Sneaking, Snacking and Soaring
The plan had been very simple. Which, for a six-year-old Twilight Sparkle, was something of a rarity.
As it happened, the simple plan had been in response to a simple rule, something Twilight thought made sense. During the leadup to Hearth's Warming dinner, when her father and whoever else was helping him were cooking, neither she nor Shining Armor were allowed in the kitchen at all and her mother was only allowed in if she was needed. This made perfect sense to Twilight – while she was aware she had no first-hand experience due to the very rule in question, she was vaguely aware that it took work to cook that much food and they probably didn't want the kitchen too crowded, even if she was sure she'd be able to help somehow.
However, the part that confused Twilight was that the rule also applied on Hearth's Warming Eve, when they would be preparing for the next day's cooking. The fact this was preparation for the preparation of a meal wasn't the odd part, as most families did that – in fact, Twilight was a little confused so few people wanted to apply that thinking to more aspects of life. What she didn't understand was why she and Shining weren't allowed to watch or help. As far as she'd been able to tell from written accounts, there wasn't anything likely to happen that they would interfere with.
As such, she'd resolved, this year, to find out. Admittedly, she could simply have asked her father, but she wanted to get as full a picture as she could and didn't want to risk her father either withholding information, intentionally or otherwise, or alerting him to her idea. So, as far as she could see, the only way to learn what went on at this time was by observing it herself.
Or, at least, as much as she could from within the cabinet under the sink. Which wasn't a lot visually, much to her chagrin, but it had been the only cupboard in the whole kitchen she was certain they wouldn't need to open. Still, the sounds came through perfectly well and she could see a little through the crack between the doors, so she could get a fair idea of what was happening.
Unfortunately, this same view made clear a problem she hadn't considered before taking up her stakeout position. Specifically, she had no way of actually getting out of the room without being spotted and letting them know she'd broken the rules. The three other ponies in the room were all perfectly positioned to cut off any possible escape route.
Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely fair – Granny Brite wasn't in a terrible position, hunched over one worksurface, focusing intently on the small bowl and the six small jars she was working with. The problem was that Twilight knew her grandmother well enough to know that, when she was focusing that much, even brushing up against her would be enough to alert her and ruin what she was doing. So, Twilight would have to make sure to keep well clear of her.
Sadly, though, she wouldn't even be able to get that far, as Aunt Silken Sun had set herself up right by Twilight's hiding spot and not moved for at least half an hour. Because of how close she was, Twilight could both hear and feel her movements as she forcefully kneaded a big bowlful of dough, occasionally slowing down just enough to give Twilight hope that she might take a break, only to then return to her task with greater fervour. Still, if she stepped away for even a little while, Twilight could, in theory, make a quiet break for it.
However, she was fairly certain such a theory would collapse if she attempted to put it into practice due to where her father was. Or rather, where he could be at any given moment. And while she couldn't get a good sense of where he was right then, to judge by the flashes of dark blue across her viewing crack and the sounds of nervous hoofbeats, continual quick uses of magic, the opening of cupboards, ovens, fridge and freezer and a continually scratching quill, she was able to hazard a guess at his location and say 'everywhere'.
“Right,” Night Light said rapidly as he flitted around his kitchen, “so once those are on, there'll be about three minutes before the broccoli and cauliflower are done, which should give me just enough time to put on the turnips provided you and Willow have finished dicing them, which you... should be able to, but just in case, maybe we should move the mushrooms back a minute... no, wait a minute, the sprouts! And I won't be able to do that, I'll need to be setting up the deep fryer so it'll be ready for when the parsnips are done... and Lite'll be busy with the cheese sauce for the leeks... dangit! Silk? Do you think you'll be able to put on the sprouts and asparagus at the same time?”
“Pfft, no problem!” Twilight heard Silken Sun say as she brought her hoof down into the dough hard enough to hear through the countertop. “Night, I may not be quite as deft in the kitchen as you, but I promise I can handle a whole two things in my magic at once. Just as long as...”
“Excellent, that just leaves the green beans and the peas to fit in, plus getting out the potatoes and sweet potatoes and...”
“Just as long,” Silk interrupted forcefully, “as you don't expect us to remember all this tomorrow.”
“No, not off the top of your head,” Night assured her, obviously trying and completely failing to suppress the worry in his voice. “But if we go over it now, then hopefully when I tell you tomorrow, it'll sound familiar enough that you won't have to spend as long thinking about it. Anyway, the beans and peas – we should be able to...”
Twilight blinked hard as her father continued rapidly constructing the plan for the following day's cooking. Until that moment, she'd never really understood what her classmates were talking about when they told her how hard it was to follow her plans and schedules, but the sheer density and constant change of her father's plans were giving her an inkling.
Still, she was just about able to keep up with the many timings being rattled off, even if she wasn't sure what each of the tasks themselves entailed. However, this understanding only served to further her confusion about why she wasn't permitted to take part. Not only was she positive she could help her father with constructing his schedule but, even if she couldn't, she knew that having someone else who could remember things for you was incredibly valuable.
In fact, she knew that from both sides of the equation, since both her mother and Shining Armor would often get her help with that, and she'd often use Smarty Pants' help – that doll was an excellent helper and always attentive. Admittedly, he wasn't usually that quick to speak up and remind her of things, but he was still an excellent aid. Twilight couldn't imagine anypony else as her assistant.
Regardless, she was soon brought out of her musings by a distressed whinny she'd recognize as her father's anywhere.
