The White Elephant in the Room
Come the end of Nightmare Night and the slow, inevitable onset of Winter, I could not help but find myself falling into the rumination I oft did of this, the season of snow and ice and slumber.
’Twas a favorite of mine for its quietude, a certain stillness that helped attune oneself to the ephemerality of life and its renewal come the first buds of Spring. With the eves of Hearth’s Warming naught a fortnight hence, when the snow falls in blankets and the winds bite to the bone, that ephemerality could not be driven home with more striking clarity.
As droll as Sister may deem it, I found comfort in such thoughts, and gazing out upon the vastness of snow-covered Canterlot Valley a thousand feet below stirred within me that gentle fire. But even I could only linger on such sentiments for so long with today’s events ahead of me.
Young Twilight had invited me for a yearly get together with her friends. How could I say no?
The wind rushed beneath my wings, charged with the crisp chill of winter, whilst the afternoon sun kept my withers warm and my heart full with anticipation of the coming eve. I had set out a little behind schedule, thanks to Sister’s insistence on lunchtime affairs, but the lofty heights of Canterlot deemed that gravity should work in my favor, and I made good time descending across the valley toward Ponyville.
The little town welcomed me with open hooves, bedecked as it was with wreaths and garland strung from lamppost to lamppost, and nearing Ponyville Castle it appeared that the holiday spirit had gotten to young Twilight as well—or perhaps she championed the cause? All manner of Hearth’s Warming decorations wended about the castle from root to bough, from garland to tinsel to little motes of string-lights all the colors of the rainbow. I alighted before its great doors and knocked sharply. The doors shortly opened, and I was greeted by Spike.
His was a curious mein that quickly brightened at the sight of me. “Oh, Princess Luna! Perfect timing. Everypony else just got here a few minutes ago. Come on in.”
I followed him in, making sure to stamp the snow from my hooves. “Ere we join the others,” I said, “I must ask as to what exactly a ‘white elephant gift exchange’ is. I am afraid I have never heard the term and can only surmise that it is an exchange of gifts and that the elephant is, hopefully, metaphorical. Sister would not tell me. Frustratingly enough, she claimed that knowing would ruin the surprise. I will, however, say that I am curious as to why I was asked to bring only one gift.”
“Well, that’s part of how it works. Everypony brings a gift, and then you take turns unwrapping them one by one or stealing one somepony else opened. It goes around until everypony has a gift, aaand that’s about it. Though, Twilight started a little game of ‘guess which is whose’ a few years back, and it kinda stuck.”
He led me to a side room, but stopped just outside. “Present, please,” he said, holding out his claws like a child asking for its favorite stuffed toy.
I levitated a hefty old tome from my saddlebags and gave it to him. Abjuror’s Anonymous, A Practical Guide to Avoiding Death and Other Embarrassing Social Faux Pas, by Alabaster Aurasight. I recalled it being a favorite of Starswirl’s in my youth. Verily, I was surprised to see it had survived the millennium since in some form. I fancied that Twilight, if nopony else, would take a liking to it.
“Am I to wait here?” I asked as he turned to enter.
He tucked the book under his arm ere tapping a claw to his chin. “Well, I’m not supposed to let you in because if you saw the presents that were already here and then saw who else was here already, then you’d have an unfair advantage guessing which present belonged to who, buuut I guess since you’re the last one to arrive it won’t hurt.”
He turned again to enter, and I followed. ’Twas a sitting room, modestly decorated. A table in the middle held a stack of presents, wrapped in black-and-white striped wrapping paper. Their black bows were trimmed in silver, and flecks of glitter caught the light much the way snow did the lamplight of the city streets.
He made impressive work of wrapping my gift and adding it to the pile. One of many, as nondescript as any other. Intriguing.
“Since you’re here,” he said, “would you mind helping me with this?” He made to lift one side of what I realized was a large tray holding the lot.
“Of course,” I said, lighting my horn and lifting the tray in its entirety. “It is no trouble.” I carried it aloft whilst he led me to a room deep within the castle, past the central map room and its adjoining passageways.
