Hmm, it looks too… festive.

Twilight swayed her head back and forth, attempting to look at her manetie from an angle that made it appear less gaudy, but eventually scoffed in defeat and removed the offending accessory. Levitating another over, she took a glance and decided, No, too red. Hardly matches my coat. A third manetie floated over, this once pure purple. She considered it a moment before tossing it aside as well.
 
The librarian was not a mare of many mane supplements, and as such, quickly found herself out of options. She wondered if it was even worth it to put so much attention on her appearance. Only her closest friends would be attending the party, and Rarity, the one who would be most critical, was to be busy sitting the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ Hearth’s Warming Eve celebration. Something was compelling her, though.
 
Sweeping up all of the discarded maneties with her magic, she placed them all back inside her dresser. If there was nothing on hoof, she would just need to visit Rarity and ask for something more fitting. Twilight tidied up the rest of her room then grabbed a winter saddle from her closet and strapped it on. Much easier with magic. She also hopped into some boots before walking downstairs.
 
Her number one assistant was busy putting up Hearth’s Warming decorations. It occurred to Twilight that she should have done so much earlier. Now they’d only be in-spirit for a day or so. Also, there was something about seeing that little dragon working so hard on it by himself, something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on.
 
The library felt very cold all of a sudden. Decorations were always provided back in Canterlot; it was odd to see Spike do it alone. Spike wouldn’t even be at the celebration tonight. Her parents, her brother, too. All gone. But that was the way of things, right? Ponies grow older, move away, do bigger things with their life. It was just sudden this year.

She wished she could have kept something of Canterlot, something besides her memories.
 
Hearing Twilight descend the stairs, Spike turned around from his spot on the ladder. “I thought the decorations would be a nice touch for anypony visiting the library. Besides, you never know if you’ll need to have an emergency celebration here.”
 
“Oh, Spike,” said Twilight, sighing. She walked over and nuzzled him. “I’m proud of you for thinking so far ahead.”
 
The poor dragon couldn’t help but blush, though he did his best to hide it from Twilight.
 
“Say, Spike—why did you ask to go to the Cutie Mark Crusader’s party, anyways?”
 
“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? They’re all my age and—“
 
“Rarity’s going to be there too?” Twilight’s tone turned suggestive.
 
Spike looked away and curled his claws into fists. “N-no, that’s not it.”
 
“It’s okay to admit you want to spend the holiday with her.”
 
“But that’s not it, really!”
 
Rolling her eyes, Twilight made her way to the door, but paused before leaving. “I’m going to Rarity’s to pick up a new manetie, then I’ll be heading to Sugarcube Corner for lunch. I should be back well before nightfall, though. See you later!”
 
“But you don’t need a manetie to look pretty.”
 
Now Twilight’s cheeks were tinted rose, but she refrained from acknowledging the comment. Twilight walked out the door, torn between a grin and a frown.
 
 
 

---

 
 
 
Twilight poked at the last of her lunch with a hoof. Her bread had nothing amusing to show her, though. With a sigh, she laid her head down on the table, choosing to observe the lunch crowd. It offered much more entertainment than her inanimate food.
 
The ponies here all seemed so cheery to her. They all had somewhere to be; such was expected before a holiday like tomorrow. Maybe it was that spirit that kept them moving. Maybe it was the bakery itself. Pinkie Pie certainly contributed to it. Though Twilight kept asking herself what it was she saw in them, she never wondered if it was in fact something she lacked…
 
“Hiya, Twilight!” The stoic unicorn’s vision was suddenly filled with a very pink mane and two very blue eyes. She jolted backwards.
 
“Pinkie! You startled me.”
 
“Why you looking so down? Are you drowsy? Or coming down from too much sugar? You know, that’s happened to me before. My solution was to just eat more sugar.”
 
“I’m not tired. I got plenty of rest.”
 
“Aww, don’t tell me you’re sad! There’s a big, super-awesome party tonight! Be excited!”
 
“I am excited for the party tonight. I actually just came here from Carousel Boutique.” Twilight levitated her new sparkling-pink manetie out for Pinkie to see. “I wanted to wear sometime nice for tonight.”
 
