“I’m gonna need you to clarify that sentence for me, Pinkie,” Applejack said as she stared warily at her pink friend.
“I said I’m looking forward to a reindeer sliding down your chimney. What’s there to clarify?”
Applejack blinked slowly and absentmindedly sipped at her mulled cider, and said nothing for a long moment.
“Pinkie,” she finally said, “Have you ever heard of the word ‘euphemism’ before?”
“I hardly see what feminism has to do with this conversation, Applejack. Much less it being mine. I’m talking about Santa Hooves!” She giggled and danced lightly in her chair, her matching candy-cane coloured coat and scarf bouncing wildly around her. “I’m so grateful you’re letting me spend Hearth’s Warming Eve at the farm house. I haven’t had one at a place with a chimney since I grew up!”
Applejack shook her head and laughed at Pinkie’s naivety. “Oh, well, that makes a tad more sense than what I was thinking.” She took a deeper gulp from her cup and looked around, enjoying the snow-covered wonderland that was Ponyville. Getting ready for the winter was always tough, but the break given to her by the blanket of snow always made it worth it. That, and spending time with her friends. “So how long are the Cakes gone for, anyways?”
“Just the few days. They’re visiting relatives for the season, and so the shop will be closed. I could stay home, of course, but Hearth’s Warming should be spent with those you love.” Pinkie beamed at Applejack and took a pull from her own steaming mug. “Fluttershy offered to let me stay with her, but I wanted to ask you first. I wanna try and see Santa Hooves!”
Applejack snorted. “Oh, you don’t really believe in that, do ya? A magical reindeer who visits thousands of homes in a single night, leaving toys for those who’ve been nice?”
Pinkie Pie glared at Applejack. “You’re saying you don’t believe in him?”
“Pinkie, our Santa Hooves stopped showing up after Ma and Pa were gone.” She looked down into her cider, staring at the dark orange liquid. “An’ after that first Eve we never really had time to believe in things like magic reindeer.”
Pinkie Pie slid down from her chair and walked around the little coffee shop table to hug Applejack. “Aww, AJ, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
Applejack tore her gaze away from the cider and smiled at Pinkie Pie. “I know ya didn’t, Pinkie Pie. If you still believe in him, then I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’re still more than welcome to spend the night at the farm.”
“Oh, yay! Just you wait and see, Applejack, I’ll meet him and give him a stern talking to about him forgetting the farm for all those years.”
The two laughed together and ordered another round of cider, chatting the cool winter day away.
“Ya sure you don’t want to stay in one of the spare rooms? The beds are much more comfy than the couch, Pinkie,” Applejack said while stifling a yawn. It had been a fantastic Hearth’s Warming Eve, with a delicious meal of various forms of apples. Pinkie had shown up early to help bake, and together the two of them had presented what could only be called a feast. There had been apple cobbler, apple chips, caramel apple cake, brown betty, apple pie, and--of course--just as much cider to go around.
“No thank you!” Pinkie replied, nursing a cup of black tea while laying down under a bundle of thick wool blankets. “I gotta watch the fireplace, and I can’t do that from the rooms upstairs.”
Applejack nodded, too tired from the rounds of singing carols and excessive amounts of cider in her blood to argue. She yawned again, unstifled this time, and called out goodnight to Pinkie Pie before ambling slowly up the stairs.
Pinkie Pie smiled at her as she ascended, and when the candlelight from upstairs went out she returned her gaze to the fireplace. She was so excited that she hardly felt sleepy at all, though after all the drinking she had asked for a cup of tea to help keep her up. Meeting Santa Hooves had always been one of her biggest goals, but after speaking with Applejack the other day, she especially wanted to meet him now. There was a great wrong to be righted, she felt, and as Applejack’s friend, a sleepless night was hardly a sacrifice to her.
She stared at the fireplace, watching as the flames danced and mingled together in their own Hearth’s Warming Celebration. The casual pops and crackles felt like music to her ears. Normally, to sit so still and so quietly would have bothered her, but tonight felt different. As the fire died to embers, she felt her eyelids start to weigh down on her. Despite her excitement, all the food and the cider and the warmth of the fire and blankets soon got to her, and her head slipped down onto the pillow provided to her.
She awoke with a start, and all the coziness that had lulled her to sleep seemed to have vanished. The room was dark now; the fire had gone out, and she could see out one of the nearby windows that gentle flakes of snow were piling high outside. With the storm, there were no stars or moon to aid her vision. The snow had also silenced the entire world outside and in, which Pinkie Pie felt grateful for. Had there been wind, or any other noise, she may not have noticed the hoofsteps crunching on the ice a few floors above her.
She waited patiently, quietly, eagerly. She waited for what felt to her like an hour, and had just started to doubt her ears when there was another scuffle.
It came from the fireplace.
A few flakes of snow drifted down and settled on the charcoal, and then another larger pile slid down. Pinkie watched, hiding all except her eyes underneath her blankets, as soot and ice started to fall more rapidly down the chimney.
