There Is Love Beyond What Lingers

by shortskirtsandexplosions

Rating: everyone
Tags: Pinkie Pie, Slice of Life, Sad, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 11769

Two ponies meet on Hearth's Warming Eve and learn that, when it comes to friendship, there is no such thing as accidents.

A pony returns to Ponyville on Hearth's Warming Eve. Amidst the snow and festivities, he runs into a curious mare wallowing by her lonesome, and he does his best to cheer her up. Together, both ponies learn that no chance meeting is ever an accident, for there is love beyond what lingers.

Published 2013-12-24 06:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-24 06:00:02 UTC

Worth Something

When I got off the train on that cold Hearth's Warming Eve, it was the flurry of memories that chilled me more than the snow. Beyond the vapors of my own panting breaths, I stared at Ponyville's golden-thatched rooftops, and somehow I was shocked to see that they looked absolutely the same as they did in my childhood. Almost instantly, warm sensations rushed to my heart, laced with merriment and laughter and all of the wonderful things I had spent nearly fifteen years forgetting. Then, in a blink, the frost of the moment returned, and there I stood with bulging saddlebags, a twenty-five year old stallion at a train station layered with snow.

I was almost grateful for the shivers when they returned.

On either side of me, I heard shouts and giggles and happy sobs as waiting families reunited with loved ones. Our train had been delayed by about twelve hours, and some ponies feared that they wouldn't return in time to spend the remaining daylight with their mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, best friends and lost loves.

I trotted alone, gazing occasionally at them all, stealing glances of the laughing muzzles and tearful smiles. Little foals bundled in sweaters and shawls giggled as they were lifted by their parents into the nuzzling embrace of grandfathers, grandmothers, aunts and uncles. It was like something out of an old-fashioned novel, really, or one of those paintings one might flip past in an antique holiday catalog. One relatively large family actually burst into song, and soon the whole depot was being serenaded by a spontaneous carol, recounting the power of friendship and equine unity bringing warmth to the hearts of all. The song worked then just as it did thousands of years ago, and the entire station broke into applause by the time it was over. While everypony laughed and cheered, I gave a little clap on the edge of the platform, and then trotted by myself onto the snowy path leading into the heart of town.

The buildings of Ponyville softly devoured me, with their ornate wooden faces, their creakily dangling guild signs and their brightly-lit frosted windows full of toys, wreathes, and layers upon layers of freshly baked candied sweets. The smell of gingerbread and burning fireplaces lit the air, melting most of the snowflakes before they could even reach the ground. This was a good thing, for it meant that the earth wasn't too slippery for foals at play. There were dozens upon dozens of them: a veritable sea of children scampering and chasing each other around me. Their parents looked on, chuckling with merriment before returning to some sort of avid conversation or another with the neighbors standing by their sides. Everypony was bundled up, wearing layers upon layers of brightly-colored woolen articles, as if afraid that windigoes had somehow returned and nopony would survive the night. I looked practically naked compared to these residents, with my lone sweat-jacket and wintry cap. Even the material of my saddlebags was thin, and I felt a chill with each slow step I took. I didn't mind it in the least; it was the sights and sounds around me that warmed my body to the core.

The closer I approached the heart of town, the thicker the droves of ponies gathered. For the life of me, I couldn't remember Ponyville ever having this many equines. I began to wonder if the town was simply some sort of central hub of forgotten importance, and only for this one night in the entire year did all of the families of Equestria converge in one place at one time.

I had to admit, having so many ponies around brought me an undeniable feeling of comfort. I felt invisible... and yet precious all at once. I allowed my mind to drift as much as my heart, and soon the reason for why I was there floated off in the frigid breeze, carried away by the music played by band ponies on the front steps of Town Hall. Here, the crowd was the thickest, with most of them gathered by an immense green stalk: the Hearth's Warming Tree. Once I had arrived in the center of town, my eyes wondered up, up, up its bouncing boughs. Ornaments of silver and gold flickered in the lazy light of the dwindling afternoon, and I heard a rising gasp from the crowd, followed by thunderous applause, as the first of the twelve candles were lit. A unicorn was performing the ritual, utilizing magic to contain the blaze as it illuminated the very bottom branches of the tree.

That's how I knew that I had arrived with time to spare.

I made my way towards the north end of town. I passed by wooden stands and vendors where traditional games were being held: Princess Platinum Ring Toss, Commander Hurricane's Target Practice, Smart Cookie's Maze. The last one always confused me, even as a kid. I could never imagine how ponies of olde once thought it'd be a fun activity to make a tiny labyrinth out of cornstalks, and then expect foals to run through it in the winter time. Still, I could see that the Ponyvilleans had a way of making do; it was an activity that parents usually accompanied their young, young foals with. I figured that some forms of entertainment depended more on tradition than sense.

Nor was I much of a fan of the annual Chancellor Puddinghead Baking Competition. I could smell the tent from a block away, and glancing over I could see several ponies—both young and old—lined up beneath the torchlit canvas flaps as they awaited the fancily dressed judges to rate their cakes, fritters, pies, and strudels. Every now and then, rounds of cheers and applause would ring forth from the place. Ponies along the fringes of the event who had nothing to do with the competition clapped and whistled as if they were somehow related to the equines who had won. It was stupid and silly... and it brought a smile to my face.

Before the end of the hour, I had found a diner on the edge of town. I had expected it to be rather empty, but instead the place was positively packed. I had to wait over thirty minutes for the roasted flower-and-chestnut mix that I had ordered, and I was forced to sit on the snow-covered patio while I ate. But I wasn't even remotely bothered. I sat, reclined in a wooden chair with my saddlebag slumped at my side, watching the western horizon as the sun slipped off to give way the night. Once my meal was finished, I continued sitting there, enchanted by the stars that peaked through the darkening veil to spy on this most festive of events below. One by one, unicorns and earth ponies on platform horseshoes marched by, lighting the street lamps. Block after block, the town lit up, spreading a dim amber glow like a living oil painting. The excitement mellowed a bit, though it didn't outright dwindle. Instead of scampering around, children trotted closely by their parents. Instead of bellowing with laughter, neighbors chuckled breathily and hummed tunes of olde.

It wasn't until I spotted a parade of foals dressed in little patched "rags" and suits of "armor" that I decided to move from where I sat. At a leisurely pace, I followed the motley chain of youngsters and their parents. I chuckled heartily when a mother galloped past me in the street, frantically rushing to get a regally dressed little unicorn to her destination on time. Once I returned to the center of town, I could see most of the children being funneled to a door located in the back of Town Hall. The crowd was at its thickest here, and every voice was chanting one carol after another, causing the shop windows and lantern cases around us to vibrate like champagne glasses.

I looked once again at the Hearth's Warming Tree. At this point, three out of the twelve candles had been lit up the length of it. I still had time.

So I found a lone spot in the shadow of a book store that had been closed for business for the day. I sat down, loosened my saddlebag, and simply... drank in the moment. The air was fragrant with dozens of perfumes and colognes. It was the most magical night of the year, and every mother and father, teenager and elder, farmer and clerk wanted to smell the best, look the best, and sound the best. And yet, there was no competition. The celebration was for everypony. Joy was not something to be hoarded or kept under a rock. These ponies of Ponyville wanted each other to cherish the moment—and cherish it they did, with hooves locked with one another and faces nuzzling and smiles lighting the night sky up brighter than any Hearth's Warming candle.

