On the first year of Hearth’s Warming, my true love gave to me
“A signed Wonderbolts flight jersey!”
Flitter beamed as she held the blue and yellow outfit out in front of her. “Thunderlane, how did you manage to get all these signatures?”
Thunderlane gave a modest shrug, but his grin threatened to split his face in two. “Rainbow Dash helped a lot. Soarin also managed to get me into a meeting with Spitfire and Misty Fly. I had to bribe him with a few pies from Sweet Apple Acres, but I think it was worth it.”
“It totally was! Thank you so much, Thunderlane!”
Cloudchaser felt a deep pit open at the bottom of her stomach. She looked down at the set of paints she’d bought for her sister. It was still wrapped. Just for a moment, she thought about accidentally-on-purpose stepping on them, just to avoid the complete shame of having her flank handed to her in the Hearth’s Warming gift-giving competition that she had just decided were happening here.
No. No, she couldn’t do that to her sister. Flitter would love the paint set. Just… not as much as she loved the jersey.
So, Cloudchaser watched as her sister’s face lit up as she tore off the wrapping paper and pulled out the box of paints. She hugged back when Flitter wrapped her wings around her. But one thought kept running through her head. Next year, Thunderlane… next year.
On the second year of Hearth’s Warming, my sister gave to me
“A pair of silver gloves?” Flitter said. “Or… no, I give up, what are they?”
“They can’t be gloves,” Rumble pointed out. “They’re for creatures with hands, right? Like minotaurs. Those things are way too big to fit on a minotaur’s hand.”
“They might be gloves for dragons,” Thunderlane suggested.
“Wrong,” Cloudchaser said. “They’re wing-warmers.”
“Wing-warmers? I’ve never heard of them,” Flitter said.
Cloudchaser sat back, quite pleased with herself. “No, you wouldn’t have. They’re traditionally from the Griffonlands, but I got Rarity to modify the pattern. Try ‘em on.”
Flitter struggled a little with the first one, but she soon got the hang of it. “Oh, wow, these are so warm! I love it!”
Thunderlane laughed. “Huh. I should see about getting a pair, too. Can you actually fly in those?”
Flitter looked at Cloudchaser. “Yeah, I checked. It’s a little harder to change directions, but it works surprisingly well.”
“Awesome! I’m gonna go and try these out right away!” She stood up and all but galloped to the front door. “Thanks, sis! I love them!”
Thunderlane rose to follow her, but Cloudchaser stopped him in his tracks. “Kinda puts your present to shame, doesn’t it?”
“What, the new brushes? I mean… sure?” Thunderlane gave her a puzzled smile. “It isn’t a contest, CeeCee.”
“Isn’t it, though?” she asked, trotting away. “Isn’t it just?”
Thunderlane’s smile faltered and fell. “Well, alright,” he muttered. “If that’s how you feel, I guess.”
On the third year of Hearth’s Warming, my true love gave to me
“New… quill pens?” Flitter asked, confused.
“Special-order from the Badlands,” Thunderlane said proudly. “They’re the best out there.”
Cloudchaser snorted. “Like she doesn’t have pens enough already.”
“Not like these, she doesn’t,” Thunderlane said.
Flitter frowned at the feather in her hoof. “Feels kinda warm.”
Thunderlane passed her a block of wood. “Draw something on there.” he urged. “Write your name, maybe.”
“On wood? Uh, alright.” Flitter looked around. “Can I have some ink?”
“Don’t need any. Just try it!”
Rumble studied the remaining quills. “Hey, ‘lane? What birds are these from, exactly?”
Thunderlane smiled as Flitter put the tip of the quill on the block. A little smoke wafted up from the surface, and as the pen moved along, it left marks singed into the wood.
“Phoenix-feather quills,” Flitter murmured. “Oh, wow!”
“I remembered that you wanted to try getting into woodburning and carving,” Thunderlane explained. “These will be great for that.”
Cloudchaser picked up a quill and glared at it, bending it this way and that in her hooves. “‘Course,” Thunderlane continued, “you’ll want to be careful with these.”
“Well, yeah, they must be pretty valuable.”
“Not as much as you might think, actually. But you really want to avoid breaking them, because they reform the same way that phoenixes do--”
The quill snapped in Cloudchaser’s hooves.
Cloudchaser elected not to be in the holiday photos that year. She didn’t want any records of her singed coat to be preserved.
On the fourth year of Hearth’s Warming, my sister gave to me
“Four malt liquors!” Flitter turned each bottle around in her hooves. “Wow, Cloudy, these all look like really interesting flavors. Mint, licorice, hot chocolate, and… cupcake?”
