A Hearth's Warming Wassailing

by Airstream


Snow and Hospitality

This winter was one of the more severe in recent memory for Equestrians, the harvest having come early and being extremely bountiful, which most of the Earth pony families took as a sign that they should begin preparing. And prepare they had, getting in what they could and making sure that they would last the winter.

No such luck in the Everfree, however. The winter was far colder there, with clouds hanging in the air over the woods for days at a time, heavy with cold and snow, taking the effort of every available Pegasus to regulate at all, let alone clear. No stores had been made, because no crops had been planted in the newly cleared fields. The only thing the ponies of the Regia did not lack for was wood and water. So it was that the two mares in front of the fire in the highest tower of the ancient castle had a plentiful supply of tea, which they were currently putting to use.

“I wish we could eat trees, or some of the wild plants outside. But all the edible plants are dormant or rotted away, and we could never find them in large enough amounts anyway.” Twilight said, refilling her third cup of tea. She was attempting to fill up on the stuff in order to avoid eating so much food.

“It seems to me that most of the ponies down in the castle proper are handling themselves rather well.” Tarantella said, pushing a slice of buttered bread at her. She had taken it upon herself to ensure that Twilight did not, in fact, skip any more meals. “How long has it been since you’ve been out of the tower?”

Twilight thought about that. “A week? Maybe two? The last time I was out was for the rationing meeting, where I had to explain to ponies that they would be receiving half the food they normally would. It didn’t go over well.”

Tarantella looked at her levelly. “Define ‘Not well’.”

The unicorn mare sighed. “There was a fight that broke out among the ponies I was relaying the news to, the leaders for different groups of farmers. Not an actual physical altercation, but some pretty nasty things were said. That’s when I made the decision to try and find a solution to the rationing problem.”

“I think that you might want to take a look at the ponies under your command, Twilight. They might have surprised you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tarantella smiled mysteriously. “I mean, dear heart, that you might have underestimated those under you. Come, finish your meal. That means bread too. And then we will clean you up, and take a look at the castle you have left behind.”


The sky overhead was slate grey, an opaque wall of chilly cloud cover that hung in the air heavy with the promise of snow. Twilight caught sight of a team of Pegasi attempting to push holes in the clouds in order to let sunlight through. They were meeting with relatively little success, and actually appeared to be exacerbating the problem. As Twilight watched, one Pegasus kicked a cloud out of frustration, before grabbing his hoof in pain and diving out of the way of the sudden downpouring of snow. The effect rippled across the clouds, and she heard hoots and jeers of teasing derision from his comrades as they swooped down, catching the unfortunate weather pony and bearing him off to the medical center to get his hoof looked at. The first flakes began to fall on the already deep snow cover, which was chest high on Twilight already. She was glad for her scarf, which was keeping her warm enough to function decently in this mess.

She and Tarantella grinned despite themselves at the antics of the teams of Pegasi, who were taking a quick break from moving clouds to engage in aerial acrobatics with one another before returning to work. The walk from the Mage’s Keep, where Twilight kept her rooms, to the main keep, which was housing most of the families and the castle staff, was a short one, but the walk took much longer than it should have. They were not alone either. Other ponies roamed to and fro throughout the courtyard, greeting one another warmly despite their predicament. Twilight saw two ponies who had been bickering furiously the last time she had seen them sharing a quick hug before walking to their destination together, chattering amiably.

“What happened here?” Twilight asked as they walked.

“They realized how they were acting.” A voice came from behind them, as a young drake hit the ground in a puff of snow. Spike knelt briefly before straightening up and approaching the duo. “That is, they heard what you were up to in the tower, and decided to help any way they could.”

The unicorn was confused. “What do you mean? How did they find out what I was doing?”
The group continued walking through the snow. “Word travels fast when you’re cooped up with not much to do. The ponies heard everything, Twilight. How you weren’t eating, how you refused to sleep, all of it. And so they all decided to lay their differences aside and work together, because fighting wasn’t getting us anywhere. Besides, Hearth’s Warming Eve is in a few days. Who wants to spend it arguing?” Spike said.

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a clump of snow came hurtling through the air, impacting her squarely on the side of the head. Tarantella and Spike struggled to hold in their laughter as she picked herself up the ground with as much dignity as she could muster. The purple unicorn looked to see where it had come from. It certainly wasn’t hard to guess.

Two massive piles of snow had been collected, and then crudely assembled into walls, behind which all the youth of the Regia was gathered, slinging snowballs at one another. It was really the only part of the courtyard which was relatively free of snow, save for a small path running from the keep to the area. Several mothers stood nearby, supervising and making sure that the play wasn’t getting too rough. The surely epic struggle had ceased, however, as the assembled ponies looked on in horror at what they had done. Twilight pulled the snow from her mane as she trotted toward the assembled ponies, who knelt before their elected monarch in respect, awe, and a bit of fear. And well they should have. Her face was blank, unreadable, and she was flanked by a formidable warrior on one side and a dragon on the other. She compacted the lump of snow, forming a ball with her magic.

“Who threw this?” she asked, loud enough for the entire group to hear. “Step forward, please.”

After a brief pause, a small unicorn filly stepped forward, her speckled grey coat damp and dark. Her flank was adorned with a small urn or vessel, and she was shaking profusely, from fear or cold it was not certain. Twilight looked at her patiently. “What is your name?”

“P-P-Pepper P-Pot, Lady Twilight.”

“Well then, Pepper Pot. Were you the one that threw this?”

The filly nodded miserably. “Yes, Lady Twilight. It were an accident, I swear, I just wanted to see if I could use my magic to throw a snowball and-“

Twilight held up one hoof, cutting her off. “And you did. You hit me from halfway across the courtyard, you know.”

The filly was almost crying at this point. “I’m sorry, Lady Twilight.”