“Of course, this is all assuming Willow gets back in time for us to even make our centrepiece. Can't have a meal without that, but... how long's he been gone? Dangit, I knew I should have gone out instead! He won't know the shops around here as well as I do, I...”
“But He knows this kitchen even less. Relax, Night,” Silk's voice made clear how little she expected that command to be heeded, “he'll be back soon – this isn't gonna be anywhere near the first time someone's needed jam on the night before. We're not gonna have a Hearth's Warming without Bread, trust me.”
Twilight let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, the idea of a Hearth's Warming meal without the traditional Bread sending a shiver up her spine.
Admittedly, she had heard that some other races found it strange, even silly, that the traditional centrepiece of the biggest Equestrian feast of the year was just a kind of bread. However, Twilight knew there was nothing 'just' about this bread – more than most, actually, having read all about it.
It was a dish that had been created shortly after Unification, specifically to commemorate the event. Not only was the braiding of the bread symbolic of the interweaving of the three tribes, and the circular, wreath-like shape reflective of the strength of them all together, but unlike many meals, it specifically required contributions from all three tribes to make in the first place.
The base dough was made with flour ground from chthonic corn (the name coming from an old superstition that it was not only blessed by the spirits of the dead but fertilized with their bodies – a fact Twilight was astonished her friends didn't appreciate being informed of), a delicious crop that nevertheless needed a lot of earth pony magic to grow properly.
Once the dough had been made, it was sculpted and mixed in with jam made from stratosberries – not only one of the few fruits that could be grown in the clouds at the time but the only one that couldn't be grown on the ground. Admittedly, advances in hydroponic techniques had made many more options available in cloud farms (even if Shining insisted that that 'Hydro-Pon-anything' could only be about some sort of superhero), but stratosberries remained a high-altitude-only delicacy. They couldn't even be taken lower after harvesting until the jam-making process was complete. One day, Twilight hoped to visit Cloudsdale or one of the small sky farms that roamed Equestria and try fresh stratosberries, but she wasn't sure she ever would.
Finally, the bread would be seasoned with a special blend of six extremely magical herbs and spices that only strong and specialized unicorns were able to cultivate. When she'd first learned this, Twilight had brought up to her father that it seemed very unfair that earth ponies had to provide all the bases for the main dough, pegasus just the filling and unicorns only had to make a hoofful of seasoning. That didn't last long, as not only was she informed of just how hard it was to make even small amounts of these plants, but that all three tribes had been known to complain about how much work they were putting into their contributions compared to everypony else.
Still, Twilight couldn't deny that, however, the labour was distributed, the end result was delicious and wouldn't be anywhere near as good if any one of the components were missing. It didn't matter one bit whether other nations understood it; as far as she and everypony she'd ever talked to were concerned, AliCornBread was the best!
“Course,” Silk's voice brought Twilight out of her thoughts just in time to stop her giving a dreamy sigh that might have given away her position, “might be a little more certain if I wasn't the only one working the dough.” There was a pause in her movements as Twilight heard her shake her hoof out, presumably to loosen it up and dispel an ache. However, the movement stopped suddenly before she blurted out, “Wait, I was talking to Night, not...”
“Now, listen here, missy!” Granny Brite snapped, not seeming to notice Silk's attempt to explain herself. “How many times do I have to tell you – mixing up hex-spice is something you need to be incredibly careful with! We're using the fresh stuff, not the dried where the worst that'll happen is the taste getting messed up - these still have most of the magic in 'em! Gotta make sure it all balances out right, stop the ninja-ginger from either getting overwhelmed by or undercutting the strength of the prime-thyme, prevent the chaos magic of the total-nutmeg reacting with the arcane magic of the mystic-sage or the divine magic of the sainted-cinnamon, and all that's not considering the marierose-rosemary – you have any idea what palindromic energy can do to a mix like this? Amounts gotta be exact – you want this whole thing to explode in the oven?!”
There was a pause before Silk spoke, a thoughtful tone in her voice. “Well, I mean, not actively but, well, can't deny it'd liven things up. Bit of excitement for Hearth's Warming.”
Twilight could just about hear her granny's sigh past the loud whimper her father gave at the idea. “You fillies and your 'excitement'! Can't imagine how my Night Light manages being married to your sister!”
Twilight heard a slight growl escape from Silken Sun's throat, making her ears lower instinctively. However, both she and the grownups were saved from an argument by the sound of the front door opening, soon followed by rapid hoofsteps approaching them and the sound of the kitchen door being flung open.
“Okay!” Twilight heard Uncle Willow Wisp snap as he slammed the kitchen door behind him, his refined, nasal voice tense and cracked with frustration. “After twenty different stores that only had the cheapest, nastiest things on the market in stock, I finally found a place that had some properly made jam.”
Twilight heard a set of hoofsteps, too antsy to be anypony's but her father's, run up to him. “Very nice stuff, it looks like. Where did you find it?”
Willow let out a sigh as the jar clinked from his hoof to his brother's, seemingly happy to be rid of the burden. “Oddly enough, it was a small corner store, about half a mile from here. Apparently, he always keeps a crate spare for ponies in exactly our situation.”
Night Light let out a hum before speaking suddenly. “Wait... of course, that'd be Sweet's place, right? Sweet Heart-Deal?”
Willow paused in thought. “To be quite honest, Night, I wasn't exactly in a frame of mind to ask or notice the name of the stallion or the store, but that does sound familiar, yes.”