Cloudchaser shifted awkwardly. “I may have asked Pinkie Pie for suggestions…”
“Well, we’ll crack one open tonight, save the others for a special occasion,” Flitter decided.
“So, uh, I take it you like it, then?”
“Oh, of course! This was a very thoughtful gift, Cloudy, thank you. I hope you like what I got for you, too.”
“Yeah, great,” Cloudchaser said, tearing the wrapping paper off her present. “But was it, like, your favorite present this year?”
“My… favorite?” Flitter repeated, frowning. “I… don’t really know. It’s not as though I keep track, you know.”
Thunderlane huffed and crossed his hooves over his chest.
Flitter’s frown deepened. “Is something the matter, Thunderlane?”
He didn’t meet her eyes. “No. Nothing’s wrong, Flit. I’m just a little…” he paused. “Hey, you hear that? I think that’s the oven going off, I’d better get the potatoes out. Rumble, help me set the table.”
Flitter glanced from one pony to the other. “Am I missing something?” she asked.
On the fifth year of Hearth’s Warming, my true love gave to me
“What is this thing?” Flitter asked, holding them up to the light. “I mean, I can see they’re some kind of gemstone, but…”
“Not exactly,” Thunderlane said, shifting in his seat. “It’s called ‘cubic zircon’.”
“Otherwise known as ‘fake diamonds’ or ‘tacky,” Cloudchaser supplied.
“Hey!” Thunderlane glared at her.
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Rumble pointed out. “I’ve heard Rarity talk about them, and they don’t sound that great.”
Thunderlane stiffened. “Rarity’s the one who recommended it to me. She said it was the only one that would work for what I had in mind.”
“Which is what, making ugly jewelry cheap?”
Thunderlane ignored the jab. “That was part one of your present. Here’s part two.”
He pulled out a small wrapped cylinder and hoofed it to Flitter. She ripped it open. “Is that a laser pointer?”
Rumble raised an eyebrow. “Really? Did you do all your shopping at dollar stores, bro?”
Flitter looked at her two presents. “Huh. Is this some kind of puzzle?”
“A little, yeah.”
She hesitated, then held the stone up with one hoof and the laser pointer with the other, shining the light through the crystal and onto the wall, revealing its hidden message for all to see.
Rumble dropped his new video game. Cloudchaser spat her wassail back into the mug. Thunderlane pulled out the third piece of his gift.
WILL YOU MARRY ME? said the words on the wall.
Flitter dropped the zircon and laser and nearly tackled Thunderlane to the floor. The word ‘yes’ could be heard quite a lot, as could the sound of kisses. Cloudchaser stared at them for a long moment. Then she sat back. “Well played, Thunderlane,” she murmured. “Well played…”
On the sixth year of Hearth’s Warming, my sister gave to me
“I love games with lasers!” Flitter screamed as she charged through the mirror maze, firing indiscriminately at anypony in her way.
Thunderlane gave a massive grin as he watched his fiancee mow down entire lines of competitors. “I gotta give it to you, CeeCee,” he said with a chuckle. “A whole day of laser tag was a great Hearth’s Warming gift.
“Thank you, Thunderlane,” he expected her to reply. “I thought so, too. Isn’t everyone having fun?”
He did not expect her to laugh like a maniac and zap him with her laser. “Boom! Victory for the Cloudster!”
“What the-- Cloudy, we’re on the same team.”
She grabbed him by the collar of his jumpsuit and pulled him so his forehead touched hers. “Not during this time of the year we aren’t,” she growled. “You said it yourself. It’s a great gift. I. Win.”
She ran off cackling, leaving Thunderlane dazed, confused, and more than a little angry.
On the seventh year of Hearth’s Warming, my true love gave to me
“That gown is very slimming,” Rarity observed with no small satisfaction.
“Hm, yeah,” Thunderlane agreed. He stared at it, apparently hypnotized.
Rarity frowned. A half-hearted agreement was far worse than a wholehearted refusal. “Is something the matter, darling?”
“Something the matter.” It was like he had just surfaced from some deep, dark internal pool. “Something the-- no, nothing’s wrong! It’s a great dress.” He glanced at the train. “Rides great on the tail, Flitter’s gonna love it. Uh, once you make the final fittings.”
“Well, I’m glad of that, at any rate,” Rarity said. “If it isn’t the dress, darling, then what is it?”
Thunderlane sighed. “I’m just worried about what Cloudchaser’s going to give her this year.”
