Hearth's Warming Eve was cold and furiously snowy that year, with a looming ceiling of clouds that felt like the lid on a box, as if the entire world was wrapped up tightly and put away for the winter.

Which only made Celestia's fire-lit bedroom all the more snug and comfortable. The Sun Princess lay on her daybed before the fire, forehooves crossed, head tilted thoughtfully as she tried to find the exact words for the letter she was writing. The quill twitched in the magic from her horn, and she hummed softly as she futilely tried out one phrasing after another.

Thankfully, she was interrupted by a respectful tapping at the door.

"Yes? What is it?" she called.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," replied the guard outside, "but Miss Sparkle is here."

"Oh! Please have her come in at once."

The right-hoof door swung open, and a familiar lavender face peered around it.

"Twilight!" Celestia set aside the letter and got up to greet her. "It's a pleasure to see you. Happy Hearth's Warming!"

"And to you, Princess!"

"And Spike! You're looking well... very healthy, in fact!"

"Your Majesty!" The small purple dragon bowed formally, then grinned. "With all the studying Twilight's been doing, I've been getting a workout putting all the books away!"

"Spike!" Twilight whispered at him, embarrassed.

"What? It's a compliment!"

"And what brings the two of you here?" Celestia asked. "It's always lovely to see you, Twilight, but I understood you'd be spending the holiday with your parents?"

Twilight looked downcast. "Dad's away on a business trip, and something came up so they're making him stay an extra few days. And Mom is doing a book-signing at a convention in Vanhoover, but they're snowed in, and all the trains back are cancelled."

"I see! Well, your mother is a very talented writer," Celestia told her. "And you should be quite proud of her. And I'm certain your father wouldn't be away if he had a choice. And let's see..." Celestia looked thoughtful. "Shining Armor is, I believe, also away on a training exercise? Ah, that one's my fault, actually. I should have known better than to push through that promotion right before the holidays. I am so sorry, Twilight!"

"It's all right, your Highness. Um..." Twilight looked uncomfortable. "Cadance came by to visit me at the School... and she suggested that maybe... I might... well..."

"Spend the holiday here with us? That's a wonderful idea, Twilight."

"You're not too busy?" Twilight asked, relieved.

"Not at all. It's usually a quiet time for me anyway. I spend Hearth's Warming Eve here in my room, writing letters or just sitting by the fire. And Cadance drops by for a pleasant chat later on."

"Well... I kinda assumed you'd have all kinds of friends and nobles to visit. And parties and things to go to."

Celestia shook her head. "When I was younger, maybe. Over time I became so tired of the endless bickering and infighting over who should have the honor of hosting me... well, it just seemed wrong to stir up that kind of sentiment, tonight of all nights. And this also means my staff and guards can have the evening off, so they can be at home with their families. With a few kind exceptions, of course. One moment, Twilight... Steel Hoof!"

"Highness?" the guard replied through the door.

"A very happy Hearth's Warming, to both you and Bronze Shield. And thank you so much for volunteering to stay over."

"It's our pleasure, Highness!"

"Now, Twilight," Celestia went on, "I must admit to being a little rusty with actually celebrating the holidays. Perhaps you wouldn't mind helping me out here. Are there any traditions that your family usually observes?"

"Well, let's see... we usually have a big family dinner, all of us together. Um, decorating the tree, obviously... hanging our Hearth's Warming dolls over the fireplace..."

"And presents!" Spike said, eagerly.

Twilight smirked. "It's the first Hearth's Warming together for Spike and me. And he's really worked up about the presents."

Spike shrugged. "I always like getting stuff!"

"He is a dragon, after all," Celestia agreed. "Well, all right then. It's nearly time for dinner, so let's begin with that. Unfortunately I've also given the entire kitchen staff the evening off, but they're always kind enough to stock the pantry with some nice dishes in case anyone gets hungry. And if there's something specific we'd like, I'm not entirely useless in the kitchen. Let's head down there, and see what we find!"

With the guards following at a discreet distance Celestia, Twilight, and Spike trotted through the castle corridors, coming at last to the royal dining hall. Beyond it, though a pair of swinging doors, was the kitchen with its massive, multi-chambered cookstove, huge freezers, endless cabinets and drawers, and spotless work stations. And the pantry in back was practically an entire suite of rooms by itself, full of shelves stacked with dishes and jars and packages of all shapes and sizes. There were barrels and sacks clustered everywhere.

"Anything in particular your family has?" Celestia asked, as they explored the pantry shelves. "Aside from the usual standards?"

