A Holiday After All

by Gullywasher

Treasured Carols of A First Eve

She was broke, both financially and in spirit. The unicorn and her younger sister had moved to a small town seemingly in the middle of nowhere to start their lives anew after a fallout with their parents. The younger unicorn was eager to begin her new life by making new friends and going on new adventures; the elder struggled to make ends meet as a dressmaker who had left behind the chance for fame and fortune in her previous career.

The filly adapted better to the situation than her sister could; she was oblivious to the fact that a single ruined dress – a single disappointed client who refused to pay – would mean that paying the rent on the modest building they called their home might pose a problem.

Such was not her worry to suffer. At her tender young age, the young filly had nothing more serious to think about than how and when her blank flank would be adorned with her well-deserved, long-awaited cutie mark.

As the season of Hearth’s Warming found itself upon them, the little town they had taken refuge in, known as Ponyville, began to sparkle with bright lights hanging off of the trees and strung up along the roofs of the houses. The unicorns, never ones to break tradition, found a perfect little conifer outside and brought it home to decorate.

The signs of the season were everywhere. Each pony eagerly awaited their foal’s performances in the annual winter school plays, and carolers could be found eagerly trotting from door to door, singing ever-cheerfully and looking for nothing in return but smiles from the townsponies. Sugarcube Corner was eternally packed with ponies either searching for gifts or merely hoping to satisfy that holiday sweet tooth. Ponyville was not a snowy place by any means, but the pegasi, getting into the spirit of things, had whipped up an impromptu ice storm that had turned the land into something of a winter wonderland. The colts at the schools were becoming increasingly restless, discussing their upcoming vacation time and what presents they thought their parents had secretly wrapped and hidden from them.

The days sped by, and the town grew increasingly cheerful. Yet the elder unicorn was unable to find as much joy as was expected from the season. The postmare would stop by her house every so often, but empty-hooved, carrying only greetings but no gifts. The unicorn was worried that her sister’s first Hearth’s Warming spent away from home would be remembered for what it wasn’t rather than for what the unicorn had hoped that it would be.

The unicorn, though she did enjoy her shopping, carefully planned her gifts; her limited bits were spent on small items: a storybook here, a toy or two there, as well as some wrapping paper and ribbons to finish the job. She hoped that it would be enough to make what little would be underneath the tree seem like more than there really was.

A few evenings later, after her sister had been put to bed, the unicorn lay in a room illuminated only by the fireplace and the solitary ring of lights wrapped around their small tree, worrying about the fact that she wasn’t able to offer her sister what she deserved. She tried to tell herself that Christmas wasn’t about the gifts, and that it was more about spending time with her family, but sadly realized that she wouldn’t be able to offer that either. As the first few tears formed in her eyes, she almost failed to notice the knocking at her front door.

The mailmare stood there, presenting the unicorn with a message from a good friend she had met after coming to Ponyville. Her letter remained upbeat despite the contents of the note; she explained that her house had been destroyed due to a number of factors including the weather, and so she would be looking for a place to stay that Christmas – would it be okay if she and some of her family stopped in and spent a few nights there?

The unicorn was overjoyed that she would be spending her Christmas with some company, and her spirits were slightly buoyed at this news. That in itself was, to her, a welcome gift.

The next day, when her guests had arrived, they found the house spotless. As soon as the fillies found out they’d be spending Christmas together, their enthusiasm lit up the room with the strength of a thousand of Celestia’s suns, while the adults sat down and eagerly awaited the heavenly-smelling haycakes that were currently baking in the oven. They talked over the apples that the guests had brought, and bonded some more, until the unicorn’s friend’s brother, a striking red stallion, suggested that the girls would have a great time spending a night on the town. They soon departed, leaving the stallion behind to rest.

A few hours later, flushed from the cold and the excitement of the night, they returned home to find her friend’s brother asleep on the couch. As the unicorn prepared to say something to her friend, her eyes caught the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Gifts upon gifts that had not been there before were piled underneath the tree, the various colors of wrapping paper creating a sight not unlike the mane of a certain pegasus she had met. Ornaments that had been added to the tree shone with the reflections of the new strings of light that hung merrily from the tree and above the stockings over the fireplace. A figure of Celestia seemed to smile down at the unicorn from the top of the tree; she couldn’t help but smile back.

In the years that followed, the dressmaking unicorn managed to carve a name for herself in the fashion business. She is old now; her sister has long since grown into a fine young mare, having found her singing cutie mark while going door-too-door with carolers. The younger unicorn works as a voice coach now, helping colts and fillies alike to realize their talents while getting to do what she loves. Yet each year, when the winter season broaches the air and the holidays are upon them, she and her sister spend some time together and think back to the time that they received the unexpected act of loving kindness from the farm pony and her big brother.

To this day, it remains the fondest of Rarity’s Hearth’s Warming memories.

canon? what's that?