Those Christmas Lights Keep Shining On
It was the night before Hearth’s Warming, and Starlight Glimmer could not sleep.
She should be exhausted, considering she spent all day with Trixie running last-minute holiday errands and talking late into the evening. She only stopped when Trixie answered her question with a snore.
Starlight was disappointed and a little jealous of how easily Trixie could sleep away while she felt like a bundle of nervous energy, just waiting for the chance to burst free and burn out like a faulty light bulb. Unable to sit still, she played the gracious host by tucking Trixie in, throwing a comforter over her relaxed form, and taking the dirty dishes and leftover snacks to the kitchen.
She decided to walk instead of teleporting, hoping the trek there would be the final push she needed for her to feel just a little bit tired. But once dishes were cleared and food stored properly, she found herself sitting in the dark kitchen and burying her face in her crossed forelegs, groaning in frustration.
“Stupid Sunburst,” she murmured.
Now that she was alone she could finally utter that phrase and not feel so guilty. It wasn’t (entirely) Sunburst's fault, her brain knew that, but the feelings of hurt and abandonment refused to go away—not after he promised to be here for Hearth’s Warming and breaking that promise last minute. His letter had been filled with apologies and promises to make it up to her, but the damage was done.
Starlight thought of all the careful planning she put into tomorrow's party, the present she had so painstakingly picked and wrapped for him, all that time and energy felt that it had gone to waste now. Sure, her other friends would be here to celebrate with her and she was looking forward to that but…she has been looking forward to seeing Sunburst the most. What had been so important that he would ditch her like that? And during the holidays no less? His letter had been frustratingly vague on the reason, and she had been too hurt to write back for more details.
Whatever his reasons were, he simply wouldn’t be here for Hearth’s Warming.
She felt a familiar pressure building in the back of her eyes but she refused to release it, instead taking a deep breath and rising from her curled-up position on the kitchen table. Once she calmed down she headed towards the library, figuring that a little reading would distract her from her problems, since her bedroom was out of the question with Trixie in there. They agreed to never sleep in the same room again after that disastrous road trip that almost ended their friendship, though they were in a much better place now, she didn’t want to tempt faith while she was still emotional about Sunburst—it wouldn’t be fair to take it out on a friend that was just trying to help, in her own way.
The library was dark and quiet, the only room of the castle not decked for the holidays. Few ponies used it nowadays so it felt pointless to decorate it, but despite its lack of ribbons and pine trees, the room was as cozy and inviting as ever, especially after she coaxed the fireplace to life with a spark of magic.
Starlight reached for the book nearest to her and settled on the couch, curling up like a cat soaking the heat of the hearth. She glanced to the couch to her right out of habit, the couch that had unofficially become Sunburst’s chair whenever he came to see her, only to find it cold and empty—which was expected, but the disappointment washed over her regardless.
“Stupid, tactless, inconsiderate Sunburst,” she mumbled as she opened the book and buried her muzzle in its pages.
It was easier to hold on to anger than dwell on her dashing hopes, anger was productive, but just barely. She had been so busy fuming that she realized a minute later that she had been staring at the letters instead of reading. Quickly correcting herself, she read the first few sentences and recognized the story: A Hearth’s Warming Tale.
She relaxed further into her seat as she read. It was a cute story, one she knew by heart now, but sadly not as entertaining without Twilight doing the voices for the characters.
She finished the book all too quickly and set it aside, staring into the dancing flames. The story ended with the implication that Snowfall hosted the best Hearth’s Warming parties till the end of her days, she couldn’t imagine herself hosting a party like that every year, once was enough for her and she only did it because she wanted all her friends together. She’d wanted Sunburst to be there more than anything.
