Warmth

[Chapter 1- Crimson Heat]

"Happy Hearth's Warming, everypony!" Pinkamena smiled upon her guests, stretched out on a couch. "Oh, I know I've already said it a thousand times, but come on! Aren't you happy? I'm happy!" The rocks stared at her. One of them seemed to answer, and she laughed.

"If only those other friends of mine were here, eh?" She regretted the thought a bit, her eyes moistening slightly. "Oh, but you're so much better!"

...

"Hey, don't be that way, Rocky. I thought we already discussed that. There's no place for hate on a day like this!" But what of other days...? "I'll be right back, you guys." She went to the kitchen and fetched herself a bottle of wine, not bothering to get a glass for the drink. She wouldn't need that little anyhow. The low murmur of conversation continued as she rejoined the group. "Alright. Just needed to get myself some- what?"

...

"Oh, quit teasing me! It's not a habit, I swear!" She shivered as images of a white unicorn fluttered past her. She took a gulp urgently.

...

Her eyes snapped open, an unwelcome interruption from her nursing. "P-presents? You didn't have to get me anything; being here together is the best present I could wish for!"

...

"Oh, you mean your 'presents...' Yeah, I'll- I'll get that done tonight, don't worry." She smiled, half-wincing. "Remind me to sharpen the blade, okay?" Shivers scurried down her spine, and she pulled the bottle to her mouth again. So much red everywhere... "Anypony up for some singing?"

...

"No, you sing. Too tired for that right now." The voices obliged, swirling around her. The sound swallowed her, a great hypnotic billow of smoke, its tone full of malice. She didn't like it. "Hey, guys, could we... could we watch it?" It grew louder. "Hey! Stop that!"

Her protests prompted a sharp screech, leaving her ears ringing. She gasped. "Y-you're... hurting me..." She sighed, squirming on the couch a little. And the wine flowed, the only thing to help her dull the shock. The chant continued, and her soul trembled. If only there was something she could do about it...

She whimpered, hot tears streaming down her face as red crawled down her throat. She closed her eyes, praying for escape. At some point it came, the wine dropping from her limp grasp, spilling its contents on the floor.

It didn't shatter.

[Chapter 2- Stitches and Stains]

Rarity hummed to herself quietly as she made her last few stitches. When she made dresses, that was when she was in heaven. Nopony and nothing could bother her. Even Opal's strange absence for the last few hours didn't seem important.

“Ha! Finished!” She admired her creation. “And you are so beautiful, are you not? Yes, you are! Now just to write that letter.”

Yes, a letter would be needed. This was a gift, after all. She turned her attention to the supplies she had set up next to the sewing macine. Normally she would have been more careful, but she had simply been dying to make this dress. She quickly dipped the quill in ink and began writing- dilligently, but with a script that would've made Twilight envious, surely.

Dearest Sister,

A most wonderful Hearth's Warming to you! Greetings from your beloved Rarity. This year I have taken it upon myself to fashion something that you would actually wear for more than one day. I hope that you do enjoy the dress; my inspirations were a series of charming photographs of you as a foal I found a few weeks ago.

Her eyes twinkled.

While I am aware of our recent strife, I do hope you will accept this gift, if not for what it is, as a tribute from a pony who is truly sorry for her misdoings. I wish you a happy Hearth's Warming once again- and many others!

Love,
Rarity

She sighed, resisting the urge to wipe sweat from her brow. Thankfully, a distraction offered itself as a window gave way to the cold winter air. She rushed to close it, inadvertently knocking over the inkwell.

Her return was signified by a loud gasp. "Th-the letter! And the dress! Oh!" She struggled to find words, her breathing quickening. Then her eyes narrowed. "You. You worthless little tramp!" She gave the machine an angry swipe with her hoof, sending it clattering to the floor. "Now look what you've done! Ruined all this, all your pointless games to repair your mistakes!" Her temper flared.