Garland and holly adorned the halls, strung as they were from pillar to pillar, and the scent of peppermint hung in the air. I sensed the faintest tinge of magic that gave the air itself the nip of a cold winter’s night—an impressively delicate use of transmutation magic, if I were to admit. I appreciated the detail.
Just past the library, we arrived at a set of double doors, and there Spike thrust them open to reveal the mainstay of our evening.
Immediately, I was greeted by the smell of cinnamon and a rush of warmth as if being welcomed in from the cold. The room itself was a large circular gathering space festooned with garland and red ribbon, strung up much the same as the hallway, that drew the eye toward a roaring fireplace at the back. The hearty chatter of merriment and friendship bid I enter, where the bright smiles of Twilight and her friends proclaimed wholeheartedly that this, here, was a home away from home.
“Princess Luna!” Twilight said. She leapt from her seat and came to greet me. Out went her wings before she settled them in a hurry and tried her best to bury her excitement with a smile. An equal on all accounts but self-assurance. I smiled. She would learn in time.
“I’m glad you could make it.” she said. “It really means a lot that you’d come.”
“Nonsense, Twilight,” I said. “The holidays are a time to celebrate friends, family, and all that makes life worth living. I would be remiss were I to decline.”
Her smile warmed. “Well, all the more reason that it means a lot. But anyway, come on in. We have a seat for you.”
She took the tray of gifts from me and set them upon the center table, ere gesturing to a high-back velvet armchair that looked as if it had been pulled from an entirely different part of the castle. It reminded me of the scores that Sister kept locked away in the myriad unused sitting rooms back home. Verily, the host of seating arranged about the center table looked as if pulled from elsewhere to accommodate this gathering: another high-back armchair, a chaise lounge, a dining chair, a plush loveseat, even a simple wooden stool.
’Twas all so… simple, so thrown together with nary a concern. There was no veneer here, no sense of decorum or royal expectations. No nobles waiting to upturn their noses at whatever displeased them that afternoon so that they may, like hens, prattle for a fortnight thence.
What a refreshing change of pace. I took my place upon the velvet armchair, to Twilight’s left.
“So,” Twilight said, taking a seat in the other armchair. “I know the rest of you know how this works, but this year, we have a new friend to share our little tradition with.” She gave me a smile. “So I’ll go over it real quick.”
She pointed at the stack of presents atop the center table. “Seven gifts from seven ponies. We each take turns picking a gift from the table and unwrapping it, or choosing to take one that’s already been unwrapped by somepony else. Each gift can only be stolen once.
“At any time, you can choose to guess who a present belongs to, but you can only do so once. If you guess right, you get another steal that doesn’t count against the limit. If you steal when you already have a present, the one you currently have goes back on the table. We go back around to those who don’t have a gift until all the gifts are taken, then have one last round of guesses and steals.” She flitted her wings and raised her brows expectantly. “Does that all make sense?”
I turned the information over in my head. “I believe so. And what if I am to pick my own by chance?”
Twilight grinned. “Then steal somepony else’s gift. That’s part of the fun.”
“That happened to me last year, actually,” Applejack said. “The kerfuffle that caused is how I ended up with the little clock that I still have on my mantlepiece. It just makes the game more excitin’.”
“And if you still end up with your own present at the very end,” Twilight said, “you can still trade. It’s meant to be fun, not some serious gift-giving ceremony.”
I nodded. “Very well. I am ready.”
Twilight turned to Rainbow Dash, who sat to her immediate right, fidgeting in her seat. “Rainbow Dash?”
Rainbow Dash immediately zipped up to the table and snagged the biggest box of the lot. “This one!”
She brought it back to her seat, already tearing at the ribbon holding it together. Shredded wrapping paper went hither and thither in a display I knew not whether to attribute to holiday zeal or foalish desire. She opened the box with a beaming smile that quickly deteriorated to befuddlement.
“Wh-wha…? I don’t—what?” From the box, she withdrew another box, this one wrapped in cyan-and-pink-striped paper adorned with a red-and-gold ribbon. A tag on it read “Open me only once per steal. I may be stolen more than once. —Spike” She glowered at Pinkie Pie.
