Spirit of Generosity

by Flint Sparks


From the heart.

Twilight hummed to herself as she stirred her hot chocolate, freshly heated. After stirring precisely twenty-one times clockwise (and a single stir counter-clockwise, just to be sure), she lifted the spoon with her magic and set it in the sink. A tentative sip ensured a delectable taste, allowing the satisfied mare to leave her kitchen and head upstairs.

“Oh, woops! Almost forgot the marshmallows!” Twilight giggled as her horn shined bright, summoning a small bag and extracting two of the delicious treats. Returning the bag to its rightful place, she continued up the stairs of the grand library.

A slight draft blew, spurring her to glance out the window. White dominated her vision as winter ruled outside. The weather team had scheduled a small controlled blizzard, and had apparently done their job well. She felt a slight chill that morning and put on proper winter attire: an azure sweater, a fluffy hat, and a simple red scarf to stave off the cold.

“Spiiike!” Twilight called to her number one assistant, approaching from the top of the stairs. “I made you some nice cocoa,” she said as she levitated the warm mug to the lounging dragon. Spike was sprawled in his bed, reading one of his comic books with a bored expression. Casually, he plucked the mug from Twilight’s magical grasp.

“Thanks Twi,” he droned after taking a sip, his eyes never leaving the page.

As Twilight passed by him to creep onto her own bed, she couldn’t help but glance at the comic he was reading. Power Ponies, obviously enough, but the page intrigued her. A full-page spread of the heroine Radiance, one of Spike’s favorites, using her powers in a dynamic action pose. However, that wasn’t what caught her attention. Has he been reading the same page for ten minutes?

Once comfortable in her classic reading position, Twilight levitated her ink and scrolls to the foot of the bed. Due to a few international incidents in recent events, Twilight was swamped with her princess duties. Princess Celestia, in all her wisdom, had finally enrolled Twilight in a new lesson: politics. Today’s workload had left her little time to greet her friends, and her eyelids were already growing heavy. The only break she had taken in the last two hours was to get Spike hot chocolate after he went outside in the snow. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

“Hey Spike,” Twilight asked, finishing a scroll for the Saddle Arabian ambassador. “Did you ever finish that gift for Rarity?”

Spike immediately perked up, a reaction Twilight slyly anticipated. He turned around to answer, the blanket slightly sliding off. Surprisingly enough, he still wore the scarf.

“Yeah!” he shouted, lost in his excitement. He scrambled out of his bed and under Twilight’s, thrusting his arm out in search of his hidden treasure. He paused for a moment to feel for a particular object. Once he was sure it was the right one, he pulled out a small wooden box and presented it to Twilight.

Twilight lightly pulled it from his grip with her magic and lifted the box to her eyes. She gingerly opened it and peered inside. “Oh Spike, it’s beautiful!” she cried, carefully lifting out the gift with magic.

A carefully crafted white fabric embroidered with tiny sapphires, each cut into a perfect rhombus. The sapphires sparkled in the light, as if they contained the ocean itself. High quality and cut perfectly, not the usual gem dug from the ground. Without anything pulling on it, the sapphires connected to form a tiny jewel-band. The fabric was noticeable on the inside and allowed the band to stretch without fear of breaking the jewels, something Twilight noticed with an experimental tug. She wasn’t much of a craftspony, much less an appraiser, but it was obvious that the jewelry was professional grade at the very least.

“Yeah, it’s a scrunchy,” Spike answered, twiddling his thumbs. “Some kind of hair band ponies wear in their manes. Rarity might need one when she’s sewing, but she doesn’t like them because ponytails mess up her mane… so I thought she might an exception if, uh..”

“If it was fashionable enough?” Twilight interjected, helping the tongue-tied dragon. He nodded in confirmation. She glanced at the fancy accessory once more, admiring the work, before putting it back in its rightful container. She lifted the box to him with magic, allowing him to replace it underneath the bed for safekeeping. Once he stood up, she popped the question on her mind. “I have to say Spike, that’s quite the generous gift. Where’d you get it?”