Rarity frowned. “If you’re worried that she’s somehow going to give her the same thing, then I can promise you that is a very remote probability.”
“No, no, nothing like that. Well,” he hedged, “not exactly that.”
Rarity’s frown deepened, and she began to unpin the ponnequin from the dress. “Explain.”
“Well, Cloudchaser always seems so determined to one-up me every Hearth’s Warming. To her, it’s some kind of big competition, see whose gift Flitter loves more.”
“My goodness. How long has this been going on?”
He thought about that. “She only really outright said it last year,” he said after a moment. “But she’s been acting weird around the holidays for… well, a pretty long time now.”
Rarity hummed. “And what do you think of all this, darling?”
“Me?” Thunderlane hemmed and hawed. “I don’t know. I mean, obviously I want to get Flitter the best gift I can, right?”
Rarity lifted the dress from his back and, folding it in midair, set it on a worktable. “Thunderlane,” she said after a moment. “I fancy myself fairly adept at giving gifts. Would you be willing to take a few words of advice?”
“Sure.”
Rarity locked eyes with him. “At the end of the day, Thunderlane, it truly is the thought that counts. A cliche expression, to be sure, but cliche for good reason. The best gifts are often not the flashiest, nor the most expensive, but the ones that come from the heart.”
He mulled that over. “So, this dress, for instance…”
“Oh, I daresay she’ll love it,” Rarity said, waving a hoof. “Of course, I suppose I’m rather biased on that front. But is it what she’ll love the most? You can answer that far better than I, darling.”
Thunderlane wasn’t paying attention. Rarity followed his gaze out the window, and her jaw dropped. Cloudchaser was leading four strapping stallions down the road. They were carrying a massive box of chocolates as though it were some sort of casket.
They watched until the strange caravan had passed them by. Rarity recovered first. “I’m quite certain that the dress is still by far--”
“Can you maybe stitch on a cloudstuff lining?”
On the eighth year of Hearth’s Warming, my sister gave to me
“Your mane feels zo silken,” Lotus murmured approvingly.
“Well, you do excellent work,” Flitter replied.
Lotus smiled. “Ah, you are too kind, Miz Flitter. Now, let us begin viz ze massage.”
She rubbed her hooves together, then brought them to rest on Flitter’s back. She attempted to start kneading the area between her wings, but it didn’t respond.
Frowning, Lotus put a little more back into her efforts. Flitter’s muscles were as hard as iron. “My goodness! Vhat kind of stress have you been under?”
Flitter groaned. “Oh, the usual holiday stuff. Buying gifts, getting gifts, decorating the house, visiting family…”
“Surely it is no strain to accept a nice gift?”
Flitter sighed. “A nice gift would be great,” she agreed. “But Thunderlane and Cloudchaser keep getting me larger, flashier, and, well, weirder gifts every year. Then they try to work out which one I liked better. They aren’t even that subtle about it!”
Lotus cocked her head. “Ah… and one of them bought you zis spa appointment?”
“No, they got me a ride on an elephant and a bottle of expensive perfume. I never even wear perfume!”
“Oh.”
“This was Rumble’s present. He also got me a card suggesting the name of a good family counselor…”
On the ninth year of Hearth’s Warming, my true love gave to me
“Nice day for reading,” Spike said drily.
“Isn’t it just?” Twilight said with a happy sigh.
Spike frowned at her. “Twilight, it’s Hearth’s Warming Day. You should be out with your friends, opening presents and stuff.”
“We already had our gift exchange, and we’ll all be together again at the party at Sweet Apple Acres. Right now, I just want to take a little time for myself and read a nice, trashy murder mystery that happens to be set at Hearth’s Warming. Is that so wrong?”
Spike continued to frown. Twilight rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll go out and be social right after I finish this chapter.”
A bell rang. “Oh, I think that’s the front door. Spike, would you go see who it is?”
He sighed. “Fiiine. But when they leave, you’re going out and having a holly jolly Hearth’s Warming, alright?”
“Deal,” Twilight said, already back investigating the mysterious case of the deadly plum pudding.
Apparently, whoever had come calling hadn’t bothered to wait for Spike, because five minutes later, Twilight heard a rapid series of hoofsteps coming down the hall, unaccompanied by the padding step of dragon feet. She set down her book and turned to face the door as it opened. “Oh, Flitter, hi! Happy Hearth’s Warming.”
“Twilight,” Flitter said shortly.
Twilight’s smile fell. “Is something wrong, Flitter?”