“Ooo,” Pinkie Pie said. “A game within a game? How exciting!”
Applejack chuckled. “I think somepony just got pranked.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “Laugh it up.” She sat with the box in her lap, hooves folded disappointedly atop it.
“Um,” Fluttershy said. “Doesn’t that go against the rules, though?”
Twilight hmm’d. “If Spike wrote that, then he must have set an agreement with whoever brought it or is playing his own prank. I’m okay with us having a rogue present if everypony else is, so long as it doesn’t set a precedent.”
Everypony nodded in agreement, and although I as a guest within these walls did not feel I had a voice on the matter, neither did I find it objectionable.
“Think there’s more of ’em like that?” Applejack asked.
“Well,” Twilight said. “Only one way to find out.” She nodded at Rarity, reclined on the chaise lounge. “It’s your turn.”
“Call me intrigued,” Rarity said. “Let’s play along, shall we? I’ll take the box.”
Rainbow Dash tossed it her way. “Yeah, sure. All yours.”
In a twist of magic, Rarity undid the ribbon and pulled from the box yet another box, this one covered in gold paper bespeckled with glitter and an ornate red bow. It had the same instructions on it as the previous.
“Oh! Oh!” Pinkie Pie said, leaning dangerously off the edge of her seat. “Are we playing steal the box? I steal the box!”
“I-it’s not your turn yet, Pinkie,” Twilight said.
“I knooow, but I want it to be!” She bounced up and down in her seat. “Come on, Fluttershy. It’s your turn!”
Fluttershy picked a box from the litter, and lo and behold, Abjuror’s made its entrance onto the scene. She held it out as if afraid she may damage it by mere proximity.
“Oh,” she said. “This looks… antique.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Twilight light up at the sight of it. ’Twas a herculean effort, keeping a smile from my face.
“Oh!” Fluttershy said. “I guess I’m done. It’s your turn, Pinkie.”
All eyes fell on Pinkie Pie, and she in turn looked expectantly at Rarity. Rarity sighed, levitating the box to Pinkie Pie.
“It was fun while it lasted,” she said.
“Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said. “You’re not allowed to steal your own gift.”
“There’s no rule against that,” Twilight said. “And nopony’s guessed. You don’t know if it’s her gift or not.”
“Fine. Then I guess it’s Pinkie’s present.”
Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Nope!”
“Wha—well the who the hay’s is it?”
“You already wasted your guess,” Applejack said. She wore a grin doubtlessly meant to rile up Rainbow Dash. “You’ll just have to wait and find out like the rest of us.”
Rainbow Dash blew a raspberry at her and folded her hooves in quite the foalish display. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie snatched the present from the air and tore into it to reveal yet another box, this time wrapped in a deep scarlet with silver trimming.
Applejack laughed. “How many boxes you reckon are in there?”
Pinkie Pie shook it vigorously ere pressing an ear against it. She stuck her tongue out pensively.
“Mmm, hard to tell. There’s a lot of padding in there.”
“Is nopony going to address the elephant in the room?” Rarity said.
Pinkie Pie snickered. “The white elephant in the room.”
That comment garnered a multitude of groans from the others—the allusion to our prime engagement not lost on me, but clearly a play on words I was otherwise not privy to.
“As I was saying,” Rarity continued, glowering at Pinkie Pie. “The elephant in the room? Our dear Princess Luna? The only other variable here?”
“Is that your guess, Rarity?” Twilight said.
“Hmm,” she squinted at me with a playful upturn of her lips. “I think so, yes.”
“Well?” Twilight said. “Princess Luna, is it yours?”
All eyes on me, I shook my head. “I am afraid it is not. Though I am flattered to be compared to one as mischievous as Pinkie Pie.”
That earned a pout from Rarity. “Well, then our little mischief maker is still at large. Wouldn’t it be something if it really were Spike’s present all along?”
“And he snuck somepony else’s gift out?” Applejack asked.
“Perhaps. For all we know, he could have.”
It was at this point that Twilight happened to catch my eye, and the little smile I found there asked: are you having fun?
