Hearth’s Warming. That magical time of the year as the frost clung to the windows and a warm interior did wonders to attract customers inside.
Donut Joe had already made his yearly batch of colourful contributions for the holiday. A lot more patterned frosting, and even a few novelty shapes that sometimes sold well and others not so much. The interior of his shop had been decorated fairly simply, with a green wreath on the door, and a lining of tinsel around the windows. Just enough to get into the festive cheer, without being too much work for a single pair of hooves.
His store would be closed come Hearth’s Warming Day, but remained open right up until midnight on Hearth’s Warming Eve. A small comfortable nook away from the snow outside for ponies in need of a brief reprieve, and hopefully a bite to eat.
And there were a few that had stepped inside for a few moments in the last hours before the clock struck closing time. An older mare sat in the corner, nursing a hot chocolate as she scribbled in her notebook, and a young couple that seemed intent on quietly giggling and feeding each other the half-dozen donuts they purchased earlier.
As Joe busied himself cleaning up, it seemed it would be particularly quiet this year, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t stay open this late for the money.
Just as he thought that however, the bell chimed softly, announcing a new arrival. A unicorn mare with a cream coloured coat and long mane like golden honey. Her cutiemark looked to be a ladybug flying after a pair of fireflies. Her green eyes were half-lidded, which gave a somewhat sophisticated, almost sultry look about her, only amplified by the way she held herself.
The mare shook herself as she stepped inside, her cyan scarf apparently doing little to shield her from the cold outside, but she gave a content sigh at the warmth inside.
“Happy Hearth’s Warming,” Donut Joe said cheerfully waving her over. “Come inside and warm up.”
The mare looked dubious a moment as she looked around, but in the end shrugged and stepped up to the counter and took the stool in front of it.
“Anything I can get you?” Joe asked.
She shook her head. “No,” she replied in a smooth voice like velvet. “I was simply looking for a place to escape the snow for a moment.”
Joe didn’t think too hard about what a proper mare was doing in his establishment. He worked and lived close enough to the upper echelons of Canterlot, and despite appearances he had a number of high class customers from time to time.
“Well, either way, welcome to Donut Joe’s, and if you change your mind, I’m the proprietor. Don’t think I’d need to tell you what my name is,” he said with a wink.
The mare smiled slyly a moment and pretended to consider the answer. “Steve?”
He chuckled and shook his head at the mare’s sense of humour. “What kind of a name is Steve?”
“A perfectly valid name in the right circles. As for me, you may call me… Junebug,” she said after a moment, though Joe tried not to pay too much attention to the pause. Some of those upper class ponies had weird social rules, and he wasn’t going to try to interpret them. “I must say though, I’m surprised to see any shop still open this late,” she continued.
Joe gave a cheerful shrug. “Bit of a tradition of mine at this point. Gotta love the holiday, but for some ponies it can be a bit stressful. I like keeping the place open for ponies to get away from it all. Including family if needed.”
Junebug’s face soured briefly. “Yes, I can imagine being disappointed in family,” she grumbled. Though she didn’t let the distaste settle for long as she smiled. “Though it gives the impression you have a story behind the choice to remain open. Are you avoiding family of your own?”
Joe shook his head. “Nah, I’m not avoiding anypony. To be honest I like being open and helping out folks that come in my store.” He pondered a moment before adding. “Though, in a roundabout way, it was family that got me to start this little tradition, just not mine. It was actually Twilight Sparkle’s.”
Junebug froze, staring at him wide eyed. “You mean, the Princess Twilight Sparkle?”
“Oh this was a few years before she was a princess.” He leaned on the counter as he began his tale. “See, one Hearth’s Warming Eve she had some kinda argument with her parents – don’t ask me what it was, I didn’t pry – but she needed to mope on her own for a bit with a milkshake, cause this was the only place still open. Honestly, it was past closing time, but I didn’t have the heart to kick her out, and then her brother and Spike found her here and decided to stick around as long as it took to cheer her up, ordering donuts till almost midnight. By the time she was feeling better, the three of them thanked me for staying open so long just for them. Said it was just what she needed. And you know? It felt good to hear that.”
Junebug’s face turned contemplative, rubbing a hoof to her chin as she thought. “How… oddly mundane for a princess.”
“Like I said, way before she was a princess. But yeah, ever since then, I’ve kept the place open a bit longer on Hearth’s Warming Eve, because everywhere else is closed, and sometimes a pony just needs a place to themselves, or just a breather away from it all. And I’m just happy to be the pony that can provide.”
“I see,” she mused. Glancing up she asked, “So, does the Princess still frequent this establishment?”
He shook his head. “Not nearly as much ever since she moved to Ponyville. But she and Spike drop in from time to time when she visit’s Canterlot. Sometimes she brings her friends too.” He shivered a moment as a thought crossed his mind. “Gotta say though, some of the stories they tell about their adventures are frightening. Makes me happy for the simple life.”
