and looked down, feigning concentration. “Hmmm… Zero? Is it zero? I think it’s zero!”

 

“Hah! Foolish girl! That was just a fluke!”

 

He pushed her back, Song tripped, sidestepped, got her balance back – raise the sword! – and parried.

 

A beat, one two, counterbeat, one-two-three, a flick, slash to the left – but it had been a ruse, it was to the right, and – parry and riposte and twirl it around, and back to the beat and one, two, three, and thrust, and Sugar Song had to duck.

 

Last Laugh roared with glee.

 

Sugar Song kicked him in the chest.

 

Last Laugh roared with pain.

 

“A fluke?” Song took a step forward, slash and – wait for the counter, he knows how to counter – and then back and beat and parry, blind, keep his sword downwards, keep it pressed against the ground. “Boy. I wonder what the other six were, then.”

 

Last Laugh hissed. Song threw a kick, but he sidestepped and one-two-three-two and thrust, stab, counter with glissando and slash. “That didn’t count!” he yelled.

 

Parry, riposte. “You were knocked out,” Song said.

 

Counter-riposte. “You threw a hammer to my head!”

 

Duck, thrust. “Yes. I knocked you out.”

 

Duck, twirl – was that necessary? Song was fairly sure that wasn’t necessary – slash from the left. “But that’s not proper fencing!”

 

“Who talked about fencing?” The slash was too obvious, must be a feint, duck and – sidestep, right hoof, left hoof, turn around – and up, down, glissando and hilt pressed against hilt again. “I’m just waving a stick here. You’re so bad that’s more than enough.”

 

Last Laugh roared, pushed her back, and continued slashing around.

 

Song bit her lip, forced to take another step back, and almost tripped when she bumped against the stairs. They had moved away from the tables in their fight – Daring Do and Caballeron were hovering right above them; they were so close Song could hear their voices.

 

“You think you’re such a special snowflake, don’t you?!”

 

“Come on, don’t be a heater!”

 

Well, that wasn’t – switch sides, stab and counterparry and swipe inwards and one-two – that wasn’t the best of soundtracks to a fight, Song guessed, but it was still nice to know that Daring was doing well.

 

One-two-three, counterbeat, Song took another step backwards and suddenly she was on the stairs and had the high ground and two-thee flick right thrust swipe left – no, a faint, swipe right – and then left!

 

She got Last Laugh by surprise.

 

Right!

 

He flinched, and his grip on the rapier faltered.

 

One!

 

Last Laugh yelped.

 

Two!

 

His forehead was full of sweat from the concentration.

 

Three!

 

His sword fell flat against the stairs, and Song stepped on it.

 

The look of horror in his face was priceless. “Well,” Song said, smirking. “I guess this means we’re eight to—”

 

“You’re Daring done! Say your prayers, it was ice meeting—!”

 

“I’m going to stop you right there and save us both the embarrassment, Doctor.”

 

“…Yes. Sorry. It wasn’t my best.”  Caballeron cleared his throat with a cough. “Uh. I’m going to win!”

 

Silence.

 

“…Ter!”

 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Song put her sword down for a second and then pointed at the two fighting above them – well, ‘fighting’. Caballeron was riding his cloud, and Daring was just flying around in circles for some reason – with a frown. “Do they really need to do that?”

 

Last Laugh blinked. “Do what? The witty banter?”

 

“That’s neither witty, nor banter.” Song made a face. “I mean, theyr’e not really throwing ice and fire around! What is your boyfriend’s problem?”

 

“Hey, the doctor has been writing down his plays on words all week,” Last Laugh said. “What is your girlfriend’s excuse?”

 

“Okay, first of all, I already did the ‘implying you’re a couple’ bit. Don’t steal my jokes.” Song stepped harder on Last Laugh’s rapier and felt it bending slightly under her hoof. “And second of all—”

 

Last Laugh punched her in the face.

 

The pain took Song entirely by surprise, and she stumbled backwards. Last Laugh didn’t let her get any space, he just got closer again and punched up towards her chin.

 

Song’s teeth clattered and she fell down, hitting the back of her head against the borders of one step. Her sight got blurry for a second, and she lost her grip on the rapier.

 

Last Laugh didn’t lose a second – he took Song’s sword and, with a powerful jab, smashed it against the balustrade at just the right angle. The blade broke in half.

 

Then he took his sword and pointed it at Song’s neck. “You stopped to talk instead of winning,” he said, awe and amusement in his voice. A small smirk crept to his face. “I can’t believe you fell for the oldest trick in the book.”

 

Song didn’t say a word. She was still feeling dizzy, but the cold steel was a stimuli simple enough for her to understand it.

 

“The mighty Sugar Song,” Last Laugh continued, pressing a little harder against Song’s neck. A drop of blood slid down her chest. “Finally killed, because she couldn’t keep her dumb mouth shut for a—”

 

Song slapped the sword away from her neck – a sharp line of pain ran across her leg as the edge cut her skin – and kicked Last Laugh in the chin.

 

She was still feeling weak, and her footing wasn’t good enough to do any real damage, but she made Last Laugh lose her balance, and he needed two or three seconds to get it back. It was almost enough for Song to get her hopes back.

 

Then she saw her sword was broken.

 

Not really thinking, she grabbed the half with the hilt and ran upstairs. There was nowhere else to go. Last Laugh followed, rapier floating behind him. Once they were all the way to the top, Song saw there was no exit – the main doors were still sealed, and a broken rapier would do nothing against somepony as skilled as Last Laugh.

 

“Game over, Sugar Song,” he said, his voice sweet with hate. “Game over.”

 

Sugar Song looked around. Nothing, there was no escape. The stairs were fifteen meters away from the ground on their highest point, she would never survive the fall without at least one broken leg.

 

Last Laugh’s eyes were shining.

 

Sugar Song made a choice. She turned around, refused to look down, stepped on the balustrade—

 

—and jumped.

 

 

 

 

Recent studies show that a happy couple will develop near-perfect coordination after two years together. After the three-year mark, they will be able to finish each other’s sentences, and from four years onwards they’ll know what the other is thinking.

 

It’s been proved that those feats of timed interaction aren’t based on conscious knowledge, but on instinct and hunches. None of the members of the couple will be actively trying to act in harmony with their lover; it will just happen.

 

 

 

 

As Sugar Song soared through the air, time seemed to stop.

 

 

 

 

The averages vary slightly when the bond between the two ponies is not based on romance, but mere friendship or mutual respect. However, when said friendship is strong enough, the level of coordination can be virtually the same of that between an old married couple.

 

Still, the amount of time needed to achieve this can never be lesser than thirteen months.

 

Sugar Song and Daring Do had known each other for a little over three months.

 

 

 

 

Sugar Song started falling. Behind her, Last Laugh’s expression hadn’t changed, as he hadn’t had time to register what had happened.

 

 

 

 

And to top it all, Sugar hadn’t really talked with Daring, and in fact hadn’t even checked if Daring knew she was there.

 

But those studies with their fancy averages mostly talk about usual relationships. When you became friends with Daring Do, you put your life on the line every twelve hours, and the constant need to rely on each other to remain alive does wonders for friendship.

 

Sugar Song hadn’t said a word because she knew she didn’t have to. Daring would be there. Because if she wasn’t, then Song would die – and then Daring wouldn’t have a chance to tease her about her assurances on Caballeron surely taking a break for Hearth’s Warming.

 

 

 

 

Sugar Song felt something pulling her tail up.

 

 

 

 

Daring Do forgot about the shards completely and darted towards Sugar Song. She managed to grab her tail with her mouth and swung her upwards.

 

 

 

 

Sugar Song swept upwards with her broken sword, smashing the glass shards to pieces with the hilt before they could pierce her and Daring.

 

 

 

 

Then, Daring twirled Sugar Song in midair and threw her away so hard she smashed herself against a wall on accident.

 

 

 

 

Sugar Song went up, and up, and up. She had vertigo for a second or two, and then she saw where she was headed, and smiled.

 

She leaned forwards.

 

And she.

 

Swung.

 

On the chandelier.

 

When she let go, she bounced on one of the giant chunks of floating glass and jumped towards one of the curtains. She took the broken sword on her mouth and stabbed the fabric, then slid down.

 

Her mouth gave up when she was about two meters away from the ground. She twirled in the air, like a cat, and awkwardly managed to land on all fours. Her glasses had fell from her face at some point.

 

She stood there, panting, for a second or two.

 

 

 

 

Daring Do’s wings burned so much she had to lean on the wall not to fall down. In front of her, Doctor Caballeron was staring at Sugar Song, mouth agape. On the stairs, Last Laugh was pretty much doing the same.

 

She couldn’t help but smirk.

 

 

 

 

All around, stunned silence.

 

Sugar Song swallowed, and ran a hoof through her mane.

 

“That,” she finally said, “was amazing.”

 

A pause.

 

“But don’t smirk with your narration face on. You look creepy.”

 

 

 

 

Daring Do felt pride burning in her chest as Song threw another of her quips at her. She was a darn good secretary. Then, she looked at Doctor Caballeron, and thought on ending the whole thing in one shot.

 

“Hey, Caballeron!” she yelled. Then she kicked the wall and threw herself at Caballeron, ignoring the pain not only in her wings, but in her entire back.

 

Caballeron turned to face her.

 

Daring Do raised the Ifrit’s Last Word and held it right in front of her face.

 

Caballeron smiled and raised the Widigo’s First Breath. His eyes shone with a clear message: you want this to end in one shot? Let’s end it with one shot.

 

The Ifrit’s Last Word started to shine as Daring approached Caballeron. The cloud glimmered with anticipation. Caballeron opened his mouth to laugh…

 

“Hey, Caballeron!” Daring yelled. “You’re a horrible nemesis! You’re fired!”

 

And then she lowered the pendant and just punched him in the face with all her strength.

 

 

 

 

Song wasn’t feeling well by the time Last Laugh came running, brandishing his sword and screaming like a maniac. Her head hurt like crazy, she was getting down from her adrenaline high and her legs were trembling. “You won’t escape just like that!” he yelled. “You think just some far-fetched stunt will be enough to—”

 

There was a blur, and he slashed his rapier to the left. Two halves of a glass of champagne fell to the ground.

 

“Hah!” Last Laugh articulated. He didn’t really laugh, he just said that. “Not so good without a sword, I see! A glass is not going to be enough to—”

 

Another blur, another slash to the left. Two halves of a plate, this time.

 

“I tell you, it’s not enough!” Last Laugh yelled. “Stop this futile—”

 

Another blur, another slash to the left, and Last Laugh fell to the ground with a heavy thump, his sword broken in half.

 

Song got her breath back – finally –approached the stallion, and kicked him in the ribs. Then she picked up the hammer that had just landed square on Last Laugh’s forehead.

 

“Fencing. Pfft.” She stuffed the hammer in her other pocket, then patted it. “I love this dress so much. I need to go to that boutique more often.”

 

 

 

 

The white cloud cushioned Caballeron’s fall, so he didn’t break anything when he hit the ground, but Daring Do’s punch would have knocked down a baby elephant. She let go after hitting him and fell too, way less neatly than Sugar Song.

 

Her back was burning, her hoof stung like crazy, and her teeth were clattering. She was still riding that adrenaline high like a horse rides a slightly bigger horse, however. “Ah-hah!” she said, sitting on the ground three meters away from Caballeron, panting. “You baddies always get so crazy with the magical stuff that you forget about punches. Weak! Weak, I tell you!”

 

She shook her head. Her ears were ringing a little, but she was sure that was just a minor concussion. She had hit that wall pretty hard, after all. A quick visit to the hospital, and she’d be fine and dandy again, ready for more—

 

Daring frowned. Wait a minute, Caballeron was out, right? Then how come those giant chunks of glass were still floating? She was pretty sure amulets like the Windigo’s First Breath turned off once their owner got out cold. This made no sense.

 

Then something cold and wet hit her on the back of her head, and it was hard as a brick. Her vision got blurry and she went down face-first. Before she could react, the same thing kickd the Ifrit’s Last Word to the left, away from her hoof.

 

She managed to see what it was then. A small, blurry, white blob. A piece of cloud.

 

“You idiot,” Caballeron grunted. Daring Do gritted her teeth and got her head up. Her whole body was screaming, from the wings to the teeth, and looked. The doctor wasn’t down, and was in fact walking towards her, ice pendant in his hoof. “The cloud absorbs any damage I take. You can’t even start to understand the amount of power I hold. you can’t win.”

 

Daring Do didn’t say a word. She needed to get her strength back. She knew she could shrug off the hit to the head enough to move and do something, but she needed some minutes. She needed to stall Caballeron.

 

But her mouth refused to move. She was still too weak.

 

Caballeron didn’t give her any chance, either. He just got right next to her and held the Windigo’s First Breath right next to her face. “This is it,” he said. “It’s ov—gagh!”

 

He ducked just in time to avoid the flying hammer, then turned around and got tackled by Song. They both fell to the left in a tangled mess of legs. “Leave her alone!” she yelled.

 

“Argh! Get away!” Caballeron kicked Song in the stomach once, and that was all he needed to take her down. Song paled, then fell down and curled up, gasping.

 

Daring got her voice back. “No! Don’t hurt her!”

 

Caballeron got up. The pieces of cloud around him were blurry, almost mist. “Nuisance,” he muttered, shooting Song a venomous look before going back to Daring Do. “Fortunately for both, this will all be over in no time.”

 

“You won’t win,” Daring muttered behind gritted teeth. “You will never win.”

 

“Funny. I think I’ve already have.” He grinned. “Any last words?”

 

Daring Do pondered. Then she flicked her hoof. “Yeah,” she said. “I have some for you right here.”

 

Caballeron looked.

 

The Ifrit’s Last Word that Song had kicked towards Daring Do after tackling Caballeron glimmered.

 

Golden light flashed.

 

But it didn’t hit him. He jumped back with a yelp, but the ray was off – Daring hadn’t really been able to aim in her state. He took another step back in shock, then gave out a hearty laugh.

 

“You failed!” he yelled. “You had me there, and you still failed! I can’t believe you—wait, why are you smiling like that?”

 

And the chandelier fell on top of him.

 

The small pieces of cloud disintegrated instantly, and the giant chunks of glass fell and shattered – thankfully, away from Song and Daring, who were both laying on the ground, unable to get up.

 

There was a moment of silence before any of them could talk.

 

“So,” Song finally said. “Thank you for saving my life.”

 

“Yeah. Thank you for saving my life, too.”

 

“Shame about the chandelier.”

 

“Yeah.” Daring sighed. “Well, at least one of us got to swing on it before it went down.”

 

“Right. It was really fun. I can see why you’re hooked.”

 

“Right?”

 

Silence.

 

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Sugar.”

 

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Daring.”

 

 

 

 

When Caballero went down – he didn’t die, thanks to what little the cloud had managed to absorb before exploding, he just got a really ugly concussion – the magic from the pendant disappeared, so all the frozen ponies could move again.

 

This is how Celestia and Luna, who had taken all the nobleponies – frozen or not – to their private chambers for protection, knew that the fight was over. They hurried towards the hall with the castle medics, who knew more than enough about patching up a pony on the go.

 

“Just make sure you go to the hospital later,” Doctor Kind Heart told them once he was done. “You’ll need a week of rest at least, but I don’t see any permanent damage.”

 

“Sure, doc.” Daring lied with a wink. “I’ll take as much rest as necessary.”

 

That night Daring Do had almost died at least two times, and Song and her had defied all laws of physics more than usual. And yet, the most strange thing she saw was, doubtlessly, the way the nobleponies acted once the danger was over.

 

Mainly, they just continued the Hearth’s Warming Ball, as if nothing had happened.

 

“This is unbelievable,” Daring scoffed as the orchestra started another waltz and the dance floor got full again. Idle chat came back, poisonous glares – Daring and Song were still monopolizing the princesses – reappeared, and overall, save for all the broken stuff around, it was as if Caballeron had never appeared. “Come on, Song. Let’s get out of here.”

 

“Hm. Actually,” Song said, looking at Luna, “I had something I need to say before we disappear, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Oh?” Celestia looked at her sister, then at Song. “That’s interesting. Luna, do you need…?”

 

“Worry not, Sister.” Luna raised a hoof and smiled at Song. “I know what she means. Why don’t you go dance with Daring Do again? We’d like some privacy.”

 

“Wait, what?” Daring frowned. “I don’t think I want to dance. I mean, are you kidding me? I can barely stand!”

 

“This is a really slow waltz,” Song said, shrugging. “And you can talk a little more with Celestia while you’re at it. I’m sure you have questions to ask about the pendants or something.”

 

“I just…”

 

“I mean, don’t feel forced, of course.” Song gave her boss the sweetest of smiles. “If it scares you, then there’s no reason to—”

 

Thirty seconds later, Daring Do was leading Celestia to the dance floor again. The Princess shot them a confused look, but eventually went on with the flow.

 

Song and Luna, again next to the orchestra, watched them dance for a while. They still managed to mess it up.

 

“Daring Do is not the only one with pride,” Luna said after a while. “My sister will refuse to abandon the dance floor until they finish the song. She likes setting up an example.”

 

“Hmm.” Song coughed. “You know, my whole body hurts.”

 

Luna nodded. “I’m sorry.”

 

“The pendants were powerful, but you two are alicorns. You could have taken Caballeron alone in the blink of an eye.”

 

“Our first duty, as royalty, is to care for the safety of our citizens,” Luna said. Her voice was soft, and she was still smiling. “But yes, we could have taken Caballeron out.”

 

“But you didn’t. You left all the work to Yearling and me. And, uh…” Song scratched the back of her neck. “Thank you. And I’m really sorry.”

 

Luna blinked. “Sorry?”

 

“Yes. When we talked earlier, I assumed that you were… a little, uh, naïve.” Song was blushing; she couldn’t look at Luna straight in the eye. “And turns out, you—”

 

“I am naïve,” Luna said simply. “I turned to evil once.”

 

“Well, yes, but you’re only naïve in some things. You really understand ponies at their core, when it comes to… the important stuff, I guess.” Song frowned. “At least now.”

 

Luna nodded. “So you understand…?”

 

“Why you didn’t help? Yes.” Song shrugged. “You trusted us, that’s for starters. You also knew that Daring Do would really enjoy taking down Caballeron. This was…

 

“Well, I got so focused on celebrating Hearth’s Warming my way that I didn’t think on what Yearling wanted, I guess? She doesn’t enjoy resting. She likes fighting the bad guys, saving the world, all that stuff. Resting is against her nature – although she has to take better care of herself, I still stand for that.

 

“So you let us fight Caballeron on our own because, well, that was the best way to spend Hearth’s Warming for Yearling. She’s in a great mood now, and she was doing nothing but quipping jokes and puns while fighting Caballeron. You should have seen her.”

 

“I’ll probably read the book when it comes out,” Luna said.

 

“Oh, yes, you can do that.” Sugar sighed. “I guess Hearth’s Warming is about doing what you like with the ponies that you love, not about being fancy or having parties. You chose quite the dangerous way to teach that lesson, though, Princess.”

 

“I’m afraid it’s the Canterlot way,” Luna said. She covered her hoof to suppress a giggle. “You should see what my sister does to her personal student.”

 

“I guess. Still, thank you and sorry. But never do that again. We could have died.”

 

“We knew you wouldn’t. We really care about you, Sugar Song.” Luna’s ears perked up. “Oh. I think the song is ending.”

 

“Oh hey, we can’t let that pass, then.” They both walked towards the orchestra. “Let’s show those two how much we love them.”

 

“Absolutely,” Luna said, and then they gave the word to the musicians.

 

The change was as sudden as it was jarring. The whole orchestra stopped the waltz at once, and started a new song: a jazz suite. Fast, irregular, full of improv. Hard to play, and almost impossible to dance unless you were a really well-coordinated centipede.

 

On the dance floor, the nobleponies got startled for a second or two, but they quickly got the pace. They had a surprisingly good sense of rhythm, Song noticed.

 

And Celestia and Daring Do, who were standing on the center of the dance floor, glared daggers at them. But as much as their anger was great, their pride was greater. Celestia’s horn glimmered, and they started to “dance”. In four seconds, Daring Do was already smashing her face against the floor.

 

Sugar Song and Luna said nothing. They just got a couple glasses of champagne, made a toast, got comfortable, and enjoyed the show.

 

And what a show it was.

 

That jazz suite was over twelve minutes long.

 

 

 

 

Enough (for Vivid Syntax)

Soarin had bought the last pie, and Mr. Carrot Cake could not have been happier.

Hearth's Warming Eve had never been the easiest time of year for him, what with the business and Pound and Pumpkin, and just a few minutes ago, it had been shaping up to be the worst Hearth's Warming Eve for Sugarcube Corner. That wasn't to say that it did poorly around the holidays, oh no. Quite the opposite, in fact, but money had been tight this year, even with as much publicity as Ponyville got. The bureaucrats up in Canterlot had gotten it into their heads to try and impose new health programs, and as much as he believed in eating right, Mr. Cake was having absolutely none of it, not if he could help it.

But it was ultimately the customers' choice, and business had slowed down this year, too much. He was just grateful that the Wonderbolts were in town for the annual play, even if it was just to see their newest member display her brashness and brawn in front of an audience.

Well, more so than usual.

Mr. Cake trotted over to the door and flipped the sign over to "Sorry, We're Closed," exhaling a little. There was work to be done before the morning came, even if they were closed tomorrow. Mrs. Cake ran a tighter ship than what most ponies realized, and she was taking care of the foals tonight, so the cleaning and sweeping fell to her husband.

But he didn't mind, not really, as long as he got it done sooner rather than later. Cup had been eyeing a set of pearl earrings at the jeweler's for a while now, and Carrot had every intention of buying them for her. They were beautiful in the light, glistening and catching it no matter how they were twisted. He had actually thought they were diamonds on a cursory glance. They were perfect complements to a perfect mare, and Carrot knew she deserved them now more than ever. She needed to know just how much he loved her.

So, with a smile on his face, he began to clean faster than he ever had.

Soarin simply could not believe his luck. To think that he had bought the last of Sugarcube Corner's famed apple pies! Honesty and Laughter had come together to create the perfect treat, and he, Soarin, had managed to score one. Oh, he knew Spitfire would rag on him about his insatiable love for pies, but it was true; the only thing he loved more than pie was his family.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He loved coming to Ponyville for Hearth's Warming. The play put on by the schoolfoals was always adorable, and of course the princesses were in attendance too, what with the Elements of Harmony living here. And, of course, the air show the next morning. Soarin always looked forward to it, and had for the past seven years. He was doing what he did best with his closest friends, in front of a tight-knit and very important audience. In fact, he'd have to get some sleep if he wanted to be ready for the morning.

Yawning, Soarin wandered in the inn's direction, but didn't take off and fly. The night was beautiful, and in a place like Ponyville, all of the stars were out. He smirked to himself. That was one thing about Canterlot, or even Fillydelphia: everything was just so busy. The ponies, the sounds, the lights... It was so overwhelming, even for a superstar like himself. But out here in the country, it was peaceful.

Too peaceful, Soarin thought. A pony could find himself caught off-guard with his thoughts if he wasn't careful. Thoughts of life, thoughts of himself, and...

Thoughts of family.

He had to love his family. It was an unwritten rule of Cloudsdale, no, Equestria! Soarin simply couldn't fathom the idea of not loving his family. His mother, his sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, all of them. He had a big family, larger even than those of most earth ponies, which, while not unheard for pegasi, was certainly not the norm. Ignoring his family, putting them behind anything else, was completely alien to him.

And yet...

And yet it wasn't. He had joined the Wonderbolts, after all, hadn't he? Hadn't gone home for Hearth's Warming since he began touring. Abandoned the family business to perform all across Equestria with his idols, gave up wrangling lightning after his father—

The pie slipped out of his grasp and splattered on the road in front of Soarin. The pegasus didn't move a muscle, opting to stare at the remains of his dessert. Finally, he raised his head, cracked his neck, and took a deep, quavering breath. Forget the pie, forget Spitfire, forget the air show and Ponyville and the princesses.

Soarin crouched low, then took off towards Cloudsdale.

Mr. Cake let himself into his house, keys jingling as he placed them back in his coat pocket. He sighed before shutting the door quietly behind him. It wouldn't do to wake Pound and Pumpkin, after all, or his wife, for that matter. How he wished his wife wouldn't have to wake up in the morning to empty hooves! He knew jealousy was never a good thing, but if Carrot could just find the pony that had bought those pearl earrings, he would be much happier than he was currently.

"Everything all right, honey bun?"

Oh dear. He hadn't even noticed Cup sitting on the couch, illuminated by a set of modest flames in the fireplace. Mr. Cake faltered, then sighed again and hung up his coat. He trotted over to his wife and sat down beside her, removing his hat and cradling it in his hooves. Where to even begin?

"Sugar plum, I..."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't have a Hearth's Warming present for you. I mean..." Carrot shook his head and furrowed his brow. "I had one picked out, those pearl earrings you've been looking at for a while—"

A hoof met his lips, and Carrot looked up with wide eyes. Cup smiled back at him and giggled.

"Oh, Carrot, you know you don't need to get me anything. Just being here with me is enough."

Carrot's mouth twitched as he narrowed his eyes, but he eventually nestled into his wife's neck and breathed in her scent. Perhaps she was right.

Somewhere far from the cozy house, a young pegasus was enjoying a hearty supper with his family, even without the apple pie. Just his presence was enough.

And so the night passed unto the day, and all was well with the world.

Dinky’s First Hearth’s Warming (for FanOfMostEverything)

Derpy eagerly trotted down the snow-covered streets.  Despite the fact she’s been on her hooves since before sunup, she had a spring in her step. She had finished the most important day of her career as a mailmare—delivering every piece of Hearth's Warming mail—and tomorrow she'd have her first real celebration since leaving Las Pegasus.

Her empty mailbags bounced lightly against her barrel and brushed against the tips of her primaries; a slight annoyance, but not enough to dampen her spirits.

She stopped in front of a tidy house on the edge of Ponyville and knocked politely on the front door, then tapped a hoof impatiently on the welcome mat.  She was about to raise her hoof for another knock when the door was swept open by a heavyset mare.

“Come right inside, Miss Hooves. Star is in the living room with Dinky.”

Pausing only long enough to stomp the snow off her legs, Derpy stepped gratefully into the warmth of the house, pulling the door shut behind her with a wingtip. Instantly, her nose was filled with the pleasant smells of woodsmoke and gingerbread.

“Would you like a cup of cocoa? It wouldn't take any time at all to warm it up.”

“That's real generous, Mrs. Amethyst, but I should get home. I still haven't gotten all the decorations up.  It’s the busy time of year, you know.” As she spoke, she was already edging slightly towards the living room: she could hear Dinky's gleeful burbling, and the tiny bit of discomfort that set upon her heart whenever they were separated was set at ease.

“Of course. Do let me give you some gingerbread and a small fruitcake before you leave. I'll wrap it up right now.” Amethyst Intaglio walked into the kitchen to gather up the aforementioned treats. As soon as her tail had disappeared through the door, Derpy turned and looked in the living room.

Amethyst Star and Dinky were both seated on a large oval knotted rug in the center of the living room. A small stack of hand-me-down alphabet blocks were scattered across the maroon fabric on the far side of the duo; closer in was a small cloth bag containing a few diapers and a bottle.

“Mommy!”  Dinky dropped to all fours and took one step before she caught a hoof on the rug and tumbled, but she didn't let that dissuade her. In a moment, she was back on all four. Derpy crossed the distance between them and leaned down for a filly-sized hug.

“Time to go home, Muffin.” Derpy crouched in order to let Amethyst Star carefully lift Dinky into a mail pouch. Once the filly was secured, she put on Dinky's knit cap and wrapped a scarf around her neck, then stuck the cloth bag into Derpy's other mailbag.

“Thanks!” Derpy got back to her hooves, then leaned back down to give Amethyst Star a nuzzle on the cheek. “Have a happy Hearth's Warming!”

“You, too, Miss Hooves.” Amethyst reached around and touched a hoof to Dinky's nose. “It's your first one, isn't it?”

Derpy nodded; Dinky just make a happy gurgle.

“Say goodbye to Amethyst Star.”

Dinky lifted a forehoof and waved it.  “Bye Spar!”

“Bye, Dinks!”

•        •        •

Derpy's house was chilly and dark, but it didn't take her too long to get the fire going again. While she was waiting for the house to begin warming, she stretched out on the couch and let Dinky nurse under a blanket which kept them cosy.

The combination of warmth and a full belly knocked the DInky down for the count, letting Derpy carefully extract herself from the couch and finish getting ready for Hearth’s Warming.

She didn't have much in the way of holiday decorations, but she made the most of what she did, stringing evergreen garlands and bright paper daisy-chains around the living room. A quick check confirmed that Dinky was still sound asleep on the couch, so Derpy went to the kitchen and started carrying Dinky's presents out and arranging them on a small end table. Next year, she was going to get a nice bright cloth to cover it with.  Not only would it be more festive, but it would cover up all the scratches on the wood.

Her own presents went on the mantle.  There were only two, and they’d both arrived by mail.  It felt weird to be delivering her own mail; it was set aside at work and she took it home with herself at the end of the day. She wasn't sure if they counted as delivered when she put them in her mailbags, or if it wasn't until she finally took them out at home.

Finally, she brought the new Hearth's Warming dolls out. They were a little crude: she'd gotten them from a filly named Rarity who was bound and determined to be a seamstress one day. She would have liked to have her old one, but she hadn't thought to take it when she left home.

Satisfied that the house was decorated, she banked the fire and climbed back up on the couch, wrapping a wing protectively around Dinky.

•        •        •

Derpy was awake with the sun.  For a second, she was disoriented, then as soon as her eyes lit upon the dolls hanging from the mantle and the evergreen garlands, a giddiness overcame her. It was Hearth’s Warming day!  There were presents to be opened, and the little filly that still lived in her head wanted to charge right over to the mantle and tear into those two brown-wrapped presents.

She lifted her wing just enough to see that Dinky's eyes were still closed, tugged the blanket back up around her, and set her head back on the arm of the couch. She could wait a little longer to open her presents.

Deep down, she knew this was going to be the best Hearth's Warming ever. So what if she couldn't go home? She had the best gift anypony could ever ask for tucked safely under her wing, and she had all day to play with Dinky.

As if her name had been spoken aloud, Dinky shifted around and poked her head out of the blankets, blinking the sleep out of her golden eyes. Her gaze landed upon the small stack of presents with their bright wrappings, and she shrank back, pushing against Derpy's barrel.

“It's okay, Muffin. Those are Hearth's Warming gifts for you. Santa Hooves brought them. Do you know who Santa Hooves is?”

“Hoofs?”  Dinky looked at her curiously.

“He's a magical reindeer,” Derpy began, speaking softly. “Or maybe a caribou. Dazzle says they're the same thing. Every Hearth's Warming Eve, he flies all over Equestria, leaving presents for all the good little fillies and colts.

“He comes down the chimney, that's how he gets in. And then he leaves presents behind and quick as a flash, he's back up the chimney and gone again.” She giggled, realizing she was repeating Berry Pinch's explanation of Santa Hooves almost verbatim. “He's got holly and evergreen boughs and bright ribbons and little bells all braided around his antlers.”

She reached town and poked Dinky’s horn lightly.  “Antlers are like your horn, except that reindeer have two.”

“Hoofs.”

“He has hooves, too, but they’re not like ours.  He has two toes on each.”

“Bye, hoofs.”  Dinky ducked under Derpy’s wing.

“That’s so he can grip on roofs.  If he didn’t have them, he’d have to knock at the front door and deliver presents like a mailpony—like Mommy does.”

Dinky wiggled her nose back out from under her feathery nest. Derpy picked her up and set her on the floor, waiting for her curiosity to get the better of her.

With occasional retreats and glances back to make sure Mommy was close, Dinky finally made it over to the table and stuck her muzzle up over the edge, taking in the bright paper wrappings. She cautiously reached up a hoof and poked the box, jerking back as it crinkled under her touch.  Her horn reflexively lit, then flickered out again.

Derpy helped her, taking the package off the table and setting it on the floor in front of her. “Go ahead and open it up,” she suggested, tearing the wrapper slightly to help.

Dinky bit down on the edge of the paper and pulled her head back, tearing off a long strip. Eventually, with the assistance of her forehooves and a little bit of help from Derpy, she managed to get most of the paper off, revealing the box underneath.

Derpy opened the box to reveal a quartet of winter boots, which she arranged in front of Dinky.  “Those are from grandpa,” she said, as she reached for another box.

When she turned with a new package, she discovered that Dinky was gnawing on the top of one of them.  “Yuck.”

“They aren't for eating, muffin. Why don't you open this one?”

•        •        •

It took the whole morning for Dinky to finish unwrapping her presents. When she was finally done, she was surrounded by a new set of winter clothes, a plush unicorn, a red rubber ball, two picture books, and a set of alphabet blocks.

Her attention kept switching from one new toy to another: she stacked a few of the blocks then nosed through her winter clothes, coming up with a saddle blanket draped across her face, which Derpy finally had to help her out of.  Even the wrapping paper made a good toy for a while: once she’d gotten tired of batting it around, she arranged it into a pile and jumped on it, laughing gleefully at the crinkling noise it made.

All too soon, her motions begin to get erratic, and she started stumbling over her hooves.  She sat down on her rump and yawned, then got back up and staggered into the empty cardboard box her boots had been in, unicorn stuffy in tow.

As soon as quiet snoring began to come from the box, Derpy took out the shredded wrapping paper and returned with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. One of the greatest benefits of her job was that nearly everypony on her route had given her Hearth's Warming Gifts: mostly baked goods, but she'd also gotten a few jars of preserves, fresh produce, and even a bouquet of hothouse flowers from Daisy, Lily, and Rose.  They’d sat on the kitchen table for a week, then she’d eaten them.

Derpy got her presents down from the mantle and set them on the table in front of her. She tore into Dazzle's gift first, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw the title: Daring Do and the Lannowar Wastes.The title page was signed “To Ditzy, the best sister ever.”

She set it on the table and regarded it thoughtfully, then opened the package from her father.

Under the flaps on the box, a card with a woodcut of a snowpony sat on top of a crumpled mess of red tissue paper.  She opened the card and focused on the sloppy mouthwriting.  As she read, she could hear her father’s voice in her head.

Dearest Ditzy,

I guess I don’t have to tell you how special it is to celebrate Hearth’s Warming with your daughter.  I wish I could be there, but you’re going to have to settle for me arriving a week late.

I trust she’s already got the boots I sent.  If she’s anything like you were as a filly, she probably tried to eat one already.

—Papa

She set the card on top of the Daring Do book and pulled the top layer of tissue paper off her gift.  A flash of grey caught her eye, and her hopes soared as she pulled more of the wrapping away.  A minute later, she was holding her old Hearth’s Warming doll in her hooves, hugging it tightly to her.

•        •        •

Derpy sat on the couch and ate cookies, watching the flames dancing in the hearth until her focus went distant and she started to think of Hearth's Warmings past.

She was almost asleep when a gentle knock sounded at her front door. She snapped her head up, suddenly noticing that the fire had burned down very low. Now who could that be?

After a quick check to make sure Dinky was still secure in her cardboard box, Derpy opened the front door. Cherry Berry was standing there, a big grin on her face. “Hey, Ditz, Happy Hearth's Warming.”

“Only Papa still calls me that.”

“I’m in good company, then.”  Cherry leaned in and nuzzled Derpy’s cheek.  “Do you want to come over to my house for a Hearth’s Warming dinner?  Everypony’s there.”

“I’d rather spend the time with Dinky,” Derpy said honestly.

“Bring her with you!  She’ll have fun playing with Noi and Pinchy.”

Derpy considered that, then nodded.  Hearth’s Warming was about spending time with family and friends.  Everypony knew that.

It didn’t take much time to bundle Dinky up, and then the two of them set out to Cherry’s house.  Dinky kept her head outside the saddlebag, her eyes trying to track the snow as it fell.  She jerked back as a flake fell on her nose, then went cross-eyed watching it as it melted.

Before too long, they were at Cherry Berry’s house.  A pair of snowponies flanked the front walkway; one of them had a carrot stuck in its forehead.

“Pinch would’ve felt left out if we didn’t have a unicorn,” Cherry commented.  “Berry stole that from Goldie’s soup supplies.”

“Does she know?”

“Not yet.”  Cherry shrugged.  “Well, she probably knows it’s missing, but she doesn’t know where it went.”

“I like it.”  Derpy turned her head.  “Look, Dinky, it’s a snow-unicorn.”

“Hi snowcorn!”

“Next winter, we’ll make our own,” Derpy promised.  “And a snow pegasus, too.”

“We can do that later, if you want,” Cherry said as she wiped her hooves off on her mat.  “Might as well have all three tribes represented.”

“I haven’t built a snowpony in years.”

“Than you ought to get back in practice.”

“I heard that some of the northern pegasi fly down and build snowponies after the first snow.  Lightning Bolt told me.”

“They do.”  Cherry held the door open for Derpy.  “It’s kind of a game to see where they built them.  Usually, they’re in somepony’s fallow field, but one year they built a bunch on roofs downtown.  Noi and Pinch are in the living room; Berry’s watching them.  She’ll probably welcome your company.  I’ve got to get to the kitchen and help Goldie finish up dinner.”

Berry was sitting on the couch, watching over a temporary playpen that had been constructed out of empty crates.  Pinch was inside, constructing a block tower; as Derpy watched, Pinch moved back and Noi came over and pushed the tower until it fell over, then started giggling.

“They’ve been doing that for almost an hour,” Berry Punch said.  “I’m curious which of them will get tired of the game first.”

“I brought reinforcements for Noi.”  Derpy crouched down and let Dinky climb out of her saddlebag.  She cleared a path for the filly, who trotted into the play area and nuzzled Noi.

“That’s not fair, aunt Derpy.”

“You’re twice as old, so there ought to be twice as many of them,” Derpy said seriously.

“Oh.”  Pinch set up a couple of blocks, looked back up at Derpy, then her mother.  “Is that fair?”

Berry nodded.  “Better watch your tower.”

While Pinch’s attention had been drawn away, both Dinky and Noi had approached the stack of blocks.  Noi pushed it gently, rocking it.  Dinky put her own hoof on the tower and pushed as well; when it tumbled over, the two younger fillies burst into a fit of giggles, while Pinch sighed and began gathering the fallen blocks.

“I made you a bottle of wine.”  Berry pointed to a bottle on the table.  “I make a special batch every year, just for my friends and family.  You don’t have to open it; there’s one to pass around with dinner.”

•        •        •

The two of them talked on the couch until dinner was ready.  The younger two fillies finally tired of their tower-knocking-over game and left Pinch alone long enough for her to construct a wobbly edifice out of all the blocks, although Derpy had set on the final blocks, since it was too high for Pinch to reach.

It took a few minutes to move everypony to the dining room—by mutual consent, nopony wanted to leave the youngest fillies unsupervised.

The table was laden down with a bounty of food.  “It’s an earth pony tradition,” Cherry explained.  “Make more for dinner than anypony could possibly eat.”

“Try a little bit of wine,” Berry offered.  “You’ll like it; it’s honeysuckle.  Like summertime in a bottle.”

“It is,” Golden Harvest agreed.  “Berry, I think this is your best special batch yet.”

“Save your bottle for a miserable winter day,” Cherry advised.  “That’s when it’s best to drink it.”

“I’m gonna be thinking of this dinner when I drink it,” Derpy said.  “Where did you get the bread, Cherry?”

“It’s a secret family recipe.”

“My family, not yours,” Golden Harvest protested.  “You got it from Sugarcube Corner.  Carrot’s been making this for years.”

“Fine.”  Cherry rolled her eyes.  “But I made it.  I just had Carrot mix the flour.  I did all the rest.”

“I wish I knew how to make baked goods.”

Cherry and Golden Harvest exchanged a look.  “Tell you what,” Cherry said.  “If you really want to learn, me and Goldie can teach you.”

“I could too,” Berry offered.

“No, you can’t.”

“Remember when you tried to make a spinach casserole?”

“That only happened one time!”

“What about the chimney fire?”

“Not my fault.”  Berry crossed her forelegs.  “That could have happened to anypony.”

•        •        •

The party broke up after midnight.  All three fillies were curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. DInky had briefly woken when she was carefully loaded into Derpy’s saddlebags, but her head had drooped and she’d fallen back asleep before the pegasus made it out the front door.

She and Berry Punch had walked together into town.  Pinch made the first half of the journey on her own before she got tired; she finished the journey riding on Berry Punch’s back, her head nodding as she struggled to stay awake.

They got to Derpy's home first, and the two mares nuzzled each other before parting ways.  Derpy carried Dinky into the bedroom and tucked her in before stripping off her saddlebags.

She was exhausted, but in a good way.  She hadn’t ever felt so overwhelmed by happiness on Hearth’s Warming before.  And it wasn’t over yet, not really.  The decorations were still up, and would be for a while longer.  Papa was coming on the train to visit next weekend, and of course she still had all the treats she’d been given on her mail route—those would last for quite some time yet.

Her thoughts turned to the Hearth’s Warming Pageant.  All three tribes had come together and started anew.  She hadn’t really appreciated that when she was a filly, but now she did.  Perhaps she knew it better than some ponies; she’d had to trade the life she’d anticipated having for a new life on the ground.

It had been worth it.  She climbed into bed and snuggled against Dinky.  Tomorrow, she was going to sleep in again, and play with Dinky all day, undisturbed.  And the first thing they’d do was build a snow-pegasus in Cherry Berry’s front yard.

An Apple Homestead for the Holidays (for Pen Stroke)

“Zecora!” Apple Bloom cried out as she opened the door, the frigid winter air rushing into her home. “We weren’t expecting you! Come on in.”

Zecora smiled and stepped inside. She shook the snow off of her back, stomping her hooves on the welcome mat. “It is good to see you, little one. This winter storm is not much fun.”

Apple Bloom giggled, then reached into a corner and picked up a small bag with her teeth. “You came for these, right? Your potion ingredients and stuff. We were all figuring you’d just come later ‘cause of the storm, but Applejack told me to get them all ready anyway.”

“These ingredients, I need them very soon. I cannot wait another moon.” Zecora took the offered sack and slipped it into her saddlebags.

“Must be important stuff,” Apple Bloom muttered, rubbing her chin. “Y’know, just because I got my cutie mark in crusading doesn't mean I'm not still interested in all that alchemy stuff. We should get together again sometime and study!”

There was a brief pause, punctuated by the howling of the blizzard outside before Apple Bloom coughed and added, “When the weather clears up, of course.”

Zecora chuckled, then ruffled Apple Bloom’s mane with a hoof. ”Just because you have your cutie mark does not mean your education should end. Come visit soon, that we may mix, stir, and blend.”

“Hurray!” Apple Bloom cheered, jumping up and down.

“I hate to ask, but this storm is quite dire,” Zecora said, glancing back towards the door and shivering. “May I rest for a time, and warm myself by your fire?”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Forget just the fire, we can all have a Hearth’s Warming dinner together! Hey, Applejack! We need another place at the table!”

Zecora raised a hoof to protest, but Apple Bloom was already out of sight, running through the house yelling for her sister. She sighed, shaking her head, then hung up her bag and made her way through the Apple Family Homestead.

The warmth of the home—the family that lived here—was immediately evident. The generations that grew up here lived on in every board, creak, and shudder of the building as the storm raged on. Zecora stopped by the fire, feeling the chill ebb out of her flank. She glanced at the photos adorning the mantelpiece.

Many of the pictures were of scenes familiar to Zecora, but there were more than a few ponies in them she’d never had the pleasure of meeting. The story of the Apple family went back for hundreds of years. In some ways, she wished she could have known those that came before.

“That one there is my great grandpappy Apple Stout,” Applejack said walking up behind Zecora and pointing at one of the pictures. “They said he was as strong as any ten stallions, and could buck an entire field clear just by stomping the ground. It was actually a right mess of a problem, because he was plum terrible at gathering up all the apples afterwards.” With a grunt, Applejack turned and grabbed a steaming mug from a nearby tray. “Cider?”

Zecora grabbed the offered glass and took a careful sip, the hot liquid a welcome warmth that spread through her chest. “Days gone by, and tales quite old. They makes for good stories, when taking shelter from the cold.”

Applejack chuckled. “I hear that.” She raised her own mug in a brief salute, took a sip, then sat down next to Zecora. “So what about you? There any family you ever get a chance to spend Hearth’s Warming with?”

Zecora thought about it for a moment, then shook her head, smiling softly. “Hearth’s Warming traditions are unknown to my kind. We also lack your terrible winters; though that, I do not mind. But this spirit of togetherness that you ponies all share—I wish I could bring it to my home, that I swear. Right now the savannah is baked in the sun, where zebras run wild and frolick in fun. But when your harshest of winters force you inside, you stop and look back on your family with pride. This warmth and reflection is something zebras often lack. It is one of the many reasons I am so far off track.”

Applejack blinked, then frowned, rubbing her chin with a hoof as she parsed Zecora’s rhymes. Finally, she nodded, wrapping a hoof around Zecora’s shoulder and giving a light squeeze. “Shoot, every family’s got their own thing going on, and everypony shows how they love each other in a different way. Just know that you’re always welcome in our home, Zecora, whether it’s for the holidays, or just whenever.”

There was a loud crash from upstairs, a brief pause, then Apple Bloom shouting, “I’m okay!”

They both laughed. Applejack slapped Zecora on the back, then stood up. “She looks up to you a bunch, y’know. Treat her right.”

“Apple Bloom still has much to learn. But so do I, I think, in turn.”

“Figure that’s true enough for most of us.” Applejack paused in the doorway to the kitchen, then glanced back. “Dinner’s just about ready, so make yourself comfortable until then.”

Zecora nodded, then made her way back over to the fireplace, where she stared into those flickering embers. She could see herself dancing amongst the flames, a young zebra filly, eyes wide, full of wonder and naivety and endless curiosity for the wide wonders of the world. She’d journeyed to lands unknown, seen things, and met ponies in ways that most of her brethren had never done.

The circumstances under which she had left still stung, a wound in her heart that might never fully heal. She missed them, even now, and wondered what her family was doing at this moment. Were they thinking about her right now?

But all of that was in the past now. Zecora was in Equestria. And this land, where she was, right here and now.

This was home.