I replied with an astute nod. Verily, I was, but unlike the rapturous nature of Nightmare Night, this here felt more… subdued, in a sense. Like hallowed ground I shan’t trample. And although they had welcomed me openly, it felt just to keep myself more to the periphery, which I assumed to be the root of her inquiry.
Mollified, Twilight turned her cheerfulness back to the goings-on about us.
Around the circle the turn order went, and so next came Applejack. She leaned forward on her stool and selected one of the smaller boxes from those remaining.
At first glance, I could not tell what she held, but once she lifted the lid, I realized it was a little velvet jewelry box. Inside, a pair of rose quartz earrings sat on a little purple pillow.
“My, oh my,” Rarity said from where she reclined on the chaise lounge. “If somepony is going to impersonate me, they would have done better picking something in season. Rose quartz is a spring gem.” She preened at her mane flippantly.
“Yeah,” Applejack said, smirking at her. “You’re a worse liar than Big Mac. I’m callin’ it now. These’re Rarity’s.”
Rarity harrumphed. “Okay, fine. You’re no fun, Applejack.”
Applejack tapped her hat further back on her head. “Heh, told ya.”
She turned to me. “Your turn, Princess.”
Oh, me already? I briefly eyed the box in Pinkie Pie’s lap and its allure of mystery, but perchance something greater yet awaited us amongst the pile. One such possibility stood tall in the form of a cylindrical tube that piqued my interest, and so I took it. Whatever it held inside flopped loosely back and forth. I unwrapped the present to find of all things a featherless chicken staring back at me with large, beady eyes and gaping beak as if mid squawk. Although, that did not quite describe it. ’Twas an effigy of sorts, made of a flexible synthetic material.
“What a strange contraption,” I mused.
“Never seen a rubber chicken before, have you, Princess?” Applejack asked.
“Indeed I have not. What is its purpose, if I may ask?”
“It’s a toy, silly,” Pinkie Pie said.
She took it from me and gave it a squeeze. It honked in what I imagined to be disdain of its very existence. Quite the pathetic display if I were to admit, yet strangely endearing for that very reason. I took it back and gave it a smile.
“I shall name him Reginald.” Perhaps Tiberius would find similar amusement in our newfound friend. Still, a nagging thought worm drew my eyes toward the box in Pinkie Pie’s lap. What in Equestria could it be? A “rogue present” as Twilight put it? A present within a present, even. How curious.
A reflexive pang of buyer’s remorse hit me. However, ’twas in my favor that I chose to abide, should I later desire it.
“Okay,” Twilight said. “My turn. I’d like to take that book if you don’t mind, Fluttershy.”
“Oh, not at all! Here you go.”
Twilight regarded its cover fondly, and I smiled with the knowledge I had chosen my gift wisely.
“Of course you’d go for the book,” Rainbow Dash said, grinning.
“Of course I would,” Twilight said. She challenged Rainbow Dash’s raillery with a little grin of her own. “You know I like books.”
“We all know you like books,” Applejack said.
Twilight stuck her tongue out at each of them and giggled.
Meanwhile, Spike chose that moment to enter with a tray carrying a fresh platter of cookies, pungent with the smell of cinnamon, and a silver carafe. He set them atop an end table beside Twilight.
“Alright!” Rainbow Dash said, snagging a hoofful of cookies for herself. “Snickerdoodles!”
“Yep!” Spike said. “Everypony enjoy. There’s plenty more where that came from.” He made to leave, but curiosity was an ever-persistent beast, and so I stopped him as he passed me by.
“Do you not partake?” I asked quietly, gesturing at our little circle.
He waved a claw at me. “Nah, it’s not really my thing. I’m also really bad at the guessing part anyway. I prefer baking my famous Hearth’s Warming treats. Everypony likes it when I’m working the kitchen!”
“Yeah, we do!” Pinkie Pie said, snatching a cookie from the plate, tossing it in the air, and catching it in her mouth.
“Just holler if you guys need anything,” he said, scampering out the door. “You’ll like the hot chocolate!”