“You might say that, yes. Were you the one who gave Thunderlane that book about enhancing magical abilities?”
Twilight blinked. “Er, yes. I mean, this is still the town library.” Her heart began to sink into her stomach. “He said he wanted to look into spells for improving wingpower.”
Flitter shut her eyes. “Improving wingpower, huh?”
“Yes. I pointed him towards a scroll on how to double one’s wingpower…”
“I see,” Flitter said through gritted teeth. “Perhaps you could point me to the scroll that says how to halve your wingpower?”
“...I don’t follow.”
Flitter raised her wings. Both pairs of them.
“...Oh,” said Twilight. “I see.”
“Do you indeed.” Flitter sighed. “I’m sorry, Twilight, this isn’t your fault. It’s just been kind of a stressful few weeks, and then trying out how to fly like this…”
“I understand completely,” Twilight assured her. “Come with me, I’ve got a few catch-all emergency reversal spells that should work wonders.”
Flitter shuffled her hooves. “Well, now that I think about it, there was something else I wanted to ask you about that I really probably should’ve brought up first.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, you might also remember giving my sister a book about summoning spirits…”
There was a crash from down the hallway, and Spike came skidding into the library. He was wearing a paper crown, he was festooned in tinsel, and a candy cane was lodged in his nose. “Twilight! There’s some kinda twenty-meter reindeer ghost attacking Ponyville with Hearth’s Warming decorations!”
“...She might have decided to really try and get into the spirit of the season.”
On the tenth year of Hearth’s Warming, my sister gave to me
“Are you sure your dad is sleeping?” Cloudchaser hissed.
Dinky made a vague gesture with her hooves. “Eh, I know he’s snuggled up with mom, and she doesn’t let go easily,” she said in an undertone. “He won’t be a problem. You’ve got the goods?”
Cloudchaser produced a bag. “What exactly did you need gingerbread for, anyway?”
“I’m spiking the eggnog with it,” Dinky said matter-of-factly. “It’s the Time Lord version of getting drunk, and I wanna see him get totally smashed.”
Cloudchaser frowned. “Look. I have a reputation for having questionable morals about this kind of thing, but that sounds a little--”
“You want to go to an intergalactic flea market or not?” Dinky said, pausing at the door of the TARDIS.
“Yes please.”
“Then forget that you ever gave me this gingerbread.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Dinky smirked. “That’s what I like to hear. C’mon, I already set the coordinates.”
Cloudchaser hurried inside. The wheezing roar of the old police box split the air, but it was already fading away. After a moment, silence spread over the night once more, nothing to see here, move along ponies, go back to bed…
Flitter stared at the object, openmouthed. “So this is…”
“A miniature black hole in a jar? Yeah.” Cloudchaser preened. “I traded it for a bag of gems and a bottle of peppermint extract, both of which are apparently super valuable in that galaxy.”
She cast a smug look at Thunderlane, who was sitting by himself on the couch. Rumble had decided that he was going to spend this Hearth’s Warming with his current coltfriend. Or, as he himself had put it, far far away from the crazy.
Thunderlane scowled and glared at the oil painting of Flitter he’d commissioned.
“Well, it’s beautiful,” Flitter said slowly. “But… what am I supposed to do with it?”
Cloudchaser’s brain stopped. “...Do? Uh, I dunno. I just thought you’d think it was cool. Definitely a rarity.”
“Oh, yeah! Definitely that.” She shook the jar. The black hole stayed perfectly still in the center. “Maybe I should show it to Twilight. I wanted to talk to her, anyway…”
On the eleventh year of Hearth’s Warming, my true love gave to me
Discord paused their piping. “I’m sorry, would you run that by me again?” they said, setting down the bag of frosting next to the life-sized gingerbread version of Fluttershy’s cottage.
Thunderlane looked down. “I-- I want your help. Finding a present.”
A slow smile spread over Discord’s face. “Oh, my. You must really be desperate if you’re coming to me for help, hm? Would this have anything to do with the pocket-size black hole that turned up about this time last year?”
Thunderlane winced, and Discord’s smile grew a little wider. “Well. I’m pleased to say, Mr. Thunderlane, that you’ve come to quite the right place. I can get you things to make that black hole look like the slightly moldy orange at the bottom of the stocking. Of course, there will be a price to pay...”
If Thunderlane winced before, it was nothing to what his face was doing now. “...What price is that?”
His eyes were shut tight now, but he could feel Discord’s hot breath on his face. “I want you,” the draconequus murmured, “to buy me a box of peppermint sticks.”