Pinkie’s eyes grew to the size of watermelons under the spell of Twilight’s new manetie. “Oooh. I bet it looks so good on you. I can’t wait to see it.” Once Twilight stashed the manetie away, Pinkie started hopping up and down. “So, which game are you most excited for tonight? I usually go for the pin-the-tail-on-the-pony, but Rainbow Dash really likes to bob for apples, and Applejack likes musical chairs.” She puts a hoof to her chin. “Now that I think about it, wouldn’t it make more sense for Applejack to like bobbing for apples more? I think I should ask her about that.”
 
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll all be very fun, Pinkie. I wouldn’t want to anticipate one too much over the others; I might not give them all a fair chance.”
 
Pinkie leaned in, peering with one eye directly into Twilights’. “I guess…” Twilight could only offer a nervous, toothy smile.
 
“I think I should be going. Plenty of things to do today!” Twilight stood up and took a few steps toward the door before Pinkie buzzed in front of her.
 
“But there’s so much for us to talk about! What is your family doing for Hearth’s Warming? Are they coming here? Hmmm?”
 
“My… family? Well, I sent them a letter and they sent me one back. They’ll be celebrating with friends in Canterlot. I’m sure they’ll enjoy it just as much as me.”
 
“What about the princess?”
 
Twilight raised an eyebrow at the inquisitive earth pony. “Celestia? I-I’m actually not sure what she’s doing. Does it really matter?” Pinkie bobbed her head up and down furiously. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s working through it, or perhaps spending some time with her new sister. I think that’s what I would do if I were her.” Stepping to the side, Twilight started toward the door but Pinkie popped in front of her again. “Pinkie, not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m fine. I’m sure everyone I know in Canterlot is going to have a great time.”
 
“If you say so.” Pinkie leapt forward and embraced Twilight in a tight hug. “You know, I heard Applejack has been really busy today, getting food together for the party. I’d go help, but I’ve got so much to do here.”
 
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll go check on Applejack. I’m sure she’s got her hooves full like always. See you tonight, Pinkie!” With that, she trotted out the door, though her step didn’t hold the bounce Pinkie usually saw in it.
 
“I thought so…” she said to herself, narrowing her eyes before bounding back over to the counter. Something was up with Twilight, and she had a pretty good idea what it was. As soon as the Cakes came back to cover for her, she’d need to do some Pinkie-sleuthing.
 
Almost on queue, Mr. and Mrs. Cake walked through the front door, escorted by a familiar white unicorn.
 
 
 

---

 
 
 
Spike absentmindedly fiddled with the scarf as he sat in his bed. It was a little worn from age and use, but the orange had kept well, not fading or decaying as one might expect. Though the thing had always been a little big for him, Spike always thought it was perfectly comfortable. Maybe dragons didn’t really need scarves with their thick scales to protect them, but maybe the cold wasn’t the only thing he needed protection from.
 
He was still fumbling with it when a knock rang out through the library.
 
The suddenness of the noise made him jolt and fall out of his basket, but he quickly recovered and ran toward the door. “Coming!” he called out, and seconds later he swung open the front door, revealing two ponies: Pinkie Pie and Rarity. Upon seeing the former, he suppressed a gulp.
 
“Hello, there, Spikey. May we come in? It’s dreadfully cold out here,” said Rarity. Pinkie added a “Brrr” for emphasis.
 
“Uh, yeah, sure! I’d love for you to come in!” He stepped to the side and held the door wide open, allowing the visitors to step inside.
 
“Thank you, dear.” Rarity drew out her mane with a hoof, shaking some snow from it. “I don’t understand why the pegasai insist on having snow on Hearth’s Warming Eve. I understand the desire to be festive, but perhaps they could wait until the day of for that? Many busy ponies are still travelling at this time.”
 
“But without the snow, you can’t make snowponies!” Pinkie said, hopping around the room. “Or have snowball fights! Or slide around on your rump yelling ‘wheeeeeee’ all the way through town! How are you supposed to have a real holiday without those things?”
 
“I assure you, Pinkie, it is quite possible. Although, I must admit your aim with snowballs is uncanny.” After a quick inspection of her tail, she turned to Spike. “We didn’t come here to talk about snow, however.”
 
Pinkie halted her inside bouncing routine and zipped over to Rarity, also turning to Spike. “Mmm-hmm. We have something very important we need from you.”
 