He had been so excited too, if his letters were any indication, and still he ditched her, making her feel like he left her holding a festive bag filled with coal. What was worse was that she felt like it was her fault somehow. A nicer, more gracious mare like Snowfall wouldn’t have cared if he showed or not, she would be looking forward to her other guests, to the food and music she prepared for the night ahead, enlightened by the true meaning of Hearth’s Warming. Except that Starlight wasn’t as nice or gracious as Snowfall. She was selfish, conniving, and a little desperate, for she had put her heart and soul into this gathering in an attempt to impress a pony that couldn’t bother to show up. Would a confident and gracious mare like Snowfall do that? Of course not.
Maybe Sunburst was doing the right thing. If she could ditch herself, she would.
“Stupid Sunburst,” she said, and a stray tear escaped despite her best efforts. “Stupid me.”
Starlight closed her eyes and eventually her breathing slowed, her chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern, and she dreamed.
It all began many moons ago in Canterlot…
Snowfall Frost smiled a wide grin that showed her laughter lines, accentuated the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes, and raised her mug to the crowd in the room. “Happy Hearth’s Warming everypony!”
The room erupted in loud cheers just as the clock on the town square struck midnight, the ringing bells chiming a simple holiday tune that warmed the hearts of all those gathered. As the hostess Snowfall was surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers all eager for her attention, she lost count of how many approached her to congratulate her, but she did her best to smile and accept their words of kindness.
After a while, the crowd dispersed and Snowfall put a hoof to her chest, letting out a breath as she steadied herself. Alas, it seemed like her age was catching up to her, she used to look forward to dancing and singing the night away not too long ago, but now all she longed for was the comforts of her mattress in her room upstairs.
But it was Hearth’s Warming, sleep could wait, the ponies she invited here tonight could not. Taking another deep breath, the mare squared her shoulders and went around the room to mingle and play her part.
“Snowfall! Over here!”
Snowfall smiled and rushed over to greet her friend with a tight hug. “Lexie! You made it!”
“As if I’d miss this for anything in the world!” Lexie laughed and flipped her silver mane playfully. She wore a beautiful dark blue dress that made her periwinkle coat even more eye-catching than usual, her outfit was too extravagant for the occasion, but Snowfall didn’t mind, it was just who Lexie Moonshine was: always dressed like she was about to get up stage and dazzle a crowd.
“Where’s Maudlin and Mortar?”
“Oh, somewhere, probably wrangling the grand-foals or something…” Lexie waved a hoof dismissively and sighed. “They gave me a ride here, which I appreciate, but it felt like I was riding a hearse instead of a family wagon.”
Snowfall giggled, wishing she would have been there to see an extravagantly dressed mare exiting a plain wagon only to be followed by an entourage of even plainer ponies. Truly a peculiar sight.
Maudlin’s family wasn’t hard to find. They stood out from the crowd not just by the number of members in their party, which Snowfall counted at least ten ponies at first glance, but by their plain clothing and how serious they were, even the young ones didn’t utter a peep and stood close to their parents, instead of running off like the other foals present. She caught Maudlin’s stare and smiled, which Maudlin returned with a nod before she returned her attention to her family.
It seemed like only yesterday when she and Lexie stood next to Maudlin as bridesmaids at her rather somber wedding. To onlookers, it would have seemed like Maudlin and Mortar didn’t care about the other, but Snowfall knew better, judging by the deep stares, the small smiles, and the way the couple refused to part from the other even after the ceremony. The memory made her smile, even if beneath the surface she felt the ghost of jealousy pass her by.
When Snowfall turned away from Maudlin and her family, she caught a shadow of pity in Lexie’s gaze that incensed her somewhat. “I swear Lexie, if you—“
“I won’t,” Lexie raised a placating hoof, “trust me, I too tire of the same old song and dance.”
The music, the laughter, and the cheerful atmosphere felt awkward in the wake of their thoughtful silence, which always happened whenever the memory of Maudlin’s wedding came up. It had been their last time together as friends, before the incident that pushed Snowfall to the breaking point and made her isolate herself, and in that isolation, she had been close enough to not only dooming herself but Equestria as a whole.