Spike froze in place, standing at the side of the bed.

“Spike…” Twilight purred as a small blush painted Spike’s cheeks. She couldn’t help but allow her smug, knowing smile to widen. “You didn’t..?”

“Okay, fine!” Spike stomped his foot and crossed his arms. “I made it, alright?”

“That explains why all the books and gems keep getting reshelved. Somepony was studying, wasn’t he?” Twilight chuckled as she picked up a new scroll, unrolling it and beginning to scribble new passages with her quill. “You know, that’s quite the work you’ve put in there. Not many ponies would go that for a simple gift, even for that special somepony.”

“I guess.” Spike shrugged, trudging toward bed. “But Rarity is the most beautiful pony I know, and I just wanted her gift to be… special.”

Twilight fidgeted, Spike’s tone was sincere. She couldn’t help but feel the pride rise in her chest. “You’re growing into a fine young dragon, you know,” Twilight mused, glancing at her young assistant. “She’s going to love it. That’s quite generous of you.”

“Heh. Generous, me?” Spike grunted with a dash of humor. “Rarity’s the generous one, I’m just a baby dragon.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, her eyes tracing Spike’s elongated appendages. He wasn’t much taller than when he first arrived in Ponyville, but a recent growth spurt and a new inch hinted at future implications. He isn’t going to be a baby for long. “Yes, Spike. Generous. Deal with it,” she teased, sticking her tongue out.

“Yeah…” Spike flipped open his comic, his eyes regaining their dull shine as he fiddled with the masterly-woven, forest-hued scarf Rarity had gifted to him early for the upcoming winter months. “Generous…”


Rarity cowered before the giant construct before her, which resembled a gem. Her heart pounded in her chest, her legs shaking in sheer terror, and her hooves stuck to the ground to prevent her flight. The ethereal being, resembling a lavender gem with wisps of white magical energy swirling around it, merely towered above Rarity and allowed its awesome presence to be felt by the mere mortal whisked to its realm.

Rarity managed to open her eyes, squinting due to the awe she had felt in the gem’s realm. Her surroundings were merely hues of gold, lavender, and ivory; if any physical constructs existed, they were beyond her mortal comprehension. She was in a spirit’s realm, at the mercy of its denizen and its unknown motive .

“RARITY,” the spirit roared, shaking whatever foundation laid underneath Rarity’s hooves. She lowered her head and meekly covered it in fear. The strange spirit resembled a lavender gem, like her Element of Harmony. Exactly like her Element.

“Y-yes?” Rarity whimpered, peeking through her hooves. Confusion stacked on top of fear, for the last thing she remembered was falling asleep at the sewing machine. Her arrival in the realm was unexpected, to say the least.

“MISS RARITY, BEARER OF THE ELEMENT OF GENEROSITY, YOU HAVE DISAPPOINTED ME.” The gem spirit paused, as if it expected Rarity to defend herself. The pitiful pony continued to shake, her lips quivering and eyes watering. The gem gave an audible sigh, continuing to shake its realm. “ON THE DAY OF GIVING, FROM THE WARMTH OF ONE’S HEART, YOU HAVE FAILED YOUR ONE ROLE IN HARMONY. FOR THAT, YOU SULLY THE NAME OF THE VERY ELEMENT YOU REPRESENT AND, IN TURN, ME.”

This revelation managed to snap Rarity out of her stupor, allowing her to rise to her hooves. “Y-you? I sullied your name?” she asked, slowly backing away. There was nowhere to run, she knew, but instinct nearly overpowered rationality.

“YES, FOR I AM GENEROSITY,” the gem roared. The white wisps flowing through its aura whisked away to Rarity. The frightened pony struggled as the magic raised her and brought her before the massive gem. Several yards above the ground, Rarity could only flail about as she levitated closer and closer to the gem. “AND FOR ONE DAY… SO SHALL YOU BE!”