Spike tugged at his collar. “Uhh, important? From me?”
 
Rarity stepped forward and patted him on the head. “No need to get nervous, Spikey. While this is important, it’s nothing complex or eloquent; rather, it’s something I imagine you do quite frequently.”  She turned around, horn glowing, and summoned a scroll from her saddlebag. It stopped in the air before Spike, who grabbed and unfurled it.
 
It was a letter to Princess Celestia.
 
“I’m not sure I follow,” said Spike.
 
Pinkie jumped in. “See, Twilight came to Sugarcube Corner earlier today to eat, but she was really really down, like she hadn’t had a cupcake in days! So I went over and tried to cheer her up like any good friend would do, but she wouldn’t say what was wrong. She seemed really nervous talking about Celestia, and this is Twilight’s first Hearth’s Warming away from Canterlot and I figured she missed her teacher!”
 
“You think she misses Celestia? I dunno…”
 
Rarity laid a hoof on Pinkie’s withers, silencing her hyperactive friend. “Spikey, I too had a similar conversation with Twilight when she came into the Boutique. She was clearly not herself. Avoiding my eyes, mumbling more often than not, dancing around topics concerning her teacher—I’m actually surprised Pinkie got as much as she did out of our troubled friend. In fact, when I did get around to giving her her new manetie, she insisted on paying for it!” Rarity scoffed as if offended.
 
“I guess that is a little weird for her. Are you sure it’s Celestia she’s missing, though?”
 
“Quite certain. Who else might it be? I considered her parents, but she seemed more open about that, and I know she’s had correspondence with them about the holiday. Celestia, on the other hand…”
 
Spike’s face fell. “That does make sense.” He let out a deep sigh and looked back to the letter. “So, what’s this for, then?”
 
“That, dear, is our request for help. It is our hope that the princess might have some time for her favorite student. A short visit would do wonders for Twilight, don’t you think?”
 
Spike looked back to the letter. “That seems a little excessive.”
 
A blur of pink danced across Spike’s vision and he found himself under the stare of two powerful blue eyes. “Spike, Twilight told me she was really busy at Sugarcube Corner but when I suggested she visit Applejack, she accepted! On a whim! Twilight never does that! When she’s busy, every single minute of her day is planned out.” Pinkie stuck her lower lip out in a frown. “I’m worried for her.”
 
“Yeah, I-I guess I can see that. Something must really be bothering her. Alright, stand back, I’m gonna send it.” Both Pinkie and Rarity gave Spike some room before he drew in a mighty breath, then released it in a gush of green flame, consuming the scroll and sending it on its way.
 
“I do hope we receive good news when she replies,” said Rarity. “Could you let one of us know when that is?”
 
“Sure.”
 
“And make sure not to tell Twilight! It’ll be much better if it’s a surprise. I love surprising ponies,” said Pinkie.
 
Pinkie and Rarity both walked over to the door, though Rarity stopped short before leaving. “Oh, and Spikey, that is a lovely scarf you’re sporting. You should wear them more often.”
 
Blood rushed to Spike’s face and he looked down at the orange scarf as if he just noticed he was wearing it. He quickly tore it off and hid it behind his back. “Uhh, scarf? What scarf? I don’t wear scarves.”
 
Covering her mouth with a hoof, Rarity gave a polite laugh before walking out the door. “Of course you don’t, Spikey.”
 
When the door closed behind her, Spike took the scarf back up from behind his back, running his claws delicately over the material. The stitching held, though it was a bit rough and rogue threads stood out in place. He brought it up to his nose, taking in a deep breath. It smelled the same as it always had.
 
Like home.
 
 
 

---

 
 
 
Twilight knocked on the boutique’s front door once again, shifting nervously in place. She craned her neck in an attempt to get a good look through the door window, but saw no movement inside. Undeterred, she darted over to one of the display windows, hoping to find something she had been missing. Again, no results; the place was empty. The defeated unicorn was about to teleport away when somepony called out to her.
 
“Yoo-whoo! Are you looking for me, dear Twilight?”
 
Twilight spun around, elated with her luck. However, she kept her smile suppressed to nothing more than a subtle grin.
 
Rarity trotted up to her front door and unlocked it, opening it wide for Twilight. “Dreadfully sorry, I was just out for a stroll. Please come in.”
 
