The Day After Hearth's Warming

by Skylarking the Stargazer

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Sad, Coco Pommel, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rarity, Other
Length: 3715

Ever since that miraculous day when Rarity's package was mis-delivered to Sweet Acorn Acres, the Nut family's only son, Pistachio, was forever in debt to the one and only pony of Generosity.

"This is a Fedora Felt original! Look at this bold stitching! These daring textures. It's a whole new take on western chic! There is no way I would wear it in the grove."

I could still recall those words floating in my head seventy years ago... But here I was, all alone in this isolated farm once again, collecting nuts, feeding squirrels, back to where I started when I was a mere colt. And through that period of time, a lot has slipped away from me. But what stands out from them all, is the one and only gift I've kept sacred until this very day...

Based off the MLP holiday special, Best Gift Ever.

Edit: Now proofread and edited by the dobermans!

Edit #2: Now reviewed as grade A by the wonderful (and comedic) Vertigo22!

Published 2018-12-28 22:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-28 22:20:01 UTC

Holes That Still Burn

Hearth's Warming Day is finally over.

And yet, it wasn't as if I missed it. So many decades have gone by in a blink of an eye. Times have changed, Manehattan became the fashion epitome around the world, even beyond the likes of Equestria. Ponyville is now a popular tourist attraction thanks to the Elements of Harmony and their young successors bred from the School of Friendship. It told every creature that they're able to hold the value of looking out for one another, no matter how different they may be through their cultural background.

Yet, that was far from the true reason why Ponyville and Manehattan were massively favored by everyone. It was, in fact, done by the radiant superstar who bore one of the elements, Miss Rarity of Generosity, and of course, myself.

Ever since she'd given me that speechless, priceless beauty of a Fedora Felt I could not see myself wearing it. I'd sit with it on the back porch under the frosty chill every Hearth's Warming Eve. Putting it on, I'd close my eyes, and allow my mind to drift away into all sorts of daydreams. I'd have no fear of the threat of frostbite stinging my skin, as my memories gave me all the warmth I needed.

Seconds would become minutes, minutes would become hours, I would draw the broken pieces of my dream all out on sheets of paper. Ma and Pa would scold me for wasting so much material and bits for such 'petty pictures'. I don't blame them, for they've always doubted my career path as a fashionista. They had a point, we live on a farm beyond any convenient reach, and it was more than difficult to make living out of an acorn business. Who buys acorns other than ingredients for nectar soup? My parents must be nuts.

And in their perspective, I was no different from a nut job.

I begged them to at least save up some money so we could visit Manehattan for the sightseeing, and a view of the busy urban life it had to offer. After a series of bickering and coltish begging, I finally convinced them to buy a ride to the grandest metropolis in Equestria.
♣♣♣

Within half a year, Ma and Pa gathered enough bits to travel. By the time we got to Manehattan, my eyes soared to the unimaginable heights of the skyscrapers. It was as if I was an infant again born to a whole new world, full of expandable possibilities. The golden street lights, breathtaking architecture, lively parades and surging events, sublime transportation, stellar mechanics and rapid technology all geared my brain cells back to life. I was already beginning to love the new experience unwrapping itself at my hooves.

And of course, to suit the new and invigorating environment, I could not have forgotten my fedora hat. Who knows? Maybe I can find the single pony who inspired me to come this far.

At my persuasion again, we visited an auction at Saddleby's where ponies were holding a special event: a fashion trend festival. My mouth drooled a river just seeing those words being placed on the entrance sign. Yet once the auction began, I immediately realized something felt a bit off. It was a dirty trick, one of the vilest deeds done by anypony! Without thinking, I blurted out to the entire auction room that the lender's wrongdoing for attempting to sell a fake Brent Black that was secretly hand stitched and repaired on numerous occasions using cheap plastic instead of the original toquilla straw. As further evidence, I showed the small dents and unnoticed stitched lines to the bidders, and boy you wouldn't wanna know what happened next!

The lender was immediately arrested for his immoral dishonesty. And although to everypony's disappointment that Saddleby's venue was temporarily prohibited from further auctions, my keen sense for fashion had caught the attention of a particular mare whose beauty could rival Miss Rarity's. Her double-toned blue mane and tail, sailor collar bordered between white and lavender, and rosy scarlet tie told me it was the one and only Miss Coco Pommel.

Miss Pommel offered me a job as her Bridleway dressmaking assistant, and my heart? Well, it sure raced to infinity and beyond, but I could not thank the heavens and stars for such wonderful luck! A simple visit to Manehattan for the lesser good had turned into a divine meeting with Serendipity herself. It was a life-changing experience that I could not have put down.