Hot chocolate? Doubtlessly, I would! I had tried many a delicacy since my return, chocolate in any form chief among them.
Cacao was a rare commodity in the old days. Orion could count upon his belt the number of times I had entertained its unique flavor, and so I was not one to turn down such an offer. Granted, I did not possess Sister’s sweet tooth—I doubted anypony did—but I allowed myself to indulge from time to time.
I levitated the carafe and a cup for pouring, but a sky blue aura intermingled with my own.
“Ah ah ah...” Rarity said. “You’re a guest, darling. Allow me.” She took the carafe from my magic and poured a steaming cup for each of us.
I took the one presented to me and filled it with a hoofful of miniature red-and-green marshmallows from a little serving bowl. ’Twas ripe with the smell of nutmeg, and upon sampling the concoction, I found that he had added a pinch of peppermint to give it a chilling yet refreshing aftertaste. The marshmallows had a strange candied flavor to them that I did not care for, but they failed to dampen the experience.
“Okay,” Twilight said, wiping a smattering of whipped cream from her upper lip. “Back around to the start, that’s you, Rainbow Dash.”
“Mhm!” Rainbow Dash said. She chose a small box the size of a slide rule case. From it she pulled a hollow tube made of… plastic, was it called? It offended the eye with an array of fluorescent oranges and yellows, but Rainbow Dash found reason to entertain a bemused grin. “Really? A kazoo?”
I wrinkled my nose. “What is a—”
She blew into the contraption, and from it came the strangest noise, like a cross between the buzz of a honeybee and somepony strangling a goose.
“Is this one yours, Pinkie?”
“What part of ‘you already wasted your guess’ don’t you seem to get?” Applejack punched Rainbow Dash playfully in the shoulder.
Rainbow Dash returned the gesture. “Maybe the part where I totally bet you I’m right this time.”
“Yep. Just like last time, right?” They hassled each other a moment longer.
Twilight leaned forward ever so slightly, with her head level and shoulders straightened back—a subtle authoritative posture I knew from a lifetime of rule. A gentle word of order sat poised on the tip of her tongue, but their raillery subsided ere she found need to let it fledge the nest.
On cue, Rarity selected an unassuming flat box, roughly the size of a sheet of paper. Within was, I surmised, another toy—a red-and-blue propeller on a stick made of that same plastic material. The whole of it was roughly the size of a pencil.
“Oh, how quaint.” She spun the toy on its axis, and off it twirled, up toward the rafters. Moments later, it drifted back down like a maple seed and into the gentle grasp of her magic. “I haven’t seen one of these in years.”
“So um, it’s my turn right?” Fluttershy said. She tapped the tips of her hooves together. “I-I’d like to take Applejack’s present. Those look very pretty.”
“Of course,” Applejack said, handing the earrings to Fluttershy. “Glad somepony other than me’s gettin’ ’em. Heh, could you imagine me wearin’ those?”
“I could,” I said, “Frankly, I do not see the issue of imagining such a thing, and I should think you would look rather charming.”
She went a little red in the face. “Oh, uh… That’s mighty flatterin’ of you, Princess, but they’re uh… not really my style.”
Rainbow Dash snorted, and Rarity appeared to relish Applejack’s discomfort behind a dainty sip of hot chocolate.
Apparently, I had stumbled upon another turn of phrase. There were many such phrases going around as of late. Linguistic drift, it seemed, would forever be a nemesis of mine.
Regardless, Rarity cleared her throat to rescue me from whatever faux pas I had committed and refocus our attention on the game at hand. “Your turn, Miss Charming,” she said, a widowmaker’s grin belying her thin veneer of etiquette moments prior.
Applejack matched Rarity’s grin with a frown and a string of colorful mutterings under her breath. She snatched the final remaining present off the tray, a squat little thing the size of one’s hoof. From the box, she pulled a little wooden bird—a cuckoo, I surmised. It had little glass eyes like black opals that caught the light just so, and a brass key protruded from its back. A look of recognition tinged with nostalgia threaded across Applejack’s face.