"Well, one of my favorites is haystacks," Twilight said. "That's basically hayfries, but piled higher and smothered in melted cheese. And it's kind of a game, too -- whoever finds the needle wins."

"A needle!" Celestia looked horrified. "That sounds dangerous."

Twilight nodded. "It's actually just a small pretzel stick. Mom says it used to be a steel nail. Then one year there were a lot of kids as guests, and they decided to use a pretzel for safety. And everyone liked the idea so much, it kinda sorta became the tradition."

"I see. Well, that sounds simple enough. And pies, I assume?"

"Uh huh! Apple, and pumpkin, and blueberry. And rhubarb too, though I'm not really wild about it. And mom would always whip up this wonderful dried flower salad. Daisies and roses and zinnias and bluebells, yum!"

"And potatoes and squash?"

"All kinds of vegetables. And cranberry sauce!"

"Hmm... well I see the pies over on that shelf. And some nice vegetable casseroles, I think. And I suspect I can manage haystacks, or something very like it. Why don't you and Spike go out and set the table for us while I make a start in here?"

"Can I lend a hoof, Auntie?"

"Cadance!" Celestia said. "Perfect timing! Come help me sort through things in here. And then I may send you down to the greenhouse to see if they have any leftover cut flowers we can use as a salad."

"Hi, Cadance!" Twilight called as she and Spike scurried past.

Cadance trotted over to stand next to Celestia, and eyed her with a smile.

"Well? Great idea, wasn't it?"

"Cadance..." Celesta said, in a mildly scolding tone.

"Oh, come on, Auntie!" she replied. "You know you wanted to invite her, but didn't want to keep her from spending the holiday with her family. And when I stopped by to walk her home, she'd just gotten word about her mother's train being cancelled. And she looked so mournful. I could see she wanted to ask to visit, but was afraid you'd be too busy. So yes, I did invite her without asking. It was just too good an opportunity to pass up. All the fun, with no guilt!"

"Have I been complaining, Niece?" Celestia said loftily. "I only hope we don't end up singing carols. It's been long enough that I've completely forgotten the words to some of them. Jingle, jingle, something or other, is that how it goes?"

"Don't try to fool me, Auntie. I've heard you belt out Puddinghead Fell Down the Chimney like a pro."

"Only with plenty of backup, and when I've had a fortifying cider or three," Celestia replied.

Then she stared at the tin of cranberry sauce, held in the gleam of her magic.

"Cadance, do you happen to recall where they hide the can-opener?"

They had a pleasantly filling dinner, all four of them, seated at Celestia's end of the long dining table. There were haystacks of course, gooey with cheddar cheese and having a piece of stick candy serving as the needle. Which not too surprisingly happened to end up on Twilight's plate.

And they had a smorgasboard of vegetarian dishes and pies to choose from, and a salad of flowers and greens. There was even ice cream, a bit crystally from being the last of the package, but still good.

And Cadance, during her foraging trip to the greenhouse, had also stopped by the storerooms and dug up some traditional Trottingham-style crackers, which snapped like gunshots when pulled. Cadance and Twilight immediately put on their paper crowns, and Celestia was eventually convinced to wear hers as well. Spike's head was too small for his, so he simply turned it upside down and wore it around his neck like a ruff.

"You know," Celestia said after a while, peering up at the crown, "I might just wear this instead of my actual crown at the next diplomatic function. See if anyone dares to comment, mmm?"

"I think that would be a wonderful idea, Auntie," Cadance said, smiling. "It would really help lighten things up!"

Celestia smiled in return. Then suddenly her smile slipped away, replaced by a somber look. She quietly removed the crown and set it gently on the table, not saying anything.

Then she picked up the slip of paper that had come with her cracker and peered intently at it.

"What is Princess Celestia's favorite dessert?" she read.

She glanced around at the other three, a cryptic look in her eyes. "No takers?" She looked at the paper again.

"A Sun-day."

And then she utterly refused to acknowledge Cadance's attempts to stifle laughter. "Well," Celestia went on, loftily, "as long as it's drowning in caramel sauce, I'm not going to object."

After dinner they all returned to Celestia's room, and the Princess made some space on the mantel for their Hearth's Warming dolls. Twilight rummaged in the carryall she'd brought with her, and brought out a well-worn, bandy-legged lavender unicorn doll, with yarn hair and button eyes.

Cadance had stopped by her room to fetch a doll of her own, a battered plush pony that had her coat and mane colors. "I've had this since I was little," she said. "It might not have my wings, but it should do just fine!"

