From The Heart(h)
Night Writer walked back into her office and bedroom, munching on the muffin she levitated with her. She stopped before the curtains covering the glass door to the balcony and quietly slid them open. Morning light streamed in, and she winced at the brightness.
She looked to her bed and smiled softly. Still tucked in snuggly next to what would have been her spot was a sleeping Luna: former princess of the night and a frequent visitor to Night Writer’s home. The author was always happy to have the alicorn sleepover, even if Night Writer herself did most of the sleeping.
Just as she began to approach the bed, Luna’s peaceful face curled into a frown. Her legs kicked at the blankets slightly, as if her muscles wanted her to flee on hoof. Night Writer hurried to her side and set a hoof on the alicorn’s shoulder. All at once, Luna’s peaceful sleep returned and she eased back into the bed.
Night Writer smiled, almost proudly. Luna’s soothing wing strokes and lavender-scented cosmic mane helped ease her busy mind to sleep; she was happy to do the same, even if she didn’t know how it helped or why. Blushing softly, she leaned in and pecked Luna’s cheek quickly before shuffling away from the bed.
Approaching her desk, Night Writer lifted her scribbles and notes. She floated up a list that had been scratched off as roughly as if an angry cat had done it. Item after item had been dashed through with red ink, causing Night Writer to sigh. She took another bite of her muffin and chewed thoughtfully as she replaced it.
Slowly, it came to her. She slowed her chewing as she remembered where she had gotten the muffin and swallowed with a hopeful smile. Gift shopping for Luna was difficult–so why not consult an expert?
And there was just such an expert in nearby Ponyville. Someone Night Writer knew she could rely on that didn’t have blood connections to Luna, thankfully.
Burying the scribbled list once more, Night Writer penned a note on a blank sheet of paper and levitated it over to the nightstand next to Luna. She finished off her muffin as she headed for the door to fetch her knit hat and scarf.
The morning rush at Sugarcube Corner had long since subsided by the time Night Writer stepped inside. In fact, it looked practically deserted. Frowning with worry, she stepped up to the counter and rang the bell.
Pinkie Pie sprung up from behind the counter as if by magic, causing Night Writer to jump back, even though the Earth pony had pulled the same stunt several times when the unicorn had come to stock up on pastries.
“Hey, Night Writer!” Pinkie chimed. “Wow, did you go through those dozen muffins already?”
“No, Pinkie, I came to see you,” Night Writer said, her hopeful smile returning.
“Well, you came to the right place – mostly because I still work here and I haven’t gone home for Hearth’s Warming yet.” Pinkie set a foreleg on the counter, leaned forward, and cocked an eyebrow at Night Writer. “What’s up?”
“I was hoping I could ask for some help. You are the best party pony around, right?”
Pinkie nodded and looked at her outstretched hoof proudly. “Can’t say anyone shy of a cheesy sandwich has beaten me.”
“So… does that mean you’re good at giving gifts too?”
The Earth pony let out a laugh. “’Am I good at giving out gifts too,’ she says. You can ask anypony, and I mean anypony in this town, and they’ll tell you that a gift from me is the best that you can get.”
Night Writer frowned. “Well… no. I didn’t want you to pick out the present. I just need help in figuring out what somepony might like.”
The unicorn was suddenly staring down her muzzle at a pink hoof to her mouth. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Night Writer. You see, it’s one thing to give somepony an amazing gift, but I do it because I know not only what they like, but what they would like from me.”
Night Writer cocked a confused eyebrow and mumbled something through Pinkie’s hoof.
“Now, you might be asking: ‘Pinkie Pie, what are you talking about?’ And I’d say: ‘it’s all scientific!’ Take for example my friend Twilight – she likes reading, and she likes chocolate cake. A gift that I might give her is a recipe book for 101 delectable chocolate cakes. You see? It’s not just a gift for her, but it’s a gift from me – one she’d enjoy and one she knows I’d give her.”
Night Writer used her magic to lower Pinkie’s hoof with a frown. “So you’re not going to tell me what somepony might like? You don’t even know who it is.”
“Oh, I know plenty,” Pinkie replied, smirking smugly. “Mostly because Rarity told me – somepony around here is getting pretty close with a certain alicorn.”
Night Writer’s cheeks burned brightly. “How in Equestria does Rarity know about me and Luna?” she demanded.
“Well, she was having some sort of nightmare or something about relationships so Luna made a comment about her own relationship, and from what Rarity told me it kinda went from there.” Pinkie brushed it off. “Anyway, I could give you a gift suggestion, but I don’t know Luna that well. I’m great at giving gifts, but I never said I was perfect at it.”
“Well then what would you suggest?” Night Writer asked exasperatedly. “I came here because I thought you of all ponies could help.”
