Filling Space

by Noble Thought

Rating: teen
Tags: Dinky Hooves, Derpy Hooves, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sparkler, Romance
Length: 7875

Hearth's Warming Eve. A night to celebrate new beginnings, to be with family and friends, and welcome the new year. For Derpy Hooves, a few things are missing.

Hearth's Warming Eve.

A night to celebrate new beginnings, to be with family and friends, and welcome the new year.

For Derpy Hooves, a few things are missing.

Editing by Minds Eye, prereading by ZodiacSpear

Rated T for kissing, drinking.

Thank you kindly to Tchernobog for permission to use a different cover art, originally for Mood Wings! Give it a read if you haven't already.
Art by Im_not_sue.

Published 2016-01-20 23:10:03 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-20 23:10:03 UTC

...and Making Time

“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” Derpy murmured as she set the last trinket in its place.

Three eyries, actually unused bird nests saved before the first snows and meticulously cleaned, sat on the mantle above the fireplace. Two were lined with decorative, sky-blue and white hoof-stitched quilts smoothed to an even bowl with only the corners peeking over the edge. Derpy sat in front of the third, one eye closed, and tallied up the items inside.

Each one was a wish for the new year to come. A tiny wooden egg painted like a robin's; the petals of a rose, bundled with a silver thread and preserved in crystalline wax; a quill sharpened for writing, wrapped in a scrap of paper with a wish written, and carefully rewritten after last week’s blizzard.

It’d given her a headache to force her eyes to agree long enough to write that much, but it’d been worth it.

She covered the nest with her mother’s quilt, made ages ago, as many pegasi did, while Derpy had grown in her mother’s womb. Kneading into the quilt as her mother had shown her year after year, each wish was wrapped warm and snug for the coldest night of the year, before the hearth would be warmed with laughter and fire and friendship.

Each one, she touched lightly with the edge of her hoof, eyes closed, and recalled to her heart the quilts she had knitted for each of her own daughters as they lay nestled within her. Like her mother before her, it had taken almost eleven months to complete all the necessary stitching for each one. Like her mother before her, she had spent only the moments before going to bed, singing softly to her daughter, and then both, at the task.

Dinky’s had taken longer, lasting up through the first months of her weaning, as it was hard to knit and care for her daughter while working figures for the team’s finances and juggling play schedules. But she had finished it.

Her daughters would have brought their own wishes, and she had taken great joy in helping them choose in years past, but last week’s blizzard had closed off the passes to Canterlot, and they were stuck until the work crews could clear the tracks.

She wished, sometimes, that her mother was still there to give her advice. Or that she had been closer to her father. She sighed, pushing those thoughts away, and drew in a breath filled with the smoky, spicy warmth of cedar chips smouldering merrily at the edges of the fire.

The wind rose and moaned down the chimney, sending the low-burning fire to guttering briefly as a patter of snow-turned-rain cascaded down amid the simmering coals. She added, again, fixing the flue to the list of things that needed doing, and shook her head over how scattered her thoughts were.

Outside, the wind settled again to the slow rise and fall of a constantly shifting song of chill merriment against the eaves of her home. It set a branch to playing a gentle tattoo against a wall, asking her to come play and sing and dance. Voices drifted along with it, raised in song, cajoling her to come join them. They grew in volume, and the wind rose again, as though accompanying them, and sent another chilling gust and light patter of snow.

Warmth waited for her outside, and happiness.

She should push the nests closer together if the snow was going to keep falling in. The lumpy quilt would keep them warm with her words, waiting until the dwindling embers would, tomorrow, kindle a blaze that would warm her hearth even as her wishes might warm her heart.

The voices of the carolers died down, the words muffled into incoherence by the thickly insulated walls of her home. Whether they had stopped or moved on, she didn’t know until the sound of hooves crunching in the snow announced a visitor.

“You girls go on ahead,” Twilight’s voice called from without. “We’ll catch up with you.”

“If you can catch up with us!”

“Shush, Dash. We’ll go slow. Do whatcha gotta, Twi.”

“Spoilsport.”

Derpy pressed a hoof to her lips, stifling the laugh that wanted to escape. Her friends were there for her, and they were letting her know they were. They didn’t have to shout above the low wind, after all.

A knock came at her door.

“Come in, Twilight.”

Laughter followed a whispering line of snow as Twilight Sparkle danced inside, catching a snowball on an upraised wing. Two more snowballs slapped against her flank, and a third against the side of the house to gales of laughter from outside.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Twilight laughed as she returned fire with a salvo that drew muffled shrieks and gales of laughter.

The door closed just in time for a dozen more snowballs to thump harmlessly against its solid surface. Twilight danced in place, laughing, her hooves striking a muffled staccato against the welcome mat.

“I’m almost ready,” Derpy said, interjecting before Twilight could quell her laughter enough to speak. “I just need to tidy up a little for—” She cut herself off, flushed, and shook her head. “Just give me a few minutes.”

She didn't miss Twilight's ears quivering to stay upright as her eyes flicked across the mantle, but she didn't say anything. Neither did she stop smiling, nor her eyes cease their twinkling. “Of course. Would you like me to help? I’m really good at cleaning up.”