The white wisps began to circle around Rarity in their invisible hold, spinning and spinning around her until they became white blurs. “What are you doing to me? Let me go, you monstrous brute!”

“INSULTS, DARLING, WILL NOT SAVE FACE. OVERCOME MY TRIAL AND PROVE YOUR PLACE.”

Rarity’s vision began to fade as the white grew in intensity and blinded her, causing her to lose consciousness once more.

“Prove my place..?”


Rarity woke up with a start. Her head pounded along with her heart. She lifted her head from the table, by the machine, the winter sun reflecting off the metal with a luminescent sheen. Glancing at the clock, she noticed she was late. Time to present her presents or miss the date. Generosity had reminded her to be generous, her gifts for her friends so precious. She quickly scanned her Boutique, a sight quite unique, and strapped on her saddlebag fitted for her physique. With a satisfied whinny and a fabulous flair, the gorgeous Rarity cantered outside into the fresh air.

Outside flew the mailmare, delivering in rain and snow. Seeing Rarity, she said, “Hello!”

Rarity froze to reply, politeness demanding a simple ‘hi.’ Instead of shelving an encounter sure to irk, Rarity’s gift of a curse began to work. “Hello Miss Derpy, dear darling. This snow is sure to leave your mane sparkling!” In an instant, she covered her mouth with a hoof. Her dream was no dream, surely this was proof? Derpy didn’t rhyme, nor did she have the right time, or perhaps the curse was not in its prime? Thinking quickly, rather meekly, she said, “Derpy, darling. Do I strike you as peculiar?”

“I dunno, you seem familiar?

Rarity facehoofed, a massive impact on her face. Contrary to her character, but her mind was madly paced. A curse of rhyme, for a day’s time, would be fine if Rarity could mime, but alas was no turn of a dime. A simple nap turned into a nightmare, a predicament that would not end fair. Poor, poor mare.

“Thank you darling, but I must be on my way. I bid you a cheerful and delightful holiday!” Rarity waved goodbye and passed the mare, her eyes adjusting to the deep snow’s glare. The weather team had outdone themselves, as each year they improved, hardly a stray cloud they had to revisit and remove. Even within the cold breeze, Rarity tuckered on. She may be a unicorn, but she remained strong. Curse or no curse, she would meet her friends. To give them their presents, no matter the end. If it weren’t for the constant singing, she would be in fright. The song of the heart was far from a blight.

The first stop was Pinkie Pie, a joyous pony indeed. Her gift was a silly hat with streamers, representing Laughter’s creed. A knock on the door to a glomp to the floor. Her grateful smile was worth all the gold in the world, causing Rarity’s lips’ corners to curl. Rarity wished to stay, but had no time to bake. Instead, Rarity bid her a happy holiday with the Cakes. Back to the snow from the Corner’s warmth, Rarity set out toward the north.

Rainbow Dash was next, the weather team’s elite. Usually resting, her celebrations discrete. Rarity shouted from the ground, expecting jubilation. Instead, she met Rainbow’s listless flight and dreary expression. Unusually quiet, and not quite rambunctious, Rarity found Rainbow’s act unnerving… perhaps anxious. She was not a quiet pony, instead quite rash. Except today, of course, but alas.

“Is something wrong, Rainbow Dash?” Rarity asked, sincerity in her tone. Instead of an answer, she received a bemused moan. Her friend’s eyes were shifty, as if she saw a sprite. A twitch of her wings, or a trick of the light?

“Rarity, I’m fine, why worry? I’m kinda busy, so I have to hurry. Somepony told me about some storm clouds that got stuck. If I don’t get over there, the blizzard will go amok.”

Rarity gasped, becoming quite aghast. “Surely you’re joking, the storm’s come to pass! The snow is beautiful, you deserve a commendation. Surely your theory is a slight exaggeration?” Rarity leaned to the side with a draining complexion. “Say, why does your home lack decoration? I don’t mean to force a correction, but have you no celebration?”