“Heh, well would ya look at that? It’s one of them wind-up toys.” She twisted the key ere setting it on the tray, and it began waddling unsteadily on blocky legs. She laughed. “My cousins over in Yonder Hill used to make these, race ’em at our family reunions when I was a filly.”
“Oh,” Fluttershy said. “It looks like Calloway.”
“That a bird friend of yours?” Applejack asked.
Fluttershy nodded. “He’s nice. He comes by every spring to say hello while migrating north to his home near Fillydelphia.”
Twilight glanced about our party. “That’s all the presents. Any last guesses or steals?”
“I think I’m good.” Applejack patted the cuckoo’s head. “This here’ll go on the mantlepiece next to the clock I got last year.”
“Likewise,” Rarity said. “I do believe Sweetie Belle would enjoy this.” She scrunched her nose. “Though… just not in my boutique.”
“Eh,” Rainbow Dash said. “Kazoos are fun. Tank’ll probably like it.”
“I’m good, too,” Fluttershy said, admiring the earrings.
“Me, too!” Pinkie Pie said.
“I don’t think we need to ask if you’re good, Twi,” Applejack said, eyeing Abjuror’s in Twilight’s lap.
Twilight giggled. “I think you’re right. What about you, Princess Luna?”
Forever a Princess of Friendship she was, always eager to include the odd mare out. Was I having fun? her smile asked once again, and indeed I could not possibly say otherwise.
However, there remained one final loose end, a quarry I had abided in the name of pleasantries and secretive desire. Reginald was a fine specimen, but the allure of mystery yet wound its subtle enchantments.
“I would like to guess,” I said.
This being the first I had taken hold of the limelight tonight, a hush quickly fell upon our gathering. Everypony awaited what next I spake, and I felt the sudden rush of anticipation amongst them.
I contemplated the box and its many wrappings. ’Twas a game of its own, this box of boxes.
How many wrappings? How many times did its purveyor wish to elude and tease? Cleverness aside, who among us would bother preparing such a gift? The writing on the note—the phrasing—and it was then that I knew.
“The box is Twilight’s gift,” I said.
Twilight smiled. “It is.”
“Wait, really?” Rainbow Dash said. “It for real wasn’t Pinkie’s?”
“Nope!” Pinkie Pie said. She pointed at the cuckoo in Applejack’s hooves. “That one was.”
“While I do not doubt Spike’s abilities with a quill,” I said. “I cannot think of anypony present that would dictate these instructions in such a way other than Twilight.”
The smile on Twilight’s face was nothing short of glowing. “Does that mean you’re going to steal it?”
It had already been opened thrice, and if its wrappings were any indication of the thought put into what awaited inside, I could not help but relish the possibilities. “I think I shall,” I said.
Pinkie Pie relinquished the box to me, and I held it aloft.
“You know, Your Highness,” Applejack said. “You coulda just stolen it without guessin’, since you hadn’t stolen anything yet.”
“True, but it felt only right that I earned it in some capacity.” I turned to Pinkie Pie. “I should think this means Reginald now belongs to you?”
“It sure seems that way,” Pinkie Pie said, snatching Reginald from my magic and giving him another squeeze. She nestled him in the poof of her mane, where his head flopped dramatically to one side. “Don’t worry, I’ll take great care of Reggie. I even know somepony who has a friend he’d love to meet.”
I… was not sure how to respond to that, but I smiled nonetheless. To the matter at hand, however, I held aloft the box that seemed to captivate the room. All eyes were upon me, expectant.
“So,” Applejack said. “You gonna open it?”
I smirked. “Indeed I shall, but the question remains: will it be a box that says ‘open only once?’ or will it be the gift we have been waiting to see? And if it is another box thus inscribed, am I to leave it as such, forever wrapped for the world to ponder?”
Twilight giggled. “You’re allowed to open it all the way down to the gift if nopony else has any steals. I guess I should have written that. I think there’s four more layers left?”
“It’s been opened three times now,” Rarity said. “If there’s four more, then that’s enough for it to have gone around the room once.” She quirked an eyebrow and a provocative grin at Twilight. “Seems a little on the nose, don’t you think, Twilight?”