There was a moment of silence before the sound of magic was heard, followed by the impact of glass on the countertop, Night having taken it out of his hoof just in time to avoid smashing it as the sound of him smacking his forehead with that hoof resounded through the room.
“Of course... of course, Sweet would have some, that's exactly the kind of thing he'd do! Why in the name of Celestia didn't I think of that before, I could have told you and saved all that work and...”
“Oh, don't worry, brother of mine,” Willow interrupted him, his voice getting harder and snippier with every syllable, “I don't blame you. After all, we were all more than a little thrown when a certain someone decided to blow our plans to kingdom come... not that I wish to name names, Aunt Sunshine Seat!”
“All this time, all the delay,” Night continued, not appearing to have heard his brother at all, “and it could have been fixed if I'd just remembered the obvious solution. But it's okay, it's great, it's totally fine,” his speech, already fast, was rapidly accelerating to the point of incomprehensibility, “we just need to rush through the most important part of the most important meal of the most important day and somehow make it work, no trouble, we can absolutely do it, aslongaswejstmksrt....”
As he spoke, Willow continued, equally heedless of what Night was saying. “Of course, after years – endless, agonizing years – of our dear, sweet, oh-so-infallible aunt sneering and spitting at us for daring to use store-bought jam, we finally get her to promise to bring some the hoof-made one she's always bragging about – as if her hoof came within a hundred miles of the process – and then, on the night before... whoops, sorry, can't make it this year, what a coincidence, oh well, have fun with your rushing to make up for it and I'm still superior in every way! Who could have possibly seen that coming, I mean...”
“VELVET! RUM!” Aunt Silk's voice rang through the house, nearly making Twilight whimper at being so close to her shout. “They're double-spiralling again!”
There was a short pause before more hooves rapidly approached the room before entering, and Twilight recognized the sound of her mother's magic smooth down her father's rapidly splintering mane.
“Night, it's okay!” Twilight Velvet said, calmly and evenly. “We've had bigger disruptions than this and you've always managed to deal with them before.”
“But you don't know that!” Night Light blurted out, though his voice was already beginning to slow down from his wife's gentle stroking. “There were always different circumstances, and...”
“And I don't know about the circumstances, but I know you and I know you can do it, okay?”
They were interrupted as the door opened again and more footsteps entered the kitchen, walking up to Willow with the distinctive, heavy impact of Uncle Rum Punch (or would that be Uncle-in-law, Twilight wondered – she had trouble figuring out how that worked). His big hoof could be heard landing on Willow's shoulder, bringing his ranting, which had by then devolved into almost-understandable anger-noises, to a sudden end.
“Who set him off?” Rum asked, the earth pony's deep, weathered voice a sharp contrast to the Canterlot accents of the unicorns around him.
“Aunt Sunshine,” Silk replied and the vibrations of the table resumed as she started working again.
Rum sighed, but Willow cut him off. “And just why shouldn't she, exactly? It's not as if she doesn't deserve some scorn for...”
“Yes, she deserves that,” Rum cut him off, “but she doesn't deserve this much focus and attention. Remember what the therapist said – nopony so awful they provoke that much anger deserves that much space in your head. Say it with me:”
As he said that, Velvet said in unison, “Say it with me, Night:”
“She's not worth it,” Willow and Rum said together.
“We can do this,” Twilight's parents said, the four ponies forming a wonderful harmony with the sentiments.
There was a long pause before Silken Sun finally spoke up. “Is that done?”
A moment's more silence was spent in thought before Twilight Velvet replied. “Yes. Yes, I think it's done.”
“Yeah... yeah, things are good now,” Rum said, the squeak emanating from Willow a moment later indicating he'd been given a squeezing hug. “Will you be okay, Will?”
“Yes, yes, I... I think we'll be fine,” Willow replied, his breathing finally back at a reasonable intensity. “Thank you, Rum and I'm... I'm sorry to drag you up here.”
Rum snorted. “It's fine – the drinks are all well in hoof. Just need to wait until the mulled wine, spiced cider and buttered rum finish heating, then make and chill the eggnog and put together the punch.”
Twilight heard her mother sigh. “You know we're not going to be able to drink all that over Hearth's Warming, right?”
Rum chuckled. “Sure hope not, otherwise I'd have to make even more to keep you supplied until spring. Anyway, may as well head down again – not getting in your way's kinda the reason I set up in the basement in the first place.” He went over to the door before pausing. “Oh, and Willow? I know you'll probably be busy and all, but if you're able to come down at any point, I'd appreciate it – you know how I love giving you the first taste.”
The door opened and closed as his heavy hoofsteps receded.
Granny Brite let out a short laugh. “He's a good stallion, that Rum Punch. I think you've found a heck of a keeper there, Willow.”
Willow snorted. “Well, I'd have hoped that the wedding would be enough of an indication, but I appreciate it. As well as how sure I am that you'd be... mostly as approving if he didn't supply us with delicious drinks with plentiful alcohol.”
“Just as approving, if not more, I promise you,” Twilight Velvet replied, chuckling at his words. “Though... just to check, his brother's not...”
“No, no, nothing's changed – Nut won't be joining us this year,” Willow assured her. “We all agreed that after last year it would be best to... give it some room to breathe, as it were.”
Twilight could almost hear the wince her father gave as he hummed in agreement.
“Still,” Willow continued quickly, “he has sent us some chestnuts, hazelnuts and a few bottles of Nocello... not that we needed more drinks, but hopefully you can appreciate the gesture and the... peace offering.”