Even decades later, Snowfall shuddered at the memory of the powerful spirits that came to her and the visions they showed her. The epiphany she experienced had been enough for her to put her pride aside and reach out to Lexie and Maudlin, who welcomed her with happy tears and hugs tight enough to bruise despite the years of silence.
However, those had been the only relationships she could bring herself to salvage. The last one, the catalyst, she deemed too broken to even attempt to reach out to.
Besides, he was happier without her, who was she to rip that happiness away?
Lexie opened her mouth to speak but froze, her eyes staring at something behind Snowfall. Her expression went from shocked to surprised to elated as her gaze settled back on her friend and hostess.
“You know, maybe that old song and dance will be better with a new partner.”
Before Snowfall could ask what she meant, Lexie left and headed towards the grand piano, where she preceded to sing her rendition of A Hearts Carol in a way that only a seasoned soprano could. She let it go when she felt a tap on her shoulder, masking her confusion with a practiced smile.
“Ms. Frost, thank you for inviting us!”
“It’s no problem Mistletoe,” the older mare said and accepted Mistletoe’s hug. “Besides, I have been looking forward to meeting your family.”
“And they have been looking forward to meeting you too, especially my father-in-law,” she said with a wink before gesturing to the crowd, “in fact, they are headed this way as we speak!”
Snowfall kept her polite smile, but she was internally groaning. The older she got the less suitors have come to solicit her, which she saw as one of the few advantages of aging. Hopefully, it was just Mistletoe’s way of flattering her, as an aspiring mage she was probably doing everything she could to get on her good side—an archmage that could break or make her career.
Two stallion unicorns made their way to them from the crowd. One was tall and lanky, with a cream-colored coat, green eyes framed by small spectacles, and a bright red mane and tail that was messy and curly despite the obvious efforts of taming it for the occasion. He smiled widely when he spotted Mistletoe and gestured for his companion to follow. The other stallion was much older, his red mane already streaked with gray and a thick beard that hid half his face, the other half was covered by thick round silver glasses that shielded his eyes from her view.
Snowfall didn’t pay much attention to him, too preoccupied thinking of ways to gently turn this stallion down and not hurt Mistletoe’s feelings, if that were to be the case, which part of her was beginning to doubt. Her aching knee and waning eyesight would always inform her of how much she aged, and if she chose to ignore them her mirror would make sure to remind her, showing her the gray in her mane and the wrinkles on her face and neck that seemed to multiply overnight. Whatever charm she possessed in her youth was quickly disappearing, and though she told herself she never cared about her appearance, the change and the ways others treated her now still shocked her.
She ran a hoof over her neck self-conscientiously just as the young stallion leaned down and kissed Mistletoe on the cheek. She giggled and wrapped her fetlock around his foreleg, standing by his side and leaning against him. The expression the stallion gave to Mistletoe was so gentle, loving, and familiar in a way that made Snowfall’s heart skip a beat, struck by how much he looked like...
“Ms. Frost, this handsome rogue here is my husband, Spark Flame.”
“Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” he smiled and bowed. “Mistletoe talks so much about you that I was starting to get jealous.”
“Well, Mr. Spark, you can’t expect me to turn the other way when a powerful mage comes waltzing into town.”
Spark laughed and looked at his wife. “Indeed, she’s amazing and bound to change the world someday with her incredible magic.”
It looked like they had forgotten where they were, lost in their own world as they stared into each other's eyes until the older stallion cleared his throat. Finally noticing the stares they were receiving, the couple laughed awkwardly and composed themselves. “Yes, hmm, right, oh! May I present you my father, Sunshower.” Spark grinned and said with mock secrecy. “Between you and me, he’s been the one most excited to see you tonight.”
Spark kept talking but his words fell on deaf ears from the moment he uttered Sunshower’s name. Snowfall stared at him with wide eyes. He’d changed and yet she couldn’t believe that she didn’t recognize him at first. His mane and coat had lost some of their shine, dulled with age, his body wasn’t as lean as it once was, he looked tired and yet, that glimmer of intelligence in his blue eyes told her that his mind was as sharp as ever.