Unity, as always, was a magical thing. Even still, I felt immensely comfortable sitting outside the outermost layer of it, safe within the shadows, comfortable to simply hum the age-old songs rather than outright sing them.

It was the most that I deserved, after all...

As one can imagine, it was with great shock that I realized that I wasn't the only pony doing this. I didn't notice her at first. Part of the reason was because she probably didn't want to be noticed. Beyond that, it was simply the fall of night and my eyes having to accumulate to the dimness. Only after several bleary moments was I allowed to notice her emerging from the shadows no less than ten feet to my left. She was still as a statue, and when she breathed, I realized that she was the one responsible for the low whining sound that I had been hearing from the background for a good forty minutes.

I couldn't help it. I turned and looked her way. All I saw was a muzzle—a frowning muzzle, peaking out from the folds of a black cloak's hood. It wasn't a frown of anger or discontent, but something far softer... and colder. I had tasted of that flavor before, something deeper than melancholy, something normally shared with the shadows of an empty home, or the dusty edges of an unkempt mirror in some place long forsaken.

She was gazing forward, and yet she wasn't. I followed the angle of her hidden eyes, and somehow I knew that they were piercing through the crowd, not even twitching at the sight of the merry ponies, the Hearth's Warming lights, or the occasional late foal being hurriedly ushered in costume to the back of Town Hall.

I should have left her alone. Normally, I would have. If I was back in Canterlot, I most certainly wouldn't have said anything—I probably wouldn't have even seen her. I would have just brushed past her shadow on hurrying hooves, shuffling my way up the apartment stairs until I entered my flat like a shivering roach and shut away all the light of living.

But something urged my tongue to move. Perhaps it was the same thing that had warmed my heart the very moment that I stepped off the train two hours earlier. I had returned to a town that was unexpectedly alive with dance and song, and she was the only other pony besides me who wasn't moving. I had to find out why... at least before I found what I had journeyed back home to resolve.

"It never fails, does it?" I said. The deepness of my voice somewhat startled me; it was a foal's sobbing breath that the walls of this town last echoed. "They're given all the time in the world to prepare, and still they all rush in at the last second." I smiled, even though I knew she couldn't see it.

She said nothing, but her muzzle wriggled slightly. Her face pivoted about an inch and a half towards me. She didn't have to spell it out, but somehow I knew she was begging for clarification.

So I gave it. "The foals." I pointed at the rear doors to Town Hall opening and closing once more for yet another waddling straggler. "At this rate, we'll only have half the Founders of Equestria on stage." I chuckled again, more forcibly this time, as if trying to prove to myself that the gesture was real. "I almost think they should do it like in Canterlot: only have the adults perform."

Silence—which was a slightly bizarre thing to describe our little pocket of shadows on the edge of merry bedlam.

But, sooner than I expected, she had a response to give, and it was a limp, whimpering thing. "Adults shouldn't perform the Founding of Equestria Play." Then, with a second breath, her voice took on a bitter grunt. It knifed at my heart a bit. "It's dull, boring, and nopony has fun."

I scratched my muzzle, feeling how much stubble had built during the trip across country. "Hmmm... Yes, well, at least with adults there's no bumbling around and skipping lines or running into props."

"That's not the point," she grumbled again, then sighed. "Happiness is like an accident. We can try to control it, but it only happens when it wants to." The breath that channeled out of her this time was positively melodic, and somehow I realized that this was a mare who could make song out of sadness. Perhaps she had no choice in the matter. I was enthralled.

I nodded, gazing at the Hearth's Warming Tree. From where we sat, shadowed and lonely, it burned before us like a pillar of fire. It stole my breath away in rising pitch. "Perhaps you are right. But I remember my first Play. Do you remember yours?"

She clenched her muzzle tight and didn't answer. She didn't have to.

"I was a 'Spearpony Number Two In Accompaniment of Commander Hurricane'," I said with unnecessary gravitas. My lips curved. "Ohhhhh I didn't like it one bit. I was barely seven winters old, and I had it in my mind exactly who and what I would be when it came time for my first Founding of Equestria Play. I had even read up in all these little books about the historical event so I could be 'better prepared.'" I rolled my eyes and winked aside. "Okay, so maybe they were all picture books, but hey, I was a little colt and Ponyville didn't have the awesome library then like it does today." I looked forward again. "More than anything, I wanted to be Commander Hurricane. I wanted to be on stage, forcing my way around in wicked cool armor, growling into Princess Platinum's face and insulting Chancellor Puddinghead like the tough pony Hurricane was!"

More silence, though this time there was an underlying hiss to it. I soon realized the sound belonged to my shadowy friend, who was mustering up the courage to break face and make a sincere statement.

"But... b-but Commander Hurricane..." She finally tilted her head all the way to face me, and I saw two blue eyes blinking brightly. "...she was a mare."

I sighed long and hard. "And that's what my mother said, no matter how many times I tried to prove her otherwise." I chuckled again. "I was a persistent little guy. Stupid, but persistent. She met me halfway by agreeing to let me be one of the pegasi. It was really silly." I pointed at my sides with a smirk. "She even made these goofy-looking fake wings out of goose feathers so that I could look the part. They stuck out of my cardboard armor all weird. It was an honest-to-alicorn train wreck."

"That sounds..." She blinked again, letting her gaze sink into the shroud of her cloak. "...horrible."

"Pffft! Maybe for me!" I grinned. "Truth is, Ponyville never really had that many pegasi, at least back in those days, so I was doing the whole Play a favor by filling in a slot on Commander Hurricane's army. It was all good... until one of my wings fell and another pony tripped on it, knocking over the meeting table during the Winter Conference scene." I continued chuckling. I felt my heart melting and freezing all at once.

I had almost forgotten I was even talking to someone until I heard her murmur, "If such awful stuff happened, then why are you laughing about it?"

"Because something you said kind of rang true," I said. "Happiness can be a very accidental thing. Even the stupidest, most freakish of accidents." I turned towards her with a calm smile. "But, to this day, when I look back at that event, and I remember all of the grins it brought to the parents... including mine." I took a deep breath and slowly shook my head. "No, I can't call it all a horrible thing. It's gone beyond something happy. Something that keeps me warm at night. Something that makes me feel like I once belonged somewhere... and will belong somewhere again."

Her body was rising and falling slowly now, and I surmised that she had been holding her breath behind a locked frown long before this "conversation" had even started. Perhaps that's what brought the cold back to her body, for suddenly she was shivering like a newborn foal beneath her cloak.

"You freezing over there?" I had asked it before even thinking. "If I may say so, you're practically wearing nothing in the middle of winter."

"It's... j-just something I th-threw together," she stammered.

"Pfft. No kidding." A thought suddenly occurred to me. I reached for my saddlebag, hesitated slightly, then finally unzipped the thing, tilting it away from her hooded sight. I reached my hoof in deep, brushed past some fibrous strands, and finally grasped what I was looking for. Pulling my forelimb out, I grasped a ruby stone in the crook of my hoof. "Here." I tossed it her way.

She gasped, flinched, but still caught it in a pair of agile forelimbs. Despite her mellow demeanor, I could tell there existed a pony beneath that cloak who was quick on her hooves.

