Don't Need No Mistletoe

by MayhemMoth

First published

There's a mistletoe infestation at Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack doesn't think that's as sweet as it sounds.

Days before Hearth's Warming, Applejack discovers that the most important tree in the orchard has been struck by mistletoe. Just another problem to add to this holiday, really. She's already been more ornery than usual this Hearth's Warming, so what's one more problem to add to the list?

Twilight's not sure why she's so upset, but she'd like to help her not be.


This was written for mokaevans as a part of Jinglemas 2020! For more information about Jinglemas, checkout our group!

Just Need More Time

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Apple trees are hardy. They’re strong, sturdy, capable of taking great gusts of wind and solid bucks from ponies. The Apple family has always made sure of it, treating their trees with the utmost kindness and respect, inspecting them for ailments regularly. It was because of this, and their natural strength, that their apple trees were born strong, and lived long.

Yet at the same time, apple trees were vulnerable. Pests and rot were impossible to avoid in full, and even the Pegasi’s controlled storms were unpredictable. Branches would snap, trees would fall, and there would be nothing Applejack or any of her family could do about it. Often, they’d mourn these fallen trees, the very thing that gave them their livelihood, but it was always a brief sadness. The tree would inevitably be chopped for firewood or turned into furniture, giving it one last gift to the family that had raised it from a seedling.

Most ponies wouldn’t understand why they mourned the fallen trees, not unless they assumed it was a loss of income. And though that was true, there were always other reasons. Not only were the trees their livelihood, they were their family. They were home.

Applejack had walked these orchards every day of her life, and she always noticed each and every tree, as well as the empty lots where previous ones had fallen. There was always that pit of emptiness in her gut when she saw those empty spaces, but none were as terrible as the one she felt now.

Thankfully, the tree hadn’t fallen. In fact, it looked as strong as she remembered, albeit covered in a sheet of snow, bare without the fruit or foliage it often carried. Fruit trees don’t bloom in the Winter after all, but something else always did.

Something heinous. Something parasitic. Something that could suck the life out of a tree if it were allowed to get out of hoof.

Mistletoe.

And it was on their tree.

How she hadn’t noticed it earlier was beyond her, but she was disgusted with herself for allowing it to get to this point. She could already see berries sprouting, the tiny white fruit like dozens of eyes staring down at her, mocking her as they sucked the energy out of the most important tree in the orchard.

She wasn’t about to allow this to go on any longer, even if the only solution was just as painful.

Turning away, she made her way back to the barn. She didn’t run, or even trot, it was a slow walk. Even though it felt like it would, she knew that the mistletoe wasn’t going to kill the tree in one day. It already looked as if it had already been there for weeks, and the tree still stood strong. If she could help it, she’d make sure it would stay that way forever.

So she took her time walking back to the house.

The snow crunched under her hooves with every step, the air still and quiet. She inspected the other trees as she went, looking for any more signs of infection. Thankfully her eyes were only met with bare, snow covered branches.

Looking to the sky, she judged the time, calculating how long it would take to trim the infected branches. There was a pang in her chest at that thought, but she needed to remember that pruning trees was good, it’d be okay. The position of the sun told her that she’d have, at most, two hours of sunlight to do what she needed to.

“Blasted Winter,” She mumbled, “Taking the light too soon.”

It’s not like she could complain. Celestia had decided long ago that the Winter nights would be long in honor of Luna, and even with Twilight as Princess of Equestria, this hadn’t changed. It was simply what everypony was used to, and even though it meant fewer hours to work outside in the Winter, it was tradition. Applejack new better than to question tradition.

She wondered if Twilight would visit. Her new duties kept her busy, and she couldn’t visit her friends as often as she’d liked. During her last visit, Pinkie had asked if she’d be able to visit for Hearth’s Warming, and though she said she’d try, she’d also refused to make a Pinkie Promise in saying she would. So that meant the chances weren’t great.

And now Hearth’s Warming was only days away, and Applejack almost dreaded it. She wished she didn’t, it had always been her favorite holiday, but this year it felt… Different. Wrong.

