Cheese squinted, trying to protect his watering eyes, and hunched his shoulders against the icy gusts whistling down the long, winding streets of Canterlot. Night had fallen early, several hours ago. He was cold, hungry, and exhausted. It felt impossible to go on, and yet he had to: his Cheesy Sense was forcing him to.
It had become tyrannical lately, relentlessly dragging him towards Canterlot while viciously batting him onto many side trips to throw parties along the way—Smokey Mountain, Las Pegasus, Dodge Junction. As a result, he was always feeling compelled to throw the next party while he was already in the middle of throwing one. It was leaving him no time for rest in between parties, and little time for food or sleep. Cheesy Sense was acting less like the gift he’d always felt it was, and more like some kind of virus that was going to kill its host and simply didn’t care.
He hadn’t felt this way since his magic had mysteriously become fused with Pinkie Pie’s and he’d first experienced that horrible bidirectional pull. But then he hadn’t understood it, and he was trying to run away from it. Now he knew more or less how it worked: his magical capacity to spread Joy was greatly amplified, but also dependent on his continued contact with Pinkie. Sooner or later, he always had to go back for renewal to her, the Living Spirit of Laughter. Once he’d understood that much, he’d tried to convince himself that it was the only thing pulling him back towards Pinkie, and worse, he’d almost convinced Pinkie of this, too. And it wasn’t true. He loved her. Whatever he was meant to do with his life, however she felt about him, there was nothing forced about his love for her. That, too, was magic, but it was the kind of magic that had to be free, like Laughter Herself. But now he wasn’t fighting anything anymore, so why was his Cheesy Sense pulling him in pieces like this?
Frost furred his coat. Ice froze the fringes of his serape into a solid piece and his fetlocks into spiky cuffs; it froze his forelock into a long, drooping icicle. He’d run through the last of his food a day ago and he hadn’t slept. Worst of all, his magic was running dangerously low, so he couldn’t pull his belongings out or put them away. Items he had in storage were beginning to drop away—a juggling ball here, a party horn there—lying half-covered in snow where they’d fallen. That was a very bad sign. He really needed to get to Pinkie, or he would be in big trouble.
He barely registered the brilliantly lit windows on either side of the street. The ponies inside were warm, and he wasn’t, and he didn’t want to think about that. He kept hoping that the next house might be his final destination, or the next, or the next, but none of them were. And it just figured that wherever he was going seemed to be straight uphill.
He didn’t even notice passing the iron gates, mounded high in snow. All he knew was that this dark doorstep was exactly where he was supposed to be. He wasn’t sure why he was needed here, actually, because the ponies inside—stallions, from the sound of them—seemed to be having an awfully good time already.
How was he going to get their attention? He could hardly lift his hoof to the knocker, and he didn’t think he could raise his voice loud enough to make himself heard. He didn’t have to consider this for long. He could scarcely feel the twitch in his flank, but he could hear the squeal of the accordion on it, more effective than any doorbell.
“I’ve got it!” a masculine voice called, and a Royal Guard popped his head out the door, grinning broadly. “Hey! Happy—um, I mean, Halt! Who goes there?” he said, correcting his greeting at the last moment.
The light from the hearth spilled out onto the snow-covered threshold. He could sense the warmth and imagine it, but not quite feel it. Me, thought Cheese. I go here. Would it kill you to let me in first? He shivered and his teeth chattered, so that he could just barely stammer, “Ch, ch, ch . . .”
“Chicken?” guessed the guard.
Another guard joined the first. “Hey, you’re right, Parade Ground, he’s got a rubber chicken frozen to his back. Weird.”
Cheese couldn’t quite shake his head, but he quivered it, and tried again. “N-n-n. Ch, ch, ch . . .”
“Chocolate?”
Oh, come on! Cheese thought.
“Chuckles? Chimichanga? Cherry?” they guessed.
“Cheesie!” squeaked a voice high above them.
Cheese glanced up and froze. There, suspended from the ceiling and surrounded by a warm, rosy glow, hung a small, perfectly rounded pink mare, forelegs flung open and smelling of candy canes. In short, it was Pinkie Pie, and Cheese had never been happier to see her. She dropped to the floor and rushed to the door, pulling him inside.
“Wu-wow, Cheesie,” she said, poking at his shoulder and flank, “you’re like some kind of pony popsicle. Are you ok?” He bugged his eyes out at her. They were the only part of him that hadn’t frozen as solid as a brick. “I’m gonna assume that means no.”
She circled around behind him and began pushing him with her head, through the door, past the guards, and out into the hall. “I was gonna—oof!—start to get worried—whoo!—if you hadn’t shown up soon, but you’re just in time!”
The ice on his horseshoes helped to slide him along, but when they reached the foot of a long staircase, Pinkie had to stop. She trotted around him, looking at him from all angles and pausing to frown and rub her chin with her hoof. Suddenly her face lit up, and she raced off, bringing back with her a small wooden sled. She trussed his feet up onto the sled, and trotted up the stairs with him trailing behind her as though he were a filly or colt’s pull toy, thumping as he rattled up each stair.
Stilton, this place is big, he thought vaguely, as Pinkie pulled him down a long corridor. To their right, high windows rose, through which poured a soft purple light swirling with snow that he was very happy not to be out in anymore. He noticed a series of doors, high and wide like the windows, and wondered which they were going to go through, but Pinkie did not stop until they were past them. She stopped at a much smaller door, behind which he could hear laughter, lighter and higher in pitch than the laughter he’d heard downstairs. She pushed open the door, zoomed behind him, and gave the sled a nudge so that he skidded into the room. “Look who I’ve got, everypony!”
The sled whirled around in a dizzying circle, and he thought he recognized the other occupants of the room, even though he was spinning past them so quickly that he felt sick. All of them were mares, and he thought he knew most of them, but they were dressed so strangely that he wasn’t sure. The room was so warm, the interior so cozy and softly lit, and the familiar but unfamiliar faces so odd that for a moment he thought maybe he actually was freezing somewhere and having a hallucination. On the other hoof, he was defrosting so fast that water was pooling around him and his coat had begun to steam . . . and then Pinkie stopped the skidding with a firm hoof, and the jolt convinced him that no, wherever he was, he was actually there.
“We just got done with the pageant,” explained Pinkie, as she pulled the leather thongs off his hooves, “and lucky for you I got bored of waiting around for Dashie to finish using the mirror, and . . .”
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash shot back as she hovered upside down, near a softly glowing candelabra. “I decided I like the armor, ok? It’s a good look for me!”
“ . . . I decided to change later and then I knew you were here, so I went to get you, and here you are!” Pinkie finished as he carefully lifted his feet and stepped off the sled.
As Pinkie pushed the sled to the side of the room, he noticed that she was wearing a strange outfit with a large ruff, topped by an hat with a puffy crown like a chocolate drop. The hat, the armor, the shining crown Pinkie’s friend Rarity was still wearing as she lounged on a nearby sofa just under the hovering Rainbow Dash: all of it was ringing a bell.
“Some of us are a mite too attached to our costumes,” drawled Applejack, rolling her eyes. She was her ordinary self, with her ordinary friendly smile, and it was comforting to see her under these circumstances, where very little seemed normal at all. Applejack made everyplace as simple, homelike, and welcoming as she was, despite the opulent furnishings and luxurious rugs. “Good to see you, Cheese,” she added, tipping her hat, and then trotted off to fetch something.
“Some of us are very proud of our handiwork,” retorted Rarity, straightening her crown, “and I see nothing wrong with that.” She, at any rate, was very much at home surrounded by velvets and brocades, and required no adjustments at all.
“Um, I think Cheese looks kind of cold and wet, and maybe somepony should do something about it,” murmured Fluttershy as she drifted down from her spot near Rainbow Dash. “Sorry.”
Pinkie had already removed Cheese’s hat, and was reaching for Boneless 2. Rarity sat up abruptly. “Pinkie, darling, stop that!” she gasped. “You’ll get water damage on your costume! Remove it immediately. I shall take care of the situation.” She divested herself of her long purple velvet cape and lunged at Cheese, using her magic to pull at his wet garments and attempting to levitate them off.
