//------------------------------// // 65. Silver - by Thak // Story: RariJack - The Compilation of Prompts // by Titanium Dragon //------------------------------// Thak Silver Rarity quietly hummed one of the holiday’s festive carols to herself as she carried the box containing the new decorations into her house. A shiver ran down her spine as the cold winter wind was replaced by pleasant warmth emanating from the stone fireplace. She quickly shut the door behind her to prevent the biting wind any chance of taking away the precious heat. Logs crackled and sparked in the large fireplace, sending shadows dancing along the walls of the farmhouse. Outside the snow fell gently as the sun inched its way towards the horizon. A bare tree stood in one corner of the room, its green branches unadorned for the moment. The fresh cut sapling gave off a sharp odor, mixing pleasantly with the sugary smell coming from the kitchen. The luxurious mix of nutmeg, cinnamon, and pine filled the warm house, and Rarity smiled as she basked in the joy of the season washing over her. A large clang in the kitchen pierced the quiet, followed closely by a series of high pitched giggles. Curious, Rarity set down the box of ornaments and walked into the kitchen. She stopped at the doorway and smiled at the two ponies inside; a small white filly with blonde tresses giggled noisily as the orange mare in front of her blinked away the flour covering her face. The normally spotless kitchen was covered in various baking sundries: glass bowls and mixing spoons piled high in the sink, and every free counter had been coated with flour, sugar, or some combination of the two. Baking sheets filled with holiday treats sat on wire racks by the stove, and the kitchen table was covered in wax paper where the famous Apple family no bakes cooled. The two ponies in the middle of the kitchen were no less covered; instead of flour and sugar, the small filly was splotched with batter despite the tiny red apron she wore. Applejack wore a dusting of flour on her back and face. The red and white checkered apron she had on provided a little more protection than the one on her daughter, but not much. “Well, well, would you look at this mess? Who’s going to clean this up?” asked Rarity from the doorway. “Mommy!” cried the young filly. She jumped down from the small stool she sat on and rushed toward the door, wrapping her sticky legs around Rarity. Rarity returned the affectionate hug and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Guess what? We made cookies!” said the eager pony, bouncing in front of a bemused Rarity. “I see that, Darling. You are absolutely covered! Why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for your bath? I’ll be there in a moment.” The young filly bounded out of the kitchen, and a moment later both mares heard the thumping of tiny hooves scramble up the large wooden staircase. Rarity winced as the upstairs bathroom door slammed shut. Applejack walked over and nuzzled Rarity affectionately. Rarity sneezed as a cloud of flour flew into her face from the orange mare. “Sorry about that,” chuckled Applejack. “How was your shoppin’?” Applejack turned and trotted toward the sink, carefully avoiding the piles of batter on the kitchen floor. Rarity watched her turn on the water and start cleaning the dishes, a smile on the white unicorn’s face. While she had been a little more lenient about messes since Topaz’s birth, it was refreshing to see Applejack heed her concerns about having to constantly clean. “It went well,” said Rarity from the doorway. “I picked up a few things for the tree, which I am absolutely sure you’ll love. I thought we could do some decorating after everypony gets cleaned up. Maybe even read a little?” “Sounds good, Sugarcube. Shouldn’t take too long to get this place back in order.” “This, my Darling, was mine from when I was your age. Be very careful with it.” The young pony nodded somberly as she grabbed the small crystal bell from her mother. She walked carefully over to the tree and placed it on the lowest branch, like all the other ornaments the filly hung on the tree. “What’s next?” she asked, trotting back over to Rarity and Applejack sitting on the couch. “That’s it. The only thing left is for the star to go on. Why don’t we let Mama take care of it?” Rarity levitated the gold star towards her wife, who frowned at the unicorn. “Topaz, why don’t you go in the kitchen and get the cocoa powder ready? I think I could go for some hot chocolate. How about you, Rares? You want some?” asked Applejack. “I suppose,” said Rarity hesitantly. She gave a questioning glance at her wife, who still had not grabbed the star from Rarity’s magical grasp. Topaz trotted into the kitchen, and a moment later the two older ponies heard the squealing of hinges as the young filly opened the pantry door. A small thud followed by a quiet “Ooops” pierced the deafening silence in the living room. “Applejack? Is something wrong, dear?” “I said I don’t want a gold star on top of the tree.” “Yes, you did. But I thought if you saw how lovely the tree looks with gold, rather than silver, you might find you actually like the look of it.” “It ain’t a matter of looks, Rares. It just don’t feel