She wouldn’t accept why.

Raising her head, unaware of the fact she’d lowered it at some point, she was practically upon the barn. Her first thought was to get the pruning shears, but she figured it’d be worth asking for help with the trimming. Though she was stubborn, she was also smart, and it didn’t take a genius to know that climbing a tree with something sharp in your mouth was a recipe for disaster.

That is, if anypony was home. Applebloom had gone off to help Scootaloo and her aunts with decorating earlier, and Big Mac had gone out to do some cider deliveries. That left Sugar Belle, who Applejack wasn’t even sure if she’d used the pruning shears before, and Granny, who was not at all an option.

She was probably going to have to do this on her own then.

Letting out a sigh, she pushed the door open in the hopes that somepony would be there to help. As she expected, Sugar Belle was there, decorating the kitchen. Somepony else was with her, levitating a sprig of that accursed parasite, though it wasn’t anypony Applejack expected.

“Twilight?” She blinked, had the princess gotten taller? “What’re you doin’ over here?”

“Oh, Applejack, there you are!” Twilight dropped the mistletoe on the counter, cantering over to wrap a wing around her friend in a hug. She’d definitely gotten taller. “Sugar Belle was just telling me that you were out in the orchard. I’m just stopping by for a little visit.”

Applejack returned the hug, briefly tipping her hat to Sugar Belle as she looked at the two of them with a smile. Twilight’s soft coat warmed Applejack’s own cold body, and she nuzzled into her a bit for that warmth, “But what about all your Princessy duties an’ all that?”

“They’re on hold for the time being, it looks like things tend to slow down around this time of year,” She explained, lifting her wing just enough to look down at Applejack, “I thought it’d be nice to visit now, since I’ll be busy on Hearth’s Warming Eve.”

There it was. Applejack was disappointed, but not entirely surprised. Still, she wanted to keep the conversation going, if at least to keep Twilight around for a little while longer.

“So what’re your plans for Hearth’s Warming?” She asked. Twilight released her from her embrace, and Applejack was almost tempted to pull her wing back over.

“I’ll be going to the Crystal Empire this year. The Crystal ponies don’t celebrate Hearth’s Warming, but they always have a Crystal Ball on the Winter Solstice, and since this is my first solstice as Princess of Equestria, Cadance has invited me. It’s too much of an important occasion to miss.”

“An’ what about Spike, will he stop by?”

Twilight shook her head, “Ember invited him to the Dragon Lands for the Feast of Fire. As much as he loves Hearth’s Warming, there was no way he was going to refuse, especially since this will be his first one.”

Applejack nodded with a sigh, gazing up at her friend with a sadness she couldn’t quite contain. Twilight threw her wing over her in another hug, but this time more sympathetically.

“I’m sorry Applejack, I’d really love to stay for Hearth’s Warming.”

“I’m sure you would, and I appreciate that,” She said, unwilling to lie and say it was fine. Twilight brushed her wing over Applejack’s back gently, her feathers lightly tickling her through her coat. It was a reassuring gesture, soft and warm. She didn’t want it to stop, but she knew it had to eventually.

“We at least have tonight,” Twilight assured, “And tomorrow, if you’re available.”

She was about to say yes, but glanced at Sugar Belle just in time to see her levitating the sprig of mistletoe. A surge of rage went through her upon seeing the parasitic herb, and she pushed Twilight’s wing away.

“I’d love to, Twi, but I got some trimming to do on one of the trees. I’d gone in here to get the pruning shears an’ ask for help, but got a little distracted by your visit. We got a mistletoe problem, and I want to deal with it now.”

Sugar Belle paused her decorating, a slight blush on her face as she turned and asked,, “A mistletoe problem? What’s wrong with it, did I add too much?”

Applejack lifted her hoof to stomp it, but Twilight interrupted her before she could speak, which was probably a good thing.

“I think what Applejack is trying to say is that mistletoe isn’t a good plant to have in the orchard. It’s a parasite, one that infects trees. She’s probably got some branches to trim because of that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I guess I still have a lot to learn about all this.” Sugar Belle stared at the sprig in her magic, “Do you want me to throw the rest away?”

