A/N: Alright, I want to start off by saying that none of these characters are mine. They are all Twi's, of TwiLane's! I really hope that she doesn't mind me using them, because I actually wrote this story as a Christmas gift for her.
I know that she has a story planned for her characters, I believe, and that it is not this plot at all. I just wanted to write something for her that might breath some life into her characters while she works on her other stories, and because she is an amazing friend. Even with my busy schedule and the fact that I sometimes vanish for weeks at end with no warning, she has still been there for me when I needed her.
Merry Christmas, Twi!
The snow is falling again, and frost begins to coat the very edges of Zecora's window. What isn't covered in the white dust is darkened by fog, as the world grows dark just outside of her hut.
The old zebra mare gives a slight huff, and even inside it comes out as misted air. "Winter will be here soon, and my only light appears to be the moon."
Her words are said to no one but herself, as she is the only thing inside of these dark wood walls. Outside, the creatures of the night do not care for her words and whispers and muttered warnings, for it is usually they themselves that they speak of.
Zecora looks outside of the window for a moment longer, and then she shuffles away from it and closer to the warmth of the crackling fire.
-x-x-x-
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle down the lane! Oh what fun it is to see Cornflower and Honey Crisp," sings Jubilee, as she prances down the near empty street. Her words are twisted and off-key and all but swallowed in the white covered land, but she sings them loud and clear anyways.
It's been snowing all night. She hopes that it's going to keep snowing, because that will mean that the lake will freeze over, and then she can go ice skating. But that will be later and this is now and, in this now, she is headed to the otherside of Ponyville to help her two best of friends out.
Winter swept in early this year, and there are a lot of plants that need to be harvested and seeds that need to be saved.
A cold wind sweeps through. On it, the young Earth mare swears she can hear someone talking.
A whisper on the wind, that is all I've ever been.
Jubilee pauses, ears pricking forward.
Though many years I have spent here, I now begin to fear.
She closes her eyes and takes a step away from the main road, trying to hear better.
Winter has come far too early, the others will see it surely.
The words are getting fainter, smothered by a new onslaught of falling snow.
I thought it would wait at least another year, but it seems that Sleet has finally shed her tears.
Jubilee opens her eyes, goes to take another step closer to that voice, which seems familiar and yet new all at once. The sound of Night Twinkle calling her name catches her attention instead.
-x-x-x-
"So we ain't gonna do nothin' for the Winter Solstice this year?" asks Honey Crisp, taken a back by his mother's announcement.
Applejack is not the richest of mares, nor does she have the most time on her hooves, but the Winter Solstice has always been important for her. They have a grand dinner in the middle of the month, just the family. They visit each of their friend's houses, one at a time, and give as much as they can. They visit the Everfree Forest, once every seven days, without fail.
But now, his mother is standing before him and her eyes seem so heavy, so dark. "That's what I said. We got too much work ta do, Crispy."
That's what she says. What she doesn't is heard just as loudly -
we don't have the money
we don't have the time
we don't have Caramel anymore, and I always had him help with everything
- and so Honey Crisp just nods agreeance and prepares for a long and lonely season.
-x-x-x-
"Cornflower! Cornflower!" Night Twinkle waves her hoof from the otherside of the fence, trying to catch the attention of the pale orange mare.
It takes a moment to catch her attention, and that bright smile is never shown. Cornflower sets down her basket, partially filled with blueberries, and gives the slightest of waves back. "Hey, guys. What are you doing here?"
Jubilee prances from hoof to hoof, just barely restraining herself from leaping over the fence and into the field. "Cornflower! I'm so glad you finally heard us! I was just coming by to see if you and Honey Crisp needed help out here and then I bumped into Night Twinkle and she was coming by for something too, so we came over together."
"Well, gee. That's awfully nice of you, Jubilee, but I'm sure that there are other things you must want to do aside from this," says Cornflower, and there's just the slightest bit of disdain there, like maybe she's the one who wants to be elsewhere, doing something else.