Derpy’s thoughts came to a stop, and she looked around at the house, really looked. It was an effort to force her eyes to agree, but when they did…

Everything was out of place. The books Twilight had given her for her birthday last year shouldn’t have been on that shelf, but the one above it. The decorative bookends Twilight had given her should have been facing outwards, not with their noses almost touching, with only a single book keeping them apart. The bowls she thought she had stacked next to the sink were, in fact, stacked atop a newspaper that was spreading a slow, black stain of newsprint into the wood below it.

In fact, the only things that were in their proper places were the three eyries, and she knew that only because she’d spent the last hour arranging them with one eye closed, writing in her best hoof, and preparing the three gifts of heart, hope, and home.

“Derpy, let me help.”

She couldn't help a sigh as she smoothed the two quilts down again. “It’s hard to start over.”

“But you’re not starting over. This is a step in a process,” Twilight murmured at her side. “I read all the books I could, and all of them said the first major holiday is the hardest. I know… I know things didn’t exactly work out like we’d planned, either, but…” Twilight coughed, her lips curling up into a smile that danced crazily in Derpy’s vision as her eyes slipped out of focus again. “I can help. I want to.”

“I know you do.” And she should. She knew she should. But some stubborn part of her was still insisting that she could manage it on her own. But it’s more fun together.

“Remember our first date?”

“Un. For. Gettable.” Derpy laughed softly, shaking her head. “Everything was perfect, Twilight.”

“What first date are you talking about?” Twilight smiled as she said it, and leaned over to nip Derpy’s cheek. “I will admit to enjoying the gazebo.”

“And that’s all that needed to happen.”

“Oh please. We wouldn’t have been under the gazebo in the first place if everything else hadn’t gone horribly wrong!”

“We define horribly very differently, then. Let’s see…” Derpy tapped a hoof on the floor. “Equestria wasn’t in danger, there wasn’t a precipitating riot, or a rogue chaotic thought. That would have been a dandy first date.”

Twilight shook her head, laughing. “I’m dating an insane pony. Fillydelphia wasn’t date material. At all.”

“Oh? I thought the cafe after you all stopped the riot was quite nice. And the park. And the formal dinner the mayor threw us. Everything leading up to that was prep work.” Derpy smiled at Twilight’s incredulous stare. “You don’t have to wrestle a teenage mare and a hyperactive filly into a morning routine every day. Everything leading up to that dinner in Fillydelphia was positively peaceful next to a Monday morning in the Hooves household.”

“I’d like to see that.” Twilight tapped Derpy’s hoof lightly. “But I sincerely doubt it compares to an infectious thought for sheer chaos potential.”

Derpy tried to smile, but found her eyes drawn back to the wish eyries. “Maybe someday… but it won’t be like it was. They’ll be grown up.”

Twilight shifted beside her. A wing came up, brushed against Derpy’s back, and dropped again. In a soft, slow voice, she whispered, “They’re fine. I know they are.”

“I know. And…” The house did need to be cleaned. Four days worth of plates languished on the counter, the books on the shelves had been opened, stared at and placed back haphazardly. Even the laundry was at least two days behind. Not that there was much of it anymore.

“I would like you to help, but…” Derpy squinted out of one eye, and Twilight’s wavering smile stabilized, and her eyes became twinkling gems in the dimming glow of the hearthfire. She smiled. “Thank you."

"You’re not alone, Derpy. We’re… I’m here, and so is everypony else. We’re all here for you." Twilight edged closer, her cheeks glowing with more than cherry emberlight. “I know… we’re kinda new together, and this is a big step. I think we’re skipping an entire step, actually. From six: casual dates to eight: interacting with family.”

“I know. We are moving fast.” An ugly thought surfaced, suggesting Twilight was only there to fill a need. She had started courting Twilight soon after Sparkler had announced her intent to attend Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, after all. “But it’s also been fun.”

“It has.” Twilight touched her cheek with a light peck. “I’m still learning this marefriends thing. So, if I’m overstepping my bounds, let me know. I’ve been reading all the books I can, but… I’m quickly learning there’s so much that I can’t learn from a book about… you know...” Twilight flushed and stuck out her tongue. “And Rarity’s romance novels haven’t helped at all. I don’t know how she can read those.”

Derpy laughed softly. “I bet I know some things you have learned from those novels.”

“Er…”

A smile tugged at Derpy’s lips, drawing her away from the ugly notion as she leaned into her marefriend as she sputtered a laugh, her body growing warm.

The sprig of mistletoe beside her eyrie had been a part of her original wishes. Something else had replaced it, however. And maybe she didn’t need to wish for it. And maybe she didn’t need to think too hard about it, either.

She’d been friends with Twilight Sparkle for over a year, and they’d been close friends only a little less than that. Being the special envoy to the crown for the Ponyville Post Office had had its quirks, and its perks to go along with the responsibilities, and she’d found herself growing closer to Twilight, and her visits longer, tending to linger longer as simple thank yous turned into polite chats.