Sunshower looked back at her with equal fascination, taking tally of all the changes she suffered since the time they had been apart, most likely. She felt self-conscientious, did he like what he saw? Or was he disgusted by how much she aged?
“No way!” Mistletoe gasped loudly, making Snowfall jump in place. “Is that Lexie? The Lexie Moonshine!? I need to get her autograph!”
Mistletoe dragged Spark with her, despite his protests, dropping a hasty bow before he was swept away to the crowd surrounding the grand piano playing Hearth’s Warming carols.
Snowfall panicked, not knowing what to do. What was the social etiquette to follow when one runs into their former betrothed? One you had cast away so cruelly and thought you’d never see again? Who probably had every reason to hate you and curse your name?
“You...You still go by Frost?”
His voice was as gentle as she remembered, but it was deeper, more gravely. She glanced down at his left coat pocket, where he used to hide his smoking pipe when they were courting, she wondered if he still indulged in that habit—and the pipe she kept in her office drawer that she never got the chance to gift him.
“I, huh, yes, I never married.” She said lamely, trailing off.
“Oh.”
She stole a glance at his face, but he had conspicuously looked away, making it hard to tell if he was relieved, or if he didn’t care at all.
“Your son is very...forthcoming,” Snowfall commented. “He takes after you.”
Sunshower snorted. “Everypony tells me that, but I could never see it. All I see is his mother.”
Snowfall nodded, eyes sweeping the crowd and wondering who was the lucky mare. “Is Mrs. Sunshower joining us tonight?”
“No,” he said, still avoiding her eyes. “She passed away a few years ago. Consumption.”
“Oh, Sunshower, I’m so sorry,” she said and found herself meaning it.
He accepted her condolences and they both fell silent. The noise of the party surrounded them, the cheery atmosphere at odds with her racing heart and the tumultuous thoughts in her head. She had given up hope so long ago, and part of her was angry at him for showing up now, when she was old, tired, and with nothing to offer but years of regret.
She couldn’t help but think he’d come back to rub his happiness in her face, the happiness she couldn’t give him all those years ago, but his uneasy expression told her otherwise. He looked so anxious, even though he was desperately hiding it—even after all these years he still had the habit of fiddling with his coat when he was nervous. Or maybe she was looking into this too much and he was, in fact, uncomfortable in her presence.
Snowfall sighed through her nose. She was too old to play these games and tired of second-guessing herself. If he didn’t want her company, she wouldn’t make him suffer through it anymore.
The mare cleared her throat and dropped to a curtsy. “Mr. Sunshower, it was a pleasure to—“
“Wait!”
He reached out to grab her foreleg, stopping her mid-curtsy. She looked up, her expression mirroring his and she slowly stood up, waiting.
“Forgive me, I…” he took a deep breath and sighed. “Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?”
She hesitated, studying his expression, and after seeing nothing dark betraying his intentions, she nodded. “Follow me.”
If they had been younger, it would have caused quite the scandal for an unmarried mare and stallion to sneak off like this—one of the advantages of age it seemed was a heavy benefit of the doubt. They caught some curious glances, but those who saw them didn’t seem to care and shrugged it off to continue with the party.
She led him down the hall from the party and to her office. The room was dark and cold until she brought the fireplace to life with her magic, turning on the lights as she went. Once the room was bright Snowfall sat by the fire and offered him the seat across from hers, a couch that was a twin to hers in making and design.
Sunshower hesitated but eventually took the offered seat. “This room,” he said slowly, still looking around. “Has changed a lot since the last time I been here.”
Snowfall blinked. “Last time?”
“It was here when we...said goodbye, I think.”
