The little filly watched with curious eyes as her father levitated a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, carrying them to the nightstand beneath the window.
“Why do we leave out cookies every Hearth’s Warming Eve?” she asked.
“Because it’s tradition,” her father answered as he set them down.
“But why is it tradition?” she pressed with an exaggerated tilt of her head.
He looked from the cookies to the window, watching the snow fall through the moonlight as he considered his answer.
“That’s just how it’s always been.”
Celestia and Luna loved Hearth’s Warming. They loved the snowy evenings that inspired ponies to snuggle together in front of a fireplace. They loved the decorations that brightened the streets as much as they did ponies’ spirits. They loved the carols that seemed to transcend time and bring together entire generations. And of course, they loved the sense of good will that filled the hearts of everypony this time of year.
But what they loved most of all was the Hearth’s Warming cookies. The sweet smell of cinnamon wafting through the halls was the true herald of the season. Every year, on the night of Hearth’s Warming Eve, Celestia would prepare a batch of cookies just for Luna.
She patiently waited for the cookies she was baking to finish, basking in the warmth that radiated from the oven. At her insistence, most of the staff had left early to spend Hearth’s Warming Eve with their loved ones, leaving Celestia to bake in peace.
Celestia carefully levitated the tray of cookies out of the oven and onto the counter. The air filled with the familiar scent, making her nose tingle, but Luna liked her cookies with extra cinnamon. As the cookies began cooling, Celestia began gathering the icing to decorate them. Each cookie would depict a star or a feather or a tree, in honor of the three tribes and their unification.
As she was about to decorate the last cookie, an idea occurred to her that brought a smile to her face. She moved the icing across the cookie with the meticulous precision an artist would give a painting. Once finished, this cookie featured a crescent moon against an inky backdrop.
Luna’s cutie mark.
Celestia smiled as she imagined how Luna would react to seeing that one. After carefully hiding it among the other cookies, Celestia prepared a cup of cold milk and set everything on a serving tray. She levitated the tray and began the walk to Luna’s bedroom.
The click of her hooves echoed through halls decorated with streamers and tinsel and wreaths. The whole interior seemed to glow with its own light. Celestia occupied herself by picturing the way Luna would light up when she saw the Hearth’s Warming cookies; the way she would bend the soft cookie against her teeth instead of biting through it; the way she would lick her lip after drinking the milk; and the way she would rub her neck against Celestia’s in thanks.
Celestia found herself outside of Luna’s chambers before she even realized it. A golden light enveloped the doors and gently pushed them open. The room was empty, as expected. Celestia stepped toward the balcony with the cookies and milk in tow. Through the window she could see snow falling in the night air, made brilliant by the lights of Hearth’s Warming decorations.
She closed her eyes and lowered the platter onto the floor, bathing the cookies in the moonlight filtering in through the balcony window. The scent of cinnamon permeated the room and filled her lungs. Celestia had long outgrown making Hearth’s Warming wishes and praying for miracles. Yet there she was, head lowered, hoping with all of her might that when she next opened her eyes, her greatest desire would be granted.
She finally opened her eyes and, with great difficulty, lifted her head to look at the moon. A compulsion to stay tugged at her heart, but she turned herself away and went back to the doors. Her step faltered before she could pass through the threshold, and she drew a shaky breath as she turned to the moon.
“Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve, Luna,” she whispered.
The halls seemed less bright than they had before as she made her way to her own room, deciding to retire for the evening. She collapsed onto her bed and curled into her sheets as she steadied her breathing. Memories of Luna smiling and laughing washed over her like a flood.
The very first time, Celestia had noticed that Luna was not as cheerful as she usually was during the Hearth’s Warming season, so she decided to surprise her with cookies she made herself. Luna’s eyes lit up like the stars when she saw the cookies. She hesitated for a moment, having nothing to offer her. Celestia assured her that no gift could compare to seeing her dear sister smile again.
The smile she gave Celestia that year remains the most captivating she had ever seen.
And so it was that each year, Celestia would bring Luna a batch of Hearth’s Warming cookies with milk, and she would ask for nothing more than a smile in return.
The very last time, Celestia found Luna on her balcony, looking over the sleeping city below. So many ponies were dreaming of the Hearth’s Warming celebration that would come in the morning. It seemed to them that the night could not end soon enough. Unsure of what to say, Celestia offered her a cookie and reminded her how much she loves her.
The smile she gave Celestia that year remains the most melancholy she had ever seen.
The memories began to fade as Celestia drifted off to sleep, still chiding herself for behaving like a naïve little foal. Even so, she clung to the hope that her wish might come true when the next morning came.
All she wanted for Hearth’s Warming was to find that the cookies had been eaten.