Once the two had gotten inside, Twilight explained why she had come.
 
“I… I want you to come to the party with me—er, us. Pinkie’s party.”
 
Rarity shot Twilight an inquisitive look. “I do appreciate the concern, Twilight, but this has been planned for weeks. I made my decision to look after the girls and Spike instead of coming to Pinkie’s party. Sure, I’d love to do both, but the world doesn’t always work out that way.”
 
“Please,” Twilight pleaded. “I really want you to come.”
 
Rarity’s expression twisted further. “As do I, darling. Is there a… reason why you’re coming to me with this now? Are you feeling alright?”
 
“Yes, Rarity, I’m perfectly fine. I’ll just be better if you’re at the party!” Twilight’s voice began to rise in volume; Rarity felt her mane almost get frazzled from the force of her friend’s shout.
 
“Forgive my assumptions, Twilight, but your tone leads to me think something is bothering you. I am honored to call you a friend, and right now you sound like a friend who needs help. Why don’t you come in, take a seat, I’ll make us some tea, and we can talk about it.”
 
“Rarity, I—“ Twilight cut herself off and took a deep breath. It would be rude to let her frustrations start affecting her friends, as well. “This isn’t something complex that I want to talk about. If you can’t come, that’s fine. Why don’t you let me babysit the girls instead? You’re always taking on these responsibilities, but just because you’re the Element of Generosity doesn’t mean your friends can’t be generous as well.”
 
For a moment, Rarity was simply lost for words. She did her best to keep from gawking at the very sudden proposal her friend put forth. Only after she recovered, was she able to offer a reply. “That is very thoughtful of you, Twilight, but I don’t want to disrupt your plans at all. This is your first Hearth’s Warming away from Canterlot, is it not? You should be the one out enjoying time with our friends, not concerning yourself with what you might miss from back home.”
 
“What I miss back—” The instant Rarity heard Twilight’s reaction, she knew the words were ill-chosen. Twilight’s gaze shifted into a razor-sharp glare. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Rarity, but I am not ‘concerning myself’ with such things. I am trying to be a good friend but if you’re not interested you could just say so.”
 
Reaching out with a hoof, Rarity attempted to calm Twilight back down and apologize, but the librarian was gone with a bright purple flash, teleport off to someplace unknown. Rarity kept a straight face, however. She may have failed Twilight right at that moment, but surely Celestia would hear their plea.
 
Someone needed to, for Twilight’s sake.
 
 
 

---

 
 
 
The old wooden library door creaked as Twilight opened it, waking Spike from his nap upstairs. He groggily turned over and upon seeing Twilight enter, he quickly removed his scarf and stashed it under some sheets. A swift blast of cold air shook him, bringing out a sting of regret for leaving the scarf off. After making sure it was hidden, he waddled down the stairs to greet her, though her appearance gave him pause.
 
There were clumps of snow sticking to her mane and coat. Her bangs drooped, empty of the springy life they often carried. Her eyes shared the same countenance, directly at the floor as she lazily shuffled toward the bathroom. Spike didn’t want to pry, but silence would hurt more.
 
“Hey, Twi.” He couldn’t formulate the question he needed to ask.
 
Slowly, she lifted her head, and a private little smile grew on her face. “Hi, Spike. How was your day?”
 
“Oh, y’know. Good, I guess.” A claw instinctively went behind his head.
 
“That’s good.” The tone her voice carried spoke a different story, however.
 
Spike watched her approach the bathroom, feeling his time ticking away. There was something that needed to be said. “So, how was yours? Your day, I mean.”
 
She paused, keeping her eyes forward, seemingly contemplating the simple question. “It was… it was good.”
 
“Oh. Hey, I think—” The bathroom door slammed behind Twilight, cutting him off.
 
He stood staring at the door, wondering what had defeated her, wondering if he could muster the courage to say what he wanted to. Wasn’t she looking forward to the celebration? Pinkie and Rarity had said she was missing Celestia, and maybe that was the case, but a small part of Spike wanted it not to be her, but someone else…
 
A rattling on the window made Spike turn around. Pinkie was outside, hopping up and down, poking at the window. Spike hurried over and cracked it open so they could talk.
 