“Rarity, stop. I don’t want your accusation,” Rainbow said, her wings twitched in agitation. “I celebrate my own way, not to your satisfaction. I’m the awesomenest pony throughout, there isn’t any doubt. I’ve just been a little busy and been running about.”

Rarity couldn’t help but feel as if that was a lie, but Rainbow’s pleading look begged her to not try. With a tip of her horn with hardly any grooves, Rarity’s exchanged her gift between hooves. Strong as a horse and quick as a volt, Rarity decided on a dress for the aspiring Wonderbolt. Another party, a new event loomed ever near; this dress would ensure Rainbow would have no fear.

Leaving Rainbow’s large house, Rarity continued her mission. The rhyming was silly, but never threatened submission. One pegasus down, one to go. Better gallop or I’ll be slow!

Rarity made haste, the sun sinking in the sky. Dusk was not quite close, but Rarity did not want try-

“It’s patience!” screamed the voice of a young filly. Rarity stopped to view a small group acting quite silly. Her little sister, and Sweetie Belle’s two friends, were playing a game and nearing the end. On the covered table of a nice restaurant, Sweetie Belle scribbled with a pencil in legible font. Crosswords, a game meant for an intellectual professor, was being completed by three fillies with hardly a stupor.

“Well that was fun, but I have to go home...”

“Applejack is serving supper, Ah probably shouldn’t roam…”

“Thanks girls, I didn’t mean to misspell so many. Oh well, back to the ‘home’ for me.” Scootaloo joked, her situation quite clear. With only a friendly matron to celebrate, her holiday was somewhat drear. Rarity briefly reflected on the situation, questioning to intervene. Her thoughts were interrupted by her friend, as if by a dream. Fluttershy demanded haste, if but a bit mean.

Rarity galloped post-haste, making up for lost time. Her hooves got a bit dirty, irksomely with disgusting grime. At the cottage, she quickly wiped off. She knocked on the door as she shook off frost.

“Hello Rarity, what’s this? Oh, I don’t need… I guess if you insist.” Fluttershy took the presented gift from her friend, resolving to open it there and make a shy amend. Natural instinct was to shy away, but her friend’s constant resolve managed to sway. Inside the small package was a single check, a certificate for a spa visit in case the mare’s appearance needed respect. “Oh thank you thank you!” Fluttershy said as her grateful voice raised in pitch. “With a heart so generous, you must be a-”

“Witch,” Rarity abruptly corrected, feeling oddly frazzled. “I meant to be selfless, but slightly bedazzled. Our spa trips together are dear from the greatest treatment to a simple trim, but occasionally I feel you might want to go on a whim. I may not always accompany you, little sweetheart, but here’s a bit of me if you choose to depart.”

“Thank you,” Fluttershy bowed with a smile. “I wish I could stay, but I need to attend to Angel. He’s quite hungry, and all my animals must be fed. I hope you have a good holiday, but you must go ahead.”

Rarity cocked her head, feeling somewhat confused. No decorations, no spirit, she couldn’t help but feel bemused. Was she like Rainbow, with a lack of tradition? All ponies had some spirit, just their own rendition. The play was an anomaly, a celebration together. But with the two alone and apart, they seemed like birds of a feather. Shaking her head, Rarity bid adieu. Turning back to the path, she continued through.

Her stomach grumbled with the slightest anger, the pit of her innard felt like an anchor. Thoughts of sweet apples and pies and an enormous feast were enough to awaken the indomitable beast. Rarity galloped, trotted, and ran. No one could stop her, not even Pan.

It finally came into sight: salvation, heaven, the barn. Applejack’s family, sure to spin a tale’s yarn. Grannie Smith was bound to cook a mean pie, the young siblings helping out eager and spry. Rarity unwillingly salivated and drooled at the thought, then quickly recovered and cleanliness was brought.

