Friendships in Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear
Nothing much happened in Ponyville, and that was how Applejack liked it. After all, things getting lively usually meant trouble from the Everfree. It definitely meant the chores got interrupted.
Of course, in winter there were fewer chores to worry about and the biggest event was a happy one. Hearth’s Warming was almost as good as cider season for both fun and sales, especially since Granny Smith could still take care of the lengthy list of Apples who expected holiday cards from Sweet Apple Acres.
But fewer chores weren’t the same thing as none. Sure, the trees were dormant, but the chickens sure weren’t, to say nothing of organizing the party for all of the farm’s tenants. Cows and sheep might not have been part of the fable of Equestria’s founding, but that was no reason to leave them out of the festivities.
So it was while hauling a load of decorations to the biggest barn on the Acres that Applejack ran into a much less welcome event.
“Heya, Apples.”
Or rather, it flew into her.
She glowered up at the sound. One nice thing about the thick pre-holiday cloud cover, it denied the nuisance any clear sky to hide in. “Rainbow Dash,” Applejack all but growled. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the hotshot new weathermare, it…
Okay, she genuinely didn’t like the braggart. Rainbow was all take and as little give as she could get away with. And yet here she was, hovering in front of Applejack with a carefree smile, a scarf as a token concession to a chill that had the earth mare bundled up like a caterpillar in a cocoon, and certainly not an offer to help pull the wagon. “So…” Rainbow said, smile still on her lips after an answering glare.
Applejack arched an eyebrow. “So?”
That innocent expression had no business being on that guilty muzzle. “Just wondering if you had anything you might want to give your friendly neighborhood weather team for Hearth’s Warming.”
Applejack's flat look sadly wasn't enough to ground her. “Seriously?”
“Hey, nopony’s asking for a lot." Rainbow wavered in the air, looking everywhere but Applejack. "A card, a pie we can all split…" Almost facing away from her, Rainbow dared to glance back. "A cask of cider.”
That explained it. There were a lot of things Applejack could say about Rainbow Dash, but at least the mare appreciated a good mug of cider. Going by the look of wonder on her face after that first sip a few moons ago, one might have thought she’d drunk from the chalice of Celestia herself.
The following look of disappointment when she found out she’d have to get back in line for another round still kept Applejack warm at night.
That still wasn't enough to hold back a twitch in her eye now. “After a year o’ makin’ rain hours behind schedule, nappin’ in my trees, eatin’ my apples off the branch, an’ leavin’ craters in my land with yer cockamamie stunt ideas that you ain’t never stuck around to fill back in, you want a Hearth’s Warmin’ gift. From me.”
“Not just for me. This is for the whole team." A smug look slithered onto Rainbow's face. "And hey, who do you think pulled some strings to hold off the first frost for a few days so you could finish that last harvest?”
“Cloudchaser?”
That got a wink. “Cloudchaser wasn’t chillaxing in one of your trees when you told your brother you were worried about it.”
Applejack huffed out a breath, a white cloud billowing out of her nostrils. She felt angry as a dragon, so that fit. “So you’ve been eavesdroppin’ too.”
Rainbow leaned back in the air, head resting on her forehooves. “You’re welcome.”
The building anger came together in a moment of clarity. “You know what? I think I do have a gift for you, Rainbow Dash." Applejack turned to start unhitching herself. "Hold on a spell.”
Once she was out of the traces, Rainbow followed close behind, because of course she'd stopped listening after she'd gotten what she'd wanted. “I mean, you don’t have to pick out something just for me, but if you insist…”
“Oh, I insist." Once Applejack reached the root cellar, she threw the doors open. "I absolutely insist.”
Rainbow hung back from the small underground space, but still called after her. “So are there any special storage instructions or anything? Don’t want any going to waste, you know?”
“Sure do.” Applejack made her selection, then turned back for the entrance, unable to keep a satisfied smirk off her lips. “But it’ll keep. It’ll keep real well.”
“Great." Rainbow came back into view, eyes darting and trying to find the gift. Her gleeful expression fell to a confused frown. "So… Where’s the cider?”
Applejack simply tossed the oldest, driest apple she'd been able to find in the air before bucking it straight into the other mare's face. “Happy Hearth’s Warmin’, ya foal of a mule!”
Okay, so Operation: Sweet Apple Shopping didn’t quite go as planned, but Rainbow “Improvisation” Dash was nothing if not capable of solving problems on the fly. Usually with less than a second between her and a painful impact valuable learning experience for future aerobatics, so having whole minutes to work with meant she’d nail it no problem.