“I think we do,” Velvet replied, stepping away from her husband, “but it'd probably be best to keep them in reserve until after the kid's bedtime. Don't want too much alcohol around children... or nuts around Twilight.”
Twilight just about managed to suppress any noise as her face scrunched up in revulsion at the thought. She appreciated her mother's consideration, but she didn't need to worry – Twilight's one, sneakily-taken taste last year of 'grown-up drinks' had been enough to completely put her off the drinks and nearly put her off growing up. And, while the single time she'd eaten nuts hadn't disgusted her that much, the fact she'd swollen up like a balloon full of itchy wool sweaters afterwards had been just as effective a deterrent.
Fortunately, Twilight was saved from dwelling on this too much by something changing. Unfortunately, that something was the doors in front of her opening, light suddenly shining from the room beyond and her mother's face hovering in front of her, crouched low to the ground to look her nestled daughter right in the eye.
Twilight swallowed, about to let out a whimper before Velvet held a hoof up. A moment later, she put the hoof to her smirking lips, silencing her daughter before her horn lit up and picked Twilight up, pulling her out of the cupboard and onto her back.
A moment before she landed, though, Twilight saw that Velvet was the only one who had seen her or was likely to – her granny was still focusing on her hex-spice and the other three were all facing another counter as they started to lay out and construct the bread. The sight almost made her instinctively move her hooves to dart past them while they were distracted, but the feeling of the telekinesis around her reminded her that wasn't happening just in time to stop her kicking her mother in the back as she landed, which she doubted would have helped her case. Still, as humiliating and daunting as her situation was, the fact that only her mother knew what she'd been doing was at least a little bit comforting.
As was the fact that nopony saw she snatch a grape out of the fruit bowl as they passed it and pop it into her mouth. Not technically against the rules, so she didn't feel too bad, and it gave her a brief moment of distraction from her situation.
The two made their way out of the kitchen and into the living room, Velvet taking a moment to locate a place to sit among the many boxes laid out on the sofas and chairs. She turned around before levitating her daughter off her back and onto the floor before sitting down. Twilight knew she'd only put her on the ground so she could get up and decide on a seat of her own, but she couldn't help feeling like she was being placed below her mother to be looked down on and judged. Not that she felt the need to disagree or get up from her lower position.
Her ears flattened against her head as she looked away. The spectre of her rule-breaking hung low and smothering over her head, but for the moment, she found herself unable to grapple with it long enough to bring it up. Instead, her mind slipped off the subject and landed on something she was wondering about.
“How did you know I was there, Mommy?” she asked, glancing hesitantly up at Velvet. “I... I don't think I left any evidence and was very quiet, so I don't know how you could have...” Her eyes widened as a possibility occurred to her. “Did... did you make Smarty Pants tell you?!” Her hoof started trembling with the twin fears of what her mother could have done to make him talk or the idea that her best friend and closest confidant could have betrayed her.
Fortunately, her mother shook her head a moment before she laughed, stopping Twilight from interpreting the laugh negatively. “Oh, no, don't worry, he kept very quiet. The reason I knew you were there was simple – I was looking for you and couldn't find you. You weren't anywhere else in the house, so I figured you had to have snuck into the kitchen – didn't expect that for a couple of years, but still not a surprise. Good choice of hiding place, by the way – the one cupboard Night wouldn't have opened.”
“Oh, um, thank you, I... hey, wait a minute!” Twilight blinked in astonishment up at her mother. “You... you knew I was gonna do that?”
Velvet let out a little giggle. “Twily, I stopped underestimating your curiosity when you added toilet cleaner and acetone to your chemistry set and stained your ceiling pink.” Her mother's eyes gleamed as she grinned, bringing a smile to her daughter's face as well – that incident had been fun, even if the subsequent shame during the clean-up tinged the memory with melancholy. “I always figured a filly as inquisitive as you would feel the need to learn what was happening at some point and wouldn't let a simple rule hold you back for too long.”
Twilight lowered her head and curled her tail around herself at those words. “I'm sorry, Mommy. I... I know I shouldn't have broken the rules... I just... Well, you're right, I just... I just wanted to know. But I... I guess that means you knew I was a bad pony already. I'm sorry, please don't be...”
“Twilight!” Her mother interrupted her firmly, leaning down to place one hoof on her shoulder and use the other to raise her chin up. “I'm not angry and you are not a bad pony, do you understand?”
“Huh?” Twilight tilted her head, hanging her chin off her mother's supporting hoof oddly. “But... but I broke the rules!”
“And you did it in a way that wouldn't bother with or interfere with anyone and you took responsibility for your actions as soon as you were caught.” Her mother's smile never wavered an inch, as if trying to force itself onto Twilight's face as well through sheer solidity. “You did it in the best way you probably could.”
“But...” Twilight shook her head, still confused. “But ponies are always supposed to follow the rules, aren't they?”
Velvet's smile remained constant, but her eyes wandered up in an expression Twilight recognized – what her father called the 'thinking of the good parenting response' face, whatever that meant. After a moment, she rocked her head from side to side. “Well, usually, yes, but not always. After all, if everyone always followed every rule without thinking, we'd never find out if there might be better rules that we can follow, would we?”
Twilight thought about that for a moment. The idea that there might be rules in place that weren't the best ones to follow was a little tricky to get her mind around, but if there were, she could certainly see her mother's logic.