Those polite chats had turned into discussions, sometimes arguments, about a dazzling array of topics from the nature of apple cider to zebra myths and legends, and Derpy’s visits had come more often, and on thin pretenses of business… until she had dropped the pretense altogether after an eventful trip to Fillydelphia to solve a friendship problem had nearly spiraled out of control, and only an impromptu game of Hoofball, that Derpy had cheered as enthusiastically as she could from the sidelines, had saved the city from descending into anarchic chaos.

A week later, Derpy had delivered a box of mistletoe and asked the princess on a date.

“I could use your help cleaning up.”

“Derpy, you don’t have to worry. I’m happy to help.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, let it out, and kissed Twilight one more time. “Let me at least tend the fire before we go.”

Twilight stood back to study the rest of the house while Derpy banked the coals and separated them from the remains of the single log. It was an easy enough exercise made easier for the paltry amount of ash built up.

In the time it took her to herd the embers of the log aside and shovel the ashes into the brass bucket on the hearthstones, the rest of the house was neater than it had been since September.

Plates and dishes were properly stacked for washing and both sides of the sink were full of hot water again—that would freeze by morning if the hearth wasn’t properly tended. The bookends, the busts of two mares, no longer had a book separating their muzzles. Something Twilight giggled over. The book title, she said, was So Your Teenager is Dating.

“Worst. Book. Ever.” Derpy rolled her eyes. “The first page says get over it.”

“Gift from Sparkler?”

“Yep. How’d you guess?”

By the time the last of the cold ash was separated from the few remaining embers, and one of those ladled into a sand-filled bucket, Twilight had turned her house from a neat-freak’s worst nightmare to… what it had been like before. Everything in its place. Neat and tidy, just the way Sparkler liked it.

“You unicorns make tidying up look so easy.” Derpy tried to laugh, managed to force a smile, and swallowed the lump in her throat, only to have it come right back.

“Come outside. Let’s go join the carollers.” The levity in Twilight’s voice hurt. How could she be so happy? “Come on, Derpy. It didn’t take us long. I bet they haven’t gone far.”

It was something she needed to do. She knew that. But… All around her were the memories she wanted to be there again. Memories of other Hearth’s Warmings with her daughters.

There were Dinky’s and Sparkler’s height markers, etched into the solid oak of a closet door. And the smooth-worn planks leading from the upstairs where thousands of days of hooves tramping up and flying down had done better than sanding at wearing them almost as smooth as glass. Tomorrow, they would have come tramping down them. Or Dinky would have. Sparkler…

Calls of “Breakfast!” rang out in her memory, followed by the tramp and scuffle of her youngest, and the moan of “Just a little longer!” coming from almost directly overhead from her eldest.

“Are you okay?” Twilight, the merry glow fading from her voice, brought her back to the present, where her marefriend was holding her close with both wings and hooves. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I mean… I could go by myself. Alone…”

“So help me, if your bottom lip starts trembling…”

It did.

She had to laugh. It was exactly how Dinky got her big sister to do what she wanted. If you don’t want to. With one thing missing. “You don’t sound nearly manipulative enough to pull that off. You need a pint-sized pair of puppy-dog eyes—” She darted a look around. “—to really pull it off.”

“Spike’s in Canterlot, visiting my folks. It’s just me.” Twilight laughed and tried to pull it off on her own, but her smile spoiled it.

"Oh. Did you learn that from your mother?"

“Maybe. I do have a big brother. And he’s just as susceptible as you.” Twilight leaned in for another kiss, eyes twinkling. “Come on. Let’s go. They’re probably waiting for us a couple houses down.”

In short order, Derpy stepped into the soft pile of snow pocked with the lumpy remains of a dozen or more snowballs. Distant strains of a chorus of ponies singing tuneless carols drifted along on the wind, more than a few houses away.

Enthusiasm trumped skill in the cold winter night, when half of the ponies singing would be on their third or fourth brandy or mead or cider provided by the houses they sang for and, at least for the ponies earliest in the train, the second-most important reason for carolling.

The first was having the best time one could have before the start of the new year with your best friends and family.

“How are Dinky and Sparkler doing in Canterlot?” Twilight asked quietly.

“Fine, I think. Dinky sent me a letter last week, and she’s really happy with her teachers, and her roommate is really sweet, it sounds like.” Derpy chuckled and lifted her face to the wind, eyes open. The cold made her eyes tear up. “Sparkler… I think she’s glad to be away from home for a while. She wrote a month ago, said everything was okay, classes were fine, and stop pestering me.” She chuckled again, grinning, her cheeks aching.

“Sounds… good.”

“It is. I know she’s glad to be away, and that hurts, but I’m glad they’re taking their schooling seriously, at least.” More than I did. She shook her head, smiling more brightly. “My babies are growing up.” I’m so proud of them.

“Do you ever… regret? I mean… you know.” Twilight flushed, looking away. “Sorry. I’m trying to follow this book’s advice, and it’s coming out all wrong.”

“It’s okay. We’ve got to talk about it sometime, right?”

Twilight blinked, opened her mouth, and shook her head. “I suppose we do. Maybe not tonight, though.”