First, up to the top of the cloud layer to scoop up a bit of snowcloud nopony would miss and hold it against her eye. It’d still be one heck of a shiner, but that would get the pain down to just keeping her sharp.
Then to her awesome cloud house and her… less-awesome-than-her-average kitchen. It definitely wasn’t as well-equipped as her mom’s back in Cloudsdale, but it had everything Dash needed for traditional Pegasopolitan cuisine. All two styles: Raw and lightning-charred.
Hey, it was Hearth’s Warming. When better for the old recipes?
One buck and one bolt later, the rock-hard apple was… Okay, so it was a little on fire, but she blew that out no problem. End result, another flawless success for Rainbow “Epicure” Dash! This would definitely be as good as the word-a-day calendar she got last year.
She shoved oven mitts onto her forehooves, grabbed the apple, and went all-out to her destination.
A knock on the door just got a startled "Eep!" That meant the recipient was home. Dash knocked harder.
Several weird noises answered her, but what mattered was that the door opened a crack. A crack was all she needed. "Hey, Shy!"
A yellow head poked out, gazing up in wonder. Probably wonder, anyway. "Rainbow Dash?"
"Happy Hearth's Warming!" Dash thrust out a mitted hoof. "I know it's early but I promised my folks I'd spend the actual holidays with them and you know how they are."
"Well—"
A thought flashed across her brilliant mind. "Hey, could you look after my place while I'm out of town? Make sure it doesn't drift apart or anything?"
"I—"
"It's real simple. Just make sure it stays molded and you'll be golden." Another thought followed the first. "Oh, and maybe turn off the rainbow fountain sometime today? Mom and Dad are expecting me in ten minutes. Maybe five? No problem for me, but still."
"But—"
"Thanks, Shy, you're a pal!" Dash tucked gift and mitts under one of her friend's wings. "Put those back when you're at my place? See you next week!" With everything settled, she pointed herself at Cloudsdale and put on some serious speed.
Rainbow "Excelsior" Dash was always awesome, but she felt especially lucky knowing she had such a good friend.
Today had been a good day by Fluttershy's standards. It might still be, but first she had recenter herself after Rainbow Dash had blown past like an especially affectionate crossbreeze.
She absently poured herself another cup of tea and picked her book up off the floor, more focused on her thoughts. It wasn't that she didn't like Rainbow Dash. She was very glad that their chance encounter at flight camp had become a friendship even through very different interests, temperaments, and attitudes towards life. To say nothing of Zephyr Breeze's colthood crush curdling into one of the many reasons why Fluttershy was ashamed to be related to him, but that was another matter.
Still, dealing with Rainbow went better when Fluttershy had time to prepare herself, not while savoring a rare moment of downtime as most of the creatures she looked after were hibernating.
Only when she sat back on her couch did the lump tucked under one wing make its presence known, the hard mass poking into her ribs. Fluttershy lifted the wing, let it roll onto a cushion, and wrinkled her muzzle considered it.
It smelled nice enough. Roasted apples with a hint of ozone, like when her father baked a cake. But the actual object was... less than appealing. She could only tell it was an apple from the stem; the rest was so puckered and dry that she never would have guessed otherwise. Carbonized flakes peeled off of the blackened spot up top even as she watched, and she just knew some of the ash had already gotten ground into the couch cushions. (To be fair, they'd seen worse.)
Lest she seem ungrateful, Fluttershy still leaned down, took a moment to choose the least objectionable portion of the fruit, and bit down as best she could.
It was like trying to bite through wood, which Fluttershy knew from experience after helping Mr. and Mrs. Beaverton raise their kits. It didn't even taste much better.
Actually, speaking of kits...
Fluttershy gasped. "That could work!" she cried as loudly as she dared with all the little darlings still settling themselves after Rainbow's knocking. She tiphoofed down to the cottage's basement and the workshop within. She selected a few balls of yarn, a fresh pair of needles, and got to work. Compared to projects like the dragon or the life-sized cloud gremlin, this idea would only be the work of a morning.
She didn't have many friends, after all. It would only be fitting to show her appreciation to one of the others with something she would appreciate on multiple levels.
Hopefully.
The knitting helped. Fluttershy could hunch in on herself without ruining the project when it had hardly begun.