My parents? They simply smiled, and I can still remember the day we had our last family group hug before I departed from them. They told me to have faith in my passion, even if it resembled nothing of the family tradition working on the farm. Each day I would ride their encouraging words like whirlwind and get through everything as quickly as I could.

Under Miss Pommel's guidance, I was able to hoof even the most complicated tasks that required needling through jewels and minerals of high-end prices. My ability to learn, observe, design, create, and conduct business had sharpened to the absolute maximum within a matter of four years. By then, I moved out of Miss Pommel's place and went on to open my own fashion business at a cheap estate. It started as a tiny shop with a single assistant I befriended at an unemployment shelter, but soon it grew to massive attention as soon as I—

"Really grandpa?!" Pistachio's granddaughter, Mint Spice, exclaimed in joy. "All because of that fedora hat Miss Rarity gave you?"

Mint Spice's mother, Dawn Strider, shook her head in disbelief. "Up 'till this day I still couldn't believe how blessed you were sometimes, Pa. For what reason would city ponies be attracted to a teenage colt from the farms wearing some trendy accessory in daylight?" She chuckled, the wrinkles on her rosy face folding in and out. "It's just, unbelievable! I could not imagine how you would've had us had it not been such miraculous timing."

"And that's when grandpa went famous like boom! His shops then opened up at numerous locations around Manehattan with twenty salesponies at his service. He would even go meet Miss Rarity herself!" A young colt named Pini Herb, born with a green tea coat, stomped the floor in excitement like his sister.

"Alright you two, Hearth's Warming is over. We've had our stories, and had our gifts. You don't want to disturb your grandpa's resting time, do you now?"

"Aw but mom! It's only been three days!"

"No buts, Mint. We've stayed enough and had our family time together. We still have a long road back home and your daddy needs our help to keep Pa's business running."

"But grandpa Pistachio is the best! Right, Pini Herb?" Mint Spice cried.

"Yeah!" Pini Herb determinedly agreed. "He tells the best stories and makes us the best acorn soups!"

"Both of you! That's enough!" Dawn Strider raised her voice. "Don't make me leave you here with the timberwolves and Ursa Majors—"

Pini Herb stuck out his tongue and sprayed all over the floor. "Country life is the best! I'm sick of the noisy city!"

"I want more peace and quiet with grandpa!"

"I'm perfectly fine with being all alone by myself!"

Suddenly, they heard a loud grunt coming from behind. And to their worst nightmares, the immediate family turned around, only to see a distraught Pistachio slumped down his rocking chair. His facial expression portrayed him as a helpless soul as he held a hoof to his unstable heart. He winced and groaned, as his breaths heated up at a rapid pace.

"P-pa...? Father!" Dawn Strider quickly held the elderly stallion back up. Mint Spice and Pini Herb went up to hug their grandfather's hind legs, praying for the best of him while providing him with the most comfort possible. Pini Herb looked up to his mother with terror in his eyes.

"Mom, is grandpa gonna be alright?"

Their mother said nothing.

"I-I-I..." Moisture formed in Mint Spice's eyes, before a waterfall of tears rolled down her cheeks. Helpless, she tightened her hug on Pistachio's thin leg bone, to which she could hear the rattling inside, dreadfully haunting her.

"I'm scared... Grandpa..."

While I may have told my children and grandchildren my beautiful journey to fashion's pinnacle many times, hearing little Mint and Pini crying for the lifestyle I once suffered with ached me from time to time.

Over time, my fame soared like a golden eagle free across the skies. I would see Rarity more often than not. We would hit up coffee shops and discuss our next big ideas. Through these small talks, we collaborated and inflated our egos (mainly mine, of course). Not only had I became a millionaire, but the respect I'd gained was seemingly endless.

"Oh darling, we're simply gregarious!" She would openly tell me with a sincere chuckle that always left me amazed.

I've lost count of how many autographs I've signed, or the number of times I passed the statue on Bridleway and the graffiti on the Avenue of the Equestria depicting me in the most artistic way possible. I had enough legacy to pass it onto my beloved son Oak Ring as I aged on.

Yet at the same time, I became a monster wearing pony skin as a disguise. I couldn't value the welfare of other ponies that had no positive impact on my interests, that being: my employees, allied employers and companies, and customers. I’d been so caught up in continuing my family's legacy and the wealth that I drove many of those who supported me into joblessness, corruption, and all the immoral sentiments that the Princesses and the Elements of Harmony sought to defeat.

And I paid a terrible price….

"O-oh Miss Rarity..." An ugly cry forced its way out of Pistachio's weak lungs. He was on his knees, staring deeply into the unicorn's azure eyes on the portrait they took back in Manehattan. "Oh how have, have I never apologized to you all these years... My crimes done against my colleagues and friends... I've lost so many of them..."