Mares in the Moon (for JumpingShinyFrogs)

In light of Twilight Sparkle’s revelations on her most recent nation-saving escapade, I have determined that the most crucial action I can take to ensure Equestria’s continued well-being at this juncture is to watch Starlight Glimmer sleep. To watch her dream, in perhaps less suggestive terms. Dreams often reveal our deepest, purest emotions and intents—oftentimes ones that we are uncomfortable facing even ourselves.

It is not that I do not trust Starlight Glimmer’s newly turned leaf. And it is especially not that I do not trust the judgments of Twilight Sparkle and her friends in deeming her reformed—I would and have trusted those ponies with my life. Nay, it is a more personal reason that I stand outside her dream door this midnight. Perhaps it can be most succintly stated as, “Better safe than sorry,” or even, “Don’t believe everyone has learned the same lessons as you.”

I’ll not dwell on it, though. I ease the dream door open and tread into Starlight Glimmer’s subconscious, as I have done to thousands of others before her.

I find myself overlooking a quaint village that I do not recognize. The hedges are manicured, the roofs run in jovial red slopes, and there are little buttresses topped with windblown pennants. Almost like a small slice of the old city Everfree, a thought that pangs my heart.

Yet for all that it seems a happy, wealthy little place, there are few ponies to be seen. Indeed, only one: the dreamer herself. Starlight Glimmer stands alone, frowning at a building that, upon inspection, appears much clearer than its surroundings—the rest of the villages has gone hazy in the fog of dreams.

She trots towards the building, and I must shift my perception to see what she sees. Starlight Glimmer stands at the threshold of this building, her hoof hovering before the door. Her mannerisms are awash with anxiety—perhaps even fear. Being in a state of permanent lucidity in this dream realm, I have learned to read such emotions. Dreamers are replete with them.

The door nudges open without her touch. In the room beyond, bookshelves line every wall around a central, oval table. Too small to be called a library, but too large to be a study. A book repository, perhaps. And an orange unicorn stallion stands by the table. I have never seen him before, but Starlight Glimmer clearly has, as she has gone utterly tense.

The stallion grins and beckons her inside. She matches his smile, and I can see her eyes misting even from this distance. I cannot help but smile—it is a happy one.

But my smile fades as quickly as it appeared. A cold, bitter wind has suddenly brewed around us. It is a sense with which I have grown all too familiar, but one which never fails to rend the feeling from my gut. It is the wind of a nightmare, and I must now watch it unfurl.

Starlight Glimmer takes a step towards the stallion—only, she doesn’t. She attempts to, but the repository itself recoils, and the world around it dims. Her eyes are stark with hurt, and I can only watch as she tries another step, and the building lurches farther from her reach. She takes another step—a quicker one—but to no avail. A cold, black void has eclipsed the surrounding village, galing with the nightmarish storm. It has left only Starlight Glimmer, the repository with the stallion, and myself, hidden in the dream’s fold.

She breaks into a full gallop, and my heart aches as the building zooms away at the same breakneck pace. The stallion is still beckoning her with a great smile, but it seems far mor sinister now. No longer the memorable visage of a good friend’s greeting, but now a warped smirk that serves only to taunt. Tears stream from Starlight Glimmer’s eyes. She attempts to cry something out, but nothing leaves her throat.

Faster and faster she runs, so farther and farther she gets from her goal. The building is all but a speck in the blackness—a lone star that refuses to die but does not want to be seen in kind. Time is warped by the dream, as it so often is. She has been running for mere seconds, but it surely feels like hours to her.

When she collapses in a sad, exhausted heap, I know I have seen all I will need to see. “That is quite enough,” I bellow. Starlight Glimmer startles to her hooves.

I muster the bizarre, ethereal light of the moon and banish the nightmare void. When the world returns, we are back in Starlight Glimmer’s little town, only I have replaced the orange stallion in the building. She stares at me like a filly gazing upon a manticore and immediately scrambles into a bow.

“You may stand, Starlight Glimmer,” I say. I take several steps forward—close enough to see her trembling hooves. “You have nothing to fear. I have not come to punish you.”

Weakly, she stands. She looks at me with those same, filly-ish eyes, and she attempts to speak. She still cannot. Magic gathers in my horn and hums all around, replacing the chill of nightmares with a warmth not unlike a mild summer’s day. She suddenly coughs, then says, “P-Princess Luna. It’s an honour.”

I nod. “Likewise, ‘tis a pleasure. Although I must confess I wish we had met under happier circumstances.” I glance around the repository, taking in all the complementary shades and detailed furnishings. “Such a lovely place for a nightmare so foul.”

“Nightmare?” Starlight Glimmer looks around as though she’s seeing the world for the very first time. I will never tire of seeing that awe in ponies.”Huh,” she says. “I guess that explains a few things. Never thought I would be back in this place.” Her attention suddenly snaps back to me. “Wait. If you’re not here to punish me, then why are you here?”

I shrug. Certainly I could elucidate my designs right away, but aloofness is very much more to my liking. “Intuition, mostly.” I trot past her to the door. “Come, let us walk.” She falls into step without a word—she seems to almost shrink in and brace herself, as though expecting some imminent verbal lashing.

Once outside, we are no longer in the same village. Instead, we are in a much plainer place full of muted colours and two rows of identical houses. “Pray tell,” I ask, “what is this place?”

She looks up, and a ghost of a smile dances across her face. “A happy place.”

I nod—it is not an important question to pursue. “I see. And is there a particular reason you would need a happy place at this moment?”

Just as it had come, the smile vanishes. “I… Well, I mean, I suppose you already saw for yourself.” Her ears fold down. “I would rather not talk about it, if that’s okay.”

“Actually,” I say, “that is decidedly not okay. It is a topic worth broaching. That is my entire reason for coming.”

Starlight Glimmer stops. “I don’t quite understand, Your Highness.”

I stop too. Without facing her, I say, “I would not expect you too. It did not make sense to me at the time either.” I pause for my words to sink in, but I cut her off before she can respond. “That young stallion from earlier. A friend of yours, I presume?”

The hesitation speaks more volumes than any words could. “An old one,” she says, though her voice is hollow. “I haven’t seen him in a long time.” The statement sits like an iceberg: hiding much more than it reveals.

“And do you still hold some level of fondness for him?”

“Yes, yes of course. Sunburst was my first friend. I could never forget him.”

I turn. Starlight Glimmer is no longer looking at me. She is looking at herself—at her cutie mark—with her face twisted in some measure of guilt. “If that is true,” I ask, shifting my tone to a colder one, “then why would his presence in this dream cause you so much duress?”

“I…” She pauses for a long moment, like she’s never considered the question herself. Her answer, eventually, is a sigh. “I don’t know, Princess.”

“But I think you do know, Starlight Glimmer.” I step forth so that I am looming over her, and she is forced to look up at me. “Do you not?”

Her eyes tremble, and the dreamscape begins to thrum and ripple around us. I have struck some nerve. “I…”

“There is not much time left in this realm, so I’ll make this brief.” I crouch down in a most unprincessly way, putting me eye-level with Starlight Glimmer. “I do not know you, Starlight Glimmer, and you certainly do not know me. I cannot claim to fully understand your situation from what little I’ve seen here. But know that I speak from a place of mutual understanding when I say this: whatever it may be, you cannot harbor this emotion. No matter how content you may feel with your new life in the waking world, it will not stop this from festering.”

She blinks, and I feel myself being forced from her subconscious. “What do you mean?”

“You know perfectly well what I speak of.” Magic flows from my horn—just enough to hold this dream together for a few seconds longer. “Be honest with yourself, Starlight. And, in time, share it with those close to you. It can be conquered. Do not repeat my mistake that cost me so many years. You do not have the time to lose.”

In her eyes, I believe I see something click amid all the confusion. She says something, but her mind is overpowering the dream now, and I am ripped away before I can hear it.

***

I gasp awake, back in my own bedroom. Rubbing my eyes, I can almost certainly sense a headache coming on. I had so desperately hoped my hunch about Starlight Glimmer would be wrong. But in the end, I suppose I am glad to have had the hunch at all. Someone must help her rid her skeletons—perhaps I was at least a catalyst.

Glancing out my window, I see the moon balanced on the western skyline, patiently awating my command. Many ponies still think it looks odd without the Mare in the Moon emblazoned across its face. I, for one, think it looks much more beautiful. Like someone has cleansed it.

I choose not to dwell any longer. I hop out of bed and head to breakfast with my sister.

Virtual Thread and Music (for Moderation)

I. Calm and Cocoa

Coco Pommel's heart sank. She already knew what they were about to say.

“Our apologies, Mz Pommel, but your designs do not correspond to our vision,” Foam de Mer said. Chief designer and CEO of Mare de Mer — Manehatten's second largest clothing manufacturer and distributer — his words were enough to elevate a designer to fame or sentence her to obscurity. “You have clearly put in a lot of effort into them.” He examined the sleeve of one of the samples Coco had brought. “Unfortunately, your design doesn't follow any current or near future conventions. Theatre seems to have influenced you a bit too much.”

“But... isn't that a good thing?” Coco asked meekly.

“No, absolutely not.” Foam de Mer moved away from the piece of clothing. “At Mare de Mer we specialize in clothes ponies could wear — from the extremely rich to the everyday citizen of Equestria. What you are offering is something that nopony outside a fashion show would wear.”

The ponies behind de Mer nodded in unison.

“If you were a famous designer, or even a rising star in the fashion world, things would have been different, but as they stand now...” The stallion sighed.

This is it then. Coco looked down. Another failed attempt... and after Rarity had gone through all the trouble to arrange for this meeting too. At least Foam de Mer had taken the time to explain the reason for his refusal. The last three fashion houses hadn't done even that. It didn't help that Suri Polomare had given her “thoughts” regarding Coco to everypony in th fashion world she couldreach.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. de Mer.” Defeated, Coco gathered her samples. “Please, have a nice day.”

“Skill is not enough to lead you to success anymore, Mz Pommel,” Foam de Mer added as she left the interview room. “Maybe you should try other venues. Canterlot fashion, perhaps.”

Other venues… a polite way of saying “quit the fashion industry”. Foam de Mer hadn't been the first to suggest it. In fact, nearly everypony with the exception of Rarity had done just that.

Maybe they are right? Coco thought as she exited the building. Maybe I should stick to making stage costumes. There is a certain charm to that… and still... A good rest was what she needed. As they said in her favourite play 'after all… tomorrow is another day'. Right now she could use a nice hot mug of cocoa.

“Watch it, lady!” Somepony bumped into Coco, before continuing forward without even turning around. To be expected at rush hour. Coco didn't like it, but had gotten used to it. Sighing again, she rubbed her shoulder. Yes, cocoa really seemed appealing right about now.

* * *

“Countess, please!” Quick Trick begged. “This is an entirely new field we are developing. Lending your voice would really really be of great help! Think of your image! Think of the thousands… the hundreds of thousands of foals that will hear you sing! You will become a sensation!”

Rara did her utmost not to sigh. Had this been her career until now? Now having to deal with the business side of things had sheltered her from this aspect of her life, possibly too much. Ever since she had parted ways with Svengallop, a host of agents had been hounding her, constantly bombarding her with offers… horrible offers. The money was good, that she had to admit, but the work itself — commercials, openings, VIP events… that was not the sort of life she wanted anymore.

“Excuse me, but how exactly would that be?” Rara arched a brow. Using foals to get her to agree to a contract was something she found utterly repulsive. “You want me to perform for the music for your title screen, was it?”

“And intro!” The stallion was quick to add, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “And credits page, and possibly—”

“What I find concerning, is that you think that foals would play a gambling game.” She gave him a stern look. “That's what your product is, isn't it, Mr Trick?”

“Yes, but only to the untrained eye, Countess.” The stallion fidgeted uncomfortably. “You see, this is classified as a game of skill, and as such it could be played by ponies of all ages—” He paused catching Rara's warning look. “Although, we by no means condone that.”

“So, in other words, your product has nothing to do with foals.” Coloratura stood up. She had had enough of this conversation.

There was no way she would agree to anything of the sort. If Quick Trick had been honest about the whole thing, she wouldn't even have come. The only reason she did was on the off-chance that it indeed involved children. How many times is it that I fall for that lie? she grumbled to herself. Far too often. However, as long as there was even the slightest chance, she would keep going.

Quick Trick, continued begging her to reconsider, as she left the room. It was obviously an act. Rara knew perfectly well that ten minutes later he would do the same performance to some other star singer on his list. Sadly, for most Manehatten businesses, profit was the bottom line. Quality and intentions had little to do with anything.

I really could use a break from all this, she thought. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to spend some time in Ponyville? Maybe there she could find some inspiration to come up with a new album — something sweet and innocent for a change?

“Oh. My. Stars!” A scream nearly deafened Rara. "Countess Coloratura! I'm your biggest fan!" A mare rushed towards her. "I have all your albums! Some even twice!"

"I'm certainly glad you enjoy my work so much." Rara smiled politely. She did very much enjoy meeting with her fans, but really hoped they would move past her 'Countess' stage.

"Could you please please please give me some hoofsies?" The mare clapped her hooves in excitement. She was barely older than a filly. Do I have to disappoint her as well?

"I'm sorry, but I don't do that anymore." The mare's ears flopped. "But I can sign an—"

"Ohmygoshohmygosh!" The mare began hopping in place. "A signature from the Countess! I cannot believe it!" Before Rara could put in a word, her fan had already taken out a print of her and was eagerly awaiting the promised autograph. "Make it to Lucky, please."

To Lucky, Rara wrote. May the music always remind you who you are. —Rara

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" The pony hugged the print as if it had suddenly come to life. "Thus means so much to me! I never ever imagined I would get to meet you in person!"

"Well, you are Lucky," Rara said, as she started walking away.

"Can I ask just one thing?" The fan tagged along.

"Of course." Please don't ask it. Just please don't—"

"Why did you stop being the Countess? Your show and effects were amazing!"

I really need a break...

* * *

The cinnamon and nutmeg cocoa was seemed. Normally Coco would find it enjoyable, but today even it wasn't able to cheer her up. I'm probably overthinking this,[/] she thought as she took another sip. This is not the end of the world. I just have to work harder on making my designs more… common. And there lied the problem. Coco no longer wanted her designs to be common. She didn't want to become another Suri — copying others to move ahead. Sadly, all the fashion designers she had visited, had been right — in order to make something she had to be somepony, and for the moment she wasn't.

“Excuse me,” a voice brought Coco back to reality, “is this seat taken?”

Coco stopped staring into her cup and looked up. A grey mare was standing nearby, pointing at the seat across. Coco blinked. She hadn't noticed when the coffee shop had become full. As it stood the only free seat was at her table… and it was mostly occupied by her fashion designs.

“Oh, I am so very sorry.” She quickly stood up. “I'll move my bags right away.”

“Please, it's no bother.” The mare smiled and gently pushed them to the side, so there was space for her and the bags on the seat. “Shopping spree?” she asked, sitting down.

“Well, not exactly,” Coco suppressed a sigh. I wish I had time to shop for more than food and fabrics. “I made them.”

“You did?” The grey mare seemed impressed. “May I have a look?”

“Err… sure.” She is just being polite. Coco shuffled uneasily. She always felt uncomfortable showing her work to others, especially when it came to original designs. As the other mate took out her cyan 'Scarf Dress', Coco felt like biting her lip. That design was the least well received. On a few occasions it had been described as 'a brave attempt at something unexpected'. Translated that meant 'a complete disaster'.

The seconds stretched as Coco tried to concentrate on her drink and not to preoccupy herself with what the mare might think. She kept telling herself that it didn't matter whether she liked it or not, that If that particular piece seemed too experimental for a fashion designer, there was no way that an ordinary Manehattanite would appreciate it.

“And you made this on your own?” the mare asked. “You know, in a way this reminds me of myself.” Coco almost choked. This was not a response she was expecting. “It represents the very heart of things. No 'fancy bells and whistles', as a friend of mine would say, just pure emotion wrapped in thread.”

Remarkable! Somepony who could actually see what my work stands for! it was exactly what Coco had aimed for while making this — the sense of freedom and mischief, so absent in the big city.

“That's very kind of you to say, Mz—” She froze. Looking at the other mare, Coco had just realized who that was. No! It can't be! I have been sharing a table with her all this time and never noticed? “Err you are….” she began, pointing a hoof forward. This wasn't the first time Coco had been in the presence of stars, but having a casual conversation with one in a coffee shop was unusual, especially in Manehatten. “I really enjoyed your latest single. It was heartwarming.”

“Why, thank you.” Rara folded the dress and put it back in Coco's bag. “Sadly the entertainment industry doesn't share your view. All they seem to want is the Countess, and the special effects that came with my performance.”

“I understand what you mean,” Coco sighed. “The fashion world also has their own opinion of how things should be. Guess I'll stick to making stage costumes. Not that it's bad,” she quickly added defensively. “I am very grateful for the opportunity, and I love what I do very much. But sometimes...”

“Sometimes you just want to be yourself,” Rara added helpfully. “You talk through your work, and at times it gets a bit difficult singing other's songs.”

“It does. Sometimes I still wish I could have something completely mine that ponies like,” she took another sip of her cocoa.

"Something completely yours," Rara mused. For a while neither of the two said a thing. Coco continued to sip her drink, deep in thought, while Rara ordered a cup of herbal tea. It was as if life would continue its usual routine — both would get back to their usual problems of their busy lives. That was the Manehattan way of things. Only this time, something changed.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name," Rara said, all of a sudden.

"Oh, it's Coco, Coco Pommel."

"Tell me, Coco," Rara smiled conspiratorially, "care to venture into something different?"


II. Song and Fashion

Song Scarf was going to be amazing. Rara was sure of it. The moment the idea had first come to mind she could see the potential; something more — she could see the good it would do to fillies and colts across Equestria. Looking at it now, even in its concept stage, it seemed like a true wonder. Thinking about it, it was a wonder they managed to make it this far. When Rara had suggested it to Coco Pommel, everything was little more than an fancy, hatched at the spur of the moment.

I really don't know what I was thinking. She smiled, looking at the set of paintings on the wall. 'Character boards' — that's what they were calling them. Rara had to admit that even after these last few months she still hadn't gotten used to the terminology. It was definitely worth it, though!

"You can take them home, you know." A purple stallion approached. "You paid for them, like everything else here, As a matter of fact.

"Good morning, Purple Motion." Rara suppressed a chuckle. If I dare to borrow them even for an evening, you and Sourpuss won't let me hear the end of it. You'll never admit, but you like her as much as anypony here. "And how is our filly doing today?"

"Bah!" Purple Motion waved a hoof, as if they were discussing latest gossip scandal. Rara knew what his personality was like way before she hired him. In fact he was working on the very first arcade games she had lent her voice to — the phenomenally popular Dragonfire Space arcade game. Purple Motion was the lead artist of the project, and thoroughly impressed bu her performance, not that he would ever describe it with so many words.

"Sourpuss is an idiot!" The stallion said flatly, not before looking around to make sure the colleague in question was out of earshot. “He still can't get the animations to work properly. I keep telling him that he must optimize his code, but he keeps going on about the new arcades having twice the memory of—"

"So we'll make it for Hearth's Warming?" Rara cut him off politely.

"Have you dropped your oats, boss-lady?" Purple nearly shouted, then dramatically slid a hoof over his face. "Absolutely impossible! No way in Equestria! We'll have to keep on crunching non-stop till then to make the release! Not to mention the competition will be fierce. Everypony and her grandma are aiming at a Hearth's Warming release!"

"I'm so glad I could count on you." Rara smiled, turning back towards the paintings. One thing she had gotten used to, once she had set up her new game studio, was that both of her employees had a tendency to complain a lot — a skill only matched by the speed at which they achieved everything they previously claimed to be impossible. She also knew Purple Motion's weakness.

"I'm sure Coco would be overjoyed to hear it as well, once she arrives," Rara added casually.

Purple Motion froze. All the outrage and complaints that usually filled the room were nowhere t be heard.

"Miss Pommel is coming?" he managed to ask, the look of horror on his face. "Today?"

"In about an hour, actually." Maybe I am being a bit mean, but it's not like you don't deserve it, Purple. "She got some free time from work, so we decided it would be better we work on the story a bit. Also she's been quite anxious to try the game for her—"

Before Rara could finish, Purple was already galloping down the corridor shouting "Sourpuss, you idiot!" At the top of his lungs. There was no doubt he'll do everything necessary for a demo version of the game to be ready by noon. Left alone, Rara chuckled. So transparent.

"You are finally coming to life, little one," the pop star said, looking at the paintings. The cyan filly wrapped in an elegant cherry red scarf-dress seemed to smile back. She was Rara's creation, hers and Coco's from when they had met by accident all those months ago — the playful creature that would help children all across Equestria get to know and play with each other using song and fashion.

* * *

I am so late! Coco sighed. It was rare for her to feel panic. Feeling doomed, on the other hoof — she was more than familiar with.

Miss Coloratura will be so upset. And barely managed to add the latest touches to the new Song Scarf costumes! She quickly grabbed her latest designs and rushed out of her apartment. Green and blue sets are done, i have sketches for purple and orange. That only leaves yellow.

As she rushed to catch a cab, Coco went through the list of tasks in her head. Rara had told her that Song Scarf could start simply as red and have more designs appear later, but that wouldn't do. There had to be variety, contrast, choice...

"Where to lady?" A cab pony stopped in front of her.

"Forty-one Song Avenue, Whether Hights, please." Coco put her rack of clothes in. "And please hurry, but go carefully."

"Err, sure thing, lady." The stallion looked at her confused. "Need a hoof with that?" He asked, well after Coco had finished doing the heavy work.

"No, no need, thank you."

The 'thank you' confused the cab pony even further. Not sure how to react, he muttered an uneasy response, then proceeded forward. Coco, however, was too deep in thought to even notice. This as the first time in over a week she would visit Coloratura's game studio... their game studio. The designer still had trouble getting used to the idea. When Coloratura had made the suggestion, months ago, it had seemed too unbelievable to comprehend — the entire concept of making clothes for arcade games was outlandish, to say the least. Coco had never heard anypony do that. And yet, as Coloratura had pointed out, where there is innovation, there is opportunity.

"So, err, you me of 'em fashion designers?" The cab pony asked all of a sudden. "My niece wants to become one. Always drawing and cutting out magazines and stuff." He glanced at Coco briefly, before returning his attention to the road. "Quite good, I'd say, not that I understand much of that. Think she has a hope?"

"Why, certainly." Coco nodded out of habit. "I was a filly myself, when I first started showing interest."

"Thing is, she doesn't have her cutie-Mark yet, see?" The cab pony picked up the pace. "So I was thinking what's the proper thing to do."

"Does she like it?" I'm not sure what to tell you. Nopony can live her life for her.

"Heck if I know." The stallion shrugged. "Seems like it. Guess I'll let the squirt decide on her own."

Coco didn't add anything. Thankfully, by that time they had already arrived at the address. This time the cab pony actually helped her unload the clothes. A nice gesture that earned him a tip.

Now, then, let me see what Song Scarf is—

"Miss Pommel!" A yell made Coco jump, startled. She had forgotten this part. Nearly all of her visits were accompanied by the... overeager greeting of Purple Motion. She had tried time and time again to tell him not to treat her as his boss, and still he continued to get all nervous upon seeing her. In turn that made her feel uncomfortable.

"Miss Pommel!" Purple rushed to her. "A pleasure to see you, as always." He offered a nervous smile, then before Coco could even react grabbed the costumes she had brought. "Let me help you with that. I hope your ride here was fine. If I had known in advance that you would be coming, I would have personally accompanied you."

"That's fine, Purple." Coco trotted along, trying to match his pace. "I thought I had told Miss Coloratura that I would be arriving—"

"You know how stars are." Purple waved a hoof. "Always forgetful, head in the clouds like a weather pegasus. Why if I hadn't asked, she wouldn't even have mentioned you were coming to see Song Scarf in action!"

"Oh, I wouldn't have, would I?" Rara met them in the office lobby. She was waiting in front of the character boards of Song Scarf. Expectedly, Purple waved a hoof irritably, before moving on towards the work room. Coco stayed behind.

I can't even imagine how you find the energy to spend so much time here. I barely manage to finish my designs on time.

"It has been quite a while, Coco." Rara gave her a hearty hug. "And you have definitely been keeping yourself busy. Bridleway can't get enough of your work it seems."

"Well, there always are last minute costume changes." And at times ponies could be very demanding.. "You managed to create several hit singles in that time, Miss Coloratura."

"Please, it's Rara. And it's all for our baby," she turned towards the character boards on the wall. "We've both put in a lot for her. In a few months we'll hopefully show her to Equestria."

in a few months. Sounds almost incredible, Coco thought, as she looked at the pictures of the filly. They had put in a lot of time and money, indeed. Well, mostly Coloratura had put in the money — she had rented the office space, bought the equipment, hired the employees. Coco had only shared some of her fabrics.

"Do you think we will be ready by Hearth's Warming?" Coco asked.

"Well Purple continues to grumble that it's impossible, and Sourpuss has stopped talking altogether..." Rara looked up at the ceiling, causing Coco to bite her lip. "It'll be fine." She laughed. "Sound Scarf is already animated. Now we only need to get her to respond as she should and finish the game story. After that it's just a matter of placing our arcade machines throughout Equestria."

That was a relief. Coco felt her pulse relax. Please don't joke with me like that.

"But, do you think it will be any fun?" The designer asked. "Song Scarf looks beautiful, and I am sure with your voice, and Purple's and Sourpuss' skills, she will come to life... but will that be enough? How can we be sure until the colts and fillies actually play it?"

"Coco, you are very right. We can't be sure. That is why I have something In mind. I have been writing to a dear friend about our endeavor, and she has agreed to give us a hoof. Four sets of hooves, to be exact. But before that, maybe you want to see her with your own eyes?"

I most definitely do! Coco nodded eagerly. The culmination of their work, their pinnacle achievement in this endeavor — how could she not want to see it? Following, Rara into the work room. The place was a complete creative mess, for lack of a better definition. The entire space was made small by countless devices scattered about, along with piles of pictures, massive art boards, as well as over three dozen of Coco's clothing designs. There was barely enough space to hold the  Purple Motion and Sourpuss — the two employees of the company.

"Right on time as usual, Miss Pommel!" Purple shouted, causing Sourpuss to roll his eyes. "We just about to let her run. That is if somepony has managed to debug the code properly!" A groan from Sourpuss followed.

I really don't think those two get along, Coco thought as she approached. For several seconds she stood beside them, staring at the screen of a partially assembled arcade machine. Numbers and letters kept appearing and disappearing, the two stallions kept on arguing. Similar to what had happened three months ago, Coco felt her heart sink. Doubt started to fill her mind once more. What if everypony had been right? What if she was fated to remain a costume maker and never create a line of her own? What if—

"There she is!" Purple shouted victoriously.

Coco blinked. It was true! Rendered on the arcade screen, Song Scarf appeared. For a moment it seemed, as if the whole world vanished, leaving her with the virtual filly. So much like what I imagined, yet so different

Song Scarf was made to be small, blue coated and silver maned, wearing a loose fitting scarves that wrapped around her several times creating the illusion of a dress. Coco admired how the fabric flowed freely, as if dancing, even when still. Purple and Sourpuss had put in a lot of effort and they had done the impossible — created a true masterpiece.

"She can't dance or sing yet," Sourpuss said grumpily. "But we know the fabric works, so we can fit your designs to match, Miss Pommel."

"Can't sing?" Rara arched a brow. "I thought you had all my songs in digital for."

"We do, boss, but playing doesn't mean singing. I can start them now, but her lips won't move, nor would would the scarf react. We still need some time to fix that. Maybe a month, possibly two."

A month, possibly two, Coco thought, still mesmerized by the virtual pony before her. It was still going to take a lot of effort, but at least we have made our first step. Very soon, our Song Scarf will dance for all Equestria to see.


III. Virtual Thread and Music

"You weren't kidding when you said this was the hay," Business Savvy glanced at the arcade prototype. His daughter had already spent half an hour there and didn't have any intention to stop anytime soon. That was an achievement in itself. Combined with the fact that there was a clothing line and song album associated to the franchise, there was no question this would be a good investment.

"I still can't imagine why none of the established brands thought of anything similar," the stallion laughed.

"Well, we did approach them, but apparently there was no interest in song and fashion games," Rara said with a reserved smile. No mention how Coco and she had been ridiculed when they had started, or the smear campaign attempts that had been made during the game's closed beta testing.

Rara had been described as a diva attempting to enter an industry she knew nothing about, while Coco Pommel had been depicted as a designer wannabe of questionable talent, who had resorted to anything to gain fame. Thankfully the attempts hadn't been successful, although Coco had taken it quite hard at one point.

"Their loss entirely," Business Savvy laughed again, looking at his watch. "So, to keep matters short and professional — you want me to distribute this Song Scarf arcade, and make sure that it reaches as many parts of Equestria as possible, before Hearth's Warming eve? Not a bad investment. You'd probably want a two way split between myself and your company. Your merchandise will be your own, naturally. I'll only provide transport and collect the bits earned at locations regularly. Regarding the matter of maintenance—"

"My apologies, Mr. Savvy, but that is not why we called you here," Rara interrupted him. "The arcades are to be free, and as such we don't expect any profit whatsoever. We are simply asking you to deliver them to the locations in question. That is all."

The business pony looked at Rara, as if she had lost her mind. I can see the gears in your mind turn, she thought. You still cannot see what this is all about. Any moment now you are going to ask the question, aren't you?

"Are you crazy?!" The stallion almost shouted. "Don't you think I haven't done my research! You can't expect me to believe that you — the most famous pop star in Equestria — and Mz Coco Pommel — a celebrated Bridleway designer — have spent all this time and resources merely to make children happy?"

"Is that so difficult to believe? If you had done your homework properly, you probably are aware of our other activities?"

"Charity events, theatre revival, and so on." Business waved a hoof, utterly uninterested.

"We shall, of course, pay you for your—"

"That is not the point! You are throwing a golden opportunity here! I've seen what you offer. Your closest competitor is miles behind, even without taking your star factor into consideration! There's absolutely nothing from stopping you from making a tidy profit!"

"Possibly," Rara held her ground. "Yet Coco and I would prefer if it were the children who would profit. Children, like your daughter, for example."

Upon hearing that, Business Savvy frowned. Clearly he didn't like being disagreed with. His mouth opened, as if to say something, then closed shut again.

"Will you consider our request?" Rara repeated the question

Shaking his head, the stallion glanced at his daughter. She was still playing. With a grunt and a sigh, he went to her, literally scooped her from the arcade machine, and left the office without a single word.

There goes another one, Rara sighed in turn. For some reason everypony she had contacted, had reacted in the same manner — compliments, bargaining, shock, departure. Did everything have to be about profit?

"Rara?" Coco Pommel appeared from the lobby. "I saw that Mr. Savvy and his daughter left. Did he...?"

"Same as all the rest, sadly." Rara said, utterly exhausted. "And I was so sure he would agree once he saw how much his filly liked Song Scarf." She moved to the nearest seat and sat down. "You know, I am starting to wonder whether it wasn't a mistake to start this. Ponies have been saying it all along. Maybe they were right."

"Don't say that!" Coco rushed to her. "Not after you have put so much effort in. You managed the impossible! Thanks to you Song Scarf exists!"

Oh, dear Coco. How our roles have changed. Up to a few weeks ago, you were the one needing encouragement, while I would push things forward. Well, I am sorry, but even I am tired. What use is it having created Song Scarf, if no one would ever see her? What good is it to have a virtual pony help children enjoy singing, if they never get to play with her? What good is all that effort, if we have nothing to show for it?

"Purple Motion asked me out today," Coco said after a long pause. The change of subject managed to grab Rara's attention. "I... I agreed, but told him tomorrow might be a better time."

"What? Why?" Rara did he best not to gasp. This had been a long time coming. Naturally, Purple's timing was horrible, as always, but he did pull through in the end.

"Because I'd rather we went somewhere, instead." Without warning, Coco grabbed Rara's hoof and before the singer could protest, dragged her outside the studio.

What has gotten into you, Coco?! Rara wondered, as they trotted through the streets. Manehatten was bustling with ponies, most rushing for last minute gifts for Hearth's Warming. For a moment it seemed that Coco might want to do the same. When she and Rara suddenly entered a coffee shop, though, things got even more confusing.

"Coco, what are you going?" Rara finally pulled her forehoof away. "We didn't have to gallop here. Actually where is here?" The place was almost empty. To be expected — few had time for coffee this week in particular.

"There!" Coco pointed at one of the tables. "This is where Song Scarf was born. Do you remember?"

"How could I forget." Rara smiled. I had just walked out of a talk with a weasel of an agent, and had later been stopped by a fan of the Countess, who wanted an autograph. I thought I could use a break, so I went in here. "The seat at your table was the only one empty."

"Only because I my design samples were on the seat." Coco smiled. "I was so depressed after being turned down by Mare de Mer, that I didn't even notice."

"That is when I saw your scarf dress," Rara continued. "And got the idea of Song Scarf."

"A mare dressed in a dress of songs that helps colts and fillies sing by transforming her dress into sounds as they sing along with her," Coco chuckled. "It sounded crazy."

"It was crazy." Rara shoved her gently. "We were crazy to try it. Any sane mare would have finished her drink and left."

"And yet we still managed, Rara. True, we might not bring it to the children at Hearth's Warming, but we will bring it." A slight pause followed. "Besides, Purple is always telling us that this was more suitable for Hearts and Hooves Day."

That's all there was too it. It might have not been all that they wanted, but it certainly was going to achieve the same result. Only difference was that it would be delayed somewhat. All and all not a bad thing. This way there could be more songs, more types of virtual fabric, better animations... in short, all good things. Just because they missed a deadline as no reason to abandon everything.

"I think you should go on that date, Coco," Rara said after a while of silence. "If you don't, Purple will be complaining for weeks, and I don't think I can stand his complaining much longer."

"I wouldn't be the first time."

"True, though if you take him, hopefully it will be the last." They both laughed. "Seriously just go. I'll chase Sourpuss out and lock up."

There were no arguments. The two mares ordered some cocoa to go, then left the coffee shop. They didn't hurry to get back, rather they walked slowly, looking at the various decorations that filed the streets and store windows. Everything was quite flashy, made with the single purpose of attracting attention, yet there also was some holiday spirit, visible in the way the decorations were arranged.

It was dark when they Rara and Coco arrived at their studio. Unsurprisingly, there were ponies still there. Surprisingly, one of them was Business Savvy.

"Might we help with you with anything, Mr. Savvy?" Rara asked, arching a brow.

"My daughter forgot a gift I bought her while she was playing your game," the stallion said, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

"Oh. Well, in that case I am glad you found it." Rara nodded. "Children easily get disappointed."

"Very," Business agreed. "So you still don't want to make a huge profit?" He asked in hope.

"No. I believe I made myself very clear. That is not the point of—"

"Fine! You win!" He cut her short. "I will take the arcades you have to wherever I could. You don't have a lot of them, so it shouldn't be too difficult." Rara tried to say something, but a taser hoof on Business' part indicated he was not finished. "Of course, you are aware that this is a difficult and expensive task, especially on such short notice. I'll need to pay ponies double the amount I usually do. Then there is the handling — these arcade machines are quite large. Are you prepared to pay that much?"

Rara and Coco looked at each other then back at Business Savvy. Slowly, they nodded.

"Good, because I will be taking one of your arcades as payment," he said flatly. "At least until I get tired of it."

"Mr. Savvy, did I hear correctly?" Rara asked in disbelief. Beside her, Coco was staring at the stallion, her mouth wide open.

"That, Miss Coloratura, we shall never know," he passed by them, heading towards the exit. "Make sure there is somepony here tomorrow morning at six. That is all. Oh, and happy Hearth's Warming when it arrives."


IV. Epilogue - After Hearth's Warming

"Hello," the filly said cheerfully.

Luna blinked. She had never seen anything of the sort, let alone in her dreams of all places.

"Hello, little filly," she said in turn. It was definitely a weird creature — an earth pony by the looks of it, but the scarf... or dress, it was wearing rather had the properties of a mane. If nothing else, the pony could control it at will. "Who are you?"

"I'm Song Scarf." The filly flew around Luna, its scarf extending behind it. If the Princess of the Night didn't know better, she would say it was half windigo. "Do you want to play?"

"What?" Luna blinked.

"Do you want to play with me?" Song Scarf repeated.

Thus was extremely strange. It was unusual for dreams to be so independent. Not since the Tantibus had any displayed such behaviour.

"How exactly do you suggest we play?" Luna asked cautiously.

"Simple!" Song Scarf laughed and flew straight forward. Its scarf extended again, but this time, it was no mere fabric. A trail of solid sounds remained after the filly, filling the air with its music. "I sing my trail, you sing yours and see if you can keep up with me."

Colts Will Be Colts (for Plumander)

"Fillies and colts, I'm pleased to announce we have a new student today. This is Sassy Shrimp, and he'll be joining grade one," said Cheerilee.

A tiny cyan head with curly golden locks shyly poked its way out from behind the teacher.

"Pfft, what a runt," giggled Diamond Tiara. Sassy's eyes widened and he quickly cowered back behind Cheerilee.

Scootaloo scowled in Diamond Tiara's direction. "Lay off him, Diamond Tiara," she spat.

"Scootaloo's right," said Apple Bloom. "You're s'poseda try to be nice now, remember?" said Apple Bloom.

"Ugh. Sorry, Sassy," she moaned. "But I was just stating a fact. He's small."

Cheerilee took a deep breath and put on a forced smile. "Yes, he is. But keep in mind, everypony in this room was that small at some point, too," she said.

"Even you, Mith Cheerilee?" gasped Peppermint Twist.

Cheerilee blushed slightly. "Yes, even me, although that was many years ago. Ponies grow up at different speeds, but Sassy recently turned six. That means he's old enough to join grade one now, so he'll be here whenever grade one is scheduled."

Sassy peeked out from behind Cheerilee and locked eyes with Scootaloo, who flashed the little colt a grin to make him feel more comfortable. Wow; he really was tiny, thought Scootaloo.

"Why don't you go take that empty seat?" asked Cheerilee, motioning Sassy forward with a hoof. The tiny earth pony walked toward the back of the class. Sassy closed his eyes and visibly winced as he passed Diamond Tiara and Apple Bloom.

Sassy Shrimp's seat was in the back half of the class, in the section reserved for grade one students. His seat bordered the grade six section, just one seat behind Scootaloo. Sassy clambered up into his empty seat, almost falling down in the process. Silver Spoon failed to suppress a laugh, and Sassy whined, ears folded back as he set his chin on the desk. Cheerilee flashed Silver Spoon a frown, and she blanched and sat up straight in her chair.

"Alright, class. I have some announcements, and then we'll break into grade groups for math," Cheerilee said.

Scootaloo turned her head around and smiled again at the young colt, and Sassy smiled back. The little guy seemed to be avoiding eye contact with everypony else.

At the start of recess, Sassy hugged the outside wall of the schoolhouse. It looked like he was afraid to venture out onto the playground.

"Wow. That new kid's awfully shy," said Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom nodded. "He seemed to warm up to you though, Scootaloo. Maybe you should go, y'know, chew the bit with him? With a little talkin' you might be able to get him to make some friends."

Scootaloo pouted. "I dunno, girls. I'm not worried about being uncool or anything, but I don't wanna be saddled by a pint-sized tagalong forever..."

"Once he opens up, he'll make friends in his own grade," said Sweetie Belle. "Hay, why don't we all go talk to him?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Apple Bloom, with a smile. "He might even want to be a Crusader at some point."

"Eh, his mark's gotta be a long ways off," said Scootaloo. "But yeah, let's go talk to him."

As the Cutie Mark Crusaders approached Sassy, his jaw dropped open wide. Like a flash, he scampered around the corner of the schoolhouse.

"Aw geez, this ain't goin' well. Scoots, maybe you can go talk to him by yourself?" asked Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo sighed heavily. "Fine, whatever. Wait here," she said, then walked around the corner of the schoolhouse by herself. Sassy Shrimp was cowering behind some tall grass.

"Hay, Sassy Shrimp?" said Scootaloo. "My name's Scootaloo. Can I talk to you for a second?"

Sassy peeked over the top of the grass. "S-scootaloo? Oh, it's you! Sure thing," he said, then hopped forward. His eyes lit up brightly and his tiny tail bounced a little.

Scootaloo sat down on the gravel, and Sassy followed suit. "So, Sassy. You're kinda shy, huh?" she asked.

Ugh, I'm really bad at this, thought Scootaloo. Silently, she wished Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were beside her. They'd probably scare him away, though.

"Y-yeah," he said, then smiled. "Oh, thanks ever so much for sticking up for me before! Those girls were really scary."

Scootaloo laughed. "Who, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon? They just have bad manners, they don't bite," she said. "Even if they did, if they laid a hoof on you, they'd have to answer to me."

Sassy Shrimp bounced in place. "You're so cool, Scootaloo!" he said. Scootaloo suppressed a blush.

"Yeah, I guess I am," admitted Scootaloo. "But I'm sure you can learn to be brave just like me. You need to get out there and make some friends in your grade sometime, y'know?"

Sassy's face fell. "Oh. You're too old to be my friend, huh?" he whispered.

Scootaloo grimaced. "No, don't be silly! Of course we can be friends, but you need to make friends your own age, too," she said gently. "You know, friends who like playing all the same games and can help you with your homework. That doesn't mean I'm not your friend too, okay?"

Before Sassy had a chance to answer, the bell rang. "Does that mean recess is over?" asked Sassy.

"Yeah, we'd better get back inside," said Scootaloo.

For the rest of the day, Scootaloo kept a close eye on Sassy to make sure he was okay. To her relief, the little boy started to open up with some of the ponies in his grade. Sassy spoke to the other two colts in grade one several times, but stayed quiet around all the fillies.

After school got out, Sassy walked up to Scootaloo. He looked nervous.

"Hay Scootaloo! Um, I think my dad has the wrong time for picking me up," he said, trotting nervously in place. "He thought he was s'poseda be here at five..."

"Yikes, that's like an hour and a half from now! Well, I guess I can babysit you," she said.

"I'm not a baby!" Sassy pouted.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean that. I just mean—look, I was going to the clubhouse to meet a couple of my friends. Why don't you come with me, and then I can walk you back here before your dad shows up?" she asked.

Sassy looked excited, then suddenly changed to horrified. Scootaloo turned around. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were standing there with wide grins.

"Ugh, you two again," said Scootaloo.

"Looks like you got a new little friend," teased Diamond Tiara. Silver Spoon giggled.

"So what?" said Scootaloo. "He needs a friend. Can't you see you're scaring him?"

Diamond Tiara sighed. "Okay, fine. Look, Sassy Squirt, or whatever. I'm sorry about teasing you earlier," she said. "Um, you can come out now," she added.

Scootaloo craned her head and noticed Sassy was hiding behind her. "She's trying to be nice, Sassy," she said.

"O-okay," whispered Sassy. "Thank you." He remained hidden behind Scootaloo's flank.

Silver Spoon shrugged. "Hay, we tried," she said. The pair turned and walked away.

Scootaloo reached down with a hoof and scruffed Sassy's mane. "Look, kid. I know ponies can be scary sometimes, but you gotta stand up for yourself a little. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you," she promised. Scootaloo started walking toward the treehouse, and Sassy walked tightly against her heels.

"Yeah, I know," said Sassy. "But girls are so scary. I've always been afraid," he said.

"What, of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon?" asked Scootaloo. "Did you meet them before school today?"

Sassy shook his head. "No, just fillies in general! They're so weird, and they can be mean, and..."

Scootaloo stopped walking. "Sassy, you know that I'm, um..."

"The awesomest colt in school?" he smiled broadly.

Scootaloo felt her stomach sink.

"Oh horse apples," she mumbled, planting her hoof against her face.

"What's wrong Scootaloo? Are you mad at me?" said Sassy, the edges of his muzzle quivering.

Scootaloo shook her head. "No, it's fine... I just, I guess because you're really young, you don't realize..." she said, unsure of what else to do. "Look, we can talk about this later. Maybe it'll help once you meet my friends."

Both ponies continued their trip toward the Crusaders' treehouse, but Scootaloo's muzzle was scrunched up in worry the entire way. What in Equestria have I gotten myself into, thought Scootaloo? How can I break it to him that I'm a filly without scarring the little guy for life?

"A real-live treehouse!" squealed Sassy Shrimp. He followed Scootaloo up the ramp and into the building, and Scootaloo shut the door after them. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were already here. They were building something long and thin from wooden pieces.

"Sassy Shrimp, you remember Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle from class, right? They're my two best friends," said Scootaloo.

"Oh! Hi Apple—" said Sassy, and then he froze in place.

"Did we... break him?" asked Sweetie Belle. As she stepped closer, Sassy yelped and backed into a corner of the treehouse.

"They're fillies!" he whispered, shaking.

"It's okay, Sassy. They're my friends," said Scootaloo.

"Y-you have a fillyfriend? Two fillyfriends?!" gasped Sassy, cowering and shivering in the corner. "Oh wow, you really are cool..."

Scootaloo blushed like fire. "What? No! I mean, they're not fillyfriends, they're just normal friends, that happen to be fillies. It's okay, they won't hurt you. They're good ponies, just like you and me."

Sassy seemed to calm down a little.

"Scootaloo, why doesn't he seem to mind that you're—" said Apple Bloom. Scootaloo's dusty hoof plunked right into Apple Bloom's muzzle, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"He doesn't know yet," whispered Scootaloo.

Sweetie Belle nodded. "Ohhhhh. That makes sense," she said.

"What?" said Apple Bloom, removing Scootaloo's hoof. "How does that make any sense?"

Sweetie shrugged. "Well, I didn't know for like, a week after we met."

Scootaloo's jaw dropped, but no words came out.

"Sweetie Belle, you can't be serious," said Apple Bloom, with a very serious face.

"I am! I didn't!" insisted Sweetie Belle. "I mean, she was a couple years younger then, so it was easier to get confused. You know."

Scootaloo still looked shocked. "Seriously?"

"I mean, didn't you even look, Sweetie Belle?" asked Apple Bloom.

"Apple Bloom!" whispered Scootaloo, blushing.

"Look at what? The muzzle doesn't look all that different when you're young," said Sweetie Belle.

"Oh for cryin' out loud. At her hindquarters, Sweetie!" Apple Bloom nearly shouted.