"Breathe on it." I said with a calm smile. "It won't hurt you."

Pensively, she leaned in and did just that. As soon as her breathy vapors coalesced over the stone, the rock lit up with a bright strobe. She gasped, her blue eyes reflecting the ruby aura. "It's... it's warm!"

"High Mountain Light Stone," I explained. "I have another one like it. They come pre-enchanted. Call it a bonus for living in a city with so many unicorns." I shuffled over a bit and pointed directly at the thing. "Just keep breathing on it, and it'll not only light your path, but warm you as well."

"I see..." She nodded slightly, clutching the thing close to her robed body. "Thanks..." Her shivers lessened.

"Hey, don't mention it."

We sat with the shadows, staring out at the lights, warmed by the lone glow between us.

"So..." Her voice rose in pitch, and I heard a sample of that melody once again. "You're from Canterlot?"

"Eh..." I adjusted the wintry cap on my head and shrugged. "More or less."

"Well, are you or aren't you?"

"I keep an apartment there," I said with a soft breath, then bequeathed the crowded town square before us a thousand-mile stare. "Not sure I can say the same about my heart."

"What are you doing here in Ponyville of all places?"

"Oh, I..." I leaned back against the wall behind us with a sigh. "I came to see my parents."

"Your Mom and Dad?" She loosened her robe some so that she could more easily grasp the glowing stone. In so doing, I saw a razor-straight mane draped from her skull, glinting with the enchanted rock's light. "So, they live here?"

"Oh, they're here alright," I muttered. "It's been a long time since I've seen them."

"Why aren't you with them right now?"

I smirked. "I'll be joining them soon, but later. Right now..." I stretched my legs somewhat. "I'm just happy to sit back and enjoy the moment."

"But the Play will be starting soon." She looked at me, and in the contrast of her blue eyes I saw how strikingly bright her coat was. Purple? Vioilet? Red? She squeaked into the shadows between us, "It's Hearth's Warming Eve. Shouldn't you be with them now? It's tradition!"

"Tradition has a certain... staleness to it," I said. "I find it much better to take things in stride, to let good moments determine themselves. After all, we never know many we ever have left."

"Have what left?"

"Moments," I blurted. "A lot of times they fly by faster than we want them to." With a sigh, I brushed a speck of dust or two from the ground below. "In Canterlot, they practically rocketed by."

She didn't respond to this, and for a moment I wondered if I had inadvertently lost her. I looked up, only to see that she was not only still by my side, but she was practically leaning into my body. At first, my imagination went to horribly wild places, but then it occurred to me that she was cowering. She had folded the cloak back over herself so tight that none of the light from the stone could get out.

Before I could drown in too much confusion, I heard frantic hooves breaking through the caroling crowd like errant percussion. Looking up, I spotted a unicorn galloping out into the middle of the street, pausing to look around. Only, it wasn't a unicorn. My breath left me as I saw lavender feathers sticking out from her immaculate sides. The alicorn stood breathless in the street, glancing all around, looking pale. Not long after, four more equines scampered towards her side—all mares. A conversation lit up above the group. The Hearth's Warming lights illuminated grimacing muzzles, worried faces, and even a teary eye or two.

I tried listening in, but all I got were fragments and whimpers.

"...have sworn she'd be here..."

"...not like her..."

"...all our fault! We should have paid more..."

"...hurt her feelings so much! If only she would have..."

"...fan out and look down every street! We have to..."

"...right after we apologize for..."

"...just start looking already! Jeez!"

The last voice cracked from a disgruntled looking pegasus who took to the skies in a vicious blue blur. The rest of the party split apart, their vaporous breaths dissipating in the air just as swiftly as they did.

I blinked, then felt the body beside me instantly stirring. I looked down to spot the mare removing her hood, craning her neck as if to see if the coast was clear. A breath of relief fountained out of her, inadvertently causing the stone in her grasp to shine brighter than ever. It illuminated the undeniable pink hue of her coat, tainted with an embarrassed blush as she smoothed her mane back out and muttered aside, "Sorry."

"For what?"

"For... for..." She sighed and hugged her body, curling into a foalish squat. "...for everything," she whimpered.

I scratched my head beneath my cap and smirked. "Well, that's rather vague, don'tcha think?"

She bit her lip and said nothing.

I looked back out at the crowd, then at her. "What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Mmmmm..." She sighed, which—at that point—had to have been a sigh-within-a-sigh. I was pretty impressed, actually. "Pinkamena."

"Nice to meet you," I said with a nod. "Why aren't you with your loved ones, Pinkamena?"

She winced, then looked at me. From the expression that reflected off her eyes, we could both tell that there was no longer anything to hide from. So, with a deflated shrug of the shoulders, she muttered, "You saw them, didn't you?"

"The important part is that they didn't see us." I raised an eyebrow. "Am I right?"

"I guess..."

"They seem to be very concerned about you."

"I don't see why they should be," she muttered. "I... I hurt their feelings big time this morning."

I blinked at that. I gazed out at the town square where the five mares' hoofprints were still visible in the snow between the gathered ponies. "You're absolutely sure that's the way it went down?"

"Look, I said I hurt them and that's what I did, alright?!" Once more, her voice had a knifing edge to it. Her mane hair swung like a lance, and I was sure it would decapitate me with minimal effort. However, she instantly wilted and slumped down until her muzzle dug into the folds of her cloak. "Really, though? I... I don't understand what happened."

I squatted down a little further myself. "Well, maybe talking about it would help you figure it out better."

"No use," she grunted. "I'm a dumb pony."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Now who in Equestria ever said that, Miss Pinkamena?"

"Well... nopony," she remarked. "And yet..." Again, the edge of a melody. "...everypony does, without ever having to say it out loud."

"What makes you think that's true?"

"Just 'cuz." She played with some powdery snow, brushing them from side to side with the tips of her hooves. "All I'm ever good for is throwing them parties and baking cakes and celebrating their birthdays."

I gave her a cockeyed glance. "And you think there are ponies who don't like you for this?" I propped my smirking chin on a hoof. "Seems like you're the life of the party."

"But most ponies I know don't wanna party all the time!" she growled. "Which... I simply don't get." Her sad eyes swam my way after the brief spell of anger was over. "Don't ponies wanna have fun? Don't ponies wanna celebrate living every chance that they get?"

I nodded thoughtfully. It took me a few seconds, but I eventually said, "Sometimes you can't force celebration on a pony, Pinkamena. You gotta let enjoyment come to them on their own time."

"Yeah... I guess." She looked at the Hearth's Warming Tree and for a brief moment her eyes sparkled like sapphires. "I was sooooo looking forward to this year's Hearth's Warming. Tomorrow morning, I had wanted to throw the mother of all holiday celebrations for my friends. There's this place where ponies come to dine and have parties—Sugarcube Corner—which is also where I live. And I was gonna have tables full of sweets and cinnamon swirls and cherry pies and you name it. And... and I went door to door this morning, trying to find them so that I could invite them over. And... I-I found them at one of my friend's place, a library where she lives and does research. And they were all together. And I asked them and... and..."

I slowly nodded. "Guessing they weren't in the partying mood."