Pinkie rubbed her chin and nodded thoughtfully. “Tell you what – I know just the pony to ask about this sort of thing.”
“And who might that be?”
“Celestia of course.” Pinkie beamed brightly. “Actually, I’m surprised Celestia wasn’t your first choice, being Luna’s sister and all. No one’s closer to Luna than her – no offense, you’re probably a very close second.”
Night Writer’s ears drooped and her pupils shrunk. A familiar wobbling came over her knees as her eyes sank to the floor like a heavy weight sunk in her gut.
Luna was the most wonderful pony Night Writer had known outside her family. She was quiet, and liked the same things she did. She enjoyed her peace and quiet as much as Night Writer did, and especially the latter’s stories.
Celestia had been the ruler of Equestria for as far back as anyone could remember. She smote monsters that’d make lunch out of mere ponies. Before Twilight, she raised and lowered the sun daily, without so much as breaking a sweat. She had taught generations of ponies, and had, herself, been taught by the wisest unicorn in history. Granted, Night Writer couldn’t recall anypony making her angry enough to smite them, but her overactive imagination filled in the blanks just fine.
How would she possibly react to somepony, a mere unicorn yet, dating her sister?
Night Writer hadn’t realized she had tuned out her surroundings until a pink flash darted in front of her muzzle, making her jump back three feet. Pinkie looked at her worriedly from her leaning position on the counter.
“You alright there? You zoned out for like five minutes.”
“I’m… fine…” Night Writer said in between deep breaths. How long had she been breathing hard?
“You’re… not worried about Celestia, are you?” Pinkie asked. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about! Celestia is as caring as everypony makes her out to be, nicer than that even.”
“Of course – you’re the Element of Laughter, savior of Equestria – she’d be nice to a somepony, but to a nopony…” Night Writer shuddered.
“I can go with you if you want, if you need the support,” Pinkie offered. “My shift ends in like five minutes, and I was just going to do my usual party cannon inspection anyway.”
“N-No, no, it’s fine, Pinkie.” Night Writer offered her a shaky smile. “Um, do you know where she lives now? Still in Canterlot somewhere? I’ve… never asked Luna.”
“Silver Shoals. Shouldn’t be too hard to find her.” Pinkie looked her up and down – the wobbling in the unicorn’s knees had not abated. “You sure you’ll be alright?”
“I’ll be… fine.” Night Writer forced out the lie and tried to solidify her smile. She even managed to stop her shaking knees. “Thanks for your help, Pinkie.”
She turned and left Sugarcube Corner – the second she was out the door, she let out a breath, trying to remove the heaviness in her chest.
Night Writer looked around at the ponies getting ready for Hearth’s Warming. The foals were playing with the first few inches of snow the weather ponies had brought in. A few of the weather crew were flying about, helping with decorations. Ponies were walking to and from shops – she wondered how many were a part of a couple, getting a surprise they knew their significant other would love.
A warmth filled her chest that stilled her hammering heart and a soft smile crossed her muzzle. Her fear was nothing more than an idea in her head, an idea she could control and would control because this was all for Luna. Besides, she’d end up meeting Celestia at some point – why not make it on her terms?
As she marched to the Ponyville train station, one thought played on repeat: “This is for Luna.”
She repeated it in her head as she waited in line for a ticket. She repeated it in her head as she waited on the platform for the Friendship Express. She repeated it in her head when the train was in front of her, the coach open and beckoning for her to step inside.
The second the stepped onto the train, the wobble in her knees returned.
Celestia was indeed easy to find – as one would expect an immortal alicorn living in a retirement community to be. However, it was harder to get to her than anticipated. The old ponies living in Silver Shoals had much to talk about in terms of the adventurous Celestia – and Night Writer found it was like trying to get taffy off your hoof getting away from them.
After a dozen old ponies, and twice as many stories about Celestia, Night Writer was finally pointed in the direction of the former ruler of all Equestria by one of the nurses. She was cautioned that Celestia was no longer the princess, so she might not be as open to visitors.
As if Night Writer didn’t have enough to worry about.
Celestia and Luna resided in a cozy apartment right on the shore, though the latter often resided at Night Writer’s home nowadays. It didn’t seem particularly remarkable for having two former members of royalty living in it, though she did notice morning glories and moonflowers planted out front, side by side.
Her wobbling knees only got worse when she walked up to the front door. She could hardly lift a hoof to the door as her thoughts brewed – this was Celestia, former ruler of Equestria, wisest pony in all of Equestria, and somepony who moved celestial bodies as if they were made of cardboard. She was a goddess.
“This is for Luna” was still there, now a quiet voice in a sea of how many ways Celestia would react negatively.