It was Sweetie Belle's turn to blush. "I don't look at ponies there! Rarity says that isn't polite because some ponies might have bad hygiene back there, 'specially foals. Like, with toilet paper and stuff."

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, and Scootaloo sighed dejectedly.

"What're you all talking about?" said a confused Sassy Shrimp, still cowering in the corner.

Scootaloo took a deep breath, grabbed Apple Bloom by the hoof, and walked her over to Sassy.

"Sassy, this is Apple Bloom. She's a good friend of mine, and she's a filly. C'mon, shake," she directed.

Sassy Shrimp gingerly took her hoof in his hoof and shook. "Um, hi?" he said.

Apple Bloom smiled. "And this is Sweetie Belle," she said. Sweetie approached, and Sassy looked a lot more nervous.

"Are you okay?" asked Sweetie Belle, reaching out to shake hooves.

"Y-yeah, you're just like, really girly," he said.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "Look, squirt. There's nothing dangerous here, okay? These are just my friends," said Scootaloo.

Sassy seemed to calm down a bit as he looked past the fillies to what they were building. "W-what's that?" he asked meekly.

"Oh, we're buildin' a racetrack for some toy carts," said Apple Bloom, pointing to some toy carts and trains over by the track.

"But... you're girls! Fillies don't play with toy carts, do they?" asked Sassy.

"Of course we—er, I mean, of course fillies do," said Scootaloo.

Sassy looked confused, and Sweetie Belle turned to Scootaloo. "C'mon Scootaloo, you gotta tell him sometime," she said.

Scootaloo took a deep breath. "Okay. Look, Sassy, I gotta come clean about something, but you have to promise me not to be scared."

Sassy nodded. "I'll try real hard but I'm kinda scared right now," he said.

"I'm a girl, Sassy."

Sassy's jaw dropped. "That's not funny!" he said.

"It's not a joke. I'm a filly. Look at my muzzle. I'm in grade six; it'd be pointer than this by now, don't you think?" asked Scootaloo.

"B-but you're so cool! And you act like a colt!" said Sassy. His knees began to tremble.

Scootaloo sat down and the other Crusaders followed suit. Sassy slowly lay down onto the floor with them.

"Look, Sassy, you trust me, right?" asked Scootaloo. "I mean, you trusted me before I told you this."

Sassy nodded. "I'm confused, but yeah, I trust you."

"Then let me tell you a secret about fillies that will help you to get along with us and not be scared. Okay?" said Scootaloo.

Sassy nodded again and bit nervously at his lower lip.

"Okay, here's the secret. Fillies are ponies." Scootaloo spoke slowly and clearly, with emphasis.

Sassy's little brow furrowed up. "Well of course," he said. "I mean, I know that, I'm not stupid."

Apple Bloom shook her head. "She means fillies are people just like you. We girls like to make friends, and play games, and do all the same kinda stuff colts do."

"Like play with trains and stuff?" said Sassy, his ears perking up.

"Sure!" said Sweetie Belle, with a smile. "And we even get scared like you, and we have dreams, and we make-believe, and we get good feelings and bad feelings and everything else."

"We're not that different at all, to be honest," said Scootaloo. "I mean, you thought I was a colt because I was cool, and maybe 'cause of how I talk?"

"Oh, and the scooter! I saw you once doing tricks outside, a couple of weeks ago. Your scooter is really cool," said Sassy.

Scootaloo grinned with a touch of pride. "Well, that doesn't mean I'm a colt. Girls can do those things too, because girls can do anything," said Scootaloo. "Being a filly doesn't mean you have to act a certain way, or only make friends with other fillies."

"And boys can do anything too, of course," added Apple Bloom. "Maybe not become alicorns, but who knows? Someday there even might be an alicorn prince."

"Well, let's not go overboard," said Scootaloo.

Sassy Shrimp exhaled a tremendous sigh of relief. "Oh wow, this is really weird. But I guess if you like doing stuff like this too, maybe... maybe fillies really aren't that different," he realized aloud.

Scootaloo stood up and reached out a hoof. "That's the idea! Now would you like to play with us for a while, before I take you back to the schoolhouse?" she asked.

Sassy looked nervously back and forth at Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. "Okay!" he finally said, and ran over to where the toy carts were.

"That went well," said Sweetie Belle, smiling.

"Um, Scootaloo?" said Sassy Shrimp as he picked up a toy cart.

"Yeah, pint-size?" she said, scruffing him playfully on the top of his mane.

Sassy took a deep swallow of air. "Um, this doesn't mean I'm your coltfriend or something, does it?" he asked nervously.

Apple Bloom giggled, and Scootaloo's cheeks turned bright red.

"Um, no. We're just friends, that's all," said Scootaloo.

"Whew," said Sassy Shrimp, relieved. "You're a good friend, for a filly and all, but havin' a special somepony is kind of gross."

"You said it, champ," said Scootaloo, with a big grin.

Dinkin' Donuts (for DarkDarsi)

Sometimes, fillies awaken with a sense of great portent for the day. Their eyes flick open with a blink and a wink, and they trundle to the washroom with less of the mundane on their minds and more of the endless possibilities that an absence of expectations might provide. What a delightful irony, if one could appreciate such, that the most promise came from a day with no plan.

On such a limitless morning, Dinky sat up in bed and felt right down to the little scuff on the front left corner of the front left hoof on the front left leg in the front left fold of her blanket that today held just that much in store. Hearth’s Warming Eve, and she would certainly divine the best present idea for the best mother ever. For fillies never doubt such things and strain the little cogwheels in the thought-mechanisms always running in their minds. No, providence had a way of giving them just what they needed, just when they needed it, or so her experience had gone each of the last four Hearth’s Warming Eves. And since she could only remember four Hearth’s Warming Eves, a perfect track record bespoke no possibility of error.

Thus she held her head high on her way down the hall. With a splish-splash of her washcloth, a swish-swash of her toothbrush, and the swoosh of a comb, Dinky emerged ready to conquer her one charge: find a present suitable for her mother. “Today, I will do it.” she said, snapping a terse nod at whatever Fates might be observing. “Today, I will get my mommy the perfect gift.”

Last year, the perfect gift had been a hoofmade picture frame, but now it sat all flopsy-lopsided on the bookshelf, she noted as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Oh, how foolish to have thought that such a thing epitomized the pinnacle of craftsponyship, but she wouldn’t have known better at the time. What a silly filly to assume that so young, she could have captured the exemplar of Hearth’s Warming gifts for years to come. A popsicle-stick frame, indeed!

But this year, this year, she finally had it.

“Have a great day at school!” Derpy called over her shoulder as she hustled out the door to begin her mail route. What a silly mommy! They didn’t have school on Hearth’s Warming Eve! But no matter. Better to have her mommy occupied so that Dinky could scheme in private.

So with a skip-trot and a twirl for good measure, she arrived at the kitchen table. And like every Hearth’s Warming Eve before (all four she could remember, anyway), the Fates once again smiled down upon her. There, not inches from her nose lay a steaming cup and a donut, barely two bites clipped from the cakey, crumbly ring.

Of course her mommy loved muffins, but even a favorite meal needs a garnish here and there. And so the little accent that each morning needed was a donut, only one, with a fresh mug of coffee for dunking. There came the rub: her four years of wisdom had culminated in the realization that perfection demanded a price. Donuts and coffee offered little where portability was concerned. They took both hooves to wield, and the coffee tended to slosh about in flight. Thus, Derpy had to leave both behind when she’d pushed her schedule to the limits of its tensile strength. There they sat on the table, growing colder and more stale by the minute.

No longer. Already, her brain chugged and churned to solve this particular problem, no doubt one plaguing most of Equestria. Afterward, she could move on to lesser matters, like advising the princesses on international intrigue, but for now, they’d have to forgo her keen intellect. Hearth’s Warming demanded it.

The order of the day: one-hoofed portable coffee and donuts.

Already, an idea clinked and clanked around in her head, confounded only by the fact that she wasn’t allowed to use the oven unsupervised. Any expert in her field (the properly humble ones, at least) knew when to enlist a colleague’s aid. To Pinkie Pie’s, then!

She hummed a tune, tra-la-la, down the road, a skip, a stop, a hop-frog trot, down, down the road. No weepy eyes, no cloudy skies, a nip of cold, a filly bold, down the road, tra-la.

At the end of her journey lay Sugarcube Corner, where lived the first pony who came to mind when matters of confection arose. Dinky stepped through the door with a ting-jingle of its small bell, but likely nopony but she herself heard it; the showroom absolutely teemed with ponies bustling and jostling and hustling to get to the counter for their Hearth’s Warming treats.

Dinky hung her head, but the Fates remained faithful. While Mr. and Mrs. Cake raced to and fro to fill all the orders, Pinkie strode through the crowd, all the customers making way for her. She crouched down with a big silly grin—she must have known somehow!—and spoke softly, though the mountain-brook spill of laughter underneath it easily carried over all the murmurs.

“You look like a filly who needs help with something,” Pinkie said.

“I want to get my super mommy a super Hearth’s Warming gift!” Dinky replied, and Pinkie waited for the rest, because a filly with that particular twist to her nose surely hadn’t finished. “She likes a donut and coffee before she starts her mail route, but so many mornings, she runs out of time and has to leave it behind. I want to make coffee and donuts that she can take with her and eat with one hoof.”

A little sparkle danced across Dinky’s eyes and exited stage left. “I have an idea.”

Such words from industrious filles never fail to strike fear into grown-up hearts, but luckily, Pinkie Pie didn’t possess one of those. “Step into my office,” Pinkie said, gesturing toward the kitchen door. “Mrs. Cake!” she shrieked above the din. “Can I have a break to try something out?”

“I don’t think it’s the best—”

“Thanks!” Pinkie shouted, waving madly and shoving Dinky in amongst the counters and ovens and mixing bowls dripping with seventeen and a half shades of batter. Once again, she bent down to filly level. “What’s your idea?”

“Well,” Dinky began. Her eyes widened at the prospect of sharing her wisdom with somepony who could appreciate it properly. “I thought we could inject the coffee into the donut—” she poked one hoof into the other “—so you can eat it all at once.”

Pinke hemmed and hawed and held a hoof to her chin. “Yes, yes. I think it could work. But we don’t make donuts here. Let’s try it with a cupcake! If that turns out well, we can go from there.”

Pinkie plucked a perfect purple one from a muffin pan on the counter, then slid it down the maple surface until it came to rest just in front of a steaming coffee pot. A quick pirouette and a flick of the hoof had a full mug next to the cupcake. So Pinkie took a bread knife, poked the tip oh-so-carefully into the top and worked her way around its circumference. She pulled the cone-shaped cap off, and as Dinky watched (good thing she’d come to the right place for baking know-how!), Pinkie poured a tiny puddle in the cavity, then one drip, two drips, three last drips for luck. The brown liquid disappeared almost instantly into the golden cake.

“Let’s give ’er a sample!” Pinkie Pie said. She lifted the cupcake high above her head, so that it could shine its glory upon them.

It collapsed into a pile of mush, slid off her hoof, and landed on the tile floor with a great big splat.

“Hm. I didn’t expect that,” Pinkie said, her mouth contorting into a second-degree frown. Her ears even drooped into a dour drear, but she soon hopped in the air. “Ooh!” I bet we could ask Pony Joe! He knows donuts like nopony else!”

Dinky followed Pinkie’s perky pronking out to the sales room again. “Back later, Mrs. Cake! Gotta go on a road trip to Canterlot!”

“But Pinkie, it’s one of the busiest days of the year!”

Pinkie somehow stopped in midair and peered down with the most intense stare Dinky had ever seen. “Little filly. Baking emergency.”

Mrs. Cake forced a grin. “Oh… okay? Does her mother mind?”

Of course not, and she wouldn’t be home for hours anyway, but Pinkie didn’t wait to give an answer. To Canterlot, then!

They hummed a tune, tra-la-la, down the road, a skip, a stop, a hop-frog trot, down, down the road. No weepy eyes, no cloudy skies, a nip of cold, a filly bold, pink happy face, down the road, tra-la.

“All aboard for Canterlot!” Pinkie shouted once they’d reached the station. The uniformed pony next to her had just cupped his hooves to his mouth to yell something, but now the crestfallen conductor flattened his ears. Then Pinkie tugged her onto the train car.

Rarely before had Dinky seen the countryside pass by from so low. Most times she’d ridden the train, she’d stayed with her mother in the second-level loft used to carry the mail. But aside from the different view, she had not a whit of trepidation, not a bit of consternation, not with her Auntie Pinkie by her side, or so Pinkie kept calling herself. “Auntie Pinkie will keep you safe,” she said, but riding on her back as she bounced up and down the aisles of a moving train car didn’t seem too safe.

“Have you ever traveled to Canterlot?” Pinkie asked.

“Yes,” Dinky replied with a swift nod, “my mommy holds on to me tight when the train rocks. Then we go flying around the streets, and she makes sure I have a good grip on her mane. She says she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me, and if I’ve been good (which is always), she buys me an oatmeal cookie.”

Pinkie smiled the kind of smile that had warm hugs behind it. “Wow! It sounds like you’ve got a great mom!”

“Mmhmm,” Dinky said. And she did. More ponies should know that.

They disembarked at the Canterlot station, then a clip and a clop over cobblestone tops soon had them poking their noses through the door of Pony Joe’s donut bakery. “Pinkie Pie!” he roared with a flashy grin upon catching sight of her. “Welcome back to my shop! It’s good to see you again. What can I get ya?”

Pinkie ushered Dinky in, who took a deep, delicious breath with sprinkles on it, stood before the counter, and said, “I want to get my super mommy a super Hearth’s Warming gift! She likes a donut and coffee before she starts her mail route, but so many mornings, she runs out of time and has to leave it behind. I want to make coffee and donuts that she can take with her and eat with one hoof.”

“And pouring a little lake in the top didn’t work for cupcakes. It got all mushy,” Pinkie added, squashing her mane down to illustrate. “But that’s cupcakes. I figured you’d know more about donuts.”

“I see,” he answered in his grumbly-growly voice as he wrinkled his forehead. “Donuts can take moisture better, but maybe we’re going about this wrong. Come with me.” Pony Joe made a grand sweep of his hoof and beckoned toward the swinging door to the kitchen, so Pinkie led Dinky into the back.

And Dinky marvelled at all the machines! Every counter, every shelf: a jelly jammer, a crueller crimper, a glazing gun, and a definitely decadent whipped-cream dolloper! This year’s model! Pony Joe followed her gaze to it and draped a foreleg over it. “Yep,” he replied, his eyebrows wiggling and waggling. “My pride and joy. And this baby—” he jabbed an elbow toward it “—is gonna solve all our problems.”

He immediately got to work. With a fluff-puff of flour hovering about his head, he folded in sugar and cream and shortening and some fresh-ground coffee beans. He stirred and stirred, his madcap mixing mayhem threatening to get him airborne, until he unleashed a barrage of light brown liquid straight up into the air. On its trip back down, he walloped it with a baking sheet, smacking it into the dolloper’s bin and slamming the door shut before it could escape. Only a splotch of coffee-brown on his apron commemorated his escapade.

With a final flourish, Pony Joe flicked on the switch and leaned against the counter, his eyes closed and an angelic smile just above his raised chin.

Pinkie clapped. “Ooh, that’s—”

“Shh,” Pony Joe said. “Just let it work its magic.”

Dinky had only seen a professional-grade whipped cream dolloper in a catalog before. She couldn’t help staring, but Pony Joe only nudged his paper hat up and beamed at it as he might a favorite nephew. “Gotta treat it right,” he said, rubbing the back of a hoof over a smudged patch of chrome, “and it’ll treat you right in return. Say, that must be a great mother you have for you to go to all this trouble for her.”

“Yes,” Dinky said, a little spark dancing on the end of her horn. “She tells me every day that I’m her special filly, and I’ll have a hug and kiss waiting for me when I get home from school.”

“Good,” he replied. “Then we’ll make extra sure to fix a wonderful donut for her.”

The shiny machine whisked and whirled, hummed and thrummed, Pinkie’s eyes widening the whole time. When at last the buzzer sounded and the mechanism whirred to a stop, Pony Joe scooped up some of the creamy coffee confection, packed it into a piping bag, and squeezed it into an unfilled donut. “Whaddya think?” he said, scooting the powder-coated treat across the counter.

One great big bite, and Dinky licked her lips. Perhaps it was a little bitter, but it tasted of the rich, roasted aroma that always emanated from her mother’s mug. Still, something was off about it.

“Can it be hot, though? Mommy likes the way her coffee warms her up on cold mornings.” Dinky took a second bite. It made a nice taste treat for a filly, but it wouldn’t quite fit the bill for a daily pick-me-up.

(“Can I have a try?” Pinkie peeped from behind her.)

Pony Joe rubbed the whiskers on his chin and clicked his tongue. “Ah. No, I’m afraid a whipped cream filling wouldn’t do too well hot. Sorry, kid. Tell ya what, though. My friend Mulia Mild works with all kind of fillings and toppings and icings. Fudge, fondue, fondant… you name it. She lives just a few streets over. Let’s go ask her if she can come up with something hot.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, already heading out to the dining area. “Watch the shop for me, Blintz,” he called to the young stallion by the cash register. “We got us a Hearth’s Warming pastry pickle.”

“Ooh, pastry pickle! That gives me an idea!” Pinkie chimed in as she rolled her eyes up and committed the recipe to memory. Then, out the door with the whole group, on to Mulia’s home!

They hummed a tune, tra-la-la, down the road, a skip, a stop, a hop-frog trot, down, down the road. No weepy eyes, no cloudy skies, a nip of cold, a filly bold, pink happy face, a donut ace, down the road, tra-la.

Pony Joe ambled up the front walk to Mulia’s door and knocked thrice. “Ms. Mild?” he called when the door didn’t immediately open. A shadow drifted across the pinprick of light visible on the peephole.

“If you want an autograph, you’ll have to come to the book signing next week,” a very prim and proper voice sounded through the door.

“It’s me, Ms. M! Pony Joe. We have a filly with a donut dilemma!”

The deadbolt clicked, and the door immediately swung open. “Come in, come in!” Mulia warbled like an oversized lark. Her long ears swiveled to and fro to navigate through the maze of corridors whilst catching any bit of filly-sized speech.

So Dinky started: “I want to get my super mommy a super Hearth’s Warming gift! She likes a donut and coffee before she starts her mail route, but so many mornings, she runs out of time and has to leave it behind. I want to make coffee and donuts that she can take with her and eat with one hoof.”

“And pouring a little lake in the top didn’t work for cupcakes. It got all mushy,” Pinkie added.

“And whipping up a coffee cream filling got the flavor, but not the warmth,” Pony Joe finished.

Mule hooves went a-clip, a-clop over the floors (just the same as pony hooves, but a little lower-pitched), down all the halls, by all the walls, until they stood in a kitchen, every surface gleaming with polished ceramic and stainless steel. “So,” Mulia said, pulling out a percolator, “I see the problem. I wonder if we shouldn’t approach it from the other side, hm?”

“Like... “ Dinky started, but she didn’t get very far. Adults liked to say things that sounded complicated but didn’t actually mean anything, at least in her experience. So she huffed out a sigh and squinted one eye and gave a big, slouchy shrug.

“You’ve been trying to put the coffee in the donut,” Mulia said with a gentle smile, the kind aunts always had when uncles would tease a bit too much. “Why not try putting the donut in the coffee?”

Derpy already did that.

But Mulia must have seen the words all twisted up in Dinky’s throat, because she patted Dinky on the head. “If I turn my back,” she said with a pointed glance at Pony Joe, “would you make up a small bowl of seasoning blend for one of your cinnamon donuts?”

“Um…” Pony Joe scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m not sure where this is goin’.”

Mulia let out a beauty-pageant laugh. “I’m going to spice the coffee to taste like a donut. Then we can pour a cup of it, put a lid on top, add a straw, and voilá!” She slapped her hooves together. “Portable coffee and donuts!”

“Could work,” Pony Joe replied with a slight nod. So he hunched over the counter, pulled a bunch of bottles from the spice rack, and slid over three small bowls while Mulia stood facing out the window.

Dinky had never seen such a flurry of activity before! Three bowls, a good sprinkling of cinnamon in each, then a nugget of nutmeg in one, a clump of cloves in another, a modicum of mint in two, a peppering of paprika in the third…

Pony Joe flashed Dinky a wink as he finished up and promptly washed the contents of two of the bowls down the drain. “Wouldn’t put it past a professional to know the level in every bottle,” he whispered. “Now, nopony can tell which ones I actually used and how much. Except you.”

Quickly, Dinky mimed a zip of the lip, and Pony Joe smiled back at her. “Alright, Miss M,” he said, and Mulia returned to the counter, then poured the spice blend into her percolator, along with a big scoop of coffee grounds, big enough to keep even Derpy awake after one of her movie nights with her friends.

“And now we wait,” Mulia said. That wonderful rich, warm scent filled the air while the percolator bubbled and popped and steamed, tilting this way and that. Dinky clenched her teeth, but Mulia smiled and patted the persnickety pot. “Don’t worry, dear. It’ll behave itself. It’s like a good child, who might make you nervous at times, but you just tell her you love her, and she always does the right thing.”

Mulia cocked her head, and her eyes sparkled like the jars of glitter on Miss Cheerilee’s shelf at school. “For you to come all the way to Canterlot and look for so much help to make your mother’s gift, she must be very special.”

“Oh, yes!” Dinky said. “Every morning, the first thing she does is tell me how much she loves me and that it’s going to be a great day.” She hugged her forelegs across her chest and rocked back and forth, just the way Mommy would do it. She could almost feel her mommy right there with her, alongside the smells of coffee and flour and spices, like in her own home.

Even more wrinkles creased Mulia’s face, each one a treasured memory of another smile this big, or so all Dinky’s great aunts and grandmothers said. Mulia patted Dinky the same way she had her percolator, and as if prompted, the pot gave one last bubble and wheeze.

“Ah!” Mulia reached for a cup and filled it halfway. “There. Now, we’ll handle the lid and straw later. First, we must worry about flavor.” Dinky reached for it with a stutter-stop, but Mulia slid the mug away. “Give it a moment to cool, dear.”

All eyes remained on it, trying to pinpoint that moment when it would reach the temperature needed for safe tasting as the steam clouds thinned out from cumulonimbus to stratus to cirrus (naturally, the daughter of a pegasus had long since learned to differentiate). Then with barely a nod, Mulia pushed the cup back to her.

Dinky sidled up to the counter’s edge and tilted the mug toward herself, letting the savory waves lap against her lips while she breathed in the scintillating, cinnamon-sparked scent. At last, she opened her mouth, and the tiny tide tantalized her tongue. A moment, two moments passed as she waited for the bouquet to blend with the taste and linger on to aftereffects.

She smiled. “It’s good!” Everyone released a held breath, and Pinkie bounced so high, she almost dislodged a few pans from the overhead rack. Grins shone all around, and Mulia poured a cup for each.

So Dinky drained her mug, and with that sweetly bitter smack of spice on her lips, she sank to her haunches with the well-earned slump of a task completed.

And her stomach growled.

The others had passed around cups and congratulation, but one by one, they glanced at her, and as much as Dinky would have liked to maintain her blissful mien, she just couldn’t. And one by one, their own grins faded.

“It tastes great,” she said in response to their raised eyebrows, “but it’s not filling. Mommy needs a good breakfast, and without the actual donut, it’s not a meal.”

Mulia heaved a hearty sigh and nodded like a rocking chair in a spring zephyr. “You’re right, of course.” Her ears tucked and tottered, pricked and pointed, but she didn’t suggest anything else. In the end, she squinted out the window and to the sun, beginning to dip toward the horizon. “I believe we might need to think outside the box on this one.”

“We didn’t bring a box…” Pinkie started, but Mulia shimmy-shook her head.

“Gustave le Grande often works right on the cutting edge of culinary science.” Pinkie reached for the knife block, her mouth all poised and primed to speak again, but Mulia once again forestalled her loquaciousness with a tap to her nose. “I think he may have a few ideas of how to solve our little quandary. And he’s in town to lead a cooking class this week.”

With nary a second wasted on waiting for an answer, the ensemble filed back outside, Mulia leading the way east and the sun at their backs. Off to see Gustave, then!

They hummed a tune, tra-la-la, down the road, a skip, a stop, a hop-frog trot, down, down the road. No weepy eyes, no cloudy skies, a nip of cold, a filly bold, pink happy face, a donut ace, a donkey’s cheer, down the road, tra-la.

Next to the biggest, most lovely lavish hotel Dinky had ever seen stood a conference room, and Mulia made a beeline for it (if said bee were confined to the ground). Inside, tables lay scattered about with stacks of stainless steel stock pots and strainers, but very few ponies. They must have wrapped up for the day, since the few remaining ponies were on their way out the door, and the uniformed staff were carting away the dirty dishes.

Mulia approached a griffon directing traffic, and he jumped. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You… wish to enroll? I am afraid ze class has ended.” His eyes only widened more as he glanced down the line to Pony Joe and Pinkie Pie.

“No, no, we have a frazzled filly here with a Hearth’s Warming emergency,” Mulia said, ushering Dinky to the head of the formation.

“Ah,” Gustave replied. He nodded tersely and took a seat at his demonstration counter. “Please. Tell me what is ze problem.”

So Dinky started: “I want to get my super mommy a super Hearth’s Warming gift! She likes a donut and coffee before she starts her mail route, but so many mornings, she runs out of time and has to leave it behind. I want to make coffee and donuts that she can take with her and eat with one hoof.”

“And pouring a little lake in the top didn’t work for cupcakes. It got all mushy,” Pinkie added.

“And whipping up a coffee cream filling got the flavor, but not the warmth,” Pony Joe continued.

“And flavoring the coffee like a donut lacks the substance to satisfy hunger,” Mulia finished.

“Zat is quite ze comestible conundrum,” Gustave replied with a rub of talon over beak.

Pony Joe pulled his paper hat off and held it to his chest. “Miss M figured you’d have some newfangled way to combine the two.”

“If not, Dinky might burst into tears, and I just can’t stand to see a pony so sad!” Pinkie cried, a telltale trace of tear tracks already forming on her cheeks. She stared, sobbing, into the mirror sheen of a clean mixing bowl, then hid her face. “Make it stop!” she keened.

Gustave squeezed her shoulder gently, like a mustard bottle that might erupt all over a carrot dog if put under too much pressure. “I have it!” he said, his eyes glinting like the cutting edge Mulia had promised he possessed. With a wing-flick and a tongue-click, he waved a claw toward the chalkboard. “Once again, I believe ze current trend holds all ze answers. It is all ze rage right now! Deconstruction!”

Pony Joe scratched his head. Pinkie tilted hers. But Mulia gasped. “Do you mean…?”

If Pony Joe and Pinkie Pie were stumped, a filly had no chance, but Gustave beckoned them in as if sharing a secret. “You see,” he said, “it is like taking somezing apart.” He arranged two half-slices of baguette on opposite ends of a plate, with a dab of citron marmalade, a daub of cream cheese, and a dusting of allspice between them. “You may choose to assemble ze parts yourself and eat what is commonplace. Or you may enjoy zem individually and gain a new appreciation for ze whole.”

“Then we should…” Pinkie said, alternately mashing together and pulling asunder some imaginary treat between her forehooves. Her previous perfectly pleased grin bent into a frown.

“Just like one need not see ze bread and jam and cheese and seasonings as a sandwich,” Gustave continued, “why see coffee and donuts as… coffeeanddonuts?”

“Ah!” everyone chorused, except for Dinky, who scratched her head. It made sense, but something seemed off. Still, she had expert opinions, so it must be right.

Gustave balled up his talons and reached them over to one corner of the counter. “You keep ze coffee—” he then swung his forelegs to the other end “—and ze donuts separate. Each stays as it was meant to be, undisturbed, and if ze eater wishes, she may dunk ze donut in ze coffee.”

That sounded okay. Yes, Dinky was sure of it. Her smile grew and grew until it had spread across her whole face and her whole head and her whole body, and she vibrated in place. When she could hold it no longer, she flung her hooves around Gustave. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she shouted. “Now I can give my mommy the perfect Hearth’s Warming gift!”

“You are very welcome, child. Zis must be a special mother for you to go to zis much trouble. I expect ze deconstruction, she does not work so well for you two, non? Much better togezer zan apart?” he said, returning the hug.

Dinky nodded so hard that she nearly fell over. “Yes, we do things together all the time—bake muffins, go to the park, or she’ll take me flying.”

With a long, luxuriant sigh, Gustave closed his eyes. “Good. Zat is ze important thing. Not zis, zis… coffee and donuts,” he said, waggling his talons over the table as if sprinkling them with sugar. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to see zis through. You are returning home, non? To give your mother ze present? I would very much like to see zis. If you do not mind.” And Gustave did wait for an answer.

“Of course!” Dinky replied. “Friends are always welcome!” She turned to Mulia and Pony Joe and Pinkie Pie, too. “Will you all come?”

“Sounds splendiferous!” Pinkie chimed.

“Sure. Blintz can close up shop for me,” Pony Joe added.

“I can think of no better way to put a little bow on this day than to see the look on your mother’s face,” Mulia finished. So Dinky led them all out the door. Off to Ponyville and her house!

They hummed a tune, tra-la-la, down the road, a skip, a stop, a hop-frog trot, down, down the road. No weepy eyes, no cloudy skies, a nip of cold, a filly bold, pink happy face, a donut ace, a donkey’s cheer, a chef premier, down the road, tra-la.

And everyone sat in the back, the train’s wheels all a-click, a-clack, while friends shared tales of food and cheer, til Dinky’s town and home drew near.

They stepped onto Ponyville’s train platform, and Dinky herself led the procession as the sun ducked below the horizon for good, taking refuge from the evening chill.

Dinky opened the front door to her house, and the aroma of baking muffins beckoned her in. “Dinky?” a voice called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Dinky replied as she emerged from the darkened foyer.

“Did you stay out playing with—?” Derpy stared at the four ponies filing in after the filly.

Dinky made a grandiose wave toward her. “Everyone, this is my mom, Derpy.” Then she turned to her mother. “You know Pinkie already. These are Pony Joe, Mulia Mild, and Gustave le Grande. They helped me make the perfect Hearth’s Warming present for you!”

Derpy paused from scrubbing out her mixing bowl and shut off the faucet. “Oh?”

“See,” Dinky said, “You like a donut and coffee before you start your mail route, but so many mornings, you run out of time and have to leave it behind. I want to make coffee and donuts that you can take with you and eat with one hoof.”

Her mom wore an immense grin and rested a hoof on her hip. “That seems like an interesting problem to solve. What did you come up with, sweetie?”

“I wanted to combine them, but I didn’t know how,” Dinky answered.

“And pouring a little lake in the top didn’t work for cupcakes. It got all mushy,” Pinkie added.

“And whipping up a coffee cream filling got the flavor, but not the warmth,” Pony Joe continued.

“And flavoring the coffee like a donut lacks the substance to satisfy hunger,” Mulia finished.

Gustave ran a talon along his moustache. “So I thought zat putting zem togezer was not ze solution. Why not separate ze two and deconstruct zem? Zen you can enjoy each for its own unique properties.”

“Yeah!” Dinky chirped. “Now, instead of having a cup of coffee in one hoof and a donut in the other to dunk, you can have them separate, so you have the donut in one hoof and dunk it into the… coffee in… the other.”

Her face fell. Pinkie paled, Pony Joe picked at a pastern, Mulia mumbled an “oh my!” and Gustave grimaced.

Dinky squeezed her eyes shut, but no matter how tight she got them, the tears found their way out. “I’m sorry,” she said. But she soon felt a wing around her and a hoof running down her mane.

“Don’t be. I can’t believe you went to all this trouble. It means a lot to me that you thought I deserved it.”

“Oh, yes!” Pinkie barked. “She does! On the way here, she told us stories about the things you do together, and while we cooked, she said how special you make her feel.” Her pink ears pricked, and she bounced around the room. “Dinky told me you keep her safe on trips to Canterlot, and you buy her a cookie!”

“She told me you make sure she knows she’s special, and you welcome her home from school with a hug and kiss every day,” Pony Joe said, sliding his hat off.

“She told me that you awaken her each morning by saying you love her and that it will be a great day,” Mulia contributed with a swish of her tail.

“She told me zat you always make ze time for her, to go flying, play in ze park, or—” he nudged an elbow toward the hot oven “—bake ze muffins.”

Pinkie’s penultimate prance and last leap landed her right in front of Derpy. “We all thought you must be such an amazing mother that we all had to come and meet you and be your friend! Of course, I already know you, but I didn’t know that about you. ’Cause if I didn’t know you, I would still have to throw you a ‘getting to know you because I don’t already know you and still have to throw you a getting to know you party’ party.”

Still tucked under Derpy’s wing, Dinky felt a shake, then two shakes. She looked up, and Mommy was crying! “I’m sorry!” Dinky said again. “I wish it would have worked!”

Derpy tousled Dinky’s mane. “No, dear. It doesn’t matter. You just gave me the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“No!” Derpy crouched down and wiped both their cheeks dry. “You’ve made me feel like the most special pony around, that your new friends would want to meet me just because of what I do for you, which I’d want to do anyway, since it’s right.”

Dinky hugged her mommy back and scrunched her nose up. “Can our friends stay for dinner?”

“Certainly!” Derpy answered. “I have muffins baking, and I was about to start on a carrot soup.”

“I can handle the soup, if you don’t mind,” Mulia said.

“And I shall make a salad,” Gustave tossed in.

Pony Joe put his hat back on and said, “I’ll mix up a spiced cider punch.”

And Pinkie rattled around in the cookware cabinet for a baking sheet. “I’ll whip up some cookies for dessert. You just go relax, and we’ll have you a yummylicious dinner, lickety-split!”

So Dinky tugged on Derpy’s wing—their friends would handle everything—and led her mommy to the couch, where they could rest and slump and slouch. With two quick sighs and crooked eyes and tempting scents to appetize, Derpy hugged her daughter near and wiped away another tear.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Mommy!” Dinky said.

“That’s tomorrow, or we would have never pulled them”—she cocked her head toward the kitchen—“away from their own families,” Derpy replied.

“I think they all live alone. Except Pinkie.”

And Derpy grinned even bigger. “Well, good that we could share it with them, then. Happy Hearth’s Warming to you, too.”

Dinky snuggled in as a cheery blaze crackled in the fireplace and the stars twinkle-blinked on in the purple sky. Two unicorns, a pegasus, an earth pony, a donkey, and a griffin all enjoying each other’s company.

They would have no need to worry about windigoes tonight.

A Very Pinkie Hearth's Warming (for PartyPie)

It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, and the wind was blowing and the snow was falling, and a little filly dashed through the streets of Ponyville. Her name was Sweetie Belle, and she had a mane of vivid purple and brightest pink, and a coat of nearly-white fur. She wore, on her face, a very-nearly-a-frown, and there was panic in her eyes.

 

She muttered as she ran. “It’s not too late,” she said to herself over and over, as though repeating the words would make them come true. “It’s not too late, it’s not too late. Oh please don’t let it be too late, pleeease.”

 

“What’s not too late, Sweetie Belle?”

 

The voice reminded Sweetie of many different things: it was sunshine in the gloom, a flame in the cold. It was the voice of candy canes and of gingerbread houses, and of and twinkling lights hung upon the Hearth’s Warming tree. It was the last voice Sweetie had expected, and in her surprise she slipped in the snow, smack on her face! Thank Celestia the snow was thick that year – a humongous, freezing duvet spread over the streets of the little town.

 

Even so, Sweetie scowled as Pinkie Pie helped her back up – for of course it was Pinkie – and glared at her pink coat and pink hooves and pink mane. Even her words sounded pink.

 

“Are you late for a party?” Pinkie said. “A ‘bring-all-your-friends-’cause-it’s-going-to-be-awesome’ kind of party? A super-duper Hearth’s Warming spectacular?”

 

“No, Pinkie,” Sweetie snapped. “I’m not going to a party. Anyway, I don’t have time for this. I need to get to the shops.”

 

“Oooo, how fun!” said Pinkie, stepping into place behind the filly – or bouncing, rather, for not even the snowfall could chill her spirits. “Lemme guess: you’re in a race against time, looking a last minute Hearth’s Warming gift. Dashing, rushing, hurry, hasty! Oh, oh: but then you realise that you’re too late; then comes the terrible PANIC, the dreadful GUILT. And then, and then—”

 

“Pinkie, I’m not in the mood for this. I—”

 

Sweetie stopped in her tracks – it was as though hands of ice had burst from the snow and clasped her in place. “W-wait,” she said. “What do you mean I’m too late? It’s only four o’clock.”

 

Pinkie’s smile was too wide for Sweetie’s liking. It was the atomic bomb of smiles: darkness and misery were blown away in its presence, making it quite impossible, no matter how hard Sweetie Belle tried, to remain irritated with her. “Well, duh,” said Pinkie. “It’s Sunday, silly. The shops closed early this year.”  

 

Sweetie’s very-nearly-a-frown grew, grew, and grew, until any onlookers would have sworn that she was more frown than filly.

 

It was Hearth’s Warming Eve.

 

It was also the end of the world, the apocalypse, the rapture – most importantly of all, it was a Sunday.

 

Sunday!

 

How, oh how could she have forgotten that the shops shut early on Sunday? How could she have been so dull? So completely, outstandingly stupid?

 

A nudge on her shoulder: Sweetie glanced up, and was shocked to discover that she wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes. Where there had once been a city’s worth of smiles shining on Pinkie’s face, there was a frown. Where once endless sunshine had dazzled from behind the pink pony’s eyes, there lurked now various shades of midnight. and twilight. Pinkie shared in Sweetie’s misery – Pinkie Pie, who was laughter and joy in pony form! Pinkie Pie, who always smiled even when the days were darkest, the nights were longest!  Any lingering annoyance Sweetie felt was blown away on the wind. Misery brought them closer together. Misery made the two of them understand one another a little better than before.

 

And that, in its own way, was its own kind of joy.

 

They stood in silence for a while, two ponies alone in the snowy street, under streetlamps casting yellow light in the blue darkness. Sweetie pondered what to do next. So far as she could tell, there remained only one thing she could do, and that was to—

 

But surely there was something else?

 

There had to be something, something she could get for her older sister.

 

Make-up from her own bedroom? Yet what would a grown-up want with a filly’s make-up kit? What mare would be interested in children’s nail varnish, a foal’s eyeliner, and blusher for kids?

 

Perhaps she could make something for Rarity – a picture, maybe. Yet between carols at midnight and the school Hearth’s Warming play that evening at nine, there was no time, no time at all for drawing and colouring.

 

Fear feasted upon her melancholy, before mutating into desperation. “Pinkie!” she said, grabbing the mare by the shoulders. “You’ve got to help me! What should I do? It’s got to be something other than—”

 

“You should apologise,” Pinkie said with a shrug. “It’s what Rarity deserves.”

 

Sweetie gulped, pawing a hoof in the snow. “H-how d’you know the present was for Rarity?” she whispered, caught off-guard by the bluntness of Pinkie’s words. Had she been looking closer, then possibly she might have noticed that though Pinkie’s body was wrapped in the special gloom of Hearth’s Warming Eve, her face radiated with freshly discovered joy. Had Sweetie looked closer, she might have noticed that a plan was forming in the mare’s eyes…

 

Sweetie didn’t notice these things, however, and certainly didn’t question Pinkie as the mare led her through dark streets and down lonely alleyways. “Of course it’s Rarity’s pressie,” the mare said to Sweetie. “The way you cried just then? That was a sister-cry, and I know all about sister-cries – they’re the most especially special kind! You’re sooooo lucky to have a sister you care about enough to make you sad like that.”

 

“Not helping, Pinkie,” Sweetie said through gritted teeth as they cut through a park. “We need to think of an idea for a last minute present—”

 

“Why didn’t you get one before?”

 

The frankness, the bluntness! Arguments were worthless here: Sweetie wasn’t used to Pinkie Pie talking to her this way. “I… I um…”

 

“You’ve had alllll week to get one – I know, ’cause that’s how long you’ve been off school. Apple Bloom brought her sister the biggest, hugestest, most massivest apple pie that you ever saw, mmm! And Scootaloo! You should have seen the cake that she got for Dashie!”

 

“But that’s not fair,” Sweetie said as they trotted across town square then down another side-street. “I was busy all week!”

 

“Oh? You were?”

 

Had Sweetie looked closer, she might have seen the twinkle in Pinkie’s eyes.

 

Had Sweetie listened closer, she would have realised that, actually, Pinkie didn’t sound at all surprised by the news that she had been busy all week, and that she hadn’t had time to buy Rarity a present.

 

“Yeah, I was busy, OK? I get it already. I’m a horrible little pony.”

 

“Busy with what?” Pinkie said.

 

 “I… I had to practice for the play tonight. I’m Princess Platinum. I have songs and everything.”

 

“Hmmm, interesting, interesting. What else were you doing?”

 

“Well, I helped Scootaloo pick out the cake and then Apple Bloom with that pie. Can you believe that Scoots wanted to get Rainbow a book?! And Apple Bloom almost got AJ a cake with oranges in it. Oranges! ‘We want to try something new this year!’ they both said. But not that new. It took aaages to talk them out of it.”

 

“Uh-huh. What else?”

 

Sweetie glowered at Pinkie Pie, and her eyes began to water again.

 

What else?

 

What a question!

 

Why, there was so much ‘else’ that, now Sweetie thought of it, she scarcely knew where to begin. Yet she took a deep breath, and said, “I had extra magic lessons with Twilight, and you know what she’s like for giving out homework.”

 

“What else?”

 

“I, I helped Mom and Dad with the decorations. I visited my grandma in hospital – twice! – no, actually, it was three times, except she was asleep for one of them.”

 

“Uh-huh. What else?”

 

“Loads of family came to stay, I had to help get the house ready. I had to make up the spare room for one my cousins. We made cookies. We played games. Plus I was helping with looking after my niece ’cause she’s only one-year-old and she loves hanging out with me. Then I had tons and tons of cards to write. I’ve been wrapping presents. I’ve been sorting stuff out for Mom and Dad.”

 

“Have you seen Rarity this week?”

 

Sweetie’s cheeks burned in the gloom. There weren’t many streetlamps here in the wide fields and open lawns which lined the outskirts of Ponyville: in fact, they had walked all the way to a certain fashion boutique owned, managed, and lived in by a very special pony. An especially special pony. Sweetie Belle had never told anyone, but she considered herself to have two hearts: one which beat inside of herself, and a second which beat in the body of another – somepony to whom she felt closer than even her own parents.

 

She stopped three paces short of Rarity’s front door, hooves too numb from cold to continue – though it wasn’t the snow that chilled her. “N-not so much,” she admitted. “Even when I did, we didn’t speak to each other. There wasn’t time.”

 

“How d’you reckon she’ll act when you tell her how busy you’ve been? D’you think maybe she already knows, and has been telling all her friends about how amazingly-awesomely- super-duper-zuper proud she is of you?”

 

Before Sweetie knew what was happening, Pinkie grinned and slapped a Christmas bow on the filly’s head, and then made to ring the doorbell—

 

“WAIT!”

 

Sweetie’s cry enveloped them. It hung in the air like the softy drifting snowflakes. It froze Pinkie in her tracks, her hoof an inch from the buzzer.

 

Sweetie gulped again.

 

Shutting her eyes, she sighed and whispered, “If I’m going to do this, I should do it myself.”

 

With that, Pinkie nodded and stepped back from the door – bounced back from the door – allowing Sweetie to raise a trembling hoof to the bell.

 

She never got a chance to press it.

 

Right then, the door opened, washing the two ponies in golden light; and from the door emerged Rarity herself, who wrapped her forelegs tight, tight, so wonderfully, gloriously tight around Sweetie’s body. Fear was forgotten. All worries melted away, and the filly lost herself in the heavenly warmth of her sister’s embrace, silent tears streaming down her face and straining Rarity’s fur. Rarity didn’t mind. It didn’t matter to her that Sweetie was freezing and that her hooves were wet from the snow, and her coat soaking from the flakes falling from the dark, dark sky.

 

“Sweetie, darling,” Rarity whispered in her little sister’s ear, “I must confess: I heard you through the doorway.”

 

“I didn’t get you a present,” Sweetie sobbed into Rarity’s fur. “I’ve ruined Hearth’s Warming. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Sweetie Belle, listen to me, what I am about to say is highly important: you’ve ruined nothing. Nothing.”

 

“What about your present?”

 

Rarity considered this for a moment, then let go of her little sister and said, “You know what? A cup of tea would be quite, quite lovely right now. Yes: that will do, I think. I shall make it myself! Tea for the both of us: if only you’d keep me company?” Turning to Pinkie, she added, “And to our mutual friend who made this possible?”

 

But Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Aw, shucks,” she said. “This was all Sweetie, really. She just needed somepony to nudge her.”

 

“All the same, I insist that you join me later, for the play.”

 

And Pinkie nodded, and it was agreed: she would accompany Rarity, that evening, to the school Hearth’s Warming play.

 

There was a moment’s pause – a warm, chilly, snow-filled pause. Then the two sisters walked into the light, hoof in hoof, and the pink pony bounced away into the night.

 

It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, and the wind was blowing and the snow was falling.

 

All was well.

White Hearth's Warming (for DrakeyC)

White Hearth’s Warming
Sunset Shimmer, spending her first Hearth’s Warming in Canterlot as Princess Celestia’s personal student, is appalled to find that there’s not going to be any snow for the holiday.
She decides to do something about it.
*****

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly, the grass was green and springy underhoof, and the temperature was just brisk enough that a fashion-conscious pony could justify wearing a scarf, but not so cold that she couldn’t leave it behind at home if she decided that the print on it wasn’t quite as fetching as she’d imagined it was when she bought it. It was the sort of day about which no reasonable pony could possibly complain.

“Oh sweet Celestia, this weather is the worst!” cried Sunset Shimmer, smacking a hoof against the window in frustration.

“I’m right here, you know,” said Princess Celestia, a smile curling the corners of her lips. She joined her newest student at the window, looking out upon the city of Canterlot in all its sprawling glory. “There’s no need for such dramatics, I’m sure.”

Sunset was not mollified. “But look! There’s no snow, and Hearth’s Warming is tomorrow! How are we supposed to have a Hearth’s Warming with no snow?”

