A time to share with family and friends
“And that’s why good little colts and fillies are always rewarded with gifts on Hearth’s Warming Eve.” Celestia’s voice was low and gentle. Her rich tones lent an almost musical tone to the end of the story, and the three little fillies in the bunk bed smiled and stirred sleepily as the princess stood. Softly, she padded to the door, her golden-shod hooves scarcely making a sound upon the marble floor. “Goodnight, my little ponies.” The golden glow of Celestia’s magic faded as she shut the door behind her.
Outside, the corridor was still. The halls that during term time would echo with the shouts and laughter of children galloping from one lesson to the next were silent tonight. Celestia made her way down the darkened hallway and paused before one last room.
“Matron?”
There was a small noise of surprise from within, and an elderly yellow mare appeared in the doorway. Her mane was greying, and her round frame was just beginning to turn to plumpness, but her horn was as long and graceful as ever it had been.
“Princess Celestia.” Matron Soft Light’s face split into a welcoming smile, and she lit her own horn to receive the book from Celestia’s magical grasp. “Thank you for coming down this evening. I know how much our full-time boarders appreciate things like that at this time of year.”
Celestia looked down at Matron Soft Light and remembered when little Soft Light had first entered the halls of Princess Celestia’s School for Magically Gifted Unicorns. That shy little filly had come so far and changed so much, just like the foals currently in her charge would also change. She smiled down at her former ward. “It was my pleasure, Matron. They’re all such lovely foals.”
Soft Light nodded. “They are. But I know how busy you are at the festive season — engagements and events. Especially this year — with…uh…recent events.” Delicately, she let her voice tail off, and Celestia’s smile widened a little more.
“Don’t be afraid to say her name, Soft Light. We are blessed beyond measure to have my sister returned to us.”
“With Princess Luna’s return, I mean.” Soft Light hastily amended.
Raising her head a little to look down the corridor that led back toward the palace gardens, Celestia’s smile faded into a more sombre look. By now, the moon would be high in the sky, and Luna would have retreated to her stellarium to try and attend to the alignment of the stars. She insisted that Celestia had let it slip hideously during her time in sole command, and had spent almost every night for months trying to undo the damage. Celestia tried every night to tug Luna away to share a meal or just a stroll in the gardens, but Luna was still hesitant.
Her jaw set, Celestia decided that tonight of all nights Luna would not finagle her way into yet another solitary evening. On Hearth’s Warming Eve one had to spend time with the ponies one loved. Luna ought to know that better than anypony; she had fought the windigoes at Celestia’s side.
Almost reluctantly, Celestia turned her head back to the rotund matron before her. “It will be a good Hearth’s Warming this year,” she said softly. “I have missed my sister for so long; to have her back will make this the best winter solstice I have passed in a thousand years.” Her tone was quiet, persuasive. It wasn’t clear whether she was trying to convince Soft Light, or herself.
The matron murmured a quiet affirmation, but Celestia barely heard her. Her duty to the orphaned foals in her school discharged, her thoughts were already with her sister.
Luna stood on her balcony, her wings spread to their fullest extent. Her horn glowed with swirling blue lights and her eyes were shut, the pupils moving rapidly beneath the closed lids as she sent her consciousness questing out into the stars.
Watching from behind one of the trailing blue curtains, Celestia kept her breathing quiet. It was so rare, to see Luna so unguarded, so…relaxed. Focusing on nothing but the task at hoof. To see her sister at all was still a marvel to Celestia. She had thought it was a sight she would never behold again.
But even now that Luna was home, in the rooms that Celestia had kept ready for century after century, she was still…so distant. After that initial rush of joy, when she had asked for Celestia’s forgiveness and Celestia had joyfully given it, Luna had withdrawn again. Retreated into herself. She would allow Celestia to touch her, even to hug her — but something was missing.
It terrified Celestia. Shook her to the core each time she looked into Luna’s eyes and saw that faraway gaze. It was like some part of Luna — the vital, living part that Celestia remembered so keenly — was still up there, on the moon.
And Celestia could not help but remember the last time Luna had drawn back from her sister. It had ended in inky-black fur and slitted blue eyes, in darkness and death. In the loss of her sister and their Elements in one fell swoop.
Closing her eyes briefly, she tried to steel herself to what she knew was coming. Then she stepped forward, out onto the balcony.
“Hello, Luna.”