“Just open the box,” Rainbow Dash said on the edge of her seat. “I wanna know what’s in it now!”
I swept my eyes across the group once more. Confident I had paused long enough for effect, I undid the ribbon; did away with the lid; and from within I pulled, as expected, another box. Much to the amusement of all present, thrice more did I wrestle with the trappings until the final box revealed, of all things, a book.
The flames of a deep-red solar flare burst across its dust jacket, curling around the star-strewn silhouette of a pegasus mare alighting atop a mountain peak. It, too, shared her starry sky motif as if they were one and the same. On the Wings of Infinity its title read across the top in sweeping gold-stamped cursive.
“It’s about a mare named Serendipity who doesn’t quite feel like she fits in,” Twilight said. “It’s about her trying to find her way in life, and all the places she goes and the friends she makes along the way.”
I tilted the book this way and that, admiring the details in the illustration. Its gilded edges caught the firelight most impressively. I smiled.
“I think I shall like it.” With that, I carefully placed it in my saddlebags.
“Well,” Twilight said. “That’s all the gifts, and I don’t think anypony else has any steals they want to do?” She swept the question over those in our company, and a general consensus seemed to rule the moment, with everypony thus admiring their chosen gift, ere a gradual shift in conversation heralded the main events of the evening.
It did not take a social expert to realize this little “white elephant” game was merely window dressing, an excuse to come together and celebrate the true heart of the season—not that an excuse was ever needed. Nevertheless, ’twas a means to an end, as social contrivances go, and it did well to set the tone whilst a mite bit too much eggnog kept the festivities afloat and our hearts warm with the spirit of friendship.
Mayhaps I found myself too steeped in revelry, however, as it was not until well after six that I realized I had forgotten to raise the moon.
Twilight showed me to the highest balcony of her castle, and upon stepping out to the delightful crunch of snow beneath our hooves, the moon already smiled down from its place in the sky.
Sister, bless her, must have raised it in my absence.
’Twas a waning crescent moon tonight, as was its schedule, but even still it commanded its share of wonder, limning the distant snow-capped peaks of Canterlot Mountain in silver and chasing away the nighttime shadows of the valley below into the furthest reaches of the Everfree and the countryside beyond. Up here, well above the sprawling rooftops of Ponyville, the world prostrated itself before Winter’s silent majesty.
“It’s really pretty out tonight,” Twilight said. She came abreast of me, eyes toward the heavens. Her breaths came in little puffs that trailed off into the night. The cold night air had her clenching her wings tight against her sides for warmth, but she tried her hardest not to let it show. “I’ve always liked how the moonlight reflects off the snow. Being able to see clear off to Van Hoover. How quiet winter nights can get. Just you and the moon.”
“’Tis peaceful,” I said, following her gaze. “I oft find myself ruminating at such hours. The silence does well to soothe the mind.”
A quiet chuckle punctuated her reverence of the winter silence, but she otherwise let pass whatever had amused her. Her gaze fell to the town sprawled out before us and the many windows aglow with the light of life and warmth within.
“Thanks again for coming,” she said at length. “It really does mean a lot, even if it’s just a silly excuse to invite everypony over.”
“Silly excuse or not, I enjoyed myself. I should thank you for the opportunity to ‘get out,’ as I have heard it said.”
I followed the trail of my own breath upward into the night sky. With a crescent moon above, the stars were hesitant to show themselves until well after the sun had set. But now, emboldened by their stellar sister, they took their first steps into the heavens and gazed back at us with childlike curiosity.
“Your friends,” I said. “Keep them close, as you do. The goodness in their souls is worth their weight in gold. The fire of your friendship is truly a wonder to behold, and all the more wondrous that it came to be in the first place.”
“I plan on it,” she said. “They really are the best friends I could ask for.”
“Indeed. And what a curious assortment of trinkets they procured for the occasion.” I chuckled. “A rubber chicken. What feverishness possessed the creator of such a thing?”
She laughed, full bellied and genuine. Her wings flitted with the excess of emotion, and up came a hoof to stymie her outburst.
