Generous Gifts

by BlazzingInferno

Evening Firewood

Applejack had it all wrong, as did everypony else.

Spike stopped for a moment to pant. His legs had somehow found a way to burn and shiver at the same time. He couldn’t decide what was worse: the fading sunlight, the plummeting temperatures, or the ever-deepening snow. Once the sun set, he would have officially blown the entire day walking around Ponyville. He finally knew who had Rarity’s name, albeit by process of elimination rather than anypony actually giving him a useful clue. By virtue of visiting three ponies instead of just one like he’d planned, he knew it all: Twilight was getting him a book, Applejack was getting Twilight some kind of historical relic, Rainbow Dash was getting Pinkie Pie a new party cannon, Pinkie Pie was getting Applejack a set of pie pans filled with pie-flavored candy, and he was supposed to get Fluttershy something. That just left Fluttershy getting a gift for Rarity, and Rarity getting a gift for Rainbow Dash. Why couldn’t he have just drawn Rarity’s name from the start? Why did he have to go on a grand tour of Ponyville in waist-deep snow?

He paused on Fluttershy’s doorstep to rub his frozen hands together. Once the numbness in his claws turned back into dull pain, he reached up and knocked on the door. He’d never been so cold, but it was absolutely worth it. All he had to do was go inside, ask Fluttershy to do a three-way name trade with him and Twilight, and go home to inform Twilight of her role in his master plan. Tomorrow morning, or possibly afternoon considering how tired he felt, he’d buy Rarity the best Hearth’s Warming present ever. She’d be so surprised; maybe she’d even give him a thank-you kiss.

A quiet but unmistakable sneeze banished all thoughts of romance. He put his ear to the door. “Fluttershy?”

“C-come in,” she replied.

Spike opened the door and stepped inside. The cottage floor was covered in discarded tissues, rendering it just as white as the snow outside. Fluttershy was curled up on her couch, nestled between a mound of tissues and what appeared to be an unfinished blanket knitted out of blue yarn. “Hi, Spike.”

“Are you okay?”

Fluttershy gave a mighty sneeze in response, one of the loudest things he’d ever heard escape her mouth. She reached for a nearby tissue box and shook her head. “I’ve just got a little cold… but if you need something…”

She started to push herself up on her shaking legs. Spike shook his head and ran forward. “That’s okay, you don’t have to get up! Can I make you some tea or…” A shiver traveled up his spine, and for a moment he could’ve sworn that he was still wading through snow. The whole cottage felt just as cold as the wintery evening outside.

Fluttershy sneezed again. “I’m sorry if you’re cold. I really need to conserve my firewood so it lasts all winter.”

“But you’re sick!”

“It’s okay. I’m just going to stay right here and rest until I feel better. It’s a good thing I’m knitting this blanket as a Hearth’s Warming gift.”

Spike looked down at the blanket. The shade of blue was a little off, assuming she was trying to match Rarity’s cutie mark. Still, it did look warm and comfortable. “It looks really nice, Fluttershy. Can I make you some tea?”

Fluttershy’s ears shot up. “Oh, Angel! He said was going to make me something, but that was ages ago! Could you check on him for me?”

He ran to the kitchen. “Angel? Are you okay? Did you need me to—”

Spike tried not to laugh, and only succeeded by clasping both hands over his mouth. Angel was standing at the base of the oven, right in front of the hearth, ineffectually rubbing two sticks together with his soot-covered paws. The death glare he gave Spike looked like more than enough to get a fire going.

“Do you need a little help, Angel?”

Angel balled up a tiny fist and tried to look menacing.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help. I want Fluttershy to get better, too.”

Angel pointed at the tea kettle on the top of the stove, and then to a pack of matches resting on a shelf high above.

“I’ll take care of that. Stand back.” One blast of Spike’s fire breath brought the tea kettle to a whistling boil.

Angel shook his head and pointed again.

“What? The kettle’s hot now. I can carry it and everyth—”

Angel hopped up on a nearby stool and then onto the stovetop. He stared down at Spike and pointed once again, this time clearly at the stove.

Spike touched his hand to the front of it. The only spot that wasn’t stone cold was where his own fire had warmed it. “Of course it’s cold, you didn’t light the firewood in the—”

Angel slapped himself on the forehead and gave the stove a kick. The hollow ringing sound emanating from the hearth finally clued Spike in. He knelt down and looked into the empty spot where the firewood was supposed to go. “So you’ve been trying to light a stove with no firewood in it; is the wood too heavy for you or something?”

Angel nodded. He put his paws together in front of him and pantomimed swinging something around. Then he stood up straight and deliberately fell backward.

Spike sighed. “You want me to go chop down a tree for firewood? That’s a ton of work; that’s why ponies just buy the stuff, Angel. Fluttershy has to have some firewood around here somewhere.”