As she had expected, Luna flinched slightly, and her wings folded in. Blinking a couple of times, she turned to face her older sister and offered a cautious smile. “Ah…good evening, Celestia.”
Her heart aching at the formality of it all, Celestia weakly returned the smile. All she wanted to do was hug her sister and ring in the festivities together like they had done as foals, so many centuries ago. “I came to see if…if you’d like to take tea with me this evening? I asked the chef to make chocolate cake.” Her smile began to waver. “Your favourite, remember?”
Luna’s gaze was distant, already refocused on the stars above. “I don’t think I can this evening, sister. There are so many things that need my attention.”
The pain in Celestia’s chest was sharp, but the hurt was not new. She had received this answer many times over the past few months. Keeping her expression carefully even, she inclined her head. “I understand completely. I…well, perhaps tomorrow?” Her eyes flickered over Luna’s face, searching for any sign of reprieve.
But Luna had already turned back to the night, her horn glimmering blue again.
Only once the door to Luna’s chambers was safely closed behind her did Celestia allow herself to shed the tears that crowded in her eyes.
Celestia sat up late that evening, going over various items of correspondence. Raven Inkwell, ever faithful, brought her tea, served the same as always — three teaspoons of sugar and a generous dash of milk.
“Thank you, Raven,” Celestia said wearily, taking the cup in the golden glow of her magic. “But shouldn’t you be with your family tonight? Hearth’s Warming is no time of year to be alone.”
“No,” Raven said pointedly. “It isn’t, Princess.”
Sighing, Celestia took a sip of her tea. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear a sermon. “Please, Raven, take the rest of the night off. And tomorrow, too. Go and see your friends. Just before you go — what paperwork is next on my to-do list? I should be able to get a fair bit done when things are so quiet.”
“But Princess—”
“Raven. My to-do list, please.”
Shaking her head slightly, Raven Inkwell produced a scroll. “Well, the trade accords with the buffalo need your signature. The draft text our diplomats produced is rather…lengthy.” She pointed to a thick stack of parchment that teetered on the edge of Celestia’s crowded desk.
Though Celestia had gone to great trouble to clear her schedule for the three days of the festival, the sight of that stack of paper warmed her cold heart. A little. Anything that would take her mind off the emptiness of her chambers was a blessing. She had been so sure that this year at last she would not be lonely, now that the one pony that could truly understand her had come home. She had sent everypony away, so that she could spend the holiday with her sister, just the two of them. As it had been in their earliest days. Even Twilight’s customary visit had been cancelled.
But Luna, it seemed was busy. She was always busy.
And Celestia would be spending Hearth’s Warming more alone than she had ever been, in her millennium of loneliness.
As the door clicked softly shut behind Raven Inkwell, Celestia tugged the buffalo accords document over to her. Resting her hoof on the page, she gently traced the lines as she read.
The candles on her desk burned lower, and the moon moved slowly across the great windows behind her. The pages turned, one by one, and Celestia’s head gradually sank lower and lower. Finally, when her muzzle rested on page three-hundred and forty-seven, entitled ‘Crop Exchange’, her eyes drifted closed.
Suddenly, there was a crackling sound, and Celestia jerked upright just in time to see the tail-end of a gout of green dragonfire. A small red scroll tumbled from the air onto her desk. Despite her sombre mood, Celestia’s spirits lifted. A holiday message from Twilight Sparkle, her most faithful student.
Eagerly, she unfurled the scroll and with hungry eyes devoured the first few lines.
“Dear Princess Celestia,” it read. “Today I learned about the importance reuniting with old friends. Friendships can stay strong even after months have passed, and the joy of reigniting those old connections can bring joy to everypony.”
Celestia smiled. Even at this time of year, Twilight did not neglect her weekly friendship report. Receiving them was always a bright point for Celestia, but never more so than now.
“I promised my friends that I’d spend Hearth’s Warming Eve with them this year. It’s our first big holiday together, and we wanted to eat dinner and exchange gifts together before we all split up to go and spend time with our families. I was so excited for it — until I heard that Shiny was finally coming home. He’s been away in the Crystal Empire for so long that I wanted to make this Hearth’s Warming really perfect — and how could it be perfect if I wasn’t going to be there to meet him at the station?”
“I’ll be honest with you, Princess, I really panicked. Spike and I spent so much time planning our Hearth’s Warming timetable — time in Ponyville, in Canterlot, with my grandparents in the retirement village. To have another element thrown into it really shook things up. I looked into different solutions — long-distance teleportation, personal division spells so I could be in two places at once — but I’m not magically advanced enough for any of them. I was so torn; should I be there to welcome Shiny home, or honour my promise to my friends?”