"They all had places to be and things to do. Probably with their families, I guess, which makes a whole lot of sense. I-I should have realized this, but I had waited until the last second to invite them. I didn't even think twice about the fact that they must have had plans. It's j-just that I was so busy preparing and baking and setting things up! I never even bothered with inviting them before the party was prepared. Looking back, it all seems so silly, to realize that I overlooked it, I mean. But..." She sighed. "I'm just a dumb pony, I guess."

I shook my head. "Excited, enthusiastic, friendly—perhaps—but hardly dumb."

"Pffft. You're just saying that," she muttered with a frown. "Just like my friends are always saying nice things around me."

"What, to be nice to you?"

"To keep me in my place, is more like it," Pinkamena grumbled. "Well, they certainly weren't 'nice' today. Not even Fluttershy. I made them all mad, you see. I guess I was being a little too in-your-face about the Hearth's Warming Morning Celebration Party Extravaganza Thingy. And then it was Dashie—my pegasus friend—who put it all out in the open." She winced, then whimpered forth, "She said... 'Not all celebrations have to revolve around you, Pinkie.' And... and that's when... when..."

"Lemme guess..." I leaned my head to the side. "You ran out on them?"

She sniffled and nodded, her eyes closed.

"Well, one thing's for sure." I said with a shrug. "This 'Dashie' could have articulated herself better."

"No. She didn't have to." Pinkamena's eyes reopened, and a tear trickled down. "She put it the best way she ever could have. Because it's true." She looked up at me, lips quivering. "I always need to have a celebration centered around me. It... it just doesn't feel right if I'm not the one responsible for throwing the party."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it's true! Tr-true for me, at least." She sniffled and ran a hoof across her cheek, drying it. "You see, where I come from, there were no smiles. There was no celebrating. My family shoved rocks around a big, boring, open field and pretended to make a living off of it. But living and loving are too different things. Everypony in my house thought that everything was okay, but deep in my heart, I knew that it wasn't. And it was just so... so sad." She curled her face up against her forelimbs and shuddered. "And I hate being sad..."

"What changed?"

She instantly blinked up at me.

"I mean..." I smiled hopefully. "Things did change, right?"

She slowly nodded. "I guess. I mean, well, yes... but only because I made them change. I threw parties at the drop of a hat. I got my sisters to sing." She chuckled briefly, and a curve formed to her lips for the first time since I saw her. "I even got my Mom and Dad to dance. As the months went by, I threw pranks that startled them... that broke up the routine. But instead of being mad, they were really thankful for the excitement. There was laughter in our hallways. Our house, our barn, our silo—everything started having color. I don't think we realized how much we were missing until I—the youngest in the family—started doing something to paint it all pretty n'stuff." She suddenly winced, and that smile vanished. "But... but then when I came to Ponyville..."

"...it didn't work as well as it did in your hometown?" I asked.

"Oh, it worked. Just... n-not all of the time," Pinkamena said. "The ponies around here like having me around." She chuckled suddenly, her eyes glazed. "Heh... they love being around me."

"Then what's the problem?"

She bit her lip. "The problem is, it keeps getting harder and harder to entertain the ones I love. At least, I swear, that's the way it feels. There are even times when... wh-when I try so hard, that... that I overlook stuff, and I forget that while trying to be happy, it's also an important thing to be thoughtful too. But instead, I end up making mistakes... and even making ponies mad, like the friends I care about..."

"...and like what happened today."

She nodded, sniffling again. She breathed a weak "Yes."

The carolers in the distance switched songs. I had almost forgotten that this entire moment was being serenaded. It seemed like we were both in another world, a dark place where somepony's spirit had to be illuminated, much like an enchanted stone in the midst of shadows.

"Well, Miss Pinkamena, if I may say so, the answer here seems rather simple." I sat up straight and smirked at her. "I get the feeling that you've been trying too hard."

She sat up across from me, her face scrunched up and curious. "How do you mean?"

"Have you ever thought of... y'know..." I shrugged. "Not celebrating anything for one day?"

"Oh no! I-I couldn't!" She clutched at the folds of her robe. "I-I wouldn't! Who knows what would happen if I—"

"What?" I squinted at her. "Stopped being the host of the party for one moment in your life? That's an exhausting way to go about every single day. It'd take its toll on the best of us."

"But... b-but my friends..."

"If they're truly your friends, then I suspect they enjoy you simply for you being you, Miss Pinkamena. Parties, celebrations, get-togethers... they're all just... j-just fringe benefits of sincere companionship."

"I swear, sometimes I think they only laugh and smile when they're around me just because they wanna keep me quiet!" She folded her forelimbs with a furious pout. "Quiet in my ignorance of how annoying I really am to them!"

"Really?" I smirked. "Then how come they looked so concerned when they came rushing by earlier, looking for you?"

She blinked, her mouth hanging agape. "They... I mean..." She bit her lip. "You got a good look at them, huh?"

I nodded. "And I heard them too. They're worried about you, Miss Pinkamena. Sure, they may have been angry before, but ponies are ponies and ponies make mistakes. It's obvious to me that they've forgiven you and want to know that you're safe. Couldn't you forgive them as well?"

"Well... uhm... of c-course! They're my friends... but..."

"The alicorn in particular looked on the verge of tears."

Pinkamena gasped, clutching her muzzle. "Twilight?! Crying?!" She squeaked. "Over m-me?"

I felt my lips pursing. "Wait... Twilight? As in... Princess Tw—?"

"Mmmmm..." Pinkamena deflated again. "It doesn't matter. Even if they do accept me with open hooves, I'll only switch back and end up annoying them to anger yet again."

"What do you mean 'switch back?'"

She sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"What I understand is a pony who deserves to be with the ones she loves on Hearth's Warming Eve," I said. "But is afraid to do so." After a bitter chill, I shrugged cleared my throat and said, "In your case, you don't want to hurt your friends, which—if you ask me—is a silly notion."

"Pffft. It's not fear," she grunted.

"Then what is it?"

"You... wouldn't understand that either."

Silence.

"Miss Pinkamena..." I stood up, hoisting my saddlebag with me before nudging her in the side. "How would you feel if another pony tried to help you celebrate for a change?"

She looked up, confused. "Huh?"

I smirked. "Perhaps it might lift your spirits?"

"I... I dunno..." Her muzzle twisted. "I guess?"

"Heheheh..." I chuckled and pulled her up by her hoof. "Good enough. Come on!"

"Whoah!" she gasped, stumbling after me as I suddenly galloped us both out of the shadows and into the blissful night of celebration. Song and band music crashed into us like ocean surf. "Wh-where are we going?!"

"Hurry up!" I glanced up at the Hearth's Warming Tree. The fifth candle from the bottom was being lit. "We still have plenty of time!"

"For what?"

"I haven't done any of these since I was a little colt!" I cackled into the starlight.

It took two swings around the bend, and a near-slip on the frosty sidewalk, but I had managed to drag my bleary companion to one of the various stalls along Main Street. The line before the game was short, considering half the town's foals were in costume inside the Town Hall building at this point. The game operator smiled at us. There was something familiar about his face—I figured he was the son of a stallion I once knew in my foalhood. But that wasn't important at the moment. Nothing was important at the moment. Only Pinkamena.

"You know how to play this game!" I exclaimed, handing her a wooden javelin.

She glanced awkwardly at it, then at the mechanically gliding targets in the shape of windigoes at the far end of the gallery. The nearby lamplight cast a vibrant sheen across her otherwise pale pinkness. "You mean... the Commander Hurricane game?"