Night Writer was only able to shake the thoughts long enough to knock on the front door firmly, then held her breath when she realized what she had done. It seemed the world had gone quiet with her.
After what seemed like an hour, there came a faint “come in” from inside. It was too distant for Night Writer to make out the tone, so she prayed it was a good one.
She opened the door with her magic and quickly stepped inside. The apartment was furnished in dual tones of color, allowing Night Writer to distinguish Luna’s furniture from things her sister might have gotten – some of the furniture had lighter wood and whites or brighter colors, while some of the furniture had darker wood or metal and blacks or deep blues or purples. A scant few Hearth’s Warming decorations, including a tree, decorated the place.
Most prominent, however, was the lingering smell of something sweet burning.
Night Writer walked through the living room to the kitchen, which looked like a disaster area Pinkie might have caused. Ingredients were strewn about the countertops, and a torched pile of flat, blobby cookies sat in the trash can.
In the center of the kitchen was Celestia, frowning over a tray of, what appeared to smell like, cookies she had just pulled from the oven with her magic. She was wearing a pink apron that announced “Sunny Side Up” across the front, and her usually billowing mane was in a bun.
“I’ll have to try again,” she muttered to herself as she walked the tray to the trash and slid another batch of cookies on the pile. “I must be turning the oven up too high.”
With a curious hum, she finally noticed Night Writer standing there. She smiled serenely as she floated the tray back over to the ingredients. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you. I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said politely.
Night Writer didn’t respond – her jaw was locked tight to prevent her teeth from chattering, despite the heat coming from the kitchen. Her legs ached as she forced her knees to stay still. She couldn’t do much about her wide eyes and drooped ears, however.
Celestia hummed in thought as she walked over to her and looked her over, before giving a sigh. “It’s been a while since this has happened,” she admitted. “Would you care to have a seat? It might help with your knees.”
Night Writer managed a nod and opted for one of the stools at the bar on the outside of the kitchen, which also bore numerous ingredients as well as messy utensils and kitchenware. As soon as she sat down, she did feel a little better, at least enough to unlock her jaw.
“H-How’d you know about that?” she managed to ask.
“Well, believe it or not, being the ruler of all Equestria, no matter how benevolent, made ponies afraid of me for a spell,” Celestia said with an amused smile. “Now, how about we start with introductions?”
Night Writer nodded. “I’m, um… Night Writer. I’m… dating your sister.” Her whole body went rigid the second the words left her lips, bracing for whatever Celestia’s reaction might be.
Celestia’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and she blinked for a moment. Night Writer studied her nervously, watching as the gears clicked into place. She winced when Celestia opened her mouth, and the alicorn shut it.
“I can see why you’re a little nervous,” she remarked instead.
Night Writer managed a nervous chuckle. “I know, it’s silly. You were the benevolent ruler of Equestria for centuries, but—“
“But I’m an all-powerful alicorn and the sister of Luna, correct?” Celestia offered with a soft smile. Night Writer simply nodded. “You don’t have anything to be worried about, Night Writer.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I am dating your sister.”
Celestia nodded solemnly. “I trust Luna’s judgement. It took me a while, but I do. If Luna is happy with you, and the relationship is healthy, I see no reason to be concerned.” The alicorn returned to her work, flipping through a cookbook with her magic while organizing her ingredients. “Besides, I’ve read your work.”
Night Writer looked on in shock. “You have?”
“I’ll admit, it was because Luna was all excited about it. She couldn’t stop telling me how much it reminded her of Nightmare Moon and how well it was done and how interesting it was. Eventually, I caved in.” Celestia giggled. “It just wasn’t for me, however.”
Night Writer swallowed. “Wh-What?”
Celestia glanced past her book at her. “Oh, I didn’t mean your novel was bad. No, not at all. I could see what Luna was talking about, but that genre isn’t for me. Daring Do, on the other hoof, is more my speed. Real stories too, from what I’ve heard.”
Night Writer breathed a sigh of relief in spite of herself, then froze when she heard Celestia giggle. A series of ingredients were measured and then poured into a mixing bowl and a whisk got to work before the alicorn spoke again.
“You seem very wound up. Is this about more than just being afraid of me?” Celestia asked.
Night Writer hesitantly nodded, looking at the floor as she rubbed one foreleg. “Luna noticed it too – I’m self-conscious, a lot apparently. I’ve been getting better, but... it’s still difficult.”
“I can see why you and Luna are so close – she’s self-conscious too. I know all this Nightmare Moon and Tantabus business is in the past, but it’d take a lot more than me to convince Luna. I’m glad she has you, and that you have her.”
Night Writer smiled, then remembered the whole reason she was even here. “Could I ask you something, Princes—Miss Celestia?”