Twilight had even found a local knitter who'd been able to do a decent crocheted version of Spike. The dragon held his doll in his claws and stared at it, looking suddenly doubtful.

"What's the matter, Spike?" Twilight asked.

"Well... mine's so stiff and new. You two have had yours for years, so they're all worn and old, and they just feel traditional. I wish mine fit in better, that's all."

"Hmm... may I, Spike?" Celestia's magic gently took hold of the doll, and she examined it closely. "Now, do you trust me, Spike?"

"Of course, Your Highness," Spike replied. "Why?"

Without answering, Celestia turned her attention to the doll. The magic glow around it intensified. And before their eyes it appeared to soften and fray, its limbs becoming floppy, its cloth surface faded and lightly torn.

"There we are," Celestia said, returning it to him. "As good as old!"

Spike stared at it. "It's perfect," he breathed.

"Just don't tell anyone," Celestia warned. "I'd rather not spend the rest of my days distressing Hearth's Warming dolls as gifts!"

"Won't say a word!" Spike replied. Clambering up on Twilight's back, he reached up and set the doll on the mantel edge next to Twilight's. And then Cadance gently set hers on Twilight's other side.

Twilight looked up at Princess Celestia. "Oh, I forgot to ask, Your Highness. Do you have one?"

Celestia paused for a moment. Then she nodded. "I do, actually. It's over in the closet. But you'll need to be indulgent. It's an antique, and the style has shifted a few times over the centuries."

Celestia led the way across the room to a walk-in closet. Within were shelves loaded with blankets and dozens of extra pillows, seemingly far more than the Princess might ever need, short of a pillow-fight.

And on a long, low shelf to the right side of the room, there were toys. Hundreds of them, large and small, all of them seemingly hundreds of years old. It was like a miniature museum of ancient toymaking history.

Twilight put her forehooves on the shelf and just stared for the longest time. Her own childhood seemed to stretch back forever, but she hadn't realized just how many generations of children must have preceded her, each with their own playthings.

"Wow!" She looked up at Celestia. "May I?"

"Of course, Twilight. But be gentle. Some of these are very old and quite fragile."

Gently, Twilight picked up some of the toys in her magic, and turned them about to look at them. There were ancient, stylized warrior ponies, of dented bronze and yellowed ivory. There were animals made of ancient leather, tarnished metal, and a few of cloth, but so threadbare as to appear mangy or bald. There were hardwood puzzles and peg games, and strands of beads of various materials. A fishnet sack held heirloom-quality glass marbles of all sizes and styles, no two alike. There was a small box, encrusted with bright blue pigment, with a grid-like board marked on top of it and small mushroom-shaped pieces set out on some of the squares. And there was a tiny, intricately-fashioned merry-go-round, made entirely of carefully-chosen crystal shards hung together with tiny metal hooks.

But pride of place in the center was given to two large hardwood pony dolls, both of them alicorns. One was tall and elegant, painted white with gold regalia and a flaming sun cutie-mark. The other, standing beside her, was shorter and night-blue in color, with silver regalia and a half-moon cutie-mark. Both were elderly, battered and chipped. And there was a rough-hewn quality to their carving and a sternness to their expressions that made them seem from another age entirely. They spoke of a hard, unrelenting strength, an incontestable resolve.

Celestia picked up the white alicorn in her magic and sighed quietly as she looked at it. "The staff are kind enough to keep these cleaned and well-cared for. But I haven't had these out for a while... a very long while."

"That's her, isn't it?" Twilight asked, pointing at the blue alicorn. "The friend you had, a long time ago?"

Celestia was silent for a moment. Then she nodded. "Yes, that's her."

"She's beautiful!"

"She was. Her name was Luna," Celestia said somberly.

Twilight's magic gently picked up the blue alicorn. She brought it over to her hooves, where she gently turned it about, admiring it.

"I think I saw her," she said, "just for a moment, when Spike and I were trapped in that memory of yours of the old castle. She spoke to me briefly, just before I woke up. I don't really remember the words, though." ( * )

"She was the nicest pony I'd ever known, Twilight --" Celestia suddenly went silent, and said nothing for a long moment. When Twilight looked up, she saw that the Princess had her eyes tight shut, her head turned away, and seemed to be holding in her breath.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness!" Twilight said. "I didn't know how precious she was to you!" She made to put the toy back.

And then felt Celestia's own magic stop her. The Princess gazed down at her, her eyes moist. "You've done nothing wrong, Twilight. I just loved her so very much. It's the memory that's painful, that's all."