"Come onnnn!" I leaned back, the looping contents of my saddlebag jostling. "Every foal born in Equestria knows what do to here!" I held the javelin higher in the crook of my hoof. "Don't tell me you were born on a Griffon rock farm!" Then, pivoting, I tossed the spear forward with a slight grunt.

The javelin whistled through the air before embedding in the brightly painted midsection of one ghostly effigy.

"Hah!" I slapped one of my knees and smirked. "Two points!" I turned towards her and smirked, panting heavily. "Celestia, am I out of shape! Still..." I wiped my brow. "Not bad for having put off the game for ten years. Now..." I dusted the snow off my forelimbs. "You try."

"Huh?" Pinkamena blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah, you." I kicked another javelin off the hay-strewn floor and hoofed it to her. "Or, what, have you forgotten how to have fun?"

She frowned, her features like a crumbling mountain. "I have not forgotten how to have fun." Then, with an ineffectual grunt, she tossed the javelin. However, it vastly overshot the target, embedding hard into the wall of the gallery behind the moving effigies. "Unnnngh..." She sighed, slumping down in her wrinkled robe. "See? It's no use. I'm just... not in the mood."

"So what if you missed the first time?" I shrugged. "You're focusing too hard on the game. Just enjoy the moment. If the javelin actually hits..." I kicked another one up and hoofed it to her. "...consider it as a happy accident." I winked.

She squinted crookedly at me. "But... it's your turn! Isn't that the rules?"

"Pffft. Who ever truly followed the rules on Hearth's Warming Eve?" I thrust the spear into her grasp and spun her around. "If that was the case, none of the candy canes would get eaten before morning. Now throw!" I gave her a swift, light kick in the flank.

"Gaaah!" She lunged forward. The spear shout out of her hooves like a bottle-rocket. The resulting impact shook the entire stall, and we both heard the operator whistling in awe. When Pinkamena's eyes refocused, she gasped, and her eyes reflected the sight of a spear wobbling to a stop, its blade stuck deep into the wooden flank of one of the targets.

"Three points! Whew, boyoooo..." I turned towards her with a wicked grin. "Looks like that windigo got the point."

She flashed me a surprised look. She blinked. Her lips parted, parted again, then broke into a spitting snort, followed by rampant giggles that rocked her body so hard that the robe fell off, illuminating three colored balloons that looked ready to lift off her flank and pop joyously into the snowy night.

I was too busy laughing to resist such a silly metaphor from rocketing through my head. We played two more rounds. Javelins flew and wood chips exploded. She earned over five points above me each time. Of course she won. I knew who I was dealing with before I even dragged her out there.

Minutes later, I led her over to the ring toss. We had to wait for two families to play the game before us, during which we spent the time poking fun at the remarkably crude portraits that some amateur had attempted to paint of Princess Platinum.

"It's... it's like a porcupine spelunked down her throat and she ate it," I said.

"Snkkkkkt—Heeheehee!" Pinkamena slumped against the wooden railings, drawing nervous looks from the festive crowd as she fought the urge to laugh, and failed. Her hoof beat against a wooden support beam as her whole body shook.

I smiled even more, tapping her bare shoulder as I pointed. "Look! You can even see the stubble where Princess Platinum forgot to shave this morning!"

"Hauckkkt! Please!" She bowed her head, her once-straight mane frayed at the edges. She waved a hoof in the air as she giggle-snorted. "Stop it! No more! Hehehe—No more! I'm dying!"

"'Forsooth, Clover the Clever, hath thou finally located my missing royal razor?'" I chanted in a high-pitched voice, then switched to a different feminine pitch. "'Judging from yonder jagged lines in thy backside, it looks as if thou hast slept on it overnight, my liege!'"

"Ha ha ha ha!" Pinkamena rocked back and forth on the railing until it suddenly lurched forward with a sickening crunch. She froze like a bright-eyed squirrel in front of a stagecoach. Families gasped and the gamekeeper gave us death glares. Pinkamena only snickered harder, and I joined her.

We managed to get through one game of ring toss before I was certain the ponies there would toss us out. It went on for a stupidly long time, mostly because whenever it was Pinkamena's turn, she kept pausing to wrap the largest ring around her neck and then gaze at me with crossed-eyes.

"Look! I'm Zecora!" She uttered in a deep, deep voice. "Wanna smell my aura?"

I didn't even remotely understand any of that. I laughed anyway.

The night was on fire. We next skipped across town to the Chancellor Puddinghead tent. The baking competition was long over, but that didn't mean there weren't plenty of samples left for the lucky public to dig into. We had tables upon tables full of sweets and creamy delights at our disposal. I daintily nibbled on a cookie or two.

And Pinkamena—she outright plowed into a table full of fruitcakes, all of which instantaneously exploded.

"Luna's Nipple!" I exclaimed, flashing worried looks all around the tent. My heart had stopped, for I wondered if I had inadvertently stumbled upon the town's resident psychopath. "I've heard of digging in, but, Miss Pinkamena..." I winced, glancing over my shoulder. "A tad rich, you think?"

"I'll tell you what's too rich!" she managed to exclaim between muffled mouthfuls. I saw a mountain of strawberry pulp and lemon frosting emerge from the mess and realized to my belated horror that it was her. "The fact that this delicious fruitcake didn't win the Chancellor Puddinghead Competition!" Her voice had taken on a squeaky high-pitch tone, bearing to full glory the melody that I had heard stifled for the whole night up to that point. She ate her way through the mess, exposing a frown that she flashed across the tent. "Bon Bon! For realsies! How could the head taste tester have handed the medal to the cinnamon bagels over this?!"

I heard a mare chuckling and looked over to see her blue and pink mane flouncing over a delicious smile. "Well, we didn't have the best taste-tester in all of Ponyville with us at the time, Pinkie! Heeheehee! We sure did miss you earlier!"

"What a coincidence!" Pinkamena giggle-snorted and jumped off the table, dripping all over with lemon glaze. "I missed me too!"

"Miss Pinkamena..." I chuckled, lost somewhere between fear and felicity. "Are you... okay?"

"Okay?! Okay? I'm dripping all over in frosting! How could I not be okay?!" She did a backflip, shaking off most of the copious cream. "It's like my eighteenth birthday all over again! Heeheehee!"

"Well, in that case, perhaps—"

She was somehow on the other side of me, gasping so deeply in my ear that I thought she was having a heart attack. "I knowwww!" She gripped my forelimb. "Smart Cookie!"

"Huh? You m-mean the maze?"

"Come on come on come onnnnn!" This time, she was the one tugging me. Helpless, I chuckled as I stumbled after her across the frost and lights, lights, lights.

We paused once so that Pinkamena could join a gaggle of carolers in the final chorus to "We Three Colts," then we left the giggling ponies behind as we bounded our way to the tiny, homely labyrinth.

"Uh, Pinkamena?" I stammered, catching my breath. "I think it's closed!" I turned from the roped entrance and glanced towards the center of town. From afar, I could see that the tenth candle was being lit. "The Play is starting soon. Looks like everypony's headed to Town Hall—"

"But we're not!" She bounced, flounced. Her mane was a tangled, crazy, fluffy mess of pink. I loved it, but not as much as she did. "Here!" She tugged once more, forcing the two of us to bounce over the rope. I steadied into a gentle trot, but she didn't. Her bounce never stopped, but instead kept going and going and going... as if it was her natural way of moving, living, laughing. "I know a secret to beating the maaaaaaze! Heeheehee!"