Thunderlane’s eyes popped open. “Huh?”
Discord pulled themselves upright. “Peppermint sticks. Not candy canes, I need them to be straight. When I started building this present, I swore that I wouldn’t just snap it up out of nothing. No, sir! I’m putting the effort in, and that means using real materials from this plane of existence. Every piece of this house--”
“Okay, deal.”
“Fantastic.” Discord clicked their claws.
There was a flash of light, and Thunderlane saw. No, he Saw. Infinite possibilities spread out before him. To his wondering eyes, what did appear, but a miniature sleigh, pulled by eight tiny reindeer. It was about the size of his ear. Over there, he saw a hippopotamus, and over there, a pair of front teeth, each as tall as a barn.
And there was Discord, dressed in a loud checked suit; loud both in the sense that the color scheme was hideous and the sense that it was booming out Hearth’s Warming carols at a decibel to make ponies flinch. “Well, what’s it to be, hm?” the draconequus yelled ovr the obnoxious music. He pulled out a scale in a feeding trough. “A weigh in a manger, perhaps? Or maybe our new Tanne-balm!”
Discord rubbed what looked like a little tube of beeswax on their lips. The next thing Thunderlane knew, the draconequus was sporting a beard of pine needles. “Anything you could dream of, everything you could ask for-- so long as you’re not one of the wiseacres who asks for world peace.”
“Uh…” Thunderlane said.
Flitter stared, mouth agape. “What is…”
Thunderlane tried for a smile. “I panicked?”
Cloudchaser rolled her eyes. “Points off for copycatting, ‘lane.”
In the bottle, a miniature universe spun on, heedless of the world outside.
On the twelfth year of Hearth’s Warming, my sister gave to me
“Enough!” Flitter screamed. There was a surprised kerfuffle as the entire parade ground to a halt. Wonderbolts froze in the sky. Everything Pinkie Pie had just fired from her party cannon stopped in its trajectory.
Cloudchaser came running out of the crowd, while Thunderlane swooped in from overhead. “What’s wrong?” Cloudchaser demanded. “Do you not like the song?”
“Did somepony get hurt?” Thunderlane asked.
“Yes. To both of you.” Flitter shook her head. Her face was flushed with anger and embarrassment. “I don’t like the song, I don’t like the parade, I don’t like the airshow, and right now, I don’t think I like either of you very much, either! What made either of you think that I would want anything like this for Hearth’s Warming?”
She looked at their blank, shocked faces and sighed. “Oh. Of course, you didn’t. All you thought about was proving to each other who could give the bigger, more memorable gift. Well, congratulations. This year is a tie. You’ve both managed to make this the most memorably terrible Hearth’s Warming ever.”
She turned and stormed off. “I don’t think we’re going to have a gift exchange next year,” she said darkly.
On the thirteenth year of Hearth’s Warming, my loved ones gave to me
Flitter didn’t say anything for a long time. She just stared at the box. When she did speak, it was with a wary glance at all three of the others. “Together,” she said at last. “You got it for me together.”
Thunderlane nodded. “I know you said you didn’t want any more presents,” he said. “But we thought maybe--”
He trailed off hopefully. Cloudchaser smiled, almost a plea. Rumble resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t see why I had to be dragged into this,” he grumbled.
Flitter twisted her mouth into a thoughtful moue. Then, with one quick motion, she tore off the bow and ripped a strip down the middle of the wrapping paper. She held it up to the light. “New brushes,” she said, her voice neutral. “Thoughtful, kind, and fun. This is a great gift.”
She rose from her seat on the couch, and the others all shied back a little. “Not the best gift I got this year, though.”
“That’s… fine, I guess,” Thunderlane said. “I’m glad you like it.”
Cloudchaser actually flinched a little. “Heh-heh, yeah, what he said. It doesn’t matter which gift you liked best. In fact, I won’t even ask who did get you the best gift! That’s how much it doesn’t matter.”
“I think I’ll tell you anyway,” Flitter said.
Thunderlane raised an eyebrow. “Is that actually a good idea?”
Lightning-fast, Flitter reached out and grabbed both Thunderlane and Cloudchaser, pulling them both into a tight embrace. “The fact that you’ve come together to apologize? That you’ve made up after all these years competing? That’s the best gift I’ve had this year. Thank you both so much.”
There was a momentary pause, and then Thunderlane and Cloudchaser sank into the embrace. All three of them stood there for a long moment, basking in the warmth and togetherness of the season.
“Of course,” Cloudchaser murmured, “there still remains the question of what to get you for your birthday…”