The mare smiled again. “The simple life, leaving your store open late on the holiday for stragglers and strangers to wander in from the cold?”
“That’s right,” Joe nodded, sure of himself. “He leaned closer conspiratorially and gestured with his eyes to the couple. “Take those two for example,” he said quietly.
Junebug casually stole a glance the couple's way, without making it obvious, the movement betraying an obvious skill for subtlety.
“Not sure why, but it sounds like those kids' parents don’t approve of them seeing each other,” Donut Joe said quietly. “They were pretty bummed out when they got here, but a warm place and a few good donuts, and well, see for yourself.”
Her eyes flowed smoothly back to them to see what he meant.
The teenage couple leaned heavily against each other, almost sitting on the same seat, soaking in each other’s company. The earth pony colt peppered little kisses on the pegasus filly’s muzzle, even as she pulled away, putting up a token resistance as she giggled quietly. Though it seemed her minor resistance was not the end of it, as she stealthily took the last donut and quickly smooshed it against her paramour’s face. The colt pulled back in surprise, before catching the dripping frosting from his muzzle and smearing some on her face as well as she tried to stop herself snorting in laughter.
Junebug seemed to watch the exchange intently, her expression unreadable, though she breathed deeply through her nose as the scent of cooked dough and frosting from their romantic scuffle reached them. Taking in the scent, her eyes narrowed with a focus that some might call predatory.
The spell was broken however, and she flinched at the sound of ceramic clinking against the counter top before she returned her attention to the counter. There she found a small plate with a heavily frosted donut, patterned to look like a Hearth’s Warming tree, green with white and red tinsel and coloured baubles. Rather impressive, considering the traditionally non-tree-like shape of donuts in general.
Frowning, she looked up suspiciously at Joe, who shrugged with a smile. “You looked hungry.”
“I did not order anything.”
“On the house.”
“I did not ask for charity or pity.”
“Come on, it’s the spirit of the holiday. Just give it a try.”
She sighed and a green aura enveloped the donut as she picked it up in her magic, tearing a small piece off. “Very well, I shall indulge you,” she said, carefully placing the small piece in her mouth. “But do not hold your breath, I am not exactly known for having a sweet tooth, and I am not easily im…” Her eyes widened as she stopped chewing, looking down at the rest of the baked good in her magic. “Th… this is… what?”
“Everything okay?”
Instead of answering, she thrust the rest of the donut in her mouth with a gusto that reminded him of Pinkie Pie, quickly breaking the ‘proper’ demeanour she held throughout their interaction thus far. She gave a few moans of satisfaction as she chewed happily before swallowing. “How?” She said finally. “How is this so good?”
Joe laughed and shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Can’t say much other than it’s made with love.”
She blinked in confusion. “Made with… love?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “That’s awfully forward of you.”
“I mean I love my job,” Joe laughed, doing his best to dismiss her suspicions without insulting her. “Haven’t you ever been inspired, you just have to give it your all? That’s what I feel every time I put my hooves to work making my donuts. That passion to make the best I can. That’s the love that goes into my donuts.“
“I see,” she said curiously, trying to reclaim her poise from earlier. “Regardless, that was surprisingly… filling.”
However, as though thwarting her attempts at decorum, her stomach decided to make itself known at that very moment with a fierce growl.
Despite his attempts, Joe couldn’t help but snort in amusement, while Junebug’s ears splayed back and her face reddened with embarrassment.
“Not filling enough according to some opinion,” he chuckled.
She coughed lightly, still doing well to recompose herself, despite the interruption. “Unfortunately, seeing as I did not bring my bit-bag with me, said opinion shall have to be ignored.”
“Well, guess we’ll have to do something about that won’t we?” he said, reaching for a pair of mugs with his magic and setting the milk frother to warm up.
“What are you doing?” the mare asked, narrowing her eyes once more.
“Making some hot chocolate.”
She scoffed. “Did I not already tell you I am not interested in charity?”
“And didn’t I already say it’s the holiday?” Joe reasoned. “Besides, I’m making some for myself. Always nice to share a warm drink on a cold night.”
“Aren’t you still working?”
“I’m also my own boss, so I get to decide when I get to take a break.”
She rolled her eyes, but didn’t complain any further as he got to work.
For all his passion for donuts, Joe hadn’t neglected his skills in preparing other items on his menu, swiftly proven as he skilfully mixed the chocolate into the warm milk, adding whipped cream, and shaved chocolate flakes over the top. In quick work, he had a pair of hot chocolates, one of which he placed in front of Junebug.
“There you are,” he said, holding his own in his magic. “Enjoy.”
Junebug sighed. “You’re not going to give up are you?”
“If you really don’t want to accept a gift, then let’s hear your story in return,” Joe suggested, honestly curious. “What brings you here tonight? Why can you ‘imagine being disappointed in family?’” he asked, echoing her earlier comment.
Her eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised by the question. Though her expression morphed into bitterness as her gaze lowered.