“Fluttershy’s right,” said Princess Twilight, stepping forward from the shadows. “I’m sorry, Cheese.” She didn’t wait for permission, but began helping Rarity.
Most ponies didn’t wear clothes or wore them infrequently. Cheese was one of the few who wore them all the time. There was nothing weird about that, he told himself. Some ponies liked clothes, some didn’t: nothing weird about that at all. Nevertheless, having his saddle and serape plucked off in front of a lot of mares made him feel uncomfortably exposed. He felt even more uncomfortable when Rarity and Twilight levitated some towels towards him to scrub him dry, and took evasive action.
“Stop running around!” muttered Twilight.
Nope, he thought. He was exhausted, famished, cold, and low on magic, but if mares were going to start attacking him with towels, then by Cheddar, he could run all night if necessary. He dodged behind another sofa and ducked his head to avoid a jet of magic.
“Really, Mr. Sandwich,” Rarity scolded. “Stop engaging in this coltish behavior!”
“Yeah,” said Pinkie, shaking off her costume, “Cheesie’s kinda shy.”
“I am not!” he snapped, popping up from behind the sofa and wincing as the ice around his muzzle shattered.
“Yay! You can talk!” cheered Pinkie. “Because I would totally have done the talking for you if you couldn’t, but I think it’s better this way.”
“Allow me,” said the figure on the sofa Cheese had been hiding behind. A blanket roll came gliding through the air and unrolled itself over Cheese, so that he was completely covered, head and all. Now he couldn’t see anything, and he thought he heard a gentle chuckle. “I think what our guest needs is a spot by the fire and a chance to rest. Pinkie, if you would be so kind?”
Now he recognized the voice. He’d been hiding behind Princess Celestia, and she’d been the one who dropped the blanket over him. He was embarrassed and grateful at the same time. Pinkie came over, helped him to pull the blanket up over his head so he could see, and guided him towards the rug by the fire, where Applejack was stirring something in a kettle. He noticed that Pinkie didn’t take him too close, and knew she was worried about frostbite.
“I’m all right,” he said, showing her his hooves. “See?” She allowed him to get just a little closer and helped him to lie down. “Seriously, Pinkie, I’m fine.” The truth was that he’d begun to feel a little better as soon as he saw her. Right now, he needed his magic restored even more than food or sleep.
Pinkie shook her head. Clearly, she didn’t agree that he was fine, but she simply flopped down next to him, pressed her side against his, and flipped her tail over his back. He could feel pure happiness flowing from her as she leaned against him, and he smiled, closed his eyes, and sighed.
“Here ya go, Cheese,” said Applejack. He opened his eyes to see her shove a mug of steaming, fragrant brown cider towards him. “Just in time for a little of what’ll cure what ails ya.”
“Actually, you’re a little late,” corrected Rainbow Dash, swooping over and coming in for a flashy landing. “You missed my awesome performance in the pageant. Better than ever this year! Whoa,” she added, taking in Cheese’s thin face and forelegs. “You could stand to put a little weight on, dude. I’m pretty sure earth ponies don’t get any more aerodynamic no matter how much you lay off on the carbs.”
“We can fly if we want to, Dashie,” Pinkie pointed out. Cheese could feel her tail flicking irritably.
“Yeah,” argued Dash, “but not without a bunch of machines and assistive devices, and, ahh . . . y’know,” she said, noticing Pinkie’s expression, “I’m just gonna quit while I’m ahead.”
Cheese took a swig of the hot, spicy, sweet cider, and felt it slowly warming him from the inside. He looked down into the mug and noticed an orange rind, thickly studded with cloves. “You all keep saying I’m ‘just in time’ or ‘a little late.’ Just in time for what?”
“Hearth’s Warming Eve, silly!” exclaimed Pinkie.
He glanced around at Pinkie and her friends, most of whom were partway in and partway out of their costumes: Rainbow Dash, still in full armor as Commander Hurricane; Rarity, lounging again wearing Princess Platinum’s crown; and Pinkie’s puffy, brown-topped hat. He couldn’t have slept through that many school pageants. “Duh, of course,” he said, smacking his face with his hoof. “I still don’t get it, though. I know I’m supposed to throw a doozy of a party—it’s been like a 9.7 on the Roquefort Scale—but I still have no idea what it is.”
“Do you remember the event I asked if you would help plan this summer?” asked Princess Celestia. He started to turn to face her, but she rose from her sofa and walked towards him so that he didn’t have to get up or pull away from Pinkie. He wondered if she understood the transfer of magic really going on, and that Pinkie wasn’t just being friendly or . . . something like that. He could feel himself beginning to blush. Hopefully the princess would attribute that to the fire. “It was the anniversary of the founding of Equestria and the beginning of the reign of the two sisters.”
Yes, of course. How could I forget? Twilight Sparkle had offered him a permanent job at the court planning parties in Canterlot, close enough to Ponyville that he would be able to see Pinkie all the time. And I turned it down . . .
“Yes, I do,” he said instead, “but . . .”
“That’s what Hearth’s Warming really is,” Twilight Sparkle pointed out. “The peace between the Three Tribes and the founding of Equestria.” She trotted over to a pile of books she had heaped up on a table, selected one, and began flipping the pages.
Cheese gasped. “I’m late for my own party?” He wanted to pull the blanket up over his head in shame. That had never happened before.
Fluttershy glided over and alighted on his other side. “Oh, no,” she said. “You’re not late for Hearth’s Warming Eve. We always do the pageant, and we had this already planned. Oh, my. You do look hungry.”
“I’m on it,” said Applejack, making her way towards a sideboard crammed with dishes. “We got all seven desserts. Which do you want?”
“I’ll have a little of everything,” he said. His stomach growled. “Make that a lot of everything.”
“I meant the whole Hearth’s Warming season,” explained Princess Celestia, seating herself on a nearby chair. “From Hearth’s Warming to Alicorn Night. Although really,” she said, and frowned, “it ought to be Alicorns Night, with an s.”
“That it should,” a new voice agreed, and he swiveled his head around to see the eighth occupant of the room. Princess Luna sat, or rather sprawled, in a high-backed armchair, one hind leg hanging over an arm and her pet opossum Tiberius curled around her neck. She was surrounded by wrapping paper, crackers, and dessert plates. A foil crown was canted over her real one; tinsel was thickly twisted around her horn, which was topped with a festive red bulb.
Cheese didn’t really know what to make of Princess Luna. She was the princess who actually remembered having a permanent “amusing pony” on staff, and it was one reason he wasn’t really sorry about turning down the job. He had the impression that anypony who took on trying to keep Princess Luna amused would really be earning his hay. On the other hoof, Pinkie had sent him a copy of the Journal of The Two Sisters. He’d read it and even written a review of it. Based on that, and the tinsel, and the red bulb, it was just possible that under the intense, spooky exterior, Princess Luna might be sort of . . . fun.
“Huzzah!” Princess Luna added, levitating a large cookie up to her mouth, biting into it, and chewing, her cheeks bulging.
“Luna likes Hearth’s Warming Eve,” her elder sister said, with a fond smile. “She enjoys making the most of it.”
Princess Luna tried to say something through a spray of cookie crumbs, although the only discernable words were “moon” and “cookies.”
“Of course,” Princess Celestia went on, “it really ought to be Luna’s holiday—the shortest day and the longest night. But yes—we were hoping for your help during this Hearthstide.”
Well, that was different. He’d thrown Alicorn Night celebrations before—not for royalty, but a party was a party. How tough could it be? “So—Year’s Turn, Alicorn Night, fireworks, music—something like that?” And with Pinkie? Piece of cake. He lifted the cider mug for a long swig.
“Oh, no,” said Twilight Sparkle, and if he had been paying attention, he would have seen the scholar’s manic gleam in her eye. “All of the traditional holidays. A different royal festival every day!”
He missed a few details during the next cough-filled minutes.