"Did she... die?"

"No... she's just a long, long way away from here. I hope one day I may see her again." She put out a hoof, to gently touch the doll. "Dearest Luna..."

Twilight stared at the doll, then up at Celestia.

"Would it be all right, Your Highness, if we put Luna on the mantel too, with all the rest of us? Just so she's not lonely stuck in the closet?"

Celestia stared into the distance, and took a deep breath.

"I think... I would like that very much, Twilight!"

They returned to the fireplace, and rearranged the dolls, with Celestia and Luna in the center, Twilight and Spike on Celestia's right, and Cadance on Luna's left.

"Now," Celestia said, as if determined to return to a festive mood, "you mentioned decorating a tree. The guards and staff are always kind enough to bring one up here for me." She gestured to a small fir tree, hunched monkishly in the corner near the balcony windows, and decorated with glass ball ornaments, tinsel, and candy canes. "But is there anything important that it's missing?"

Twilight considered it for a while. Then she nodded. "Popcorn," she said, authoritatively. "One thing we always did was string popcorn for the tree together. And it needs a star on top!"

"Well, Cadance, do you think you can manage popcorn? I should have needles and thread here somewhere."

"Let me run down to the kitchen and I'll check!"

She was back soon with a tin of popcorn. In lieu of a popper, she simply held the tin tightly in the glow of her magic, shut her eyes, and concentrated furiously for close to a minute. The tin began to shake, then judder dangerously. Then the top blew off of it, and there were popcorn kernels flying everywhere.

"Cool! Indoor snow!" Spike cried, grabbing up some of the nearest kernels to munch on.

"Nicely done," Celestia said, shaking stray kernels out of her mane. Then she eyed Cadance appraisingly. "Who was it you were thinking about?"

"None o' your beeswax, Auntie!" Cadance replied with a smirk.

Celestia nodded, and then stared about at the white drifts on the floor. "You know, Feather Duster is going to be furious with me when she finds popcorn kernels scattered under the bed..." Then suddenly she looked up, with a peculiar light in her eyes. "And you know what? Right at this moment, I just don't care!"

Smiling, she swiftly threaded needles for them all, and they began stringing the kernels. Celestia could easily line up a hundred at a time in her magic and get them all with one pass of the needle. Cadance could manage perhaps a dozen at a time, but Twilight and Spike still needed to do them one by one... and Spike ate more than he got onto the thread. But in the end they had a few strands of decent length with which to decorate the tree.

"And now, for the star," Celestia said. She thought for a moment, and then nodded. "And I think I know just the one."

She turned to the fireplace, and huffed gently.

The fire was snuffed out, along with every candle in the room, plunging them all into darkness.

And then Celestia's horn gleamed, and a sphere of glowing light sprang into existence around them, almost as large as the room itself. The surface of the sphere was mottled and twisted, swirling with faint spectral colors like a soap bubble. "The Universe itself," Celestia said. "At a very early stage of its expansion. Now, if we just run it backwards far enough..."

The sphere shrank around them, passing through them with a warm, tingly sensation. It compressed down, gleaming brighter and brighter, until it was roughly the size of a buckball, hanging in the air before them.

"And then...?" Celestia gently prompted.

"Inflation!" Twilight crowed, her eyes wide. She loved magic, but she loved magic put to use in a science lesson even more.

"Say what now?" Spike asked.

The sphere suddenly collapsed, shrinking down to an almost impossibly bright point.

"The very early universe," Twilight lectured, "went from being impossibly tiny to about the size of a buckball, very fast. That expansion, called inflation, is why the Universe we see today looks pretty much the same in all directions, because the initial tiny state was smeared out so quickly!"

"If you say so," Spike said, squinting at the gleaming point. "It sure looks cool!"

"What do you think, Twilight?" Celestia asked. "Is it shiny enough for our tree?"

"I think it's wonderful," Twilight breathed. "The whole universe, as a single shining star!"

"It is beautiful," Cadance agreed. "Though it's a little on the bright side right now, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it probably is," Twilight admitted.

"Well, that's easily remedied," Celestia said. "I'll just adjust the model's parameters a little..." The star expanded into a small swirl of light, shimmering but not overpowering.

"There! Much better." Celestia waved a hoof, and with a loud whump the fireplace relit, along with every candle in the room. And with her magic, she directed the glowing swirl over to its place atop the tree.

"That was amazing, Auntie!" Cadance said. "I didn't know you could run magical simulations like that!"