Joe almost took back the question, seeing her discomfort. But before he had the chance to do so, she spoke.
“Betrayal.”
One word, that held a wealth of venom within. Junebug stared down at the drink before her, but really she was staring past it. “My family betrayed me. Forgetting all that I had done for them. All that I had strived for, to feed and home them. I will admit, we struggled from time to time, but everything I did was for them.” Her hoof tensed on the counter, as if willing to crush it. “And then one day, an outsider came and she claimed that all we struggled for was worthless, and they all turned on me in a heartbeat. Casting me out, destroying my home and all I had worked for.“
The silence that followed was palpable as Junebug fumed to herself.
Joe for his part hissed uncomfortably through his teeth. “Well, that’s a bit heavier than I imagined,” he replied awkwardly, hiding behind his own mug for a brief spell as he took a sip.
Junebug for her part, lifted her own mug to her lips and took a long deliberate mouthful. Joe held his breath, almost expecting to be judged for his work, as she swished the drink around in her mouth a moment before swallowing. A moment of silence followed.
“I see why you are called Donut Joe, and not Hot Chocolate Joe.”
Joe caught himself somewhere between a sputter and a laugh at the sudden shift in tone. The smirk on the mare’s face revealed her satisfaction in catching him off guard.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed at the verbal slap he had suffered. “That bad?”
“I didn’t say that,” Junebug said, idly stirring the hot chocolate with her spoon, mixing the whipped cream into the drink. “But your speciality is clearly in your baked goods.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Joe said, shaking his head. “You really aren’t easy to impress.”
“And yet your donuts did not disappoint.”
He chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I’ll take it.”
Donut Joe spent the rest of the time cleaning up for the closed day and sparing a moment to chat with Junebug here and there. But before long, the clock reached midnight, and he had to call it a night and let ponies know that it was time to close. The few customers he had shuffled out into the snowy night and said their goodbyes.
As he closed the front door and stepped out into the frosty street, he wasn’t too surprised to find Junebug still there waiting outside.
“Here,” he said, passing her a brown paper bag in his magic.
Junebug accepted in her own magic with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this?”
He shrugged. “Donuts really need to be eaten the day they’re made, and I’m going to be off for a couple of days. No sense letting the leftovers go to waste.”
She looked at the bag a moment, then smiled knowingly at him. “These are still warm, meaning they just came out of the oven. You made them specifically for me, didn’t you?”
“Heh, guilty as charged,” he admitted, rubbing a hoof at the back of his head. “Happy Hearth’s Warming.”
Junebug shook her head in a tired satisfaction. “You really have gone out of your way this night. Why?” she asked curiously. “You don’t even know me.”
“Simple enough,” he shrugged with a casual smile. “I don’t think anypony should be alone on Hearth’s Warming Eve.” He turned to leave, but paused a moment for one last comment. “Even Queen Chrysalis.”
Donut Joe stepped away, silently waving as he left on his way home. His bed was calling him, and it had been a long day.
Though it wasn’t because of the snow, she stood there a long moment, frozen in place.
He knew.
Her eyes were wide enough that they threatened to escape out of her head, as her thoughts raced around one primary realisation.
That silly purveyor of doughy sweets knew.
Chrysalis couldn’t believe it, there was no way such a simple pony was that perceptive. He made no outward appearance that he had realised anything, and neither had his emotions betrayed any surprise or fear. Nothing but that final, passing comment.
Her shock quickly receded, making way for seething anger to take its place.
This was bad. She had to do something. That stupid unicorn could tell somepony. Even unintentionally. She would have to abandon this identity, and it would be hard to find a place to pod him safely while she was alone, but it could be done.
She could still see him, walking down the barren street. The wind and snow as his only companion. She would have to be quick before he got too far.
Taking a step, her thoughts were interrupted by a crinkle of paper, reminding her of the warm sweets in her magic.
Chrysalis paused, looking down at the brown paper bag, her fury forgotten for a moment. An impulse had her open it to peer inside, spying the warm treasures covered in cinnamon and sugar. But also one more ingredient that stole her attention.
She brought one to her mouth, and practically melted at the flavour.
“Made with love,” she mumbled, echoing the pony’s comment from earlier. It was bizarre to think on how accurate that phrase was as she felt the love trickling down her throat as she swallowed. That love could be somehow infused as a means of cooking, rather than taking it forcefully from her victim. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, but here she was.
She finally opened her eyes, shaking herself from her stupor and looked down the street.
He was gone.
Chrysalis shook her head in frustration.
She turned around, stuffing another love-soaked donut into her mouth and stomping away the opposite direction. “Fine,” she scoffed sourly. “I guess it is a holiday.”
Author's Note
Happy Hearth's Warming folks 
I had so much freedom with this story, I wasn't sure what I was going to do to begin with, but I'm really happy with the result.
Jinglemas is always a fun challenge and this year has been no different.
Hoping all of you a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays 