Angel hopped up and down on the stove and waved his paws, clearly disappointed with Spike’s sudden rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

Finally Spike threw open a wide, floor-to-ceiling door next to the back window. The ‘Firewood’ label next to the handle should’ve been his first clue. “Aha! I knew she’d have some…”

He didn’t know what to say. Just like Applejack’s pantry, the cabinet was neither bare nor fully stocked. Small bundles of logs, each barely enough to ward off a winter’s afternoon, were tied up with yarn and labeled with little strips of paper. He brushed a claw against the dainty writing on the nearest paper label. Each little paper had a date on it, and he could only assume that today’s firewood ration was now nothing more than soot.

“This… This is all Fluttershy has? She wasn’t kidding about saving it so it lasts all winter.”

Angel jumped in front of the dwindling firewood supply and stared Spike down. He repeated the tree-chopping pantomime with one paw while the other pointed at the door.

Spike winced. He already felt numb just thinking about performing hard labor out in that cold. Still, arguing with a bunny wasn’t making the cottage any warmer. “Fine… I’ll go find some more firewood outside, you get Fluttershy’s tea ready.”

Angel nodded. That was the closest they’d ever come to having a civil conversation.

---

Two hours later, Spike collapsed in Fluttershy’s easy chair and surveyed Angel’s and his work. A fire was crackling merrily in the hearth, thanks in no small part to several blasts of his fire breath to fell a tree, section it into logs, and finally to convince the icicle-laden wood to catch fire. Fluttershy now had two winters’ worth of firewood at least.

Angel hopped into the room with a warm blanket in his forelegs. He shot Spike a look, which could’ve been anything from simple tolerance to genuine approval, and offered the blanket to Fluttershy. The heat alone seemed to have done wonders for her. She was seated upright with a basin of hot water in front of her, a mug of tea in her lap, and a quilt draped over her back. The mountains of used tissues were gone, thanks to Angel. In their place was a small waste basket that Fluttershy hadn’t even filled halfway.

Fluttershy glanced up and saw Angel holding out the blanket. “Oh, that’s all right, Angel. I feel warm and snug already. Maybe Spike would like it?”

Angel gave Spike another look, studied the blanket for a moment, and held it out to him.

Spike’s jaw dropped. This couldn’t be the real Angel; the real one, the bunny that only ever treated Fluttershy nicely, at least on occasion, must have been replaced with some sort of changeling replicant. He took the offered blanket all the same. “Uh… thanks, Angel. We… we made a good team, right?”

Angel crossed his forelegs and gave a small nod.

Fluttershy giggled. “You certainly did. I feel so much better already, all thanks to the two of you.”

Angel’s previously limp ears perked up, and he gave what looked like an actual smile.

At last Spike felt at ease. Everything was getting back to normal. “I’m so glad you’re doing better now, Fluttershy. Why didn’t you come and ask some of your friends for help when you got sick?”

Fluttershy looked down into the water basin. “I really should have. I know you’re all so busy though, and I wouldn’t have wanted to ruin my surprise…”

Her gaze drifted to the unfinished knitting project on a nearby end table. “I guess you know who it’s for… Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Are you kidding? What pony wouldn’t like a hoofmade blanket? I know Rarity’s a seamstress and everything, but she’s going to love—”

Her ears shot up. “Rarity?”

“Well… yeah. You’re trying to match the color of her cutie mark, aren’t you?”

Fluttershy stared at him for a moment, and finally shook her head. “N-no, didn’t you see the pattern?”

Before she could even move an inch, Angel darted forward and retrieved the blanket for her. It started to infold as he carried it, and at last Spike realized what he’d missed. Right in the middle of the solid blue expanse of yarn was the beginning of a rainbow-colored lightning bolt.

Spike’s jaw dropped. “But… Rainbow Dash?”

Fluttershy nodded. “I was so worried when I drew her name. She always acts so tough, but cloud houses get especially cold in the wintertime.”

“I-I get that and everything, but…” He hung his head.

“Spike? What’s wrong? You’re not getting sick too, are you?”

“No, I just don’t understand wh—”

And then he did.

Spike jumped to his feet. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Fluttershy, but I need to go.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Thank you so much for coming to see me, Spike. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“That’s okay… you just rest. Rainbow Dash is going to love that blanket. You’ve got everything here covered, right Angel?”

Angel stood up straight and saluted.

Spike gave him a thumbs up. “Great. I’ve got one more stop to make.”

Comments

[Hillbe]

A book?
A quilt and a book?
a BOOK!
A BOOK
a pie pan and a book
a book
a book
a book
a book

I gave every pony a book!

[RadicalDishonesty]

You know... how would Spike trade his gift giving target (Fluttershy) to Fluttershy if she had Rarity's name?

Spike, you aren't thinkin' this through!

Also, cutting a few winters' worth of firewood is not a bad gift.

Even though Spike is doing it because he just wants to help a friend.

[DragonRaiderX9]

So...did Rarity draw her own name? Because, after checking chapter one again, I see she didn't go last.

[RadicalDishonesty]

6739142
I think Spike read Twilight wrong. She didn't get Spike's name. Twilight has Rarity's name, Rarity has Spike's name.

[DragonRaiderX9]

6739319

Hadn't considered that. It does seem more probable, though.