//------------------------------//
// Christmas 
// Story: The First Willowbrook Christmas 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

"Are you sure I have to dress like this?" Lilac stared at her reflection, ears folding and tail tucked between her legs. It didn't matter how formal the clothing looked, how close the family tailor had made it to her actual body—it was far from anything she would ever be willing to wear.
But Iris Vale and her family were not the sort of ponies to ask whether she wanted something or not. Lilac would do it because it was expected, and her complaint would mean nothing. "We used the same style as the ancient priestesses of the winter goddess," Iris said. She approached from behind until she was standing almost beside Lilac in the mirror.
They were nearly the same outfit, with a similar level of attention and care devoted to each detail. Clearly no expense had been spared for her ensemble. That did nothing to make her feel better. "I don't see the point of all this work. I'm not a priest for anyone. Shouldn't we be focused on celebrating the winter holiday?"
"Celebrating..." Iris turned away from her, gesturing for her to follow. "The rest of Equestria does. But we know the truth. We know that the events they repeat each year are a fictional construction."
"Maybe," Lilac argued, trailing behind her. She felt like someone's pet dressed up for the holiday, with a silly dress and an oversized red cap. At least this one wasn't fur-lined—but in some ways that would almost be better. "But should that matter? It's about having fun, the reasons aren’t important. We invent reasons to celebrate all the time."
If she somehow took photos of how she looked right now, and took them home to her world, no one who saw would have any idea they were looking at the same person.
At least they wouldn't be embarrassing her. Only Firefly knew the truth, because she had to go through all the same torture.
"Ordinarily, you might be right." Past Lilac's private restroom was a bedroom that made her blush just to look at. Despite her protests, the walls were still soft purple and the bed still filled with plush toys. It didn't matter how often she dislodged them before getting to sleep, the staff would always replace them when they made up the bed in the morning.
She might as well be fighting against the tide for all the good it did.
Fortunately they left quickly, back out into the house.
In Lilac Empathy's old world, she had not been wealthy enough to live in a mansion like this. But when she imagined how people like that would prepare for Christmas, she always saw things like the set of Warbucks's mansion in Annie—bright red ribbons everywhere, smiling servants in green vests, and lots of music.
Instead, the windows were all covered with white cloth, packed in so tight that not even a trickle of light emerged from outside. Only a single trail of candles remained in the middle of the house, leading the way for anypony who had somewhere to go.
"Your father is unhappy with the way we remember the holiday here in Willowbrook, so he always makes a point of being away on his duties. Where he goes, ponies repeat fanciful stories about friendship solving all of winter's ills. But by repeating that story, they make themselves vulnerable. Ponies reinforce a lie. If the Windigos return to their cities, they will remember and rely on that lie. They will freeze to death in their homes."
The great dining room sometimes hosted strange parties, where ponies came from all over the town wearing masks and robes. Lilac was rarely allowed to go anywhere near them. But she would've welcomed a gathering like that—at least it would mean that ponies were there.
Instead, the great house felt almost completely empty. Vale had at least twenty house servants that Lilac had met, and probably plenty more that worked in less visible roles. 
With all that talent and manpower, Lilac imagined a pretty epic Christmas party. Shame they didn't want anything to do with the holiday. 
There was at least one room decorated for the event—a shrine, constructed in a slightly sunken, round room on the first floor. The walls were covered in white curtains, with a few pale lanterns glowing in their glass cases.
The room was unadorned with furniture, and there wasn't so much as a cushion to sit on and relax. The only interruption in the entire huge area was the altar in the center.
This was finer than the one she walked past many times near the center of old town. Instead of stone, it was carved from fine wood, covered from one side to the other in ancient etching. Figures vaguely resembling eastern-style dragons encircled it from top to bottom, with little points of glittering blue stone for their eyes. 
The carpenter had been a master of their craft, creating a work that was lifelike and incredibly dynamic. Shame it was so hideous.
On its top surface was a polished metal blade, extending a few inches up from a low bowl. The blade was speckled with dark blood, and a faint brown residue glittered from the bottom. This was no mere decoration—someone had actually used it.
"I know you already made an offering at your institution," Iris said, directing her to the base of the altar. "We will not repeat it. But before we begin this day, we must supplicate ourselves before the winter goddess, and thank her for her ancient protection. For you, I suppose it may be closer to thanks offered to kindred. Nevertheless."
Those words hung in the air between them, forming their own strange pressure. Reminders of the Seers' dark beliefs. Even after living with me for half a year, she still thinks I'm one of their ancient gods, imprisoned in young flesh. 
Terrible things waited for both of them if the cultists discovered that they weren't gods of anything, and never had been. But she could never admit as much, just as she couldn't tell them about all the other problems with her body. The ancient gods were above caring about such petty inconveniences.
Lilac settled down on her haunches beside Iris, lowering her head as if in supplication to the carving. "She who guards the furtive fires against the cold," Iris whispered. "Whose eyes spy the comings and goings of every storm. Watch over us on this solstice. Let our fuel last until the cold relents, in your due time."