Twilight’s eyes sparkled. “Sorry? Goodness, filly, that was an excellent shot! Were you aiming for me?”

The filly, who had been averting her eyes, looked up in surprise. “Ma’am?”

Twilight craned her neck to both sides, peering into her ears. “There’s not snow in your ears, is there? I was wondering if you meant to hit me.”

Pepper Pot began to sense she might not be in trouble. “No, Lady Twilight. I was trying to hit Red Brick.”

Twilight nodded thoughtfully, straightening up and raising her voice. “Red Brick! Where are you?”

A colt roughly the same age as Pepper Pot came tumbling through the snow, his coat a dark red, true to his name. His flank was marked with a trowel. He executed a hasty bow, almost toppling over. “At your service, Lady Twilight.”

Twilight regarded him calmly before tossing the snowball at Pepper Pot gently, who caught it in a shaky magical grip. She addressed the pair of them. “Pepper, it’s never too early to practice this sort of thing, but you need to start small. Red Brick, hold still, alright?” The colt nodded.

Pepper Pot looked at the snowball and then back at Twilight. The lavender unicorn turned to Pepper Pot. “Now, go ahead and make your throw.” The unicorn filly grinned, and with gusto, whipped the ball of soft snow at Red Brick’s side, where it impacted with a dull *thud*. The colt bore the blow heroically, his lips curling in a tolerant grin.

Twilight turned to the rest of the fillies and colts, who were giggling softly. “Well, what are you all waiting on? Last time I looked, you all were having a snowball fight!” There was a cheer from the two sides, who resumed pelting one another with chunks of snow. Pepper Pot bowed once again, preparing to leave. “One more thing, Pepper. Where are your winter clothes?”

Pepper looked at her strangely. “Don’t have none, ma’am.”

Twilight frowned. “Aren’t you cold?”

The unicorn filly shrugged. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it, ma’am.”

Twilight didn’t say a word, unwrapping the scarf from around her own neck and tying it securely to that of the filly. It was a bit large, so she had to wrap it around twice, but Twilight could tell that the filly would be growing into it soon. “There. Keep that on, and when you feel cold, go inside. Understood?”

The unicorn nodded emphatically. “Thank you, Lady Twilight!” she said, her voice muffled by the scarf.

Twilight allowed herself a small smile. “You’re welcome. Now, go on and play.” She said, and watched as the filly sped off to resume her duties as a soldier.

It was only after she had gone that one of the grown mares watching them approached Twilight, bowing low. “Thank you, Lady Twilight. I’ll see to it that it’s returned after she is done using it.”

Twilight placed a hoof on the shoulder of the mare. “I’ll be fine without it. She needs it far more than I do. And besides, I’ve got a spare. She can keep it.”

The mare smiled shakily. “Many thanks, Lady Twilight. Her father and I, we’ve been trying to take apart some of our older things to make winter clothing for her. It’s coming along slowly though. He’s up on the weather team, so he needs all the warm clothing he can get. The rest goes to Pepper, though.”

Spike cut in. “Is it like this for everypony?”

The unicorn nodded. “It’s not really a problem. Night shift and day shift trade off clothing when they can. Most of the time it’s soggy, but better than nothing. All the spares have been cut up for the young ones.”

Twilight was disturbed by this. “That’s not right. Nopony should be doing their jobs in wet gear, it’s dangerous.”

The mare shrugged. “No more so than doing it without, which is what one half of the ponies working would have to do. And half of us being dry while the other half freezes isn’t worth it.”

Spike asked another question. “How many of the young ones do you think have warm clothes?”

“Well, there are about a thousand of them, I think. Not too many of the young ones stay here, most of those families go into hiding if they don’t come here. Of those I’d say…two hundred? Three hundred? Quite a bit less than half, I know. Though they are good about sharing, jut the other day I saw a group of four fillies walk by, one different boot on each hoof. And we do keep them warm, that’s not a problem. Warm and bathed regularly, so nopony is catching colds or similar. Really the only thing we’ve had issues with is clothing.”

“What about food?” Twilight asked. “I put ponies on half rations, surely that has to be bothering you.”

The mare laughed, gesturing her friends over. A few stayed to keep an eye on their charges, but soon Twilight was speaking to a group of ten or twelve mares, all smiling brightly at the chance to meet her. The unicorn mare Twilight was talking to turned to her friend. “Breeze, what did we do last night for dinner?”

The Pegasus laid a hoof along the side of her head in thought. “Let’s see…we brought the families together for a meal. Pooled what we had and there was enough for everypony, so long as no one got greedy. Think a few of the younger ones got seconds, too.”

An Earth pony nodded in agreement. “We had the same plan for tonight, right?”

The unicorn nodded her head. “Same plan, same time, same place.”

Another mare raised her hoof. “I’ve a question for you, Lady Twilight, if you don’t mind my asking.”

Twilight gestured for her to speak. “You don’t need to stand on ceremony with me. Right now we are talking about a common problem, no need for formality.”

The mare nodded. “Would you be wanting to join us for the evening meal, ma’am? That way you could see for yourself what it’s like. Sure, we’re bad off, but we’ve been worse before, most of us. You could see how things really are around the castle.”

Twilight carefully considered a reply, weighing pros and cons and selecting the right option. This careful mental preparation, however, was all for naught, as Tarantella jumped in. “We would love to. She’s not been eating much anyway. It will do her good to have some food and company. We will bring along food as well. I still have a few things from my journey. Your families won’t go hungry tonight.”

The unicorn mare waved one hoof. “If you come, that will be gift enough. Meal is at six, and we are very informal. Prepare for questions from the young ones, though, they think of you as some sort of wizard-princess-warrior, Milady.”

Twilight grinned. “We’ll be along at six, then. And please, call me Twilight.”