“It’s a Royal Jubilee,” continued Twilight, “the . . .”
Cheese coughed up some cloves.
“—ieth anniversary of the reign of the two royal alicorn sisters, and you and Pinkie are going to help us plan a party—a traditional party—every single day. Starting with tomorrow—Hearth’s Warming Day.”
“But . . .”
“And don’t worry about what’s supposed to happen, because I’ve done lots of research,” she went on. “Lots and lots and LOTS of research.”
“Party research?” If Princess Twilight had begun researching party pony magic . . .
Pinkie twirled her tail around his and gave it a brief, reassuring squeeze. “Twilight’s reading books about parties,” she said. She didn’t add, “not books about party ponies,” but Cheese relaxed enough to feel hungry again.
“And I’ve found out all sorts of interesting things about the traditional celebrations, so I’ll be able to make sure you and Pinkie do everything correctly,” Twilight continued.
“And I will be assisting with historically apropos designs and attire,” added Rarity, “which will blend the classically elegant with the chic. Over a thousand years of couture!” she exclaimed in a tone that in a less sophisticated pony would be described as a squeal. “Think of the possibilities!”
Cheese wasn’t really thinking of anything now except for how good it felt to be warm, the sheer joy of having Pinkie leaning into his side, and how much he was looking forward to eating something. Applejack returned with a plate full of dessert.
“Seven desserts,” she said, sliding the plate in front of him, and he was very happy to see that she hadn’t bothered with a dessert plate but just shoveled lots of everything onto a big serving plate. “Although technically you’ve had one of ‘em already. The cider,” she added, in response to his confused frown. “The cloves, see?”
“Um,” said Cheese, who didn’t see, but who didn’t want to blow his credibility as a party expert, “sure. Although seven desserts always feels like a lot of dessert to me.”
“Well, it is,” admitted Rarity, “and I do have to keep a careful eye on my figure, but it is only for one evening, and the required variety is always so tempting!”
I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cheese thought, beginning to worry again. Hearth’s Warming Eve, Cheese, you know this one! C’mon!
“I just like the cookies,” said Dash, swooping in and scooping a few off the plate without asking. “I’m glad there’s gotta be cookies.”
“And this is where my research has uncovered some very interesting material,” said Twilight, looking up from her pile of books, “although maybe, as a party planner, you’ve already discovered this. The specific type of cookie has varied considerably over the centuries, from bar cookies to drop cookies to the lace-like, although many feel that this variant diverts too far from its original symbolic intent . . .”
I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about, Cheese thought as he ate ravenously, but maybe if she keeps talking she’ll drop a couple of obvious hints.
“Pudding!” Pinkie exclaimed.
He swallowed. “Hmm?”
“Pudding for Chancellor Puddinghead! Like my hat!” She leaned her head down so that the hat dropped off, and bit a big mouthful from the crown. “Fthee? Ifth’s good!”
He leaned over and took a bite too. Chocolate pudding. Thick, rich, heavenly, and . . . Chancellor Puddinghead! “Mm!” he said, meaning both, “Wow, this is delish!” and “Oh, I get it!” That’s what the seven desserts are for!
“And of course, the other selections have varied over the centuries too. The pudding is almost always chocolate now, but at an earlier period, it might have been plum pudding or . . .”
“So that’s why my clients always wanted seven desserts!” Cheese said, and then realized he’d said it out loud.
“Well, yes," said Rarity, with a slight frown, “but that’s what everypony does. Everypony in Equestria knows that.”
Was it his imagination, or did Princess Luna look annoyed? “It’s, um . . . not something I have to plan very frequently,” he hedged, which was true. Ponies rarely threw large public parties on Hearth’s Warming Eve. They might go to a pageant put on by the town or the school, and then they returned home for a quiet celebration with their families and a few friends. The trouble was . . . well, the trouble with that was . . .
“Yes, that first celebration was very small, wasn’t it?” Princess Celestia said smoothly, levitating a small plate over to the larger one and scooping up a small amount of one of the desserts. “Just three ponies making friends with each other, singing against the cold. I’m sure they would have been happy to have any of these treats! I don’t remember if we ever asked Smart Cookie, Private Pansy, or Clover the Clever what they would have wanted then, did we, Sister? Because of course, neither of us was there.”
The frown smoothed from Princess Luna’s face. “No, Celie, I don’t think we did. Princess Platinum would have enjoyed that cake, though,” she added. “Spices, edible gold—that was exactly the kind of thing she liked. I will never forget her face,” she went on, dreamily, “when she shot out into the courtyard on her—”
“ Edible gold and marzipan, as you know,” Twilight continued, as though her lecture hadn’t been interrupted, “usually being reserved for royal celebrations.”
“Shoot, I didn’t even know about that until Twilight here did all that research,” Applejack said, cutting into Twilight’s lecture. “Granny Smith sure didn’t put fancy gold on our cake. Plain old caramel apple spice cake with golden delicious apples—that was plenty good enough for us. Seven desserts is a lot, Cheese, but usually we baked the spice cake and the neighbors exchanged cookies with us for Smart Cookie and it all evened out just fine. Plus the cloves ain’t that hard. ‘Clove-r the Clever.’” She shook her head and chuckled. “Corny, but it still cracks me up. And looks like you just joined the clean plate club, so I’ll bring you another round.”
Okay, Cheese thought, I think I can fake this one. It’s got to be one dessert for each of the Three Tribes' leaders and their companions, or something to represent each of them—something like that, except that only makes six. But Hearth’s Warming Eve, one of the biggest holidays in Equestria, and I don’t have any idea how it works? What kind of party pony doesn’t know that? I’m a total fraud.
Pinkie nudged him, met his eye, and deliberately exhaled. He felt a wave of joy, and the anxiety ebbed away. “Try not to worry, Cheesie,” she said under her breath. “You were almost out of magic. All we do is try to make everypony smile. That’s all you have to do.”
“We will have some more pudding,” announced Princess Luna, “if anypony is up.”
“I’ll be delighted,” said Rarity, lifting a clean dessert plate and a spoon off the pile. “Which kind would you like?”
“Both—either—it matters not,” said Luna, waving a regal hoof, and Tiberius opened one eye and wound himself more tightly around her neck. “All of these modern innovations are equally unfamiliar to us.” Cheese saw Princess Celestia glance at her younger sister and raise an eyebrow. Tiberius licked Luna’s ear, and she added, “I like the eggy kind,” in a more normal tone.
“At least one of us thinks you have good taste, Luna,” the solar princess said. “You like the eggy kind best too, Fluttershy, isn’t that right?”
“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy breathed, fanning her wings and unconsciously rising from the floor. “I’m so glad you like it too, Princess,” she added, taking the plate from where Rarity was levitating it and gently landing next to Princess Luna, who smiled at her. “Eggs in the snow is my favorite.”
“Well, DUH, of course it’s your favorite,” snorted Rainbow Dash, “’cause it’s all fluffy and yellow and sweet like you. I mean, uh, yeah,” she said, clearing her throat and landing near the fireside with a clang of her armor. “The Pegasus desserts are pretty rad.”
“The use of meringue to signify the Pegasus tribes,” Twilight said, selecting another book and flipping the pages madly, “dates back over five hundred years . . .”
“All the air,” said Dash, “and couldja get me a plate of that stuff, too, AJ?” Applejack rolled her eyes and walked back to the dessert table. “’Cause it’s all whipped up like a badass dessert tornado.” She evidently decided she didn’t want to wait for a separate plate, leaned over, and grabbed a mouthful off Cheese’s plate. “Pluff if’s the whip cr’m,” she said, fluffy white stuff flying from both sides of her mouth.
“But the Windtorte is a later development,” Twilight went on, “and may not originally have been Equestrian at all.” She frowned. “That’s a hole in my research. Spike! Will you. . .? Oh, that’s right,” she corrected herself. “Spike is in bed.”
Finally a word that sounds familiar, Cheese thought with relief. I know that one, but where? Torte, torte, something-torte. Oh, yeah, Sachertorte. Grandpa Sachertorte. Nah, it’s gotta be a coincidence.