In the flash of her hunger and the heat of her flight, Rarity hardly noticed her saddlebag was becoming light. A gift for her friend Applejack and then off to the library back in town, unless the farmer wanted her to stick around.

Applejack greeted her at the door, a warm welcome for her comrade. Friendly to all; friends and family (including Babs). “Howdy Rarity, what brings you to these parts?”

“Oh darling, I brought a gift from the heart. For the lovely farmer, a warm coat. Not too fancy, but enough to dote.” Rarity handed her the package, wrapped tight. Applejack wasn’t too fashionable, but she didn’t fight. Grateful and happy, she invited Rarity in. Hospitality refused to let her face the cold wind.

Kind Apple Bloom fetched a towel for their guest to dry off. Rarity used her magic for reach, finding the fabric felt quite soft. Applejack chatted, allowing Rarity to warm, talking about business and their farm. Once comfortable, she was led to the kitchen to delicious odor. Applejack’s muzzle scrunched, as if she was playing poker. Rarity grew concerned, remembering her friend’s sensitivity. Was she playing a trick, or disliked the activity? She was welcomed in, of course, but the stranger things could make a pony hoarse.

Rarity sat at the table, next to the strong Big Mac. She couldn’t help but notice his muscles, power upon power stacked. His siblings returned, ready to eat. Their bellies empty, their manners neat. Granny brought in the soup, delicious with a scent of crops. The Apple siblings dug in, relishing the lack of slop.

Rarity, a lady of class, resisted the urge to dig in. She would take it slow, as if she were drinking gin. She lowered her head and gave a tentative sip, careful as to not dip. Unicorns were unskilled with their hooves unlike their cousins, and were prone to social poisons. She could use magic, cheat, by using her horn. However, that’d be rude, unless she was eating corn. Even in manners, Rarity had limitations. She wouldn’t, however, let it impact her affections.

It was delicious as expected, nothing less from an Apple. Anything else would leave the expectant mare baffled. Oddly enough, it lacked the specialized taste. Apple soup without apple, perhaps it was served post-haste?

“Darling, that was wondrous and a delightful soup. I don’t mean to impose, but may I serve next for the group? I’m still chilled and a bit peckish,” Rarity asked, her voice laced with relish.

“No sugarcube,” Applejack said, turning away. “I wouldn’t mind, if there was a way…”

Rarity’s ear twitched, a distracting pain inside. She wished to swat it, but would rather avoid a chide. “What was that, darling? All I heard was a ring.”

“Oh, nothing!”

The family and friend cleaned their bowls, returning them to wash. When Rarity spilled, she only went, “Gosh!” Other than the small spill, the five remained clean. They scrubbed and scrubbed until the dishes gleaned. Rarity realized the meal would not continue, but paid no heed. She was a generous mare, no need to have greed.

I am generous, aren’t I? I’ve only thought of my friends alike. Generosity in spirit, not greedy with spite. She pondered the thought, wondering why her curse hadn’t broken. Perhaps Twilight’s gift would be the cure, or crack the mystery open.

Applejack led her out, to the living room. She passed by the rocking chair, a fireplace, and a dusty broom. Rarity looked around, noticing a lack of decor. “Applejack, dear, everything’s bare as your floor! Did you forget the holiday, are you not feeling gay? Perhaps I can help, if I’m permitted to stay.”

Applejack shook her head and tipped her hat. “You’re mighty kind, I’ll give ya that. But Rarity, it’s getting dark and cold. Perhaps ya should head home while you’re still bold. As much fun as it sounds, ya shouldn’t be stuck here. Home is safer, and better you’ll fare. Goodnight Rare, I love ya girl.”

Rarity blushed and gave her friend a quick hug, receiving a quick nuzzle and a dismissive shrug. Quickly, she made her exit. Once out the door, she noticed the sun to set. Hurrying quick, afraid to miss her visit. Twilight was expecting, but her day was far from hectic.