Celestia put a wing over Sunset’s back, guiding her gently away from the window and back toward the center of the castle chamber. “I have seen hundreds of Hearth’s Warmings, Sunset Shimmer, and I can assure you that a lack of cold has never once caused the holiday to be cancelled. In fact, in some of the southern parts of Equestria, it almost never snows for Hearth’s Warming, and ponies still—”

“I don’t care what they do in the south! There’s supposed to be snow on the ground for Hearth’s Warming! There’s always snow!”

Celestia’s face became more neutral, and Sunset sank into her wing, suddenly aware that the Princess was no longer humoring her. “Sunset, what three words have I asked you to stop using in my presence?”

“Idoncare”

“Sunset…”

“‘I don’t care.’ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I just…” Sunset looked down. “...I like the snow. And it should snow for Hearth’s Warming.” She scuffed a hoof. “It always snows for Hearth’s Warming.”

Celestia smiled again. “Perhaps it always has in your lifetime, my dear student, but I assure you that this will not be the first time I’ve seen the spires of Canterlot bare for the holidays. And speaking from experience?” She bent down, and looked Sunset in the eye. “Those years were no less special to me.”

Sunset nodded weakly. “Okay, Celestia,” she said in a voice that made it clear her doubts still lingered.

Celestia nodded back, then straightened and walked to the door. “I have business to attend to, but I would very much like to see you again this evening. Okay?”

Sunset nodded one more time, and Celestia opened the door. Pausing as she exited, she looked back to her student, her face already the opaque mask of neutrality mixed with maternal protectiveness which she invariably wore in court. “Oh, and Sunset? Until then, perhaps you might consider reflecting on the history of Hearth’s Warming.” A knowing grin peeked through the mask, just for a second. “I think you’ll find your concerns put at ease soon enough.” With that, she closed the door gently.

*****

‘Reflecting on the history of Hearth’s Warming’ might have struck some as a kindly way of brushing a pony off, but Sunset Shimmer knew better. She’d been the princess’s prize student for almost a year now, and she knew a test when she saw one. So the passage of an hour saw her hunched over a heavy oak table near the back of the royal library, head in a history book, as she looked for some clue as to what Celestia might have meant. Page after page flew by as she muttered to herself, trying to find something that would ‘put her concerns at ease.’

“Ah-HAH!” she cried triumphantly, leaping up on the table and dramatically planting her hoof in an illustration from the first Hearth’s Warming. At last, she knew exact—

“Shhh!” shushed a matronly librarian. Sunset bristled, but got down off the table and took her seat quietly.

“Ah, hah,” she whispered, gently setting her hoof on an illustration of the first Hearth’s Warming. At last, she knew exactly what Celestia had meant.

*****

The Explosive Runes Memorial Study Hall at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was a busy place, most of the year. At a school where hundreds of the most promising foals from across the land came to take some of the most academically rigorous courseloads available, studying was both an essential and frequent part of every student’s day.

Of course, there was no studying to be done on the day before Hearth’s Warming, but the Hall still saw some use. Although most students spent the winter break with their families, every year saw a few foals who, for one reason or another, were spending the holiday on-campus. Some were orphans; some simply came from so far away that a trip to and from the far reaches of Equestria was more trouble, or more costly, than it was worth. For these students, the Hall acted as a communal space, desks and study lamps pushed aside to make room for comfortable reading chairs, board games, and (when there weren’t any adults watching) the usual roughhousing that comes from sticking a dozen youth in an enclosed space. It wasn’t home, but it wasn’t the worst possible substitute, all things considered.

The main door to the Hall slammed open, and a moderately-chilly wind gusted in. The ponies in the hall looked up to see another foal standing ominously in the doorway. “Hey, it’s Sunset!” said one of them, oblivious to her aggressive stance. “Boy, I haven’t seen you since the Princess picked you to study with her! Are you here to—”

“Hello, losers,” sneered Sunset, and the pony recoiled. She stalked into the room, circling the students like a fuzzy red-maned shark. “I’m not gonna keep you all for long, but there are a few things I wanted to tell you.”

Without warning, she pounced in front of one of the foals. “Coral Shine!”

The filly in question flinched, then tentatively opened one eye to find Sunset’s face mere inches from her own. “Um… y-yes?”

Sunset’s grin somehow became even more predatory. “Well, I just thought you might want to know that Celestia’s been talking about you recently.”

Coral gasped, and her eyes glimmered with a mix of apprehension and hope. “R-really?” For all that the Princess maintained a hooves-off approach to her namesake school’s academics, every student dreamed of catching her eye.

“Really.” Sunset abruptly leaned back. “She said you’re the dumbest, most hopeless student she’s ever seen at this school. She told the dean you’d probably cheated on your entrance exam, since you’re too stupid to have possibly earned a spot here.”

Coral brought her hooves to her mouth, eyes already watering. Another student hurried to her side. “The Princess didn’t say that!” she cried. “You’re just making stuff up to make Coral feel bad. Sunset, what’s gotten into you?”

Sunset merely fluffed her hair. “Hey, who’s Celestia’s personal favorite student ever? Oh yeah, it’s me!” She shrugged. “Whatever, I just thought maybe Coral would want a heads-up so she could start packing. They’re probably gonna throw her out any day now. At least this way it won’t be a surprise, right?”

The other filly wasn’t deterred. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe that! The Princess is too nice to do that!”

Sunset rounded on her. “Oh yeah, Blue Belle? If she’s so nice, then how come she keeps all your letters from home?”

Blue Belle started to answer, but cut herself off as she processed what she’d just heard. “Bec—wait, what?”

“Oh yeah, of course!” Sunset shook her head sympathetically. “You told me you didn’t know why you’d only gotten two letters from home? It’s because Celestia’s been stealing your mail. She reads me the letters, and we laugh about how stupid and sappy they are, and then we burn them in the fireplace!” She patted Blue’s head. “Don’t worry, though. We sent your folks a postcard from you a few weeks ago that said you hated them and never wanted to see them again. We were getting soo tired of all those letters asking why you never wrote. That ought to slow them down, don’t you think?”

Blue gaped. “Why would you…”

“Because,” Sunset said, “Me and the Princess are better than you. She’s teaching me how to treat the peons beneath my hooves, and there’s no better example of worthless ponies than you lot.”

She turned to a new pony. “Largo? We have a bet on why you’re so fat. I say you eat too much because it helps you forget that nopony loves you. Celestia thinks it’s because you’re just too weak to not keep stuffing your face.” She turned again. “Ludvig? That stupid foreign food you eat makes you smell. That’s why you’re assigned seat is always in the back of the class; nopony wants to be downwind of you!” Another turn. “And you, Berry Puree?” She leaned forward eagerly. “Do you remember that time you tripped and fell down the stairs, right in front of the colt you had a crush on?” The filly cowered as Sunset cackled viciously. “It was me, Berry! IT WAS MEEE!”

Throwing back her head as she cackled in triumph, Sunset trotted gleefully back to the open door. She paused there a moment, looking out at the sunny skies, and then back at the foals, now huddled together in the center of the room. They stared at her; some with tears running down their cheeks, others seething with barely-contained rage. She lifted a hoof to her chin.

“Oh right, there was one more thing.” She cleared her throat, as though preparing to read a statement. “The only reason any of you are here instead of at home is because your parents hate you. Or they’re dead.”

With that, she slammed the door behind her, and returned her gaze the the sky. “COME ON, WINDIGOES!” she cried, “BRING ON THE SNOW!” Then, she hurried down the street; there was still a lot of hatred to spread, if she was going to save Hearth’s Warming.

*****

Celestia loomed menacingly over Sunset Shimmer.

Sunset Shimmer spread her legs and stood her ground.

After a tense moment, Celestia sighed and took a seat. Sunset remained standing. “Sunset,” Celestia said, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a hoof. “Would you care to tell me why I’m returning from court to find that you’ve been restricted to my chamber ‘for your own good?’”

“You already asked the guard,” Sunset said, unable to keep the pout from her voice even as she continued to glare. “Why don’t you tell me what he said?”

Celestia sighed again, but didn’t argue. “According to him, you’ve been spending the afternoon running around town, insulting everypony you met. He tells me he literally followed a path of crying fillies and colts to find you, before taking you here.” She pursed her lips. “He also tells me that you told him, and I’m quoting, that ‘you should enjoy you power trip while he can, because when I become princess I’m going to confiscate your house, throw your family in the dungeon, and laugh as I watch you beg for bits on the street like the dirty mule you are.’”

Sunset didn’t flinch. “I don’t care if it’s rude, mules are dirty.”

“What three words have I—”

“I DON’T CARE!” Sunset cried. “I don’t care, Celesta! I did exactly what you asked, and what happened? I got picked up by the scruff of my neck and sent to teacher’s room like a little foal! What was this supposed to teach me, Celestia? Huh? What?”

Celestia shook her head. “Sunset, what do you think I was trying to teach you?”

“You said I should study Hearth’s Warming, so I could fix this stupid weather,” Sunset said. Her eyes started to water, but she soldiered on. “You said if I did, I’d figure out how to make everything better. And I did!” She sniffed. “But even though I tried to make everypony really mad, the windigos never came. And then your stupid guard locked me in here.”

Celestia stood, then slowly trotted to the window. “Sunset,” she began, peeking between the drawn curtains and peering outside, “Do you really think that I would want you to spread anger and sadness across the city? Do you truly believe that that is what I intended for you to learn?”

Sunset grimaced. “I did what—”

“You did what you wanted to, without regard for others,” Celestia finished for her. “If you had studied the meaning of the first Hearth’s Warming, and not just its events, you would have learned something rather different. You would have learned, just as Smart Cookie, Private Pansy, and Clover the Clever did, that true power doesn’t come from making demands or riding roughshod over anypony who is in your way. True power comes from a kinder, more beautiful place.” Turning face her student, she said. “Come here, Sunset, and look out over Canterlot.”

Cringing, Sunset trotted up to the window, and pushed aside the curtains. Then, she gasped. “It can’t… it’s…

“Snowing.”

Outside, teams of pegasi pushed cloud after cloud into place, forming a wispy grey ceiling over the city. As they were moved into place, others began coaxing snow out of them—only a few flurries, but more all the time. Already, the spires of Canterlot were dusted with white.

“It won’t be much, just a half-inch or so. Still, it seems we’ll have a white Hearth’s Warming after all,” Celestia observed.

Sunset gaped. “Did you do this?” When Celestia nodded, she broke out into a happy grin. “You did it. You ordered all those—”

“I asked them, Sunset,” Celestia gently interrupted. She gestured to the window. “Every pony out there is a volunteer, working together to bring a bit of snow to Canterlot. Not just for you, but for all the ponies who dream of a white Hearth’s Warming.” Celestia wrapped her wing around Sunset. “This is the lesson I want you to learn: that when ponies work together in friendship and harmony, there is nothing they cannot do.”

Sunset snuggled against the princess, never taking her eyes off the window. “So… if I act nice, ponies will do what I want without me having to order them around?”

Celestia opened her mouth, then closed it again. After a long moment, she smiled. “I suppose that’s close enough for now.” She gazed out the window with Sunset. “You still have much to learn, my dear student, but I have no doubt that you will go on to great things one day.” Together, the two of them watched the snowfall.

*****

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful night. The moon glowed silver behind a thin sheen of clouds, the snow was clean and white upon the rooftops, and the temperature was just brisk enough for a pony to feel properly grateful to be sitting inside by a roaring fire, without being so cold that she’d actually feel concerned about the prospect of having to make a trip to the shed to get more wood. It was the sort of night about which no reasonable pony could possibly complain.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, my dear student,” murmured Princess Celestia, as she wrapped a blanket around Sunset Shimmer, who was curled up by the fire.

Sunset didn’t reply. She was already fast asleep.

At Least There Was Good Coffee (for Chris)

At Least There Was Good Coffee

“Oh, darling!” Filthy Rich peeked his head out of their bedroom doorway. Hearthswarming was approaching swiftly, and it was his favorite time of year. “Could you come here for a second?”

He'd spent the past hour wrapping three piles of gifts. There was, of course, the pile for the help, which was one of the reasons he did the wrapping himself (the other being that part of him really enjoyed it… after all, keeping true to your roots was important). The next pile was for his lovely wife, including a portrait commissioned from one of Moneigh’s finest pupils. And then finally, Diamond Tiara’s pile. The largest, because after all, wasn't Hearthswarming truly about the children?

Spoiled put down that month's gossip rag (it was all about Silver Screen’s alleged affair again anyway) and made her way down the hall. “What is iiiiooooh, presents!” She made a line right for the biggest pile. “Fil, darling. You really shouldn't h--” She looked from the largest pile to what she now realized was her own. “Oh. You're really running out of time to finish your shopping, Filthy. I mean, really.” And with that, she left the room.

And Filthy Rich decided something needed to be done.

---

“March! Call for you!”

March Gustysnows looked up from her coffee and newspaper. This was usually her time to relax in the morning before her shift started. But with the holidays coming up… well, these things happened. “Aw, come on. Take a message. I'm trying to have my coffee.”

“Uh, Chief. It's the princess for ya, though. She says it's important.”

March sighed. On the one hoof, it was undoubtedly the Conifer twins pulling a prank as always. But on the other hoof, she had gotten calls from Canterlot before. Well, one call. For that big to-do that one time. “Yeah, Loop. Tell her hold on. I'll be there in a sec.”

She stood up and stretched her hinds, then left her office. She swore, if it was those boys, she'd put them in a cell for the night, and if their parents complained, there would be an empty cell right next to it.

She strolled out and grabbed the phone. “Hello. Chief Gustysnows here.”

On the other end, there was a mare whose voice she could just barely place. “Oh, good, you picked up. I know this is silly, but I just don’t trust these phones. But, well, Princess Celestia said it was time to embrace the future!”

Oh. Oh, no. She knew that voice. Why couldn't it have been a Conifer boy? “Ohhh, Princess Twilight. A Happy Hearthswarming to you.”

Twilight started going on about the summit that passed. And then dropped a bombshell. She needed to sign a form.

“Uh huh. Yep. Yep… Paperwork, huh?” She huffed. “Well, you could just mail it.”

“Oh, no. That just won't due, really. Mail is just so slow this time of year…”

Of course. “I suppose there is a delay with the holidays. Tomorrow is Hearthswarming Eve Day, don’tcha know.”

Twilight was relentless.

“Hm. Well, if it's that important. Alright then. I'll take the first train out. Yep. Okay now. Bye.” March hung up the phone and sighed.

“Headin’ outta town then, March?”

“Yeah, Loop. Going to Ponyville. Summoned by the new Princess. Follow-up on the Summit.” She tugged her hat onto her head. “Can ya hold down the fort? I've gotta say goodbye to Morn then hop on the train.”

“You're darn tootin’. The station is in good hooves, March. You have a safe trip, yeah?”

“Here's hopin’. Quiet and quick. Gotta be home in time for Hearthswarming, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Well.” And she headed out into the snow.

---

“Thank you sooooooo much for coming on such short notice. How was your train ride?” Before March could even answer, Twilight was floating a piece of parchment in front of her. “Just a follow-up on how satisfied you were with the summit and a confirmation of receipt of apology for the incident that happened with my assistant.”

March Gustysnows bit the inside of her cheek. This seemed like the opposite of important. “Really. And this needed to be done now?”

Twilight gave a curt nod, dipping a quill. “Mm. Forms are due before the New Year. Well. That's not true. I just like to have them all together by then so I can ship them out. A good month’s leeway. You know what they say about organization.”

“Yeah. Can't say that I do there, Princess. I really do think this could have been mailed, don'tcha know?”

“The delegate from Manehattan said the same thing! Can you believe it? Well, he said a lot of things, actually.” Twilight Sparkle’s cheeks went a bit red. “Plenty of things I don't feel comfortable repeating. So, looks like I might miss my deadline anyway.”

March was about to answer when the front door of the castle slammed open. “Help! Help! They took everything!”

“Diamond Tiara? What happened! Who took what?” The quill fell to the floor and Twilight was wide-eyed with alarm. March was confused and concerned.

“You have to help! Our presents! They're all gone!” Tears were welling up in the filly’s eyes. “And all our decorations too!”

In a literal flash, Twilight teleported to a bookshelf, pulling down a book. “I bet it was a krampus… or no, wait, grinches! No, could it be…?” She gasped. “Windigoes?”

Diamond Tiara’s tears were held back by her sudden confounding. “What? No. I think it was just… some ponies…”

And Twilight was at another shelf. “Probably under the influence of the amulet of humbuggery. Or…” She opened a green and red tome. “The Cult of Coal. I didn't think they didn't get much further east of the mineral plains.

“I… I think it was just… normal ponies, Princess Twilight. Just… thieves!” Diamond Tiara looked to the stranger for support.

“Well. Why did you come here?” Twilight was perplexed.

“Well. The mayor’s office is closed, and we don't even… have a police station, do we? I mean, you and the others solve everything, right? Especially since that superhero vanished. You beat Discord, I think. And that weird magician. Oh! And that really big guy who blew up the library! So, you can catch some thieves, right?”

They didn't have police here? This town… March Gustysnows was baffled. Darn baffled.

Twilight looked nervous and her small laugh made that obvious. “Well. Yes. But those were Element problems. I mean, if there's a big magic issue… but… and… besides, um. Well. Applejack and Pinkie went to visit the Pie farm. Rarity and Rainbow Dash went to the Wonderbolts on Ice show in Manehattan together. And Fluttershy. Um. Well. My Hearthswarming gift to her is to not bother her with any problems that are less than town-threatening. So… um.”

She couldn't stay silent any longer. “You aren't serious, yeah? I'm really calling into question your whole idea of policing the town, Princess. You could really use some actual law enforcement here to, ya know. Enforce the law, yeah?”

Twilight perked up and suddenly grabbed March in a tight hug. “Thank you thank you thank you! We're really in a pinch and it's so nice of you to offer to help out! You're right! Who's better suited after all.”

March blanched. “That wasn't what… oh, of course. It's nothing, really. Let's get those presents back, yeah?” What had she gotten herself into…

---

Filthy Rich was shaking with fear and anger as he picked up the phone in his office, door closed and locked. This was definitely a private conversation.

After two rings, the other end picked up. “Hello hello! Flim and Flam’s Stupendous Emporium of Wondrous Wonderful Devices, Panaceas, Cure-Alls and Novelties to Improve and Better Your Life, how can we fix you today?”

“Can it! What happened? The instructions were very clear. You break in and make off with my wife’s gifts, and that's it! You took everything!”

“Why, Mr. Rich! You seem upset. I can't imagine why. We took your plan and dolled it up a bit, making a ten-fold better humdinger of a plan.”

A voice popped up in the background. “Truly and surely, most certainly 200% better.”

“I have you on speaker, by the way. But like I was saying… it's not a very convincing burglary if only one set of things is taken! Why we did you a favor, Mr. Rich!”

Filthy couldn't argue with that logic. And so he didn't.

“Now… about the pricing change!”

“Pricing change? We agreed on ten thousand bits!” Filthy Rich slammed the desk with his hoof.

“And we agreed to only take your wife’s gifts. But we did so much extra work, Mr. Rich! Surely it wouldn't be fair for our extra effort to go uncompensated. I think another ten grand will suffice. What do you think, brother of mine?”

“Ten grand? Sounds grand! Then we'll hand everything over as planned. Guaranteed!”

“That's twenty grand! Everything you took already cost me fifty.”

There was a brief silence on the phone before Flim broke it again. “Oh.”

Flam. “Well that changes everything!”

Flim again. “We had no idea we were dealing with such high-end goods! That's a whole other matter altogether. Isn't it, Flam?”

“Altogether different, for sure. You really should have signed up for our luxury service, then.”

“You charlatans! This is extortion!”

Flim audibly balked. “Extortion? Filthy. Can I call you Filthy? This isn't extortion. This is business. And we are all businessponies, are we not?”

Flam. “Certified and registered.”

“It's only a little more, anyway. Surely you can afford it. And the benefits are well worth the price.”

Filthy gritted his teeth. “The price being?”

“Oh! Well, just a paltry sum, really.”

“Insignificant!”

“Barely there!”

“A fly speck!”

“Couch change!”

“How much!” Filthy yelled, his eyelid twitching.

“Goodness, Filthy. There's no need for all that! You're new total is… twenty-siii--”

“Seven!”

“--even thou--”

“Five!”

“Five. Sorry. I'm looking at an outdated price chart here. We really need to have a word with our secretary.”

“A talking to.”

Filthy cut off the back and forth before it could build up steam again. “This is outrageous. Fine! But we need to act quick. The cops are involved.”

Flim let out a laugh. “The police? Well now! When did our favorite little town get law enforcement? Come on now, Mr. Rich! You can't pull one over on us.”

“I mean it. My daughter… overreacted to the gifts being gone. She just got back and said the police were handling it.”

“Poppycock!”

“Balderdash!”

“Nonsense! We know every jurisdiction in the area and we've never had a problem besides some local farmers! We'll be fine and dandy! They're not even here! Now, we simply must skedaddle. Last minute inventory checks. You know how that goes. See you tonight!”

Filthy Rich was stunned as the call cut off, returning the phone to its place and shaking his head as he opened his safe.

--

March was at a loss. Police work usually came so easy to her. Especially smalltown stuff. But this wasn't her town. And these weren't her ponies. Back home, if someone's mailbox was knocked over or hedges uprooted, you'd go right on down to the Conifers. Someone’s got a few bits missing? They probably were just at Dahlia’s diner and the busboy shortchanged them. You know, the usual. But she didn't know who the Ponyville criminal element was. According to Princess Twilight, there was an ancient god of chaos in residence… but as far as she knew, he didn't even know the Riches, this wasn't even his style, and interrogating him would involve interrupting Fluttershy, which was just right out if the question. And beyond him, there wasn't really anyone who fit the bill besides a couple of colts. But this was way too darn big a job for a couple little colts, to be sure.

At least the coffee here was good. March was on her second cup and making her way through an apple walnut muffin in Sugarcube Corner. An odd dinner choice, but most places were closed.

The bell above the door chimed again, which March didn't pay much attention to. But the hoofsteps stopped and then started again, making a straight shot for her. “Um, hello. This might sound weird, but are you a cop?”

March looked up from her muffin and was face-to-face with a yellow mare with a curly orange mane. “Yes ma’am. Well, not for here. I'm just visiting from Fargoat. Near Whinneapolis, don't you know.”

The mare looked a bit crestfallen. “So if I were having a problem…”

March perked up. “Oh. Well if I can help ya out with something, I would be happy to. Now what's the problem? If I can't handle it, there is the princess after all.”

“Princess? But Canterlot is kind of a hike just to report some suspicious stallions. Plus I could just talk to the guards there.”

“Oh, no. I mean the princess in town?”

The mare paused, looking like the gears in her head were spinning. Suddenly, a light bulb went off. “Oh! The librarian! I keep forgetting she got wings! I mean, I suppose I could go to her…” She paused.

From her brief time knowing Twilight, March understood the hesitation. “Why don'tcha tell me about these stallions, Miss…?”

“Oh! Golden Harvest. But anyway. Yeah. A few years back some stallions came along selling this really terrible cider and tried to take over Sweet Apple Acres or something. I don't know. I wasn't there for most of it… but they got run out of town. They came back later selling some magical miracle tonic, I think. But I think that was fake, and they got run off again…”

“Has anyone reported them to a bureau for fraud or anything?”

Golden Harvest went wide-eyed. “We can do that?”

“Darn tootin’ you can. Did you not know that?”

“Well, usually problems just get run out of town or Twilight and her friends blast them with a rainbow. Then Pinkie Pie throws everyone a big party.”

March Gustysnows stared in disbelief. “So… these stallions.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah! I was at the spa getting my mane done for a Hearthswarming party. What are you doing so far from home on Hearthswarming Eve eve by the way? Do you have family here?”

“Long story…” Not that it was, really, but March was steamed about it still.

“Oh, well, anyway, they were in there. I didn't see them, but I'd recognize the voices anywhere.”

“Well, then I'm going to check in with the princess and then make my way over there right after. I'll take care of that there then.”

Golden Harvest gave a smile. “Thanks! And Happy Hearthswarming! Oh, and Happy New Year too!”

“You too!” March finished her coffee and left a tip for the lanky yellow stallion behind the counter, then went to go check in.

--

Filthy Rich was in even more of a panic as he called the number again.

“Yello! You have reached Flim a--”

“No! Look. Listen. I was telling the truth. I was just talking to the princess. She was calling, asking about the missing gifts, then I heard another pony walk in and ask about a couple scam artist stallions!”

“Well, she certainly got the artist part right, at least. But come on now, Filthy. The princess?”

“Ridiculous!” Flam piped up.

“As if Celestia would concern herself with a few missing gifts. What's your angle here, Mr. Rich?”

“Not Celestia! The princess here in Ponyville. Twilight Sparkle!”

“We... don't know who that is.”

“Not a clue.”

Filthy facehoofed, then rubbed his muzzle. That smarted. “Did you two miss the big crystal  monstrosity in town?”

One of them spoke. Filthy couldn't tell who at that point. “That crystal shop?”

“I thought chandeliers.”

“Maybe glassware?”

“It's the palace of the princess of friendship! You buffoons! She has a… a… I don't know. A task force and they know you did it! I got off the phone before she could even ask me about you. We need to make this exchange now. Maybe you didn't notice, but we've got a big storm coming!” Filthy Rich hung up the phone.

“Flam?”

“Yes, Flim?”

“We might be in trouble.”

Flam paced, eyeing the pile of gifts, then took a look outside. “He wasn't kidding about that storm. Snow is really coming down out there. Might get up to our axles soon.”

--

“So, you two said they were definitely in here?” March has a notepad out as she talked to the spa employees, a pair of color-swapped twins. Aloe and Lotus. Though admittedly, she didn't recall which one was which already.

“Oh, definitely. They wanted hooficures. The luxury package.” The blue one revealed. March decided that she was Aloe.

Therefore, it was Lotus who spoke up to add, “And mustache waxes. They kept excitedly talking about how the could afford them.”

“They hit pay dirt.”

“Big time.”

“The mother lode.”

“Riches.”

“Filthy riches.” The two mares laughed at that.

March stopped writing. “And why is that funny, exactly?”

“Oh, I don't know,” said probably-Aloe.

“It's just funny, I guess.” Lotus. Probably.

“They said it funny.”

March felt her brow scrunch up. “Funny how?”

“You know, just funny. They thought it was really hilarious.”

“It was like watching a comedy act, really.”

March nodded. “And did they say anything else funny?”

“Hmm, no. Not really. I mean, well, jokes. But those weren't as funny as they seemed to think.”

“You know…” The pink one laughed. “They did invite us to their… I don't know what they called it.”

“Mobile superstore.”

“That's it. For dinner and a drink.”

March raised an eyebrow. “And that was funny?”

“Goodness yes! I think they're like… twice our age! And those mustaches!”

“Plus, the weather pegasi already started a huge snowstorm for Hearthswarming. We're not trudging through all that. All the way to the apple farm?”

March pulled a curtain back. Wimps, the whole town. It was early autumn weather outside where she was from. “Can ya describe them, please?”

--

Flim hung up the phone and stared at his brother in horror. He'd just gotten off the phone with Filthy Rich… who was totally snowed in. “We're really painted into a corner, Flam.”

“Between a rock and a hard place.”

Flim hopped into the driver's seat. “We need to get out of here immediately. We're not getting arrested. There's already that warrant in Griffonstone.”

“Can't forget Appleloosa…”

Flim turned the ignition and started to drive… except they didn't go anywhere, tires spinning in the snow.

Flam hopped out and went behind the vehicle. “You're just kickin’ up mud and snow, brother! We're stuck.”

“What do you mean stuck?! Put down some of our quickmelt!”

Flam scowled. “It doesn't work! It's just salt. Dyed red. Why didn't you add a plow like I said we should?”

“That wouldn't help our back wheels!” Flim yelled. Things have taken a serious turn. “We’re going to jail… or a dungeon!”

Flam stared off between some dead trees in the adjoining plot. “No we aren't. Take the bits and bury them. I have a plan, brother dear. There can't be any jail time if there was never any crime.”

--

March tugged her coat closed tighter and stepped through the deep snow. Maybe they weren't wimps after all. These dirt roads were a mess and outside the town proper everything was a blanket of white. But then she saw the trees. Hundreds of them. This should be nice and easy. They wouldn't even know she was coming… but how would she find them?

Minutes later, she heard it. A loud roar over the gust of the wind. A motor running. A familiar sound, actually. But she couldn't place it. But at least she had a direction to go.

The snow kicked up, snow blowing in her face. She put a hoof in front of her face and kept walking, trudging…

The wind died down enough to see.

A wood chipper.

And March began to sprint. She saw a tall thin stallion loading boxes into the machine, the metal teeth grinding them up and spitting out scraps. “Stop! Don't do it! You don't have to do this!”

Flam looked up, startled… and fed the last thing into the chipper… Mrs. Spoiled Rich torn to shreds of splintered frame, paint, and parchment.

Just as Flim emerged with a shovel. “Well, that's done wi--”

Flam jumped back from the chipper and looked to his twin. “Split up! She's not going to nab both of us!” And they both took off.

--

Five minutes later they were cuffed together, and March Gustysnows led them by the length of chain between them.

“Why did ya do it? Huh? Why did ya go and ruin a family’s Hearthswarming? I'm just… I'm so… I can't believe it. I'm darned mad. Was this for money? Just for some bits? And look where that got you. Arrested. And now that family doesn't have their holiday the way they wanted. And I'm stuck all the way out here. The middle of the evening, draggin’ in two two-bit con men.” Up ahead was Twilight’s home. She brought them to the door and knocked. “You're going to face the family yourself.”

Twilight opened the door, the Rich family just inside. “Come in, come in… the Riches have been worried sick. Filthy has been pacing a trench in the floor.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle.

“Well. I got ‘em. But the bad news is, well, don'tcha know it… well… all your stuff, well. It's just. There's no easy way to say it, but all your gifts were destroyed.”

Filthy bolted upright and stiff. “Destroyed? You… you destroyed them?” He rushed ahead and grabbed Flim by the shirt collar. “Why would you destroy them? You… that wasn't…”

Spoiled furrowed her brow. “Fil…?”

Diamond Tiara stared. “Dad?”

Oh jeez. March gawked. “You… you knew. You knew they took it all.”

Twilight Sparkle gasped.

“I… I… what? Why would I do--”

Flim perked up. “To teach his wife a lesson!”

Flam smirked. “A holiday lesson in humble humility!”

Filthy stammered as his wife stared daggers at him. “Just to make you appreciate… it… more… I guess.”

Spoiled turned her back on him. “Unbelievable.”

March paused… “So… then… what am I doing here? You're in on this too. But… it was your stuff that got stolen. So. You're free to go. Looks like your family has some words for you anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “And them?”

“Well, if he's free to go… no harm!”

“No foul!”

Filthy went wide-eyed. “You took my stuff and half the payment! I'm pressing charges!”

Twilight sighed. “I can handle it from here. Spike! I need a letter sent to the palace guards!” She left the room to find her assistant.

And March? Well… she just hoped she could get the first train in the morning.

--

The next afternoon she was home, just in time to exchange gifts at work. Loop got her a new mug. What a peach. And then it was time to go home for real. Home home. With Morn and their foal. It was his first Hearthswarming.

She pushed open the door, carrying saddlebags filled to the gills with Zap Apple Jam and fine Saddle Arabian coffee. A thank you from the Riches for having to deal with that… whole hullabaloo. Ah well. She couldn't really complain. Everything turned out fine. “Morn! I'm back! Where are ya?”

She heard him from the next room. “Alright. I'll let her know. Happy Hearthswarming.” He hung up. “There's my girl. So. That was the Princess again. She said the two crooks are in Canterlot lock-up. What all did you get up to over east anyway? You were supposed to be signing a form, weren’tcha?”

“Oof. Morn. I need to go take a hot bath and have a sandwich, then I'll tell ya all about it.”

“Oh, and she said she's mailing the form over this way after Hearthswarming since you didn't actually get to sign it.”

March froze in place. Then shrugged off her saddlebags and headed for the bath. She might forget to mail it back for a while. She might just do exactly that. For sure.

How the Half-Naked Santa Saved Christmas (for Majin Syeekoh)

Adagio fingered her wine glass. “So, Pinkamena—are you a virgin?”

Sunset choked on her pizza. Rarity and Fluttershy’s cheeks burst into flames.

Pinkie Pie giggled. “Yepperoni! Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Adagio said, adjusting her lingerie top. She smirked as the straps slid down her arms and inched a bit closer to Pinkie, who went stiff. Trailing a finger along Pinkie’s thigh, she said, “Just thinking of ways I could make this slumber party a bit more interesting... ach!” Adagio flinched away as Sunset spritzed her with a water bottle marked ‘Friendship Spray.’

“Bad siren,” Sunset scolded, continuing until Adagio scrambled back to her spot. “If I see even one more inch of skin, you’re losing your alcohol privileges for a week.”

Adagio slumped into her beanbag and glowered. “Ugh, you worthless humans are no fun—stop spraying me!”

Rarity and Fluttershy chuckled, while Pinkie just relaxed and let a small smile cross her lips. Once five seconds had passed without Adagio swearing or trying to get someone naked, Sunset put the spray bottle down.

“Y’know,” Sunset said, picking her pizza back up, “if you want me to ditch the Friendship Spray you could at least try to act like a good guy.”

“But I am trying!” Adagio said, placing a hand over her heart and fluttering her eyelashes. “Two months ago, I would have waited until you were all asleep, then snuck into the basement and started a gas leak. Now look at me; I’ve been here for three hours, and I’ve only threatened to slit Fluttershy’s throat once!”

Fluttershy hid behind her hair. “I, um, would kind of prefer that you maybe not threaten me at all...”

“Good for you, Fluttershy.” Adagio sipped her wine and nodded. “Keep chasing that dream.”

As the others all rolled their eyes and returned to chattering, Adagio leaned back and surveyed Pinkie’s bedroom. It was horrendously girly; massive pink hearts covered every surface, entire tribes of stuffed animals sat perched on high shelves, and everything reeked of cake frosting. Then again, Pinkie Pie’s entire life seemed to reek of cake frosting.

It had been two months since the Battle of the Bands, and one month since the Rainbooms had found the Dazzlings sleeping in an alley downtown. Cold, wet, and hungry, the Dazzlings had been more than ready to prove their worth and demonstrate they were ready to be redeemed.

Since then, though, things had fallen apart a bit. The sirens were “abrasive and rude,” they had been arrested for petty theft on more than one occasion—and then, of course, there had been the Sleepover Incident, where Sonata and Adagio held down Applejack and Rainbow so Aria could strangle them both to death.

But that was three weeks ago, and since then, a new rule had been established: one siren per sleepover. Tonight was Adagio’s turn, and aside from her refusal to wear any pajamas that weren’t ninety percent see-through, things were going swimmingly. Applejack and Rainbow had both decided not to attend, however; they didn’t specify why.

Adagio sighed and swirled her wine in its glass. After the Incident, Sunset had made the three sirens pledge that by the time Hearth’s Warming rolled around, they would be completely rehabilitated. Well, Hearth’s Warming was now only a week away, but rehabilitation still seemed a long time coming.

Adagio really was trying her best to be good, but it was hard! She couldn’t make threats, or set buildings on fire—nothing. How could anyone live like that? How could she? What was Adagio’s motivation?

She looked up, only to find Pinkie Pie staring at her with those shining blue eyes.

The air left Adagio’s lungs for a moment, but soon enough she shot back a grin. “What?” she asked. “Thinking about taking me up on my offer?”

“Not really,” Pinkie said, shaking her head. “Just thinking about how super-happy I am to have you here. Making new friends is the best thing in the whole universe, right?”

Adagio shrugged. “I suppose. Not as fun as kicking puppies, though.” Fluttershy gasped again, and Adagio muttered, “Oh, calm yourself, Wallflower. I’m kidding. Probably.”

“I should hope so,” Rarity said, raising a brow. “We have orders from Princess Twilight to reform you, but I’m not sure how she would feel about animal abusers. You know, considering her race and all.”

Adagio simpered. “Is that a threat, darling?”

Rarity turned up her nose and supped at her tea. “A warning.”

“Come on girls, there’s no arguing at sleepovers!” Pinkie said.

“Absolutely.” Adagio slithered back over to Pinkie and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She sighed, pressing her chest against Pinkie’s side. “At least one of you knows how to appreciate the love of a beautiful woman.”

For the first time since the sleepover started, Pinkie’s smile disappeared. “Uhm,” she muttered, squirming in her seat and running her eyes down Adagio’s exposed skin. Cheeks red, she slipped out from Adagio’s grasp and hurried to the doorway. “Sorry, bathroom!”

Adagio watched her go, lips bending into a frown.

Across the room, Sunset snickered. “Wow,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone make Pinkie uncomfortable.”

“She’s not uncomfortable,” Adagio said, narrowing her eyes. “She just had to use the bathroom. You know, for a supposed ‘friendship expert,’ you’re quite bad at listening.”

“Really, Sunset, let them be.” Rarity tittered from behind her tea cup. “It’s not often that we get to see true love blossom before our eyes.”

Adagio sneered. “Oh, please. Do you really think that I, Adagio, Mistress of the Melody, Queen of the Sirens, would ever fall in love with a mere human? Especially one as obnoxious as Pinkamena?”

Rarity, Fluttershy, and Sunset all nodded. “It’s quite cute,” Rarity added.

Adagio glared for a second more before looking away. “I’m just playing with her. Teasing her, if you will. After all, it certainly gets a rise out of you lot. You humans are such prudes; someone needs to teach you to lighten up, and it may as well be me.”

“Whatever you say,” Rarity sang. “Personally, methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“Hmph. You humans and your ‘romance,’” Adagio said, shaking her head. “Pathetic.”

Pinkie Pie burst back into the room, carrying two forests’ worth of colored paper and stationery supplies. “Hey!” she yipped, throwing the piles of letters and envelopes on the floor in front of her friends. “I was thinking about fun things we could do before bed, and guess what I thought of!”

Fluttershy grabbed a sheet of paper and pair of scissors, then snipped out a quick pattern. “Paper angels?” she asked, stretching out the paper.

Adagio did the same, cutting the paper into the shape of playing cards. She dealt them out. “Strip poker.”

“Nope!” Pinkie said, sliding across the floor on her knees and pulling them both into a hug. She thrashed her head about, spraying dozens of pencils and crayons from her hair. As they tumbled to the floor, she tossed an envelope to each of her friends. “We’re gonna write letters to Santa Hooves!”

Every face went blank. Sunset blinked a few times before asking, “Santa?”

“I already wrote my letter, and I’m sure most of you have.” Pinkie passed Adagio a pencil. “But this is Adagio’s first Hearth’s Warming off the Naughty List, and she needs to let Santa know what she wants!”

Adagio took the pencil and stared at it. “I don’t follow.”

Rarity, Sunset, and Fluttershy all exchanged glances. “Ah, Pinkie, darling,” Rarity said, wincing. “Are you quite serious about this?”

“Yeah, like, you’re not joking?” Sunset asked.

“Of course not. Santa’s a busy man—he’s got no time for jokes!” Pinkie said, her smile fading into a serious glower. Within a second, though, she had returned to her normal chipper demeanor. “Which is too bad. He’s got such a funny laugh!”

“Oh, of course,” Fluttershy said, flashing a too-wide grin. “It’s just that, um...”

Adagio examined her nails. “I was under the impression Santa was a commercial entity designed to sell expensive toys to fat children—agh!”

As Adagio leaped across the floor to slap the spray bottle from Sunset’s hand, Pinkie’s face darkened. “Wait,” she said, furrowing her brows. She looked at her friends. “You guys do believe in Santa, right?”

They exchanged another glance. “Uh...”

Pinkie gasped. “Oh no, no, no—girls, this is bad! You have to believe in Santa! You have to, or else you won’t get any presents!”

“I’m not quite sure that's how it works,” Sunset said.

Rarity reached over and laid her hand on Pinkie’s knee. “I’m sorry, dear. We thought you knew! I mean, most people stop believing in him around the time they turn ten—”

“So you’re saying Pinkamena’s as smart as a ten-year-old?” Adagio asked with a smirk. Pinkie’s entire body drooped.

“Adagio, stop it,” Sunset snapped. She turned to Pinkie. “Sorry, Pinks. Santa just isn’t our thing.”

Pinkie sighed, slouching in her seat. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Adagio snorted. With a defiant flip of her hair, she wrapped an arm around Pinkie’s waist and pulled her close once again. “It’s quite alright, Pinkamena. Unlike your ‘friends’ here, I believe in Santa with all my heart.”

“But, wait,” Fluttershy said, raising a hesitant finger. “Aren’t you the one who said—”

“I was merely repeating what I’ve heard from you humans,” Adagio said, spitting out the last word like mud. “If Pinkamena says this Santa character is real, then it must be true. And besides: I’m a sea creature who controls teenagers through pop music. You’re a bunch of half-human half-horse wizards. Who says there can’t be a fat man in a sled speeding around the sky somewhere?”

At once, Pinkie’s hair grew three sizes. She cheered and smothered Adagio in a hug. “Oh, thank goodness you believe, Dagi! I don’t know what I would do if you missed out on your first year on the Nice List.”

Adagio grinned and ran a hand down one of Pinkie’s wide hips. “Oh, it’s no problem at all—I thought I broke that wretched bottle!”

Drying the spray nozzle off on her shirt, Sunset offered Pinkie a smile. “If it makes you feel better, we can still write letters to Santa. It’ll be fun, right?” She looked to Rarity and Fluttershy, who both murmured in agreement. Sunset stood and passed out sheets of paper, pens, and envelopes to the entire group. A comfortable silence overtook the room as they all set to work.

Adagio chewed on the cap of her pen and stared at the blank sheet in front of her. Scratching out a quick “Dear Santa,” she tried to think of what she wanted most for Christmas: total enslavement of the human race, or a nice bottle of aged red wine. She decided on the latter.

It was just as she wrote her demand, however, that she noticed something strange in the corner of her eye: Pinkie Pie frowning. Adagio turned to look at Pinkie, only to find the girl clutching a stuffed alligator to her chest and gazing out at her friends with wistful eyes. Every few moments she would let out the smallest of sighs, barely audible over the constant scritch of pen against paper.

Adagio jabbed Pinkie in the shoulder with her pen and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Why aren't you writing?”

“I already wrote my letter, remember?” Pinkie said, managing a shaky smile. She curled into a ball, holding her legs against her chest. “So I’m just watching. Just watching everyone write their fake letters to fake Santa...”

Adagio raised a brow. Shuffling closer to Pinkie, she asked, “I thought you believed in the Big Man.”

“I do!” Pinkie said. “I believe in Santa with all my heart! It’s just—sometimes it’s hard, y’know? Everyone at school and all my sisters are always saying he’s fake, and it makes me really sad. You’re the first adult I’ve ever met who believes in him.”

Pinkie looked down and buried her face in her knees. “Maybe they’re all right. Maybe Santa isn’t real.”

Adagio froze for a moment. When she regained control of her body, she moved away from Pinkie and picked up her wine glass. “Perhaps,” she said. She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. “Perhaps.”

A few hours later, Adagio stared up at the darkened ceiling, nestled in her sleeping bag. Her ears were filled with the soft sound of breathing, and snoring, and Rarity moaning about greased-up men wearing bow ties. Rarity had just finished her third full minute describing the abs of some guy named Blueblood when Adagio buried her head under her pillow and turned over in her sleeping bag. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to let sleep take her—it refused.

A warm buzz coursed through Adagio’s brain: the result of drinking five straight glasses of red wine without eating any pizza. Not that Adagio regretted her decision; pizza was greasy, fattening, and not at all fit for a siren of her stature. Usually Adagio would be asleep by now, enjoying dreams of locking Celestia away in a cage and feeding her nothing but vegan tofu cake for the rest of her immortal life.

But instead Adagio lay wide awake, not a gram of fatigue in her bones. Cursing under her breath, she took the pillow off of her head and opened her eyes.

Her gaze fell immediately on the calendar that hung above Pinkie’s bed. Pinkie Pie had marked off every day of the month with messy red glitter pens, moving closer and closer to that special holiday every human seemed to love: Hearth’s Warming. Pinkie had circled the day at least twelve times, and written above it in big letters, “SANTA COMES!!!”

Adagio gripped her sleeping bag and tore her gaze away. Pinkie Pie’s miserable face lingered in her thoughts, forcing a grimace. A dull pain ached in her stomach—some mix of nausea and warmth, thrumming through her body with every memory of Pinkie’s sighs. This wasn’t a feeling Adagio had ever encountered before. She pushed it away; probably just some bad wine.

She turned over again, this time to face Pinkie’s bed. She tried to resist, but within seconds was staring up at Pinkie’s face. Pinkie’s breaths came slow and steady, and if Adagio strained her neck, she could almost smell the frosting that always seemed to coat Pinkie’s soft skin.

Adagio wished that humans weren’t so pitifully weak. Why did Pinkie have to abandon her beliefs so easily? It didn’t matter if she was completely wrong—a true leader never admitted defeat, even if everything they believed went against basic common sense. That was World Domination 101.

Adagio scowled, but closed her eyes again. What would make Pinkie stronger? What would make her believe?

An idea popped into Adagio’s mind, and before she could even comprehend it, she snapped up in her sleeping bag. Thoughts sped past, new plans forming with every passing second.

She knew in her heart of hearts that this was crazy. That this was stupid, pitiful. This was the alcohol speaking. No human was worth this sort of effort.

She waited until Rarity let out a particularly loud moan, then crept out of bed, grabbed her clothes by the door, and left the room.

The clock had just struck twelve when Adagio finally returned from the mall. Hopping the fence to Pinkie Pie’s backyard, a tremor ran through her body. The cold midnight air bit at her skin like a starving wolf, threatening to eat her alive.

Of course, hypothermia was a small price to pay if it meant looking as sexy as she did. Thank heavens she left Pinkie’s house when she did; five more minutes and the mall would have closed, leaving her out of luck. Now walking through the yard, she wore neither street clothes nor her lingerie. Instead, Adagio sported a replica Santa Hooves outfit, purchased on sale from a costume store.

Well, it wasn’t exactly a Santa outfit—more like a “Santa” outfit. While Adagio had the right dangly hat and perfect bushy beard, she had taken some liberties with the rest of the costume. Her shirt was unbuttoned almost the whole way down, barely concealing her breasts. As for her skirt... from most angles, it may as well have not existed, it covered her assets so poorly.

