Hearth Warming's Crusaders Carol

by Lethrael

A Baked Apple means I love you.

This is a story about families and what they mean to the three fillies we all know and love. If you want to know, who I might be. I would rather tell but show you. But let us don't waste the time. We will first visit.

A Baked Apple means I love you.

Scootaloo laid silently under her blankets and snuggled into the pillow with a quiet whimper. It seemed her dream wasn't any kind of pleasant and she fought it. She turned over, pushed away the blanket with her fast passing hooves and tried to run away from her nightmares. As she get loose of the whole blanket we saw something different on her flank, simply a blank spot. And it seemed, that the little filly is much smaller, than usually. Could it be?

“Sh, Scootaloo.”

A soft tone raised and a gentle wing comforted the filly. The orange feathers were just a little bit brighter, than the fillys own colour. It caressed warmly over the tousled mane and calmed her down. Scootaloo nuzzled herself into the wing with a relieved sigh and mumbled something in it. A hoof picked up the blanket and tucked it gently around the little filly in the bed. A light red mane get in our spot and we saw a young mare, who smiled calm down on her daughter. The mare, a pegasus obviously nuzzled the filly with her cheek and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“It will be alright.

I'm here for you.

Sleep tight, while I'm preparing the best meal for you.”

The filly smacked halfway in expectation and the other way in remembrance of previous meals. Another relieved sigh found its way out of her mouth and she snuggled deeper into her pillow.

We shall let the filly sleep peacefully, didn't we?

So let us follow the mare instead.

The mare, in colour and behaviour the mother of that little filly, looked to her for the last time and tiphooved out of the little room. She didn't close the door shut, but leaved the door a jar. So she could spot, if her filly needed her again. Now with proper light, we should easily see how she looked like and where we have been. But as time went by, the mare didn't held still for us, instead was moving to the next door. She moved through a real small corridor with two other doors, one of them closed on the right side and the other one open.

This room was a kitchen, tiny but cosy, as we could easily see by the old black oven. The fire in it was warming the tiny room and filled it with dancing lights. The mare wandered into the room and looked around. Her purple eyes searched out every spot and furniture there. First the small table in front of her get her attention, her wing wiped gently over the two chairs on both sides. Both were facing each other and the one much smaller stood direct next to her. She looked to the left and to the afore mentioned oven came in sight, on its chimney were hanging two knitted Hearths Warming dolls and on it's hot plate stood a small pot. A silent sigh escaped the mare and she lifted the lid and sniffed on the boiling matter in it. She grimaced as nothing, not even the simplest taste reached her tongue. The bubbling mess of grey and a little bit yellow was all she was able to get. Barley, pea, leek and one old carrot. Like everyday. Nothing famous, nothing tasty, nothing worth of celebration, but a meal.

The mare sighed and covered the pot again. She glanced over the rest of the kitchen, small wooden closets a cupboard with just one book, who laid down sideways to held two dangling Hearths Warming socks. Both were slightly filled. The mare clinched her teeth and took one step to the next furniture an old huge sideboard with rusty holds. She creaked the left door of it open and looked over the interior. Pots, well aged but clean, two cups, one of them tinier and slightly damaged and two wooden bowls. She lifted off and flapped her wings slowly to get to the highest board, there laid a present packed in a very cheap brown paper and secured just with cord. She took it very carefully with both hooves and pressed it against her chest.

“I hope so, you like it.

Even when it's just something you have to put together on your own.”

She placed the gift under the hanging little sock from her filly. The mare closed the left door and opened the right. The void in this cupboards were only fighting back by three objects, two shrivelled apples and one tiny bowl with almond slivers. She placed all three on the table and sighed again as she closed the door. Like every Hearths Warming they would make one tasty thing to celebrate.

A simple baked apple.

Often she wished for more support, for a husband, for a family, but wishes didn't come true down in Manehatten. At least not for a single mother. She sighed again and started to prepare the apples. Soon a yawning filly entered the kitchen and the mare smiled gently to her.

“Good morning and a happy Hearths Warming, honey.”

“Good morning Mummy and a happy Hearths Warming too.

Uh, do we do Baking Apples again?”

The filly beamed in excitement and the mare nodded with a more hesitant smile.

“I'm afraid, we run out of honey or sugar.

I'm so sorry.”

The mares head drooped a little bit and she apologized, but the filly shrugged it of.

“Nah. I love them anyway.

And I love to make them with you Mummy.”

The beaming joy of the filly filled the mare and her smile widened again. Just now the filly spotted the brown present under the sock and her own smile widened more. Her eyes were starting to shine in excitement and she bounced on the place.

“Is that my present?”

Her happiness sounded clearly in her voice and her mother nodded. The filly rushed past her and lifted the present very carefully. First she looked at it, then she tried to shake it, but the mare laid a wing on her head and fondled her gently.

“You know the deal, honey.

First the apples,

then the meal

and finally the presents!”

The filly pouted, but set the present down. She nodded and looked over her back. She grabbed one small package from her back and laid it beside her present. The smile returned quickly, as she climbed on her chair, turned over and hugged her mum.

“I love you Mummy!”

She burst out and the joyful answer filled her with a warmth inside.

“I love you too, honey.

And I always will.”

So this is a past worth to remember, don't you think?

Nevertheless we have to move on.

So we left the memories of a filly behind and are entering an even more joyful present.

Author's Note:

This is the first part of the threeacter.
It featured Scootaloo
What a surprise, dont you think?
Have you enjoyed it, then please write a comment.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

Nice chapter

[Theponywriter22]

Very sweet and warming

[Elkia Deerling]

Awwww cute!