“I agonised over it for days, but it was actually Spike who came up with the perfect compromise. He remembered from Shining’s letters how much he has been really missing his friends from the guard. And this year more than ever I finally feel like I can understand that, now that I’ve learned so much about friendship myself.”
Pressing a hoof to her chest, Celestia’s smile became a little watery. Sending Twilight to Ponyville had been better for her than Celestia ever could have imagined. Watching the shy little bookworm grow and flourish into a mare capable of forming such strong friendships had been one of the crowning achievements of Celestia’s long, long life.
“So I got planning, and I decided to surprise Shiny. Well, if I’m being truthful, it was Pinkie Pie who did most of the legwork. I’ve never seen anypony move as fast as she does when she’s in full party-planning mode! She put together the cakes and decorated my parents’ house, and I wrote to every single one of Shining Armor’s old friends. They all agreed to come, and they’re all at Mom and Dad’s house right now, waiting to welcome him home to Canterlot. And I’m in Ponyville at Sweet Apple Acres, eating pie with all my friends. I’ve done something big for Shiny, and given him time with all of his buddies, and I get to see all of my friends before I see my family tomorrow.”
“I think I’ve learned that friends can really be another sort of family. It’s so important to make time for friendships at holiday time, as well as ponies you’re blood related to. I’m so glad I’m going to see my BBBFF tomorrow, but I’m just as glad that we both got to see our friends today, too.”
“From your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”
After she had finished reading, Celestia sat for a long time, mulling it over. Then she lit her horn once more to lift the letter so that she could read it for a second time, and a third. After her fourth re-read, she reached for her quill and inkwell, and began to pen a letter of her own.
Nightwing turned over the letter once more, squinting down at the golden seal to be sure that it was genuine. There was no doubt about it — there on the envelope was the seal of the solar princess herself. And within was a letter in her own writing, addressed to him. Nightwing. He couldn’t get his head around it. Why him? He was just a chandler — and not even one of Canterlot’s better ones.
What could the Princess of the Sun want with him?
Stretching hard enough that the joints in her wings cracked, Luna rubbed her eyes. The last traces of sunset were just visible at the edges of her curtains. Another beautiful velvet night awaited her.
With a sudden pang of guilt, she shot upright. It was Hearth’s Warming! And she had slept the whole day. Celestia would be so angry with her.
She slid out of bed and trotted to the door, slotting her hooves into her silver shoes one at a time as she went. As she reached it, her pace slowed, until she was standing stationary before the polished teak doors, just looking at them.
She imagined opening those doors, going out into the wider palace to find her sister and her half-disappointed, half-furious face. She imagined the stares of the servants to whom she was still a stranger. Of the subjects who still viewed her as an imposter, infringing on the rights of the Equestria’s sole ruler.
Perhaps, after all, it would be better if she kept to her rooms.
As she took a few hesitant steps backward, one of her hooves skidded slightly on a small piece of paper. She blinked and then stooped to pick it up. It was sealed with her sister’s signature golden wax.
Cautiously, Luna tore open the envelope. What would it be? A letter of recrimination, a denouncement? Or Celestia’s signature reproaches, masked in politeness and courtly tradition? Luna wasn’t sure which would be worse.
To her surprise, it was neither. The letter was brief, and said nothing of Luna’s failure to appear all day. It invited her to meet Celestia in the main ballroom an hour after moonrise.
“I will be having a small gathering with some friends, and it would mean a great deal to me if you could attend, even if only for a short while.”
Luna heaved a sigh and turned back towards the door. Despite the gentle phrasing, knowing Celestia, attendance was probably not optional.
Celestia smiled nervously at the dark-furred ponies surrounding her. She had given her staff the day off to spend with her families, and while she would never regret encouraging the ponies who worked in the palace to enjoy themselves, their absence did mean that she had ben forced to cater this party entirely alone. Celestia had stuck to what she knew best, and she had thought it had gone well — but judging by their skeptical expressions, apparently some of her guests did not feel that pancakes and syrup made for an appropriate Hearth’s Warming meal.
The presence of some familiar faces would also have been helpful in defusing the tension that she felt, surrounded by strangers as she was. These were not usually the sort of ponies that attended her balls and soirees.
But for Luna, Celestia would have done anything. A few awkward conversations were more than within her capability. Steeling herself, Celestia turned to the pony at her side.