Still, she looked damn good, and the sultry glances she had received from women on the way out of the mall were worth her fingers beginning to turn blue. Probably. Maybe.

Shivering, Adagio scurried to the door to the basement of Pinkie’s house. She turned the handle, but the door didn’t budge. Jiggling the lock a few times didn’t work either. Adagio stepped back, glanced around the yard a few times for another entrance, and when that yielded no results, took a deep breath and kicked the door in.

The crack of splintering wood covered Adagio’s shriek as a piercing pain exploded in her foot. She stuffed a fist into her mouth to stem the rising tide of curses and slurs fighting to be let out. Adagio didn’t know much about Hearth’s Warming, but was this what Pinkie thought Santa did every year?

Adagio hobbled through the basement and up the stairs to the house proper. On her way, she passed Marble Pie’s indoor zen garden; the Pie family’s prize-winning feldspar collection; and a massive dog cage marked “Boulder,” which only held a single round pebble.

Adagio had to stop for a moment to stare at the last one. With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, she moved on. “Humans.”

She crept through the kitchen, across the living room, and down the hall to Pinkie’s room. She stopped to peek her head in—when she was sure everyone was asleep, she slipped inside. Stepping over Sunset and Fluttershy and Rarity (who was now drooling), Adagio made her way to Pinkie’s bed.

Adagio gazed at her slumbering target with soft eyes. Pinkie held her stuffed alligator tight, murmuring dreamt-up words into its fabric.

Adagio took a breath. Showtime.

“Pinkamena,” she said, grabbing Pinkie and shaking her. “Wake up. We need to talk.”

Pinkie grunted and batted Adagio away. When it became clear she wasn’t about to retreat, however, Pinkie’s eyes fluttered open. She cast a bleary-eyed glare at Adagio—then went completely stiff.

“Sa—San—” Pinkie blabbered. Her entire body trembled. “Santa...?”

Adagio waved. “Ho ho ho, cutie.”

Pinkie gasped hard enough that Adagio felt her beard being sucked in. Then, in a thunderous shout: “Oh my freaking gosh, you’re Santa—”

Her yelp ground to a halt as Adagio slapped a hand over her mouth. “Quiet!” Adagio said, looking at the girls on the floor. “You’re gonna wake up the others. I wanna keep this between you and me.”

When Adagio removed her hand, Pinkie bit her lip and tugged at her hair, as if she would explode at any moment. She managed a nod, then squeaked out, “Santa, what are you doing here? It’s not Hearth’s Warming for another week!” Pinkie looked Adagio up and down. “And why are you naked?”

“Half-naked,” Adagio said, tugging down her skirt a bit.

“Uh-huh.” Pinkie’s gaze locked on Adagio’s chest. “And if you're a boy, then why do you have...?”

“The soda companies and the toy stores all got it wrong,” Adagio said. She puffed out her chest and cast Pinkie a heady stare. “I am one-hundred-percent female, my dear.” She paused, then stroked her beard. “And before you ask, this is real. Women can have beards. It’s a thing. Look it up.”

“Oh, I know. Granny Pie has a beard!” Pinkie said. “But don’t you have a wife? Mrs. Santa Hooves?”

“Yeah, so?” Adagio asked, grabbing Pinkie by her collar. “You got a problem with that?”

Pinkie giggled. “Of course not. I like girls, silly!”

The wind left Adagio’s lungs. With a gulp, she let go of Pinkie’s shirt and nodded. “Right.” She took a second to shake off her stupor before screwing up her face and saying, “Now are you just gonna ask questions, or what?”

“I’m sorry, Santa. I’m just so excited! I wanna know everything!” Pinkie leaned into Adagio. “Do your reindeer really pee rainbows? How much do you pay your elves? Are they unionized? What’s your favorite snack? It’s cupcakes, right? Everyone says it’s cookies, but I know I’m right!”

“Calm yourself,” Adagio said, grabbing Pinkie’s shoulders. “I’m not here for an interview. I’m here to thank you.”

Pinkie stopped vibrating and tilted her head. “Thank me? For what?”

“For believing in me, of course.” Adagio smiled. “I’ve seen the way you talk about me to your friends. You’re too kind, really.”

Pinkie managed a half-hearted grin. “Yep,” she muttered. “I believe. But sometimes it seems like I’m the only one.”

Adagio crossed her arms. “Does that matter?”

“Well, yeah!” Pinkie said. “When I’m the only one who believes in you, it gets super lonely sometimes. Whenever I go to mail my letter to you at the mall, everyone always laughs at me. ‘There goes Pinkie, acting like a baby.’ I can’t even talk about you without people thinking I’m stupid.”

“Well, screw them!” hissed Adagio, blood suddenly boiling.

Pinkie recoiled. “Huh?”

Adagio blinked. Shaking her head, she said, “What I mean is, y’know, you don’t have to listen to those people! All they’re trying to do is bring you down. You’re above them, Pinkie. You’re superior!”

“But what about them not believing in you?” Pinkie asked. “How can they think you don’t exist?”

“Some people just don’t believe in things they can't see,” Adagio said with a shrug. “It’s just how humans are. But here’s the thing: sometimes, things can be real without making any sense. I mean, look at that awful magic of yours! Just your ears violate the laws of physics. So don’t worry if your friends don’t believe; what’s important is that you do.”

Pinkie nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right—wait, what did you call my magic?”

“Nothing,” Adagio said. She laid a hand on Pinkie’s. “You’ve believed in me for so long. Don’t give up now.”

Pinkie grabbed Adagio’s hand. “I’m trying my best, Santa.” Her chin quivered. “But it’s really hard.”

Adagio opened her mouth to respond, but stopped short. Something tugged at her bones—something sinister. Something despicable. Something disgusting.

She cursed the alcohol flowing through her veins.

Adagio leaned forward and hugged Pinkie.

She rested her chin on Pinkie’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard. But sometimes, the bravest thing of all is faith.” Adagio felt Pinkie tremble beneath her, and held her tighter. “Stay strong, Pinkamena. This world needs more humans like you.”

Pinkie buried her face into Adagio’s hair and made a few small squeaking sounds.

The two of them sat like that for a few minutes, with no sound but their own shaky breathing. Adagio felt a comfortable warmth wrap around her—and, with it, that constant scent of cake frosting. When Pinkie finally pulled away, Adagio found herself wishing that they could have stayed like that for hours, joined together against the cold. She pushed the thought away.

“Thank you, Santa.” Pinkie sniffled. “I needed that.”

Adagio stood up and bowed. “It was my pleasure, dear. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the North Pole; I’ve been gone for a few hours now, and Mrs. Claus tends to get angry when I sneak out without telling her.” Adagio turned to the side and hiked up her skirt a bit. “Just can’t get enough of this.”

Cheeks going red, Pinkie giggled.

Adagio basked in her laughter for a second, then tiptoed back to the door. At the doorway, however, she stopped and cast one last glance back at Pinkie.

“And by the way,” Adagio said, gripping the door handle. “Thanks for being kind to that Adagio girl. She... she’s trying her best too, you know. Really.”

Pinkie yawned and rubbed an eye. “I know. Adagio is a real sweetie—even if she maybe still wants to destroy the human race.”

Adagio chuckled. “I’m sure that even if she does, she would be happy to spare your life.”

“I hope so.” Pinkie laid down and closed her eyes. “I hope so...”

Adagio waited until Pinkie’s breathing calmed, then left the room. Her entire body felt hot, despite the frigid air. She looked into a mirror on the wall and found her cheeks flushed. She took a hard swallow and kept walking. Must be sick.

She headed back the way she came, down the hall, through the living room, across the kitchen—she made sure to stop and pick up a bottle from the wine rack when she passed.

“Thank you, Santa,” she said, resting it on her shoulder as she headed down the stairs to the basement. She hummed a tune and turned a corner.

Maud sat three feet in front of her, fiddling with the latch on the Boulder cage.

The two locked eyes, silent.

With a stilted laugh, Adagio tugged down her skirt and buttoned her top. “Aheh heh... Um. Ho ho ho?”

Maud blinked. “I can see that.”

Adagio held her head high and walked past Maud, slapping her on the back as she went. “Just stopping by to, uh, examine your decorations! Yeah, that’s it. Make sure they’re up to snuff, yeah?” Adagio spun around and poked Maud in the chest with the wine bottle. “You wouldn’t want me to skip your house, would you?”

“Adagio, you broke down our back door. You let a raccoon in.”

Adagio groaned and tore off her fake beard. “Yeah, yeah, look: I’ll pay for a new door, an exterminator, whatever you need. Just... just don’t tell Pinkamena it was me, okay?”

“Alright.” Maud crossed her arms. “But you owe me a favor.”

Adagio groaned again. Grumbling, she reached up and began to unbutton her shirt.

“No,” Maud said, eyes going the least bit wider. “Not that. Please.”

“What then?”

“I have to decide. I’ll let you know when I do,” Maud said. She walked back to the staircase, then cast a small smile back at Adagio. “Goodnight, Santa Hooves.”

Adagio scowled as she left. With a sneeze, Adagio hurried out of the basement and out of the backyard, headed to where she hid her regular clothes.

The next morning, Adagio trudged down the hall to the kitchen, sniffling all the way. Mucus poured from her nose, and her head pounded with the force of a bongo drum. Her hair hung in streaks over her face. So much for looking sexy; not even lingerie could save this wreck of a woman.

When she entered the kitchen, Sunset, Rarity, and Fluttershy all called a greeting to her. “What happened to you?” Sunset asked. “What, did you sneak out the window or something while we were asleep?”

Adagio poured herself a liberal dose of orange juice. “Yes.”

As the others laughed, Pinkie Pie sped by on a pair of roller skates and laid a steaming plate of pancakes in front of Adagio. The topmost cake wore a smiley face, with two pats of butter for the eyes and a string of chocolate chips for the mouth.

“Good morning!” Pinkie said, stopping at the head of the table. “Hope you like your pancakes, Dagi! They were made with happiness and love and loads of high fructose corn syrup. That’s the best kind of corn syrup!”

Adagio took a hesitant bite, expecting it to taste like sludge, the same as most human food. And yet, even through her cold, it tasted... good? She took another bite, then another, and within a minute was through her first pancake.

Pinkie rolled by and ruffled her hair. “Glad you like it!”

“The pancakes really are delicious,” Fluttershy said.

Sunset threw Pinkie a grin. “What’s got you so hyped up this morning, Pinks? Find where your parents are keeping the presents?”

“I had the absolute best night ever!” Pinkie said, throwing her hands into the air. She sped over and grabbed Sunset’s shoulders. “Santa Hooves visited me! In my room! Can you believe it?”

Rarity shook her head. “I thought we had this conversation yesterday, Pinkie.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t believe in her, but this is true!” Pinkie said. “She really did visit, just so she could talk to me. She had a big beard, and a jolly laugh, and the sexiest bod I’ve ever seen!”

Adagio coughed up a pancake.

“Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?” Fluttershy asked.

Pinkie gave a vigorous nod. “I’m sure!”

As they were oft to do, the three exchanged a glance—then all offered Pinkie a smile. “Whatever you say,” Sunset said, returning to her meal.

Any semblance of amusement on Pinkie’s face disappeared. She pouted and slumped into a seat, eyes falling to the floor, quiet.

Across from her, Adagio mouthed a prayer.

And before Adagio could finish, the grin returned to Pinkie’s face. She laughed and skated back over to her friends. “It’s okay that you don’t believe me,” she said, hugging each one individually. “I love you anyway.”

“We love you, too,” Rarity said, returning the gesture. She smirked. “Isn’t that right, Adagio?”

Adagio snorted and prepared a snarky retort—but when Pinkie came around and hugged her, she just looked down. “Whatever.”

The group called another greeting as Maud walked in, carrying Boulder in her hand. She laid him down on the table and sat down. Pinkie handed her a plate, and she set to work.

“Ooh, you’re in a good mood today,” Pinkie said, watching Maud eat. “What’s up? Did Santa visit you, too?”

Adagio tensed up—until Maud shook her head and said, “No.” She grabbed Adagio’s shoulder. “But your friend here promised that she would help out at next month’s activity fair. The Geology Club needs someone to wear the quartzite costume.”

Adagio slammed her fork on the table. “I agreed to no such—”

Maud tightened her grip on Adagio’s shoulder.

Biting down the curses flying up her throat, Adagio forced a grin. “I mean, of course I did! How could I have forgotten?”

“For real?” Sunset gave a slow clap. “That’s awesome, Adagio. Maybe soon we can pour out the Friendship Spray for good!”

Adagio slumped in her seat. “Woo.”

Pinkie kissed Adagio on the cheek.

Adagio shot up straight. With a slack jaw, she gazed up at Pinkie.

“You’re off the Naughty List for sure,” Pinkie said. She skated away.

For a moment, Adagio just sat, petrified. Then, heart booming, she went back to eating. A part of her begged to make some comment about how disgusting human kisses were—but it was a bit hard to speak with that big goofy smile on her face.

Eye to Eye (for thedarkitty)

Eye to Eye

        Twilight Sparkle bent lower, staring intently into the ruby eyes of the pegasus she had pinned to the crystal floor under her hooves.

        Rainbow Dash tried to stay calm as she returned Twilight’s gaze, but found her breaths coming in shallow, nervous gasps. She could feel Twilight’s bangs brushing against her own disheveled mane, Twilight’s warm breath on her cheeks as her muzzle inched closer and closer. Rainbow’s muscles were tense, twitchy, aching to move, but she didn’t dare.

        “T-Twi?” Rainbow whispered.

        Twilight squinted. “Mmmhmmm?”

        “What is it?”

        “It’s definitely a splinter.”

        Rainbow squirmed and let out a noise somewhere between a groan and nervous laughter. She slapped a hoof on the ground repeatedly and said, “Then pull it ou-how-howt!”

        With a shake of her head, Twilight flapped her wings and lifted herself off of Rainbow Dash. “I told you, you should just go to the doctor.”

        “But you have magic!” Rainbow rolled over, shook the tension out of her muscles, then held her eye open with a pair of wing feathers. “Can’t you just, like, teleport it out, or whatever?”

        “I might take a chunk of your eye with it.” Twilight slapped Rainbow’s wing away from her face. “Your eye is going to dry out if you keep holding it open. You can blink. Just don’t rub it.”

        “It hurts to blink!”

        “Then just close your eye, and”—Twilight poked Rainbow in the chest with each word—”go. To. The. Doctor.”

        “Ow, I—” Rainbow winced and brought a wing up to her eye. “Ow! It’s hard to keep just one eye closed. I keep blinking.”

        “Well, hold on,” Twilight said as she turned around. “I know there’s a…”

        Rainbow watched as Twilight began poking around the crystal palace. There was a brightly-colored bouncy ball beneath a potted plant, a whoopee cushion full of glitter beneath a seat cushion, and finally an eye patch hidden behind a curtain.

        “Sweet!” Rainbow lunged forward and snatched the patch out of Twilight’s magic, looping it over her head and striking a dramatic pose. “I bet I look pretty awesome, huh? Pretty tough?”

        Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yeah. So tough you didn’t bother wearing safety goggles.” She tilted her head to the side. “How did you manage to get a splinter in your eye, anyway?”

        “Well, Hearth’s Warming is coming up, you know,” Rainbow said as she let Twilight guide her towards the door, “and everypony is mailing gifts to friends and family, right?”

        Snow crunched under their hooves as Twilight draped a scarf around her neck and tugged it tight. “Yeah?”

        “With all the extra packages, the mail ponies were having a hard time keeping up.” Rainbow turned her head toward Twilight. “Hey, where’d you go?”

        “I’m right here, Rainbow.”

        Rainbow twisted her neck around, finally walking in a complete circle. “Can you walk on my right side? It’s kinda weird talking to you when I can’t see you. Like you’re gonna disappear and leave me talking to myself.”

        Twilight smiled back and watched a puff of breath dissolve in the air between them. “I’m not going anywhere, Rainbow.” She chuckled. “Well, except for the doctor. I’m going there. But not, you know, without you. So, relative to your position, I’m not going anywhere. That’s what I meant.”

        Rainbow gasped and grabbed Twilight’s shoulders with both hooves. “Oh no, Twi! What’s wrong? Why are you going to the doctor?”

        Echoes of distant hoofsteps and warm laughter filtered through the snowflakes as they fell, illuminated by the orange streetlamps. Twilight tilted her head and pursed her lips, squinting at Rainbow for several long seconds. Finally she rolled her eyes and said, “There’s a pain in my flank that I’d like to get taken care of.”

        Rainbow spun Twilight around and looked her up and down. “Your flank looks fine to me.”

        Twilight ruffled her feathers and cleared her throat. “You were telling me about the mail ponies?” She resumed trotting with a glance back at Rainbow.

        “Yeah, so they were super busy. Derpy asked for help with some of the bigger packages. And, you know, I’m super good at carrying heavy stuff ‘cuz of”—she popped out her wings and wiggled the feathers around—”these babies!”

        Twilight yelped and jumped several inches into the air.

        “What is it?” Rainbow pinched her eyebrows together and frowned at Twilight. “Is it the pain in your flank?”

        “Yes,” Twilight growled, rubbing her flank with one hoof. “It certainly was. Watch where you’re swinging those babies. You managed to brush right across my cutie mark.”

        “Eheheh, sorry. Didn’t realize you were so close.”

        Twilight smoothed down the fur on her flank. “I-it’s okay. You just startled me, is all.” She turned down a side street and waited for Rainbow to follow her. “So Derpy asked you for help with the big packages?”

        “Oh, yeah. So there was this really big wooden crate. I had one side, and she was holding the other one. Well, things went about how you’d expect.”

        “Uh huh.” Twilight smiled as she lifted a wing to shield her face from the snow kicked up by  a group of foals running past.

        “So this gigantic crate is falling from the sky. Right. Toward. An orphanage.”

        “Of course it was.”

        “Yeah, and—”

        “Probably full of hundreds of orphans, all waiting for overdue Hearth’s Warming presents.” Twilight raised one eyebrow and tried not to smile as she looked at Rainbow from the corner of her eye.

        Rainbow just nodded and started talking faster. “Yeah, so I dove to catch it. I was going fast, and I mean fast! Not quite sonic rainboom fast, but still impressive, if I do say so myself.”

        Twilight smirked. “It does sound like you’re impressed.”

        “It takes a lot to impress me.” Rainbow winked – or maybe blinked, Twilight couldn’t tell – and bumped into a lamppost. “Gah! Twilight, could you help guide me? I didn’t realize how dangerous the streets of Ponyville are.”

        “Sure,” Twilight said as she looked over at Rainbow. “Just walk closer to me. Let’s get you to the doctor before you hurt yourself.”

        Rainbow stepped closer to Twilight, just far enough apart that their hips didn’t bump with each step. Close enough that she could feel an occasional tickle when the fringe on Twilight’s scarf caught a breeze. Even though pegasi were naturally cold-resistant, it was still nice to feel the warmth radiating from Twilight’s fur.

        The street became quieter as more and more ponies headed into the whitewashed stucco homes that poured orange light across the snow-covered sidewalks. Twilight cleared her throat. “So, your heroics?”

        “Y-yeah, that.” Rainbow shrugged and looked at the ground. “I caught the crate, but I guess I caught it a little bit too hard. The crate exploded.”

        Twilight nodded her head as she listened, then said, “The impulse you gave it was too short.”

        Rainbow twisted her muzzle and raised an eyebrow. “Buh?”

        Twilight chuckled. “Physics. The crate’s momentum could have been negated by a smaller force acting over a longer period of time, and the smaller force wouldn’t have broken the crate.”

        “Oh. Okay.”

        “So what happened to the crate?” Twilight held open the door to the Ponyville Hospital. “Or, I guess, the stuff in the crate?”

        “I dunno,” Rainbow said as she carefully navigated through the doorway. “I had a splinter in my eye.”

        Nurse Redheart looked up from her desk and tapped a pencil on her clipboard. “A splinter, huh? It seems we have an epidemic.”

        Rainbow looked up. “An epidemic?”

        Redheart pointed toward toward a hallway where Derpy was standing with a sheepish grin. “Hi, Rainbow Dash.” She waved with a bandaged hoof.

        “Wait,” Rainbow said, squinting her one good eye, “what are you doing here?”

        “I’m sorry I dropped my end of the crate, Rainbow, but I got a splinter in my hoof. I flinched and…” She shrugged.

        Rainbow smiled and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I left you to clean up the mess on your own. I got a splinter, right in my eye.”

        Derpy giggled. “Yeah, I think everyone in Ponyville heard you screaming about it.”

        “Heh, yeah.” Rainbow rubbed the back of her head with a hoof. “I kinda did freak out. What happened after the crate broke? Nopony was hurt, right?”

        “Everypony was safe, don’t worry. It was full of stuffed animals that rained down all over the orphanage. All the colts and fillies thought that we’d dropped them a bunch of Hearth’s Warming presents.”

        “Wait,” said Twilight as Nurse Redheart stacked some papers onto a clipboard. “How are you going to get those toys back?”

        Rainbow turned around slowly and regarded Twilight with a furrowed brow. “We’re not going to steal toys from a bunch of orphans, Twilight.”

        “What! No! That’s not what I was—” Twilight facehoofed. “Don’t you still have to deliver them?”

        Derpy smiled. “Yeah, the box was addressed to Barnyard Bargains, so I flew to Filthy Rich’s house and asked him about it. He said that just knowing all those foals are happy is the best Hearth’s Warming gift he could have had this year.”

        Twilight smiled. “That’s really sweet.”

        “Yeah,” said Rainbow with a lopsided grin, “everything I’m involved in seems to turn out that way.”

        Twilight gritted her teeth in a twitching approximation of a smile as she turned to Nurse Redheart and took the clipboard in her magic. “About that pain in my flank.”

 

 

 

So, Want to Pop Over to Equestria for a Weekend? (for Oroboro)

"What?" I asked, staring at the young fashionista.

She was hauling down a bolt of cloth, smiling. I wasn't sure why she'd dragged me to the fabric store, but she'd insisted. Clearly it was a trap.

Rarity continued. "I'm just saying, it would be nice to go see Princess Twilight again. I'm sure barring some kind of disaster she'd be perfectly happy to host us. Plus I'd get a chance to see this exciting world you seem so keen on!"

I felt my fingers twitch. "Um... Rarity, you do realize that if we went back there you would turn into a pony right?"

Rarity shrugged, "So? Ooh! Darling, hold up this pattern for a moment, I think the color really brings out the highlights in your hair."

I rolled my eyes and picked up the bolt of cloth. "Look, Rarity I understand your curiosity, but it wouldn't be safe. Equestria has more than it's fair share of monster attacks."

Rarity nodded, "As do we... No, no put that down dear, that's clearly more of a crimson red and you're more of an ember red." She put the bolt back on the shelf and examined a light blue one. "The portal is located right in Princess Twilight's castle correct? I assume that means we would have her protection. Besides dear, it's not as though we couldn't send her a message and ask her if something was wrong."

I bit my lip. It was a lot easier to argue with someone when they weren't being so... reasonable. Fortunately there was still a way out of this. I shot her a smile. "Okay Rarity, if you want to go to Equestria I'm sure Twilight would be happy to host you. I'm afraid I can't make it this weekend though, so it will just be you two."

Even with her back turned I could sense her smirk. "Oh no dear, you're free."

I blinked... then crossed my arms. "How do you know that?"

She turned back to me, her hands on her hips. "Because I checked with all the girls. None of them have booked you and there are no major class assignments coming up."

I glared at her. "You've been spying on me?"

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Asking a person's friends if they have anything scheduled is hardly spying." She looked at me, concerned. "Sunset, how long are you going to put this off?"

I stared at her, anger welling up in my chest. "How long am I going to put off what? Leaving all my friends behind? Getting arrested for High Treason? I'm stuck in this hole, Rarity! I thought that was freaking obvious!"

A few people poked their heads around. I forced myself to smile and pretend everything was normal. Eventually they just went back to shopping. It wasn't like someone else's fight was their problem anyway...

"We can take this somewhere more private if you want dear," Rarity said evenly.

I grit my teeth. "It's fine." At least she wasn't trying to pin me here. Heck, we'd even come in separate cars. I could just leave and forget this conversation ever happened. Rarity would probably let me do that right? I glanced to the door.

"You can leave if you want." Rarity said. "I'm not going to force anything on you, but..." She eyed a bolt of silvery cloth with a grimace. "I just want you to take a step."

I raised an eyebrow. "Rarity, ever since I befriended you guys I've done nothing but take steps. I've changed my mood, I've changed my reputation, I've turned into a magical girl and saved the world..."

Rarity nodded. "Those are good things dear... But you never set foot back home. And don't tell me you're going to get arrested, Twilight was the wronged party and she forgave you about two seconds after you felt an ounce of remorse."

I bit my lip. "Maybe... Rarity, what if I don't want to go back home? I mean that's valid right? I don't want to see Celestia or all of Twilight's friends who probably still think of me as a monster or..." I shook my head. "I just don't want to go there, okay?"

Rarity put a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to Sunset. And I can understand you wanting to stay with us. I'd certainly miss you if you left. But I feel like your reasons for not wanting to go back are based in the idea that..." She looked away.

"That what!?" I snapped. I was running out of patience.

"That you still think you're a bad person," She said.

I winced. "I am a bad person," I replied.

Now it was Rarity's turn to glare. "No Sunset, you're not. And if anyone says otherwise I will destroy them. You may have gone through a dark period in your life, but what matters is the person you are right now."

I gulped. I was never going to win this argument by badmouthing myself, even if I deserved it. "Rarity I... I'm not sure I can face her."

She raised an eyebrow. "Twilight?"

I shook my head. "No... Celestia."

She opened her mouth, but I cut her off. "Yeah, I know, to you she's just some principal, but to me she's... She's more than that."

I felt myself curling down, hugging my arms tight. "She... She's kind of my mom."

Rarity blinked. She put a hand on my shoulder. "Sunset... If that's true, I'm certain all she wants is to know you're safe..."

I grit my teeth. "Damnit, Rarity I know that! Intellectually, I know that, but there's a chance... A chance she'd throw me away. And who would blame her? I don't deserve her love."

She pulled me into a hug. "Sunset, no! You can't... You can't think like that!"

I pushed her off. "Don't touch me!" I snapped.

Rarity fell into the wall of fabric samples, harder than I'd intended. My eyes went wide. "Rarity! Oh no, are you okay?"

She held up her hands before I could get closer. "I'm fine dear. I'm tougher than I look." She looked down at my shaking hands and shook her head. "I'm much more worried about you."

I put my hands down. I can't believe I just did that... "I- I need to go. Somewhere private. Somewhere where I can blow off steam."

She gestured to the back stairwell. "We could go to the roof, barely anyone goes up there so-"

"Perfect." I said, stepping back. "But... Stay down here, okay? I want to be alone."

"Sunset..."

I narrowed my eyes. "It's only two stories Rarity, I couldn't do anything if I tried!"

Her eyes went wide. "I... I hadn't even considered that."

I felt a shiver roll down my spine. "Yeah, well... don't." I met her gaze, speaking softly. "Look Rare, I don't want to hurt you. Right now that's all I'm good for."

I turned around and marched myself to the stairwell. I needed to hit something. I needed to scream! I needed... I had no idea what I needed.

"Sunset!"

I froze.

"Look," Came Rarity's voice. "I know you have a checkered past, but... That's all it is alright? It isn't what defines you."

She let out a breath. "Your past is not today. Today people care about you."

I winced, turning my back on her. "Sure Rarity, sure..."

Auld Lang Syne (for Revenant Wings)

Trixiebell Lulamoon was not lost.

 

No, of course not. After all, she knew exactly where she was: in the woods. In the middle of winter.

 

It was the rest of the world she wasn't so sure about.

 

"Achoo!" Her sneeze stirred the falling snow. "Stupid snowstorm. Stupid woods. Stupid, stupid." Her recriminations quieted to mumbles. She paused, shaking her harness-bells. Not even a farmhouse nearby. "Trixie doesn't even know whose woods these are." She drew in a determined breath and returned to her trudging.

 

The shadows were lengthening, the trees leaning close over the narrow road. She hadn't seen the sun properly all day. She really ought to stop before it got too cold, but sheer stubbornness drove her forwards. Just one more turn, and she would be out of the woods; one more curve, and she would see a gap in the trees, a flash of white plains rolling into gentle hills or a cluster of houses with firelight spilling from the windows. Someplace with ponies who could be entertained, impressed, and parted from a few bits. And perhaps a warm meal.

 

"Achoo!" She wiped her raw nose on the damp hem of her cape, which wasn't nearly as warm as wished. "Ah!" As she snuffled and blinked, shoving her hat back from her eyes, she caught a glimpse of something through the trees. It was a distant glimmer, a warm gleam of orange light. Hope renewing strength, she flipped her cape back and leaned into the harness.

 

As she rounded another curve, the gleam grew, but she frowned. "A campfire?" She rubbed snow from her eyelashes and peered again. Sure enough, a fire was flickering up ahead. The woods stood back from a hillock, leaving one stately spruce to crown the rise. Wind and warmth had cleared the snow from its side, leaving a circle of damp, dead grass around the fire.

 

As Trixie neared, she saw a bright blanket spread there, one corner anchored by a keg, the other by a prone form. Suddenly curious and cautious, she pulled harder, dragging her wagon up to the base of the hill and shucking off the harness. She approached slowly, inching past the fire to inspect the still form. It was a dark blue pony, larger than most, with a billowing mane that glinted in the dim evening light.

 

"P—!" Trixie lost her voice in a shocked gasp.

 

"Mmmm…" The mare on the ground stirred, opening one eye and catching sight of Trixie. For a long moment they simply stared.

 

"Princess Luna!" Trixie threw herself into a bow, whipping off her hat.

 

"Hmmm?" The Princess rose and stretched. She yawned, rubbed her eyes, and stood. "A traveler?" She cocked her head. "Are you lost, little one?"

 

Something in Trixie's heart protested the diminutive, but she looked up at the alicorn and repressed it. "Trixie," she said confidently, "knows exactly where she is—"

 

"Ho?" Luna beamed. "Excellent! I had thought nopony would remember, and so—"

 

"It is the rest of the world Trixie is unsure of," the showmare finished.

 

"…Ah." Luna's smile quirked, soured, before dissolving into wistfulness. "Oh. I see. You… you are Trixie? Please, do not bow." She sat. "Come, sit, and know me better."

 

"Ah…" Trixie stood and glanced back at her wagon. "Could The—" she swallowed her words and sneezed. "Excuse Trixie. Could Trixie offer you something in return? A few bits? A small performance in payment?"

 

 Luna looked mildly shocked. "On Yuletide?"

 

"Trixie will not be beholden—"

 

"Hush." Luna's voice was firm. "Trixie, do not scorn the spirit of charity. It may seem a poor, weak thing some days, but it truly burns bright as the greatest of virtues, a self-sacrificing love for others. Tonight, I offer you all I have here, freely and without restraint." She waved a hoof at the fire, the keg, and the blanket. "Little though it may be." She sighed. "I honestly did not expect company."

 

Trixie hesitated.

 

"Please, come sit." Luna waved her over. "At least warm yourself." She glanced at Trixie’s wagon. "Skids?"

 

"Wheels are less than useless in snow," Trixie huffed. Surrendering with a sigh, she doffed her hat and trotted over to the blanket. It was thick and warm underhoof. She carefully stamped the snow from her fetlocks at the edge, before moving closer to the fire. A huge oak log blazed on a bed of coals, and a delicious smell wafted from a pan of chestnuts roasting at the edge. "Princess, if I may ask, why…" The alicorn turned to her, and the ice-blue eyes gave her pause.

 

Luna smiled. "I am here, because here is where I need to be." She shrugged and laughed, injecting a quiet cheer into her countenance. "But let us put that aside." She turned to the keg. "Would you care for something to drink?" She waved to the fire. "Or would you like a chestnut? It seems I brought more than enough for one mare."

 

"Trixie would like a chestnut," Trixie answered swiftly, swallowing at the savory-sweet smell.

 

"Excellent!" Luna clapped in glee, before looking up. "Help yourself. Excuse me for a moment; it seems moonrise is upon us."

 

Trixie levitated one of the piping-hot treats from the stone pot. She peeled it with her magic and puffed to cool it as she watched Luna stand and stride a few paces away.

 

The woods were dark now, barely visible in the tail-end of sunset and the fire's dim glow. The snowfall had stopped, only a few lonely flakes swirling from errant gusts of wind. The blanketing white muffled the world, leaving the two of them in a pool of silence that seemed to pour down from the wide, cold sky. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and a distant hush of the wind through the treetops.

 

Luna's magic glowed crisp and icy on the sparkling snow. It flickered and ran, pouring off her in torrents as she gathered her power and hefted the moon skywards. It eased over the horizon, spilling silver across the surroundings, silhouetting the Princess in a gentle glow.

 

"There!" Luna smiled. "Now, let me pour the mead, and we will talk, and perhaps sing, and the night will pass quickly!"

 

Trixie nodded and smiled around a mouthful of chestnut. She glanced at her cold, dark wagon. That… that sounded pretty good to her.

 

 

"Hahaha!" Luna threw her head back and guffawed. "Diamond Dogs, adopting kittens?"

 

"And so, they lost faith in Trixie, the crown came off, and Rainbow and Trixie escaped!" The showmare waved excitedly. "And that, Princess, is how Trixie was Queen for a week." She puffed out her chest and grinned. The Princess clapped and Trixie bowed, taking another sip of 'mead'. It was delicious, although nothing like cider. The glow sitting right behind her breastbone spread through her limbs and to the tips of her ears, keeping the chill air out of her coat. "So, afterwards, Trixie set off to find a new trick."

 

"Oh?" Luna leaned forwards. "And what was that?"

 

"Eh, hehe, well…" Trixie rubbed an ear nervously. She didn't really feel like delving into the whole 'amulet' episode. "It was a little embarrassing, but Trixie learned a valuable ‘friendship lesson’ through it." She grinned and raised her tankard. "Trixie thinks she is doing very well at ‘friendship’."

 

"Indeed." Luna grinned. "I would agree."

 

"And you, Princess?" The mead warmed Trixie's courage, and she tried asking again. "Why are you here, in the middle of the woods Trixie is in?"

 

"Ah." Luna's smile weakened a little. "Tonight… do you know what tonight is?"

 

"Three days from Hearthwarming?" Trixie frowned.

 

"Mmm." Luna nodded. "In this age, that is true. But it wasn't always so." She looked into the fire, eyes going distant. "Tonight, dear Trixie, is the winter solstice, longest night of the year, what was once called 'Yule'."

 

Trixie sipped her mead, listening closely. The last of the chestnuts sat warm in her stomach.

 

"And as midsummer day is my sisters, so is midwinter mine." She sighed. "It is a time of change, of the turning of the world, renewal and refreshing at the year's nadir, a time of second chances and beginnings, sparks from cold ashes and life out of death. As there are certain things my sister must do at midsummer, so there are things I attend to on my day. Ah." She looked up. "The night is indeed passing quickly. Morning nears, Trixie."

 

Trixie blinked. Had they really been so long, sitting chatting, singing, and drinking from Luna's bottomless keg? But at the Princess' words, the air around them seemed to twist. Trixie looked up from her drink. The stars wavered and gleamed, cold and hard in the blackness. The moon was behind the trees, its clear beams invisible.

 

"Princess?" the small pony asked.

 

Luna rubbed a hoof over her eyes. "I apologize. I should have prepared you for this." The alicorn scooted closer, throwing a huge wing over the smaller mare. "Stay close to me, and remember: grasping the dreams of the future requires seeing the past for what it is."

 

Trixie shivered despite Luna’s warmth as a rumble, right on the edge of hearing, shook the air.

 

She turned her ears, trying to pinpoint the source. The rumble grew, quivering through the night until she could recognize the sound of hundreds of hooves hammering in sync.

 

"There," Luna whispered, pointing upwards.

Trixie looked towards the horizon, seeing a distortion waver across the stars. As the sound grew, ferocious and wild, the strangeness solidified. It went from nearly invisible to a rippling blue glow, a knot, a herd, a stampeding torrent of translucent shapes. They were superficially similar to ponies, with hard, fierce lines and gleaming blue eyes. They poured across the sky, twisting and curling overhead as they drew nearer and nearer. Trixie leaned into Luna's side, unable to tear her eyes from the sight, trying to keep from shaking.

 

In moments, the herd drew near. They turned lower and lower, galloping directly towards the hill, swarming through and around the trees. As the wave of crazed ghosts rushed towards them, a scream built in Trixie's throat. She was almost ready to break and run when she felt Luna quiver next to her.

 

Is… is she afraid?

The thought, instead of igniting Trixie’s panic, chilled it instantly. She turned to the Princess, who stared at the herd with cold, flat eyes. The rumbling ceased a moment later, jerking Trixie’s attention back to the forest.

 

The windigos - they couldn't be anything else - surrounded them. Their flickering glow lit the night, hard blue lines slicing the darkness into silhouettes. There was a moment of bated breath, before two figures broke from the group and strode forwards.

 

Trixie could only stare as a tall, commanding mare stepped up, flanked by a smaller, softer edged pony. The leader spread translucent bat-wings, grinning around a mouthful of fangs at the Princess and the showmare.

 

"Nightmare," Trixie breathed. But then the second pony flicked her mane and smirked, drawing attention to the angular pendant she wore.

 

Luna turned to Trixie. "That amulet…?" Trixie lowered her head in shame. Luna, however, placed a hoof on her chin and raised her head. "No, friend Trixie, do not look away." The Princess turned to face her own specter. "Trixie, repeat after me." The Princess stood, pulling Trixie up with her. She drew in a deep breath, firmed her stance, looked her doppelganger right in the eyes, and proclaimed: "I know you. I am done with you."

 

There was a moment of tension, and then the windigo stumbled. Its shape fuzzed, squirmed, and dissolved.

 

"Now you." Luna turned, staring at Trixie. The showmare drew in her own breath, and looked at the shadow before her. She remembered the amulet, the power, the sweet feeling of strength—but winced as the cold, cold loneliness rolled in after.

She recalled what Twilight had taught her, about friendship and second chances and how she didn’t have to fear her weakness when she had the strength of others. She looked to Luna. Luna smiled. She turned back, and saw herself standing there as she had been, proud, cold, and so very, very, alone.

 

"Trixie knows you." She swallowed. "Trixie is done with you," she said, and meant every word of it. "Trixie is done with pushing other ponies away, with being brittle, silly, and proud." She smiled as Luna's wing squeezed her withers. "Trixie is done with being alone."

 

The specter flinched, cracked, and shredded. A freezing gust scattered it to the night. The wild host stood a moment longer, until they bowed deeply in unison, stomped once, and thundered into the distance.

 

As the last spectral shape ghosted into the woods, golden light stabbed through the trees. Trixie blinked, and it was dawn. The night was over. The log was nearly ash. The chestnuts were long gone. The keg was at the dregs.

"Are you alright?" Luna stepped away.

 

"Trixie…" Trixie drew in a shuddering breath, and smiled. "Trixie is doing very well."

 

"Good." Luna smiled back. Then her eyes widened and turned to the tree. "Oh, I almost forgot. Presents!"

 

"Huh?" Trixie looked up at the spruce in confusion.

 

"I apologize it is unwrapped. I did not plan for this, so…" Luna flicked her wings and soared to the top of the tree, reaching for the last star in the sky.

 

No, wait… Trixie blinked in confusion and shock as she realized that the star wasn't in the sky. The shimmering point of cold light was, in fact, perched on the tip of the highest bough. Luna plucked it from its place and swooped down, offering it to Trixie.

 

"Princess—"

 

"This is Hastorang, guardian of the south skies." The star pulsed and gleamed in the soft morning light, a blue jewel that spun a halo of glory around Luna's hoof. "It is yours."

 

"Princess, this is too much. You can't give Trixie a star. She doesn't deserve it."

 

"Of course not." Luna leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. "That is why it is a gift." She smiled tucked the star into Trixie's mane, where it gleamed and twinkled in reflection of her own. "Thank you for keeping me company. Did you enjoy the night?"

 

"…Very much, Princess." Trixie stumbled over the words, suddenly overwhelmed. "Trixie enjoyed it very much."

 

"Good." Luna smiled. "There's a town due east of here. If you don't sleep too long, you should be able to reach it before Hearth’s-warming. Have a happy new year, Trixie."

 

"Princess!" Trixie called, even as Luna turned and spread her wings.

 

 Luna looked back. "Yes?"

 

"See you next year?" Trixie called hopefully.

 

"Mayhap." Luna smiled back, before flapping once, and soaring skywards. "Mayhap you shall!" she called, as she sped southwards.

 

Trixie stood for a long moment, watching as Luna faded into the distance. Suddenly, a huge yawn wracked her frame, and she realized she had stayed up all night - on the longest night of the year. She rubbed her tender eyes as the sun reached higher, and looked back at her wagon, starting to warm in the light.

 

She trotted to the door, and stumbled towards her bed inside. It warmed quickly, and she smiled as she drifted off to sleep.

 

Goodnight, Princess, she thought. And a happy new year to you, as well.

 

 A giggle drifted past her. Thanks!

 

And then she was dreaming.

Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry (for Noble Cause)

Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry

To: Noble Cause

“Do I have to?”

The pink eyes glaring up at her, looking oh so disappointed, said yes, she definitely had to. Luna sighed.

“But I don’t want to.”

The stare was unwavering, though it did get a little more exasperated.

“But I’ve done it so many times, Celestia.”

“You got to miss a thousand of them.”

That shut her up real quick. She didn’t make eye contact as she finished her toast. Actually, said toast was suddenly incredibly interesting. If one looked closely, there was a certain beauty in the way the morning sunlight hit the strawberry jelly on the toast, filling it with light. Absolutely fascinating.

It was a view she didn’t often get to experience. For good reason.

“Why am I awake again?” She asked, invoking an eye roll from her sister.

She sighed, and slowly rose from the table, the crusts of her toast abandoned on the plate, small globs of jelly still shimmering in the morning sunlight.

“Alright, but you’re raising the moon for me tonight.”

Celestia refrained from rolling her eyes again as her sister walked out of the dining room, her tail swishing behind her.

Luna was headed back to her room in order to bundle up to brace the cold, and hopefully get a few more minutes to herself, but a guard stopped her on the way.

He held a stack of neatly folded winter clothes.

“Celestia took some precautions, didn’t she?” He nodded and floated the stack over to her. She reluctantly took it and thanked him.

He didn’t move. She stood and waited. He stayed put. She stared at him.

“The Princess insisted somepony escort you.” He said delicately, knowing very well how angry this would make Luna.

“Does she really not trust me that much?” Luckily, she seemed more exasperated than angry. She shook her head, brushing it off, and quickly pulled on the sweater, boots, scarf and hat. All in a shade of red that she equated with blood rather than merriment.

She paused for a moment to look over her appearance in a window reflection.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” She asked her companion. He shrugged, and she trotted back down the hallway, the boots muffling her hoofsteps slightly.

Behind her, the guard looked slightly silly, his pace unnatural to keep up with Luna’s long legs.

But that was the idea.

Right before she stepped outside, she quickly cast a warming spell on herself. The winter gear was just for show, after all.

She swung open the doors and was instantly greeted by a frenzy of photo flashes. She pretended not to notice as she walked past, the crowd parted like the Red sea.

They followed her as she walked into the main part of Canterlot, a procession of winter coats and cameras. She quietly asked her escort if there was any way to get rid of the vultures. He shook his head.

“It’s generally a well publicized event.” He whispered back. She sighed, quietly of course.

The princess was a little out of practice. She hadn’t even been back on this planet for too many winters, so Celestia had been covering for... a while, even though they were meant to take turns. But, as the two had discussed at length, she had to do it.

It had begun to snow, and little flakes kept getting caught in her mane and tail.

Whatever. It’s festive.

She could see her destination long before she arrived.

They’d sent out scouts weeks before to find the tallest pine tree in Equestria, and this one had taken twenty pegasi to fly back to Canterlot and set up in the middle of the city square.

It was decorated with tinsel and garlands and strings of unlit light bulbs and ornaments made by foals from all across Equestria.

Luna found it a little gaudy, but you couldn’t have paid her to say it out loud.

Pegasi fluttered around the tree, adjusting ornaments and sprinkling glitter on the branches. But as soon as they saw her approaching, entourage in tow, they quickly stopped and landed back on the ground.

There was a large crowd surrounding the tree, and they started cheering as she got close. She put on her best princess smile.

Velvet ropes created a barrier around the tree, with a few feet around it. This entire circle was empty, aside from the tree, the head tree decorator (Moon something? Luna couldn’t remember her name), and a large candy-cane themed throne.

The decorator trotted over to her and gave her an oversized white glittery star as the crowd fell silent.

Her wings unfurled and she gracefully flew to the top of the tree, holding the star.

It was a lot colder way at the top of the tree, which sent a chill through her. She paused for a moment to look down at all the little ponies staring upwards, waiting for her.

She took a deep breath and placed the star on the very top of the massive tree.

Instantly, the tree sprang to life, the millions of lights on the tree twinkling, lighting up the square in the dusk. The crowd voiced their amazement at the display while Luna flew back down.

It is pretty beautiful. She admitted to herself.

She didn’t dwell on the tree for too long, though. Instead, she quickly sat in the throne, taking a moment to get comfortable.

She sighed quietly, taking a moment to get ready for the part she wasn’t too keen on.

“Alright fillies and colts.” She said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “Who wants to sit on Luna’s lap?”

The sky was just starting to get dark as Luna was escorted back, this time without the regiment of ponies behind her.

When Celestia did this, she’d stay out all night, watching as the lights on the tree lit up the whole square. But Luna had a moon to raise, so she cut things short.

“So how was it?” He spoke up. She shrugged.

“I still don’t understand why Tia couldn’t do it.”

“Maybe she wanted to teach you a lesson.”

“Yeah, ‘bout what?”

He paused to think.

“About the magic of the season.”

She chuckled.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know... about love, and kindness, and goodwill, and all that junk.”

She shook her head, dismissing the idea, and they walked in silence for a few moments, the breeze running through her mane.

“So?”

“So what?”

“So did you learn anything?”

She laughed.

“Nothing to write a friendship letter about, that’s for sure.”

They laughed together, sharing a warm moment in the twilight.

Later, as she raised the moon, alone at last, she looked down at the glimmering tree, shining even more brightly from her high vantage point.