A hot flash of embarrassment lighted up her cheeks, recalling that night—the screaming, the tears, the fighting, and the slam of the door that announced Sunshower’s departure from her life until tonight. He was right, it had been in this room many years ago. A lifetime ago that was now reflected in the room's decor, the walls filled with a lifelong of achievements and memories she made without him which he was now studying intently, staring at the latest pictures she framed over the fireplace.
“If it makes you uncomfortable we can discuss this somewhere else.”
“No, it’s alright. It’s fitting I suppose, to speak in the place where it all ended.”
“It would be—depending on your intentions,” Snowfall said. “If all you wanted was to say goodbye, the last one you gave me and the three decades of silence that followed were more than enough.”
The light of the fire made the shadows on his face longer, making his expression hard to read. “I’m glad to see you again, but why come here? After everything? What is there to say after so long? I was...such a horrible mare back then, you were better off without me.”
He looked up, confusion furrowing his brow. “Snowfall, I would never…” He paused, sighed, and shook his head. “I guess I just wanted to see you and...and maybe look for some closure.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Snowfall nodded. “I’ve caused you a great amount of pain, and sorry feels so short, but that’s all I can offer you now: I’m sorry, for ending things as I did.”
His expression softened, but it was easy to tell that he wasn’t satisfied. “Snowfall, why did you break off the engagement?”
Snowfall looked away, staring at the fireplace and the lively flames inside, gathering her thoughts. He must have mistook her silence for reluctance for he leaned in, nearly sitting at the edge of his seat and pressed on.
“Did I offend you? Mistreated you?” He asked, looking almost desperate. “Was there somepony else?”
“No!” Snowfall said, nearly shouting. “No, there never was. It was only you.”
“Then why?”
Her mouth felt dry, and she wished she had snagged a drink before coming here, but she swallowed and spoke. “It was because I lost sight of my goal, or at least I thought I was,” Snowfall said. “I...I went to see Professor Flintheart...to invite him to our wedding.”
His expression was a curious mixture of surprise, anger, and understanding, as if he found the missing piece of a puzzle that had eluded him for far too long. “So you went behind my back to invite the one pony I didn’t want there.”
“I know.”
“Why would you do that?” Sunshower said, exasperated. “Snowfall, that stallion had a black hole for a heart—the only good deed he ever did was raising you.”
Snowfall bristled. “That’s the thing, he raised me! He was the closest thing to a father I know—what’s wrong with a bride wanting to have her father on her wedding day?”
The burning log in the fire crumbled with a loud crack, snapping them both out of their anger and back to the present, thirty years from when the original argument took place. The emotion left her and Snowfall never felt so old.
“Right,” Sunshower said, sitting back and looking as tired as she felt. “What happened then?”
“It was a disaster,” Snowfall said, “I thought he'd be pleased with the news, but he berated me, telling me that he didn’t raise me to be...ordinary, it was awful, I never seen him so angry.” Flintheart had used harsher words than that, telling her she might as well work the streets if she was going to throw her future away for marriage, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the hatred Sunshower already felt for him. “He kicked me out, telling me not to come back until I made something of myself. Then he died a few days later.”
“Snowfall, by Luna, I had no idea…” He reached into his pocket and offered her a handkerchief. Once she calmed down and her tears had dried he asked. “But I still don’t understand why you did what you did.”
“I know that what I did was wrong, but at the time I took his words to heart,” she said with a heavy sigh filled with regret. “I thought that my friends, that you...were wasting my time, distracting me from my goal of bettering Equestria. So I distanced myself from Lexie and Maudlin and sent you that letter, but I didn’t expect that you—”
Sunshower threw his head back and laughed. “You ended our engagement through a letter! You honestly thought that I wouldn’t come here looking for answers!?”
“I didn’t expect you to jump my fence and break my door down at two in the morning!”
“I knew you weren’t asleep anyways,” he said with a sad smile. “Your research always took priority over everything…” The words over me, over us, remained unsaid but hung in the air alongside the years they were forced to live and grow apart.