During her steady trot, Rarity began to wander. Deeper and deeper, engrossed in thoughts yonder. She had given today, and foregone being greedy. Certainly she wasn’t perfect, if but a bit needy. Was that a cause for a curse, would her non-singing lips remain pursed?

Ponies passed by, of all shapes and disposition. Many were happy, expressing positive emotion. A few colts tumbled, a few fillies pranced, mares and stallions alike sang and danced. A curious sight caught her eye, prompting her to approach. She kept her distance to avoid rash reproach. It was the stallion, mister Thunderlane. His coat was clean, as was his mane.

Bold Thunderlane presented a gift to a friend, his words laced with warmth. The mare gladly accepted, Rarity recognized Blossomforth. She peeked at the gift as she passed by, and couldn’t help but critique on the sly. It was a shoddy gift, a cheap necklace. Strangely enough, it left the mare breathless. Rarity gulped and quickened the pace, the lovely couple had begun to suck face. What did she see when he had hardly any to give? He could’ve done more, having money but being stiff.

One last pony she passed by on her way to the tree; he laid quiet, somber, and passive on the street. A measly bum, one of those dirty folk. Based on his appearance, his poverty was no joke. Rarity nearly choked at the sight of his mangy mitts, without a second thought she tossed out a bit.

She finally made to the library, with light and at last. She knocked on the door and awaited a warm blast. The draft blew her warm as Twilight stood by, her magic horn glowing and her wings ready to fly. Twilight looked exhausted, her eyes dressed with bags. Rarity wouldn’t remark, but even her walking legs dragged. She invited her in for some tea and talk, warning her that business had grown hot. With little time to spare, Rarity presented her gift. Friends to the end, a special gift without rift.

“Twilight, darling, come take a look. I know you may be tired, but I brought you a book. It’s the history of our nation, a compilation. I know you’d find delight with each answered question.” Rarity gave a bow to the princess, ignoring her friend’s creed. Even the humble princess deserved respect, indeed.

“Oh, thanks Rarity, this book is delightful. You’re so sweet, so kind, so thoughtful. I hate to cut this short and be cruel, but my schedule is full….” Twilight paused with an introspective spark. An idea formed, the creative’s spark. “I’m going to go up and see how things fare. SPIKE! Come downstairs!”

The busy alicorn passed by the trudging dragon, giving a nudge to go on as if he drove a wagon. Once he laid eyes on the mare, he instantly brightened. All his sorrows and ails were quickly forgotten. He gave a shy wave, almost depraved, but shrugged and rubbed his head to be brave. “Hey Rarity, didn’t mean to seem blue.”

“Oh Spikey-wikey, it’s good to see you too.” Rarity raised an eyebrow, curious for the rhyme. All her presents delivered, wasn’t it time? No matter, her dragon had arrived. Nearly head-height and wearing his scarf as attire. Masterfully crafted by the seamstress herself, she had given the present early to avoid its shelf. Spike wore it proudly, for which Rarity adored, but his breaks in enthusiasm made her think she struck a chord.

Rarity snorted, her thoughts engrossed. Not even her mind was safe, the curse had imposed. She had been generous and given without a thought, why else would this curse of hers become fraught? She mindlessly chatted with Spike, her mind afloat. So distracted, she wouldn’t have noticed if Spike became a goat. They talked of gems, fashion, and friends. Their lessons learned and the ones they amend.

“You are a fool since the minute you woke out of bed,” spoke a familiar voice inside her head. It drove Rarity to jolt, to the concern of her friend.

Who are you, you uncouth brute? Get outside my temple or I’ll give you the boot!

“Rarity, darling, have you not yet learned? This is a lesson among lessons you have surely earned. You focused on giving, but neglected your friends. True generosity is generous, not a means to an end.”

The riddle confounded Rarity, leaving her dazed. Spike moved to help her, but she was not fazed. What do you mean by that, you insufferable sprite? I did much for my friends and moved into the light. Harmony is of friendship, and friendship is magic; to deny such a truth leave one’s life so tragic. My element is Generosity, I give without heed. I give without prompt, to those with great need.