Applejack shook her head, “Naw, I’ll probably be comin’ back with more in a couple of hours anyway. Might as well make a bouquet of the stuff. Not that you’d need any to get a kiss from Big Mac.”

Magic faltering, Sugar Belle’s face flushed red as Applejack smirked up at her. Though mischievous, it was the first smile of hers that Twilight had seen since arriving.

“You know that’s not the only reason why,” Sugar Belle claimed.

“Really? Because last I checked you two were the only ones who were all lovey-dovey in this house,” Applejack snickered, the mare in front of her blushing harder, “Unless you’re tryin’ to get me an’ Twilight to kiss, is that it?”

This time it was Twilight’s face that reddened, her feathers fluffing out just a bit in flustered embarrassment. Applejack saw this, hiding her own face behind her hat as she let out a few more chuckles.

“I’m just teasin’ ya both, y’know?”

“O-oh, of course!” For some reason, Twilight’s face reddened more as she let out a nervous laugh, though she was quick to regain herself as Applejack turned away to leave, “But, ah, back to the mistletoe. You said you came in for help, so would you mind if I joined you?”

“Huh?” Applejack paused, hoof just inches from the door before she turned back to the Alicorn, “I don’t see why not, though I can’t say it feels right to ask the Princess of Equestria to help out with yard work.”

“Then don’t think of it as asking the Princess of Equestria, think of it as asking a friend.”

“Ah, right. S’pose that makes sense.” Putting her hoof on the door again, she did another pause and turned to Sugar Belle, “If Big Mac returns before we do, tell ‘im where he can find us because there still might be more to do. An’ wake Granny when you’re done setting up, don’t want her sleeping past sunset.”

Sugar Belle nodded with a hum, adjusting her mistletoe. A loose berry fell as she did, bouncing across the floor before bumping against Applejack’s hoof. Staring at it in disdain for a moment, she squished it, muttering under her breath, “I don’t need no mistletoe…”

Unbeknown to her, Twilight frowned slightly at her words and action, but said nothing as she followed her friend outside. Greeted by the crisp Winter air, her wings fluffed as a gentle wind blew. She wished she had brought a scarf, but hadn’t thought about it. Then again, it looked like Applejack hadn’t thought about something like that either and she didn’t even have feathers to warm her.

They stamped through the snow to the barn, Applejack entering it to grab the shears and their case, wrapping it around her middle before continuing through the orchard. She took the same path she’d returned home from, stepping in her own hoofprints to keep from slowing her down or getting too cold. Twilight followed in her hoofsteps, quite literally, gazing at the trees around them as they went.

Overall, the orchard looked how it always had before in Winter, at least to her. Bare trees covered in snow, faded hoofprints through each row where one of the Apples had walked through to inspect for damage after a storm. She did notice the occasional gap between trees, but they were few and far between, empty plots awaiting the saplings that would be planted come Springtime.

Yes, everything was the same as she’d remembered, but at the same time, something was different.

Applejack seemed distant, sad even. Twilight wasn’t sure why. This was the prime time of year when everypony was happy, and Applejack was certainly no exception. She was a family pony first and foremost, and Hearth’s Warming was practically a family specific holiday. So why was she so upset? Was it because of the mistletoe, or was it because she couldn’t stay?

Twilight wanted to ask, but didn’t. Applejack would probably be too stubborn to reply at first, but it was okay. She’d probably say what was bothering her eventually. For now, she’d simply make small talk.

“So how’s everything been lately?” She asked.

“It’s been fine,” Applejack answered without pause, “No different from usual. I’m still working at the school teaching Honesty and still farming, though I suppose there’s not much of that right now. Been helping with a lot of deliveries and baking with Sugar Belle too. Lotta ponies want pies this time of year.”

“How about the family?”

Applejack seemed to falter in her steps. Twilight wasn’t sure if it was because of an ice patch, or something else.