“Do ya got the response?”
 
“Oh,” said Spike, his demeanor darkening at the mention. “Yeah, but it’s not exactly what you wanted. Celestia said she can’t come, but wrapped up in her reply was another letter. Here.” Spike squeezed a scroll through the open window and Pinkie quickly stashed it away. “Celestia said to give that to Twilight if she needed cheering up. I hope it helps.”
 
“I’m sure it will, Spike. You’re the best!” Before leaving, Pinkie stuck a dazzling gem through the window. “For being stupendous!”
 
Smiling, Spike accepted the gift, though his eyes did not carry the same enthusiasm. “Thanks.”
 
He popped the gem in his mouth as he closed the window. It tasted fine. Not good, not bad. Fine.
 
What concerned him more was the unicorn now held up in the bathroom. Puffing his chest out and taking a deep breath, he marched over to the door and knocked.
 
“What is it, Spike?”
 
“Twilight, I’m worried about you.”
 
He heard a scoff. “You and everypony else.”
 
“What’s bothering you?”
 
“I’m just worried about the party tonight, that’s all.”
 
“I thought you were looking forward to that.”
 
“Well, I was. But then I realized how much different things are. I’m not even in Canterlot any more.” After a short pause, she continued, “This is probably pretty hard on you, too, isn’t it?”
 
“It’s not so bad, though a lot of me wishes I could be celebrating it back in Canterlot.”
 
“I know, Spike. But things change. That’s just how they are. We can’t live our lives never moving forward.”
 
“Do they have to change, though?”
 
“Eventually.”
 
And here was his opening, the perfect chance to say it. I don’t want them to change, Twilight. I want to spend the holiday with you. But the words didn’t come. They choked in his throat and died out. So the young dragon trudged back upstairs, grabbed his scarf, and left. It was about time for the party to start, anyways.
 
He just wished he didn’t have to leave Twilight in that bathroom. It was a terrible place to be alone.
 
 
 

---

 
 
 
The setting was the same. It was always the same. Every Sugarcube Corner party was a copy of the last one, thought Twilight as she gazed into her reflection in the punch bowl. Streamers tossed about the ceiling and walls, balloons in the corner and on some festive-looking tables. The traditional Hearth’s Warming fire was burning, but it didn’t look different than any other flame. Soft music ran through the background, urging the partygoers to break into dance. Twilight was unaffected. She’d come to the table get something to drink, but now that she’d caught her reflection, she didn’t want to let it go.
 
“Hi, Twilight!” Pinkie hopped over to the table, sending ripples through the bowl and breaking Twilight’s reflection.
 
“Hey, Pinkie. You’ve got another nice party here.”
 
“Thanks! But what really makes these parties good is having my friends here to enjoy it!” She gave Twilight a light-hearted smack on her withers. “How about we play a game?”
 
Twilight looked to her friend. She supposed it couldn’t hurt to at least try. “Sure. Why not?”
 
Letting out a squee, Pinkie leapt into the middle of the room and shouted, “Game time! Who wants to play pin the tail on the pony?”
 
Everypony gathered around as Pinkie set up a poster on the wall and handed out tail pins.  Twilight silently watched her friends take their turns, each one shouting out jubilation or disappointment on seeing their aim. Pinkie gave everypony a pat on the back, whether they did well or not. It all seemed so easy, so natural to them. And why wouldn’t it be? They all knew each other for a while, now. This was their home, their tradition; a tradition they were welcoming Twilight in to with open arms. They were doing everything they could to make her belong—but there was one thing they couldn’t do, even with all the sincerity in the world.
 
“Uh, Twi? It’s your turn.”
 
Twilight noticed all of her friends were staring at her quietly. She shook her head, bringing herself back into awareness. “Oh! Sorry. Just zoned out a bit.” Adorning the blindfold, she spun herself around then charged forward, plucking the tail pin down with vigor.
 
“Is everything okay, Twi?” asked Applejack.
 
Cursing Applejack’s uncanny ability to identify troubled friends, Twilight removed the blindfold and turn to her cowpony friend with a smile. “Yes! Perfectly fine! I am just fantastic! I’m at a party with all of my friends and couldn’t be happier!”
 
“Ya don’t sound all that happy.”
 
