Soarin had bought the last pie, and Mr. Carrot Cake could not have been happier.
Hearth's Warming Eve had never been the easiest time of year for him, what with the business and Pound and Pumpkin, and just a few minutes ago, it had been shaping up to be the worst Hearth's Warming Eve for Sugarcube Corner. That wasn't to say that it did poorly around the holidays, oh no—quite the opposite, in fact. But money had been tight this year, even with as much publicity as Ponyville got. The bureaucrats up in Canterlot had gotten it into their heads to try and impose new health programs, and as much as he believed in eating right, Mr. Cake didn’t have to be happy about it.
But it was ultimately the customers' choice, and business had slowed down this year. He was just grateful that the Wonderbolts were in town for the annual play, even if it was just to see their newest member display her brashness and brawn in front of an audience.
Well, more so than usual.
Mr. Cake trotted over to the door and flipped the sign over to "Sorry, We're Closed," exhaling a little. There was work to be done before the morning came, even if they were closed tomorrow. Mrs. Cake ran a tighter ship than most ponies realized, and she was taking care of the foals tonight, so the cleaning and sweeping fell to her husband.
But he didn't mind, not really, as long as he got it done sooner rather than later. Cup had been eyeing a set of pearl earrings at the jeweler's for a while now, and Carrot had every intention of buying them for her. They were beautiful in the light, glistening and catching it no matter how their angle. He had actually thought they were diamonds on a cursory glance. They were perfect complements to a perfect mare, and Carrot knew she deserved them now more than ever. She needed to know just how much he loved her.
So, with a smile on his face, he began to clean faster than he ever had.
Soarin simply could not believe his luck. To think that he had bought the last of Sugarcube Corner's famed apple pies! Honesty and Laughter had come together to create the perfect treat, and he, Soarin, had managed to score one. Oh, he knew Spitfire would rag on him about his insatiable love for pies, but it was true; the only thing he loved more than pie was his family.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
He loved coming to Ponyville for Hearth's Warming. The play put on by the schoolfoals was always adorable, and the princesses were in attendance too, what with the Elements of Harmony living here. And, of course, the air show the next morning. Soarin always looked forward to it, and had for the past seven years. He was doing what he did best with his closest friends, in front of a tight-knit and very important audience. In fact, he'd have to get some sleep if he wanted to be ready for the morning.
Yawning, Soarin wandered in the inn's direction, but didn't take off and fly. The night was beautiful, and in a place like Ponyville, all of the stars were out. He smirked to himself. That was one thing about Canterlot, or even Fillydelphia: everything was just so busy. The ponies, the sounds, the lights... It was so overwhelming, even for a superstar like himself. But out here in the country, it was peaceful.
Too peaceful, Soarin thought. A pony could find himself caught off-guard with his thoughts if he wasn't careful. Thoughts of life, thoughts of himself, and...
Thoughts of family.
He had to love his family. It was an unwritten rule of Cloudsdale—no, Equestria! Soarin simply couldn't fathom the idea of not loving his family. His mother, his sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, all of them. He had a big family, larger even than those of most earth ponies, which, while not unheard for pegasi, was certainly not the norm. Ignoring his family, putting them behind anything else, was completely alien to him.
And yet...
And yet it wasn't. He had joined the Wonderbolts, after all, hadn't he? Hadn't gone home for Hearth's Warming since he began touring. Abandoned the family business to perform all across Equestria with his idols, gave up wrangling lightning after his father—
The pie slipped out of his grasp and splattered on the road in front of Soarin. The pegasus didn't move a muscle, opting to stare at the remains of his dessert. Finally, he raised his head, cracked his neck, and took a deep, quavering breath. Forget the pie, forget Spitfire, forget the air show and Ponyville and the princesses.
Soarin crouched low, then took off towards Cloudsdale.
Mr. Cake let himself into his house, keys jingling as he placed them back in his coat pocket. He sighed before shutting the door quietly behind him. It wouldn't do to wake Pound and Pumpkin, after all, or his wife, for that matter. How he wished his wife wouldn't have to wake up in the morning to empty hooves! He knew jealousy was never a good thing, but if Carrot could just find the pony that had bought those pearl earrings, he would be much happier than he currently was.
"Everything all right, honey bun?"
Oh dear. He hadn't even noticed Cup sitting on the couch, illuminated by a set of modest flames in the fireplace. Mr. Cake faltered, then sighed again and hung up his coat. He trotted over to his wife and sat down beside her, removing his hat and cradling it in his hooves. Where to even begin?
"Sugarplum, I..."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't have a Hearth's Warming present for you. I mean..." Carrot shook his head and furrowed his brow. "I had one picked out, those pearl earrings you've been looking at for a while—"
A hoof met his lips, and Carrot looked up with wide eyes. Cup smiled back at him and giggled.
"Oh, Carrot, you know you don't need to get me anything. Just being here with me is enough."
Carrot's mouth twitched as he narrowed his eyes, but he eventually nestled into his wife's neck and breathed in her scent. Perhaps she was right.
Somewhere far from the cozy house, a young pegasus was wrapped in a joyous embrace and ushered in from the snow. He exchanged greetings and well-wishes and, perhaps most importantly, love and cheer, and that was all. But that was okay; he enjoyed a hearty supper with his family, even without the apple pie. Just his presence was enough.
And so the night passed unto the day, and all was well with the world.