Lilac kept her head down until the little prayer was finished. The words were stranger than most she heard from the many local cultists, but not by much. 
There wasn’t a single servant in the space with them. She smelled no food cooking elsewhere in the house. She'd seen more happiness from an active shooter drill.
"Do you really think she can bless us from... all that distance?" Lilac asked, as they finally left the ritual shrine behind. "I remember being... that far away. I didn't have the power to protect anyone from winter."
Iris stiffened, freezing from her ears all the way back to her tail. "You should probably not say things like that where anypony else can hear," she whispered. "Perhaps it is true. But it is not as we are taught. Your power is undimmed by the depths of Abaddon you were cast into. You remain the true and just rulers of Equestria."
Except you had to summon us here. We couldn't reach on our own. More importantly, they didn't want to be here. She should be back in her own world, celebrating with her own family. Doubly so for Firefly—she would probably have a kid of her own by now. If they were already on the way, they'd be arriving with only one parent.
"Our worship is done for the day," Iris continued. "You may use the time however you wish. We are commanded not to adorn it with false worship as the Equestrians do. Their reverence of myth is not acceptable. Except—one instruction. Don't go into the mountains. Whatever peace you find there is not suitable for a night like this one. There may be cold spirits watching, and we should not test their strength."
"I won't!" she said. There was nothing much to see out there anyway—her magical patrons rested now for winter, and would not call on her again until the first thaw. She would know when the time came, because she would see the first breezie wings emerge from one of her indoor flower pots.
She scampered a few steps away, then stopped so abruptly her hooves slid along the polished wood floor. "We aren't going to... do anything tonight? No... festivities?"
"Absolutely not," Iris said. She was still standing where Lilac had left her, just outside the little ritual chamber. "We obey the commands we are given of the True Gods. Do not test me."
Lilac left without further argument. She returned to her room, then stripped out of the silly dress as quickly as she could. It was far from the worst thing she had been forced to wear in Equestria—but it was still a dress, which she rejected on principle.
She kept the hat, because it was red and felty and close enough to the real thing. The winter chill outside couldn't intimidate her beyond that, not with the endurance of an earth pony and her longer, winter coat of fur.
Changing into one of the silly things caused an endless list of inconveniences—but where there were benefits, she would accept them as the payment given for what she had to endure.
She hurried downstairs, then through a tiny door in the center of a hallway, meant to be hard to see. The people of Vale House were not required to interact with the servants much on a daily basis. Of course it was only another layer of inconvenience when she wanted to find somepony.
Thankfully, the one she was looking for was the son of the house steward, so she wouldn't have to wander through servants' passages until she got caught and kicked out.
He was waiting in their common room, already wearing a pair of little saddlebags. 
He hopped out of the chair as she approached, glancing nervously to either side. But there was nopony else in the room to see. "You know you aren't supposed to be here."
She shrugged one shoulder, ambivalent. "Maybe maybe, who cares? You ready?"
He groaned. "You mean am I ready to defy the traditions of a thousand years, and spend time with one of the dumbest pegasi in Willowbrook?"
Lilac stiffened, freezing in the doorway. "You don't have to come. I can still go alone."
Risk sighed. "I won't say anything to her. I just don't understand the point of being near her. There's nothing to celebrate. Hearth's Warming is a lie."
"Maybe maybe," she said again, turning her back on him. "I'm not celebrating that. Firefly and I remember a different holiday. Technically, it would've already happened in the place we came from. But this is a different world, so I say it happens whenever we feel like it."
Little Risk caught up with her by the time she reached the door. The front of House Vale had huge pillars and guards on duty at all times, with creepy statues to watch over her whenever the ponies weren't around. The servant exit, by contrast, blended into the wall when it was closed, and barely even had a walkway leading out.
Risk shivered the instant he was out in open air, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. "Couldn't we stay inside?"
"We will stay inside," she countered. "Firefly's place. She should be ready to start the party about now. I've never actually been there before."
"You'll wish you didn't," Risk said. "I've watched her fly home sometimes. She's in the spookiest looking tower you ever saw. Our extra weight might knock it over."
"Then you better practice your teleports now," Lilac said. "Because we're going."



The wind was particularly fierce that day. From the moment Firefly woke, she found herself fighting against the structure of her rooftop home. Windows opened practically on their own, filling the space with blasts of snow and blisteringly cold air. Eventually she lit the fireplace with the largest fire she could, and covered up every window and opening.
There were some benefits to having a father who collected random crap from the ruins he explored in the Cumulus Maze—it meant they had plenty of blankets and fabric to hang over every entrance. Eventually she resorted to covering up every door too, except for the bathroom. 
"They're angry," Dusty whispered, at what she guessed was around midday. "Everypony says we aren't supposed to remember today. When we repeat Equestria's lies, we lose the protection of its True Gods."
Firefly rolled her eyes, but couldn't reply. She had a burning stick in her mouth, which she used to light candle after candle. It was about the right time for her best friend to arrive. Once Lilac was here, everything would be perfect.