Adjusting the harness on her back, she answered, “Still doing what they can. Big Mac’s been doing the deliveries, while Apple Bloom's been helping him when she’s not out with her friends. Granny… Well, she’s not doing quite as much as she used to. She helps Sugar Belle with baking sometimes.”

There was that sadness again. It worried Twilight.

“You sounded a bit worried, is Granny Smith okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Applejack said. Her voice wasn’t forceful, but still sad, and Twilight knew there was no reason to assume she was lying. “Stubborn as she always is, just a bit slower than she used to be.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Though curious to ask about their other friends, Twilight chose to be silent the rest of the way. As much as she wished to know how they were, she wanted some quality time with Applejack first. She’d talk more once they were finished with pruning. It probably wouldn’t take long to make it to whatever tree it was that needed it.

Upon making it to the infected tree in question, Twilight realized that some of her questions had been answered. Though most of the trees in the orchard were quite similar and she hadn’t memorized them, this one was unmistakable. Its location at the edge of the orchard, between the apple and pear trees was one thing, but it’s appearance was unforgettable even without foliage. Two toned bark and branches twisted into the shape of a heart, it was the most important tree in the orchard.

And just like Applejack had said, it was infected with mistletoe.

Though its beauty still lingered, many of its branches were marred with gnarls and vines, sprouts of mistletoe jutting from the woody knobs scattered among the treetop. To an outsider's perspective, it might have looked beautiful, splashes of green sprouting from the snow covered branches with little white berries sprinkled around like snowflakes. But to Applejack, Twilight knew it must have been heartbreaking.

Grabbing the shears from their case, Applejack tested them on a nearby weed to make sure they were sharp enough before asking, “Can ya help me up into the branches? Not really a smart or easy thing to do with these in my mouth.”

“Will levitation work?”

Applejack nodded, allowing Twilight to envelop her in a pink aura, gingerly lifting her to one of the higher branches. With that, Applejack swiftly shifted the shears to her hooves quicker than the Alicorn could register, the swift movement bringing a jolt of panic. She trusted Applejack not to hurt herself of course, but it was still distressing to see somepony swing something so sharp around.

“Could you lift me a bit closer?” She asked, distracting Twilight from her worries, “I gotta be specific with these cuts.”

Twilight obliged, slowly raising Applejack until the mare told her to stop. She opened the garden shears slowly, noticeably hesitating as she brought the blades against the infected branch. For a few heart pounding moments, she sat like that, staring down at the branch with an obvious sadness. Twilight could have sworn she was shaking, but almost as soon as she had seen that, Applejack’s demeanor changed, and with a scowl she snapped the shears shut. A horrible crunch sounded as she did, the infected branch falling to the ground in front of Twilight.

Applejack stared down at it, silent. Twilight stared up at her, also silent. Little did they know, both’s expressions said more about how they felt than any words ever could have.

Finally, after enough time for the shadows in the snow to shift, Applejack requested, “I’d like to move to the next one.”

Once again, Twilight obliged. The next branch was a bit thicker than the first, warped slightly from the gnarls the mistletoe had left. It took more than one cut to remove this one, and with each snap of the garden shears Applejack’s scowl deepened. Eventually, it too fell away, landing with a much harder thump than the first.

This time Applejack didn’t have to say anything to convince Twilight to move her, and in return the princess chose to say nothing as she worked.

They stayed like that for the next half hour or so, working in silence. There were no birds to sing this time of year, and very few creatures scurrying about, just the sound of a gentle wind and shears snapping together. Even without Twilight’s magic, the sun had slowly lowered itself, bathing the frost covered orchard in a bath of pink and orange, the snow sparkling like diamonds as the light hit it just right.

It was a beautiful sight, and a calming evening, but neither mares paid any mind to it. Applejack was focused on the tree, while Twilight was focused on her.

Finally, after what felt like the whole of her visit to Twilight, Applejack cut the final branch. It fell to the ground with a gentle crunch of snow, and she let out a sad sign as she watched it fall. Awaiting confirmation that this was truly the last branch, Twilight set her on the ground, where she threw the garden shears into the dirt and stared at the tree overhead.

