“Enter.”
The Wonderbolt’s flight uniform was too snug on a good day. Thunderlane knew the science – it compressed the natural friction of joints and hair, shaving fractions of seconds off race and response times. That didn’t make it comfortable, especially now. Sweat that somehow seemed both frigid and boiling ran down his flank. Normally he couldn’t wait to throw off the outfit at the end of the day, but this seemed like a good time to be by the book.
He stepped inside the office with rehearsed lines only half-formed. By the book meant not keeping the boss waiting, and Spitfire hated it when ponies wasted her time.
“Trainee Thunderlane. Report.”
The title was humbling. He was a Wonderbolt, but stood at the bottom of the top. Not many mistakes would be needed to push him off.
That… couldn’t happen. No matter how this went.
“Ma’am.” He snapped a brisk salute. That was the first thing they taught you – how to salute like a whip-crack without beaning yourself with the hoof. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m…”
He hesitated. There was no military-speak way to broach this. “I wanted to check on my application for leave.”
He couldn’t help but wince. Everyone wanted Hearth’s Warming off. The senior Wonderbolts would get it. The rest would not. But he had to try.
Spitfire lounged behind her desk, examining some manila folder. She spared him exactly one glance. “You’ll get the result in your mailbox, same as everyone.”
Thunderlane fidgeted, feeling a particularly icy patch of sweat slide down the inside of his outfit. “I was hoping for a preview. Hearth’s Warming, you know. Want to have plans for the family if I can’t make it.”
There: he tried. She would say no, Thunderlane would salute and leave. Real life wasn’t a Haymark movie where he would slip out or quit just to be home for the holidays. Rumble would live if they spent one or more Hearth’s Warmings apart. So would whoever Thunderlane managed to saddle him with.
Instead of all that, Spitfire flipped one of the pages. “Hmyeah, okay. You got lucky, Trainee. Hearth’s Warming week was booked, but an officer ended up canceling their time off. Canceled leave days are first come, first serve, lucky you. You can take the whole week if you like.”
A thrill went through his heart. This was a thing to be done so he could tell Rumble he tried. That it actually worked…
A huge, non-regulation grin spread across his face. “Yes! Yes, Ma’am. Thank you!”
“You should have the notice by the end of the day, but you can consider this official.” Spitfire turned another page, as indifferent as ever. “Anything else?”
“No, Ma’am!” Thunderlane saluted, winced as his hoof collided with his skull (hadn’t quite perfected it yet), and beat a hasty retreat.
“Close the door!” Spitfire snarled, her first show of emotion. Thunderlane complied, and she sighed upon hearing him positively skip down the hall with clip-clops of his heavy hooves.
She turned another page, revealing a photograph of Thunderlane. It was his personnel file, and given the military angle of the Wonderbolts, he received a once-over from S.M.I.L.E. along with all of them. Days of well-intentioned domestic espionage had been compacted into a nice one-paragraph report sitting before her.
Thunderlane, age 23: Excelled in primary school sports and academics. Full-ride hoofball scholarship to the Advanced Flight College of Canterlot. Orphaned at age 17. Opted to become caretaker for his brother (then aged 6) in lieu of orphanage involvement. Did not attend AFCC, instead entered workforce as cashier at Barnyard Bargains. Volunteered for weather crew and local athletic teams, appears to have studied and trained informally for application to the Wonderbolts. Passed admission test by narrow margin, entered Wonderbolts ranks as trainee at age 23.
Attendance and discipline are perfect. Commutes to/from Ponyville to training yards (est. 70 minutes flight). Purchased house in Ponyville one month ago and moved family from...
Thunderlane’s head was still in the clouds when he arrived back in Ponyville, passing his house by three blocks on the way to the twins’ when he remembered. No more rent, no more sharing space with the unreasonably tolerant Flitter and Cloud Chaser. Being a Wonderbolt meant good money, meant a place of their own at last.
The house felt too big. A bedroom for himself and Rumble with clothes still stored in cardboard boxes. The twins’ old sofa in the living room. He had crashed there enough times that it felt better than his own bed, especially after a long flight home from a full day of Wonderbolts training. Thunderlane had made a habit of catnapping there after practice, giving him energy to properly enjoy the last few hours of each day.