After a momentary struggle, a large, four-legged creature with thick and faded antlers slid out of the hearth, covered in bells that did not seem to ring, and a fuzzy red and white coat that did not seem to catch the coal. Pinkie could not control herself, and she squeaked.
“Eee! It’s true! There really is a Santa Hooves!”
The deer stumbled backwards into the mantlepiece before squinting in the dark and then sighing.
“Oh, it’s just you. Hello, Pinkie Pie,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.
“...Have we met?”
“We have met many Hearth’s Warming Eves, Pinkie Pie. Unfortunately, I can’t ever let you remember these meetings; it ruins the wonder and mystery.” He lifted a hoof and wiggled his two toes together, and a shimmering aura like unicorn magic started to glint around it. “It’s always nice meeting you, though,” he said.
“Wait! Wait wait wait!” She leapt out of her blankets and dropped to her knees in front of him. “That’s fine, I understand, but wait! I need to talk to you!”
He dropped his hoof, staring down at her curiously. “I have your gift already, Pinkie Pie, and can’t change it.”
“No, it’s okay, that’s not what I mean. I’m mad at you.”
“...What.”
Pinkie Pie stood up and moved back to the couch, sitting down and giving the mythical creature a stern look.
“Many years ago my good friend Applejack, whose house this is, lost her parents. Ever since then she has not received a gift from you.”
The reindeer looked around the house, squinting. He snapped his two toes together and all the lights, including the fireplace, came alive with a fwuph. “I suppose that is true. I do not remember this place.” He furrowed his brows, thinking. “Ah, I see now. Applejack. She doesn’t believe in me, Pinkie Pie. She stopped believing before her parents went away.”
Pinkie did not release her glare, and said nothing.
“You need to believe in me for me to be able to come.”
Pinkie still scowled, and Santa Hooves felt a bead of sweat run down his neck.
“Ah-- well, I suppose some amends need to be made. Tell me, has she been good, Pinkie Pie?”
“Applejack has never once been bad, Santa Hooves,” Pinkie said, breaking her silence but not her scowl.
“I wonder…” he tapped his chin with his hoof. “There’s still the problem of belief.”
“I have an idea,” Pinkie said, finally relenting to a smile.
Applejack stumbled down the stairs, her head lightly throbbing from the festivities the night before. She was contemplating what to do for breakfast, and what she might need to say to Pinkie Pie to console her that Santa Hooves hadn’t come, when she rounded the corner to the living room and froze.
There, in front of the hearth, was a pile of presents that almost reached the ceiling. They were each wrapped in a unique paper, with different styles of bows and ribbons and tags, but all of them shared one thing alike; each was marked “From Santa Hooves”, and was addressed to a member of the Apple family.
“Pinkie Pie…” Applejack said in shock. There was a snort, and then a shuffle, and then a pink pony with hair crazier than usual lifted up from the couch, half asleep.
“Oh. Good morning, Applejack! Happy Hearth’s Warming Day.”
“Pinkie Pie, you didn’t need to get us all these. How did you even get all of these so fast?”
“What?” she replied groggily, before turning to the stack before the fireplace. “Oh, right! That! I didn’t get you those. Santa Hooves did.”
Applejack stumbled, though there was no cider in her any more.
“What in tarnation… are you talking about?”
“I met Santa Hooves. He was gonna make me forget it, but I gave him a talking to for forgetting you and your family.” She looked at the pile again and then giggled. “I made him make up for all the years he missed!”
Applejack was not listening to Pinkie Pie, still wondering how her friend had managed to afford so many gifts in so little time. She came to the stack and saw a small box with her name, and pulled it aside.
“Go ahead, open it!” Pinkie said, wrapping the blankets around her and watching with glee.
“Ah still don’t understand you, but you really didn’t have to do th-” She stopped mid-sentence, shaking.
Within the box was a little hoofcrafted doll she had wanted, way back in the first winter her parents had gone. She was positive it was the same; she recognized the wood knot that the crafter--long since gone now--had used for the cutie mark. She dropped to her haunches, and started to cry.
“I told him, mister, you got a lot of presents to make up for! And so I didn’t stop pestering him until he agreed to go and come back with everything you asked for over the years. And the best thing is, you don’t even need to believe in him! He’ll still come every year for you and your family.”
“Pin… what?” Applejack said, her tears pattering on the loose wrapping paper on the floor.
“He was really stringent on the whole belief thing,” Pinkie said nonchalantly, getting up from her blanket cocoon and moving next to the silently shaking Applejack. “And so I told him to use mine for as long as it took.” She hugged Applejack hard, giggling. “Though I think maybe this’ll be enough to get you started yourself,” she said.
Applejack finally broke from her shock and hugged Pinkie Pie back. “You’re one crazy pony, you know, threatening Santa Hooves,” she chuckled.
“Happy Hearth’s Warming Day to you too,” Pinkie said.