“My mission never changed, you know, but I had gone about it the wrong way and I almost…” she stopped and shook her head. Perhaps the tale of that Hearth’s Warming was better saved for another day...if there was to be another day between them. “I’m so sorry, Sunshower. I was horrible to you, I hurt you, I tossed away the most important thing in my life and ruined everything—!”
She burst into tears, crying like she hadn’t cried in years, releasing years of sadness and regret she'd forgotten she had been carrying this whole time. Whatever hope there was in stemming the flood was ruined when Sunshower wrapped his forelegs around her, drawing her to his chest as she cried. She hugged him back fiercely, holding on to him the way she should have all those years ago. He didn’t protest as she heaved and sobbed into his coat, leaving a damp spot on the fabric.
She pulled away once she calmed down, unable to meet his eyes as shame washed over her. Crying like that was unbecoming for a mare her age, but she drew comfort in the fact that Sunshower kept his hooves around her shoulders in a comforting embrace.
“Sunshower, will you ever forgive me?”
“Eventually,” he said.
She nodded, not expecting any less, but elated just the same.
“I will do my best to earn your forgiveness.” She said. “How long will you be in town?”
“I’m planning on moving here,” he said, causing Snowfall to look up in surprise, and he smiled down at her. “Spark insisted I moved closer to him, though I admit I was reluctant when he told me where he and Mistletoe would be moving.”
“I’m sorry...”
“It’s alright, it’s more than alright now and...”
“And?”
“Well,” Sunshower looked at her with the same kind, gentle expression he used to give her all those years ago, “can I just say that you’re still as beautiful as the last time I saw you?”
Snowfall laughed, a true, joyful laugh, and hugged him tightly. Happy tears rolled down her face as she leaned in, Sunshower’s lips only inches from hers as he—
“Starlight? Starlight!”
Starlight jumped, sending the book tumbling from her lap to the floor, looking around with bleary eyes. The library was dark now, the light of the fireplace having died when no one attended to it, but she could see the dawn slowly climbing its way to the sky, giving her just enough light to see who was in the room with her.
“Sunburst!” She cried out, almost unbelieving, but growing more and more elated the longer he stood there and didn’t disappear. “What are you doing here? Your letter…!”
“I know, I thought I wouldn’t make it either,” Sunburst explained. “But I finished earlier than expected and took the first train here.”
“That’s great, but…” she crossed her hooves and frowned. “What was so important that you almost missed the party? I was very hurt when I got your letter without any further explanation.”
Sunburst’s ears folded against his head, looking guilty. “I’m sorry, trust me, I wouldn’t have missed the party without a good reason,” he pulled out a box from his cloak, wrapped in shiny festive paper and a silver bow, and handed it to her. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Starlight.”
With a quick work of her magic, she unwrapped the gift and opened the box. She gasped. “Is this—!?”
“The limited edition Dragon Pit commemorating the game’s first tenth anniversary? Why yes, it is.” Sunburst said, his chest rising with a little pompous pride. “It took me forever to find it, even more to haggle with the seller, but I guess he really needed the money because he finally contacted me and accepted my offer, but only if I came before Hearth’s Warming and paid him directly in ca—!”
Starlight snagged him in a tight hug, uncaring that he was still wearing his winter clothes, still covered in a light layer of snow. His gift was amazing, but she would have been just as elated if he had gifted her a pair of socks—she was just happy that he cared enough to give her something, but more importantly, that he had made it for Hearth’s Warming.
She kissed his cheek as a thanks for such a thoughtful gift, only for him to recoil with a yelp.
“What’s wrong?” Starlight turned on the lamp by the table and gasped. “Sunburst! Your face!”
His right cheek was swollen, with a perfect imprint of a horseshoe that was turning into an ugly shade of purple.
“I went to look for you in your room first, but...” He laughed nervously, touching his cheek gingerly, and winced. “Let’s just say that Trixie kicks like a mule.”