“So, while it's probably not a good idea to throw them all out of the window, a little bit of rule-breaking here and there can be very beneficial. In fact, it can lead to amazing discoveries – if the only thing we ever did was follow the rules, we could never do any kind of experiment, could we? Not even the kind that stain ceilings. And that's the other part:” Velvet's mouth quirked up into an ever-so-slightly manic grin, “sometimes it can be really fun.”
Twilight let out a little giggle at the more natural expression of joy on her mother's face. After a moment, though, she sighed a little. “That makes sense, but then... how am I supposed to know which rules I can break and which I can't?”
Velvet thought for a moment before giving her daughter a sympathetic look. “I suppose there's no way to know for sure, but you'll just have to trust your own judgment. But, if you want a general rule to follow, I'd say to try and make sure you understand a rule – what it is, what it means and why it's there – before you decide whether you should break it.”
Twilight thought for a moment before nodding absent-mindedly, agreeing with the general principle even as her thoughts lingered on her specific case. “But... but, well, this one I didn't understand and... well, I still don't! Why aren't we allowed in there? I mean... actually, no it makes less sense now – they were all so busy and jumpy, we could help them. Don't they want our help?”
Velvet pursed her lips to the side as she thought about how to say what she wanted to get across. “We... we don't want you to have to help... to worry about helping. We... to be honest, Twily, we didn't want you to know about all that work and feel bad about it and like you needed to help. We wanted you to just be able to enjoy the holidays without thinking about all the things that go into making it as happy as we want it to be. Though,” she looked away, a little abashed, “I suppose it was silly to think that keeping our amazing little thinker in the dark was going to work, wasn't it? Still, now that you know, do you think you'll be able to not worry about it all?”
Twilight frowned her little forehead in thought as she focused on the idea and tried to implement it. “I'll... I'll try. I think I can, maybe? If you don't want us to... oh!” she clopped a hoof on the ground as a thought occurred to her. “Should we tell Shiny then? If he doesn't already know, maybe it'll help him to be told and not have to find out like I did.”
The two looked over at the corner of the room where Twilight's older brother sat, the young colt on the verge of his teenage years oblivious to the world as he crashed his royal guard action figures into each other in what could, with a lot of squinting, almost resemble a simulated battle.
“Yeah, I... I wasn't really worrying about him,” Velvet said after a moment. “He hasn't really felt the need to look into it yet so... I think he'll be okay.”
Twilight nodded, not having had any doubt that her BBBFF would be fine whatever the case, but happy to hear her mother's agreement.
Velvet smiled, before tilting her head a little. “In any case, I'm a little surprised you haven't asked why I was looking for you in the first place.”
Twilight blinked. The question that a moment ago hadn't even seemed to enter her thoughts, her mind too preoccupied with shame and confusion to fit it in, was now all she could think about. “Oh! Er, why...?”
“Because I need your help!” Her mother locked eyes with her. “There is a great, vital duty that needs to be imminently fulfilled, and I'll need every bit of help I can get if it's to be done as well as it must be. We simply cannot allow it to remain unfinished and we mustn't delay. Twilight, Shiny, it's time!”
Twilight's eyes widened. “You mean...?”
In the corner, Shining Armor's ears perked up, the words catching his attention even though, a moment ago, it had seemed as if he wouldn't have looked up from his playing if a train were crashing through the house. His head whipped around eagerly. “Are we...?”
Velvet nodded solemnly. “That's right,” she held her expression for a moment before her mouth flicked up into a sly smile. “It's time to decorate the tree.”
The squeal of excitement that emanated from the two briefly startled a dog two houses down the street, but within the Sparkle household, it wasn't anything especially notable.
Twilight and Shining raced over to the tree, looking up in awe and anticipation at the prospect that, as promised, this year they were finally going to be allowed to take the lead on the decoration. Fortunately, the one part of decorating it that wasn't fun, the lights, had already been taken care of by her mother. To be fair, Twilight had never tried the first part of that – untangling them – herself, so that could, theoretically, be fun, but judging by the amount of angry mumblings and maybe-actual-words-but-if -so-they're-ones-I'm-not-allowed-to-hear Velvet typically let out during the process, Twilight was happy not to test it out. Further, stringing them around the tree was not only slow and awkward work because of how the branched-out bulbs would constantly get caught on the tree's shoots and needles, but it required a lot of vertical movement she had difficulty with.
However, that same verticality was just occurring to her in a more general sense, as she looked up at the tree. As she was considering that, she heard her brother speak up from beside her. “Okay, you take the ones for the lower branches, I'll handle the upper ones, okay?”
Twilight let out a slight hmph, the reminder of her height bringing out the streak of competition that sometimes reared its head with Shining. Admittedly, no counter-arguments came to mind in terms of her own abilities, but a thought did occur to her.
“But how'll you get up to the top?” She turned to him. “You're not that much taller, so why would-?”
Her words cut off at the sight of his glowing horn. “Oh... right,” she looked away, her ears lowering in shame as she remembered how much stronger his magic was than hers.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Shining's expression fall. “Oh, sorry, Twily, I didn't mean to... I mean, your magic's getting better, way better than mine was when I was... I mean, you'll probably be able to soon, but... I just figured, until then, maybe I should...”
Twilight nodded, though her morose expression didn't let up. “I guess you're right. You should take care of the higher ones.”