For the most part, it still kept its shape. The branches still intertwined each other in the outline of a heart, though it was somewhat more lopsided than it had been before. Twilight didn’t think it looked all that bad, but was sure Applejack’s opinion would be much different.

“I think it looks alright,” She said, hoping to cheer her friend up. Applejack just frowned.

“It looks wrong.”

“It’ll grow back,” Twilight assured, setting a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. She felt cold. “Changes to anything always looks wrong, but you must remember that change is good, even when it doesn’t seem like it is.”

“Ain’t nothin’ good about changing Mom an’ Dad’s tree.”

“Now Applejack, I expected you of all ponies to know that pruning a tree is better for its overall health. Even if this wasn’t the expected time for it, this just means it’ll grow back more lush this coming Spring.”

“Ugh, I really got you speaking agriculture to me,” Though the statement sounded as if it were one of annoyance, a small smirk on Applejack’s face proved that it wasn’t, “And I can’t argue with agriculture. Don’t mean I gotta like it though.”

“I never said you did, but I really didn’t want to see you so upset,” Twilight claimed, smiling down at Applejack. She levitated one of the mistletoe infected branches over, spinning it in her magic as she asked, “So what do you plan to do with all this?”

Applejack shrugged, “Burn it probably, ain’t enough to build something out of, and I really don’t wanna bring it back to decorate. Probably not enough to keep the barn warm for long either.”

“I think there might be enough to build something.”

Twilight circled the tree, grabbing every fallen branch in her magic. Then, with a shift in spells, she began to weave a few of them together. Slowly they intertwined with one another, the princess’ pink aura gingerly twisting them together into an all too familiar shape. A small circlet of apple and pear wood wrapped in mistletoe, which she presented to Applejack. She took it hesitantly, glancing between it and Twilight as the princess continued to work.

Once again, she interweaved the branches, creating yet another two toned circlet. She set that one aside, repeating the process four more times. After that, she was left with only twigs and larger branches. Applejack expected her to finally toss those away, but instead she repeated the process one final time, twisting the branches together until they formed a much larger circlet. She presented that to Applejack as well.

Glancing between it and Twilight, a look of frustration crossed her face.

“I don’t need no mistletoe,” She said, tossing the wreath away and shaking her head to get rid of the circlet. Twilight caught them both in her magic, trying not to frown at Applejack’s actions, “We got enough inside anyway, why bother adding more?”

“I think it’s better than letting it go to waste,” Twilight explained, setting the mistletoe circlet upon her own head, “You said it wasn’t enough to provide warmth, so why not make it into something sweet?”

“Ain’t nothin’ sweet about that parasite!”

She turned away, ears pinned as she began to gallop back to the house. Twilight actually did frown at this, leaving the mistletoe beside the abandoned garden shears as she flew after her friend. It didn’t take long to catch up with her, and within moments she landed in front of her friend, the farm mare running face first into her chest.

Stumbling back, she demanded, “Now what was that for?”

“You left the garden shears.”

“So? I can get ‘em later, it’s cold out. I wanna go home.”

“You know they’ll just risk rusting if you do that, right?”

Applejack scowled, ears pinning further. Of course she knew, between all the pails and wheelbarrows, her family probably used the most metal out of any of Ponyville’s residents. Hay, they were replacing stuff all the time because it’d get rusted or dented. But she wasn’t about to say that, so she chose to say nothing.

“Applejack,” Twilight’s voice was soft, perhaps even softer than her feathers, “You’ve been acting strange today, is something wrong?”

She continued to say nothing.

“Please Applejack, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. This isn’t all just because of the mistletoe, is it?”

“No.”

Finally, an answer. Not a direct one, but something was better than nothing.

“Then what is it?”

For another moment, Applejack didn’t speak, though her silence was brief. Pawing the ground nervously, she whispered, “I’m worried that this’ll be the last one…”

“Last one?” Twilight tilted her head, an expression of concern on her face, “Last one of what?”

“Last Hearth’s Warming…”

“What? No, of course not! Just because I’m busy this year doesn’t mean I won’t be able to find time next year, or any other year after that, why would you think that?”