Twilight closed her book. “I’m very relieved to see you, Cheese,” she said, looking up at him instead of down into her notes. “We sent notes all over Equestria asking you to come, but all the messages came back that you’d been there just the day before and rushed out of town. But Pinkie said you’d know and be here anyway, and she usually knows about these things.” She pushed herself away from the table she’d been sitting behind and came up to the group by the fire. Now she wasn’t acting like Professor Twilight or Princess Just Twilight, but really just Twilight, a concerned friend. “Still,” she said, “I’m glad you didn’t need to work your first day here. I can see you need the rest, and honestly, I was a bit worried.” She turned and went to sit next to Princess Celestia.
“I was worried, too, Cheesie,” Pinkie said quietly, so only he could hear her. “I didn’t know where you were and it was spooky. I wish you’d come back sooner.”
“So do I,” he replied, “but I couldn’t, and I don’t know why. Still,” he said, and yawned, “toldja I’ll always come back.”
“The hard work starts tomorrow, with all the official ceremonies,” said Twilight. “Luckily tonight is just family and friends, and the Hearth’s Warming traditions everypony knows.”
Yeah, thought Cheese, and snorted. Everypony knows those good ol’ family traditions but me. And I’m sure not going to tell them about our family tradition: just sitting around and maybe going out for Quirinese food if my father was in a good mood, which of course he almost never was.
He yawned. Yeah, maybe I’m a total fraud, he thought sleepily, his eyes closing, and tomorrow I’ll be exposed as the party pony who didn’t know anything about Hearth’s Warming, but right now I’m next to the hearth, and I’m warm and lying next to Pinkie, and that’s about all the Hearth’s Warming I need.
“More than a thousand years of tradition,” Luna broke in, and the edge in her voice made Cheese’s eyes flicker open. “Mercifully we have your research, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Otherwise some of us wouldn’t know anything about it.”
“Family and friends,” Princess Celestia said, “is all anypony needs to know. But let’s teach them some of the old Hearth’s Warming songs, Luna. Remember ‘Midwinter’s Light?’ It was your favorite. And you and I are the only ones who know it anymore.” She hummed.
Midwinter’s light,
Moon gleaming bright,
Snow shining silver
This long, lovely night . . .
After a moment, Luna’s voice joined her sister’s in duet. Cheese wanted to listen to it, he really did, but . . .
All we do is try to make everypony smile . . .
Family and friends is all anypony needs to know . . .
“Here’s the sugar star,” whispered Pinkie. “For Starswirl. Twilight says you’re supposed to wish on it. Cheesie?”
When he woke up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t remember who’d carried him and put him to bed, but he thought he knew who’d made sure to tuck Boneless 2 between his hooves.
Author's Note
Well, I am back with regular CheesePie, and with a winter holiday one at that, much to my surprise. I usually don’t think to write anything like this until the holidays are over. But in Say Goodnight, Pinkie, Princess Celestia asked Cheese to help celebrate the founding of Equestria and the anniversary of the coronation of the Two Royal Sisters. I was trying to figure out when that would be, and realized, duh, that’s what Hearth’s Warming is, and that I’d also invented a Twelfth Night equivalent—Alicorn Night—in Babs and the Hearth’s Warming Gift.
Twilight has an ambitious schedule. Let’s hope nopony gets killed in the process.
Cheese’s review of The Journal of the Two Sisters is here.
Lots of people have different winter holiday traditions. One is serving seven different fish dishes on Christmas Eve, but dessert is more Pony, I thought. It took a while to come up with the seven desserts:
Clover the Clever: anything with cloves in it
Smart Cookie: Cookies, obviously
Chancellor Puddinghead: A thick pudding of some kind—plum or chocolate. You’ve got to love those earth ponies. They’re nice and direct, and make my job easier.
Princess Platinum: Richness is the key here, which is why her dessert is usually a spice cake. Spices were once much more expensive than they are. Gold leaf and marzipan would be out of the question for most ordinary Equestrian families, as Applejack points out. It was hard to find a gold leaf cake that wasn’t a wedding cake, but here: 
Source
Both Pegasi have desserts with egg white for lightness and airiness.
Private Pansy: Floating Island, or oeufs a la neige, is a sweet yellow egg custard with delicate sweet egg white mounds like clouds on top: perfect for Fluttershy.
Source.
A recipe
Commander Hurricane: Who knew he’d be represented by such a fussy dessert? Spanish Windtorte is a fancy meringue shell filled with whipped cream, fruit, and chocolate shavings, so it’s got both whipped cream and whipped egg white. Cheese is right to make a connection with –torte. Both Spanish Windtorte and Sachertorte are Eastern European—Viennese, in fact.
Here’s a picture, from the cover of The Cooking of Vienna’s Empire:
And here’s what it is.
This is a Sachertorte. It’s a dark chocolate cake with apricot preserves. (It’s also the name of Cheese and Pinkie’s colt in a different set of stories.)
Source:
Six would have felt unbalanced, so the seventh dessert is a decorative star of spun or pulled sugar, representing Star Swirl the Bearded.
That’s plenty of sugar, don’t you think? In all senses of the term.
Cheese woke up in a bed thick with fluffy white coverlets. When he pulled one of his front legs out from under the covers and stretched it out on top of them, it sank until it almost disappeared in the soft mounds. He hadn’t slept in a bed in weeks, and never in one as luxurious as this one.
It was still dark out, but Cheese was used to waking up before dawn, and the nights were so long at this time of year that he had had a full night’s sleep. He was beginning to feel restless, so he sprang out of bed, and began to explore.
There was a smaller room attached to the bedroom. He trotted over, pulled the light cord, and poked his head inside. It was a bathroom with a deep bathtub, and somepony had thoughtfully provided thick towels and a rubber duck. He knew he didn’t look or smell very good right now, and he didn’t want Pinkie or anypony else to be ashamed to be seen with him, especially not Pinkie. The rubber duck sealed the deal. If Boneless Two had a pal to keep him company for a while, he could definitely take a few minutes to clean up.
He pushed the taps on with his left hoof, making sure there was plenty of hot water, dumped in a lot of bubble bath, and then jumped in with all four feet. He submerged his head and then resurfaced, snorting through the suds, his nose white with thick foam. After a few minutes of splashing and yodeling bathtub songs he made up on the spur of the moment, he stood up, pulled the plug, placed the towels on the floor and rolled himself dry. Weeks’ worth of achiness and muscle strain were long gone now. He gave one last long stretch, and then rolled over onto his belly and sat up with a sneeze. The mirror on the opposite wall reflected a thin, excitable young stallion barely out of colthood, whose curly mane bunched and puffed as it dried, rippling as though it had a life of its own: hardly the tough, worldly wise and road worn traveler he tried to be.
He glanced over at the casement window. Its wide panes faced east. As he drew closer, he saw that the dark sky had gone from inky-dark to violet. Now the first pink glimmering streaks of light appeared, the forerunners to the dawn. He raced to the window, panting with excitement as he watched the new day being born. Every day was a chance to show ponies what Joy really was, and he couldn’t wait to get started. With his magic renewed and Pinkie so close, anything could happen. He reared up on his hind legs, bracing his front legs against the windowsill, his eyes wide with wonder as always as the world turned pink. “Good morning, Beautiful,” he murmured.
The windows crashed open, and Pinkie burst through them, sliding down in a positive avalanche of snow. “Happy Hearth’s Warming Day, Cheesie!” she cried, landing on top of him and pinning him to the bottom of the newly created snowdrift. “I brought you donuts!”
Cheese sat up and threw his front legs around her. He heard a great whoosh of wings, and through the window he glimpsed Princess Celestia sailing into the sky in a graceful arc, her many-shaded mane trailing behind her as she pulled the winter sun from its bed. Few ponies were ever privileged to see Celestia raise the sun this close up, and Cheese sat for a moment, his jaw dropped in awe. Then he realized that he was still hugging Pinkie, he could smell fresh donuts, and he was sitting in a pile of melting snow. He let go of Pinkie and backed out of the snow.