“Perhaps so, that is your creed. I never punished you for selfishness or plightful greed. Your intentions have been well, but you’ve been playing a game. You give to give, but have you lost your way? Something is amiss with your friends of six, retrace your steps and discover the trick. An eye for art, an art for beauty, to see what is unseen is now your duty.”

I-I don’t know what you mean… how can the unseen without magic become seen?

“Start with the Apples and their hospitality. Learn the truth within a discovery.”

“That’s quite strange, an anomaly,” Rarity whispered calmly. She had a feeling it had to do with the farm, but she doubted botany. She looked up, at the concerned drake. It was time for honesty, to give subtlety a break. “Spikey dear, riddle me this: In the Apple farm, what lies amidst?”

Spike stepped back, twiddling his thumbs. His face flushed as if he was drinking rum. “Haven’t you heard? They go light on the fun. With apples off-season, they keep a tight fund. I’m sure if you stopped by, they treated you nice. But during the winter, it’s like they live on rice. They sure aren’t poor, but they aren’t quite rich. Family with family celebrates as every bit is pinched.”

“Interesting to hear,” Rarity said, with a self-imposed leer. “I’m guessing Rainbow Dash is too lax, and Fluttershy is shy; I was too oblivious and afraid to pry. I never spoke my concern for their behavior so queer, and their holiday may pass sadness, I fear.” Something boiled in her chest, turning her hot. She knew the sun was almost down, though not her fault. A monster purred and clawed its way inside, something fierce was opening her eyes wide.

“And what of Twilight, your beloved family? Have you spent time, or lounged on the balcony?”

The words struck true, taking Spike a step back. He hung his head in shame and much slack.

“And what of you, with my gift of my art. Does it warm just your neck, or include your heart?” she asked with a sincere concern in her voice, having no other option, no decision, no choice.

Spike opened his jaw to reassure the mare, but he closed it upon seeing her eyes full of care. To lie would be to hurt and be hurt, to sully his soul with the sinful dirt. To the mare he loved and defended with claw and tooth, he had nothing to give her but the honest truth. He touched the fashionable scarf, its forest green’s radiance against his scales. As much as he loved her, he was not a fabulous male.

“To be honest Rarity, your gift is touching… but something so natural to you for a gift of mine is… crushing. My gift was filled with energy, spirit, and soul; your gift was made in minutes, with hardly a toll. I brandish this with pride, for we are great friends. The fact you leave mine neglected leaves me sorrowful to no end.”

Rarity lowered her head, her heart turning blue. She wanted to deny it, but it was nothing but true. Taking a minute, she concocted a plan. Perhaps she could say the day… if Spike was fast as he ran. “Spikey, my dear, I must take action. Will you help me to give this holiday traction?”

Spike blinked, the change in heart surprising. He couldn’t help but bow as both their spirits began rising. She whispered her plan, so quiet and discreet; Spike nodded and left like a pegasus fleet. Rarity’s role was confrontational, perhaps mental, to meet her friends and become instrumental.

First she traveled upstairs and tore away the scrolls, bringing the wrath of a flaming hot coal. Twilight didn’t burn, but she contained much wrath, until Rarity explained the plan and her new path. Once clued in, Twilight eventually perked. Her friends more important, later she’d work. A glow of the horn and a shine of light, Twilight disappeared in a magic so bright.

Rarity continued her path, confident in her friends two. Each had a quest, and important task to do. Spike was at her home, preparing her amend. Twilight was off, rallying an important friend.

First was Applejack, to whom she profusely apologized. Rudely intruding and falling for a weak guise. The two made up and gave a warm hug. Her family accompanied them, close together and snug.

Next was the orphanage, where they met the lovely matron. Unable to refuse, Rarity became a dual patron. Mother-figure and filly accompanied the herd, a mass gathering of heart, soul, and fur. The seven trekked onward, prepared for their last stop. If their mission failed, the entire day would be a flop.