“Would you care for some pancakes, Darkfang?”
Pausing outside the enormous double doors, Luna took a moment to look at the intricate cavings. They were still ornamented only with the golden sun of Celestia’s cutie mark. There was no moon displayed. Inside that palace, as well as in the wider world, Luna was still an outsider. Ponies just…they did not know her, other than as Nightmare Moon. She was not a princess to them, just a bad dream or an old legend.
She lowered her head, and heaved out a sigh.
Twenty minutes. That was all it need be. Twenty minutes enduring the stares and the whispers from Celestia’s guests, whomever they might be. And then it would be over, and she could retreat back into her room.
With one last deep breath, Luna pushed the doors open.
She walked inside, and then stopped short. It was like she had suddenly stepped back in time.
The Great Hall was swathed with midnight-blue fabric, and small white glow-lights studded the ceiling, laid out in patterns vaguely reminiscent of her own constellations. The drapes were thrown open wide to let the moonlight flood in, but other than the small lights the hall was unlit. Usually the brilliant lights Celestia preferred hurt Luna’s eyes, but on this night the room was filled with pockets of inviting shadow. Celestia’s own throne had been smothered with black velvet and a silver crescent moon balanced on its apex.
But it was the ponies themselves who bought tears to Luna’s eyes. For the first time in a thousand years, she was back in the Night Court.
Wherever she looked, batponies thronged the room, their gentle clicks and the rustling of their leathern wings filling the air. Gleaming yellow eyes and soft grey coats, the dark-furred children that she had birthed so long ago. Their hooves held cups of dark-red berry-juice, and a few of them nibbled half-heartedly at plates of pancakes. As Luna shut her eyes and listened to the quiet rhythm of their navigational echolocation, she could almost have believed that she was back in her summer home at Hollow Shades.
One by one, the batponies noticed her presence. A susurration of whispers and excited clicks sped across the room, until they were all facing her.
In agonising suspense, Luna waited. These were the ponies whose ancestors had loved her, whom she had loved in return. Many of them had loved her even after she had become the Nightmare, and had followed her even unto death. The remnants of her children, who had never been as populous as Celestia’s little ponies, had scattered to the four winds, so far as she knew. Since her return Luna had not dared to seek any of them out. Surely they had turned their faces away from her as the years passed, cursed her name for the shame she had bought to their race. She waited for the first angry shout, for the amazed expressions on those faces to melt into anger and disgust. She waited, but the batponies did not shun her or turn away.
Instead, they began to clop their hooves against the marble floor. First one, and then another, until the whole crowd were drumming their forehooves on the ground. Luna stared, uncomprehending, until they began to cheer.
Stunned, Luna stumbled towards the nearest batpony. “I — please, little one, what is your name?”
He beamed up at her. “I’m Nightwing, your Highness. I’m a chandler.”
Trembling, Luna offered him her hoof. “And…you came here for me?”
With a tremulous movement, almost religious in its fervour, Nightwing pressed her hoof in both of his own, and bent his forehead to touch it. “Yes, your Highness. Ever since your return, we have wondered — and waited for you to show yourself to us. And when your royal sister invited us here — every batpony in Canterlot came at a gallop! I could hardly believe my luck.”
Uncomprehendingly, Luna drew back her hoof, and Nightwing and the other batponies sank into bows. “You…you waited for me? You’re happy to see me?”
Nightwing looked up, his yellow eyes shining with tears. “Your Highness, your children did not forget you. I’m no priest, I can’t explain it well — but the faithful have prayed to you in your solitude every night since your banishment. We have waited for you to answer us and return as yourself from the Nightmare. Every year since I was a colt my parents and I travel to Hollow Shades to observe the Longest Night with all of the faithful.” He ducked his head again, almost afraid to look into her face for too long. “On the night you were saved, we sang hymns until the moon set.”
Trembling now, Luna looked from one face to the next. All of them smiling, all of them crowding closer. “And it’s true — for all of you? You don’t — you don’t fear me? Hate me?”
The batponies shook their heads, and vehement denials rang out.
“We waited for your return, Princess!”
“We remembered!”
And one voice, louder than the rest, “Welcome home, your Majesty!”
Luna felt tears pricking at her eyes, and a smile split her muzzle from ear to ear. “I— thank you, thank you.” She walked forward into the crowd, smiling and shaking their hooves, feeling her little batponies — her own little batponies — pressing close to her.