In that moment of serenity, she stopped to reflect on what had transpired that day.

And really, all she wanted was to go to sleep.

Jinglemas (for The Elusive Badgerpony)

The clock read 12:02 AM as a pink ear strained, listening for any signs of life. Quietly, perhaps the most quietly the filly had ever done anything in her life, Pinkamena Diane Pie pushed back her bedsheets and stepped onto the floor. She tiptoed past her sister’s beds, trying to breath as soundlessly as possible. One noise and it would be over. This mission depended on utmost silence.

“One, two, three, and duck!” Pinkie muttered under her breath, counting the amount of steps needed before she had to crouch down to avoid one of Limestone’s “Annoying sister traps”.

“One, two, skip the squeaky floorboard.” She hopped over a panel of wood, twirling in the air as she did. “Phase one: ‘evade the sisters’ is complete. Now onto phase two.” Pinkie Pie pushed open the bedroom door, poking her head out and looking to her right and left. “All clear.”

The filly lowered herself to the ground and began crawling on her belly down the hallway. She made sure to hold her breath as she passed by her parent’s bedroom, pressing her ear to the door. Loud snoring could be heard from inside.

“Perfect.” She whispered, grinning. “Mama and Papa Pie are down for the night.” Pinkie continued inching her way forward until she reached the top of the stairs. “Phase two: ‘don’t wake the bear’ is done. Now the most difficult stage…” The staircase loomed dauntingly in front of her, riddled with squeaky floorboards. Carefully, Pinkie stood on her back legs and gripped the banister with her front hooves. It was now or never. She swung her legs onto the railing and began sliding, resisting the urge to whoop and holler.

The tricky part came at the bottom. She gripped her front hooves as tightly as she could on the railing, wincing at the faint screeching sound that was emitted. She came to halt inches away from the end of the banister and hopped onto a strategically placed cushion on the floor.

“Wow Pinkie. That was really impressive.” A flat voice coming from halfway up the staircase broke the silence, causing the young filly to whip her head around.

“Maud! What are you doing here?” She hissed, disappointed that she had been caught, but secretly proud that her sister had seen her awesome spy moves.

“I followed you.” Maud shrugged.  

“But you were asleep! I was so quiet!” Pinkie had been sure that her entire family was sleeping.

“I wasn’t asleep yet.” The grey filly slowly made her way down the stairs, somehow not activating a single squeaky floorboard. “I was just laying there quietly.”

“Oh, and I thought I was so sneaky!” The younger Pie sister giggled quietly before tilting her head to the side. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad I was out of bed past midnight, please?”

“I won’t.” Maud peered down at her sister. “What are you doing awake?”

“Well,” Pinkie frowned. “It’s Hearth’s Warming night, and I wanted to stay awake and catch Santa Hooves.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Maud, can I ask you something?” Pinkie scrunched her eyebrows, trotting towards the kitchen without waiting for a response.

“Of course.” Maud followed her sister into the kitchen. She turned the kettle on and turned to Pinkie. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please!” Pinkie climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs, perching right on the edge. “So, the thing I wanted to ask you has been bothering me for the past couple of days.” Maud was silent as she poured hot water into two mugs, placing them on the table. She trotted over the the fridge and grabbed a jug of milk. She put that down next to the mugs and sat on the seat opposite of Pinkie.

        

“What is it?”

“Well,” A troubled expression appeared on the usually cheerful filly’s face. “Limestone told me a couple of days ago… She told me that Santa Hooves isn’t real.” Maud blinked, looking expressionlessly at the nine year old filly.

“Do you think he’s real?” She finally asked, taking a sip of her tea. Pinkie grabbed the other mug, pouring milk into it.

“Of course!” She began dumping spoonfuls of sugar from the bowl on the table into her cup. “Well, I thought I did until Limestone said that ridiculous thing!”

“If it’s ridiculous, why are you doubting yourself?” Maud calmly rested her elbows on the table.

“I don’t know!” Pinkie threw her hooves up. “I mean, how could Santa Hooves not be real? “ She leaned over and grabbed her sister’s face between her little hooves. “But now sneaky Limestone is ruining it! What if he’s not real?”

“Do you think he’s real?” Maud repeated, her cheeks being squished.

“I… I think so?”

“If believing in Santa Hooves makes you happy, then believe he is real.” The grey pony’s face never changed expression. “Maybe it won’t make Limestone happy, so that’s why she doesn’t believe in him. Holder’s Boulder makes her happy, but that doesn’t mean it would do the same for you.” Pinkie was silent for a moment, staring directly into Maud’s eyes.

“So,” She finally said, raising an eyebrow. “so what you’re saying is if I think Santa is real, and it makes me happy, then I should keep believing he exists? No matter what other ponies say? Because we all have different beliefs and opinions, and as long as you’re accepting of others, it doesn’t matter what you believe if it makes you happy?” Maud blinked, and the faintest trace of a smile was visible on her face.

“Yes.”

Pinkie pondered the concept for a moment before grabbing her mug of tea and chugging the entire thing. “You’re the smartest pony I’ve ever met, Maud! I bet you’re even smarter than Princess Celestia!” The grey filly’s smile grew the tiniest bit.

“Happy Hearthswarming, Pinkie Pie.”

        

“And that, Zecora, is one of my most favourite Hearth’s Warming memories ever!” Pinkie Pie threw her arms out, grinning at the confused zebra in front of her. Zecora raised an eyebrow.

“Well, thank you Miss Pie, for retelling your glory, really that was quite a charming story. But I simply was out in the village walking, when you ran up, started, and wouldn't stop talking.”

“Right. Heh, sorry.” Pinkie chuckled sheepishly. “But you were just about to ask what my favourite Hearth’s warming memory was, right?” The zebra laughed.  

“I was merely buying ingredients for my next brew, but you should believe what makes you happy, for it may just be true.”

Apple Cider Caramels (for Midnight Dancer)

Apple Cider Caramels

“I was wonderin’ why you saved all o’ those cider apples,” Apple Bloom said, as she helped her big sister to haul their old cider press out of the storage shed.

“I know we most always use ‘em up for cider season, but there was a bit more’n usual this year, an’ that got me to thinkin’.” Applejack grabbed the tarp that covered the old machine and pulled it away, revealing a rickety-looking press that was mostly warped wood held together by a few rusty iron bands.

“That’s gonna take a heap o’ cleanin’.” Apple Bloom said. “Why cain’t we use the new press?”

“‘Cause that one’s got three filters between the tub an’ the spout, an’ I need juice that’s got all the little tiny bits still in it. Sediment’s what it’s called.”

“For candy? That don’t seem right.”

“You’ll see. Now go find your big brother an’ get him to scrubbin’ on this thing, while I fetch the funnel an’ cider jugs.”

Apple Bloom galloped off toward the western orchard.  Applejack watched her go for a moment before turning back to the old press and putting a hoof on the big lever above the tub. It was a heavy piece of seasoned oak, but it was deeply worn from many years of hard use. Applejack moved her hoof lightly in the groove before giving her head a shake and trotting to the kitchen door.

= = =

“This is just a test batch,” Applejack said to her little sister the next day as she gathered tools and ingredients in the big farmhouse kitchen. “it’s been a good while since I made ‘em, an’ I want to make sure I still remember the recipe right. If’n they come out okay, we’ll make a big heap o’ them to give out at Pinkie Pie’s Hearth’s Warming Eve party.”

“I don’t remember as you ever made caramels, AJ,” Apple Bloom said. “Caramel apples, sure.”

“That’s ‘cause you was just about knee-high to a grasshopper last time,” Applejack replied, from where she was rummaging deep inside one of the big cabinets. “These’re pretty near the next best thing to a caramel apple, an’ a lot less likely to get all stuck in a pony’s mane.”

“You ain’t never gonna let me forget that, are you?” Apple Bloom grumbled.

“Where in tarnation is that candy thermometer?” Applejack backed out of the cabinet. “Well, I reckon’ I can get along without it.”

“I don’t know why y’all don’t just bake a nice pie,” Granny Smith put in from where she sat in her rocker next to the stove. “This here’s a heap o’ fussin’ for some itty-bitty candies.”

“So y’ain’t gonna have none when they’re all done?”

“I didn’t say that!” Granny gave her a stern glare. “Wouldn’t be polite t’ turn my nose up at somethin’ y’all worked so hard at.”

Applejack grinned and turned back to her little sister. “Alright! First, put four cups o’ cider in the pan an’ set it to boilin’. Keep an eye on it an’ stir it once in awhile to make sure it don’t scorch.”

While Apple Bloom put the cider on the stove, Applejack lined a baking pan with two long sheets of criss-crossed parchment and set it aside on the long wooden counter, then turned and looked thoughtfully at the large collection of spice jars on the shelf above.

“‘Bout half a teaspoon o’ cinnamon an’ one of flaky salt,” Applejack said to herself as she spooned out the ingredients and mixed them in a small dish. “Hmn… Granny, did Mooriella deliver that heavy cream this mornin’?”

“It’s in the icebox in the blue jug! She gave us a good dollop o’ unsalted butter, too.”

Applejack poured out a third of a cup of the cream and cut eight tablespoon-sized chunks of the butter. “How’s that cider comin’ along, Apple Bloom?”

“I think it’s gonna all boil away!”

Applejack stepped over to the stove and looked onto the pan. “Naw, it’s fine. That’s what we want it to do. Just watch it until it gets dark and syrupy. When it’s down to ‘bout half a cup or maybe a little less, gimme a holler.”

Applejack went to the pantry where the bulk dry ingredients were kept. “Now for the sugar.”

“Y’all make sure you use the light brown sugar!” Granny called from her chair. “Pack it down in that half cup measure an’ make sure your hoof’s clean first!”

“I thought you’d rather have a pie, Granny.” Applejack said, being careful to hide her grin.

“Don’t you sass me, young’n! I’m the one who taught your mamma that recipe, so I know what I’m talkin’ about! An’ don’t forget the cup o’ regular sugar! I did that once an’ all I got was goo!”

Applejack’s smile faded a bit. “I won’t forget,” she said.

“I think the cider’s ready!” Apple Bloom said.

“All right. Bring it over hear an’ be careful you don’t slosh none of it outta the pan.”

Apple Bloom put the pan down on the counter and Applejack stirred in the butter, cream, and both kinds of sugar. “Okay, now put it back on the stove, but use that side where the heat’s medium. This part’s tricky, so pay attention.”

“Uh-huh,” Apple Bloom nodded vigorously, her red mane bow bobbing up and down behind her head.

“If’n I could find that consarned thermometer, we’d cook this until it got to two-hunnert an’ fifty two degrees.”

“Didn’t need no fancy therma-whatsit in my day!” Granny put in.

“But since we ain’t got one,” Applejack continued, only rolling her eyes a bit, “I got this bowl o’ really cold water here. We just test the mix when it looks right. If’n I put a little bit in the water an’ it firms up an’ you can roll it into a little ball, it’ll be ready. It won’t take much more’n five minutes.”

The first drizzle of brown syrup they put into the bowl stayed limp and began to dissolve, but the second firmed up nicely.

“Okay!” Applejack said, pulling the pan off the stove and holding it for Apple Bloom. “Quick like a bunny, stir in the cinnamon an’ salt!”

Apple Bloom dumped the spices into the pan and mixed them with a few rapid strokes of her big wooden spoon, then Applejack poured the mixture out into the parchment-lined baking pan.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait, li’l sis! It’ll take ‘bout two hours for it to set up proper. Then we use the parchment to lift it outta the pan. If’n we had room in the icebox, it’d go faster but we ain’t in a hurry.”

“Then what? It’s all one big piece!”

“Yep! So, we gotta cut it up into little squares, and there’s a partic’lar way it’s gotta be done. We get a little neutral oil an’ a rag to wipe it onto the knife, see? An’ the most important thing is to put oil on the knife before each an’ every cut! You may think it looks slippery enough for two cuts, but it ain’t, I guarantee it!”

Granny Smith chuckled from her corner by the stove. AJ shot her a look, but Granny ignored it. “Y’all listen to what AJ’s a tellin’ you, y’hear? You plop that mess o’ caramel on the cuttin’ board and go to sawin’ away without you oil that knife good and proper, an’... well, a pony just might drag the whole shebang off the counter an’ onto her hooves! Be a sight bigger mess than one little ol’ caramel apple stuck in your hair!” She outright laughed, then.

Apple Bloom looked up at her big sister, eyes wide. “Did that ever happen?”

“Yup,” was all Applejack said.

= = =

“For the party, we’ll wrap up all the pieces in little squares o’ wax paper, but y’all can just grab yourselves a piece off’n the plate,” Applejack said as she set the cut caramels down on the table after the family had finished their supper.

By some unspoken agreement they all waited until Apple Bloom had popped the first candy into her mouth. Her eyes went wide. “It does taste like a caramel apple! Can I save some for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?”

Applejack smiled at her. “We’ll make a big ol’ batch tomorrow, and there’ll be plenty to share with your friends. We can make enough for your school friends and Ms. Cheerilee, too. They’re a nice thing to share around, this time o’ year.”

“They’re gonna love ‘em! I cain’t wait to see the looks on their faces!” Apple Bloom scooped up another couple of the sweets.

The rest of the Apple family ate their caramels, thinking back to winter holidays long past.

= = =

=

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Royal Appearance (for Petrichord)

A Royal Appearance

One would have to be both blind and deaf not to notice Hearth’s Warming’s approach in Canterlot. The sights were largely the same as the rest of Equestria: snow, wreaths, pine trees, and so forth. But in addition to foals cheering and ambush parties of carolers assaulting unsuspecting ponies with festive cheer, there was another bit of seasonal sound unique to the capital. As the end of the year neared, the eternal whispered gossip of the nobility revolved around the question of which Hearth’s Warming party Princess Celestia would attend.

The Princess was always coy with her consideration, always careful not to show undue favor to this courtier or that. The nobles approved of this. After all, even if they were snubbed from time to time, at least everypony else was as well.

So it was that after the Fall Finale, as the first shipments of snow came trundling out of Cloudsdale, preparations began for the biggest collective social event of the year. While the Grand Galloping Gala was the premiere single soiree, the combined efforts of the noble houses to attract the princess come Hearth's Warming outweighed it in ostentation and expense. Especially expense. Centuries of gradual escalation had made the cost of a true Canterlot Hearth's Warming party ruinous to all but the wealthiest houses, and even they found it prudent to wait a few years before hosting another.

Because of this, House Sanguinius was the favorite to claim Celestia's presence. Canterlot was abuzz with Prince Blueblood XXXVI's choice to host a second party only two years after his last, and even bigger than that one, the better to incorporate his son and heir's cuteceañera.

Of course, that didn't mean that the other nobles were going to lie down and admit defeat. Canapes were purchased by the cartload, tinsel by the mile, Chevaigne by the gallon (Actual Chevaigne, imported from the appropriate region of Prance, as if it needed to be said.) No fewer than seven of Equestria's oldest and most illustrious noble houses threw millions of bits into their parties in the hopes that the consumption would be conspicuous to draw Celestia's notice.

And then came the moment repeated so often that it had become tradition. On the evening of Hearth's Warming Eve, as the bells of Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns struck seven understated notes that still managed to carry through the whole city, every noblepony in every ballroom raised a glass of Chevaigne in hoof, wing, or aura and looked to the main entrance, waiting to see if their efforts would be rewarded.

Celestia considered her destination. The house could not be considered humble. Humble simply wasn't an option in Canterlot real estate, and it certainly couldn't apply to a building with an observatory dome sticking out of the roof like a camel's hump. Still, compared to where she was expected to be tonight, it might as well have been a thatched-roof cottage. She smiled and knocked on the door.

Her eyes widened at the ensuing ruckus on the other side of the door, full of shouts, crashes, and the staccato clopping of little hooves. A few moments later, fuschia magic worked the latch, and the door opened to reveal a wide-eyed filly. Her smile nearly split her face in two as she lunged for Celestia and cried, "You made it!"

The princess smiled as she returned the embrace, a bit of her amusement from the tension of the covert guards scattered across the street and the shadows. "Of course, Twilight," she said.

"Come in! Come in!" Twilight Sparkle halted in her tracks, then turned to face Celestia with an expression of utmost seriousness. "Wipe your hooves first, or Mom will be mad."

"Well, we wouldn't want that." Celestia dutifully wiped her hipposandals on the doormat, taking in the house. Her main impression was one of bookshelves. There was at least one in every room she could see from the entry hall. Plenty of seasonal decorations and other decor, but the house seemed to be as much library as home. Of course, that was how the family liked it.

Twilight nodded once she was satisfied with Celestia's preparations. "I'll go get Smarty Pants." She trotted up the stairs, passing a colt well on his way to stallionhood as he stumbled down them.

"Twilight, get back here!" he cried. "Spike's trying to eat my ear again!" Still looking at the filly, he lurched muzzle first into Celestia's side, only then turning to see what he'd hit. "Sorry, Pri—" Both eyes bugged out as his jaw dropped, sentence forgotten along with the dragon hatchling still savagely gumming his ear.

Celestia smiled down upon him. "I take it you are Shining Armor?"

He nodded dumbly, still slack-jawed.

She nudged his mouth shut with a hoof, then tickled Spike under his chin with a wing until he fell giggling off of his quarry and into her magical grip. "Your sister has told me a lot about you, Shining Armor." Celestia's smile widened a bit. "As has my niece."

Shining's pupils shrank to pinpricks. "Oh," he croaked.

Celestia leaned close and whispered, "Carnations are her favorites." She pulled back and gave him a wink.

"Celestia!" Twilight Velvet walked in from the kitchen, stirring a bowl of something in her magic.

Shining squeaked like a dying rodent. "Mom?"

Velvet laughed.. "Relax, Shiny. Once you've been turned into a houseplant in front of somepony, you feel much more comfortable around her."

"I wouldn't know," Celestia said with a smile. "Still, it's good to see you again, Velvet."

Velvet nodded and watched Shining scoop up Spike and go back upstairs, alternating between giving her a horrified look and gazing at Celestia in awe. Velvet sighed. "Well, he's at the age where he'll be ashamed of me no matter what I do. I might as well earn it." She turned back to the kitchen.

Celestia followed her. Even the kitchen had a shelf for cookbooks, though Velvet seemed to be making her current recipe from memory, dolloping cookie batter out of the bowl and onto a baking sheet. "So," she said softly, "about this apartment on the castle ground you want Twilight to live in."

"Not for several years, Velvet." Celestia sighed. "If I'm right, we'll all be asking a lot of your daughter in the future. I'm not going to take her foalhood away from her."

Velvet glared at her. "We're going to need to talk about these plans and premonitions of yours. As you just said, this is my daughter we're talking about. At the very least, I want to know what you think she's going to deal with."

“I’ve tried telling my student everything ahead of time.” Celestia shook her head, trying to chase away memories that still felt fresh after months. ”It didn’t end well.”

“Lying to your children for their own good is a big part of parenting.” Velvet looked at nowhere in particular. ”Besides, ever since Twilight’s first surge became an article in the Canterlot Journal of Radiology, I’ve known she was going to either save the world or destroy it.” She turned back to Celestia. ”I’ll take anything you can tell me that will make sure it’s the former.”

"I will, Velvet, and soon, but right now I'm intruding enough as it is." Celestia gestured towards the holly bunches on each corner of the bookcase. "This is Hearth's Warming Eve. It should be a time for togetherness, not listening to an old nag's worries."

Velvet chuckled. "You've clearly never spent Hearth's Warming with my Grandma Twinkle." She floated the baking sheet into the oven.

Celestia looked around. "Where is Night Light? I haven't seen a trace of him since I came in."

"We're expecting a visit from the spirit of Puddinghead later. He's putting together the spells that will let him think inside the chimney without leaving soot on the carpet."

"What do you mean?"

Both mares jumped and turned to see Twilight Sparkle looking up at them, a little frown on her muzzle and a stuffed toy on her back. "Why would Daddy need to help the spirit of Puddinghead?"

"To keep the house clean, sweetie," said Velvet, giving Celestia a split-second smirk. "Chancellor Puddinghead never had to clean up after himself. That was Smart Cookie's job."

"Oh." Sparkle frowned a bit longer. "I suppose that makes sense." She turned to Celestia and beamed. "I can't believe you really came!"

Celestia returned the smile. "Twilight, I've only just arrived, and I can honestly say that this is the best Hearth's Warming party I've had in centuries."

Christmas Gifts (for Titanium Dragon)

As Rarity placed the last few presents on the precariously tall pile of neatly wrapped gifts, she gave a quiet sigh of relief and wiped away the slight sheen of sweat that had formed on her brow. She’d just spent the day making, wrapping, and stacking gifts. And even though she hadn’t exerted that much physical strength, she had overtaxed her magic which left her feeling drained. But when she looked at the massive pile of gifts stacked in the foyer of her boutique, a warmth filled her heart that gave her a different kind of energy.

She’d missed out on several hours of work taking her time preparing these gifts, and even though this would cost her countless hours and several sleepless nights to make up, she had absolutely no regrets. How could she? These gifts were for the Canterlot Orphanage. These gifts would go to ponies who had no families, ponies who had never received a gift for Hearth’s Warming Eve in their lives.

 

With a warm smile forming on her muzzle that matched the warmth in her heart, Rarity walked happily into the kitchen and made herself a cup of hot cocoa to drink while she waited for Twilight and Applejack to knock on her door. That  knock came just as Rarity finished her hot cocoa and she quickly navigated her way through the massive mess of presents to let her friends in. When she opened the door both Twilight and Applejack’s mouths dropped open as they saw all the presents crowding the main floor of the boutique.

 

Rarity giggled at their expressions before stepping aside to let her guests in. “Do come in darlings, it’s absolutely freezing out there.” Both mares accepted her invitation, and they continued staring in speechless awe at the piles of brightly-wrapped presents.

 

Twilight’s horn glowed and she picked up one of the presents to read the tag attached to it. “For Princess Celestia’s Canterlot Orphanage.” Twilight lowered the present and looked up at Rarity. “Are you saying the massive order you needed our help to deliver to Canterlot is in fact all these gifts that you made for the orphanage?”

 

Rarity’s cheeks flushed and she nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t entirely truthful with both of you, but I don’t want anypony to know what I’m doing.” Her comment received shocked looks from her two friends.

 

“But Rarity, what you’re doing is amazing!” Twilight exclaimed. “Giving the orphanage gifts so the ponies without families won’t miss out... Why wouldn’t you want anypony to know?”

 

Rarity’s smile grew wider. “Because darling, I’m not interested in gaining extra favor from anypony. The warm feeling that I get in my heart from knowing I’ve made somepony who is less fortunate than I happy on Hearth’s Warming Eve is all the reward I need. So please don’t tell anypony what I’m doing.”

 

Twilight threw her forelegs and wings around Rarity’s body and pulled her into a tight hug, she held the unicorn in her embrace for several moments and when she pulled back Twilight’s eyes were brimming with tears of happiness. “I-I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“There is absolutely no need to say anything, darling. I’m not doing this for praise or recognition, I simply wish to bring joy to the fillies and colts who have no family to spend Hearth’s Warming day with.”

 

Applejack cleared her throat to get Twilight and Rarity’s attention. “Ah hate ta be a grinch on your plans, Rarity, but there is no way we can get all these presents to Canterlot tomorrow morning before the foals wakeup. Even with the cart I bought, and Twilight’s magic, gettin’ the presents to the train station through all this snow, and packed onto the train will take several hours and by then the train will have left.”

 

Rarity’s ears folded back against her head and she sat down on her haunches, her face a mask of despair as she felt the warmth draining from her heart at the thought of all those orphans going another Hearth’s Warming Eve without presents.

 

“NO!” Twilight said, stomping a hoof. “I refuse to let all Rarity’s hard work go to waste. We’re getting these presents to Canterlot one way or another!”

 

“And just how do ya plan on doin’ that?” Applejack asked.

 

A smile formed on Twilight’s muzzle. “I’m going to teleport us to my personal chambers in Canterlot castle. From there we can distribute the gifts to the orphanage.”

 

Rarity gave her friend a doubtful look. “I know your magic is powerful, darling. But teleporting us, not to mention all these presents, to Canterlot does seem a bit much, even for you. No offense.”

 

“Well I’d be lying if I said I was completely confident in my ability to do this, but ever since I became an alicorn I’ve been studying up on long-range teleportation spells. I just need total concentration if I’m to do this successfully.”

 

Rarity and Applejack’s mouths snapped shut and they stared expectantly at Twilight, who drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her horn began glowing brightly with its aura of violet magic, and in a flash of light that left everypony’s vision blurred, the group disappeared from the boutique.

 

Celestia—who’d so far been enjoying a large cup of hot cocoa with her sister Luna in front of a warm fire—was suddenly brought out of her state of relaxation as a flash of bright light blinded her. Both she and Luna were buried beneath a mountain of beautifully wrapped presents, all of which were marked for the Canterlot Orphanage.

 

 

Griffon Scones (for Cosmic Cowboy)

Greta stared at the crumpled note card that lay on the table in the kitchen for what seemed like hours. As she reread the contents of the note for the seventh time, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

A soft wind blew through a hole in the window and ruffled Greta’s feathers. She glanced out, peering through her translucent reflection in the cracked glass, and noticed a pair of griffons working on a nearby cottage. As she watched them patch up a hole in the wall, she smiled slightly.

“Come on, you’ve put this off long enough.”

Greta looked around the room and wondered for a moment why she said that out loud. Gilda wasn’t there. Ever since those ponies left, Greta noticed that Gilda rarely spent any time at home, arriving through the door only to sleep, and sometimes to preen.

Six months, Greta thought, it’s been six months since those ponies left and Gilda started this… thing. Greta stared back out the window and watched as the griffons outside helped each other—the pair rebuilding the house, the tercel helping a hen with her groceries, even the trio of chicks repairing a cart for an elderly griffon—Greta didn’t want to call it a revolution, but something had definitely changed. And it all started with the scones, she thought.

The wind blew through the broken window again, hard enough this time to blow the note card off of the table. Greta gasped and grasped at the card, catching it before it touched the dusty floorboards.

“Okay,” she mumbled. “Flour, sugar, salt, butter, vanilla, cream, eggs.” Her eyes widened as she read the last ingredient. “Eggs?” Greta shuddered for a moment. “Okay, I guess.” She glanced up from the note. “I need to stop talking to myself.”

Greta shook her head, grabbed her satchel, and made her way out the door. As she stood for a moment on the stoop Gilda’s house, she looked down at the key she held in her talons and remembered when Gilda gave it to her.

“I don’t understand. Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because your house is unlivable.”

“But… why now?”

“Because, Greta, to be a friend, one must trust.”

“You… trust me?”

“Well, more than that. I—”

Greta shook her head and bit at her beak. She felt her eyes burn, but instead of giving in to the weakness, she took another breath and tucked the key into her satchel before flying off to the market.

“Hey, Greta!”

Greta stopped mid-flight and fluttered to the ground. In front of her sat three young griffons.

“Gavin… Garrett… Gale… what are you doing here?” she asked as she quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, I was trying to help Mister Gareth with the hole in his roof,” Gavin said.

“But I tracked down the hay and straw,” Garrett added. “And also—”

“I got the mud bricks to patch it together again,” Gale interrupted.

The three young griffons glared at one another. Before they began trading blows, Greta reached in and separated them.

“Boys!” she shouted. “What’s wrong? You all are helping Gareth with his home.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to help the most,” Gavin replied.

“Me, too,” Garrett said.

Greta turned to Gavin. Gavin blushed and nodded his head. Greta looked to each griffon before shaking her head. I don’t get it, she thought, one day, it’s every griffon for themselves. Then suddenly, it’s every griffon wanting to—

“Miss Greta?”

Greta blinked and turned to the trio of griffons in front of her. “Yes?” she asked.

“Thank you,” Gavin replied.

“For what?”

“For helping us remember,” Gale said.

“Remember what?” Greta asked.

“That we as one are more than we as one,” Garrett said as the others nodded.

Greta felt a chill run down her spine. The heft of the key in her satchel suddenly weighed down upon her. She saw herself standing on the stoop of Gilda’s house again.

“I trust you more than any griffon here, Greta.”

“You haven’t spoken to me since you came back from that stupid flight school, Gilda.”

“Things were… different… then. But I want you to know that I always—”

Greta reached up and clasped her claws to her ears and screeched in an attempt to will the images away. A moment later, she realized where she was and opened her eyes. The young griffons were still there, staring at her. Greta shook her claws at the tercels.

“I’m—I’m fine,” she said. “You all just… keep working together.”

Greta gave a half-smile to the griffons and took to flight towards the market. I have to get this right, she thought.

*****

“Yep,” Gertrude said as she weighed out the sugar. “I am the officially sanctioned egg provider for this city. And yes, you do use eggs in scones.”

Greta rubbed the back of her neck and grimaced. “All right, I believe you.” Greta sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve never baked before, and when I saw eggs, I thought… well… you know.”

Gertrude cocked her head to the side. Neither hen spoke for a moment, but then Gertrude broke into a fit of laughter so loud that every griffon in the store turned to look at them. Greta blushed and lowered her head, but was stopped when the older griffon placed a talon on her cheek.

“Oh, my sweet little hennepin,” She cooed. “If it was those eggs I was selling, I’d need the help of every tercel in Griffonstone. And King Grover as my witness, it’ll be a cold day in Tartarus before I end up with any more chicks in my nest.”

Greta couldn’t help but laugh. As she did, however, she felt a sense of unease come over her. She looked around the store. As the looked on, she noticed that the few griffons who were there made extra effort not to bump into one another. There was the occasional squabble over produce, but other than that, Greta noticed that all of the older griffons had changed their demeanor.

“What’s wrong, hennepin?” Gertrude asked.

“Why do you care?”

Greta blurted out the question, realizing too late that her sudden outburst caught the attention of the nearby griffons. She leaned in towards the older hen.

“How did you all manage to change so quickly?” Greta whispered. “How can you all just forget how things were? How did those ponies change Gilda in a day? And how did she manage to get you all to change in a few months?” As she continued to ask questions, the words flew out of her beak faster and faster. “Why is every griffon able to forget and just move on? Why has every griffon suddenly forgotten the value of gold? Why am I the only griffon that isn’t… that isn’t…” Greta heaved a breath and reached into her satchel to pull out her coin purse. “How much is it today?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Twelve coins,” Gertrude replied too sympathetically.

Greta’s gaze narrowed. “That seems really cheap.”

Gertrude shrugged. “There are more important things than gold,” she replied.

“Like what?” Greta asked.

“I’ll answer that!”

Greta saw Gertrude smirk and nod as an old griffon shuffled to the counter. Greta saw the griffon’s false eye and gasped.

“Mister Gruff?”

“It’s about pride,” Gruff said. “Pride about who we are. My granddaughter learned something from those ponies. And she’s been working nonstop to restore Griffonstone to its former glory.” Gruff puffed out his chest. “To the way things used to be.”

“I remember the old days, too,” Gertrude replied. “It’s a shame none of you younger griffons understand.”

“But I… I want to understand,” Greta said.

“All you need to remember is that we as one are more than we as one.”

“What does that even mean?” Greta asked.

Gertrude and Gruff exchanged glances.

“We can’t tell you,” Gertrude replied. “It’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

“That’s the problem with some of you,” Gruff added. “We remember the time before, and the young chicks aren’t old enough to think the way you do.”

Greta glanced around the shop at the older griffons walking around. Gilbert used to charge a claw and a leg to help with expeditions, Glinda used to charge for her blankets by the thread, Gilda used to—

Greta shook her head and backed away from the counter, tossing the coinage onto the surface before flying out of the store with her goods.

“You can do it,” Greta muttered. “You can do it right. You have to do this right.”

*****

“Okay, mix the dry stuff basically,” Greta said, placing everything in a bowl as she set a pot on the stove. “Melt the butter and cream, and then—” Greta grimaced once more as she looked at the eggs. She sighed, cracked them open, and put them into another bowl. “Beat the eggs.”

Once each part of the concoction had been mixed, Greta mashed the mixture into small balls, being sure to sprinkle vanilla oil over them. I remember Gilda doing this part, she thought as she pressed the balls into triangle shapes before placing them onto a pan.

Greta reached down and opened the door to the cast iron stove, but before she set the pan down, she froze. Inside, the embers of coals glowed dangerously, their orange light burning into her eyes. Greta shivered, tossed the pan inside, and slammed the door shut. She reached up and set the timer for thirty minutes.

Gilda’s going to be out for a while, Greta thought as she looked down at her talons. The scones… the scones… Greta remembered the way Gilda’s talons clutched hers as the strangely friendly griffon placed the scone into her own claw. Your talons were always chalky, Greta thought as she traced a talon over her claw, chalky and smooth.

Greta looked around the house—dust was settled everywhere and dishes were stacked up to the ceiling. She thought about the griffons she had seen that day and her beak curved up into a tiny smile. Soon, she was busy sweeping, dusting, and doing dishes.

“Gilda, why has it been so long since we’ve done this?”

“Because you always peck at my chest too playfully when I let you rest on top of me.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Greta, what’s wrong?”

“You… you’re becoming better than the rest of us.”

“No I’m not.”

“Then what do you call what you’re doing?”

“I’ve said it many times, Greta. We as one are more than we as one.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“You will, hennepin. You will.”

Greta finished folding a set of scarves just as the timer rang. She flew as quickly as she could from Gilda’s nestroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. The scent of vanilla already filled the kitchen, and Greta’s feathers ruffled as she smiled with pride at what she had done. Finally, she thought, I can do something for you, Gilda.

Greta opened the oven door, but her smiled quickly faded when she saw what was inside.

“No…” she muttered. “No, no, no!”

The moment she saw her creation, Greta knew there was something wrong. Gilda’s scones were soft, puffy, and had tiny crinkles on the top. Greta’s scones looked like stones. Greta’s scones felt like stones. The griffon slowly took the failed dessert out of the oven, the scones clattering as her trembling talons clasped the pan.

“She is better than you,” Greta mumbled as she held the pan over the trashcan. “Every griffon can do it better than you.”

Greta’s lip twitched as she dropped the tray into the trashcan. She jumped when she heard the front door slam and was unable to hide what she had done to the griffon that now stood at the kitchen entryway.

“Greta?” Gilda asked as she brushed off the snow from her shoulders. “What are you up to?”

Greta tried to think of a response, but when none came, her eyes simply began to water. She felt her shoulders shake and her legs tremble. Her wings flapped uselessly as she fell to the floor, sobbing madly as she curled into a ball. She rocked back and forth, jerking away as Gilda tried to grab onto her.

“Stop it,” Greta cried. “Stop it stop it stop it!” Greta tried to keep away from Gilda, but she felt the larger griffon’s talons wrap around her and refuse to let go until her sobbing ceased. “Every griffon… is… better.”

“What in the name of King Grover are you talking about?” Gilda asked.

Greta sniffled and pointed to the trashcan. “I—I followed your recipe exactly.” Greta’s trembling talon moved to the crumpled note card on the floor. “B-but I can’t even do that right.”

She watched as Gilda leaned over and glanced at the note card. “Oh, this was written before Pinkie Pie told me about baking powder,” Gilda said absentmindedly.

Greta couldn’t help but laugh pitifully through her sobs. She felt Gilda’s feathers bristle against her own—the way Gilda’s beak rubbed up and down her cheek, the way Gilda’s talons gently scratched her back—and couldn’t help but bend into the griffon’s ministrations.

“Even the young tercels are able to be good,” Greta muttered as she buried her beak into Gilda’s chest. “Gruff and Gertrude said I have a problem.”

“You cleaned the house,” Gilda replied, as though ignoring what Greta had just said. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t anything,” Greta replied. “You’re never home.” She paused. “I just… saw that it was something you had neglected.”

Greta leaned in and felt the warmth of Gilda’s chest on her face. She closed her eyes and concentrated so that she could hear Gilda’s heartbeat. It’s beating faster, she thought as she wrapped her talons around Gilda’s neck.

“So you finally understand?” Gilda asked.

“Understand what?”

“That we as one are more than we as one?”

As if hit by lightning, Greta saw the images of everything she had seen that day: the griffons fixing the house; Gavin, Garrett, and Gale helping Gareth; Gertrude and Gruff going on about the old times.

“Greta,” Gilda whispered. “Everything you did today, … was for me?”

Greta felt her cheeks burn. She closed her eyes and nodded. “But I failed.”

Greta tried to shy away from Gilda, but she felt herself drawn even closer into the griffon’s embrace.

“You didn’t,” Gilda replied. “You—”

“I failed!” Greta shouted, pulling away from Gilda. “Even the chicks understand it! The elder griffons tried to tell me, but I ignored them! And now this.” Greta shook her head. “I just—I just wanted to see you happy. You’ve been doing so much for Griffonstone since those ponies came, but I saw that you weren’t doing anything for yourself.”

Gilda gently guided Greta towards the table. They both took a seat, Gilda never pulling her claw away from Greta’s. Greta simply looked down at her claws and slowly rubbed a talon along one of Gilda’s.

“It’s strange,” Greta continued. “How the young and old ones were able to change so easily. But then griffons like me still—”

Greta felt a claw on her cheek again. She lifted her eyes and saw that Gilda’s eyes were watering just like hers.

“There are no other griffons like you, Greta,” Gilda whispered.

“I just thought that if I could make you happy, then seeing you happy would make me happy, too.”

Tears fell from Greta’s eyes, rolling down her beak until they fell off of the tip onto the floor. Her tongue tasted salt. Her entire world blurred into a mishmash of colors until she couldn’t clearly see Gilda anymore.

“That’s what it means, doesn’t it?”

Greta blinked and her vision cleared just in time to see Gilda reach over and press her warm beak against her own. Greta leaned into the kiss until both hens’ chests touched. She felt their lungs breathing as one. Then she felt their hearts beat in sync.

Two hearts becoming one.

Becoming more than just one.

An Old Classic (for Morning Sun)

The long-abandoned Castle of the Two Sisters did not see much use despite the efforts of the recently crowned Princess of Friendship and company to revitalize its interior. The myriad tapestries had only seen a cursory mending, and many a stone still lay haphazardly atop its fellows. Moonlight streamed in through the still ruined ceiling, casting the former royal hall in a eerie enough light to dissuade even the most daring of ponies from venturing within. It was an altogether horrible place in which to suddenly find oneself summoned...

...and perfect for the odd discreet midnight meeting.

“I suppose you four are wondering why I've assembled you before me on this, the eve of such an important day.”

All eyes instantly were drawn to the alicorn in the room.

Princess Luna strode into the irregular shaft of moonlight, resplendent in her obsidian royal regalia. She met the eyes of each of her summoned guests in turn before resuming her address.

“There is a task that must be accomplished, and the four of you have proven to be masters at your craft and most importantly...”

Luna turned to one side and paused to further emphasize her next words.

“...adept at working with one another under the most demanding of deadlines.”

Facing her conspirators once more, Luna laid her demands on the table.

“Before each of you is a folder containing the details outlining your part in this job. You will each be assigned an outfit of my Lunar Guardsponies, whom I've commanded to follow your orders. However, I will tolerate no wanton deviation from our goal. You will be expected to obey these instructions I've provided you to the letter and coordinate your efforts like the professionals you are. Am I understood?”

For a single, precious second it seemed as though there would be no dissension, but to her irritation a single hoof hung in the air. Luna, barely hiding her annoyance recognized the one among them brazen enough to question her.

“Speak your piece.”

A calm, almost lyrical voice cut through the tension of the night as the hoof's owner ambled toward Luna.

“Well, Princess, if you really wanted to discourage wanton deviation...”

As the mare speaking entered the moonlight, her fellows were suddenly beset by a disturbing amount of dread. They had all been summoned independent of each other, brought from their homes or workplaces to this dreary castle via the Princess's teleportation spell. They'd not seen hide nor hair of each other since they'd arrived, but this mare...she was in possession of an uncomfortable air of familiarity in each of their respective memories...

That...and a dangerous amount of pink.

“...Then why invite me to this party?”

Silence reigned in the ramshackle royal chamber.

Then, despite herself...

Luna smiled.

Princess Celestia stood on her balcony overlooking the city of Canterlot. Dawn was about to break, and Luna had yet to join her. While normally a cause for alarm, Celestia paid it no mind. She'd noticed Luna had been avoiding eye contact with her whenever they saw each other for the past few weeks, a sure sign that Luna didn't want Celestia to know something. Given that Hearth's Warming Day was about to start, Celestia hadn't a doubt in her mind that Luna had some kind of surprise in store for her.

It was with this thought firmly in mind that she didn't bat an eye when a familiar spell started to take shape around her.

Oh, this was new.

If she recognized the dimensions of the room beyond the cagel she'd been teleported into, this was one of the dungeon cells from their old castle! She could only imagine that the sound of the pipe organ was Luna's doing as well. Oh, she must've been taking lessons but was too embarrassed to tell Celestia or perhaps for fear that it would tip her off to this plan of Luna's.

Oh, and speak of the Nightmare!

She'd heard from Twilight's old reports that Luna pulled this sort of trick for the foals once or twice on Nightmare Night.

Of course Celestia made sure to show her “pleading terror” expression for Luna's sake. It certainly wouldn't do for her to think that all the effort she must've expended for this was wasted.

And bravado and bravado.

And monologue and monologue.

And posturing and posturing.

Really, after a millennium of repelling attempts at conquest and coup alike, the paperwork was scarier than this, but she made sure to tremble for her sister.

Luna had certainly gone all out for this prank. She even brought in the Elements to help with the whole charade. While Celestia was in no real danger, as with a touch of her horn, she could raise the temperature of any material to the point of either melting or combustion, she made a show of clinging onto the hope of her rescue.

Oh, Pinkie, you'll hit your head on the ceiling if you keep bouncing so h-

What?!

A floorless cage, that had been suspended above a hatch in the ceiling, just fell from Pinkie's tug on the hatch's tassel.

This is very new.

And gloating and gloating.

And...hmm. For putting on an act the other Elements are...quite convincing. If Celestia didn't know better, she probably would've believed those looks of hurt and betrayal on their faces.

Of course she knew well the kinds of masks a pony can don when the need arises.

So when their new cage was lifted back up through the hole it dropped through, along with the section of the floor it had embedded itself into thereby trapping the other Elements and carrying them away, Celestia tried her best to look sufficiently mortified.

Then “Nightmare Moon” left Celestia “to her misery”, and Pinkie Pie followed behind her, spewing all sorts of nonsensical ideas for running the country under an eternal night. When the two were about to leave her field of vision...

...Pinkie winked at her...

...and then blew a raspberry.

What was that supposed to mean?!

Is it a signal that Pinkie has a plan of some sort?

Is it a playful jab at the perceived predicament that Celestia is in?

Neither? Both?

What?!

Celestia could usually read most ponies' moods and intentions with practiced ease, but Pinkie Pie continuously evaded all explanation, even by her best psychological experts.

Wait...what was she thinking about before?

Oh. Right. “Captured”.

Celestia touched her horn to the door of her cell.

“I believe this farce has gone on long enough.”

In seconds, the only obstacle to her escape had been reduced to a slightly sweet-smelling slag.

“Alright, let's not waste any time.”

Celestia reached out for the sun and moon with her magic, and she found them easily, but when she began to pull the moon down below the horizon, making way for her sun to start the day, it resisted her gentle tug.

“Oh, so that's how it's going to be.”

She concluded that, since “Nightmare Moon” hadn't gone to the trouble of actually banishing her, had removed the use of the Elements from play, and had only matched the effort Celestia used to usher in the day in her resistance; then it was expected of her to break out of this prison on her own, soar up into the sky, where her connection to the heavens would be naturally stronger, and force the coming of the day, “saving” her subjects from “Nightmare Moon” once again and starting the Hearth's Warming Day festivities.

Well, if there's one thing Celestia was, it would be that she was punctual.

Now, she knew within moments of opening her eyes that the darkened dimensions of her cell room matched with one of the few above-ground dungeon floors of their old castle.

She also knew that she'd be expected to teleport herself out into the open air above the castle, taking the fastest route that would ensure victory.

But where, pray tell, was the fun in that?!

With a -CRUNCH!- Celestia tore through a wall she knew led to open air, and as she expected, she was immediately set upon by Luna's guards. Ones Celestia herself had employed and trained in anticipation of her return. She knew exactly what they were each capable of and twice over how to outpace them.

While she was flying about, Celestia happened to notice that certain shapes in the darkness did not match up to her memories of the environment outside the old castle. There was no chasm, no bridge, and the forest looked less...wild.

By the time she successfully lost her pursuers, Celestia decided that enough was enough. Too few things were adding up, and there was no reason to further delay her from returning the light of day.

Except for the “Nightmare” flying out to meet her.

And jeering and jeering.

And insults and insults.

And...oh sod this!

“You know, Luna, I think I've had just about enough of your little prank this year. It's become quite tiresome.”

“Tell me, Celestia, was it tiresome to rule Equestria for so long unopposed?”

Celestia was struck. She didn't know which had thrown her off more: the bolt of magic or the barbed comment.

“Your failure to best me when we fought; does it still burn you up inside?”

Two more shots from her blind spot hammered Celestia in her chest. While the singe mark wouldn't last forever, the jab had sent her reeling.

“I was always the better fighter between the two of us, sister, and the only reason I was not victorious in our last encounter no longer stands in my way!”

Celestia was floored. Was this truly happening? Was Luna...?

As she tried to pick herself up, she felt Nightmare Moon's magic yank her back into the air.

“Now, Celestia! Tell! Me! Of! Your! SUFFERING!”

Celestia could withstand the assault no longer. Her face fell.

“I...I don't...”

And then there was no stopping it.

“I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU AGAIN!!”

The hold was broken, and Celestia unleashed everything she'd been holding back.

“You've only just come back to me! I tried to be there for you as often as I could, but I knew our old foes were so soon to return, and at the same time there was the nobles...and Twilight...and...no. There's no excuse for this! It's been over a thousand years, and I still made that same, stupid mistake! And it tears me up to think I could've avoided this if only I done more, delegated more.”

Celestia was lashing out blindly, and every strike missed its mark.

Nightmare Moon's next move, however, flew straight and true.

“Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?”

Celestia flinched, and the force of the blow sent her careening down into a collision with the castle's thick outer walls.

For a moment, she just laid there, emotionally spent, letting the right side of her body get acquainted with the floor. As she stared blankly out the hole she crashed through, she started to recognize the vague outlines of the landmarks in the surrounding forest through the darkness.