By the time she was finished, it was time to feed those few animal friends who were awake enough to want lunch. Once everyone was tended to, she bundled up—which meant a hat and scarf given the mild surface winters—and took wing for Ponyville. Slow as she was in the air, trudging through the snow would be even slower, and she did have other duties to worry about even in the quiet season. But the chance to thank a friend for having the patience to put up with her was more than important enough to interrupt her schedule.
Being able to pick out the Carousel Boutique so easily from the air was a side benefit.
A knock at the door went unanswered. After a minute of gathering up her courage, Fluttershy dared to knock hard enough that she could actually hear it. That got a "We are open. Do come in!" in response. Fluttershy silently kicked herself for not checking the business hours, but still opened the door.
"I should warn you," said Rarity, not looking up from her sewing machine, "I cannot offer anything truly bespoke this close to Hearth's Warming unless you plan on giving it next year. Adjustments for anything off the rack are of course available, but I'm afraid you'll be on your own for getting the recipient's measurements if you want it to be even close to a surprise."
Fluttershy winced. Of course the holidays would be busy for an independent businessmare. "I can see you're busy. I'll just leave Opalescence's gift here."
That got a gasp as Rarity turned to her. "Fluttershy! Darling, think nothing of it! I can always spare time for the only mare in town who can keep Opal in hoof, gifts or no." She got off the stool and stretched, several painful-sounding cracks ringing through the boutique. "Goodness me. Been at that longer than I thought. And I suppose keeping poor Opal in the side room during the holiday rush isn't winning me any points."
"She's not very happy with that, no," Fluttershy said as she followed Rarity upstairs. "I didn't mean to interrupt—"
"Pish tosh. If I can't interrupt myself for a friend, what's the point of Hearth's Warming?" Rarity opened the door to her guest room and called out, "Opal, sweetie, come see what Fluttershy brought you!"
How well Fluttershy could understand an animal depended on how well she knew them. With Angel Bunny, she could hold a complete, if simple conversation. Opalescence was more vague, but the irritated yowl that came from under the bed was clearly condemnation of Rarity's parentage and progeny unto the seventh generation. Both ways.
Fluttershy bit her lip. "Maybe now isn't a good time."
"Oh, she's just a little cranky-wanky," Rarity said with a smile. "She knows Mommy still wuvs her."
The answering hiss promised the impudent horseflesh that if she died in her sleep, she would provide Opal a better meal than she ever had in life.
"You really should let her out more," said Fluttershy.
The smile gave way to a side-eye. "I would," Rarity muttered, "but she treats everything as a scratching post except the actual post."
Fluttershy walked into the room and leaned down in front of Opal's lair. "If you accept this sacrifice," she whispered, "will you spare her your wrath?"
That got an ambivalent rumble on how the quality of the offering would determine Opal's acquiescence.
Fluttershy reached up under her knit cap and rolled a knit apple under the bed. It jinged faintly with the motion, and more loudly as Opal pounced at it, rolled around with it, and promptly tore it open to scatter the stuffing and small bell about the room.
"Opal!" cried Rarity. "Really, is that any way to behave?"
"I kind of expected that," Fluttershy said with a shrug of her wings.
Rarity pouted as she lifted the torn scrap of red yarn. "Oh, but it was such a charming little bauble."
That got a smile. "It was a cat toy, Rarity. If she tore it apart, that meant she liked it."
For her part, Opal gave a placated purr and rubbed against both mares' legs. The unicorn would live another day.
"See?"
"All the same, it seems both wasteful and ungracious to..." Rarity brought a hoof to her chin as she contemplated the knitting. "Hmm..."
"Rarity?"
"I do believe I've thought of a way to make up for Opal's crass behavior and cross off one of the more troublesome entires on my own Hearth's Warming list." Rarity turned and beamed. "Thank you, Fluttershy, for the gift and the inspiration both. At the very latest, I trust I'll see you at our next spa appointment."
"Of course." The fact that Rarity put up with her enough to actually invite her to something like that was still a bit astonishing, even after moons of doing so. "You really liked it?"
"Based on your expert testimony? At least as much as Opal did."
It was the work of a moment to salvage the remnants of Fluttershy's creation into something once more presentable. Well, it felt like a moment. Rarity's growling stomach clearly and uncouthly disagreed. Fortunately, she'd anticipated such criticism and could address that issue even as she brought the gift to its intended recipient.
Sugarcube Corner was unsuprisingly bustling. Anypony who had to move through the current frigidity was bound to think longingly of a hot drink and a fresh pastry, no matter how fetching or insulating their winter outfit might be. Rarity's own blend of form and function scarcely felt like anything at all by the time she wiped her boots on the bakery's doormat.