“I don’t know if there’s an answer for that. Ponies can be strange even when they’re in their right minds.”
“Strange, indeed. The pink one will forever confound me.”
“Honestly? I still feel that way, too. But it’s a good kind of confounding.”
I chuckled, but otherwise let the following silence respool my thoughts. “You were hoping I would be the one to choose your gift. The many wrappings… The leading question ere I stole it. ’Twas your idea, was it not?”
“It was,” she said after a moment. “I know you’re a thinker like me, so I figured the box-in-a-box present would spark your curiosity. That and yes, I guess I kind of nudged you at the end there.”
I rewarded her remark with a smile. “Whether you nudged me or not, you know me well. One does not work the multitudes of the Dreamscape without learning to ponder, and ponder you made me. And I appreciate the gift itself as well.”
She lit up at my statement, and the hint of a blush shone through her cheeks. Still not one for praise, it seemed. Modest and caring, a Princess of Friendship through and through.
“Similarly,” I continued, “although I did not know of the guessing game beforehand, I am glad all the same that I could give your friends ‘the run-around.’ Everything seemed to fall into place rather nicely.”
Twilight lowered her gaze to the snow at our hooves. Long did she stay that way, lingering on whatever had stuck itself in her mind. Eventually, she brought a smile up to me.
“Serendipity,” she said.
I laughed. ’Twas a good laugh, full-bodied and filled with the spirit of the season. Friendship and camaraderie aside, that laugh alone made the journey worthwhile.
“Serendipity, indeed,” I said. I pulled the book from my saddlebags and regarded the mare on its cover. “I think I will like it.”
“Don’t count yourself out of that, by the way.” The tone of her voice carried a particular weight to it, a sense of empathy whose magnitude I could not rightly put into words. “What you said about my friends earlier. You’re part of that, too. You’re worth just as much.”
That stopped me short. I knew she respected me as a leader and as counsel on royal matters, but I did not expect her to regard me on a nigh sororal level. It brought a genuine smile to my face.
“I am honored to be counted among them.”
A brief silence filled in between us, one Twilight tried breaking by pawing at the snow. “You’ll have to join us for more get-togethers like this.”
I nodded. “I think I would like that as well. For now, however, I should be off. The dreams of our little ponies will soon need tending, and you are shivering.”
She laughed in admission, letting the shivers run freely up her spine. “Yeah, it’s kind of cold out. Are you sure you’ll be okay flying home? We have plenty of beds. You could always spend the night.”
“Sister has always been, is, and forever will be the doting type, and I loathe to imagine what I will find should I not return home ‘before bedtime.’” I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help the little smile that came to me. “She and I are over a thousand years old, yet forever will I remain her baby sister.”
“I can relate,” Twilight said. “She means well, even if it can be annoying at times.”
“She does indeed mean well, and I shall carry that fire with me into the night.” I nuzzled her on the cheek. “Your own fire awaits you inside, young Twilight. Go get warm.”
She giggled, and out went those wings of hers. Her cheeks were flushed, and the cold nipped at her nose.
“I will once you leave,” she said.
“Very well. Goodnight, Twilight. And Happy Hearth’s Warming.”
“Happy Hearth’s Warming.”
Our farewells exchanged, I took flight into the star-strewn expanse.
Out over the snow-slumbering town, out across the moonlit valley, out into the vastness of the cold winter’s night. The wind beneath my wings whispered of the long winter ahead, and the snowscape a thousand feet below glittered in the moonlight, dormant and ephemeral.
What few shadows I could spy huddled close to the base of Canterlot Mountain, away from the moon’s prying gaze. Come the moon’s passage across the sky, they too would join those chased into the Everfree and the distant countryside and with them the creeping thoughts that possessed me in these liminal hours.
Indeed, serendipity had graced me this day—in the form of a party, in the form of a friend. A minute fraction of time in the grand scheme, yet a ripple that would span every cycle thence. A reminder of the equine spirit and all that made life worth living.
Though as droll as such thoughts may be, I cherished their warmth as they drew me ever onward toward the candle-lit peaks of home and the fire that awaited me there.