“It’s fine. Really. And what better night than tonight? Tomorrow is a new year.”

“Mmm.” Twilight nodded. “So… anything?”

“What do I regret? Maybe that I never knew their fathers… but Sowing Night traditions, y’know.” Twilight stared at her, eyes blank. “Oh. Maybe they don’t celebrate Sowing Night in Canterlot. It’s a fading tradition out here, anyway, and I went the first time to annoy my parents. And became a parent, myself. That, I never regretted. Second time…”

She looked at Twilight and tried to focus her eyes. “It was after this. I didn’t know what I would do to make a living, and I wanted to try and find him again. I looked, and found the same mask again, and wore the same markings over my cutie mark.” She let her eyes slip out of focus again. “But, I suppose if he’d wanted to be a part of their lives, he would’ve tried to guess who I was… or find me afterwards. Or maybe he was there, and didn’t remember me.

“It doesn’t matter either way. I’m… happier now.” She smiled. “A friend got me the job with the Ponyville Post Office, and I threw myself into it, made new friends, took up the odd side-job, and sort of let my connection to that old life fade away. Mostly.”

Twilight was still silent, her pace slowed.

Derpy waited for her to catch up. “So now you know my life story,” she said with a laugh. “Does it surprise you that I don’t know their fathers?”

“A little? But… I don’t know what to say… I meant…” Twilight’s cheeks burned scarlet as bit her lip and shook her head. “I meant letting them go. To school in Canterlot, I mean. Do you regret that?”

“Oh.” Derpy felt her own cheeks warming despite the chill air. “Maybe? I wish they had wanted to go to school here, and maybe Dinky would have if it were just her, but she and Sparkler are inseparable. From Dinky’s point of view, at least. She adores her older sister, and when Sparkler warms to her, it’s the most adorable thing ever.”

Twilight laughed. “You’ll have to show me pictures.”

“Of course! That’s… what? Step thirteen on the relationship checklist? Sharing embarrassing pictures of relatives?”

“Fifteen,” Twilight said with a laugh. “Shining has no idea how many pictures of him mom kept. No idea.” She laughed again, the sound bright and happy. “I don’t know if I ever did thank you for that housewarming gift. Spike thought it was a riot.” She flushed. “That was when you first started courting me, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Derpy said with a laugh. “I was so embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to give you that gift for opening in public. The, um. My mother’s muffin recipe was meant to be the public gift.”

“I wondered about that… Spike loves to make them. They’re the best muffins he’s ever tasted, he says.” Twilight bumped her rump against Derpy’s, smiling. “I thought the book was a gag gift.”

“It, um, didn’t help that I said it was. I thought I was going to die from embarrassment. Sparkler teased me about it for weeks.” She still had the envelope and card in her box of mementos. “But… You’re welcome. And just in case it wasn’t clear… it was a gift given in earnest.”

“I won’t lie… I’ve been reading it a lot lately.” Twilight grinned. “We’re on step nine. Awkward confessions.”

“You don’t say!”

They shared a laugh, their voices carrying back to them after bouncing off houses and shops, their hooves crunching in the snow the only other sound in the night.

Some urge prompted her to add, “Thank you for talking me into coming out. I needed to be out of the house.”

“Of course.” Twilight sidled closer, shoulder to shoulder and wing to wing. “I’m glad to have an excuse to leave the castle for a while, too. Even on Hearth’s Warming, there’s paperwork to do, and I’m tired of it.”

It took a moment for Derpy to get the cadence right, but the gentle thudding counter-rhythm of their hooves ever so slightly out of sync sounded good. The snowpack on the road was heavily sanded, and their hooves found easy purchase. No rough patches to stumble over, no ruts to look out for. For the first time in weeks, she could let herself drift instead of paying attention where she was going. Twilight’s solid presence at her shoulder assured her she wasn’t going to stumble into anything.

“You know you’re welcome to come over with paperwork, or lunch, o-or anything, anytime.” She felt her cheeks heat. “I could bake muffins.”

“That sounds wonderful. I have always loved your muffins.”

They rounded a corner into the market square. It was empty, now, except for a pair of huge sleds drawn up to the front of Sugarcube Corner and the massive snowdrifts streaking out in delicate formations from the edges of buildings bordering the western side of the market.

Snow-speckled forms crowded around the entrance to the bakery, heads raised. They must have been in between songs, because only a quiet murmur drifted from the crowd. Odder, the door to the bakery stood wide open, spilling out a golden bar of light, and letting in cold air.

The entire building was lit up with festive streamers of fey lamps casting rainbows of green, gold, and red across the crowd. Carollers closed their doors and snuffed their candles before leaving, and Pinkie and the Cakes would have been the first to join. Or, Pinkie would have been; the Cakes would be homebound until the twins were old enough to bear the cold.

But there was Pinkie, her bright mane and coat clearly visible in the center of that bar of light, hooves raised as though she were ready to conduct an orchestra.

The crowd hushed.

“What’s going on?”

“I heard there was a late train from Canterlot,” Twilight said, winking.