To her credit, Pinkie held herself to a wave. That restraint even held out until Rarity made it to the front of the line. "Hi, Rarity! Your usual?"
"Good afternoon, Pinkie." Rarity had tried to call her "Miss Pie" in the first few moons of their acquaintance. "Pinkie" felt terribly familiar for a mare whose primary relationship with Rarity was ice cream supplier, but Pinkie welcomed such familiarity, wearing her down with almost eerily persistent good cheer. Besides, Rarity wasn't going to disappoint the mare who could churn the best vanilla oat swirl she'd ever tasted. "And thank you, but it's hardly the season for it... and I still have two quarts in my icebox. Besides, I came here to give you something." She floated a tastefully wrapped box out of her purse and onto the counter.
"Oooh, what is it, what is it?" Wrapping paper fountained out across the bakery, far more than Rarity had actually used. She told herself it was part of Pinkie's charm. Once the present was revealed, Pinkie looked back at her, the smile unmoving but confusion and curiosity mingling in her voice. "What is it?"
"It's a fascinator." Rarity's magic gently but insistently tugged the knitted holly bunch out of Pinkie's hooves, then clipped it on an outer region of the earth mare's mane. "The red shades nicely into your colors, the green frames it wonderfully, and it's perfect for the holiday." She cleared her throat. "And, well, there may have been a mishap earlier today with a gift I received, and my solution on how to rectify it also answered the problem of not knowing what to get you."
Somehow, Pinkie's smile grew even wider. "Aw, Rarity, you didn't have to get me anything."
Several ponies cleared their throats behind Rarity.
"Except maybe an order before the line goes out the door."
"Ah. Yes." Rarity risked an apologetic glance at the crowd behind her. The scowls sent her back to surveying the display case. "Rather important. And that spinach quiche looks scrumptious..."
Most ponies might think that Sugarcube Corner would calm down a bit after the lunch rush. Most days, that would be true. But this close to Hearth's Warming, for every pony who wanted to get in a catering order on the last day the Cakes could take them, there was another staggering in mid-shopping-spree desperate for the fuel to keep going, and another still who needed something hot to melt the icicles in their mane.
The Cakes themselves were in the back, mixing icing, kneading dough, forging fruitcakes, and all the other important baker business necessary for making Hearth's Warming as happy as possible. That left Pinkie at the counter, and as much as she'd rather be planning out holiday festivities—especially now that she'd finally finished excavating the party cave underneath the shop!—she was never one to shirk her duty when others were counting on her. Especially not when that duty meant serving up smiles and also hot cocoa.
Rarity's present helped, providing a pleasant bobbing counterpoint to Pinkie's bouncing behind the counter. And it definitely seemed to fascinate ponies. As the day went on, more and more customers couldn't look away from it.
After sunset, a bit before five o'clock, when there was enough of a lull that Pinkie could get a few minutes in the little filly's room, she saw why in her reflection. She was no seamstress, but she was pretty sure yarn wasn't supposed to blur like that.
"Working retail gets rough, huh, little guy?" Once she'd washed and dried her hooves, she gave the fascinator an encouraging poke. "Don't worry, we'll get through it!"
The accessory settled down again, at least in terms of not smearing across her mane and a bit of the air outside it. As for shape...
Well, it had been a long day (and one that would provide plenty of party funds!) Pinkie wasn't going to judge.
She zipped back behind the counter just in time to see a white-coated pegasus trot in without so much as an ear-mitten on. "Hey there! You must be freezing!"
"Hmm?" The mare shifted her pink mane out of her eyes, then looked back outside. The wind had picked up, sending flurries swirling across the streets. "Oh yes, I suppose it is rather chilly out. I've always run hot."
Pinkie nodded. That would explain the sun cutie mark. "So, what can I get you?"
"I'm just here for a pickup order." The mare's gaze drifted to the display case. "Just... just here for a pickup order." She licked her lips as she passed Pinkie a claim ticket.
Pinkie's grin took on a mischievous slant. "It's getting late in the day," she noted as she got the matching box. "We'd either eat them ourselves or throw them out."
The mare bit her lip, all but prancing in place. With a wince and a sigh, she said, "You are a vile temptress, miss. The Chocotacular Cupcakes, please. Before I change my mind."
“I’ll get you a royal dozen!”
That made the mare stagger back a step. “A what?”
Pinkie winked. “It’s like a baker’s dozen, but there’s one more on top of that! That order is for Castle Canterlot, after all.”