"You know, M-Miss Pinkamena..." I struggled to keep up with her. "I gotta confess..." The maze was obviously built for little foals, and the two of us could nearly see over the ears of corn swaying in the snowy breeze. "I was never the biggest fan of this game, even as a young colt." Still, it was a difficult feat trying not to bump into the wall-thick stalks on either side of us. "I guess I just never understood it."

"Then I guess the key is finding a way to make it fun for you!" Pinkamena said, a fluffy pink cloud that was jumping just at the edge of every vegetable corner beyond sight.

"Like how?" I asked, though I was starting to lose track of her. "Miss Pinkamena?!" Again, her bouncy figure had eluded my sight. I grumbled slightly. "You said you wanted to show me a secret to getting out of this maze!" I bumped into cornrow after cornrow, stumbling in circles. "Now what is it?!"

"You really wanna know?"

I turned around, startled by her face in my face. "Uhm... I guess?"

"Heehee..." She licked her lips and grabbed onto my side. "You beat it... like this!" She thrust the two of us forward.

"Whoah—"

We went bursting through the ears of corn like twin cannonballs. I expected us to collapse into a wall or a window or something painful, but instead we burst out onto an open hill of downy snow. We rolled down, kicking up white powder and frosted flakes along the way. I heard a pony screaming, and it sounded like me, but I couldn't hear it through Pinkamena's incessant giggles.

When we finally came to a stop, it was in a street lined with gasping carolers. They looked at us, and we looked at them. Suddenly, Pinkamena wasn't the only pony laughing. The air was ripe with hysteria. I forgot that it was even cold.

"See?" Pinkamena squee'd. "Best. Secret. Everrrrrr!" She flailed her forelimbs from the ditch of snow her body had made and thrust her grin towards me. "Wanna do it again?!"

"Miss Pinkamena, honestly!" I tried to sound serious. I heard my saddlebag unzipping halfway and rushed to shut it back up with a gasp. Clearing my throat, I glared at her. "We could have been hurt!"

"But we weren't, were we?"

"Even still, accidents happen!"

"Yeah!" She nod-nod-nodded. "And so does fun, right?"

"Yeah, but—" I briefly went wall-eyed, judging by the world splitting down the center of my vision to allow the arrow of truth into my brain. "Unnnngh..." I ran a hoof over my chuckling face. My sides were splitting. "You got me there."

"I sure did!" She tossed her ruined fluffy mane and knocked on her own skill. "My friends like to call it 'Pinkie Sense!'"

"Oh yeah?" I smirked at her. "Well, if you can sense things so well, how come you can't see the mare covered in snow?"

"Mare covered in snow?!" She gasped and flashed a look towards the distance. "Where?" A snowball slammed into the back of her skull. Wide-eyed, she spun towards me again.

"Heheheh..." I chuckled, juggling another frosty clump in my hoof. "Perhaps you really are blind."

"Oh yeah?" She licked her lips and gathered two monumental heaps of snow in opposite hooves. "Better blind than deaf!" Then, with a howling shriek, she leapt towards me.

"Whoah whoah whoah—Wait!" My protest fell on deaf ears—my own, for she smooshed both mountains of snow on either side of my skull. We went rolling through the powdery bank in a mess of limbs and smiles, and only after the third tumble did I shake my head hard enough to hear how explosive her laughter was. I freed a hoof just in time to shovel a clump of snow and thrust it deep into her mane, where it melted against her sensitive scalp.

"Aaaaack!" Her eyes rolled back as she grasped at her own head. "Cold! Colllllld!" This distracted her long enough for me to kick her into a snowbank. She used the momentum to topple over it and employ the small hill as a barricade, upon which she scooped up more ammunition and launched it my way. "Take this! And that! And an extra special dosage of this when the tummy hurts!"

"Gaaah! Hold up! Not so fast!" I winced, being pelted and pelted and pelted no matter how swiftly I tried to outstrafe her barrage. "Celestia on a bike! How can a pony throw so much at once?!"

"What's that?!" She sing-songed from across the battlefield. "Do you surrender?!"

"Fine—" I opened my mouth long enough to gag on a snowball landing in my mouth. I spat out grass and icicles. "For goodnetth' thake! I yield! I frickin' yield!"

"Hooooray!" She bounced-bounced-bounced from around the bank and practically tackled me. "Snuggle the enemy!"

"Oh jeez—!" I felt the wind knocked out of me. Wheezing, my world refocused so that I saw the Hearth's Warming Tree rising in the distance like dragon's fire. Soon, Pinkamena's face loomed before it, like a sweet sweet shadow. Her smile was just as delicious, calming down, rising the crest of ecstasy and mirth.

"Wow, you really are out of shape," she giggle-snorted.

"Takes one to know one," I said.

She blinked at that, then sighed, though the exhale was laced with fruitcake glaze. She sat beside me in the snow, her breaths lulling to a gentle rush. The smile never dwindled; in fact her teeth glimmered with the lights all around us.

"I was doing pretty badly for a while there, wasn't I?" she muttered. Even when grumbling, her voice was melodic, like a song that refused to die. "I can't believe how... h-how much of a downer I can get."

"Whelp..." I sat up, shaking the flakes of snow off my winter's cap and shoulders. "I can't pretend to know how you live your life, Miss Pinkamena, but I for one like to party seldomly. After all..." I shifted until I squatted on folded legs. "...if I partied all the time, then that'd make the moments when... y'know... I crash to be rather dire. Don't you think?"

She winced, and her ears folded slightly. "I... I don't know how else to live." She gulped. "Especially when I'm around my friends. When I'm not trying so hard to make every moment a happy one, I feel like I-I'm not being me, y'know?"

"I think it's just like with the javelin and the target," I said, smirking. "You really shouldn't try to force it. Just let the moments happen... the way they happen. Hmm?"

"But... but..." She bit her lip. "What if I lose my stride? What if..." She sighed and pulled at her fluffy mane, stretching it until it almost resembled the straightness that I had seen upon the depressed ghost earlier. "What if I 'crash' more often because of it? I just hate being like that. Where all I want is to sit in shadows and be alone." Her eyes moistened slightly. "It's such a dull, sad, lingering place to be. And yet I find myself going there over and over again. I can hardly control it these days."

I gazed at her softly, at the snowy air christening her joyously bright coat. "There is love beyond what lingers, Pinkamena." I smiled. "Why are ponies lost... unless they are meant to be found?" I rested a hoof on her shoulder. "You have friends. You have a home. You have love. Even if you can't pull yourself out of the shadows at times, I know that the ponies you care for can. Stop obsessing all the time about 'fun' and instead put some stock in faith for a change. I think you'll find that one can't exist without the other." I added a wink to the end of that.

Pinkamena let go of her mane. She sniffled once, then looked at me. After a momentary pause, she giggled and leapt my way.

I winced, but nevertheless fell victim to her embrace. She hugged me closely, and I was surprised at how warm it felt when she softly nuzzled my neck.

"Thank you," her heart sang through her throat. "You're the best accident that ever happened to me."