He stretched, floating himself over to deposit gently onto the couch.
Clip-clop on the wooden floorboards.
“Hey, bro.”
“Hey, squirt.” Thunderlane set his head on the armrest, viewing his brother sideways. “Wait, no junior flight school?”
“Canceled until the new year.”
Thunderlane frowned. “That’s no good. A month off and you kids will be back to huffing and puffing after ten minutes in the air.”
“I’ve been flying home and stuff, trying to practice,” Rumble said. “They gave us some at-home exercises but it’s for babies. ‘Lie on the bed and buzz your wings’ kind of stuff.”
An approving coo built up in Thunderlane’s throat. His little brother was never a serious student, but it was all the other way when it came to flying. He wanted to be a Wonderbolt too, and learned from Thunderlane the best way was to start training young. Ground-dwelling pegasi didn’t usually make the cut.
“We’ll come up with our own routine. Nothing high off the ground yet, wing push-ups and floating barrel rolls.”
Rumble stuck out his tongue – still a kid, after all. “I hate wing push-ups.”
So did Thunderlane, but he smiled. “You’ll need ‘em if you’ll want to fly faster than a walk when you’re older. You won’t be small and light for the rest of your life, you know.”
Rumble kicked at the floor. “Yeah, I know. I’m gonna take a fly around town before dinner, okay?”
“There’s more to flying than the fun parts,” Thunderlane noted with a smirk, earning an eye-roll. “But we can work on those later. Go on, see you soon.”
Rumble trotted to the door.
“Did you get Hearth’s Warming Day off?” he called casually over his shoulder. Like he was a little curious, and nothing more.
“Nope.”
Rumble’s ears drooped and shoulders sagged.
“I get it.”
Thunderlane waited until the door was almost closed before calling out. “I got the whole week.”
He turned to face the back of the couch, grinning as the door slammed back open.
Flitter and Cloud Chaser were Thunderlane’s closest friends both growing up and now. Twins who did everything together and didn’t want that to change when they entered adulthood. Their house had been Thunderlane’s only shot to remain in Ponyville, cheaply renting a room to him and Rumble for the last few years. It had been a strain and a pain the twins never acknowledged, and he would always be grateful to them.
Still, moving out had seemed the end of an era. He had wondered if they finally wanted to wash their hooves of him for two seconds before the invitation to Hearth’s Warming arrived.
A knock on the door was answered with squeals and the smell of peppermint. “Come in, come in! How’s my big strong man?”
They were talking to Rumble, of course. Flitter and Cloud Chaster had gleefully served as his wacky aunts since grade school and weren’t slowing down at all.
“Ah! Rumble brought an escort, and a handsome one to boot...”
Thunderlane chuckled and blushed at Flitter’s light teasing. “Good to see you. Happy Hearth’s Warming, and all.”
He loved to cook, and the week off had given Thunderlane time to work it. His wings balanced his own offerings of homemade hay-bread and stew for the gathering. Flitter helped him set them out in the kitchen while her sister took Rumble on a grand tour of the decorations and tree.
“How’s CC?”
“All good. Bulk’s going to be here, too. Same as Blossomforth.”
Flitter stretched the last name with a wiggle of the eyebrows. Thunderlane had never breathed a word about his crush to the twins, but somehow that didn’t matter.
Still, “Cool. I, uh… hope you’re not expecting much. I’m way too busy these days.”
“With a career and new house on top of everything?” Flitter giggled, possessing the uncanny ability to make it sound both demure and malicious. “I remember when we got this one. Four years later and sometimes I still don’t feel fully moved in. It’s cool, it’s cool. Not tonight, but not forever either, m’kay?”
Thunderland grunted, slipping his stew into the still-warm stove. “We’ll see. I’ve got presents too, where do you want them?”
Under the tree, of course. Rumble’s eyes went wide as Thunderlane unpacked his laden saddle bags, adding brightly-wrapped boxes to those already there. Some with his name, but also ones for Flitter and Cloud Chaser.
Flitter laughed and ogled them alongside the young foal, but CC pursed her lips.
“Please tell me you didn’t get us anything expensive,” she murmured.