"I can't," Celestia admitted, "at least not very good ones. This is one of Luna's, actually. She taught me how to operate it. She was always so much better than me at the maths behind them. And yes, Twilight, I'll show you how to run one yourself, when you've progressed far enough."

Twilight blushed, and shut her mouth on the question.

"All right!" Celestia said. "We've had dinner, and our dolls are on the mantel, and the tree is decorated... any other traditions we should observe?"

"There's one we used to do, in the village I came from," Cadance said. "We'd look up at the night sky, just before retiring, pick a star, and make a wish on it. And if we went to sleep and had pleasant dreams, it meant the wish would come true."

"That sounds like a lovely tradition," Celestia said.

Spike peered out through the windows at the overcast sky. "Not much chance of that tonight, though!"

Celestia looked at Cadance, and then at Twilight and Spike. Putting a forehoof to her lips, she got up and strode towards the balcony doors. Her magic swung them open, and Twilight braced herself for a blast of chill, snowy air from outside. But nothing happened. As they stepped out onto the balcony it felt like a warm summer's day. Twilight could sense the thin, shimmering bubble of shield magic and warming charms that Celestia was projecting all around them, as they looked up at the clouds.

Celestia lifted a hoof towards the sky, then paused.

"Don't tell the pegasi," she warned. "They get so annoyed with me whenever I meddle!"

She swept her hoof, as if wiping mist from a window. And a massive swath of sky suddenly was swept clear, the stars shimmering bright and cold in the purple backdrop of the night sky.

"Wow..." Twilight said, in a small voice.

She felt Celestia lean close to whisper in her ear. "Always remember, Twilight," she said. "I am not a goddess... I'm just the one ponies call upon whenever they feel the need for one..."

They all looked up at the sky then, in silence, each of them picking a star. But Celestia looked thoughtful for a long moment. Then she reached up and motioned further with her hoof...

... and the clouds parted to the right, revealing the cold white disc of the Moon with its Mare shadow.

"Do you think, Twilight," Celestia asked uncertainly, "that it would still count if I were to wish upon the Moon instead?"

Twilight and Cadance exchanged a glance, and Cadance nodded excitedly.

"I think so," Twilight agreed carefully. "Is it a good wish?"

"It's the best one I know," Celestia replied seriously.

They all wished for a while, in silence. Then Twilight looked at Cadance. "We don't tell our wishes, do we?" she asked.

"Only if we want to," Cadance assured her.

"Well," Spike said immediately, "I wish we could open presents tonight! It's gonna be so hard waiting for tomorrow."

The others laughed at that. "I think we can accommodate you, Spike," Celestia said. "If there are no objections?"

There were none, so Celestia carefully restored the clouds and led the way back inside, shutting the balcony doors tight against the wind that had resumed outside. They made themselves comfortable, Celestia sitting on her day bed and the others on comfortable quilted seating pads facing her.

They started with Twilight and Spike's presents to each other. Spike eagerly tore off the wrapping on his, and then stared.

"A book..."

"... about dragons!" Twilight said proudly. "You said you wanted to learn more about your kind, Spike."

"I said I wanted to visit dragons, find out more by talking to them," Spike objected. But then he smiled. "But this is great, Twi. Thanks!"

Twilight opened hers next. And it was another book. "A Daring Do!" Twilight flipped to the title page. "Wait, I haven't seen this one yet. That's just not possible! I've read every Do in the School's Library."

"Heh! That's because I hid this one, until I could buy you a copy."

"What?"

Spike clapped a claw over his mouth. "Oops."

"Spike! You know how long I've been looking for this? How often I badgered the returns desk about it?"

Spike cringed, worried.

And then Twilight hugged him. "It's the best present you could have gotten me. And you're forgiven... as long as we can read it together!"

"Deal!" Spike said, relieved.

They moved on to Cadance next. Twilight had gotten her a crystal preening comb, which Cadance immediately stuck in her mane as an accent. And Cadance had gotten Twilight a self-extinguishing glowstone. "For when you fall asleep reading under the covers," she said, with a smile.

"I do not!" Twilight grimaced. "Well... not so much anymore."

Spike had gotten Cadance the small hoof-mirror that went with her comb. And since Cadance's present for him was covering part of the cost of his Hearth's Warming doll, she'd gotten him a large cupcake with gemstone sprinkles, just to have a gift for him to open.

And then Twilight looked worriedly at Celestia.