"Go ahead, sew! Try to stitch your wounds back together, you selfish, greedy bitch!" She bucked her legs at the table, knocking it down. Finally her fury seemed to burn out, and she fell to the floor, sobbing heavily. The wailing cut the air viciously, and she crawled towards the stained dress, trying to shield herself from the horror. "All I ever wanted was... a friend..."

She knew tomorrow she'd have to hide this somehow.

[Chapter 3- On Butterfly Wings]

Fluttershy was stretched out on her bed pensively, Angel beside her- thoughtfully munching on a carrot. She glanced at him again. "Oh, you're so cute!" gushed the pegasus.

He paused, staring at her flatly. She giggled in response.

"Where would I be without my little Angel bunny?" She reached forward and lightly kissed his cheek. Then she fell back on her pillow, sighing contently. Another Hearth's Warming surrounded by her animal friends. Such simple happiness. How could she wish for anything else? They needed her; she needed them. It all fit so perfectly.

In her pleasure she didn't hear the skitter of a small rabbit, and squealed in shock when she opened her eyes again. "A-Angel? Where are you, dear?" Then the realization hit her- he was gone. He had fled. From her. Not only was she alone, but she could only blame herself for this fact. Her heart quivered. "Not you too... oh, p-please!" She buried her face in the cushion, blushing hotly in fear and shame. And yet she found the strength to keep going, stumbling out of her bed.

She trotted out slowly, and smiled brightly when she spotted her companion, lazily lying on the floor. "Oh, goodness! I- I thought you... Nevermind." She went on despite not seeing a reaction. "I'm so sorry, dear. Such a silly thought. You, leaving me." She forced a knowing chuckle. "Come here, you little bunny wabbit, you!"

As she approached him, however, Angel suddenly rose again with an urgent look on his face- as if recognizing something was wrong with his caretaker, something she, sadly, would never understand. He ran (on his lovely little legs), disappearing from Fluttershy's view again.

She exhaled sharply, broken. So after all she had been wrong. Not even Angel wished to be with her. As her breathing quickened dangerously, she managed to gasp out one last, torturously unanswerable question.

"W-why....?" whimpered Fluttershy.

[Chapter 4- Busywork]

Twilight's quill scratched at the parchment. She was only half-aware of what she was actually writing, but it had to important. She'd never note trivial things, that much was certain. Not in a letter to the Princess.

A letter which, she reminded herself, she was penning herself, despite the fact that there was a dragon who would typically be taking care of that. Yes, it was Hearth's Warming, but duty called!

She sighed and lowered her utensil. Perhaps she too needed to try and appreciate this celebration- a little rest. She snickered. Celestia's star pupil, resting.

She stood up and the proceeded to plop down in a nearby chair, a bowl with cookies beside her. She wondered why she had even bothered to set it out, before lifting a biscuit into the air and biting down on it.

Dark chocolate.

She frowned, closing her eyes.

They snapped open again as she felt fatigue coming over her. That wouldn't do.

Deciding it would be best to finish her task she returned to her writing desk. With an odd presentiment she made a few hurried marks before rolling up the parchment and calling for her assistant.

No answer.

She cursed him under her breath and tried again. "Spike!" Sighing in frustration, she trotted upstairs, where the dragon was sure to be napping away. On the job.

"Spike...!" Moonlight streamed in through a window, and as she gazed upon the makeshift bed before her, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her legs trembled slightly.

The unkempt sheets. The slight indentations from where he had once rested. The shed scales. Twilight exhaled.

She could almost picture him.

Almost.

"S-Spike!" she gasped. Her eyes slowly grew moist. "Oh, Spike..."

Shaking, shivering, she stepped forward and knelt in front of the altar, laying her heard on it.

Next came the tears, flowing unabashedly as their distractions vanished. The memories rushed over her with speed, and kept her gasping for air. Nothing else mattered now- all there was left was the absence of a baby dragon.

Soon she would tire out. Then there were letters to write.