“Oh, I don't know about that,” Velvet's voice came from behind them, their mother trotting up to them. “I know your magic's pretty strong, Shiny, but you know you're not that precise with it yet. Are you sure you'll be able to keep control of it enough at that range?”
Shining scuffed a hoof on the ground as he looked away. “I'm getting better at that.”
Velvet nodded. “I know, but remember that the top is where many of the glass ornaments go. Do you want to risk them?”
Shining hummed. “Well, I mean, we could maybe put them lower this yea-” he stopped suddenly when Twilight shot him a glare. “Okay, yeah, fine, no.”
Twilight nodded. “No. The higher they are, the more chance that if they fall, they'll get caught by the branches. Safety first!”
“And only,” Shining grumbled, his mouth briefly going to the side in a pout before he shook his head, speaking quickly as if to distract from what he'd just said. “But if I can't put them up there and... well, we know Twily can't, so...”
“And just why can't she?” Velvet asked, smirking down at her son.
Before he could answer, though, Twilight spoke up, not seeing the sadness of the answer as a reason not to confront it. “Well, my... my magic isn't strong enough and I'm not tall enough,” she said, not paying attention to the sound of her mother's horn lighting up, “so unless there's a way to get up to the- Ah!”
She was cut off as a telekinetic grip surrounded her torso before lifting her into the air. She hung there for a moment, both pairs of legs hanging on either side of the hold and her stomach holding her body up, before the grip rotated her front up slightly while shifting to provide a solid brace beneath her haunch, allowing her to sit comfortably on it.
Twilight looked around, taking in the sight of the living room from a vantage point she'd never even thought about before. An almost delirious giggle escaped her throat as she appreciated the height. A moment later, she remembered what she was doing... or rather, what they were doing, and looked down, ready to oh-so-slightly taunt Shining Armor about her new height advantage...
...only to see nothing on his face but a wide, warmhearted smile. “Oh, wow, cool, Mom! You should be able to take care of things up there no problem, Twily!” He gushed, his tone betraying nothing but sincere joy at his sister's elevation and enjoyment.
Twilight giggled, before nodding in agreement and thanks. As much as the two of them might compete and play-fight from time to time, Shiny was still her big brother and, though she knew he'd always be supportive and happy to see her happy, that didn't make it feel any less special whenever she was reminded.
Still, the three boxes that were lifted up to her reminded her that they had a job to do. Sharing a solemn nod with Shining, the two set to work.
Twilight dug around in the small cardboard boxes. Two of them were full of small or hollow glass ornaments and baubles, while the third contained wooden decorations that were small or made of light materials. Meanwhile, she could see Shining pulling out the heavier and more solid wooden or glass ornaments for the lower section. Arranging things like that had been Twilight's idea – not only was it safer, as she'd said, but it looked and felt a lot more natural and right to her to have the lighter objects at the top and let them get heavier as they went down.
That said, as much as she knew some ponies liked to make fun of her for having everything in an exact, immovable place, she knew she wanted nothing of the kind. As long as things still fit the right pattern, she was okay with keeping things fairly loose within it, and while perfect uniformity could be correct and beautiful in some instances, there was also an appealing aspect to carefully placed irregularity. She'd seen what ponies called 'ordered chaos', but she preferred to have a bit of chaos within the bounds of order.
As such, she placed the various decorations carefully around the tree, never keeping to any strict structure but making sure every ornament was placed in the perfect place to fit the overall picture. Below her, she could see Shining work, his placements far less considered and more random. She did note a few places where she might want to shift things a little, but she didn't want to interfere with his work too much. Not only was it rude, but she quite liked the aesthetic effect of the careful pattern of the top gradually changing into a more random arrangement at the bottom, the two styles blending into each other as a viewer's eyes went down the tree.
Soon enough, the ornaments were all hung and it was time to move on to the third and penultimate element of the decorations. No sooner had Twilight thought that than a box full of tinsel raised itself to her level.
This time, as the two put the long, shimmering garnish around the branches, Shining did follow the more definite methods Twilight had earlier suggested to him, keeping the tinsel mostly horizontal and not letting it go up or down too sharply. Twilight had seen many trees where the tinsel was going every which way and laid out in steep and sharp angles, which looked... fine, she supposed. However, she much preferred it this way, with the many colours forming layers on the tree, like the striations of a precious stone. Combining that with the lights shining through the needles, reflecting off wood and refracting through glass made for something truly beautiful.
Of course, whether Shining shared her opinions on the matter, was simply indulging his little sister or just liked that this was a little easier, both to put up and take down, she had no idea, but it didn't seem to matter.
Working together, the two had the tree beautifully wrapped up very quickly, which meant it was finally time for the capstone of the whole endeavour. In fact, Twilight realized with a giggle, if the star that was being levitated up to her was made of stone, then it'd literally be a capstone, even if the added weight meant it might not stay capping the tree very long.
She reached out towards the floating star with her hooves shaking in awe at the responsibility. That didn't stop a smile rising onto her face though as she leant forwards. However, a moment before she could touch it, she heard something that made the smile drop off in an instant – a tiny, barely audible moan of disappointment.
Looking down below her, she caught the expression on Shining Armor's face for the fraction of a second it remained before he overrode it with a smile that was just a little too symmetrical.
Twilight's hooves went back slightly as she considered her brother's feelings. “Oh, I'm sorry, Shiny, did you want to do it?”