The floor below him was soon drenched with tears, but Pistachio continued his grieving. "Y-you taught me the way o-of generosity, a-and yet, all I did was to take advantage of others. I've lost everypony's trust, including yours, which broke my heart the most..."

And his sobbing would fill the hollow farmhouse, now occupied by himself and himself alone. The walls and ceilings were dustier than ever since his return to Sweet Acorn Orchard after his early retirement from fashion. His son, Oak Ring, took his family to the Manehattan so he could continue the business of the Acorn family.

Cold droplets slipped off the icicles hanging below the house's rooftop. The old farmhouse, now thick with dust clinging to walls and ceilings, as well as creaking floors rupturing from numerous fixings, was aging just as rapidly as Pistachio's journey towards the end.

"Alas... I regretted every day that passed since your time with the other four Elements... not being able to muster the courage to speak with you, and apologize for my immoral, selfish acts towards everypony."

All alone and shivering from the cold, he more or less knew he deserved such a tragic ending to his journey of a lifetime. What else could've been done?

"B-but let it be known... Miss Rarity, there are two things that would've made you smile without h-having to see me... Princess Twilight shares my pain grieving for your passing. And..." He forced a bitter smile on his shriveled lips as he slowly reached for the fedora felt sitting on his rocking chair. Just like how time enervated himself and his surroundings, the hat no longer bore the western chic he once eagerly claimed when he first received it from Rarity. Instead, it was wormed with uneven holes, stitched wounds folded inwards and out on the crown. The once energetic charisma that would shimmer through the hat’s radiant lust of teal feature was now contaminated with bleach... as if it had white spot disease and as colorless as Pistachio's sightless eyes. He brought the hat in front of him and clutched it with all the energy he had left, mindless of the loose strings dangling off in mercy.

"This hat..." Sobs interrupted his degenerated taste in fashion, as now he accepts anything as the next big trend. "... is as good as ever. It's been well taken care of for seventy years since you gave it to me. I took great care of it and walked with it everywhere I went. And up 'till today, it's still perfectly safe with me..."

"If it weren't for your priceless gift, I would've never opened up my clothing shop again..."

♣♣♣

With the temperature plummeting below zero, Pistachio's crippled mentality wrestled against the bitter frost he had once endured when he was a colt. As was his habit, he put on the hat, closed his eyes, and made sure he was envisioning a brighter future for himself. Of all the plans and goals he once had to become the fashionista he adored, not a single spark of rejuvenation could be birthed to life.

Nothing... He tightened his eyelids for a clearer image, but only saw himself with more moisture from exhaustion. He found little rest through the late mourns and effortless wails.

"There's nothing left for me to do."

Maybe a tinge of the surviving fleck, and a mare with a scarlet tie.

Pistachio's jaw wobbled open as soon as he met eye to eye with the familiar pony. Her white-lavender bordered sailor collar, and her double toned mane. Those cyan eyes immediately reignited the stallion's dwindled spirit. Raising a brow, Pistachio leaned forward for a closer look.

"M-miss Pommel...?"

She looked young and beautiful as ever. Not a single wrinkle was written on her face. Her genuine grin captivated him like the kiss of that metropolis he longed for after decades of isolation. "It's been awhile, Pistachio. I didn't expect to find you here."

"I... I..." Pistachio tried to clear his stuffy throat, only found himself drowning in airlessness. "How did you know... I was here...?"

"I figured you would be, after many years of not hearing you back in the city."

"A-ah..." His stuttering breath indicated a sign of guilt. "I... came back here for a change of pace. I-I don't deserve to move back there for a-all those whom I r-r-ruined... They lost their f-faith in me, and they were right to do so."

"No."

He looked up, only to see the same smile hanging across her face. "They would've forgiven you, Pistachio. You eased their lives, made them prosperous, gave them the necessary needs to live independently. You made them strong, strong enough to lay foundations of their own."

Pistachio opened his mouth, hoping to disagree more. His cruelty and greed that led to the business' social disruption were nefarious, nopony would've spared him an ounce of sympathy, not even the Princesses. He knew that, and he knew Coco was aware as well.

But instead, he chose a different path to take. "Miss Pommel..." He slowly trotted over towards her and reached out his trembling hoof. "Why haven't the forgetful me owed you any gratitude, for all those years you raised me under your roof... Y-you taught me everything there is to know about fashion and starting a business. You were like a second mother to me! And yet I left you in the dust like a broken sewing machine."

He coughed and ached with a pang in his heart. "Oh how self-absorbed was I...? Just how much of a pathetic fool am I...?"

With a graceful swing of her mane, Coco Pommel turned away from him and began trotting down the hill. Indubitably Pistachio followed behind, not minding his inability to keep up with the mare through the frozen snow and the hollering gales sweeping across the orchard.

"Miss Pommel? Why did you stop?"

But she did not stop.