“Happy Hearth’s Warming, Pinkie!” he said, shaking himself dry. “Wow, you didn’t have to do that.”
“It was no trouble,” she said around the paper bag clutched in her teeth, and dropped the bag on the bed, where the donuts sent out alluring scents of sugar, cinnamon, and hot fat, all whispering “eat us.” “Joe’s open all night and I had to wish him a Happy Hearth’s Warming ‘cause I think he gets a little lonely, and he gave me these and I think you should have some because Twilight is having a breakfast meeting and I don’t think it’ll have enough sugar. You should eat ‘em while they’re still warm, Cheesie.” She pulled one from the sack and ate it whole. “Fthee? ‘E’re good!”
“Just a sec,” replied Cheese, backing away again as he mentally went through his inventory. Party bomb, party tank, streamers, confetti, collapsible fondue fountain, punchbowls . . . no loud yellow shirt. Boater, pork pie, Admiral’s hat, fish hat, mortarboard . . .still no shirt. It had to be a mistake. He began physically pulling everything out and dumping it. Mouse cages, bouncy castles, light-up dance floors—the pile got bigger and bigger, and still he couldn’t find his yellow shirt, or his Haywaiin shirt, and his serape was gone, and . . .
“If you’re looking for your clothes,” said Pinkie, “you haven’t got any.”
Cheese whirled around. “What?” Don’t need clothes, don’t need clothes, he reminded himself. Lots of ponies never wear clothes.
“Last night, when we carried you down here, your stuff was falling out,” explained Pinkie, “including your clothes.” Her nose wrinkled at the memory. “They were nasty, Cheesie. Rarity went all wobbly and Rainbow Dash said—well, anyway, Twilight said they had to go and Applejack took them away. Just to be washed,” she added, as she saw the look of horror on Cheese’s face. “Rarity’s making something for you for Alicorn Night, but there wasn’t enough time for her to make something overnight, and I said, “ ‘We better find something for Cheesie to wear or he’ll freak out.’ ”
“I am not freaking out,” lied Cheese, as he draped a towel over his barrel like a saddle. Wearing clothes is just a habit. I can kick it anytime I want to.
“And you have kinda long legs, so it wasn’t easy,” Pinkie went on, “but finally we borrowed something and maybe it’ll fit you, and the castle can get drafty anyway, so try it on. And then eat the donuts, ‘k? ‘Cause they’re gonna get cold.”
She pulled out a sweater and tossed it over to Cheese, who struggled into it. It was clearly made for someone with a very different shape and with legs even longer than his. Still, he liked the thick dark blue wool and the white snowflake pattern. Even the small silvery embroidered spots made it look elegant, not fussy, even if it was much fancier than anything he’d usually wear.
“Is it ok?” asked Pinkie.
“It’s great,” he answered. “Nice and warm. Thank you. Of course,” he added, casually picking up the bag lying on the bed, “I didn’t actually need it.” He bit into a donut. He’d missed Joe’s donuts.
“ ‘Course not,” said Pinkie, “but you feel a lot better now you’ve got it, right? Can you eat those on the way to the meeting? It’s gonna be a super-busy day.” She bounced out the door, clearly confident that he was just behind her. It was only as he saw her pink, puffy tail disappear around the doorframe that he realized he hadn’t kissed Pinkie good morning. He’d spent weeks on the road missing her, looking forward to whenever he’d have the chance. And he’d blown it.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” said Princess Twilight, looking up from a sheaf of notes. “Now, I’ve finally consolidated my historical research, everypony, and I thought we could compare notes and get started. We’re going to revive some traditions that haven’t been observed for hundreds of years. It’s going to be just like planning the Crystal Fair!”
“Only with 100% less King Sombra,” Rainbow Dash cut in. “I know, fires of friendship, whatever, I’ve got limits.”
“No monomaniac villains messing up the holidays,” agreed Applejack. “We sure don’t need that ag—I mean, we sure don’t want that,” she added, hastily correcting herself.
Cheese saw that Pinkie had been right to hurry him along. In addition to Twilight, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and the two royal sisters were already seated around a large wooden table. She’d also been right to bring him the donuts, because the platter in the center of the table was filled with fruit and bran biscuits, accompanied by pitchers of water. Pastry was conspicuous by its absence. Maybe that was why neither Princess Celestia nor Princess Luna looked very happy, but they certainly weren’t happy about something. Their gloom was more than counterbalanced by Twilight’s excitement and that of Spike the dragon, who was seated between Twilight and Rarity, frantically scribbling on a long scroll. In fact, he seemed to be keeping track of two sets of documents: Twilight’s historical data, and Rarity’s design notes.
“One thing I’ve found,” Twilight said, stacking her notes, “is that it’s very difficult to establish exactly when traditions started, or who started them, or why. It’s not always as simple as it looks. We know the Hearth’s Warming story, but I can’t place who started the idea of serving seven desserts.”
“Surely this must be a relatively recent tradition,” suggested Princess Luna.
“Oh, no,” Twilight replied, absorbed in her notes. “As I mentioned last night, ponies have been serving seven desserts for hundreds of years.”
“Oh,” said Princess Luna, and now there was a definite frost in the air.
Cheese was about to start juggling bran biscuits, just to break the tension, when Pinkie piped up with, “I just want to know when balloons started. I mean, balloons—I can’t even imagine a party without balloons, though I guess somepony must have had parties before balloons, ‘cause I’m sure ponies must always have had parties, but I’m glad we have balloons now.” She blew up a balloon and batted it into the air.
Cheese recognized his cue, and caught it and the balloon at the same time. “I bet balloons go way back,” he said, directing its flight towards Princess Luna, whose sleepy pet opossum caught it in its tail. She brightened up immediately.
“Indeed, the Amusing Pony at King Bullion’s court always carried a balloon: a balloon on the end of a stick. Remember, sister? He talked to it and rapped it right smartly on courtiers’ heads when uttering a punchline. He entertained me greatly.”
“Oo! So we can have balloons for our parties!” exclaimed Pinkie.
Cheese nodded agreement, and snatched up a napkin, draping it over one hoof. “And if anypony says,” and he held up the napkin, making it speak in a plummy, sneering voice, ‘Balloons are scarcely appropriate for royal events,’ we can just say, ‘But they’re traditional!’ ”
He and Pinkie blew their rollup noisemakers simultaneously, as though they’d planned it. We make a great double act, he thought. Too bad we don’t get the chance to do this more often. Then he almost yelped with pain as his cutie mark gave a sudden, fierce spasm.
“And sometimes traditions differ by tribe, or they’re regional,” continued Twilight, as though this interruption hadn’t occurred, “and I think we should incorporate a bit of everything so nopony feels left out.”
“A thousand years of fashion and décor to play with! It’s a designer’s dream come true,” agreed Rarity, carefully pinning fabric swatches on to design sketches. “I cannot wait for the grand ball on Alicorn Night.”
“I would really so much rather that it were called Alicorns Night,” murmured Princess Celestia. Unfortunately, Twilight was absorbed in her notes again.
“Today is going to be crazy busy. Princess Celestia has to receive foreign dignitaries and exchange gifts all morning, and then there’s a grand dinner and a concert, and there won’t be time to plan tomorrow later today, so we’ll have to run through this checklist and create another checklist of what we’re going to do tomorrow. Tomorrow’s going to be a lot less stressful, but I can’t get a good sense of what Equestrian traditions are for the day after Hearth’s Warming. They seem to vary a good deal, so I’d like to hear from each of you what your families did and we can pick from those.”
“We have the gift-giving in the morning,” said Princess Celestia. “Anyone who visits the Castle the day after Hearth’s Warming has a personal welcome and a boxed gift. That has always been the tradition.”
“Indeed,” said Princess Luna, and frowned. “I do not recollect that tradition.”
“I should have said that it has always been the tradition at Canterlot Castle,” the elder sister explained.
“Ah,” said Princess Luna, seemingly absorbed in prodding her balloon. “The tradition at Canterlot Castle. Yes. That would be why I do not recollect that tradition, as I was never there.”