“No, I don’t mean that!”

Applejack’s ears had pinned, and she stamped a hoof into the snow. All signs of anger, but Twilight knew that it wasn’t anger that was making her act like this. It concerned her more.

“Then what do you mean?” She demanded firmly, Applejack grit her teeth at the question, still trying to avoid answering, “Something is obviously wrong, and I’m worried about you. Please Applejack, tell me what’s wrong, I can try to-”

“You can’t help!”

She turned and ran, but not far. Once she was back at her parents’ tree she stopped, plopping down into the snow with a silent sadness. It was so obvious that something was upsetting her, but her stubborn demeanor was getting in the way of her letting it out.

Twilight approached her slowly, daintily stepping in her friend’s hoofprints before silently sitting beside her. She’d let her speak on her own time, for now she’d simply stay beside her so she wasn’t alone. A sudden gust of wind, and she covered her with a wing to keep her warm as well.

Together they sat, Applejack gazing into her parents’ tree, and Twilight gazing down at her with the occasional glance to the sky. Moonrise would be soon, and though her love and care for her friends prioritized anything else, she couldn’t forget to raise it. Being so close to the Winter Solstice, it’d be wrong and disrespectful, and she was sure that wherever Luna may be, she would suspect something.

She’d savor the sunset while it lasted. Though no longer bathed in an orange light, the orchard, as well as Applejack, still looked splendid. Twilight had always loved this time of day her whole life, but it wasn’t until she’d been put in charge of the sun that she realized just what kind of beauty it could create. For that matter, even the moonlight was gorgeous, especially when reflected off the snow.

For just a bit longer, she waited for Applejack to speak. She still didn’t. Twilight chose to give her more time, at least until she was finished with the task at hoof.

Horn enveloping in her brilliant pink aura, she flapped her wings and rose above the orchard. The last rays of sunlight faded as she did, the pinks and oranges in the sky replaced with a sparkling navy. Shadows shifted below, the same bright shades that had once been in the sky melting away from the ground as the moon rose, bathing the snow in a soft blue glow instead.

And with that, the moon was in the sky. Twilight landed once again beside Applejack, momentarily lost in the beauty of her handiwork. Even with the sun gone, everything was so bright. The snow reflected the moonlight vibrantly, enveloping the farm in many calming shades.

Twilight smiled at the beauty. Applejack let out a sigh.

“D’you ever feel like a night’s gonna be somepony’s last?” She asked. Her friend jolted out of her wonder, looking down at the orange mare in concerned confusion.

“I…” She wanted to say something reassuring, but couldn’t. She hadn’t expected that, “No, I’ve never thought that. Do you?”

She nodded, “All the time.”

Twilight’s brow furrowed.

“Do you know why I love Hearth’s Warming so much? Why I try to make the most of every one?” Applejack asked. She didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “It’s because I never know when it’ll be somepony’s last. So I gotta make sure every holiday is worthy of being somepony’s last, though I hope it never is.”

Twilight briefly opened her mouth to question this, but quickly shut it when she realized that Applejack was staring upward again. Not at the moon, and not into the star, but into the tree above.

And then it all clicked.

“I didn’t celebrate theirs like it was their last,” She sighed, lowering her hat in front of her eyes, “I wish I had, but I was too young. Granny made sure to make the next one the most special she could, and even though we were sad, she made it worthwhile. She made it special. But now…”

She trailed off, unable to say more. Twilight easily connected the dots.

“Granny Smith has slowed down,” She stated, “You’re worried it’ll be her last.”

For the umpteenth time that night, Applejack didn’t answer, but this time she didn’t have to. Twilight already knew, so there was no need to say anything. She simply wrapped her wing around her yet again, holding the mare close as they both gazed into the tree in front of them. The moon peeked through its twisted branches, illuminating the two of them in a heart shaped light. It complimented Applejack nicely, Twilight thought.

“I can’t reassure you that it won’t be the last,” She started eventually, holding the smaller mare close, “But I can assure you that, no matter what happens, you can still make this one of the best Hearth’s Warmings ever. I’m just sorry I can’t be here for it.”