Shining swallowed hard, his face momentarily warring over what to say before his shoulders slumped. “Well... kinda, yeah, I thought I would when I thought I'd be doing the top part but... no, you do it, Sis!” His smile became a little more sincere even as it was tinged with sadness. Still, it seemed as if he accepted it.
Twilight, however, did not, her mind racing to find a way to make them both happy. “Well, maybe you could hold it with your... with your magic while I hold it with my hooves?” she suggested.
Shining shook his head, though. “No, I'm not that quick with my magic, remember. I wouldn't be able to keep up with you and I'd probably just end up pulling it out of your hooves. It's fine, Twily,” he assured her, only looking like he was half-lying, “you deserve to do it and it's not like I can do it without being up there, so jus- whoa!”
He was cut off when his mother's magic corona wrapped around him too and pulled him up to be level with the star and his sister. Twilight beamed as the perfection of the solution registered with her while Shining simply hung there, his hooves hanging in the air in confusion. After a moment, Twilight reached forward, took his larger hooves in hers and guided them onto the star before releasing him and taking up the other side.
Fortunately, that seemed to snap him out of his daze just in time for the pair to be moved up to the top of the tree. Giving each other a nod, the two slowly, carefully lowered the star down with a reverence normally only seen when a pony bowed to the Princess. Once the final piece had been placed fully and felt stable, the two let go and pulled their hooves away slowly, ready to shoot them back if anything happened. However, to their delight, it stayed perfectly still, shining out like it had always been there.
Twilight let out a satisfied sigh as she and Shining were lowered down to the ground. Once they had landed, they backed away a few steps from the tree and looked up at the beautiful arrangement they made. The sound of Velvet's magic made itself known once more as the switch was flipped for the lights, bringing them to life for a moment before they were deactivated again – the proper turning on of the lights was something everypony should be there for, but a quick test would let them know if everything would work. And judging by the way the whole tree lit up with colours shining, reflecting and refracting from seemingly every inch, Twilight would say it definitely worked. She shared a glance with Shining Armor, seeing her satisfaction reflected back at her, and the two nodded in unison, happy with their work.
However, Twilight was soon pulled out of her satisfied reverie by the heavy Whumph of somepony falling onto a sofa harder than a healthy and lively body should. Her head whipped around to see her mother lying there, looking a little dazed. Whirling her body around, she galloped up to her, confused and worried. “Mommy! Are you okay?!”
Velvet gave her a slow, lethargic smile as Shining's hoofsteps came up behind her. “I'll be fine, honey, don't worry. I'm just a bit tired after using that much magic, that's all.”
“Huh?” Shining tilted her head a little as he came to a stop beside Twilight. “But your magic's really strong, isn't it, Mommy? Lifting us shouldn't be that big of a problem, right?”
Velvet chuckled. “Well, I like to think so, but I wasn't just lifting Twilight for most of that – I was moving and steering her all over, trying to make sure I could keep up with her decorating while also holding her stable – that takes a fair bit of focus. Plus, well, it's not like I'm getting any younger and I did have to lift you as well there. And you're growing fast, Shiny. Pretty soon, I think I'll probably have trouble lifting you at all.”
“What?!” Shining Armor flinched back, stunned and devastated by the prospect. “But... but you'll always be able to lift me up, right? How am I gonna be able to reach high things if you don't...” he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.
He stopped, however, when Velvet looked him in the eyes and gave him a solid, encouraging smile. “Shiny, once that happens, you'll be able to reach them on your own. I think pretty soon it'll be you lifting little ponies or bringing things down for them. Think about how nice it is to have somepony do that for you – don't you want to be able to give that feeling to others?”
There was a pause as Shining considered the thought. After a moment, though, his face erupted into an excited gasp of joy. “I... could be the big pony. I could help ponies like me out. I... I could...”
Without warning, he whirled around and dashed off into the house, his head pointing up sharply as it whipped around, apparently looking for high-up things to imagine getting down. Hearing her mother laugh, Twilight turned around to see her looking after her son, shaking her head with a smile.
However, Twilight didn't pay it much heed, having been only half-paying attention for a while, the rest of her mind busy thinking about something. Or rather, about a lot of little somethings that added together into one big everything.
She thought about all the work and magic poured by farmers and food-makers into the ingredients for one single, albeit delicious, meal. She thought about her father, dashing around and desperately trying to keep everything that went into the big meal in his mind just to plan it out, let alone actually cook it later. She thought about Uncle Willow, trudging through the cold, slushy streets of Canterlot, looking in every shop he could find for the one ingredient they were missing. She thought about her mother wrestling with the lights every year, desperately trying to untangle a mass of bulbs and wires that could only be more impossible if it was covered in thorns and velcro. And she thought about what she was seeing at that moment – her mother, exhausted from having put so much work into lifting her children so they could do the fun part.
It all led to her one, inescapable but horrifying possibility.
“Mommy?” she asked, her throat quivering with fear of what she was about to ask. “Is Hearth's Warming gonna... stop being fun?”
Velvet's eyes widened at her words, giving the possibility far more credence than Twilight would have liked. “What do you...”
“You know what I mean, Mommy,” Twilight insisted, even if she was only half-sure and partially saying it because she didn't want to risk needing to say more than she had to. “All the work all everypony's putting in... am I gonna stop liking everything when I get old enough? Is Hearth's Warming a bad time for grownups?”
There was a long, awkward pause, during which Twilight's mind rapidly started devolving at the possibility. Fortunately, her mother spoke up before she could succumb to despair fully.