"Twilight," the Princess said, knowingly, "I've told all of you before, you mustn't feel you need to buy me anything," she said. "I'm hundreds of years old, and the last thing I need around here is more things. Your visit has already been the nicest Hearth's Warming present I could ever have had. I'm so pleased to have been able to share the holiday with you and Spike."

Twilight smiled thankfully. And then got up, went over, and hugged the Princess tightly. And Celestia returned it, just as warmly. "You know, Twilight," she said, "of all the ponies in my care, you are the only one I can hug so willingly, so unreservedly. I hope that never changes!"

"I hope so too, Your Highness."

Cadance feigned a hurt look. "What about me, Auntie?"

"You're family, Cadance," Celestia chided her. "I can take you for granted!"

"Well! I guess that shows me!" Cadance retorted. Then she reached out with her magic and snagged Spike, and hugged him instead.

"Hey!"

"Quiet, Spike!" she told him. "This is retaliatory hugging. It's most serious!"

She and Celestia eyed each other like gunfighters for a while, half-seriously.

"But as it happens," Celestia finally said, "I did want to give each of you something. So go rescue Spike, Twilight, before he turns blue, and we'll proceed."

Twilight did so. Once they were all seated, Celestia teleported in three wrapped presents, one for each of them.

Spike shook his gently. It made a fragile clinking sound. "Ooh, I like the sound of this," he said. With a glance at the others for permission, he tore into it. "Woah," he said, staring at a large bowl of gemstones. "Now that's my kind of present!" He grabbed up a ruby and bit a large hunk off it.

Cadance's present was a delicate pendant of crystal, shaped like her heart cutie-mark. "It's beautiful, Auntie!"

"My pleasure, Cadance. Hopefully, it will make up for anypony you happened to miss seeing over Hearth's Warming."

"I have no idea what you're going on about, Auntie!"

Twilight was busily unwrapping her present, which was a long, small, flat box. At first based on the shape she'd assumed it was a quill or other writing tool. Then she folded back the wrapping paper and found...

"A key?" She held it up in her magic. It was large, and old, and made of heavy brass, with an intricately-flanged bit.

Celestia nodded. "It's a master key to the Canterlot Archives." She smiled at Twilight's awestruck look. "I decided it was about time you had one, just in case you fell asleep studying some day, and wound up locked in after hours. It will open any room, with the exception of the Restricted section, where the lock..."

"... is a magical combination lock," Twilight said. Then she looked embarrassed. "Or... so I've heard," she added lamely. She looked at the key, then at Celestia.

"Thank you, Your Highness!"

"Thank you, Twilight."

"Okay," Cadance said brightly, "who's up for singing some carols?"

Celestia eyed her levelly. "Hope you brought enough cider for everyone, Niece!"

The rest of the evening passed all too quickly, but very enjoyably. And then Cadance and Celestia walked Twilight back to her old room in the palace, which as promised Cadance had held in reserve for her. They tucked her and Spike in, and said goodnight. And then Celestia strode back to her own room alone, silent and thoughtful... and with a lightness in her step that she had not felt in a long while.

When she stepped inside, she found her chief aide, Raven Inkwell, standing on a chair to lift down the wooden Luna doll from the mantel.

"Raven!" Celestia called out sharply. "What are you doing?"

"Oh!" Raven turned to look, surprised. "Your Highness! My deepest apologies for the mistake. Someone must have put this up here, probably without thinking about it. I was just going to put it away, and..."

"It is no mistake!" Celestia thundered. "Put it back! Now!"

Raven did so, eyes wide. Celestia took a steadying breath, then went on, in a milder tone. "Sorry, Raven. You were acting properly, of course. I have simply decided that from now on Luna's doll will stand beside my own on Hearth's Warming Eve. It is long past time I acknowledged my sister's absence, and the deep regard I have always felt for her."

And, she thought to herself, my very great hope for her return...

In the days that followed, word passed quickly, first among the servants and guards of the royal suite, then the officials and nobles of the Court, and finally of the city beyond. Luna is back on the mantelpiece, they told each other, astonished and pleased. The Princess of the Moon may be spoken of openly again. And at the same time, it seemed, the best part of their own Sun Princess had also been allowed into the open. They saw a smile on the Sun Princess's face that had rarely appeared before, a sly wit in place of her usual reserve, and an unusual level of prankishness as well, which heretofore Celestia had only rarely allowed herself.

So it was not surprising that in the years that followed, prior to the events of a certain Summer Sun Celebration, Hearth's Warming Eve came to be known in Canterlot by another name:

The Night that Luna Returned.