Night gave rise as Rainbow’s home came to view, everything illuminated by Luna’s full moon. The hopeful ponies shouted, hoping to bring Rainbow out. They all gave a cheer when she finally flew about. With hugs and cheers, and a cute filly to help, Rainbow Dash was convinced to stay herself. The last of her journey complete, Rarity led the way, refusing to continue leading her friends astray.

At last they made it to the end, to the door of her Boutique. Fluttershy and Twilight joined the group, their arrival magically unique. Rarity thanked her friend, the princess herself. Without her help, it’d be pain she’d felt. Without further ado, they opened the door. A surprise on every wall and even the floor.

Pinkie Pie had outdone herself, being alerted by Twilight. She had convinced the Cakes without as much as a fight. Decorating they were, the ponies three (and foals two), their decorative skill was as amazing as Daring Doo. Streamers and balloons decorated the wall, food piled on the tables and threatened to fall. Spike sat on the floor, taking a rest, sitting with his back right onto the empty chest.

Rarity sighed, looking at her empty hoard. She had sacrificed much forward.

The reaction was immediate, just as she planned. Everypony warmed up, happy to see their friends. Fluttershy became less timid, comfortable in the limelight. Pinkie’s smile, despite her homesickness, continued to be bright. They laughed and cheered, their jubilations so jolly. Rarity was no saint, but she did feel holly.

Twilight took a load off, as did Spike. They did their part and showed off their might. The two chatted with ponies left and right, except for Spike’s occasional glance to Rarity whenever polite.

The matron and Cakes got along just fine, both having experience in foals so sublime. They pinched cheeks and coaxed to feed, their love for children almost an instinctual need.

Rainbow Dash’s oddity was because she celebrated with friends; she happened to be Druish at some family end. She enjoyed the history like any other, but solo celebrations were simply a bother. Just like the others, she expected everypony to be busy, her nearsightedness causing a contagious folly.

Her party afloat, the drinks abroad, Rarity stepped back and viewed her party in awe. She had come so far, learning gifts were more than material. There was a love to it, perhaps friendly and familial. She had one final test, a last task to do; she approached the one she needed and asked him true.

Spike followed the mare, his curiosity far from thin; he knew she had something important, much more than a whim. She led him to the kitchen, quiet and private enough to talk. There she popped the question that made him gawk.

“Spikey-Wikey…” she said, a slight blush on her cheeks. Her horn picked up a final gift, a small package so meek. It was delicately wrapped, its paper a bit old. It was at least a few days, judging by the folds. Spike opened the wrapping carefully to peer in the box. Inside was something that turned his stomach to rock.

“My darling, my hero, I must not wait too long. A true gentledrake deserves a reward equally strong.” She closed her eyes and turned bright red, if great looks could kill Spike would’ve been dead.

Spike gulped, his blood rushing to regions more. “Rarity, are you serious, truly sure? This is quite the gift, and not one I’d like to abuse. You’re a wonderful mare, not one to be used.”

Without another word, she learned forward in a rush. Madden with emotion, red with blush. She placed her lips on his lips, not too slow nor too quick. Just enough to show him that he was the one true pick.

Spike placed a claw on his lips, his heart pounding more. “My, Rarity, what was that for?”

Rarity stepped forward, leaving the kitchen, allowing herself to be seen by all. The crowd and Spike gave her attention, as if it was a ball. “Today I learned a lesson of lessons, one speaking true of art. Generosity is not about giving, but speaking true to the heart. While it is true it’s wise to let go of goods, giving without thought can still be pointless and rude. I gave to you all, but only to stifle my greed. I satisfied your wants, but ignored your needs. To have you all is no folly, by golly, we’re all quite jolly. I only hope we have a good time, even if we’re a bit squally.”

Twilight stepped forward, her wings slightly spread. Her face full of pride, some cider turning it red. “Rarity, you gave us all great reprieve-”

“This is about friends, family, love: Hearth’s Warming Eve!”