"Miss Pommel?"

She never stopped.

Coco Pommel passed away from a terrible disease called glanders while I was still in business. Yet, I was more concerned with the letters I'd written to my parents that were never responded to. Instead of paying her the tribute she deserved, I hurt the souls of many ponies. And that was when Rarity cut off all communication from me, other than sending her salesponies to keep us in minimal touch.

Being the hopeless fool I ever was, I put my needs ahead of everypony when I betrayed their feelings for the late Bridleway dressmaker. Traveling back to Sweet Acorn Orchards, I went mad searching for their whereabouts. Only to find two flat stones planted on the ground at the foot of the Orchard's hill...

"They've been buried here for an entire year now. Where were you when they needed you all this time?!"

Those words were spoken by a distant friend of my father's who traveled all the way across the continent... to this very godforsaken place nopony cared for. To this day, I have lost three things that made me the great pony I was: my family, my idol, and my mentor. And the worst thing was, I ditched them all for my own shortsighted ambitions. All in all, nothing came right in the end. I've sung before the curtains pulled, which is, a truly wasted effort one could say.

I pitied Ma and Pa forever giving birth to me.

Pistachio silently stared on at the gravestones of his deceased parents. There was no pony to give him false hope, but rather a truly false sense of security to find meaningless sympathy.

"How far have you two came to support me... and I never even paid you both back with a single visit..."

He was right, Oak Ring would always question him about the whereabouts of his grandparents and mother when he was young. And as heartless as the fearsome climate the elderly stallion was facing at the moment, Pistachio never bothered to think about them, eventually forcing his son to follow.

"Neither of you ever got to see my beautiful son... nor my wonderful wife who made my life complete..."

She quietly died giving birth to Oak Ring. The only consequence was driving him mad and beyond. There was no reason to reconcile with his family whom he lost his blessed privilege to see. He won't be resolved through blind love.

With that, he trotted back to the farmhouse and returned to the tombs with flintstones and wood. Piling the wood together, he sparked the flints with a hassle. Crackle by crackle, the natural element slowly emerged to life as it fanned Pistachio the slight warmth he needed. The stallion silently looked on as the passionate flame danced with flaring grace to its only audience. But no matter how daring it was to burn brighter than the distant sun, it could not face the frigidity clawing the air. Pistachio's few remaining teeth, which survived long enough to have bitten on more they can chew, chattered under the unwelcoming atmosphere.

"I-it's time, o-old friend..." He mustered the courage to say. "Everything's... over for you and I. B-but you must g-g-go f-first... I c-cannot allow y-you to suffer here in this accursed place any longer."

He said the truth this time. He knew he lied to her, and he will do it again to his children. Just like his lies committed against his employees whom he once called his "friends". The fire was depressed, it could not fight against the wrath of nature forever. Slowly it will die, and time will win again in the end.

Something must be done, right here and right now.

Pistachio, cold and indisposed, managed to inch closer towards the crackling flame. A quivering sigh escaped his icy lips, followed by repeated sobs pitying himself over his debacles. He held out the fedora felt in front of him, right above the hungry and intemperate demon that was bursting flares with a glowering demeanor.

Reluctant to end their time right away, Pistachio gave the hat one last hard look. The bold stitching. It's daring textures. Although only little of its caliber remained on that worn out linen surface, it still defined the stunning impact on the future fashion industry. It quickly became the central inspiration for pop culture itself.

It wore himself.

"There she goes..." He mumbled to himself. Warm gleaming tears fluttered through him like the last butterfly to the south. "She's dancing away, away into the burning path of the unknown. Like a priceless jewel, buried in dark layers beneath soil and stone. The sheer elegance it possesses even when she's fading out into nothingness."

Pistachio lifted his gaze above the sleeping trees and stared into the undying, yet lifeless winter.

"What you are, is not what you wear. No matter the best clothing I wore, I was a thief who stole everyone's hearts, and eventually the biggest letdown of myself."

He has watched out. He did not cry. For he was Pistachio the stallion who drove the world Nuts.

"I may not have deserved you, but you looked out for me until the end... Even when I'm alone in despair, with nopony to talk to..."

It suddenly struck him that he was one with the cosmos. It could have been a misguided feeling of euphoria, but he only wished for the best for his lifetime accompaniment.

"Enjoy your final journey, old friend..." He closed his eyes. This time he was calm as the frozen ice with a blank space of mind, for he's finally found the peace he cherished.

"May the light find your rest..."

The fedora hat smoldered with the last sparks of fire flickering through the piles of ash, not a trace of it was left to be seen.

Today is the 26th of December, the day after Hearth's Warming.

Author's Note

Originally wanted to finish this the day reads the story title— You know what I mean :ajsmug:

Relax, and have a wonderful rest of your Christmas/winter break.