Twilight gritted her teeth and forced her smile wider. “Whatever do you mean? I’m smiling! I’m doing great, how are you, Applejack?”
 
“I’m not so worried ‘bout myself.”
 
“Well, that’s just swell, isn’t it?”
 
Pinkie shouted from the other side of the room, “Dance time!” and turned up the volume on her turntable. The exclamation tore attention away from Twilight long enough for Pinkie to begin ushering everyone toward the dance floor. Applejack was about to voice a protest when Pinkie nudged her, saying, “Don’t worry, Auntie Pinkie has this.” Applejack acknowledged Pinkie with a nod and gave Twilight one last worried look before joining the others on the dance floor.
 
Lowering her head, Twilight trudged toward the punch bowl once again. Her short trek was interrupted when Pinkie jumped out in front of her. Rolling her eyes, Twilight attempted to maneuver around her friend. Pinkie, of course, proved to be un-maneuverable.
 
“Alright, Pinkie, what is it?”
 
“Aww, Twilight, don’t be a grumpy sad-sad. This should cheer you up!” Pinkie thrust a scroll into Twilight’s face, shocking the somber unicorn into hopping backward.
 
“What is this?”
 
“Just open it!”
 
Twilight raised an eyebrow at her friend, but opened the scroll nonetheless. As soon as her eyes landed on the words, “My Dearest Student,” Twilight’s eyes widened and she nearly dropped the letter.
 
Pinkie took this as a good sign and gave a little hop in joy.
 
My Dearest Student,
 
I do not have much time, so I will be brief. Let me first say how much of an honor it has been for me to watch you grow. I’m so proud of you for taking your studies to Ponyville, so proud that you could find friends and a life there. Too often even I forget the importance of independence; I’ve lived on my own for so many years.
 
I realize it must be difficult, living away from your family in Canterlot. I know you haven’t seen them in quite a while, and the things you once found familiar may seem more and more foreign as time passes. But this is not a negative thing, Twilight. Look on it as a positive. It’s proof that you are growing, expanding, learning beyond even what I have taught you. You’ve become your own unicorn in more ways than one.
 
As I look outside, I see clouds and snow, a darker Hearth’s Warming in years past. There is dread and weakness in the world, phantoms that would take you and drain the joy from you. I am not worried, Faithful Student. You are a mountain, a mighty tower than such shadows crash against and wither. Your time in Ponyville has only proved this.
 
So enjoy yourself, Twilight. Your parents and your brother will be here, thinking about you. You are in my thoughts as well. We have not forgotten you, and never will.
 
Happy Hearth’s Warming,
Princess Celestia
 
Twilight was brimming with tears. Her friends had gone and told Celestia, the teacher she worked so hard to earn respect from, that her student couldn’t handle her first Hearth’s Warming alone. That Twilight needed her teacher for something as silly as loneliness. The letter that had been meant to cheer her up had instead shattered her, leaving sharp, broken pieces of her spirit scattered across the floor. She looked at Pinkie, halfway torn between screaming and crying.
 
Her friend simply smiled back.
 
Desperately, Twilight read the letter again, looking for something to take solace in, something to keep her emotions from spilling out into the air. All of Celestia’s words, while genuine and kind, could not ease this pain. The body of the letter proved useless to the tortured student.
 
The signature, however…
 
Twilight was always one to notice the little things. “An acute attention to detail,” Celestia called it. It was one of those traits that helped Twilight grow so fast in her studies, allowed her to pick up details others simply passed up. And right then, this skill of Twilight’s noticed something crucial. Something so vitally important, it had the power to hold her tears.
 
Celestia’s signature was distorted. Twilight rubbed a hoof on it, wondering if the ink was still wet, but the words did not run. Her next guess was that some snow had gotten on the letter, but had that been the case, there should have been many more distortions. It made no sense for a single snowflake to hit the letter.
 
For several moments, Twilight looked intently at the distortion, her brain running like a locomotive, her gaze sharpening with each second. Then things made sense. The realization slammed into her, drawing a gasp.
 
It was a teardrop. And there was only one way to get a letter here from Celestia so quickly.
 
Twilight knew what she had to do, what she should have already done when she woke up today. Dropping the letter, she concentrated on a spell, a desperate teleport to take her where she needed to go. The air fizzled around her, crackling and twirling into a small storm.
 