“Wait, that's not the Everfree Forest, that's Whitetail Woods.”

In light of this new revelation, a new puzzle emerged.

“But...this is the castle...our old castle! How?”

Celestia, on a whim, took a closer look at the wall she crashed through.

“What? Is this...really...?”

Then she took a closer smell.

“This. This is gingerbread!”

And all of the gears ground to a halt.

“If I'm not mistaken...”

Celestia looked up and back out of the hole to see Luna, the smile of the moon setting behind her.

“I believe the word you use is: Gotcha!”

Celestia balked.

What?

Her attention captured suddenly by the sound of hooves in the adjoining hallway, Celestia righted herself, somewhat mechanically, in anticipation of company.

What she did not anticipate, however, was the arrival of all of the Elements, plus a stallion, a griffon and a mule, the latter three of which she suddenly recognized from a baking competition she hosted recently.

Before anypony else could get in a word about the absurdity of the whole debacle Celestia had just experienced, Pinkie Pie let out an exuberant shout.

“Happy Hearth's Warming Day, Your Highness!”

Celestia paused. For the barest of moments, she was unsure.

Then she heard the gentle pattering of Luna alighting on the iced gingerbread floor beside her.

“I hope I didst not go too far, sister?”

Celestia regarded her sister once more.

As she reflected on the whole ordeal, she realized that she felt...perhaps a little bit lighter.

So it was that after a long moment...

Celestia smiled.

“It was perfect, Luna, you finally got me.”

Celestia wrapped a wing around her sister. Then the Elements, and even the bakers joined in the group hug.

“Happy Hearth's Warming.”

No Place Like Home For The Holidays (for TurnWrongTheStranger)

        Carousel Boutique was quiet, dark and cold.  It bothered the girls immensely, since Rarity was off doing a fashion show so close to Hearth’s Warming.  Sweetie Belle enjoyed the time with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, of course, but with the snow on the ground and no sister in sight, it was obvious she was feeling lonely.

        The show preparations had started at the beginning of the month, and Rarity had sworn up, down and sideways that she would have been back in two weeks.  At the very worst, she’d be back in Ponyville by the eighteenth.

        It was now the twentieth, and still no Rarity.  Twilight had gotten a letter from her the day before about unforeseen delays, but it was still worrying.  That morning, Rainbow Dash had awoken with a plan.  A devious, wonderful plan.  But she knew she’d need help.  As everypony knew, a Hearth’s Warming without all of them together was no Hearth’s Warming at all!

        A zip to Applejack to tell her the idea and gather the trio of troublemakers, who were all too happy to help, and then everyone had their missions.  AJ had some old decorations and would call in favors from the rest of the Apple clan.  Big Mac would do the heavy lifting as needed.  Apple Bloom would make for Fluttershy’s.  Sweetie Belle would be going to Pinkie, who would coordinate with Applejack to get the decorations ready and keep things low-key for a change.  Scootaloo, as the fastest of the three, would be notifying Twilight and Spike on her scooter.

        And what would Rainbow Dash be doing? Getting inside the boutique, warming the place up and making room.  This was going to be more than a one-day job, and they needed room to work, and warmth to make things comfortable.  A quick search revealed a key hidden under the door mat.

        “Really, Rarity? You need a less-obvious place to stash your spare…” Dash muttered to herself as she opened the door.  The cold wind almost blasted the door out of her hooves, but she caught it before it slammed into the wall.  A flick of a switch and the lights came on.  She saw to it the door would remain unlocked for the others, and went looking for the heater.

        Half an hour of looking later, and she’d found and lit the pilot light with the attached flint and striker, with only a few singed spots to show for it.

        “Hokay, where do I start…” she asked herself, rubbing her hooves and looking around, trying to get a mental map.  The bell above the door jingled and her attention was drawn to the arrival of Twilight, Spike and Scootaloo, with Applejack and Apple Bloom behind them.

        “Hey girls, glad you could make it!” Dash said, giving Scoots a hug and a grin.

        “Hi Dash! So, Scootaloo mentioned something about wanting to surprise Rarity?” Twilight asked, looking around and hanging up her winter gear while Spike ran for the boiler room to get it working faster, already shivering.

        “Yeah, that’s the plan… look, I’m not good with all this mushy stuff, but it’s not right without all of us here.  You mentioned that Rares sent a letter saying she’d be delayed a couple more days, but she’d be back before Hearth’s Warming Eve, right? I figure with your planning, the speed and aerial stuff from me, Fluttershy and Scoots, the stamina from AJ and Bloom, Big Mac for the heavy stuff, Pinkie to cover us for supplies and Sweetie for the technical stuff, knowing what Rarity likes, I think we can make the Boutique really nice and cozy and perfect for when she gets back.  No worries about gifts, no having to decorate, just being able to relax and enjoy the time together with zero stress.  Or, at least, with as little stress as Rarity ever gets to.”

        “Wow…” came the quiet response from the doorway, the bell barely ringing as Fluttershy opened the door with a smile, “you’ve really thought this through, Rainbow Dash.”

        Dash, for her part, shrugged and looked a little sheepish.  “I know Rarity and I are as different as could be, but… she’s still a friend.  I figured this is the least I could do, but I know I can’t do it alone.”

        “Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s get started!” Pinkie suddenly declared, popping out from behind a marrequin.  Only long-ingrained habit kept the others from jumping in surprise.

        The girls shared a look and a smile as Big Mac came trotting up, pulling a cart laden with decorations.

*        *        *

        Rarity stepped off the train and onto the platform with a sigh, grateful that the wood had been cleared of all the snow.  Looking out into Ponyville proper, walkways and paths were shoveled and salted.  Her modeled dresses and accoutrements were retrieved and her magic wrapped around everything, ready to haul everything halfway across town to the Boutique.  Even if it was going to be cold and dark and possibly a little musty from being shut up for so long, it was still going to be nice to be home.  She only hoped Sweetie Belle had stayed out of trouble.

        She was barely off the platform and on the path when she heard heavy hooffalls coming her way, and the large form of Big Mac rounding a corner and angling straight for her, ignoring the snow clinging to his fetlocks.

        “Big Macintosh! Wonderful to see you again, have things been quiet here while I’ve been gone?” she called out as he came closer.

        “Eeyup” he answered, plucking a harness off his back and situating himself to pull Rarity’s dresses.

        “Oh! You don’t have to do that!” she said quickly.

        “Eenope.  Want to.  Have somethin’ fer ya” Mac said shortly, settled in and starting to pull.  Rarity took up the rest of her things, quietly relieved for the lesser burden on her magic.  Then his words hit her brain.

        “You have something for me? what is it?” she inquired.  Mac smiled slightly.

        “It’s a surprise.  Gotta wait” he said enigmatically.  Rarity pursed her lips, frowning, but she decided she could be patient.

        Five minutes of trotting saw the Boutique come into view.  And then she realized the lights were on.  More lights than she had.  And some were twinkling.  She glanced over at Big Macintosh, who was unable to hide the smile any longer.

        “Just what’s going on?” she asked.

        “You’ll see” he answered, almost in a sing-song tone.  She saw her Spikey-wikey waving at her from the window, and turning his head to say something.  There was a flurry of movement, and the door opened to a very seasonally-dressed Sweetie Belle waving at her happily.

        “Welcome home Rarity!” she called, grinning massively.  That kind of smile meant something wonderful had happened, or that she was trying to hide from trouble.  Usually the latter.

        “Sweetie Belle… have you behaved yourself?” Rarity asked suspiciously as Big Mac preceded her into the Boutique.

        “Yeah! C’mon, you’ll really like what we did!” her little sister squeaked.

        Rarity stepped inside… and gasped, her magic winking out in shock.  Twilight caught them with her own field and carried them into storage for later, grinning.  Everywhere Rarity looked was the signs of the holidays.  Ribbons from the lights to all corners of the Boutique.  Lights surrounding the windows in a lovely chase sequence.  Wreaths adorning her marrequins and hanging from the free hooks around the workspace.  Every place that could functionally be decorated without interfering with work, or could be easily moved if need be, was covered.

        “This is… gorgeous!” she cried, “you all did this for me?”

        “Well, we all lended a hoof here and there, but the real idea mare fer this was Rainbow Dash.  We just helped out” Applejack answered.  Rarity blinked, then again, then craned her neck up to look at a suddenly-blushing Dash.

        “Why?” Rarity blurted out, then covered her mouth with a hoof in horror.  Dash landed, still blushing furiously.

        “Well… you’re our friend, Rarity.  I just wanted to do something nice, and couldn’t do it solo, even as awesome as I am.  It ain’t Hearth’s Warming without you, y’know?” she admitted.

        “Friends make the holiday brighter” Twilight observed, and Spike grinned.

        “You can say that again!” he said happily.  Twilight shared a look with Pinkie, who was trying not to giggle herself to death, and couldn’t resist.

        “Friends make the holiday brighter!” she repeated, making Spike groan and Pinkie and Fluttershy break out into giggles along with the Crusaders.

        “Well, I for one am very, very wonderfully surprised by all of this, and… I don’t know how to repay you all” Rarity said, stepping closer to Dash.

        “Just as long as you enjoy yourself and you don’t have to worry about anything stressful for a while, that’s all we really want.  You work too hard for your own good sometimes” the cyan mare stated, Rarity giving a rueful smile in return.

        “I can certainly attest to that… as for relaxing, I can certainly do so, now” she said, and hugged her tightly, “thank you, so very much.”

        Dash put her wings around Rarity and hugged her back with a smile.  “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Rarity” she said quietly.

        “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Rainbow Dash.”

        Outside, the snow was gently falling, and within the Carousel Boutique, the festivities began in earnest.

Family and Friends (for pertelote345)

Family and Friends

Rarity sighed and flipped the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. She watched through the fogged glass doors of her boutique as fillies and colts, many wearing hats, scarves and saddles designed by hers truly, played in the snow under the watchful eyes of their parents. The grey overcast evening sky was not as depressing as one might imagine when it had granted the foals a day off school to go play. White flakes gently floated downwards, and the foals attempted to catch them on their tongues.

The last day before she closed for the holidays had come and gone without much fanfare, and now she was left to put away her winter stock and begin planning and creating her new spring line. She had been very carefully observing the trends and how they were going, and she was confident that her airy and elegant new designs would win the hearts of ponies all around. Yes, this holiday season promised to be a productive one.

So why did she feel so lethargic?

Despite her assurances that she would throw herself into her work immediately and design the perfect new outfits, Rarity honestly wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed and stay there until Hearth’s Warming was over. The boutique seemed cold and unfriendly, despite the cheerful music and warm fire she had in the background. Every sound seemed to echo, and Rarity couldn't help but feel desperately alone.

She turned back to the fillies and colts playing outside. It didn't take long for her to spot Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, but Sweetie Belle was nowhere to be seen. Of course, that was to be expected. Sweetie Belle had been spirited away to Fillydelphia by her parents for the holidays. Rarity had insisted upon staying behind, given that her parents only had enough bits to take one of them along. Rarity had claimed that she needed to work on her designs anyway, and had seen them off with a big smile.

Now she was regretting that decision. She should have saved her own bits and gone along. Without the ball of warmth, excitement and destruction that was Sweetie Belle, the boutique felt too big. It wasn't meant for just one pony to be in all alone. Even Opal wasn't enough company for Rarity, especially at this time of year when ponies were supposed be spending time with their families.

Rarity sighed again and sat down at one of her workbenches. She wrapped a blanket around herself and lazily drew a quill towards herself. Half-heartedly, she began doodling a potential new design, only to crumple up the page and toss it into the wastebin. She knew instinctively that she wouldn't get anything done tonight. But Hearth’s Warming Eve was tomorrow, and she would be spending that and the day after eating and lounging about. She had to at least make a start of her work.

Once more she put quill to parchment and tried to come up with something. But her quill wouldn't move. It was as though it was frozen. Rarity groaned and smacked her head down on the workbench. She knew what this was. A curse so terrible no designer dared speak its name lest it strike them next: artist’s block. There was no point in wasting time and energy trying and failing to come up with something tonight. It simply wasn't going to happen. She might as well begin her lonely Hearth’s Warming now.

Putting away the quill, ink, and parchment, Rarity trotted over to her fireplace with a romance novel levitating in her grasp, blanket still tangled around her. She curled up on the floor, opened the book, and began to read. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. Rarity turned her head and glanced over at the window. Briefly, the yellow face of Apple Bloom looked back at her, but then she looked away and scampered off.

Thinking nothing of it, Rarity returned to her novel. After only a few pages, the words began to blur, and Rarity found herself reading the same line over and over again, her mind elsewhere. She wondered what Sweetie Belle and her parents were doing right now. Was Sweetie playing in the snow like her friends? Or were they all huddled by the fire in whatever hotel they were staying at, sipping hot chocolate and having a good time?

Whatever they were doing, it was almost certainly better than what Rarity was doing. She sighed once more. She was doing a lot of that today. She wasn't getting anywhere with her designs, and she was entirely too distracted to read her book. This night was not working out for her in the slightest. It seemed the only course of action for Rarity was to go to bed and hope that this depressing and lonely holiday would be over soon.

Rarity slowly opened her eyes and pulled back her sleeping mask. She barely stifled a most unladylike yawn as she rolled over in bed to check her clock. Half eleven. She'd overslept, but what did it matter? The boutique was closed, and there was nopony around to notice. She could have slept for the whole day and it wouldn't have mattered.

She had considered spending the holiday with one of her friends, but Twilight had returned home to visit her parents, as had Pinkie and Rainbow. Fluttershy spent most of her holidays alone in her cottage amongst her animal friends, and Rarity wouldn't want to intrude on that. Applejack was spending the holiday amongst her own family, and Rarity knew from hearsay that they took their traditions and family very seriously. Yet another thing Rarity wouldn't want to intrude upon. So it seemed she was alone this Hearth’s Warming.

Let this be a lesson for me, she thought. Next time your family is going on a trip for the holidays, simply bite the bit and pay for your own ticket rather than endure this heartache and boredom.

With nothing better to do, Rarity propped herself up on her bed with the intention of reading the day away. The hours slowly whiled away as Rarity read through her novel, savouring each page of the thrilling romance between a naive young mare and a dark, mysterious changeling drone masquerading as a shady businesspony. Getting some rest had certainly improved her focus, but Rarity’s mind still wasn't entirely on the book.

At around one o'clock, Rarity’s stomach finally got the better of her and she got up to make herself a late brunch. A few eggs, some toast and a nice glass of apple juice should do the trick. While she was putting butter on the toast, somepony knocked on the door. Rarity snorted. Couldn't they see she was closed? Still, she must be polite even as she turned this pony down.

“Coming!” she called, in a tone of forced cheerfulness. She switched off the stove, put her toast down, and trotted towards the door. To her surprise, the pony on the other side was not simply a passerby who couldn't read, but Applejack.

“Oh, hello, darling,” said Rarity, a genuine smile on her face. “What brings you here? I would have thought that you would be spending the holiday alongside your family.”

Applejack smiled. “Hey there, sugarcube. Yer right I'm spendin’ these few days with my family, but I thought I'd invite you over for the holidays,” she said.

Rarity’s eyes widened. “Moi? But Applejack, dear, I'm sure that your family has already planned extensively for today and tomorrow, and my inclusion would only be an extra part in a well-oiled machine, so to speak.”

Applejack smiled once more. “Extra parts only make our operation run smoother, trust me. Come on over. We’ve got room for ya, I promise.”

“Well, if you insist…” said Rarity with a growing grin. “Allow me a few moments to gather myself and I shall be right over.”

Rarity and Applejack walked alongside one another through the snow-covered streets of Ponyville. Upon Rarity’s back was a set of ornate saddlebags filled with her overnight supplies, as well as a needle and thread with which to cobble together a few gifts. Rarity and the rest of her friends had already exchanged gifts at Pinkie’s Hearth’s Warming party, but if she was going to impose on the Apple family she couldn't very well show up empty-hoofed, now could she?

“So, Applejack, if I may,” said Rarity.

“What's on yer mind?” asked Applejack.

“May I ask what brought this about? Not that I am not grateful of course, but what inspired you to invite me to come and spend time with you?”

Applejack chuckled. “Apple Bloom saw you through the windows of the boutique last night. She said ya looked lonely ‘cause Sweetie Belle ain’t around, and Big Mac suggested we invite you over. Honestly, I think that stallion’s got a crush on ya. Don't tell him I told you though!”

“Really?” said Rarity. “I shall have to give him something extra special then.”

Applejack laughed. “Ya just might!”

Rarity joined the laughter for a moment, but then stopped abruptly. “In all seriousness, darling, I do sincerely thank you for allowing me to come and spend the holiday with you. It's certainly preferable to my original plan of lazing about and eating too much food.”

“Yer very welcome. Nopony should have to spend this time of year alone. Hearth’s Warming is a time for spendin’ with family. And, do ya remember when the Flim Flam Brothers came around and I said y’all were honorary family members? Well, I meant it. Yer always welcome around the farm normally, so why should today and tomorrow be any different?” said Applejack.

She looked up at the grey sky. “And sometimes, it's good to visit and let a friend know that somepony is thinkin’ about ‘em, and that they ain’t alone.”

“Indeed it is,” said Rarity, also looking at the sky. “Indeed it is.”

A Rarity (for Denim_Blue)

A Rarity

Apple Bloom, hooves shod in thick winter boots, trotted merrily down the lane from Sweet Apple Acres towards town. Snuggling deeper into her scarf, she let her eyes roam Ponyville. While the spring, summer, and fall were the busiest and arguably most fun times of year for the Apple family, winter held a special magic in Apple Bloom’s heart.

The town was coated with snow, as yet undisturbed at this early hour by any playing ponies, and gorgeous, clear icicles dangled from the bare trees as if they had swapped their gaudy fall dresses for icy, diamond finery. She let out a contented breath, smiling at the visible steam rising from it. It was quiet, peaceful, and the sun was only just starting its trek above the horizon.

Of course, Apple Bloom then found herself thrown backwards into the snow of the lane, the weight of her small unicorn friend deceptively higher than one would assume. While pondering how she had failed to notice Sweetie Belle’s imminent arrival, four orange hooves landed solidly around her head, sinking into the snow. Both new arrivals grinned, then took a deep breath and chorused, “Apple Bloom!”

Pushing her friend from her gently, Apple Bloom stood, twisting this way and that to brush the snow off the back of her jacket and shivering as some snuck down her neck. “What the hay, girls? I was enjoyin’ the sunrise.” The grins of the other two blew away the last of her grumpiness, and she beamed right back. “So, what’s goin’ on?”

Small wings buzzing, Scootaloo pointed towards Ponyville. “We’re going to meet Spike at the castle. He’s trying to find the best Hearth’s Warming present for Rarity,” Scootaloo stopped for a second to roll her eyes, “and he wants our help!” She struck a triumphant pose, ruined only by the fact that she was finally starting to shiver. “C’mon, let’s head over!”

Shrugging, Apple Bloom threw a hoof in the air, met by the other two in a three way hoof slap.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders Present Finders! Yaaaaay!”

With their trademark proclamation, the three galloped off towards town, cheerfully kicking up snow at each other and breaking the morning stillness with their shouts of glee. Their tiny bodies warmed up with each bound through the snow and each crunch of thin ice their hooves made, and they giggled all the way to the castle. Behind them, the once-pristine snow was marred by their passage; yet still, it seemed somehow no less beautiful for it.

Ten minutes later found the three little ponies plus one little dragon curled up before the hearth in the castle, after a decidedly grumpy Princess of Friendship let them know that they could stay, but they had to be quiet. Spike had hot cocoa waiting for all of them, and they huddled in a circle before the fireplace. For the first few moments, the only sound was the three fillies slurping at their cocoa and the dragon’s claws clicking nervously against his mug. Finally, Apple Bloom spoke up.

“So, what kinda present were you tryin’ to find for Rarity this year, Spike?” She nearly coughed up her cocoa at Spike’s sudden claw on her lip, his green serpentine eyes darting around.

“Shhh, not too loud. Twilight doesn’t like to encourage my… friendship with Rarity.”

“Right. The Princess of Friendship doesn’t encourage a friendship.” Sweetie Belle cocked an eyebrow at Spike. “Somehow, I can’t seem to buy that. Are you sure it’s not because you have a cru—” She was similarly cut off at the lips by a claw from Spike.

“Whatever the reason, the point is, we need to be quiet. Now, I want to find her the prettiest gemstone I can… she really liked the fire ruby, but I need to think bigger, and that big sculpture of different gems from The Grand Equestrian Pony Summit gave me an idea!” Seeing he had the girls’ attention, finally, he sat back. “You know how we seem to find all different gemstones all jumbled up in pockets underground?” At their answering nods, he grinned. “Well, maybe some of them fuse together down there! What better gift than a natural, flawless fusion of different parts that make up a beautiful whole?”

“Awww!” Chorused Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, while Scootaloo stuck to making a face, tongue sticking out.

Apple Bloom screwed up her face in thought. “But, hang on. It’s winter, Spike. The ground is freezin’ cold and darn near impossible to dig in.”

Scootaloo nodded slowly. “Hey… yeah! And if we’re looking for gems all fused together, they’d probably be buried really deep, where the internal temperature of the earth is high enough to cause that kind of fusion. And that’s not even touching the amount of pressure required!” As her three friends blinked at her in shock, Scootaloo ruffled her wings irritably. “What? Can’t a pony be interested in geology?”

Shaking his head, Spike sighed. “Right, but that’s here in Ponyville. But if we go further south, where it’s still nice and warm… and I do know at least one place that’s boiling hot even in the winter…”

A trio of gasps interrupted him, and Apple Bloom pushed forward, nose to nose with the dragon. “Y’all don’t mean across the sea where the dragons live, do ya? ‘Cause the first problem with that is that it’ll take ages to get there, and the second problem is that there are dragons there..”

Pushing back the earth filly’s nose with a claw, Spike chuckled. “No, no. I just mean the Badlands!”

Another trio of gasps erupted from the fillies, and Spike rolled his eyes. “Seriously, guys. It’s like a four hour train ride. We’ll get there by eleven, find some gems, hop back on the train, and we’ll be back by supper!” Noticing Sweetie Belle shaking her head, Spike groaned. “What is it?”

“The train only goes to Dodge Junction. It doesn’t go all the way to the Badlands! We’ll have to walk!” Sweetie Belle flung out her forelegs, cocoa sloshing onto a perturbed Apple Bloom. “We’re your friends, Spike, but I’m not sure any of us are up to walking for like an hour.”

Spike waved a claw dismissively. “We’ll hire a coach when we get there, it’ll be way faster. And before you ask, I’ve been saving my bits, so yes, we can afford this. And,” he continued, seeing Sweetie Belle’s mouth opening, “I already cleared all this with everypony’s parents and parental equivalents. You’re allowed to spend the whole day hanging out!”

There was a beat of silence.

“So you’re saying that my sister, and Apple Bloom’s sister, and Scootaloo’s parents… they’re all totally fine with you piling us on a train and going down to the Badlands to hunt for gems? All day?” Sweetie Belle’s eyebrow hiked higher than Spike thought should be physically possible, and he spread his claws out in innocent supplication.

“Okay, so maybe I left out some of the finer details. But permission is permission, am I right, girls?”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders groaned.

“Still can’t believe we’re doin’ this,” groused Apple Bloom, head resting on the windowsill of the train.

Spike flapped a claw in her direction. “Shh, you’ll wake them up!” Indeed, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle laid together on the train seat, the pegasus giving little snores now and again. Spike had thoughtfully wrapped the seat belts around them in case of a sudden stop. Spike spared the sleeping fillies a fond smile before turning back to his other, grumpier, friend. “I mean, if you didn’t want to come, you didn’t have to…”

Apple Bloom sighed, trying on a smile. “I know. An’ I’m happy to be out with y’all, havin’ adventures.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Spike hopped up beside her on the train seat, and she turned from the window finally, lopsided smile still in place.

“Nothin’. I don’t rightly know, to be honest.. And hey, even if Twilight don’t approve of you likin’ Rarity, I think it’s real sweet you’re goin’ out of your way to get her a nice gift.” She shed her jacket as the train car got warmer the further south they went, and stuffed it into her saddlebags.

Starry-eyed, Spike grinned. “Yeah, I really hope we find what we’re looking for! I bet she’ll love it!” Still, his little claws worried at each other as he rocked back and forth in his seat unconsciously. Apple Bloom’s forced smile was replaced with a genuine one as she set a hoof on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Even if we don’t find exactly what you’re lookin’ for, I’m sure we’ll find her somethin’ nice. An’ I’m sure she’ll love it. Why, if’n a colt did half o’ what you’re willin’ to do for Rarity for me, I think I might stop believin’ in cooties.”

With that, the two friends shared a quiet laugh. The scenery whizzed by outside, turning less white and more brown and red as the train thundered down the tracks. Everypony was happy, and warm; and to Spike, that was all that mattered.

 

“C’mon, let’s try over here!”

Spike’s cry rang out across the quiet plains of the Badlands, and the three fillies trudged dutifully towards him. There was still a bite in the air, one that seemed to not bother Spike but set the fillies sighing with relief as it brushed their sweat-drenched coats. Fifty hooves away, their hired coachponies lounged and rested in the minimal shade provided by a looming boulder, passing a canteen between each other.

“I dunno, Spike. We’ve been digging for like, hours.” Scootaloo kicked the ground, wrinkling her nose at the featureless dirt. “We found a lot of cool stuff, just not exactly what you wanted. I bet she’d like that amethyst…” Indeed, all three fillies were laden heavily with gems, jewels, and in Scootaloo’s case, a random assortment of metal parts she thought might look cool on her scooter.

Spike shook his head, fiddling with the aforementioned oversized amethyst. “I mean, it’s pretty. But we can dig stuff like this up in Ponyville! I want to get her something special, and make the trip worth it.” With that, he gently placed the beautifully cut gem into his haversack, and set back to running on all fours across the warm dirt.

“I think there’s a pocket here!” The tired fillies trotted to him, all four friends kicking and digging at the dirt.

“Rarity is going to kill me…” whined Sweetie Belle, seeing her forelegs covered to the knee with dirt.

“Hush now, we’re all filthy. Let’s get to this gem!” Apple Bloom set to with the same vigor as Spike, the two friends digging harder and farther as the hole grew in size. Spike sat back, panting, and raised an eyebrow.

The hole was easily the depth of a grown pony’s foreleg now, but Spike had that itch in his head, that feeling that something wonderful awaited him. So he continued to dig, uncaring that Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle stayed at the rim of the hole, pushing dirt he flung up out of the way. Apple Bloom dug beside him, sharp farmer’s hooves making almost as much headway as his own sharp dragon claws.

The hole grew ever deeper as the sun reached its zenith, and Spike called for a halt. “Hang on. If we go much deeper, we’re not going to be able to climb out.” The filly and the dragon peered up at their friends, heads just poking over the rim of the hole.

“I dunno, do you really think there’s anything there? Maybe you should just come out.” Sweetie Belle proffered a hoof to assist their escape, but Spike shook his head stubbornly.

“Nah. Let’s just make an incline.” At Spike’s words, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle set to digging out a small ramp of dirt to allow the two to exit. And still, Spike and Apple Bloom dug.

One hour and several pony-lengths later, Spike let out a cry of triumph. Apple Bloom sat back, panting, but grinning at their find. There before them laid arguably the most beautiful gem any of them had ever seen.

It was circular, and indeed made up of several gems fused together. A pale topaz made up the curve closest to them, married to a deep blue sapphire around the left curve. To the right, a ruby twinkled, and at the top, a clear quartz finished the circle. Towards the center, the fusion of gems made up a beautiful spiral of color that set refracted light dancing around their dirt hole. Spike lifted the gem breathlessly. “This is… this is perfect.”

Almost reverently, Apple Bloom lifted a hoof to brush the dirt off the flat backside of it. “It really is! She’s gonna love it, Spike! Guess all this diggin’ was worth it.” She cast a glance upwards at the worried faces of her friends. “It’s alright, y’all! We got what we came for!”

Whoops of glee filled the air as the two friends emerged from the hole, scrabbling for purchase on the shifting dirt that made up the ramp. Panting, exhausted, and filthy, Spike cuddled the large fused gem to his chest for a moment before proudly holding it out for inspection. Dutiful ooohs and aaahs accompanied his display, and Sweetie Belle reached out with her fledgling magic to remove the rest of the dirt on it.

One gorgeous, sparkling gem, three filthy fillies, and one filthy dragon trudged back towards the carriage, hailing the amused coachponies. Their good-natured amusement turned to actual awe at the treasure the young drake was hauling, and Scootaloo happily gave them some extra gems from her own bags for waiting so long. Together, the four piled into the coach to the tune of Spike’s excited chatter about their perfect find.

        Several hours later found Spike seated on the Apple family couch before a roaring blaze. Applejack, upon finding the four friends by chance coming off the train, had soundly chastised each of them before sending them one by one for baths. Spike fidgeted nervously, seated beside Apple Bloom. The two could hear hoofsteps upstairs and Applejack’s familiar drawl as she supervised Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo in the bath.

        Apple Bloom glanced at Spike, who was cradling the fused gemstone and staring at the floor, a troubled crease on his usually smooth brow. She leaned over, nudging him gently. “Hey, it’s alright. She’s not really all that mad, she was just worried when she saw us come back from Celestia knows where.” She smiled encouragingly, a smile that faltered when the little dragon shook his head.

        “It’s not that. It’s… okay.” He glanced around, but with Big Mac out shoveling around the barn and Granny Smith snoozing upstairs, they were alone. “Alright. So… you girls came out and helped me today. You especially, with digging that hole with me and everything. I probably would have given up halfway if you weren’t helping!” He chuckled to himself, then sighed as he eyed the gemstone. “But the thing is, Apple Bloom, I started thinking on the way home. You know how adults act when a kid gives them a gift?”

        Unsure where this was going, Apple Bloom nodded slowly. “‘O course. They smile an’ they say thank you and they keep it, usually.” She giggled, a memory flitting across her mind. “One time, I gave Applejack a little pony made outta apples I stuck on sticks! Daggone thing was the ugliest thing I ever made. The eyes I carved out went all brown n’ mushy, and it was honestly kinda gross, but she kept it for a day before she made it into apple pie for everypony.”

        Spike nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Exactly. They like whatever you can give them, because they know you’re not grown up and can’t afford a bunch of super useful or flashy things. I mean, it’d be different if I were grown, or Rarity’s b-boyfriend,” and here, the little drake’s voice caught, and he cleared his throat, “but I’m not. And I know she’d be happy with a drawing, or that amethyst Scootaloo found, or even the emerald I found. I could give her this,” he lifted the fused gem, admiring the firelight dancing off the facets, “but I know that doesn’t change that I’m just a kid and she’s a grown mare. I know she’d appreciate it, but…” He trailed off, looking desperately at Apple Bloom. “Am I making sense?”

        Apple Bloom mulled over what he was saying in her head, giving careful thought as it was obviously quite important to the dragon. “I think I do. It’s not that you don’t want to give her something nice, it’s that this is very unique and special, and you don’t want to just get a pat on the head and a ‘thank you’ for it. You find it special, so you want her to think it’s exactly as special, but you don’t think she will.”

        He nodded. “That’s pretty much it. I don’t want this to just be another thing she tosses on the pile of gifts from colts that like her, you know?”

        Apple Bloom leaned back against the couch, watching the fire roaring up the chimney. “I get it. But you’re her friend, too. Aren’t you?”

        Tilting his head this way and that, Spike finally nodded. “I guess. Sorta. But you can’t ever be friends with an adult the same way you are with kids your own age, you know? She’s not going to come to me with grown-up problems like colts, or… I dunno, property taxes or whatever. She’s kind to me, but it’s usually when she needs something.” He winced. “That sounded bad.”

        “It’s alright, Spike, you’re allowed to feel however you feel.” Apple Bloom laid a comforting hoof on his shoulder, smiling encouragingly. “And I’m your friend too, an’ I’ll do my darndest to be around to listen when ya need it.”

        “You really are, aren’t you?” A big, genuine smile burst across his face. “You girls came with me of your own free will. You didn’t get anything out of it. You came because it was an adventure, and because you wanted to help me.”

        “Well, yeah.” Confused at Spike’s apparent mood swing, Apple Bloom sat up straighter on the lumpy couch. “I mean, I’ll be honest, none of us think it’s a really good idea for you to moon over Rarity, but we support you.”

        Nodding enthusiastically, Spike grinned. “Yeah, I know. It’s a silly thing, but you can’t help who you like. But still…” He turned to face Apple Bloom fully, holding out the fused gemstone. “Here.”

        Confused, Apple Bloom took it, eyes tracing the patterns of the colors before looking up at Spike again, brow furrowed. “What?”

        “I want you to have it. You can share it with the others, too, if you want.”

        Looking into Spike’s earnest, eager face, Apple Bloom blinked. “But… I mean, why? The whole point of this was for you to get something nice for Rarity.”

        “Well, yeah, I know. But you guys are just as important to me. You’re there beside me, not above me.” He rubbed the back of his head with one hand, smiling sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff. But you, and Sweetie, and Scoots, you’re my truest friends. And you deserve something nice, too. Besides… it’s a nice way to remember the Hearth’s Warming Eve we took off and worried the fur off everypony’s hide, right?”

        The giggles started small, but escalated until they were howling into each other’s arms as an unamused Applejack ushered the other two very damp fillies in front of the fire. Applejack tried her best to stay stoic and angry-looking, but soon had to join with a giggle of her own as she gently ushered Apple Bloom off to the bath. Regardless of the filly’s protestations of being a big filly now that could take her own baths, Applejack remained with her to make sure she washed behind her ears.

        The gem stayed with the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Spike, passing from one to the other, well into their old age. The four stayed fast friends throughout, always happy to swap stories of their childhood and young adulthood with each other. Though the grandfoals often thought the tales of their capers were a load of hooey, they still listened and enjoyed.

        Apple Bloom, from hardy stock as she was, was eventually the last of the group, save for Spike, left. She knew her sunset was coming, so one winter’s day, she braved the frost and slippery rocks of the mountain outside of Ponyville to visit Spike’s cave. It was dark, and cold, but the snoozing dragon within was warm and inviting.

        She rested her bones against her hibernating friend, knowing his centuries of sleep would outlast her. Carefully, she settled the fused gemstone, still as pristine as the day they dug it up together, right beneath his right claw. She placed a chaste, friendly kiss on the sleeping dragon’s cheek. “Bye now, Spike. Y’all be good, and look after the great-great-great-grandkids.”

        And with that, she made her way back down, and home.

        And when Spike awoke one Hearth’s Warming centuries later and saw the gem beneath him, his sadness was great, but the knowledge he was remembered even in his years of sleep was still greater. In that moment, he chuckled through his tears, and knew he made the right choice all those years ago. Princess Twilight, who had gone to his cave to leave his yearly Hearth’s Warming gift, was surprised to see him awake and even more surprised at his tears.

        But she simply hugged him as best she could, and the two friends watched the sunrise together as they had done in centuries past.

Cold Bons (for FloydienSlip)

Cold Bons

Bonbons

This is going to be great!

Lyra thought as she skipped in the direction of her house. Fluffy white snow fluttered and swirled around her as she made her way down the main street of Ponyville. The occasional biting breezes did nothing to dampen her high spirits. Of course, since Bon Bon was going to be in for a treat! Lyra would make sure of that.

She had recently vacated Sugarcube Corner which was jammed pack with ponies staying away from the snow and cold and to mingle with their friends and families. Until the usual Hearth Warming’s Eve pageant in the evening, that was. Then they would file the way to the town square—really more of a ring of open space around Town Hall—and gather round the stage that had been set up this morning.

Not that Lyra cared about such details anyway. All that filled her mind this moment was the recipe book hidden in the folds of her right saddlebag, just beside her golden lyre. Sweet Almond’s Guide to All Things Bonbons, according to Pinkie Pie, offered a great many recipes. Or in Pinkie’s words:

“A GREAT GAZILLION!”

Lyra never knew that there were so many different variations of bonbons in her life. Well, she only knew one Bon Bon but now she wanted to make bonbons for Bon Bon but there were just so many! There were sweets coated with chocolate, chilled cream with marzipan, fondants with chocolate, sprinkles, cookie crumbs and she didn’t know what even were fondants!

A tremor threatened to break out all over Lyra’s body, so excited she was. With a hop, skip and a jump, Lyra landed in front of the house she shared with Bon Bon. The door opened with a squeaky pop and Lyra prepared to step into the inky darkness—

Wait.

Bon Bon said she would be home… an hour ago, Lyra thought as her shimmering gold magic turned up the lights. Everything was neat, spotless and still where they were as she and Bon Bon left earlier in the morning. But it didn’t matter—the house was empty.

Bon Bon wasn’t here.

Lyra’s happy mood popped a hole, deflated and flew straight down into the wet embrace of sadness. A quick search of the rooms confirmed her fears—Bon Bon was nowhere to be found. Dejection of her face and the recipe book forgotten, Lyra dragged herself to the dining table and sank heavily upon its low bench.

That was when she noticed a note on the table.

Her shimmying magic picked up the paper and Lyra read:

Something urgent cropped up. Can’t go to the pageant.

Will make up to you tomorrow. Sorry.

Love,

Bon Bon

Tears welled in Lyra’s eyes. “But I was going to make you bonbons!” she said, letting the note flutter onto the table.

***

Lyra tossed the recipe in the corner and spent the next several hours curled up, staring at the dying embers of the fireplace. Well, she should have been making the bonbons but her heart just wasn’t in it anymore. The embers soon turned into smoldering ash, prompting her to peek at the clock. It was six o’clock.

Might as well just head to the pageant, right?

Lyra stood up and left the empty house.

The Hearth Warming’s Eve pageant drew a huge crowd unlike last year, which had a modest production and turnout in Ponyville. Not that Lyra knew anyway, since she was in Canterlot with Bon Bon. They had the time of their lives watching Twilight and her friends belting out the lines of the strife of the three tribes, the windigoes and unification and formation of Equestria.

But Bon Bon wasn’t with Lyra.

The loud, boisterous voice of ‘Commander Hurricane’ rang hollow in her ears. Lyra couldn’t tell whether it was the distance from the stage or the open air of the town square—which couldn’t have been good for the acoustic. Lyra was a musician, she would know.

She had left the house scant minutes before the play started. Trundling in after the general rush, Lyra barely squeezed into the back of the mob of merry townsponies. ‘Private Pansy’, her voice a soft, soothing register, didn’t quite lift her spirits.

The pegasi gave way to the unicorns and the haughty voice of ‘Princess Platinum’ grated on her ears. ‘Clover the Clever’ was no better.

… Okay, the pageant was actually great, maybe even better the one Twilight and her friends did. But it wasn’t fun when Bon Bon wasn’t here.

Lyra sighed.

“Why the long face?”

Lyra jumped. The lanky pastel red earth pony had appeared out of nowhere. She hadn’t heard her approach nor sensed her presence… Well, maybe she had been a little distracted… Why is she wearing a sunhat in the middle of winter?

Indeed, a bright yellow, wide brimmed summer hat sat on the mare’s head, her raven mane tucked haphazardly into it. And it looked wholly out of place on Hearth Warming’s Eve. The mare was lucky that the many winter breezes in the evening have not carried it away.

“I-I hope I’m not being rude…”

And she still hadn’t answered the earth pony, whose hopeful expression withered into bashful awkwardness.

Okay, she was very distracted. “… Oh, no! No, you just startled me, that’s all,” Lyra finally said.

The earth pony dipped her head. Scuffing a hoof, she said: “I’m sorry if I’m imposing, but you looked unhappy… I thought Hearth Warming is supposed to be happy?”

The question hit Lyra like a punch in the gut. She wanted to deny, to say that she wasn’t. But the words died in her throat when the image of her cold, empty house flashed in her mind. Empty without Bon Bon.

“Well, my best friend and I were supposed to watch the pageant together—” she motioned to the stage, “— but she couldn’t make it.”

There was a flash of recognition in the mare’s eyes, almost too subtle to be seen and the mare deflated.

“Oh, I see.”

Her voice came out just a little too flat, despite the sweetness of her voice. Lyra’s ear twitched—was there a hint of sadness and pain in her voice?

The mare pull herself together. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

“It’s all right! It’s not like we can’t watch it again next year!” Lyra said, chuckling. She hoped she didn’t sound too disappointed.

“But that’s not right!” The mare was suddenly in her face, her words hissing out almost like a threat. She wasn’t quite shouting but the proximity turned the statement harsh and loaded it with more than just a little anger.

Lyra found herself nearly stumbling onto her haunches. “Woah, woah! Calm down! It’s fine, really. Bon Bon’s coming back tomorrow,” she said. “She’s the friend I mentioned, by the way.”

The mare froze, a blush creeping on her cheeks. “S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to be angry.” She turned her gaze aside. “It’s just something personal to me…”

Something personal, huh? Lyra eyed the mare. The azure eyes of the mare were quivering, tears welling and on the verge of spilling. Something about Lyra’s words hit particularly home to her.

“Well! Let’s not dwell on that, Miss… Uh, I didn’t catch your name…”

The mare froze again, her blush deepening. “Oh! It’s um, Scarlet.”

“Hi Scarlet, I’m Lyra! Nice to meet you!” Lyra beamed.

Scarlet dipped her head, offering her hoof. “Likewise…”

Lyra shook it, a wide smile on her face. A new friend! And she should be happy…

Right?

***

Scarlet was a strange mare.

Well, she was cheerful, merry and certainly hyper. She looked like a foal on Hearth Warming morning, all starry-eyed and trembling with barely constrained joy. Not to mention, completely enthralled by the play.

Lyra sat through the play with one eye on the stage and the other on Scarlet. The mare gasped at the sight of open fight between the three tribal meeting. She whined in suppressed worry as the respective leaders conferred with their aides, expressing their displeasure at the other leaders. Finally, a grim look settled on Scarlet’s face as ‘Princess Platinum’, ‘Commander Hurricane’ and ‘Chancellor Puddinghead’ all declared they would find a better land to settle.

Pfft, everypony knew how that went and of course, Scarlet knew too.

But there was that certain quality of wide eyed attentiveness that whispered in Lyra’s ears that Scarlet had never seen the pageant before. And that would be ridiculous. Even the most shut-in pony—like a certain lavender alicorn princess—have to had seen it at least once.

And Scarlet’s rollercoaster enthusiasm was nothing like Bon Bon’s quiet musing, with that cute little smile tugging at one corner of her lips. And then she would comment on every single missteps and missed cues the actors and actresses made. Lyra never knew what was with Bon Bon’s attraction to such innocuous quibbles. But after Bon Bon revealed her identity as Agent Sweetie Drops, Lyra had an inkling why…

Not that it changed their relationship. They were still best friends. Even though Bon Bon abandoned her on this lovely Hearth Warming’s Eve evening. And she wasn’t angry or upset. Not at all.

…

Lyra blinked the sand away from her eyes. A hole gnawed at her heart, swirling and roiling in her chest.

A hoof shook Lyra in her shoulders. Startled for the second time in the night, she turned her head around to see Scarlet boring into her with a very knowing look. All around them, ponies were leaving, either in small herds or couples. The pageant had ended.

“It’s all right, Lyra,” Scarlet said. “Bon Bon… she’ll be back! Just like papa always do…”

Lyra barely caught the mumbled words but before she could comment, Scarlet said: “I’m famished, what’s there to eat in this town?”

Huh, so Scarlet was an out of towner. She must have been more distracted than she thought.

Still, Lyra had to answer Scarlet. “Well, there’s Sugarcube Corner, the Cakes sell the best cupcakes and sweets around here.”

Scarlet smiled. “That’s sounds great! Um… would you kindly lead me there? I’m kind of not from around here…”

“Sure, just follow me,” Lyra said, turning and trotted into the throng. A quick look over her withers showed Scarlet following closely in her wake, lest she got lost in this clumpy mob.

Not surprisingly, many of the townponies were headed in the same direction. No doubt to warm up with a cup of hot cocoa or eggnog. Sugarcube Corner wasn’t far, and soon Lyra could see the roof of the white frosted pink gingerbread house.

“We’re almost there—”

Scarlet stood rooted to the ground a little ways away, eyes wide. Was she surprised by the décor? Sugarcube Corner can be pretty shocking to a first timer, not to mention having Pinkie Pie around… There would be blitz talking, lots of ponyhandling and finally a party with everypony… in Sugarcube Corner.

But Scarlet wasn’t looking at the bakery. Instead, her eyes were levelled at two large and identically cream colored earth ponies, dressed in smart, black suits and red ties. Crew Cut and Long Mane, Lyra decided, based on their mane cut. Their head scanned the crowds, seemingly looking for somepony.

Lyra turned back to Scarlet. “Hey, something wrong, Scarlet?” she asked.

Scarlet jumped with a tiny squeal. The two earth ponies turned in Lyra and Scarlet’s direction. Are they looking for her? Lyra thought as she backed towards Scarlet, whom now turned a shade of pink.

“Scarlet, you okay?”

Scarlet didn’t answer. She simply stood there, eyes locked on the burly… bodyguards?

“Mistress?” Crew Cut called out.

“No!” Scarlet squeaked out, turned and took off. Crew Cut and Long Mane bulled past Lyra after Scarlet.

Woah! What’s her problem? Lyra stood watching the trio disappear into the crowds. Murmurs and whispers rose from the ponies gathered around her, wondering what had just happened. Soon when it was clear that nothing else was going to happen, crowd scattered.

Lyra frowed. Well, that was the end of that. Lyra turned and walked off in the direction of her house. And back to the emptiness.  Nopony bothered her this time as she walked through the fast deserted street.

Snow fluttered to the ground for the second time of the day. The biting breezes that came with it spurred Lyra into a trot and to reach home… and to spend a night without Bon Bon. At least she would still be warm with the fireplace going in her house.

As Lyra passed a dark alleyway two blocks from her house, there was a soft gasp.

“Lyra!”

Lyra stopped, peering into the brilliant blue eyes of Scarlet. The mare had lost her sunhat, her mane now cascaded down her neck in wavy lengths. She motioned Lyra to come in.

“Scarlet, what happened? Why are those guys chasing you?” Lyra asked as she stepped into the dim lights of the alley.

Scarlet sighed. “Those were papa’s stallions… I-I kind of left home without telling anypony.” She slumped, tears welling in her eyes.