right. Granny said back in her day the only thing they had to top the tree was an old pie tin Grandad hammered into the shape of the star. Said gold was far too precious to waste on a tree when ponies were hungry.” “Darling, it’s not like this is actual gold.” “I know that, Rares,” snapped Applejack. “I ain’t stupid.” “I’m not saying you are, Applejack. My word, whatever is the matter? You’re getting awfully worked up about this.” “I am not!” yelled Applejack. “I just don’t want no dang gold star on top of—“ “Mama? Why are you yelling at Mommy? Are you mad at her?” asked Topaz from the doorway. Her green eyes were wider than normal, Rarity realized, and she looked like she was about to cry. “No Sugarcube, I’m not mad at Mommy. I’m just a little tired from today is all. Why don’t you go grab the book and Mommy will read to you while I make the cocoa. Sound good?” Applejack stood up and started walking towards the kitchen. “Yup! But you gotta say sorry for yelling at Mommy,” said the filly. “Topaz…” began Rarity. “It’s the rules! You have to say sorry or else you get grounded,” said Topaz. She sat on her haunches in the middle of the doorway, arms crossed as she looked at Applejack. While she could easily step over the small filly, Applejack conceded the point. It was one of the rules; if you yelled or hurt somepony, you had to apologize. The fact that this had been meant only for the young filly seemed not to matter to Topaz, and with some reluctance Applejack walked back to the couch. She pecked Rarity on the cheek before mumbling a quiet apology. Rarity gave her a meaningful we’re-not-quite-done-with-this stare, and Applejack nodded before heading into the kitchen, no longer impeded by her daughter. Instead, the young filly had clambered into Rarity’s lap, a large book open in front of her. It had been a tradition in Rarity’s family that every year they would read A Hearth’s Warming Hymn together, culminating in the final stave being read on Hearth’s Warming Day. While not the actual story of Hearth’s Warming itself, the tale did have a wonderful message, and Rarity had been thrilled Applejack wanted this tradition passed down to their daughter. “Now, where were we?” asked Rarity, flipping open the book. “Chapter two,” replied the young pony in her lap. “Staves, dear. They’re called staves.”Rarity cleared her throat and began reading. “Awakening from the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Scrooge had...” “’Why to a poor one most?’ asked Scrooge. “‘Because it needs it most.’ “’Spirit,’ said Scrooge after a moment’s th--“ The loud snore of the little white filly startled Rarity. The long emptied cup of cocoa still sat cradled in the little one’s hooves, and her chest rose and fell with heavy, even breaths. She had commandeered her mother’s body as a pillow, and Rarity gently set the book on the coffee table, gently stroking the filly’s mane with her hoof. “I’ll take her up to bed,” said Applejack. She set her empty mug on the table and stood to pick up her daughter. “It’s alright. She’s not uncomfortable,” whispered Rarity. Applejack nodded and sat back down on the couch. Rarity and she stared into the fireplace. The fire had died down to embers, but the house was still warm throughout. The quiet evening was only disturbed by the snoring of the filly and the scattered popping as the last of the wood burned in the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Darling,” whispered Rarity. “I know you said you didn’t want the gold star. I thought it was about not liking the look of it, and I wanted to try and change your mind.” “It’s fine, Rares. I should be the one apologizin’. I guess my pig-headedness got the better of me again. ‘Sides, not like I gave you a reason why I didn’t want gold, did I?” Applejack sighed. “I guess I don’t want my family thinkin’ I’m putting on airs or nothin’. We’d always been content with what we had. Granny took real good care of us on very little money. I just feel like havin’ a gold star’d make it seem like I was throwin’ bits away or something. Like I didn’t care about what Granny had to go through for us.” “Plus it’s tradition,” supplied Rarity. “Exactly. But if gold’s your tradition, I can’t be selfish and make it all about me, right?” asked Applejack. “Darling,” said Rarity. “I love you more than anything. If it truly makes you uncomfortable, then we won’t have a gold star on the tree. But,” she said, holding up a hoof before Applejack could speak. “I don’t want you thinking that you forced me to give up my tradition for yours. So what I suggest is tomorrow we all go into town and pick out a star, together. We’ll start our own tradition, as it were. Agreed?” “Agreed,” said Applejack with a smile on her lips. “I love you too, Sugarcube.” Applejack reached over and kissed her wife. She leaned down and kissed her daughter as well, before turning back to the fire. The two ponies sat in companionable silence as the soft glow of the fire wrapped around them. The snow outside fell in large flakes; the wind gusted against the house and trees. No matter how much the wind blew, or the ice threatened to freeze everything, the two mares basked in the warmth of their love; nothing would ever come between them. Next prompt: Learning