Which actually is the case, as Jubilee knows. Cornflower hates working in the fields - not because of dirt or grime or a lack of wanting to work, but because there are so many other things that she could be doing
wants to be doing
will never be doing, because her aunt needs all the help that can be given.
"Uhm, I hate to interupt, but I can't really stay. Mom just wanted me to come over and let your mom and aunt know that she isnt' going to be able to make it to dinner," says Night Twinkle, already taking a half-step backwards, already drooping just a little bit. "She's really busy with Gold Dust this week."
Cornflower blinks, tilts her head to the side. "She is? Well, what about you?"
The unicorn filly is already gone.
-x-x-x-
Again, comes Twilight Sparkle's voice, let's try it again, Gold Dust.
Wind Rider rolls her eyes, because this has to be the twentieth time that she's heard that today alone, and it's just now getting near the early hours of the morning. Dawn is beginning to creep in through frost covered windows, dappling the world and the books and setting everything a blaze.
"Yeah, Dusty," mutters Wind Rider, flipping the page of her year-worn book. "Give it another shot. Eventually, you're going to get to go home."
Magick surges through the room, warm and sickly sweet. A bright light follows and then the distinct smell of brimstone.
The young pegasus mare glances up from the faded lettering. Gold Dust is still standing in the middle of the Golden Oak Library, still looks very tired and worn and just a touch disappointed, still unable to teleport.
Unsurprising, thinks Wind Rider, as there has only ever been one case of a succesful teleportation spell, and it certainly wasn't done by some stallion in the first years of apprenticship, but instead by an anciant and powerful queen, long before even Queen Terra or Queen Midna, but by the very first mare to ever walk the lands.
And if Epona was only ever able to do it once, well, Wind Rider really can't help but admit that she finds this lesson a touch stupid.
-x-x-x-
Night Twinkle agrees, though she would never, ever say so. Doesn't even like to think of it, as she peers out at her mother and her friend from behind a mostly empty bookshelf.
This lesson has been going on for near a week. It will continue, Twilight Sparkle says, until Gold Dust has mastered it.
In the mean-time, Night Twinkle is the only one running the library.
-x-x-x-
Winter continues to come in, and it comes in swiftly. Small flurries turn into full out snowstorms, blocking ponies into their homes and keeping Cornflower away from the farm.
A good thing for the young filly. Not so much for her cousin, who stands in the barn alone that morning, breath coming out in harsh puffs of air. His harness is like ice, burns through his soft red coat, sears deep into skin and muscle and bone, all frozen metal and tough suede.
It's the first time that he's put it on since the accident and Applejack watches from the other side of the barn, where she is hooking a wagon to herself and readying to go out and search for any remaining crops that can still be saved and she looks so sad
so lost
so lonely, and Honey Crisp cannot help but smile at his mother, because if Caramel could do this job, could plow these field even in the dead of winter, than so can he.
-x-x-x-
The glade is normally calm and serene. A place of refugee from the stress of the city, a place to rest during a long journey, a sanctuary. Peaceful
quiet
relaxing, and Cornflower cannot help but wonder what has changed, because there is a buzz in the air as she walks into her small home, setting down the basket of poppies just inside of the door. "Mama?"
There is no answer, which is unusual.
"Papa?" she tries, a bit louder this time.
There is no answer, which is unheard of. Big Macintosh always answers her, always comes to see if he can help his daughter in anyway, and Cornflower might be more than a touch concerned as she walks further into her home, ears pricked forward, trying to find anything out of place.
She does, and it comes in the form of blood and dragonscent and bear.
-x-x-x-
Fluttershy does not loose animals, ever. This bear is no different, and steady hooves hold him down -
don't let him move
- as a steady mouth draws the needle through torn flesh and -
it looks like it stopped just before hitting bone
- blood stains a pale yellow coat and -
there won't be any going home for the winter this year, I'm afraid
- Cornflower realizes with a sinking feeling that they will do nothing this Winter Solstice. Not if her parents have to help rehab this injured beast.
And they will, because Fluttershy doesn't loose animals or let them down.
-x-x-x-
"Hey Windy?" questions Jubilee, voice small and surprisingly soft.