“You will be tomorrow. I count on you to be there, Luna. We can give so many more presents in half the time, and it’s a royal duty.”
“One you have been fulfilling very nicely without us,” Luna muttered. “We do not see why we are necessary now.”
Twilight was now looking up from her notes, eyes darting from side to side as she followed this increasingly tense dialogue, but it was Spike who interrupted. “I can help! There wouldn’t be gemstones in those boxes, would there?”
Celestia turned to him with a smile. “No, Spike, usually there isn’t. It’s usually a few toys, warm scarves—something everypony needs. And a lot of Hearth’s Warming cookies. I’d be happy to have you help me distribute the boxes, if you like. I shouldn’t have said it was your duty, Sister,” she added, “but it is your right to be there by my side. And I very much want your company. It hasn’t always been easy being the best pony I can be all alone.”
Luna turned her attention from the balloon to her sister’s face, and whatever she saw there seemed to make her soften. “No, Celie, I do not want you to feel alone. I should be happy to help you give the boxes of gifts. Provided there are sufficient cookies, of course. This young drake,” she said, nodding to Spike, “will require cookies.”
Celestia’s mouth quirked. “I’ll make sure to tell Kibitz that it’s vital for the schedule.”
“Good. Because left to his own devices, your majordomo provides meals such as this,” Luna said, snorting and indicating the dish of bran biscuits.
“I’d better write that part about the cookies down,” said Spike. “You don’t have anything else written down, Twilight. Does everyone give out boxes, or is that just a Canterlot thing?”
“I think it must be a unicorn tradition,” said Rarity. “My family gives out boxes to visiting friends and acquaintances, although,” she added with a blush, “it’s mostly regifting and returning items to stores. We call it ‘Reboxing Day.’ ”
“That’s fascinating, Rarity. I’d assumed it was only a Canterlot tradition,” said Twilight. “My family exchanges gifts with friends, and we take some to ponies who are in the hospital for Hearth’s Warming. Then we sometimes go to . . . no,” she said. “I’m sure that’s not important. Let’s move on.”
“Go where?” asked Rarity.
“Oh, Twilight’s family goes to a special kind of play,” said Spike, ignoring Twilight’s frantic gestures. “They always came back giggling, but they said I was too young for it yet. They never explained why, though.”
“Something too mature for the little ones to handle?” asked Applejack. “Seems a little funny for Hearth’s Warming.”
“Do go on, darling,” Rarity said, resting her chin against her hooves. “We’re all positively eager to know.”
“Well, um . . .” said Twilight, looking uncomfortable for the first time that day. “Look, it’s not really unsuitable for fillies and colts. My parents took Shining and me to see them when I was still a little filly. They’re mostly fairy tales, with music and dancing. That’s all.” Everypony at the table stared at her in silence. “Oh, all right,” she said, sighing. “The lead male role is always done by a mare, and the comic female role is always done by a stallion. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just traditional to have a mare playing a prince or a pirate.”
Rainbow Dash guffawed. “Now, that I gotta see! Up in Cloudsdale, we’ve got games and athletic competitions. And the next day, too.” She frowned. “Huh. Come to think of it, the whole season is mostly games and sports.”
Fluttershy sighed. “It’s almost ALL games and sports. I like the idea of the boxes, though,” she added. “Maybe next year I can bring little gift boxes to all of my critter friends. Except for the ones who are hibernating, like Harry the Bear, because he’d be a teeny weeny little bit cross.” She clapped her hooves together.
“At Sweet Apple Acres, we celebrate ‘Get Your Flank Back To Work Day,’” said Applejack. “We clean up and we get back to work.”
Pinkie gasped. “That’s amazing! My family must celebrate that, too. And I had no idea!”
They’re going to ask me next, Cheese realized, his muscles tightening. And I’ve got nothing. He settled for a shrug, a grin to cover his nervousness, and an “uhhhmm,” which could have meant anything.
“So that’s settled then,” said Twilight. “The Princesses will do the gift-giving here at the castle, and we’ll carry gifts across Canterlot for ponies who wouldn’t have any.”
“Don’t forget the play,” said Rainbow Dash. “I want to see badass pirate mares.”
“I must admit it sounds intriguing,” said Rarity, levitating some clean sheets of paper towards herself and beginning to sketch again.
“But we won’t have time!” protested Twilight. “You can’t produce an entire set of costumes overnight!”
“Oh, I’ll find a way,” Rarity said, sketching quickly. “I’m sure I can adapt some old costumes, and I’m confident that even in this huge castle Spike will know where to find them, and he’ll be happy to go on a little adventure à deux, wouldn’t you, Spikey?”
Spike didn’t even have to answer that question. His expression said it all.
“Must admit it sounds like fun,” said Applejack.
“I wouldn’t mind watching a play,” agreed Fluttershy, “unless—oh, my, I wouldn’t have to be in it, would I?”
“Nah,” said Dash, who was already an expert about a play she’d never seen and which didn’t even exist yet. “You can just watch.”
“And we’ll invite everypony coming here today for the dinner and ask if anypony wants to be in it and we’ll do it in the castle tomorrow and it’ll be fun!” said Pinkie.
“Ok,” said Twilight. “It’s ridiculous, but how many of you want to do the play tomorrow?” Seven hooves and a taloned hand rose in the air. She sighed. “You make this very difficult for an organizer.”
“Cheesie and me are planning the parties, though,” Pinkie pointed out, “and I know we can do it. Right, Cheesie?”
“Are you kidding?” said Cheese. “Together, we can do anything,” and then he winced. That came out wrong, he thought, but it’s really what I think. We really can.
“Fine,” said Twilight. “But don’t burn yourselves out. Remember, we’ve still got the traditional Boat Festival . . .”
“Of which we know nothing, as we were not there,” Princess Luna pointed out, the edge returning to her voice.
“And Year’s Turn. . .” Twilight went on, hesitating slightly.
“Of which, once again, we know nothing,” said Princess Luna.
“Luna, it’s a Griffon festival,” said Celestia, sliding her hoof towards her sister’s. “Of course you wouldn’t know it, it’s not one of ours, it . . .”
“And Alicorn Night?” finished Twilight Sparkle. “We can change it to Alicorns Night,” she added quickly, “because it only makes sense now to celebrate alicorns. Oh, wait, I’m an alicorn now, but I didn’t mean me, Princess Luna, I meant you! Alicorns Night!”
“Of which, again, we know nothing,” snapped Princess Luna, slamming both hooves on the table and rising. “This festival,” she continued, her voice amplifying until it echoed, “is nothing more than a celebration of Our Thousand-Year Absence.”
Where did that gale force wind come from? wondered Cheese. The Night Princess’s starry mane was now a storm cloud framing her shoulders and her rage-filled face.
“It Is A Calculated Insult And A Hoof To Our Royal Face, Twilight Sparkle, And We Take It As Such. And As These Merriments Have Arisen In The Joy Of Our Absence Which Ye Lamented Not, We Would Not Dream Of Defiling Them By Our Presence. Celebrate As Ye Wish, O Ponies, And Let Your Joy Be Unrestrained, For The Dark Princess Shall Confine Herself To Solitude.”
She swept from the room, her psychotropic weather system exiting with her. A long silence followed.
“Well,” said Applejack, “that sure was somethin’.”
The top of Fluttershy’s head peeped above the table. “Is . . .is she gone?”
“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “Whoa, Rarity, you gotta admit you’re totally outclassed in the drama queen department. You’re not even in the same league.” Everypony else glared at her. “What?” she said. “That’s kind of a compliment!”
“But I didn’t mean to insult her!” cried Twilight Sparkle. “I didn’t mean that at all! The whole festival is for her and you! Princess, you have to believe me!”
“I do,” said Princess Celestia, and sighed. “The festival must go on as planned. We cannot disappoint everypony looking forward to it.”
An elderly stallion wearing a pair of pince-nez appeared in the door. “Your Highness, it is time for your formal reception with the foreign dignitaries. If you leave immediately, we’ll be no more than twenty-nine seconds late.”