I stared into the darkness beyond night, anchored there to her heartbeat against my chest. When I first tried to speak, I felt like there were needles in my throat. I had to cough to the side before patting her back and replying. "And thank you, Pinkamena, for the best Hearth's Warming Eve I could ever ask for."

After that, we both sat up, sharing a starlit stare in one snowy blink of time. That's when I noticed her ears twitching, and from the distance a raspy voice cried.

"Hey! It's her! I see her!" My eyes darted towards a blue speck in the air above the rooftops, trailing with color. "Pinkie Pie! Stay right where you are! Don't go anywhere!" The pegasus spun about and called towards the far end of the block. "Twilight! AJ! Come on, you guys! I found her! Over here!"

Pinkie bounced in place, her tail wagging like an oversized canine's.

I looked at it, chuckled, then glanced at her. "Guess there's no point in hiding now."

"Nope." She grinned. "And no need to." A blink or two, and she gasped. "Hey!" She turned around. "You should come with! I could introduce you to my friends and—"

I was already waving a hoof in front of her. "Pinkamena..." I smiled gently. "Right now, I think you and your friends need each other and nopony else. I've had a delightful evening, but the rest of the night belongs to you and them."

Her eyes curved, and her lips hung open. "But... but..."

"It's Hearth's Warming Eve." I suppressed a warm chuckle as I stood up on aching limbs. "You need to be with them. And... I think... they really need to be with you."

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess so." She nodded. Gulping, she smiled weakly. "And you need to go be with your parents, huh?"

A breath escaped me. I felt the warmth leaving my cheeks as I nodded and raspily replied, "Yeah. I think n-now's about time that I go to them."

"Well, I think they'll be super-duper happy for having the best son in the world home for the holidays."

"Heh... yeah, well..." I adjusted the straps of my saddlebag and shrugged. "We'll be together." A shuddering breath. "Now go on." I nudged her towards a cluster of gasping mares who were congregating just then beneath the hovering pegasus. "Give 'em a reason to stop worrying, eh?"

She nodded and trotted off—but suddenly froze in her tracks. "But, you know..." She turned around, grinning. "If ever you wanna hang out sometime, or if you really need a friend, just come see me, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"I'll be in Sugarcube Corner!" The statement was as proud as it was bouncy. She smiled so hard that her eyes had to close shut to make room for her dimples. "You can't miss it! It's the big, scrumptious looking building shaped like a giant gingerbread sundae with frosted cupcakes on top!"

"Heh..." I chuckled breathily. "I doubt I can get that image out of my head..."

"Because, y'know, I'm not the only pony who deserves love."

I stared silently at her.

She looked left, looked right, then smiled past me. "Anyways! Bye!" Pinkamena hopped around and bounced towards the nearby streetcorner, landing in the hooves of her friends. At first it looked like they were tackling her, they were hugging the mare so hard. As I watched from a distance, my ears could once again make out fragments of words, this time elated.

"...plum worried about you..."

"...so sorry for what we said..."

"...just wanted to know you were alright..."

"...don't run off on us again like that, darling..."

"...would we be without you, Pinkie Pie?"

I watched them quietly, until my attention was shattered by the ringing of a loud bell. The noise rolled against every building, shaking snow off a few rooftops. I looked towards the center of town. The twelfth and final candle of the Hearth's Warming Tree was being lit, and the entire populace of town was filing inside the Town Hall building to watch the traditional Founding of Equestria Play.

Slowly, layer by layer, the bustling, laughing, caroling ponies of Ponyville trotted past the majestic tree and disappeared into the Hall, until the entire streets of town were evacuated, just like the breath from my lungs.

My body reeled. I tried to inhale. I swiveled about, glancing at the streetcorner.

Pinkamena and her companions were gone, leaving only hoofprints and flakes of snow in their wake. I was alone with the lights and cold, just as I was meant to be, just as I came to Ponyville to be. I coughed once, twice. The sound produced a phantom echo against the vast silence that had washed over the town, like the emptiness of the universe had swallowed all life but mine, a starving meal at best.

Slowly, with the grace of a melting candle, I turned around and strolled towards the far end of town. I walked past flickering lights, past ornaments dangling off of lampposts, past the shop fronts and their glazed windows full of festive sweaters and bright sleds and intricate train sets on display for nopony to see. My shadow accompanied me down back alleyways laced with frost and soot and the lonely shadows of age. If it weren't for the vapors exiting out of my muzzle, I would have thought all warmth was gone. Every now and then I would pause by a street corner, feeling the patch of skin along my neck where Pinkamena had last nuzzled me, where she had graced me with something far toastier than I had received in the last ten years piled on top of one another.

I trotted on, away from the lights, away from the decorations and the final vestiges of cheer. I wandered lonely dirt paths that I had only seen in my long nights of fruitless attempts to sleep—dark, restless debacles, all of them, spent deep in the abysmal niche of an apartment built upon granite and apathy. In Canterlot, I sought fortune and distraction, and all I got were ghosts, bathed in solitude and tears.

The world was as dry as a bone by the time I reached the gates along the cold stone wall hugging the west edge of town. No lights reached this part of Ponyville, and none should ever have. I stood there, gazing into the black space beyond the rusted, iron bars. The gates hung ajar, as if they had purposed an entrance for me and me alone. I almost chuckled at the whim of fate, but I knew better. Even still, I muttered aloud.

"If only all accidents could make me smile."

I trotted on through, fumbling to squeeze my way past the gates on account of my bulging saddlebag. At last, I entered the field, and all I had to light my path was the distant deaths of stars. With shuffling hooves, I glided forward. Stones swam past my peripheral, like gray bodies in a black mist. I didn't glance at them; I wasn't looking for them. There was only one place I had to be. The Play had started in the heart of town; nopony would be around for the next two hours. There was very little precious time, but I had made it. We would still be alone for our reunion.

At last, I arrived, and there they both were, waiting for me. They rested beneath a thick oak tree, as strong and as thick as ever. I quietly praised the alicorns that some selfish groundskeeper hadn't spontaneously chosen to chop the thing down. It would have ruined this moment; it would have ruined everything.

Quietly, I disrobed my saddlebag and shuffled down onto my knees. My voice had greater clarity to it than I had expected. "Hello Mom. Hello Dad." They didn't look at me; only their names did, hovering above the years that had claimed them one decade ago. "Like I said I would, I went to Canterlot." I swallowed a lump down my throat; it only made the next few words all the harder to spit out. "And now I'm back. And... and I-I'm alone."

The world sighed above us, full of that distant roar that flooded my ears like a distant tsunami, haunting my days and dreams with every flickering shadow, every darting color that ran away from me, leaving the last ten years stale as death, the only family I had left.

"But... but it's okay..." I smiled. "It's okay because... because after all I've done, after how many times I've failed, after all the..." I gritted my teeth and spat it out, "Worthless mistakes I've ever made... I've gotten wh-what I deserve." I sniffled, but packed it in, like damming blood beneath a gushing wound. "And now we can be alone together." I gulped once more, my eyes wandering earthward. "Just like we were m-meant to be. When... when I lost you." I hissed. "When I lost everything."

I shook. I shuddered. But I remained strong. I had to—this night of all nights—I had to.

"What k-kind of a son would abandon the ones he loves on Hearth's Warming Eve?" I didn't know I was hyperventilating. I didn't want them to suspect anything. "Much less ten of them?" I gritted my teeth. I felt my body shaking, but I directed all the trembles away from the center of my being. "Well, no more. Not another one."