Firefly wasn't the best cook. Equestria had no meaningful concept of "roast," so she had to do with a substitute made mostly of wheat and oats. At least they had honey, and some other festive spices. 
It was far from a perfect job—but as she lit the last candle, even Firefly had to admit it looked pretty good. The flickering orange light, smell of allspice, and homemade decorations—she'd definitely celebrated worse Christmases before. This beat anything from when she was deployed, anyway. Couldn't get ham in Afghanistan either.
"It's just a structural thing," she argued, once she had the little lighter extinguished. "Now we've got it all covered up. Just be ready to help me get it open again when my friends get here."
Her dad might be useless at decorating for the event, and worse than useless at cooking—but at least he was permissive. How many other parents would let their little filly decide how to spend her own holiday?
Firefly knew when her friend was coming not from any sound, but by the gentle sway to the building that meant someone was on their way upstairs. She rushed to get a few final preparations done, pulling the huge plate of twice-baked potatoes out of the oven to join their not-roast.
Then she heard the voices. Only two, despite her hopes that Velvet might be coming along for the Christmas meal as well. Poor little orphan, she didn't deserve to be alone for the holidays any more than Firefly and Lilac. But she couldn't force the bat to show up, or she would hide from Firefly for another few weeks, until she reemerged far into the future.
Firefly bounced nervously up and down in front of the door, adjusting the feathers in her wings so none of the green poked up from the top. If she had a few more days to prepare, maybe she could've made something cute to wear. But that last part was probably for the best—Lilac would make fun of her if she wore a dress.
Then came the knock, followed by nervous muttering on the other side. "This can't be it. Nopony should live in a place like this. This building should probably be condemned."
"Help me with...right here." Firefly lifted the heavy blanket they had over the front door, squeezing under it with one leg. The air on the other side was freezing cold, but she could endure it. Firefly's coat wasn't just fur, there were downy feathers underneath, insulating her for flights in the upper air. Not that she enjoyed being cold, hence the fire.
One hoof appeared overhead, pushing the blanket aside for her. She got the knob into her mouth, then managed to open it. 
Cold air blasted through the opening, catching her wings and flinging her backward. She slid a few steps, facing into the wind. Snow was coming down hard outside, a cold far fiercer than the day before.
Two little ponies huddled together in the cold. Even with a heavy jacket, Little Risk was clearly the worse for wear. Snow clung to his coat in places, leaving his face faintly blue around the edges. Lilac had no coat and no scarf, and had plenty of thick white flakes clinging to her. Yet she didn't seem to notice. 
"Firefly? Hope you've got something warm in there, my friend wasn't ready for the trip."
Firefly nodded, gesturing for them to come in. "It's nice in here, but it won't be if you let the heat out! Get in!"
Lilac had to drag the unicorn through the door. But considering how bad he looked, he probably wouldn't even survive the return trip, if he turned back the way he'd come.
Once they were inside, and the blanket was back in place, the oppressive cold began to fade. Firefly brought a few towels, so they wouldn't ruin the already awful floor with a fresh lake. "Food's almost done. Hope you're ready for the best holiday ever."
Lilac followed her into the kitchen. She walked slowly, taking in every detail of the strange house.
Firefly's wings snapped closed, and she looked down in shame. "I know we don't have... as much as you. It's no House Vale."
Lilac nudged her shoulder in a light, pony hug. It was quite a bit colder than usual, since the filly still had snow in her coat. "I wasn't gonna say that. I love what you did with the decorations. Just missing the flashing lights, and some of the music."
"We can sing later," Firefly said. She was beaming again. "Some of them are impossible, but some aren't. I tried them while I was cooking, made a list."
"Perfect." Lilac let go, then turned back the way she'd come. "Mr. Storm. Thanks for letting us visit for the holidays. Risk and I are very grateful."
Risk nodded, shaking free of a soaking-wet towel. "Barely... made it up all your steps."
The older pegasus shrugged his wings. "My daughter insisted this was the proper way to memorialize the occasion. Family, friends, food—clearly she knows something I do not."
He followed her into the kitchen, then stopped beside her, wrapping one wing around her shoulder. Unlike Lilac, the pegasus was actually warm from spending the morning inside with her. Maybe she should act embarrassed all the time like Lilac—but why should she? Dusty did his best, many parents couldn't say the same.
"A few things," she agreed, grinning back up at him. "Like how to cook. You better give it a chance, Dad—it's supposed to be really good." 
"Sure, sweetheart. I can tell you put your heart into it."
The night was everything Firefly could've imagined. The wind raged outside, carrying a downpour of snow that blanketed Willowbrook beneath it. But no matter how angry it got, it couldn't overcome the friendship inside Firefly's little apartment.
It wasn't the life Firefly wanted; it wasn't even the universe Firefly wanted. But with at least one friend from home, it could be enough. She couldn't say the words, but she could still have a Merry Christmas.