“But… the blizzard last week… I thought the tracks were closed.” Could she really be suggesting what I think she is? Her steps faltered, the world blurring further. And the mail’s been on hold since yesterday.

“Were. Quite a few students in Celestia’s school aren’t from Canterlot anymore, Derpy. It’s not so easy for them to get home as it was for me.” She grinned. “The students at the school were more than happy to ride in the engine compartment and clear the tracks as they went.”

A figure at the edge of the crowd, almost invisible in the dim light against the white snow, turned, and what Derpy had thought was a snow-rainbow cast by the light of the open door became Princess Celestia’s mane.

“With Princess Celestia to watch over them, of course.” Twilight stepped closer, drawing a wing close over Derpy’s back. “Happy Hearth's Warming."

Derpy sighed, languishing in the warmth of Sugarcube Corner with her daughters and her marefriend keeping her company. Twilight’s friends lingered nearby, laughing and chatting with each other and friends, but staying respectful of the sleepy Dinky with her head tucked up against her mother’s wing.

Once the shock had worn off, she had fallen into the familiar joys of sharing gossip and stories, laughing at jokes, and eating more food than was probably healthy. Warmth filled her, and she didn’t even have to worry what her daughters were up to. They were right there with her, laughing and joining in.

Sparkler had monopolized Twilight’s time quickly, and drew her away to talk with some of the other students from the train. A quick lesson and demonstration followed as Twilight warmed to the role of teacher and taught the impromptu class a simple spell to chill drinks. An odd thing, with it so cold out, but the interior of the bakery would have become stifling if it weren’t for the efforts of the students practicing the spell on each others drinks.

She didn’t even protest much when Sparkler and Twilight had teamed up against her on Sparkler’s drinking of the lightly alcoholic punch, though she kept a close eye on her daughter’s intake. Twilight had more than once stopped Sparkler from refilling her cup, for which Derpy was grateful.

Party games had turned into a general riot of laughter when Princess Celestia insisted on playing each of the winners, and playful bets of cupcakes and candies were tossed about over who would win. To most everypony’s surprise, Princess Celestia had lost a little over half of the time to skilled Pin the Tail players and apple bobbers, and she hadn’t made it look like she had held back. Nopony beat Apple Bloom at apple bobbing, and Rarity dominated Pin the Tail regardless of the poster used.

But the one game Princess Celestia had yet to lose a single point on was the trivia game still going strong by the fireplace. Of course, she only raised her hoof after a considerable wait, and several teams of ponies were edging up on her lead by the time the first students started turning in around midnight.

By then, the bakery was still full of laughter, even if it had toned down, and the music had been lowered to a less lively rendition of the Hearth’s Warming instrumental orchestra, as played by the Canterlot Philharmonic.

Twilight Sparkle came back from the trivia game with Sparkler, both of them laughing after having talked to Princess Celestia. It made her heart swell to see her daughter and the mare she was in…

She shied away from that thought. It was still too early to say for certain.

Derpy met her with a gentle nuzzle and ruffled Dinky’s mane to wake her up. The young filly was halfway towards dozing, and Derpy had elected to stay with her instead of join in some of the more energetic games… not that it had stopped her from participating in the trivia game by shouting out answers. She had a comfortable twelve points, represented as individually wrapped sweets arrayed in front of her.

Well, eleven. Dinky was working on one of them.

“Is this okay?” Twilight nodded at the winding down party.

“Okay?” Derpy laughed and kissed Twilight gently on the cheek. “I may be a little miffed that nopony told me you’d all be here…”

Twilight flushed. “I know I probably should have told you they had a plan, but I wanted to make this a special Hearth’s Warming for you, as a surprise.” Twilight blushed more deeply, shaking her head as her ears wilted. “But there was a chance the snows would have been too deep, even with Princess Celestia helping clear ice. And I didn’t want to tell you, get your hopes up, and then find out they couldn’t make it.”

“I’m not upset.” Derpy pressed a hoof to Twilight’s lips. “Really.” She replaced her hoof with her lips.

“Ew!” Dinky thrust her head up between Twilight and Derpy, facing off against her mother’s marefriend. “Don’t kiss mommy.”

“Hey Dinks, don’t be rude,” Sparkler said, tugging her little sister’s tail and hauling her back. “Mom can date whoever she wants.” Her eyebrow went up at that, and she smirked.

Derpy frowned, barely hiding the smile she wanted to show. “If you think that means you can date that… that…” She swallowed the rest, shook her head, and let herself sink into Twilight’s side, with Dinky wriggling and trying to free herself of Sparkler’s magical grip, and glaring up at Twilight. “I just hope you’re keeping up with your schoolwork.”

“Mom, lay off. Schoolwork’s got me all tied up. No time for dating.”

Derpy lifted her head and cast a look at Princess Celestia, currently talking to an elderly couple lounging near the fire. As if she had heard, or felt, Derpy’s gaze and knew the reason, the Princess looked up at her, winked, and said something that made the elderly couple break into wheezing gales of laughter.

“Sure you don’t.” Derpy leaned forward and ruffled Sparkler’s mane with her muzzle. “Just make sure you do the best you can.”