“Ah. I was worried it might be a politician’s dozen." The mare returned the wink. "Promising twelve, but getting eleven if you’re lucky.”
Both laughed at that, at least until a full-body twitch nearly sent Pinkie tumbling to the floor.
“Are you alright, miss?”
“I’m fine, sure, but somepony else isn’t." Pinkie took off her fascinator and clipped it to the edge of the cupcake box. "Take this too!”
The mare gave it an uneasy look. “If I may ask, what is it?”
“Well, it started as a fascinator, but staying in my mane all afternoon may have made it a little too fascinating for its own good. Still, I’ve got a hunch that somepony you know will really appreciate it!”
“I see." After a moment of thought, the mare gave a solemn nod, like Pinkie's dad when interpreting the wisdom of the stones. "Thank you, miss. I think I know just who it’s meant for." She and Pinkie set to work balancing the assorted packages on her back. "Happy Hearth’s Warming,” she said on the way out.
Pinkie waved as she left. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Princess Celestia!”
To her credit, after the initial moment of shock, the princess laughed that off without even stumbling.
Celestia pondered the strange weave of yarn and magic the baker had given her with her seasonal dietary indiscretion. Only a fool ignored the magical or literal gifts of seers, and the misshapen, doily-like object she now balanced on one hoof counted as both. There was a power in it that she thought she might never sense again, familiar yet enticingly novel. Like the knitted scrap itself, that magic was raw and inchoate, but the potential there...
She regretted that she didn’t know the full story. There was too much latent energy there to have all come from one earth mare, with or without the sight (or the twitch, as the case may be.) The gift, the idea of the gift, had passed through many hooves, each of which had provided their own contribution. All she knew for certain was that the comingled auras were all too fresh to have come from anywhere but Ponyville.
“Raven, I believe I’ve decided where we’ll be having the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration.”
Her secretary paused midway through a requisition form. “I was under the impression that it would be in Fillydelphia, Your Highness.”
“That had never been officially finalized." Celestia didn't like using her power as a bludgeon, but she didn't have time to finesse this one. "Start making inroads with Mayor Marion Mare of Ponyville. I’m sure the two of you will have much to discuss.”
Raven clearly had thoughts on the matter, but she kept them to herself. She merely nodded, said “Yes, Your Highness,” and departed the throne room.
Twilight Sparkle entered moments later, muzzle in a book and Spike on her back. Celestia didn't have the time for finesse, but she somehow found a few moments to curse herself for the damage she'd unwittingly done to such a promising young mare through sheer overcompensation. And yet, after Sunset, how could she not—
“You wanted to see me, Princess?”
Celestia silently thanked her student for cutting off that line of thought. “I’ll be brief, Twilight. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your family or your studies for overly long, after all.” Not friends, though. She’d have to have some. “Consider this an early Hearth’s Warming present.”
That finally got Twilight to look up from her current reading. She wrinkled her muzzle at the wrinkled object, crochet somehow forming the curling, unnatural curves of warped space Celestia had last seen in the final battle against Discord. And before Celestia could say anything more, her student grabbed the delicate object, the lingering aura she had been so careful not to contaminate, in her own incredibly strong magic.
"Oh!"
And yet those vestiges weren't drowned out. They fed into Twilight's spell, brief rainbows playing against the fuchsia glow. The yarn warped and shifted, reshaping itself back into conventional curvature and recognizable form. “That was… unexpected," Twilight said, book as forgotten as it ever could be. "What kind of spell was that?”
Celestia allowed herself a sliver of a smile. “Would you believe me if I told you nothing had been deliberately cast on it?”
That got a skeptical look. “Only because you’re the one saying it, Princess. But…" The yarn spun in Twilight's magical grip. "I’m guessing the key word there is ‘deliberately’?”
“You’re on the right track, Twilight." The temptation to shout the answer from the castle's tallest tower has strong, but still negligible when compared to the cupcakes' siren song. "Consider it a fun riddle to keep you occupied during the holiday break. When you’re not enjoying the season otherwise, of course.”
“Of course.” Twilight's eyes darted about in her desperation to avoid obsessing over the mystery. Celestia tempered her enthusiasm, but it only grew when she saw which distraction her student went with. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Spike!”
The hatchling beamed. “Thanks, Twilight!” He eagerly donned the bow tie. (Why a bow tie? Who was Celestia to fathom the whims of Harmony?) “How’s it look?”
“Splendid,” said Celestia, her heart aglow with more hope than she’d felt in years.