Celestia let out a laugh. “Miss Celestia, that’s a new one,” she mused. “Please, just Celestia is fine. Ponies have been asking me things for centuries, Night Writer – far be it from me to decline answers now.”
“I wanted to get Luna a Hearth’s Warming gift, but I didn’t know what she might like. I asked Pinkie Pie, but she was… less than helpful.” Night Writer huffed a sigh. “She sent me here.”
“A wise pony, that Pinkie Pie. Tell me: what is it that you think Luna might like from you?” Celestia double checked the recipe book.
Night Writer frowned. “I suppose a story or a poem would be sort of cliché.”
“Well, is there anything you do together? I won’t ask for specific details, obviously.” Celestia smirked as Night Writer’s face burned. “And that’s exactly why.”
“Well… she often helps me get to sleep just… being there. And sometimes, when she has nightmares or a particularly tough nightmare to handle in some other pony’s dreams, she seems content when I’m there by her side,” Night Writer reasoned, her face still burning. “I can’t always be there for her though.”
“I think I know what you could give her,” Celestia said, setting the recipe book down. “I think a stuffed animal would be the perfect gift, and I know where you could find one: Manehattan.”
Night Writer’s face lit up and fell in rapid succession. “Manehattan is a pretty long way away. Besides, I’m sure there’s a lot of toy shops there.”
“Not for someone with a teleportation spell,” Celestia replied with a wink. “But first, I need you to do something for me.”
“Wh-What’s that?”
With a sheepish smile, Celestia raised the mixing bowl. “Could you help me with these confounding gingerpony cookies? I seem to be doing something wrong.”
“I don’t really know a lot about baking myself,” Night Writer admitted. “I don’t know how much of a help I’d be.”
“Two horns are better than one – besides, any help would be an improvement.” Celestia giggled.
“Well, I can give it a shot, I suppose.” Night Writer hopped down and walked over to the recipe book, studying it intently while Celestia watched on with a knowing smile.
Night Writer sat on the bed, fidgeting with the neatly wrapped gift in front of her. She’d never been anxious for her visits before, but now she was hoping the all-knowing Celestia – who somehow couldn’t make gingerpony cookies without help – was right about this.
The doors to her balcony flung open as Luna entered with a chilly wind. She quickly shut the doors behind her, a present levitating in her pale blue magic beside her.
“Sorry for the delay. Tia insisted I try her gingerpony cookies before I left,” Luna said with an apologetic smile.
Night Writer got to her feet, levitating her own present with her. “How were they?” she asked, trying to hide her smile.
“Surprisingly good – I half expected her to burn them. Tia’s more of a cake pony, after all.” Luna walked over and wrapped her forelegs around the smaller unicorn. “Happy Hearth’s Warming.”
Night Writer, hugged her back, nestling her muzzle into Luna’s mane. The lavender scent was delightful as always. “Happy Hearth’s Warming.”
The pair pulled apart and Luna levitated her present over to Night Writer, who floated her present over to Luna in return.
“You go first,” Night Writer said quickly, before Luna could say something. “Royalty first, I mean.”
Luna smirked and rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you before, I’m no longer a princess.” She huffed a sigh as she looked down at her present, though it wasn’t one of irritation. “Very well – I shall go first.”
Night Writer watched with hope and anxiety as Luna tore open the package with her magic and opened the box. The alicorn gasped softly and levitated out her gift, looking at it with an adoring smile and sparkly eyes.
It was a plush bat, the size of a buckball. It had soft, charcoal grey fur and small black wings made of a harder material. The stitched-on snout was pink, and it had a pair of dark blue buttons for eyes. It squeaked softly as Luna hugged it to her chest.
“It’s wonderful, Night,” Luna said softly. “Thank you.”
“I figured you could use something comforting, for when you don’t have me.” She smiled sheepishly – she and Celestia had agreed to keep their meeting secret. No sense in spoiling the magic, after all.
“I hope you like yours,” Luna said, nodding to the present.
Night Writer eagerly tore into her package and opened the box, surprised at what she found. She levitated out a plush bat, similar to the one she had given Luna, at least in size and wing and snout color. The bat she had received had dark blue fur and teal buttons for eyes.
“I guess we had similar ideas,” Luna admitted with a soft blush. “I figured with you writing about a batpony, you might like a bat. Do you like it?”
Night Writer hugged it to her chest, and the plush squeaked softly. “It’s perfect,” she muttered, her eyes watery.
The unicorn abandoned her plush for Luna, hugging her tightly. Luna held her close, nestling her cheek against Night Writer’s mane.
Celestia had been right – they were good for each other. And perhaps she was good enough to be the gift for the mare who had everything.