Applejack wanted to say it was fine, but couldn’t because that wasn’t true. So instead, she just sighed and sank against Twilight’s warm coat. At least she had her warmth for now, and as the princess began to brush her wing against her back she began to calm.

“I think I might understand, at least a little bit,” Twilight said, gazing into the moon, “I’ve never really thought too hard about it, but I’m an Alicorn. From what we know about Celestia and Luna, Alicorns are long lived, but my circumstances are different than theirs. I don’t know whether I’ll live like a regular pony, or if I’ll live as long as them. Since Cadance and I are the first magically induced Alicorns, neither of us know what the future has in store for us.”

“Have ya ever asked Celestia?”

“I have, but she never really gave a straight answer. I’m not sure if she even knows.”

“Or maybe she was just being mysterious,” Applejack suggested, “But I guess that means you’ll just have to live every Hearth’s Warming like it’s your last then, wontcha?”

A small smile made way to Twilight’s lips, “I suppose so. I hope I can join you for those ones.”

A silent nod, and Applejack’s gaze finally lowered. She was looking at the mistletoe now. The crowns were scattered around in the snow, the wreath leaning against the tree’s trunk. Moonlight gleamed off the berries, like little stars amongst the greenery.

Rising to her hooves, she slowly made her way to the mistletoe. Picking up each crown, she organized them in a much neater pile before turning to the wreath. She stared down at it for a few moments, raising a hoof but pausing before adjusting it.

“Y’know, mistletoe might not be the best thing to find on a tree, but I suppose there is something sweet about the fact it was on Mom an’ Dad’s.”

“Perhaps it was a gift?” Twilight suggested, enveloping the wreath in magic and levitating it above the two of them. She set it in between the branches, in a way where the moonlight shone through the middle and onto the two of them, “Something to assure you that they’re still here for you on Hearth’s Warming.”

“Heh, maybe.”

There was a small smile on the farm mare’s face now, and Twilight’s own widened. A gentle wind blew, ruffling the two mare’s manes and reminding them of the time of year. Applejack shivered, and Twilight leaned against her to keep her warm.

“Probably about time we head back,” Twilight suggested, craning her neck to look toward where the house would be. Unsurprisingly, the trees obscured it from the ground, “It’s pretty cold, and I’m sure everyone’s wondering what’s taking you so long.”

Applejack, cheeks flushed red from what Twilight assumed to be the cold, didn’t quite look away from her friend as she answered, “You’re probably right. Too much longer and somepony’s gonna come out here looking for us, plus Sugar Belle’s probably gonna need some help with dinner.”

“Oh, what are you having?”

“Cabbage rolls, we got a lot of rice stored up for Winter after all.”

“Sounds delicious! Hope there’s enough for me.”

“Always enough for family,” She winked.

They turned to leave together, but Applejack paused, remembering the remaining circlets behind her. Quickly turning back, she grabbed one, looking it over before looking back to Twilight.

“Did you want these still?” She asked, “Seems like a waste to leave ‘em.”

“Oh, right!” Twilight levitated five of them over, but set one atop Applejack’s hat. She looked at her confused, “I thought they’d make good gifts, one for each of us.”

“And here I thought you were trying to get a kiss outta me,” Applejack smirked. Twilight’s face reddened at the suggestion, her magic faltering just the tiniest bit.

“Th-that’s ridiculous, I just thought the crowns would be cute!”

Her smile widened at her flustered friend, and with a readjustment of her hat, Applejack trotted over proudly. She snatched the berry crowns from her friend’s aura, setting them onto a nearby stump as she smugly stared up at the confused Twilight to say, “Well, guess what?”

“What?”

Whipping her own crown off her head, Applejack hopped upward and quickly placed her lips upon Twilight’s cheek. The princess’ face managed to redden even more at that, and upon pulling away she saw that Applejack’s cheeks were as red as hers. Perhaps it hadn’t been because of the cold.

Hiding her face in her hat, she let out a few chuckles before looking back to the taller mare before her.

“Told ya I don’t need no mistletoe.”