“How long are you two staying?” Twilight asked.

“Oh. Um.” Sparkler blushed. “Dinks and I promised we would help get the other families to their homes before we stopped. Not just the Canterlot pass was blocked, and Princess Celestia promised extra credit if we helped all the way to the end of the line.”

“That’s generous,” Twilight said. “I remember Celestia loved to hand out creative extra credit. It was… it was a lot of fun.” She glanced over at her old mentor, smiling, and pulled Derpy closer. Dinky, remarkably, didn’t object beyond a glare directed first at Twilight, then at her older sister, still holding her tail in a purple magic field.

“You’ll be coming back, right? Before you go back to school?”

“Of course, mom. And we’re not leaving until tomorrow.” Sparkler glanced between Twilight and Derpy, and shook Twilight’s hoof. “It’s… I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself right away, but mom’s said a lot about you in her letters.” Sparkler’s bob of a nod covered her impish smile. “Good for her.”

“I feel like I already know you so well, too, as much as your mom talks about you.” Twilight said with a laugh. “I’m just lucky I didn’t catch the full brunt of that tackle outside.” Twilight winked very obviously and nudged Sparkler with a hoof. “You really should think about joining the mare’s hoofball team.”

“Haha. Totally… Hah.” Sparkler grinned, shook her head, and prodded her mother gently with a hoof. “So… that’s something I actually wanted to talk to you about. I know you don’t like hoofball, but…”

Twilight sidled closer, displacing Dinky, and wrapped a wing over Derpy’s back. Twilight knew, of course; everypony in town knew what had happened to her. She had been a fast forward for Canterlot’s professional hoofball team, the Cloudhunters, she hadn’t seen the tackle coming, and the other player hadn’t been able to stop her momentum. At least that’s what she’d been told. Derpy had found herself staring up at a red streak on the goalpost, head ringing from the impact, a frantic Cloudsdale defensive rear alternately calling her name and screaming for a medic.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and banished the ringing in her ears with a light flick of her head. That could be her daughter. That could—

“You should see the helmets nowadays, mom. They’re harder than rock, and I couldn’t feel a building if it fell on me.” Sparkler lifted her hoof again, reached out to her mother, and set it back down, looking away. “It’s not like when you played. And it’s not even professional league.”

“Not like…” Her right hoof quivered, but Derpy kept it firmly planted and forced her heart to stay steady, her breathing even. She failed at both, and stared at her daughter. “Why?”

Twilight pulled her closer, nosing her ear, and the scar just below it. Nopony but Twilight had ever seen it. “She came to me, saying she wanted to talk to you, but didn’t know how,” she whispered. “Listen to her. She’s scared you won’t let her play.”

She’s scared? She almost laughed, but looked again at her daughter. The cocky, borderline snarky facade fell away as she pierced the familiar teenage bravado and really looked at her daughter. The hoof twitching on the ground, the ears quivering, not quite still… “She’s scared that I won’t support her?” she asked in a whisper, mostly to herself.

In answer, Twilight nudged her ear again.

Derpy took a deep breath, shoving aside the almost years old trauma, clutched Twilight’s foreleg tight with her own, and tested her voice, “New helmets. Good. That’s good.” Her heart started beating again. “You’re staying safe?”

“Yes. And the team… well, we have fun. We’re not the best, but it’s a lot of fun. And we don’t play national. It’s just for fun.” Sparkler glanced at Twilight, flushing, and nodded sideways at her mother. “And it’s safe.”

Twilight blinked, glancing between mother and daughter. “I, um never played. Or payed much attention to sports. But she’s right. Some of the other students here play, and I had a chance to talk to them. The lower leagues are strictly limited in maximum speed, and they have zero tolerance for overaggressive players. Celestia’s school does participate in the intracity leagues, which are just a step above pee-wee hoofball.” She shuffled a hoof against the floor. “I’m sure it’s safe. Princess Celestia wouldn’t let her students put themselves at risk.”

But there was the unspoken knowledge that any sport involved a risk of injury. But… she had enjoyed playing hoofball herself. The team had been her family, helping her raise Sparkler, and later Dinky, helping her make the best of the nomadic life of a professional hoofball player. They had even helped watch over her daughters even as she went through recovery and discovered she wouldn’t play ever again, that her life had been changed irrevocably.

And she still kept in touch with some of them. Was it any wonder that her daughter looked up to those one-time aunts and uncles?

Can I really tell her she can’t be like them?

Derpy looked between Sparkler and Twilight, held her breath for a long moment, and nodded. “I know.” I miss you. “I love you. I want to make sure you stay safe. And happy. And, if playing hoofball makes you happy… I’ll be happy with you.” Please, Celestia, don’t let happen to her what happened to me.

“So… new beginnings, mom?” She raised a glass of cider. “It’s a new year tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Derpy made herself smile. “New beginnings.” She would have some letters to write. And she wanted to get a look at those helmets. “New year.” She raised her own glass and drank it down in one go.

“Twilight?” Derpy stopped at the intersection that would lead to the castle. “Thank you.”

Dinky, riding on her back and nestled between her half-raised wings, raised her head slightly, shifted, and nuzzled the back of Derpy’s neck. “Go home?”