“Well, the short answer is no, it's not inherently bad for us and I doubt you'll stop liking it, but... well, I know you won't be satisfied with just that, but the long answer... it's a bit complicated and I need a moment to think of how to put it so there's no misunderstanding, okay?”
Twilight nodded silently, somewhat reassured but still troubled. The two sat in silence, the little filly intently watching her mother's expression for any sign of doubt or realization that something needed to be hidden. She tried to keep her ever-busy thoughts from collapsing again, holding her mother's assurance up like an all-encompassing shield against the scratching claws of the awful possibility.
Eventually, her mother spoke up again. “Well, what Hearth's Warming definitely won't be when you're an adult is carefree. It is a lot of work, there's no denying that. But... Well, to be frank, a lot of it's good, satisfying work, even if it's hard. I mean, it was work for you and Shining decorating the tree, wasn't it? Did that make it bad?”
“But doing that's fun!” Twilight insisted. “A lot of this work definitely isn't fun.”
Velvet sighed. “No, not in itself. Okay, then, think about when you ace a test at school and... oh, right, yeah, those are fun for you too.” She let out a small laugh before her expression snapped into a thought. “But what about that advanced math test you did at the end of summer? Was that fun for you to do?”
Twilight's ears lowered at the memory. “Well, no, not really. I mean, I really think it would have been if I'd known all the stuff I was supposed to do, but... well, I didn't. Still, I did pass it, even if it was only just and it didn't really count for anything anyway,” she finished, perking up slightly.
Her mother lapsed into a long, gentle laugh. For some reason, she always found the circumstances of that test – that Twilight had finished the normal test in half the allotted time, given it in and cheerfully asked for another, with the only other test available being one aimed at a pony three years older than her – very amusing. Twilight didn't know why. She couldn't be sitting in a test without doing a test and it was only sensible for her to stay on afterwards to finish the extra test.
After a moment, though, Velvet settled down and asked, “And how did you feel after you finished it? And when you got your results back?”
At this, Twilight gave a little hop in delight at the memory. “Oh, that felt really good. Like, I did well, sure, but all that work and thought and writing... it all felt good when I thought about it after that, even though I know it didn't feel good.”
Velvet nodded. “So, all that work went into something that worked out well, so you're happy you did it all?”
“Yeah, exactly, but... oh, I get it!” Twilight chirped, smiling for a moment before another thought occurred to her. “Well, okay, that makes sense for a lot of the stuff you do but... well, there's a lot of stuff that doesn't seem like it'd make things better. Like the lights getting tangled or needing to get more jam. That's not stuff that makes it a better Hearth's Warming, it's stuff that stops something that'd make it worse. I don't think that'd be the same.”
Velvet sighed. “Yes, it's not all satisfying but... a lot of it is and the stuff that isn't is worth it, I promise you. And I don't just mean for us – though it absolutely is worth it for us – but... well, it's worth it to have it all ready for you.”
“Huh?” Twilight frowned a little in confusion. “What do you mean?”
At this, Velvet's horn lit up once more, picking her daughter up and pulling her into a hug as she lay on the sofa.
“I mean it's worth it to make sure that you... that children have a great Hearth's Warming. Just knowing that thanks to us, you can have a happy, easy holiday... that you can have years and years without work, without worry, just a lovely, merry time. Just know that, while we're definitely glad we don't have to, we'd do a hundred times as much work in a heartbeat if it meant you could have a happy Hearth's Warming.
“So listen, Twily,” Velvet looked down at the filly nestled in her embrace, “I know you better than to ask you to forget about all that work or not think about it, but I want you to promise me that you'll try not to spend too much time worrying about it or thinking about how you could sacrifice your own time and fun to help. Just let us work and know that we're happy to do all of it for ourselves and for you.”
Twilight hummed for a moment before nodding slowly. “Okay, I promise I'll try.” She looked off to the side, a little uncomfortable at the idea, but still sincere in her promise. However, a moment later, a thought occurred to her. “So, does that mean Granny Brite was doing a lot more than she is now when you were a filly?”
Velvet smiled, a little nonplussed at the apparent non-sequitur, but still answered, “Well, I didn't know Daddy's family back then, but yes, I'd imagine she did. Of course, she's doing less now that she's older...” she trailed off, a little wary about where Twilight was going with this.
Twilight, however, just beamed. “Well, in that case, I'm gonna promise something else!” She looked her mother dead in the eye, schooling her expression into something more serious to reflect the sincerity of her words. “I promise that when I'm all grown up and I'm doing all that work, I'm gonna give you the best Hearth's Warming ever! It's gonna be worthy of Princess Celestia, I promise!”
Velvet laughed and pulled Twilight into a tight, thankful hug. “Oh, I have no doubt about that.”
And so, for a while, mother and daughter lay together, one enjoying a moment's respite from responsibility and work, the other happy with every bit of responsibility and work that had gone into that day, previous days and would go into every Hearth's Warming to come.
Author's Note
In case you were wondering, Nocello is a liqueur made from walnuts and hazelnuts.
Also, would like to thank to my online gaming group for helping brainstorm ideas for what a traditional Hearth's Warming centrepiece could be.
Also, as a result of that discussion, I was originally going to include a brief cutaway to what Celestia's Hearth's Warming actually was, which involved an empty castle, a sofa, a blanket, a microwaved dinner and a year's worth of telenovellas in the projector, but in the end, it didn't really fit in either structurally or tonally. Still, the image made us laugh, so I thought I'd share it.