“Thank you, Kibitz,” she replied, and rose from the table. “I shall disappoint nopony.”
“But what about your Hearth’s Warming, Princess?” said Twilight Sparkle, trotting behind her.
She turned to face her former student, and Cheese felt the sheer force of a melancholy so deep that even his party pony abilities and Pinkie’s combined could not hope to pierce it. “As always,” she said, “I shall keep Hearth’s Warming in the absence of the ponies I love most, and warm myself in the light of others’ happiness. Don’t fret, youngest princess. You have done nothing wrong. Old injuries are not so easily healed.” She followed Kibitz from the room.
Twilight Sparkle sighed. “You heard her, everypony. We’ll just go on as planned with the dinner and the concert, and work as hard as we can. The meeting’s over.”
Everypony left immediately. Cheese was still so startled by what had just occurred that once again, he missed Pinkie. He began to trot quickly from the room, hoping he could catch up to her, but he was stopped by a loud clash of chords and a sharp pain in his flank. He had to go and make somepony smile. And he already knew which pony it was.
“Oh, Stilton,” he groaned.
~~
Cheese followed his Cheesy Sense and finally traced Princess Luna to the library. Even though he couldn’t see her at first, it was obvious where she must be. As he trotted down an aisle, the shelves on either side of him grew darker and darker, and finally he came upon her, lying in a pool of visible darkness. Even though it was still morning and she was next to a large bay window, no sunlight streamed over her. In fact, her darkness and gloom seemed to be penetrating the window and casting a shadow over the immediate area outside.
No, he thought. This is too big of a job. I don’t think the Great Ponyacci himself could handle this. In fact, I’m not even sure Pinkie could handle this. Still, Cheesy Sense wouldn’t push me into doing something I can’t handle. Would it?
The truth was that it had been doing that a lot lately, but he still didn’t have the option of ignoring it, so it wasn’t a question of whether he would try to pacify the angriest alicorn he’d ever seen. The real question was how. Tact. This was going to require ta—
“WA-HEY-HEY! ARE YOU READY TO LAUGH?” He exploded in front of Princess Luna in a shower of confetti, pulling his accordion from nowhere and launching into a fortissimo rendition of the Dawn Patrol Polka.
Princess Luna clapped her hooves over her ears. “Be quiet, young Amusing Pony!” snapped the Princess of the Night, knitting her eyebrows. “Thou interrupt’st our meditations.”
“That’s my job!” Cheese replied, bouncing onto a table and crossing his legs. It was as though something was using him and speaking through him, exactly as he’d done with his improvised puppet earlier that day.
“Begone, foal,” she snorted.
“Are you positive I’m the only foal in this particular picture, Princess?” said Cheese, withdrawing a balloon on a stick and brandishing it. “Because even a party pony’s patter can be peculiarly pertinent. Yesterday I was a hungry nopony wandering around in the cold. I’ve got no real business being in Canterlot Castle, and yet here I am helping to plan a party, which is my favorite thing to do, with my favorite pony in the world. I’m about as happy as an earth pony in earth, and I’m talking to a princess. You’re the co-ruler of Equestria and everypony from your sister on down wants you to be the hostess and guest of honor at the biggest event Canterlot has ever seen, and instead, you’re sulking in the library and wasting your time talking to a foal, which to me makes you look pretty foalish. So who’s the bigger foal, your Highness? You or me?” He tapped her on the nose with his balloon.
Princess Luna swelled as she took a deep inhale, and the part of Cheese that was still capable of rational thought prepared for disintegration. “Thou art most malapert, knave,” she said, and sighed. “And unfortunately, thou art correct. We have been foalish.” She raised a hoof as the full horror of what he’d done began to dawn on him. “Fret not. An Amusing Pony hath license to say what he will. That is, as thou said’st, thy job. How dost thou like our sweater?”
“Hmm?” Cheese looked down at the sweater he’d been wearing. Now he noticed that the dark blue colors varied and shimmered exactly like Luna’s mane, and that the silvery spots were actually the moon in its different phases. It didn’t fit him because it fitted her, but nevertheless—
“I like it,” he said truthfully. “I like the colors. It almost reminds me of home at this time of year, but in a good way, if that’s possible.”
Luna sat up, and the darkness around her began to dissipate. “Truly?”
Cheese nodded. “Uh-huh. The reds and golds are beautiful, but my family doesn’t decorate with them. These are more suitable for winter and for lights shining in darkness. Like candles.”
“Or the moon?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She sat silently, as though she were trying to absorb what he said, as though she were trying to believe it: that lights shimmering in winter darkness were as beautiful as the golden summer sun. “A princess must uphold tradition,” she murmured. “I am over a thousand years old, and I am, as you said, a foal. I must know tradition, and I know nothing of it. Nothing.”
It was clearly time to come clean. “To tell the truth, your Princess-ness,” he admitted, “neither do I.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Really.”
He held up a hoof, crossed his heart, and smashed a cupcake into one eye. “Really and truly.” He paused to lick off the frosting. “Mm. Chocolate. I’m more or less clueless about Hearth’s Warming. Oh, sure, I know all about the history and the pageants, but I don’t know anything about what everypony eats and what they do at home, because my family doesn’t do those things. Lots of fillies and colts at school talked about presents and things they were going to do, and when I came home once and asked about them, my mother said that we were different and that was that, and she wouldn’t hear any talk of it in her house again. We did have a winter celebration, but it wasn’t Hearth’s Warming. And when we came home from the Hearth’s Warming pageant, we did nothing on purpose. One year my father brought back some Quirinese food, but that was it. And when I tried to pull out my accordion once, so at least we could have some music . . . ”
Right about then was when I learned that wasn’t my home. “Um . . . my mother didn’t like it very much. So, nope. I’m as lost as you are. Maybe more. And sometimes it’s tough to fit in.”
He heard a gasp high above them. There sat Pinkie atop a bookcase. “I know, right? I mean, it’s not like my family doesn’t celebrate Hearth’s Warming or celebrates something else. My family doesn’t celebrate anything!” She jumped down from the bookcase, so that she was facing Cheese.
“Well, it’s not as though we didn’t do anything at all,” Cheese began, walking towards her.
“Same here,” said Pinkie, nodding and taking a step towards him. “We exchanged rocks, and sometimes I got a wooden toy.”
“Weird,” said Cheese. “Me too! And candles. Lots of candles.”
“We had candles in the window. It was the only thing we had, though. And Maud made rock candy with me.”
“Potatoes,” Cheese reminisced. “For some reason, it was always potatoes. Dunno why.” By now, they were practically nose to nose.
“Of course, some families near us decorated more . . .”
“ . . . and they played music, but . . .”
“My family just wasn’t all that into the holidays,” they finished more or less together. Their eyes widened.
“Hey! Yours, too?” they said.
“Jinx!”
Princess Luna looked from one party pony to another. “Do I understand you correctly? Neither of your families celebrated Hearth’s Warming?”
“Nope!” said Cheese, hooking a front leg around Pinkie’s shoulders.
“In fact, your families do not care for celebrating holidays at all?”
“Nope!” Cheese said again.
“And yet, somehow, you are both party ponies.”
“Yep!” Pinkie exclaimed with a wide grin.
“How?”
They both shrugged. “Dunno,” said Cheese.
“I just do what makes ponies happy," said Pinkie. "If it’s something everypony’s always done and it makes everypony happy, then I do that. If something new makes everypony happier, I do that. And besides, the new party ideas are going to be the old party ideas next year and the old party ideas we stopped doing are going to be brand new soon, and—”
“—when you do the new party ideas long enough, they become tradition!” finished Cheese. They blew their noisemakers.
“And that is what we’re making now, I hope, Sister.” The last of the darkness melted away as the Princess of the Sun stepped forward. “Luna, I know you weren’t here when we first started doing most of these things, but believe me: I wanted you there for every single one of them. I know we can never really un-do what was done, but I wanted to repeat those old traditions with you so we can remake them. We can start remembering them differently, as though you had been there with me for all of them, in your rightful place, where you belong. Can you help me make new memories, Luna?”