And then she looked over their heads, to where Celestia waited, a teary smile on her own face, and she understood then the Hearth’s Warming gift that her sister had given her.
As she watched Luna move through the crowd of batponies, every coat as dark and midnight-hued as her own, Celestia felt moisture spill from her eyes and down over her cheeks. At long last, she witnessed the sight of a genuine smile on Luna’s face. Celestia could not remember the last time she had seen Luna so free and uninhibited, the last time she had heard a laugh cross her sister’s lips.
Perhaps Luna would never learn to trust her again. Celestia could not blame her. She had betrayed her little sister utterly. Certainly she would never forgive herself — it was no surprise, then, if Luna made the same choice.
But perhaps that didn’t matter, if Celestia could still see her little sister smile. If she could be a silent witness, every now and then, to a real moment of Luna’s joy, then she thought that she could bear any fate.
It had been a miracle, that so many of the Canterlotian batponies had answered Celestia’s summons. It had been a second miracle that Luna had been willing to attend. And the best miracle of all was seeing the joy that the descendants of her old subjects were bringing to Luna, after so many months of sadness and withdrawal.
It was all that she needed, Celestia told herself firmly. It would be sheer greed to wish for more. And yet…somehow her heart still yearned or some scrap of that affection for herself. Just a smile, a real smile, from her sister. It was all she wanted.
When Luna finally looked up, Celestia attempted to mask her tears with a smile. She did not want to ruin Luna’s newfound joy with her misery. Perhaps she should not even have attended. That would have been the truly selfless thing to do. To create a magical surprise for Luna, and then leave her to enjoy it without Celestia’s unwanted presence. But try as she might, Celestia had not been able to resist.
She supposed that meant that she was weak.
But now Luna was coming towards her, moving through the press of ponies like a swan through water, and they parted for her like waves before the graceful prow of a ship. Celestia took half a pace backwards, wondering if she should flee, but Luna was too close now to make her intent anything less than crystal clear. She wanted to speak to her sister, and Celestia would have to stay and hear it, no matter how painful it might be.
With a gulp, she raised her head and prepared to meet Luna’s eyes.
Luna walked closer, and finally came to a stop. Behind her, the batponies resumed their prior conversations, but it was clear that all eyes remained firmly on Luna. The buzz of their voices held a much greater note of excitement than previously.
“Celestia, I…” Luna’s voice tailed off. “This is…”
“Do you…hate it?” Celestia asked, nervous now despite the obvious happiness she had seen Luna display.
“What? No! Of course not.” After her denial, Luna hesitated again, at something of a loss for words.
Celestia began to feel a little desperate. Why wouldn’t her sister just tell her what was wrong so that she could fix it? “What then? Please, Luna, you can talk to me.”
Luna raised a hoof to one eye, and Celestia realised with shock that her sister was crying too.
“Oh, no, Lu, what is it? Please, tell me.”
Suddenly, Luna opened her wings and stepped sharply forward. Celestia flinched, half-expecting a blow — but Luna’s outstretched wings only folded around her instead, in the softest of embraces. Her forehooves followed, wrapping tight around Celestia’s neck, and Luna buried her face in her sister’s mane. Rainbow hues and star-spangled purple hair flowed together, their undulations synchronising effortlessly.
Letting out a slow breath, Celestia carefully, wonderingly, raised her own hooves to hold her sister.
“Thank you, Celly.” Luna’s words were muffled in Celestia’s mane, but Celestia’s ears were so attuned to her little sister’s every utterance that she thought she could have heard the words even if Luna had still been on the moon.
Clutching her sister close, the Princess of the Sun burst into loud sobs, and hugged Luna hard enough that she wheezed for air. “Oh, Luna! I’ve missed you so much!”
Luna tapped her hard on the shoulder, and Celestia hastily loosened her hold so that her sister could breathe. Panting, Luna looked up into her eyes. “I missed you too, Celestia. I really did. And this—” she gestured to the purple hangings, the silver crescent moon on the throne, and most of all the batponies, “—I really feel…like you want me here.”
“What?” Celestia gasped, her nose and eyes running freely as she wept. “Want you here? Why would you think for a second that I didn’t? I’ve waited for you for so long!”
Luna hugged her back. “I know. I know.”
The two sisters embraced once more, and the batpony musicians finally began to play. A traditional Hollow Shades folk song filled the room as Luna leant up to whisper into Celestia’s ear. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Celly.”