“Soon, sweetie. I need to see Twilight off.”

Dinky didn’t even grumble at that, relaxing and resting her muzzle into the base of Derpy’s neck, little forelegs hooked over the bases of her wings.

“You’re welcome.” Twilight hesitated, eyes on Dinky. Sparkler, ears drooping from either drowsiness or alcohol, and possibly both, gave her a nudge.

Derpy saw the conflict brewing, and held herself apart from it. Except for when Sparkler had intervened, or Dinky had gone off with some other foals to play the foal version of Pin the Tail, she had kept herself between Derpy and Twilight as much as possible. Twilight, Derpy and Sparkler had spent some time playing at the adult games, and she had gotten some quality nuzzling time in during the first rounds of trivia. But, for the most part, Twilight had respected Dinky’s overprotective attitude.

Don’t let her push you away. She wanted to say it. It had to be said. But… what if it didn’t work out? She gnawed at her lip, working the problem over in her mind, eyes darting between Sparkler and Twilight. She took a step, and paused when Dinky made a grumbling sound and pulled harder at her wings.

Sparkler nudged Twi again, pushing her towards Derpy. “Go on. Dinky’ll come around eventually. You’re good for mom.”

Twilight’s ears flattened, and she stared at Derpy.

“Look. I haven’t seen mom this happy in a while. Yeah, you knew her a long time before you started dating, but the way I see it, she hasn’t freaked out about me playing hoofball. Yet. And that’s huge.” She grinned. “I’ll have to tell ya what she did when I suggested I might possibly, maybe be interested in playing when I was a filly. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t pretty!”

“You were five! I didn’t want you breaking your leg and being a cripple—”

“Mom, please. I’m tryin’ to help.”

“Don’t push your luck.” Derpy bit her lip, swallowed, and forced her right hoof to stay still. “We’re still going to talk about it in the… well, I suppose it will have to wait until you get back. But we are going to talk about that. I want to be comfortable knowing you’ll be safe.”

“Ugh. Fine. Just listen to me.” Even in the cold Sparkler’s cheeks were glowing, noticeable even with her lavender coat. “I’m tryin’ to, uh…”

“Oh, dear,” Twilight said with a small sigh. “I think the walk is circulating the alcohol in her bloodstream more than the party was.”

“Psh. I’m fine! I feel good.”

“Letting you at the hard cider was a bad idea…” Derpy sighed theatrically and took a step towards Twilight. Dinky mumbled, but stayed in place. She must have fallen asleep for her to be so quiescent. Or was simply hiding in the warmth between Derpy’s half-raised wings.

“She’ll drink responsibly. Won’t you, Sparkler?” Twilight asked softly, flicking her tail at Sparkler.

“Psh. You’re not my mother yet.” But Sparkler was laughing, and danced aside from a sloppy snowball.

“I’m serious.” Twilight lifted a hoof and tapped Sparkler’s foreleg. “Drinking is a big responsibility, and I need to know you will drink responsibly.”

“Yes. Fine. Drink responsibly. One drink per hour, maximum size of no more than twelve fluid ounces with an alcohol content of no more than ten percent by volume” Sparkler rolled her eyes. “Please. Memorizing history is harder.”

Twilight’s jaw firmed and raised one imperious eyebrow at Sparkler. Derpy wanted to add her firm stare, or compliment Twilight. She had the stern mother look down to a science. Knowing her, she probably does. She giggled, drawing startled looks from both mares.

“Hah!” Sparkler raised a hoof and pointed it waveringly at Derpy. “I’m not the only one.”

The glare from Twilight intensified, and she added a heavy hoof-stamp. “Sparkler, you’re more mature than this.” Her voice grew softer, but her look stayed as hard. “I will support you wanting to play hoofball, even against your mother’s wish. If you can prove to me that you’re responsible enough to take the risks seriously. Right now, you’re not doing a very good job of that.”

I’m so proud of you… It was an effort to not cover her muzzle, but she couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down her cheek to freeze in the night air.

“Sorry.” Sparkler broke away first, looking down at her hooves. “I know it’s hard for you, mom. But I will play safe. And I won’t drink. Promise. Except for holidays.”

Both of you.

“Good. Now… um.” As suddenly as Twilight had shown her resolve, it faded into an almost adolescent timidity, her ears flattening as she looked down at her hooves, blushing, and back up at Sparkler. “Can you please look away? I’m going to kiss your mother.”

Sighing, Sparkler did as she was asked. “You know I already know what kissing is, right? And it’s not the end of the world if mom falls for a Princess. It’s actually kinda cool. Would that make me a Princess, too? Y’know, if you got hitched?”

Twilight laughed, hiccuped, and shook her head slowly.

“Sparkler!” Derpy laughed, covering her muzzle with a hoof. “You didn’t drink that much! Or you, Twilight Sparkle!”

“Like you were watching me the whole night…” Sparkler muttered.

Twilight flushed, biting her lip. “I was. It’s my fault, but I think maybe I did let her have a little too much. In my defense, some of Star Swirl’s theories require the imbibing of alcohol to properly appreciate their complexities.”