Thunderlane cocked one eyebrow at her. “Not by Wonderbolts standards.”
“Come on, you just made it out of the woods.”
“Never would have gotten here without you guys.”
“We charged you rent.”
“You charged me peanuts.” Thunderlane gave the mature twin a broad smile. “I owe you so much. I’m finally in a good spot and there is no way you’re talking me out of sharing it.”
“Hey, I might miss those coupon book presents. I actually used those.” CC flashed him a grin. “Crazy awesome that you got the whole week. Rainbow Dash said you have to be in for five years before you can even think about Hearth’s Warming off.”
Thunderlane nodded. Crazy awesome. Crazy lucky.
Things went from there in a blur. More guests, greetings, laughter. Food and drink and cookies.
And presents, of course. Wonderbolts action figures for Rumble, along with slow-falling hoops for flying practice and a giant box of crayons. The sisters got each brother a nightstand for their beds, while Rumble got Thunderlane a framed poster of him as a Wonderbolt – Thunderlane’s first official piece of merch, though he wasn’t actually egotistical enough to hang it anywhere. Couldn’t tell Rumble that, though. Maybe in the basement. Thunderlane gave each sister a Hemline-brand set of wing scarfs, enchanted to be light enough to be worn while flying. Perfect for winter shifts on the weather team.
And preening gear, for and from everyone. The go-to gift for any pegasus.
One more present came near the end. A jar of wing-rub cream from Blossomforth.
“That brand helped me a lot when I started yoga,” she squeaked, not quite meeting Thunderlane’s eyes. “Try it if you get sore anywhere, it’s not just for wings.”
Flitter draped a hoof around her neck, pulling her closer to Thunderlane. “And now she’s a yoga master! Real flexible, can bend any which way. Why don’t you give him a demonstration?”
More laughter. They did a round of charades, then Rumble settled in to playing with his action figures while the adults caught up. Weather work got compared with Wonderbolt training, and they together debated the pros and cons of Rainbow Dash moving on to the latter. Coffee, cake, and card games. Hearth’s Warming trivia, a slow close to the evening.
Eventually Thunderlane found himself lounging on the couch, with Rumble fast asleep between his hooves.
He smiled drowsily as CC wandered by. “Seems like it’s past time for us to go. Thanks for...”
He trailed off as she snapped open a blanket with her wings and draped it over the brothers. “Oh, hush. One more night with us two isn’t so bad.”
She gave a slight giggle, just like her sister. “Besides, you two look so cute like that. Bathroom’s right where you left it. Want the tree to stay on?”
“Um… yes. Thanks, CC.”
Soon, the sisters were in bed and the house in darkness, save for twinkling lights around the tree. Thunderlane watched it for a time, smiling as the faint glow reflected off torn paper and new toys.
As his eyes began to drift shut, the little form cuddled against him stirred.
“Hey, sleepy.”
Rumble’s eyes fluttered, never fully opening. “We spending the night?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.” Rumble shuffled in place. “Thanks, Bro. For… for everything.”
“I gotcha.”
“Not just the presents, I mean.”
Thunderlane lapsed into silence, now watching the soft form on his foreleg. Small gray head, messy mane. Waiting until Rumble’s soft snores returned before answering.
“I’d do it again, Rumble. Every time.”
Rainbow Dash didn’t so much land on the runway as she did topple, panting heavily. Spitfire set herself down with grace, having completed the exact same drill alongside her.
“Part of good form is a good landing, Trainee!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow grumbled. “Sheesh, did you cancel your leave just to torment me?”
“I heard how much hay-ham you ate at lunch and figured you’d need help burning it off.” Spitifre flared her wings, shaking off the night’s snow in one fast sweep. Her next words came out softer – the friend, not the officer. “Now get yourself to the party. Word of warning, though, roll-call tomorrow is as early as always.”
Rainbow flared her own wings. “I’ll keep that in mind. But uh, seriously: why did you cancel your leave?”
“To torment you.” Their eyes met, and Spitfire gave a broad smile. “Happy Heath’s Warming.”
Author's Note
Happy Hearth’s Warming to all, and especially to Daelyx Len Auphydas. I hope you enjoyed!