Then, with a bright, purple flash, she was gone.
 
 
 

---

 
 
 
The icy wind pushed against Spike, slowing his progress to a crawl. Snow flew through his vision, the occasional flake hitting an eye, causing him to pausing and blink. He heard howling as well, as if wolves were stalking the streets on this lonely night. The world was a terrible white.
 
Spike’s thick scales held the cold at bay, however, and the scarf he tightly grasped in his claw held his heart. It was to be a long night, but it was not something the dragon would yield to. He’d seen colder nights in Canterlot.
 
His short, stubby legs failed him, however. The snow hit a deep pocket Spike couldn’t see, and he lost his balance. The fall seemed to last forever, and the world of white greeted him like an old friend. From that spot, lying in the tomb of snow, his first action was to clutch the scarf more firmly.
 
Thrashing, Spike fought to free himself from the snow bank. All he succeeded in doing was tossing the surrounding snow about. He wanted this snow gone, he wanted to be home, and he wanted to forget all about this stupid holiday. His tears froze the second they left his eyes.
 
He thought he heard somepony call his name.
 
The snowfall was thick, and from his position on the ground, he could see little. Maybe his small dragon ears had deceived him.
 
“Spike!”
 
A warm, purple glow enveloped him, and soon Spike found himself in a fuzzy, lavender embrace.
 
“Spike! I was so worried! Rarity said you had run off, but what are you doing here?”
 
Spike returned the embrace briefly, then realized he was still wearing the scarf. He fumbled with it, trying to tear it off and hide it as quickly as he could. “I-I’m going back home.”
 
Twilight set him down. “But why would you do that? I thought you were having fun! And the weather is horrible!”
 
Keeping eye contact, Spike continued to grapple with his scarf, but the thing seemed determined to clamp onto his neck. “I was tired. That’s all. You know me, right? Love my sleep.”
 
“Why would you—“ Twilight leaned in and squinted. “Is that… the scarf I gave you?”
 
Spike threw the ends of the scarf behind him and snapped his hands to his sides. “N-no! I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
 
Grabbing one of the ends with her magic, Twilight brought it in front of her. “This is! It’s the same orange I remember, and it’s aged appropriately as well. I thought you’d lost this!”
 
Spike said nothing, only blushing furiously and staring at the ground as if it had suddenly become very interesting.
 
“Spike, did you… did you want to come to the Hearth’s Warming Eve celebration with me?”
 
“No, that’s silly. You were probably all doing grown-up stuff. Besides, I got to spend the night with Rarity.”
 
Twilight’s face went flat. “Spike, don’t lie to me. And look at me when you talk.”
 
“I just, well,” a purple hoof lifted Spike’s chin until he was looking straight into Twilight’s eyes. “It’s your party, isn’t it? Your friends. I’m just a kid, right? It’s selfish for me to want to always be a part of your life. Besides, you said things change. Isn’t this just one of those things?”
 
“Spike…” Twilight sat down, then scooped Spike up in a mighty hug, swinging him gently back and forth. These were words she should’ve said long ago. “I wanted you there, too.”
 
“You did?”
 
“Yes. I was telling myself the same thing; that it was selfish for me to ask you to stay with me for the night, that things had to change because that was the way of the world. I got so upset over it! But I wanted you there. I wanted to know that not everything changed, that some things could stay the same. That the little dragon I’d been looking over for so long wanted to celebrate with me, too.” Twilight set Spike down. “You’re not just a part of my memories, you’re a part of me. Don’t ever think you won’t be.”
 
Spike stood there, in front of her, tears flowing from his eyes. But these tears did not freeze. The cold didn’t seem so harsh any more. The snow wasn’t so deep. The sorrow that had torn through him seemed so distant now; a pang of another life, a sting that had struck someone else. “I’m glad some things haven’t changed.”
 
Twilight ran a hoof over the baby dragon’s head, ruffling the scales as her hoof passed over them. “Let’s go home.” She lifted him onto her back and started trotting toward the library.
 
The warring, gruesome, icy tempest roared around them, shaking the world underhoof and chilling all it touched with a terrible cold… but in that blizzard, there was warmth.
 
For the darkest cold could not extinguish that invincible flame.