“And insanities. How did you ever get through Intermediary Time Travel?”

“I didn’t! I kept going back to the Beginning!”

Both mares broke down into fits of giggles.

“You two… I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on the both of you, aren’t I?” Derpy sighed, shaking her head. She’s not my little baby anymore. “I’m just happy you’re here right now. I can see we’re all going to have to have a little talk in the morning.”

Sparkler cast a pleading look at Twilight, who dodged it with a shrug.

“I am apparently in the same hot water as you,” Twilight said, grinning and sticking her tongue out. “We shall face it together.”

“You make it sound like a sentencing board,” Derpy said. “How does a date, tomorrow night, my house, for dinner sound as punishment? For you,” she added, tapping Twilight on the chest.

“Woohoo! No sentencing for me.” Sparkler laughed and stuck her tongue out at her mother before addressing Twilight with a low bow. “You may kiss my mother, Your Highness. Mother, I will take my leave… over here.” She turned in place and set about crafting snowballs very obviously.

“Thank you for permission, daughter,” Derpy said with as theatrical a bow as she could manage, mindful of not waking Dinky. “Thank you,” she whispered as Twilight’s breath warmed her nose, “For a wonderful night.”

Twilight’s eyes closed partway as they met in a gentle, slow kiss. It wasn’t mind-melting, or heart-throbbing. And Twilight wasn’t a very experienced kisser, but she was a fast learner.

When they parted, Twilight’s cheeks were glowing, her eyes alight. Derpy felt her own cheeks with a hoof, and found them warm to the touch despite the cold. She giggled, resisting the urge to prance. That would wake her daughter, and she desperately wanted to have some time with Twilight without Dinky coming between them.

Their second kiss came slower, with more than just a hint of heat threading its way around her ears and down her neck. Twilight responded in kind, her wings half-raising as her body shook with reaction. But, perhaps mindful of the company, she didn’t press further, and their lips parted after a hoofful of heated breaths, their heads shrouded in icy fog.

“A-hem.” Sparkler kicked a pile of snow. “I said you could kiss her, not make out with her.”

“Come with us,” Derpy said, the words coming out before she had a chance to think about them. “Spend the night with us. We’ll have enough time before the train leaves to have breakfast and open presents. They’re still set up in the living room, just the way we left them.”

Twilight cocked her head to the side, ears flattening. “But… the castle has…” She trailed off, looking up the snowy street to the glittering crystalline tree looming over the town. Derpy had seen the decorations set up in the castle, more than once. But… she and Twilight had set up the ones in her house in an afternoon, and…

“Please, Twilight.”

“It’s… big.”

“I know it is. I’m asking you to be a part of my family. And I can’t imagine you being happy tonight in that big, empty castle. Your friends might stay part of the night, but what about later? Tomorrow morning?” Derpy reached out to clasp Twilight’s foreleg with her hoof. “My home will be filled with family. Thanks to you, I was happy tonight. It was a good surprise.”

“I want to, but what about…” Twilight nodded at the bundle on Derpy’s back. “I don’t want to upset her.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“Really, Twilight? Mom’s asking you to join our family tonight, and you’re really gonna say no? I’ll talk to Dinky.” Sparkler snorted and flicked a snowball over her back in Twilight’s direction. “Come home with us. I want to talk to you more about Star Swirl’s Ethereal Amalgamation Theory.”

“She could work on her tact… but she’s right. Dinky will come around.”

“Yup!”

“I… I suppose I could.” Twilight glanced at Sparkler, still with her attention ostensibly on the snowbank at her hooves. “I don’t want to upset Dinky. Would she…” She bit her lip, ears flat as she studied Derpy and Dinky, the filly still sleeping on her mother’s back. “I want her to like me.”

“She does. I think she just needs to see that you’re not leaving.” I need to know that.

“I’m not going to.” Twilight leaned forward and punctuated the statement with a firmer kiss, sliding into a nuzzle along Derpy’s neck to lightly kiss Dinky’s forehead. “You have a wonderful family.”

And I want you to be a part of it. The same thought had been drifting through her mind all night, buoyed by her children’s presence, Twilight’s cheer, and her patience with Dinky’s protectiveness. It had underscored the obvious: I need somepony special in my life.

“Will you be a part of it?” She lifted Twilight’s chin up, forcing her eyes into alignment to meet Twilight’s, seeing her marefriend’s widen as she nodded, saw the smile blooming, and drew Twilight into a deeper kiss than she’d risked all night.

“Yeah. We’re a pretty awesome—” Sparkler turned around, squeaked, and whirled back, tail snapping. “Could have told me you were still smooching… lecture me about… what about… need therapy…” She settled to giggling and looking over her shoulder.

Twilight broke off the kiss, laughing. “Yes.”

Author's Note

This was written, in part, as a part of a blog series. This story is the custom-built example for that three part blog series, the first part of which which will be published as soon as the story is.

Blog Link - Negative Space 1 - Definitions
Blog Link - Negative Space 2 - Usage
Blog Link - Negative Space: Filling in Space