Luna nodded, and then rushed forward as her older sister caught her in a hug.
“Cheesie,” whispered Pinkie, “I’m about to be brilliant.”
“I can tell.”
“Princess Celestia, didn’t you say that Hearth’s Warming was really Luna’s holiday?”
Celestia nodded. “The shortest day and the longest night of the year, yes. If the Summer Sun Celebration is mine, Hearth’s Warming rightfully ought to be hers.”
“Well, then,” Pinkie said, “let’s make it hers. It’s always been hers. You see?”
Both Princesses frowned, but Cheese’s face lit up. “That IS brilliant, Pinkie! Why not do the Summer Sun Celebration in reverse? Instead of lowering the moon to raise the sun, you lower the sun and Princess Luna raises the moon! And since Princess Twilight’s been reviving all of these old traditions . . .”
“You can say it’s a really, really, really old tradition and it was always done like this and you’re just starting it up again!” said Pinkie. “Who’s going to know except for you two, anyway?”
Cheese suddenly realized the magnitude of what they were suggesting. The Equestrian year revolved around the Summer Sun Celebration and its Princess. They were asking for the year to be split in two, and for Princess Celestia to cede a little of her importance to her younger sister. Maybe she wouldn’t want for them to really be equal. Maybe she’d want to keep her celebration the most important. Maybe . . .
“What a wonderful idea!” cried Princess Celestia. “Luna, it’s perfect. You’ve always been my equal. We were meant to rule together. Why not let everypony see it for themselves? Please say you’ll do it.”
Princess Luna pushed forward her lower lip, as though she were considering the matter.
“You want me to do what?” Twilight Sparkle said, and gasped. “I can’t just fly the Summer Sun Celebration flight routine backwards and in reverse! Not just like that, without any practice!”
Rainbow Dash poked Twilight in the belly and snickered. “Getting soft there, Twilight? Haven’t been keeping up the training the way you should have? That’s what happens when you sit on your butt and read books all day.”
“But, but—the planning!”
“We’re on it!” chirped Pinkie.
“But that’s a complicated routine!”
“Eh, I’ll coach you,” said Rainbow Dash. “I’m an awesome coach. Ask anypony. Two hours of me screaming at you and you’ll fly that routine like a pro.” She began pushing Twilight out the door. “Don’t worry,” she assured Princess Celestia. “I won’t go too easy on her.”
“Oh, dear,” murmured Fluttershy. “I’m afraid she won’t. I’d better go with them and make sure Twilight is all right.” She trotted after them.
Pinkie pulled out a checklist. It was odd seeing Pinkie with a checklist, but Cheese used them himself when necessary. “We have to re-do the schedule now. Let’s see—the sun's schedule to go down at about 4:30, so that’s when the ceremony has to be, and we’ll have to move dinner to afterwards, maybe 5 pm or 5:25. Guests are going to start arriving at three o’clock for dinner at four, and we can’t let them stand around with nothing to eat, so . . . ”
“Tea,” said Rarity. “We will offer tea on tables in the conservatory.”
“Perfect!” Pinkie said.
“Goodness!” Rarity cried. “That will mean more tables to decorate!” She galloped off with Spike at her heels.
“And lots and lots of little cakes!” exclaimed Pinkie. “C’mon, Applejack, let’s go down to the kitchen and get our baking groove on!”
She bounced off, followed by Applejack, and Cheese suddenly remembered that he still hadn’t had a chance to kiss Pinkie good morning. It was a little late for morning. By now he’d settle for kissing her, period, but when were they ever going to get a few minutes to themselves? He sighed, and then turned to the Princesses with a smile. “Would you like to work on the ceremony now?”
The entire event was a great success. The guests exclaimed over the elegantly decorated conservatory and Pinkie’s Hearth’s Warming Moon cakes and Applejack’s Apple Moon pies, both invented for the occasion. The Royal Guard took their positions at eight great horns flanking either side of the platform as the guests filed outside, clutching cups of tea and hot cider. Pinkie and Cheese appeared together on the balcony.
“And now presenting for the first time,” Cheese announced.
“And when we say ‘for the first time,’ we mean ‘the first time in a super-duper long time,’ because this is a really, really old tradition and you’re amazingly terrifically lucky to see it—” Pinkie cut in.
“The raising of the Winter’s Moon!” they said together.
Princess Celestia sailed into the air, followed by her sister, hovering in front of the symbols of the sun and moon. They spread their wings wide, and the sun began its graceful descent. Exactly at the halfway point, Princess Twilight shot into the sky, but from Luna’s banner instead of Celestia's, and going from right to left. The full moon slowly rose into the sky, casting silver rays on the snow, and the crowd erupted into spontaneous applause and cheers. Princess Luna looked down at them, surprised at first, and then broke into a wide smile. Princess Celestia flew down, saying in a voice audible only to Luna, “Sister, you can leave the moon up if you want, but come down and join us for dinner.”
Everypony loved the dinner, which featured winter vegetables, and the concert that followed. Pinkie and Cheese watched the concert from the central hall. There was a bit of cleaning up to do and they needed to set up some more tables near the decorated Hearth’s Warming tree, and string ensembles weren’t really their thing. This was the closest to being alone they’d been all day, and Cheese kept trying to get closer to Pinkie, but she was racing around in a pink blur laying out mugs and silver urns, and it was nearly impossible to get her attention. Finally, he cleared his throat, raised his voice, and bellowed, “Pinkie!”
Pinkie dropped some cups. “What?”
“There’s something . . . there’s something I forgot to do,” he stammered, and then darted over to her.
“Really?”
He reached out for her—and the huge double doors opened up and the crowd streamed out. Pinkie ran to greet them. Cheese smacked his hoof to his forehead. “Never mind,” he muttered.
Everypony had a last cup of hot chocolate, and began to leave in small groups. “I say, Fleur,” said a blue-maned unicorn with a monocle to his elegant companion, “what a fascinating ceremony! I don’t recollect having heard of it before.”
A large white unicorn accompanying them sniffed. “If you came from a great house with royal blood, you would have known about this ancient tradition. Obviously, you don’t.”
“Oh, really?” said Fancy Pants. “I stand corrected, then. It’s simply marvelous. I hope they do it every year.” He passed by the Princesses on his way out the door, and Cheese could have sworn he saw the older unicorn wink at them.
Finally all the guests had left, and only a small group remained around the Hearth’s Warming Tree—Cheese, Pinkie, Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Spike, and the two princesses. Spike was almost asleep on his feet, and Applejack yawned.
“Whoo, that was a long day, everypony,” she said. “Good thing tomorrow’s so quiet.”
“I shall sleep in,” announced Rarity. “Oh, forgive me,” she said to the Princesses. “I forgot that you must stay awake all night, and that you must arise at dawn.”
“We’re used to it,” said Princess Celestia, smiling, “but all of you should be off to bed. Thank you all so much for arranging the events today. We couldn’t be happier, could we, Luna?”
A deep chuckling began to fill the hall, and they all froze. The tree began to twist and transform, until it resolved into a draconequus, curled into a spiral and decorated precisely like the tree.
“Celestia, dear girl,” said Discord. “In all the excitement, you seem to have neglected to send me an invitation. And nothing annoys a draconequus so much as not receiving invitations.”
Author's Note
Just in time to go totally unnoticed, the Hearth’s Warming Day portion of Command Performance!
Please forgive any minor errors. I have snatched the writing time between late Christmas Eve and early Christmas morning with my family, hoping to get it out in a timely manner, and I'll tidy them up later. The next one is Reboxing Day, the day after Hearth’s Warming, but that may be a little late.
Cheese, as you’ll notice, is a bit culturally different. I’ll be doing a blog post about that, if you want to keep an eye out for it.
Some of you may recognize Cheese’s dialogue with Luna. I’ve adapted it from a scene between Olivia and Feste in Twelfth Night.
Discord’s last line is a quote from Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest.