“What? But why?” Lyra asked, taken aback. “Your parents must be worried sick!”

Scarlet’s downcast look twisted into an angry snarl. “Papa wouldn’t! He’s always busy! It’s always just me alone! My birthdays, New Years, Hearth Warming! He doesn’t even give presents!”

Lyra took several steps back at Scarlet’s sudden outburst. “Woah! Calm down! What about your mom?”

Scarlet froze, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Mama’s gone… since two years ago…”

Lyra winced. “Oh… Sorry…”

“I-I miss mama…” Scarlet sobbed. “She would read me all the Hearth Warming stories and stories about the Princess…”

Lyra stepped forward carefully and took Scarlet in her hooves. “There, there,” she said, stroking gently down her back.

“Papa just doesn’t care… He’s never been happy since mama’s gone…” Scarlet burrowed into Lyra’s chest.

Lyra patted Scarlet. She seemed so small, smooshing against Lyra right now. In a flash of realization, she knew Scarlet was barely an adult, a teenager.

“I’m sure your dad didn’t mean it,” Lyra said.

“But he never smiles anymore… He avoids me…” Scarlet sniffled. There was a moment of pause where she rubbed her eyes, blinking. “Um, could you let me go? It’s getting a little warm…”

Lyra did, smiling sheepishly. “Heh heh, sorry,” she said. “Anyway, did you try cheering him up? It’s what I always do when Bon Bon’s feeling down.”

“Of course! I…” Scarlet’s eyes went wide, horror dawning on her face. “I-I… never did.”

Lyra smiled warmly at Scarlet. “Well, you can start now.”

Scarlet’s horror turned back into teary eyes. “Is… is it too late though?”

The image of the tossed recipe book flashed in Lyra’s mind. “No,” she said, “it’s never too late.”

“But what should I do?” Scarlet asked, slumping. “I’ve never done anything like this before…”

“Just do something hoofmade, it’s what I’d do,” Lyra said. Like the bonbons I was planning to do…

“Even if it’s just a trinket, it being hoofmade shows your love and care for him.”

Scarlet considered Lyra’s word for a long moment. Finally, a smile broke on her face. “I might have something in mind.” She stood up. “Thank you, Lyra.”

“Happy to help!” Lyra beamed.

Scarlet blinked and wiped the tears off her eyes. “I-I should get going. Papa must be worried about me…”

“I’m sure he is.”

Scarlet trotted past Lyra and out into the street. “Thank you for putting up with me…” She inclined her head demurely. With a small wave, she was gone.

Lyra stepped out into a flurry, snow crunching under her hooves. She turned towards her house, the cold no longer bothering her. The two blocks of houses disappeared in a blink of an eye, replaced by the familiar face of her home.

Without a second thought, Lyra nudged the door open and stepped into the cold interior.

But it no longer felt empty.

And her eyes settled on the recipe book.

***

The door to Lyra-Bon residence creaked open, admitting a haggard looking Bon Bon.

“Whew… I’m glad that’s settled.” Bon Bon wiped her brows with her hoof. “Lyra, I’m home!”

There was no answer. Bon Bon blinked. In her slow adjusting night vision, nothing stirred in the dark interior of the living room.

“Lyra?”

Still, there wasn’t answer.

Bon Bon crouched, her hackles rising. Scanning her eyes, all she saw were the clean and orderly furnitures and knick-knacks just as they were this morning, along with the decorated pine tree in the corner.

Was the nefarious Dr. Nibbles back? Have he and his henchponies nabbed Lyra while she was away to save Aunt Sweet Caramel’s last minute bake sale? No, it couldn’t have or the Crown would have notified her. But then—

A loud buzzsaw of a snore interrupted her train of thought.

Or Lyra could be passed out somewhere. Again. Seriously, ever since the Bug Bear’s reappearance, she had been quite on edge… Bon Bon released a breath of air she didn’t realize she held.

Locating Lyra afterwards wasn’t hard—Bon Bon simply followed the direction of the snores. Just when she entered the threshold of the kitchen, she paused at the sight.

Everything was covered in a good facsimile of the snow covered town outside. Butter-sugar mix blanketed the fridge, stoves, ovens and tabletops in a thick slushy. Chocolate and sprinkles splattered against the mush like thrown snowballs. Calling it a mess was like saying the ocean was a little wet.

And in the middle of it was a soundly sleeping Lyra, slumped over the island. Powdered sugar dusted her face and ears, speckled by flecks of chocolate and sprinkles. Her mane was rat’s nest of tangled hair, chocolate and… was that icing? Lyra opened her mouth wide and emitted a very good impression of sawing wood.

Bon Bon scrunched her nose.

A baking tray lay in front of Lyra and on it were bonbons laid in three lines of six. One line was chocolate coated, the other chocolate with sprinkles and the last with vanilla icing. Bon Bon picked one of the white bonbons and popped it in her mouth. … Yes, it was vanilla icing and a fondant filling.

That was when she noticed the note beside the tray:

Happy Hearth Warming, Bon Bon!

A smile broke upon Bon Bon’s face and she planted a kiss on Lyra’s forehead.

“Silly Lyra… having you here with me is the best gift I’ve had.”

The Hearth Warming morning just got brighter.

Seasonal... Help? (for TartarusFire)

The wind decided to sleep in that morning, a welcome reprieve from its usual playfulness, as snow fell slowly, wanting to be caught, and found sanctuary in the frayed rip of a scarf, faded to gray.

He shivered, years in Manehatten having done nothing to prepare him for the frozen fangs that Canterlot’s winter now bared. Despite the predatory chill, the key levitated without fault, sliding into the lock with the ease acquired from years of repetition. A simple turn right, and he was in! With a fluidity seen in those years his senior or weight divisions lighter, it was barely a half-breath before he stood behind the door, closed once again. The inside was dark, though warmer than the outside. Even if not by much.

“Whew! Blasted winter’s gettin’ colder by the minute. Hope the heater still works!”

Switches flipped, lights on. The chairs still upside-down on the tables from the previous afternoon. Behind the counter, another switch, and the hum of heat trays signaling the start of a new day. A frown crossed his brow, noticing a small patch of leftover crumbs separated from their brothers and sisters in the trash bin. His reflection mimicked his scrunched expression, perfectly copying the cream-colored coat, tan mane and tail, green eyes, and horn. The fact that it also fully imitated his heavyset build was surely meant to be flattering.

“Joe, it might  just be one of those days,” he sighed.

The ovens and fryers dinged before he knew it. Being caught up in preparing the various doughs has a tendency to make time fly by, apparently. Not long after, the first batches were ready, and soon after that, the bell above the door rang. Customers! A hardhat on one, tools stuffed into his belt’s numerous loops. His counterpart: glasses and a semi-formal suit.

Two glazed and coffees, black. Rivet Puncher and Riveting Tale! Joe smiled, the order ready before the Ponies even made it to the cashier. Gratitude shown in bits, a nod from one, and a half-awake smile the other, they walked out into the sluggishly rising dawn.

***

Another ring, a Pegasus stallion and filly, the bi-monthly duo.

“Ey there, Thunderstruck! This winter givin’ you a headache, too?”

A yellow wing massaged its owner’s temple amidst his frazzled, electric blue mane.

“You have no idea, Joe. It’s bad enough on the ground with my sinuses, but up there? I’ve been grounded ‘til I see a doctor. Don’t want a repeat of last night, ya know?”

“Heh, gotta admit; frying the power for five blocks with one cloud’s pretty impressive.”

Young, eager, hopeful, hungry, light blue eyes peeked over the counter, nearly invisible beneath the dark and light pink striped mane, the chocolate and white splattered wings flapping almost soundlessly. Joe winked, pulling two bags from the back display case, along with two steaming cups of milk. The filly’s mane was drawn in for a nibble as her tongue made its course ‘round her lips, an almost-smile hovering on the edge of escape.

“Two brown sugar and cinnamon oat cake donuts, plus milk, as usual,” Joe grinned, warming up to the dance of the day.

Thunderstruck shook his head with a smile, still massaging and wincing, “Don’t know how you keep remembering that. We don’t come in as much as your regulars.”

Joe waved a hoof dismissively, “Pfft! You and Owldown come here every other Friday! You’re both regulars to me.”

He smiled warmly, “Thanks Joe. Owlie, sweetie? Didn’t you bring something for Mr. Joe?”

Owldown’s brow rose in question, then understanding, as she retrieved a paper from her saddlebag and glided over to the counter, where it was gently placed. A drawing of an elderly Earth Pony mare, pulling a steaming baking tray from the oven as Joe watched on.

Thanks for sharin’ the recipe, Granny Oatley. We still miss you.

“Aww, thanks sweetheart! I’m gonna stick this on my fridge in the kitchen.”

A pair of bits, and hugs, and the day rolled by like a ball down a hill. Sadly there was a ramp halfway down, a ring of fire, and a wall at the end.

***

Again, the bell tolled as Joe finished cleaning up the last table. Who, in their right mind, challenges Pinkie Pie to an eatin’ contest?! I’ll be lucky to get enough ingredients for even half of-

“Excuse me, Joe?”

His head raised from an internal monologue, Joe turned to his left. Eyes like strawberry milk, a blue cotton candy coat, and a braided jet black tail with a streak of gray running its length, just like her mane. She shook the snow off her wings as Joe found his words, along with a raised eyebrow.

“Gentle Rain? What brings you here?”

A warm smile reached behind her half-moon glasses, meeting her eyes at the crinkles, “Just checking to see if you’re still up for the C.A.F.E. charity bake-sale in a couple of days. Some of the other bakeries had to pull out. Cinnamon Chai’s Tea & Cake Shop got swamped by orders from Prince Blueblood every night for his parties this past week, Chocolate Chip’s Cookies’ old gas oven exploded and burned down the kitchen yesterday, and the Em-Pie-Er, that new pie place that opened up a few months ago? Just had all their stock eaten by a Wonderbolt this morning.” She stared at the floor dejectedly.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled. “Don’t you mean Wonderbolts?”

Gentle Rain raised her head with a deadpan look, “Nope.”

“Oh. Well, what about that cheesecake chain from Neigh York?”

“The Factory? They barely show up half the time.”

“SpunkyMare Cookies?”

“Turned us down. Again.”

“Mrs. Hayfield’s?”

“Opens in Canterlot next month, and no, that cafe in New Horselands isn’t planning on branching out anytime soon, either.”

Joe’s eyes widened in fear, “Sugarcube Corner?”

The name brought a small grin to Gentle Rain’s face, “When have Pinkie Pie and the Cakes ever let us down?”

He wiped the sweat off his brow, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “Whew! You really had me goin’ there for a while. Well, you can bet your sprinkles I’ll be there! I wouldn’t miss this even if Celestia herself came in and asked me to.”

Gentle Rain’s foreleg reached up to give Joe a firm hug, “Thanks, Joe. You’re a great friend.”

Has it really been that long since she foalsat me? he thought as she walked out. I remember when she didn’t have glasses, or those gray streaks. Eh, enough reminiscin’. Back to work!

***

“Needs just a little more ginger,” Joe muttered, licking the citrusy filling off his muzzle. He started cleaning up the rest of the Liquid Gold Donut filling before it stained his walls permanently, but the bell decided he could do it later. With a low grumble, Joe grabbed a nearby rag, wiping off the rest of the jelly along with his frown, entering the store with a clean face and smile. The Guardspony retained his neutral expression.

“Well, looks like somepony’s needin’ his double-glazed, caramel-drizzled, cream-filled on-the-job treat, am I right?”

A single nod was his only response.

Joe gave the basically-living-statue a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen, “Comin’ right up!”

As he returned, Joe found the bits on the counter along with what appeared to be a letter. After Joe put away the coins, the guard made his way to the door, treat in bag with his bottle of water.

“Ey! You left your letter!”

“Yours,” the guard replied, not stopping.

Puzzled and more than a bit curious, Joe opened the envelope, addressed, “To Joe.”

“Dear Joe,” he read aloud, “We hope this letter finds you well this season, and we profusely express our apologies in advance. Due to a bit of misplaced paperwork, the letter originally meant to be sent to you last week was lost. While it is, indeed, quite a short notice, all of the other bakeries in Canterlot are currently indisposed in one way or another, and so, while we understand you yourself must also be attendin’ to numerous matters for the upcomin’ Hearth’s Warming Eve celebrations, we implore you to consider caterin’ for the Guardspony Hearth’s Warming Social, two days from now. We will understand if you are unable to do so, and wish you a joyous time. Should you accept, please let us know as soon as possible, to make the proper arrangements.

“Sincerely, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna”

Well, what do you know? Joe thought with a smile. That’s the same day as-

His thoughts froze as smile dropped and his pupils shrunk to pinpoints, reading the letter once, twice, thrice more. No… no… no. No. No. No. No, no, no, nononoNONONO! he mentally screamed.

***

Joe grumbled, grunted, growled and snorted to himself as he finished cleaning up the last of the globs from the walls, more than ready to close up and sleep, hoping tomorrow morning might bring him an answer, or at least some free ingredients, as the bell jingled.

Huh? Who’d come in this close to closin’ time? Well, let’s see who came over. He thought, unhappily.

Joe walked through the kitchen door, “Almost closed up, but what ca-”

Joe was unable to finish his greeting, as his jaw hit the cashier, his eyes glued to the mare who’d walked in and was perusing the list of daily specials. The ding of the change-drawer caused her to look up, and at, Joe.

Everything about her, from her chocolate cherry coat, to her whipcream-hued mane, to the diamond shape of her turquoise eyes, was just as Joe remembered. Her mane, as well as her tail, flowed like waterfalls made of clouds made of marshmallow cream, and her Cutie Mark! Two pieces of chocolate filled with a gooey red center, with a bite taken out of the foremost one. He had had dreams about finishing off that piece.

Sweating like a rainstorm and tugging as his shirt’s collar, Joe stammered in a voice squeaky enough to buck him back to puberty, “Ch-ch-ch-cherry Cordial?!”

A giggle escaped her lips, which caused Joe to blush redder than her coat. Her eyes took on a smoky undertone as she slowly sauntered up to him, her Cutie Mark noticeably wobbling in time with her steps, her voice as light as a mousse, and twice as rich.

        “You know, I was looking at all the kinds of donuts you have, taking forever to pick one. They all just sounded so… scrumptious. I kept going back… and forth. And then it dawned on me!” She brought her lips close to his ear, and made sure each word was a puff of barely audible breath. “I think… I want… a… Donut… Joe.”

        As Cherry Cordial’s lusciously soft lips came closer and closer, intent on latching onto his ear, Joe would’ve whinnied in ecstasy, had he not brought the frying pan down on her head with a solid ‘pong.’

***

A headache, groaning, a blurry face that came into focus. Eyes… green eyes. Exceptionally displeased eyes. The eyes of-

The Donut Pony!

Joe fixed his stern glare on his captive, not even blinking as he unleashed the tirade that had been building up since that morning like a water balloon glued to a non-stop faucet. The unwilling listener unable to move, having been tied to the massive marble-topped table.

“Great… just… great. Ya know? This is fan-flapjack-flippin’-tastic. It ain’t bad enough that I gotta restock from Pinkie Pie’s unscheduled eatin’ contest, that the Colts And Fillies of Equestria charity bake-sale’s down some helpin’ hooves, that the Princesses themselves wrote me a letter askin’ to cater for the Royal Guards on the same night, oh no. On toppa that, I gotta deal with a Changelin’ tryin’ to schmooze me for some love!”

The Changeling gulped, giving Joe a sheepish, wholeheartedly embarrassed grin, unable to shrug due to the ropes threaded around and through its swiss-cheese-like appendages.

“Sssorry… ?” It hissed in an oddly feminine voice.

Joe’s left eye began to twitch, jerking once every now and then, until it began to almost blur like a hummingbird’s wing, as he spoke, his anger rising, “Sorry? You’re… sorry?! Ohhh no. You’re not sorry yet. You’ll be sorry after I turn you over to the Royal Guard. What in glazes are you even doin’ in Canterlot?! I thought Shinin’ Armor and Princess Cadance knocked every Changelin’ to the other side of the Everfree Forest after you guys showed up!”

Its large, orange eyes took on a thoughtful look, staring up at the ceiling, “Funny ssstory. One minute, I’m herding poniesss into the marketplaccce, nexxxt thing I know, thisss pink-bubble-thing popsss up out of nowhere and ssslamsss me into an abandoned ssstore. I wake up, everyone’sss gone, can’t hear the Queen in my head, and I’ve been trying to sssurvive ever sssinccce. Been doing jobsss here and there jussst to get by on ssscrapsss of love and sugar-”

“‘Cause it’s the sweetest thing next to love, right?” Joe cut in, not even raising an eyebrow as he leaned his head back from its face.

The Changeling was shocked, jaw slack, eyes wide, stuttering, “H-h-how d-d-did you know?”

Joe smiled with just a dash of smugness, “Let’s just say that Canterlot’s got a policy about intelligence. But enough about that. You say you’ve been livin’ on your own, outside of the hive, here?”

It nodded, “Uh-huh. Not easssy, let me tell you. Mossst nightsss I’m sssitting in an alley, feeding off of any emotionsss that passs by. Love, hate, sssadnesss, fear, depression. By the way, don’t try depression. It tassstesss like sssalty, burnt licorice. Ick!”

Joe carefully weighed the Changeling’s words, noting its closed eyes and extended tongue as it grimaced in disgust, “So, what you’re sayin’ is, ya haven’t had a decent meal in a while.”

It looked away, a hungering sadness in its downcast eyes as it nodded.

Joe closed his eyes and sighed heavily, “Well, sorry ‘bout that. Still takin’ ya to the Guards, though.”

It turned back to him, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, “Pleassse! I don’t want to lossse myssself to the Queen again! Anything! I-I’ll do anything! I’m a worker drone! I can lift, carry, follow ordersss, jussst-”

Joe cut off its’ pleading with a stern glare and low voice, “Do ya know how to bake?”

It nibbled on its lower lip, trying to look anywhere but into his eyes, as tears leaked from its own, “No… ”

Joe let out a frustrated groan as he face-hoofed, his aura once again billowing around his horn. The Changeling clenched its eyes tightly, waiting for the frying pan to clock its noggin. Exoskeleton or no, that thing hurt.

But it never came. What came was the undoing of the ropes. Eyes wide with confusion, fear, and suspicion turned their gaze upon Joe as he smiled, a small bag of sugar floating in front of the Changeling.

“Guess I’ll have to teach ya, then.”

***

“And that’s how ya make a glaze,” Joe yawned. He glanced over to the kitchen’s clock, noting that he’d have to get to work in a few hours. Not the first time he’d had to work into the wee hours, and not the last. No, not with what lay ahead. Wonder if I’m gonna be sleepin’ at all before all this is over, he mulled.

“Missster Joe? Are you okay?”

That hissing voice brought him back to this parallel reality. Joe blinked away his thoughts, and looked at the Changeling, noticing the flour on the back-up apron he’d brought out for it, and the patch of batter hardening against its cheek from the incident with the eggbeaters. Its eyes were full of genuine concern, much to his surprise. Or maybe he was just tired and it was curiosity instead.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. Well, ya got some of the basics down. We’ll practice the rest tomorrow, ‘cause I need to sleep. Sugar’s in the cabinet left of the fridge, just don’t eat all of it. There’s a spare room I use when I work late, yours for now. G’night.”

Looking around at the mess, a question raised, “What about the kitchen?”

Joe wearily waved off the query as he turned to leave, “I’ll get to it in the mornin’. Now, I need sleep.”

Again came the hiss, a different question walking beside it, “Am I sssupposssed to believe that you trussst me with thisss placcce? What if I decccide to eat all the sugar? Or break sssomething? Or sssteal the bitsss from the cashier?”

Grumbling as he turned around, the bags under his eyes packed and ready for their long-awaited trip to dream-land for what felt like years, Joe pounded his hoof gently against the floor for each reason he listed, “One: I don’t trust ya.

“Two: that sugar I gave you before we started had a trackin’ spell on it, like everything else here. Try to leave, I’ll find ya, and take ya to the Guards.

“Three: if ya really were gonna do any of that, ya wouldn’t’ve said anythin’.

“Four: the bathroom’s next to the spare room. Take a shower. Please.”

***

        The door unlocked a few hours before dawn, and Joe was unsurprised at the state the store was in: untouched. However, the kitchen was a different matter, as the lamps flickered on. He thought it was a trick of the light, but Joe could’ve sworn that parts of the counters, floor, and refrigerator were actually sparkling in their cleanliness. He had to rub his eyes twice before realizing that yes, the kitchen was in fact clean and no, it was not a dream.

        As the door to the spare opened, Joe looked to find a fairly tired-looking Changeling slowly step out, eyes half-lidded. It continued shambling forward until the counter decided to stop it, making it hiss in pain, rubbing its head.

        Suppressing a snicker, Joe grabbed a washcloth with his magic, and ran it under the sink faucet, before presenting it to the Changeling.

        “Ya know, I forgot to ask. What’s your name? Or do ya have one?”

        The Changeling looked at him for a moment, shocked, before taking the wet cloth and rubbing it over the horn, “Name? Usually I jussst ussse the name of whoever I’m copying, or make one up, but membersss of the hive don’t have namesss, just jobsss. I guesss… you could call me Worker?”

        Joe rubbed his chin, staring at the ceiling in thought, then looked back to the curious being before him, smiling “Well, if you’re gonna help me get all the preparations done for the C.A.F.E. and the Guards, we’re gonna hafta work twice as fast. So, ‘til this is all over, how about I call ya Double-Time?”

        Its brow furrowed in concentration as one of its hooves rubbed an elbow, the Changeling looked back to Joe with a grateful smile across its face, before walking over and giving him a hug, “I… thank you. I’ve never had anything of my own before. Thank you ssso much!”

        Joe, unsure of what to do, decided to hug her back, and found that while different, and perhaps even a bit unusual, hugging a Changeling wasn’t a bad experience.Despite having an armored exoskeleton, she was surprisingly soft. And that’s the thought that made Joe quickly, and awkwardly, end the hug, blushing with an embarrassed grimace on his face.

        “Uh… you’re welcome. Now, before we do anythin’ else, you’ll need a disguise so ya don’t scare anypony. Can ya only copy, or can ya mix-and-match?”

        Double-Time took a few moments, then answered, “Well, I’ve never tried combining looksss together before. But, I sssuppossse I could give it a try. What should I look like?”

        “Just pick parts of other ponies ya like, and put them together. Manestyles, coat colors, that kinda stuff.”

        She nodded, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Well, let’s see. What do I want to look like? How about…

        Joe watched as Double-Time slowly changed, the greenish fire of transformation shifting around her like a wavering candle, as it crawled from the sole of  her hooves to the tip of  her horn. She let out a sigh full of content as her grin stretched from ear to ear.

        “Well? How do I look?”

        Joe took his time in responding, looking over her new form. Her coat reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day, her mane and tail both braided, mid-length, and the color of blueberry jam. The Cutie Mark she had constructed were two clock faces, side by side, and her eyes… her eyes were that same shade of golden-orange, but now fitted to a pony’s eyes. Joe had to roughly shake his head to stop his thoughts in their tracks. Don’t know why she picked a Unicorn, but it’ll do, he thought

        “Ya look great! I don’t know anypony who looks like ya,” he smiled. “Well, let’s get to work!”

        “Yeah!” she replied, excited to be working again.

***

        Double-Time’s excitement didn’t last half an hour, sad to say. While Joe was a Unicorn, she had expected him to use magic to make the donuts, glazes, cinnamon rolls, and such, hence why she’d decided to be a Unicorn: to use magic. Joe, however, made everything by hoof, only using his magic to grab something out of reach or to clean, never to mix, bake, fry, or slather. After having this reality firmly poke her in the ribs, Double-Time wondered if she wouldn’t be better off in the care of the Royal Guard. Then again, I doubt any of the Guards are as nice as J-

        She stopped her thoughts so suddenly they got a case of whiplash, and instead focused on making sure the dough she was kneading wouldn’t get too tough, when Joe popped his head in.

        “Ey, Double-Time! Just lettin’ ya know I’m headed out to get some ingredients for tomorrow. Watch the front ‘til I get back, ‘kay?”

        She quirked an eyebrow, still kneading the squishy blob, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, I’ve worked a register before and all, bu-”

        “I’ll only be gone an hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half, tops. Besides, most ponies are busy buyin’ gifts right now, not donuts. Might not even get any regulars today.”

        Still unsure, but wanting to make a good impression, Double-Time winced, “Wellll… I guess so.”

        Joe gave her a small grin, “There’s a list of regulars next to the register, and prices for everythin’. See ya soon!”

        After he disappeared, Double-Time finished kneading the dough, and put it in the fridge for later. She found the list next to the register, just where Joe said it’d be, and quickly became bored with her newfound position. The second hand on the clock seemed to mock her, seeming to take an eternity for each tic and toc.

        Movement out of the corner of her eye made Double-Time do a doubletake as she looked outside, squinting at the painted words as she read them aloud:

“Canterlot Tours… ”

***

        Joe grinned all the way back to his shop. Sure, he’d been gone for two hours, but with the deals he’d gotten, especially what he’d gotten, he felt more than justified in taking a little extra time. After all, who wouldn’t want a treat their first day on the job? As Joe walked into his store, his grin got replaced with a look like that of horror movie victims.

        The chairs were scattered about, tables littered with the remnants of customers past. Napkins, paper cups both empty and not, and a grisly massacre of sugar packets best left to the police, were everywhere.

        “How in the hay did the creamer get on the ceiling?!” Joe yelled.

        “You do not want to know!” Gasped the answer from behind the counter.

        Joe moved at a brisk trot, minding his hooves and where they stepped. He found Double-Time lying on the floor, breathing heavily. Her mane had come undone from its braid, and now stuck up in almost every conceivable angle, as though she’d plugged her tail into a socket, which she may have, considering its burnt tips. Her face was caked in dough, looking like a facial mask gone horribly wrong, and there wasn’t a spot on her apron free from icing, glaze, or jelly. She tried to catch her breath, but failed as it zoomed away, so she went back to panting like a dog, complete with her tongue lolling to the side.

        Concern was carved into Joe’s face as he waited for Double-Time to begin breathing normally. When it seemed she was ready, he helped her up to a sitting position, and asked, “What happened?”

        Even though she was trembling, Double-Time took a very deep breath, and answered it all in one go, “Canterlot Tours brought in a group from Manehatten there were around forty of them a lot of kids and they were all in a hurry and I had to make more donuts and got zapped when the mixer went haywire and I tried to unplug it with my tail ‘cause I had a tray of jelly donuts and they exploded and I fell onto the frosted donuts we had cooling before and-and-and-wahhh!”

        Joe stood there, stunned, as he watched Double-Time bury her face in her hooves, bawling her eyes out and saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. And then he got angry. His lips pressed into a thin line before turning into a snarl, his eyebrows crushed so close together they almost looked like monobrow, and his chest heaved slowly in and out with barely suppressed rage.

Without a word, Joe walked passed Double-Time into the kitchen, knowing clearly what he needed to do. Noticing him pass her, Double-Time slowed her crying down to just sniffling occasionally, and followed a bit after. When she found Joe using the kitchen’s phone, however, panic became her new best friend. Double-Time leaped forward, afraid that he was calling the Guard, yelling “Waaaiiittt-” before being held in mid-air, Joe’s familiar green aura surrounding her, and somehow keeping her quiet. Joe watched her like a vulture, angrily waiting for the ringtone.

“Hello. Canterlot Tours? This is Joe. Yeah, that Joe. I got a funny story for ya. I leave my new assistant to mind the store for a bit, ‘cause business is slow today, and I got nothin’ scheduled on my calendar about a tour, but while I’m gone, my store gets hit with a crowd from where else but Manehatten. No, I’m sure about the dates. Check again. No, you listen. I know for a fact there’s not supposed to be a tour today, so stop bein’ a high-horse Ms… what’s your name? Holly? Holly Wreath? Call up Lucky Day, Holly. Yeah, your manager. ‘Cause if ya put me on hold, so help me Celestia, I will walk up to his house and tell him, in person, that ya screwed up the tour dates, Holly! Now, Lucky has my number. Tell him it’s me, and I expect a call in the next five minutes.”

Double-Time only watched in awe, eyes wide, jaw to the floor, as Joe fired his rage cannon, and hung up, waiting for the call. After being lowered to the ground, she was unable to speak beyond a single word:

“Why?”

Seeming much calmer than before, Joe gave her a sympathetic look, “Kid, this is your first day workin’ here. Ya had to deal with an unscheduled group of tourists from one of the grumpiest cities in Equestria. Trust me, I know. Ya did it all while I was gone, and even though the store looks like a tornado blew through it, I saw the register. Ya did great on sales. Might be we can restock and prepare for tomorrow. Besides, Lucky and me? We’re old friends. He knows not to pull this kinda thing with me.”

The phone rang before Double-Time could respond. Joe spoke more calmly, taking his time as somepony would for a good friend.

“Hello? Ey, Lucky. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I see. Well, tell Holly she messed up, but go easy. She’s new, ya know? Yeah, you too, Lucky. Tell the kids Uncle Joe says ey. Huh? All right. How’s next week sound? Good? Good. Just remember to bring the table this time. We’ll see. What? Yeah, right! Ya pull that off and I’ll make that special treat ya like so much, deal? Good talkin’ to ya, Lucky. Buh-bye.”

Joe turned back to Double-Time, rested a hoof on her shoulder, and gave her a small smile of pride, “I think ya earned a break. How ‘bout ya take a shower, get twenty bits outta the register, and get some lunch? Come back in an hour or two, I’ll have this place cleaned up, ready to go. Well? Scoot!”

***

Although the Hayburger in Canterlot wasn’t the best food in town, it was passable, if slightly over-greasy. Double-Time didn’t mind, though. She’d gotten a decent snack of butterscotch-flavored happiness from the mare at the counter, then topped it off with her large cherry soda and vanilla ice cream cone. The burger and fries were mostly there for show, but she ate them as well, trying to maintain the disguise. Looking at the clock from her underneath her umbrella-covered table, Double-Time shivered slightly, despite the sun being bright. Little over an hour left. Guess I could just head back and ask Joe if I can take a nap for the rest-

“Well! Fancy meeting you here!”

Turning away from the clock, Double-Time faced an average Earth Pony. Literally,  average in almost every way. Light tan coat, short brown mane and tail, and brown eyes. Only his Cutie Mark set him apart from the masses, being seven bees arranged in a hexagon, the center one green while the the rest were the typical yellow. He gave her a creepy smile, eyes half-lidded, and acted as if he knew her.

Double-Time tilted her head to the side, and gave him a quizzical look, and her voice carried a hint of nervousness, “I’m sorry, but I think you’re mistaking me for somepony else.”

His smile grew into a grin full of secrets, and his oily, Canterlot-accented voice, coupled with his completely relaxed posture, only served to unnerve her further as he continued, “Oh, you are correct. We never have officially met. But I know who you are. You, my dear, are a busy little bee, who happens to be lost. Outside of her hive.”

Double-Time’s blood ran cold, and she felt sweat bead at her forehead as the trembling started. Her eyes were nearly all white, her breath shuddered, as realization hit her in the gut like a boxing dragon.

A look of insincere remorse sprang on his face as he brought a hoof over his mouth, “Oh! I simply must beg your pardon. I seem to have neglected introducing myself. I am… Illustrious.”

“Y-y-you’re a-a-”

“Yes. I am. And so, my dear, are you, albeit a different class. Worker, I believe?”

She nodded, and failed to suppress her shivers as her singular thought repeated, over and over again, like a broken record, He’s an Infiltrator!

“Then I shall make this quite simple. You have entered into a… partnership with Joe, and this puts you in a position to be of some use to me. My associates and I are well aware of Joe’s predicament concerning certain upcoming festivities, and wish to help by giving him some relief. And, of course, the best way to go about that is by relieving him of his final products. Rationed appropriately, we would need not worry about feeding throughout the rest of the season.”

The sheer audacity of what he implied outraged Double-Time, and gave her enough courage to halt her shaking as she brought a hoof to slam down on the table, “If you think for a moment I’m going to turn my back on Joe, you’re-”

“Absolutely correct, in this instance,” he interrupted, Double-Time’s hoof stuck mid-swing. “You see, Joe left the bakery to bring a treat he had picked up for you while he was out, and I timed my introduction to occur moments before the two of us came into his view. In other words, he has been watching our conversation this entire time. Oh, no need look so taken aback. Did you expect someone of my class to not have planned out this scenario?”

A loud gulp was her only response, his was to lean in closer, staring into her eyes intently as one of his shifted from brown to a Changeling’s eye, though green instead of blue, and quickly enough to only be seen by Double-Time, and Joe.

        “Now, what do you believe he will make of this? Nothing good, I can assure you. Joe is unlikely to trust you past this point, and as such will be the case, he is most assuredly to take your help with his confections, and then promptly you toss you out into the cold. As things stand, you only have one option available to you that ends somewhat in your favor. Agree to become part of my entourage, participating in this current as well as my future endeavors, and you shall receive not only a portion of the spoils, but shall be welcomed as our newest member. Consider this your initiation.

“Should you choose to decline… well. I must admit,  I am certainly curious as to the reaction of the Royal Guard. Whatever would they do upon discovering that a citizen of Canterlot had been harboring a Changeling? Granted, I have a number of theories, but am quite interested to see which one would become a reality. I do apologize, but while it has been splendid conversing with you, I am a busy bee myself. I will see you soon, Double-Time.”

He trotted away and let loose a single, controlled snicker before his face relaxed into an easygoing, almost carefree smile, hoofsteps light, almost bouncy. Double-Time watched him go, and failed to notice as Joe walked up behind her, until he cleared his throat. She stiffened,slowly turned around in her seat, and gave him sheepish a grin that was half ‘how-much-did-you-hear?’ and half ‘this-isn’t-what-it-looks-like.’ Joe kept his face empty of any emotion, though there may have been just the tiniest flicker of sadness in one of his eyes.

He let out a sigh, and seemed to grow older as he deflated like a worn-out balloon, before he spoke in a somber tone, “Well, he was right about one thing. So, here’s what I’m gonna do…”

Double-Time’s eyes grew wider with each passing word, and filled with so many tears as to make them appear to be gigantic droplets of water, before she finally turned back to the table and rested her forehead atop her hooves. She gasped, bawled, and puddled her anguish onto the table, before it flowed to the snow-dusted sidewalk.

***

Only three sounds could be heard the next night as Joe made his way to Canterlot Orphanage: the clip-clop of his hooves, the creak of his cart as he hauled it behind him, and that telltale, inaudible music that accompanies evil intent. Joe trotted down the sidewalk, the buildings around him broken, busted, and bedraggled; a testament to the progress of Canterlot’s renovation incentive. The snowflakes drifted down like feathers, and gave every accessible surface the look of vanilla icing. Though, perhaps in the dark it bore a closer resemblance to gray mud.

The lampposts provided as much comfort as they did light, having been unused for so long. Joe’s magical aura billowed around his horn, and provided him with at least some form of visibility against the seemingly never-ending void. Although, he began to regret even this limited form of vision. At least in the dark he wouldn’t have been able to see the shadows a few blocks down, growing in size and distinction as, step by step, they drew closer.

Joe turned right at the next alleyway, and broke into a canter until he reached the other side. Upon his exit, he noticed four more sets of shadows had manifested, placed in such a way as to corral him into the nearest side-street. Severely outnumbered and outmaneuvered, his speed hindered by the cart, Joe obliged them, and walked into uncertainty, who waited for him with open hooves.

The buildings on either side were identical in their brick structures, making all the paths even more confusing in their maze-like design. Joe treated the shadows that appeared before him like detour signs, and turned right, right again, then finally left, into a dead end alley.

He heard multiple sets of hoofsteps close in, blocking his only means of escape as they crowded like a mob intent on seeing a celebrity. Four individuals broke off from the group, stepping into the light of Joe’s aura: An orange, muscular Earth Pony mare with a long, shaggy gray mane and tail as well as light blue eyes. A slim, violet Pegasus stallion with a short, neatly trimmed gold and green striped mane and tail, along with the same blue eyes. Double-Time, her eyes bloodshot, but set in a firm line of anger, along with her jawline, and finally, an Earth Pony stallion average in every way, whom Joe recognized from the day before. Illustrious stepped ahead of the rest, Double-Time by his side, as he grinned triumphantly.

His tone mocked, happily sarcastic in its condescension, “Why, good evening, Mr. Joe. I believe we have been bereft of a proper introduction, which I shall rectify, should you allow. You may refer to me as Illustrious, and I must admit, it is quite a surprise to find one such as yourself out and about at these hours, and in this decrepit portion of the fabulous Canterlot. Especially, considering this happens to be Hearth’s Warming Eve. Do you, perhaps-” he paused to gasp in mock surprise “-have somewhere important to be? An imperative quest that hinges upon your valiant efforts?! I am so dreadfully sorry for detaining you in such a fashion! By your leave, I shall halt your endeavors no further. Carry on, noble stallion! Carry on.”

Illustrious ended his little speech as he struck a pose, closing his eyes and gesturing towards the end of the alley, as well as the huddled swarm blockading it. Joe rolled his eyes, as Illustrious half-opened his, and gave a conceited smile, his hoof lowered to the ground.

“I thank you for indulging in my flair of the dramatic, Mr. Joe. Though you appear to be unappreciative of my performance, the fact that you so graciously held your tongue the whole while is, in of itself, greatly appreciated. Now, to the delicious matter at hoof. Am I correct in assuming that your cart is filled to the brim with quite a bounteous load of your renowned baked goods?”

Joe’s eyes remained locked onto Double-Time, and barely even registered the flamboyant

Earth Pony’s little monologue. Illustrious followed Joe’s gaze, and his face brightened with

understanding.

“Ah, I see. You wish to converse with your former underling. By all means, please do!

Surely, you both have a great deal to discuss, having parted company this morning so, so long

ago. Very well then! Begin regaling each other with myriad tales of thrilling adventure,

provocative romances, dastardly scoundrels, climaxing with the revelation of what is the deepest,

truest meaning of friendsh-”

“Phhbbt!”

Illustrious stopped, shocked at the interruption unleashed by Joe, who held a grin

overflowing with content. His jaw hung open, eyes twitching in stunned amazement, as he tried

to work his words into order, “Did… did you just raspberry me?”

Joe’s grin never faded, “Yeah.”

His amazement at Joe’s very daring to interrupt him gave way to rage. He inhaled, intent on exacting his revenge-

And was slobber-knocked in the jaw, flying four feet and five inches, headfirst, into the nearby wall, passing out after his unintentional, though brief, journey. Double-Time couldn’t have been more satisfied, if judged from the vindictive smile on her face.

She turned to Joe, questioning, “Now?”

Joe’s closed eyes were all the answer she needed, and she followed in suit as his horn quickly grew brighter, and exploded into a blinding, disorienting flash brighter than a score of fireworks. All around the duo, sounds of ‘My eyes!’, ‘The light! It burns!’, and ‘What the-’ could be heard. Illustrious’ group wildly dashed about, crashing into each other, the alley’s walls, and the ancient remnants of what could loosely be described as rotten vegetable matter left in the cluster of garbage cans.

Joe turned back to his cart, retrieved the two cast-iron skillets hidden underneath the tarp with his magic, and tossed one to Double-Time, who gripped hers in both hooves like a bat. They briefly glanced at each other as they sported mirrored grins, before proceeding to lay into the defenseless, pandemonium-induced Changelings, wreaking havoc and wildly yelling . A masterfully orchestrated metal symphony of pongs, binks, bonks and clangs resounded throughout the seemingly abandoned close quarters. As they both stood, chests heaving, silence spoke through the night, though was interrupted by a single “Keep it down! I’m trying to sleep here! Yeesh!”

Joe and Double-Time shared a look, as well as a brief chuckle, before a squad of Guards rushed into the alley’s entrance, drawn by Joe’s light show and the screaming. Not exactly in need of a lengthy explanation, given the scene before them, the Guards promptly rounded up the unconscious horde and levitated them towards Canterlot Castle and, presumably, the dungeon.

Joe relinquished his cart to a Guardspony, already filled to bursting with enough donuts to last the night for the Guards’ Social. As they cantered away, eager to be rid of their prisoners and begin the feasting of glorious deep-fried, sugar-laden dough, Joe and Double-Time galloped their way back to the bakery, short on time as they needed to retrieve the specialty treat Joe had developed for the C.A.F.E. With much huffing, puffing, and wheezing, they managed to arrive at Canterlot Orphanage with less than five minutes to spare.

By the time the bidding began, they’d managed to catch their breaths. Joe had to smile upon the unveiling of certain entries. Gustave le Grand’s famous eclairs made an appearance, though he himself did not. Apparently he’d had them delivered, due to his busy schedule. Mulia Mild’s chocolate-mousse moose came up, though as a twist she had made this one with milk, dark, and white chocolate. She’d personally presented it to the winning bidder.

As a sight all too familiar came into view,  Joe could only smile as he silently teared up. A multi-tiered cake, its contents almost as crazy as its creator, had ponies bidding on it before it had even stopped rolling onto the low stage. The Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness, as it was introduced, had its winning bidder nearly hugged in two by an overly energetic, pink Earth Pony.

Celestia bless you, Pinkie Pie. You always come through, Joe thought, wiping away his tears. After a slew of other creations, numbering no less than four massive pies bought by a single Wonderbolt, two three-layered cookie-cakes filled with oatmeal, peanut butter, and chocolate chips as their gooey, globby centers, as well as three different tropically-flavored cheesecakes, Joe’s spare cart was rolled onto the stage. Gentle Rain herself ran the auction, and wore a shallow smile deep with gratitude as she presented his culinary creation.

“Our last entry comes from the bakery of none other than Canterlot’s own Joe. And I’d hazard a guess that he was working on it even as he galloped over, since he could barely breath, let alone speak. You know Joe. Always working up to the last minute.”

She paused until the chuckles had died down before continuing, “Fillies and gentlecolts, I am proud to present… a baker’s dozen of the Liquid Gold Donut!”

A collective gasp, and one loud bark of laughter, ran through the crowd, before the bidding began in earnest. Gentle Rain eventually had everypony simply keep their hooves raised as she, in turn, raised the bid, bit by bit. Eventually, the one pony who’d laughed before came up to receive his hard-won prize, much to the disappointment of the other bidders.

Joe and Double-Time were preparing to return to the bakery, when an Earth Pony stallion approached them, a Unicorn filly and colt rushing ahead of him, yelling ‘Uncle Joe!’ again and again. Joe reached down and hefted the roan colt and butterscotch filly onto his shoulders as he stood on his hind legs, all three laughing and smiling in glee.

The stallion, cherry red, his blonde mane and tail speckled with gray, came up to Joe, smirking all the while, “And here I was under the impression I’d have to beat you in poker to get those donuts again.”

Joe’s smile grew wider, “Ey there, Lucky Day! Figured you’d be here. Though, if you wanna thank somepony-” he gestured to the mare next to him “-that’d be Double-Time over here.”

Lucky Day trotted over to Double-Time, shock on her face as a smile was on his. He wrapped a hoof around her neck, and gave her a firm hug, saying “Thank you. Thank you so much for helping Joe make those donuts. He created those the day I adopted these two, so they mean a great deal to us. They remind us of the day we became a family. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

Double-Time stood stock-still, amazed at how much of an impact something as simple as a pastry had made in another pony’s life. Lucky felt a few drops of moisture fall against his coat as Double-Time hugged him in turn.

Lucky Day and his family walked with Joe and Double-Time until they had to go separate ways. The bags under Joe’s eyes had gotten deeper, and he was looking forward to sleeping in for the holiday, since the bakery would be closed. Double-Time marveled at everything that had happened in the past few days, and the smile on her face slowly dissolved into a look of mourning, before she had to stop walking, as she openly cried on the sidewalk.

Troubled, Joe levitated a hoofkerchief out of the pocket in his apron, and wiped her tears as he rubbed her shoulder with a hoof, “Ey, ey. Easy, kid. What’s gotcha so worked up?”

She drew in a shuddering breath, her words stuttering, “I-I-I… d-don’t-t…  w-w-wan-n-n-n-na… lea-lea-lea-leave-ve-ve!”

Joe stared at her, his blank expression full of confusion “Why? Ya plannin’ on goin’ somewhere?”

Double-Time sniffled loudly, “H-h-huh?”

Joe’s smiled warmed her, despite the chill in the air, “You’re my assistant, right?”

“W-well-l-l, y-yeah, b-b-but I-I th-th-thought-t-t-”

“Ya thought I was gonna kick ya out?”

“Y-y-esss!” she muttered, her hiss escaping.

“Tell ya what. Ya need a place to stay, right?”

“R-right.”

“Right. And I want some help. Got some recipes I’ve been wantin’ to try for a long time, but never had the time. ‘Kay?”

“Okay.”

“‘Kay. Here’s my idea: you’re now my new, permanent, full-time assistant. Ya can have the spare room. Got it?”

“But-”

“Nope. Ya don’t get a say in this. You’re my new assistant. Besides, ya should know better than to argue with your-”

Double-Time basically put Joe’s neck into a headlock with how tightly she hugged him. After a moment to process the sudden reaction, Joe sighed contentedly as he returned her hug, albeit with less of an impersonation of a python. There were, however, a few questions that nibbled at the back of Double-Time’s mind.

As they pulled apart, she felt the need to ask, “Joe? Why are you being so nice to me?”

Confusion was written across his face like a flashing warning sign, before he smiled, “Ya remind me a bit of myself, when I was a colt. I used to be alone, with no family. Then, a mom and dad took me in, and treated me like their son. If I can turn out to be a decent pony from where I started, I got a feelin’ you’ll turn out even better.”

A heartfelt smile broke through her tears as Double-Time wiped them away, “Thanks, Joe. Last question: how did you outthink Illustrious? I mean, Infiltrator-class drones are bred for intelligence and strategy. They’re the Queen’s spies!”

Joe smiled in embarrassment, and rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof before answering, “Well, two things. First, remember when I told ya ’bout Canterlot havin’ that policy on intelligence? To make a long story short, since I got here, I’ve gotten smarter. Second, well… let’s just say that to know your enemy is to know yourself.”

Joe had winked at her, and though it was probably a trick of the moonlight, Double-Time could’ve sworn…  I mean, their eyes have the same green shade but… No, it couldn’t be.

Could it?

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