I stood. I took a deep breath. I gazed up.

The tree stretched tall, majestic, like a black citadel over a field of saints. One strip blotted out the stars directly above the two stones. It was a strong branch. The strongest branch.

We enter this world with an anchor and we leave it with one.

With quietly practiced grace, I reached down and unzipped my saddlebag for the last time. I pulled the contents out, my hooves running along the fibrous loops, uncoiling it one foot after another. Finding one end of it, I made a tight knot, then snaked it around the trunk of the tree. I tied it around the knot, fastened it tight, and trotted out until I had the full rest of the length dangling in my hooves. Then, with only two tries, I succeeded in tossing it over the branch, catching it in a wooden fork spreading towards the heavens.

The stars broke with a solid halo, dangling just three feet above them both. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

I was already crawling up one stone, my limbs brushing up against my mother's name. The vapors came out in staccato gunshots, kissing the air with the breaths I had labored over weeks, months, and years of envisioning this night come to pass, after regretting every mistake I had ever made, after struggling under the mounds of weight that I had made with my life: all junk, all worthless, all banal and senseless. Ten years in Canterlot, and what had I done to prove my existence had merit? What career had I launched? What family had I made? What child had I sired upon the twilight of this unfeeling world?

And it wasn't until I had placed one hoof atop the slippery stone that I felt it, like a beam of starlight through the noose. That irritated patch of skin where she nuzzled me, that ghostly bundle of fluff that tickled my nose, that flounced on through the cold and gave me something to invigorate, to spread light where all I knew and felt was darkness.

This was my home. I had planned for this. I had given everything away to row myself down the tributaries of emptiness so that I would wash up here.

And I failed. Of course I failed. With palpitating breaths upon the verge of the abyss, I collapsed, shriveling up like lilies on the grave of my mother.

"Stupid..." I whimpered. "So... so st-stupid..." I cried. "And cowardly..." I gritted my teeth, clutching my forehead with two shivering hooves as I writhed against the granite. "She is different. They are all... different!" I sucked in a breath and vomited it back out with quivering sobs. "There is nothing. You are nothing." I seethed. I melted. I howled into the dirt and dust that was all I knew. "Why must you be so worthless? Why can't you do anything right? Why can't you m-make something of yourself? You coward."

I covered my face entirely. Even in utter blackness, I could see my shame. I couldn't remember a time when it wasn't like this. I wonder if they couldn't either, but I didn't deserve to speak to anyone who could teach me otherwise but myself.

"Stupid, stupid coward!" I was a bawling mess by this point. "There is only nothing for you. You deserve nothing! Why must you be so afraid?" My body had become numb, and all I could feel... all I could see was her bouncing figure, her grinning muzzle, how two lonely eyes in the darkness could bloom color, the most accidental of miracles. "Please... Celestia, Luna, somepony... t-tell me..." I shivered and sighed. "Why am I so afraid...?"

Only silence answered. For the first time in over a decade, I completely understood why.

Six ponies laughed around a table in the center of Sugarcube Corner. Through an open, snow-laden window, their bright manes shimmered under candlelight. They shared jokes and tales of foalhood over steaming cups of hot cocoa.

"But I mean it! Seriously, girls!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed.

"'Seriously?'" Rarity batted her eyelashes. "Why, that's a most unbecoming adverb coming from you, dear!"

"For realsies, guys!" Pinkie Pie bounced in her seat. "I know I wanna have fun all the time, but it doesn't mean I have to, and it doesn't mean I gotta force you guys to either! Just having you around... is fun enough." She smiled with sparkling eyes. "Don't you believe me?"

"We do, Pinkie," Twilight said, reaching over the table to stroke her hoof. "And we're glad you're with us for Hearth's Warming Eve."

"Yeah," Rainbow said with a nod. "We're sorry for overreacting to your invitations earlier. We had no idea it would have hurt your feelings so much."

"Oh, it's okay," Pinkie Pie said, waving a hoof. "I kind of deserved to be snapped at anyways. I mean, after all, I was being a little bit annoying."

"Erm..." Applejack blushed slightly, tilting the brow of her hat forward. "Maybe make that 'a tad bit too annoying,' sugarcube."

"Or perhaps 'really really annoying,'" Twilight bravely added.

"I was going to go with 'outrageously and disastrously annoying,'" Rarity declared. "But I'm greatly pleased that you girls stated it before me. Don't you agree, Fluttershy?"

"Hmmmmm..." Fluttershy hid behind her own mug. "Yes. Though I think I'll just stick with 'a tad bit too annoying' because it sounds less mean."

The girls giggled again.

"Alright, alright! I get the clue!" Pinkie Pie said. "I promise to take it easy from now on! Just don't be afraid to be more upfront with me, alright? I'm a big pony, after all!"

"Heh, sure thang, darlin'."

"We promise."

"Cross our hearts and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in—"

"Pfft! Don't rub it in!" Pinkie groaned, rolling her eyes. As more chuckles lit the air, she stood up. "Okie dokie lokie! Who wants more cocoa?"

"Oh!" Twilight perked up. "I do!"

"Me! Me!" Applejack waved her hoof.

"Hold onto your me-me's, partner!" She swiveled about and trotted towards the kitchen. "You're in for a bumpy mug—"

Just then, there was a knock on the front door.

"My my..." Rarity exclaimed. "Now who could that be at this hour?"

"Don't worry!" Pinkie danced her way to the entrance. "I'll get it!" After a swift peek through the open window, Pinkie's face brightened. Squealing, she opened the door and stared out, grinning widely. "Hey! It's you!" She pointed. "I knowwwwwww you!"

I looked up with a nervous smile. My saddlebag was gone, like a dead weight thrown to the snowy wind. I stood naked before the warmth wafting out of Sugarcube Corner. "Uhm... hey."

"Hay?! Hay is for horses!" She leaned back, suffering through another one of her giggle-snorts.

"Who's that, Pinkie?"

"Why, it's you-know-who! The guy I was telling you all about! In the flesh!" She suddenly shivered. "Which begs the question! Brrrrr! I'm getting the chills just looking at you!" She grinned my way. "What brings you here on Hearth's Warming Eve, cold, cold stranger?"

I chuckled. As I spotted her friends gathering behind her, I felt a nervous jolt run down my spine. I shot a glance towards my hooves; they looked smooth and spotless in the firelight coming from inside. I felt like a foal again. It made me want to vomit and laugh all at once.

Instead, I murmured, "Pinkamena..."

"Pfft! You can call me Pinkie Pie, y'know."

"Heheh... alright, Pinkie Pie." I gulped. "I was thinking about wh-what you said earlier."

"Yeah? Yeah? And...?"

I looked up at her. I succeeded in smiling. I failed, however, to stop the tears from running down my face. "And... and I believe that I could really use a fr-friend right about n-now."

Pinkie stared at me. Slowly, she smiled. When she crossed the threshold and caught me in her hug, I only then realized how far I had fallen. I felt like a fool, but the warmth of her voice kissed me back to dry land.

"Silly pony," she whispered. "You already have a friend."

I would have replied, if only I wasn't too busy weeping. That's when Pinkie led me inside, away from the cold, and it was there I discovered that, in fact, I had several.

Author's Note