Wind Rider doesn't look up from her book, but her ears prick forward and she really, really is paying attention.
Jubilee shuffles
scuffs her hooves against the hardwood floor
finally drops down beside her pegasus friend with a heavy sigh. "I don't think that anyone else is going to come out on the Hunt with us this year."
A low hum, and Wind Rider bites on her lip. Doesn't look up from her book but, this time, it's more of a forced action. "I think you're right, Jubi."
Jubilee's ears droop, near vanishing into her large pouf of a mane. "It's not going to be anywhere near as fun with just the two of us, though! We won't be able to have teams or anything."
A lapse of silence. Wind Rider glances up, then forces her gaze back onto her page. "I'm not going to be able to go either, Jubi."
"I guess we can always just go against each other, and maybe we can get someone to make a list up for us in their free time," continues Jubilee, and it takes her a moment to slow down enough to truly comprehend what her friend is saying. "Wait...what?"
Wind Rider is still staring at the page. She must have read the same sentence eight times. "We're going to Canterlot to spend the season with Dad's family. I can't go with you. I'm really sorry."
-x-x-x-
Jubilee sits on her bed and stares at the blank sheet of paper in front of her. It has been there for nearly an hour and so has she and it's still got absolutely nothing written on it. There is nothing planned out for the Winter Hunt.
The earth mare cannot think of anything to look for and would it even be fun if she made the list herself anyways?
No, she decides, it won't be.
-x-x-x-
The kitchen is far warmer than the rest of the house, heated by the ever running oven. Cinnamon and cloves fill the air, and maybe a bit of ginger and nutmeg, but Jubilee isn't completely sure about that.
Her mother is the baker, after all. Not her. She takes more after her father, and cannot bake to save her life. Once even burnt water, though that's probably one of the few tales that she tries not to let everyone in on.
"Hey, mom?" asks Jubilee, padding closer to where the bright pink mare is standing, mixing some batter or another. Flour stains her pelt, stains her ever-young hair - which isn't going gray like her friends, but still vibrant and fully colored.
"Can you pull that pan out of the oven for me?" asks Pinkie Pie, and she's whisking so fast that batter is spilling over the edges of her bowl. "I almost forgot that they were in here, so I started this batch, but now I can't stop and the timer's going to go off right about - now!"
A bell chimes. Jubilee dutifully swoops over to the oven and, with the tatter mitt that hangs on its door, pulls the pan out. "Everyone's busy this month."
A low hum of agreeance. Pinkie Pie dumps the batter into a pan, uses a spatula to smooth its top. "Tell me about it! I've gotten twenty orders in this morning alone, and we're not even a full week in yet! I don't think the Corner's ever been this busy. It's great!"
A pause.
Jubilee sets the pan on the counter.
Smiles at her mom and nods and mutters her own agreeance, and then vanishes from the kitchen with quick, unnoticed steps. Behind her, Pinkie Pie continues to hum.
-x-x-x-
The world is cold and white and pure, and Jubilee loves it. Everything around her, it's what she has always wanted to be, what she will never be, and heat courses through her with each step.
Her hooves are not frozen. She is not cold. And so, Jubilee smiles and sings a small, off-key song to herself, and decides that she will go to Everfree herself.
Rather than a scavenger hunt, she will simply go and visit her Aunt Zecora.
-x-x-x-
By the time that Jubilee gets to the once famous hunt, the forest surrounding her has grown black as night. She cannot see the ground before her, but the trail is well-worn and easy to follow. Small plants try to crawl over the dirt path and hide it from view, snatch at Jubilee's hooves, but they can't.
Want too, but can't.
Want too, but can't.
Want too, like everything else in this forest, in this world, but their goal is just out of reach and Jubilee understands that.
They cannot send travellers wandering through the forest, and Jubilee cannot make use of the energy constantly thrumming through her veins.
So she watches them as she walks, watches her hooves, right up until the path ends and the small, age worn hut looms up before her. Frost coats the windows, coats the walls, and Jubilee grins.
"Aunti Zee-Zee," calls Jubilee, prancing over to the house. "Are you home?"
No one answers, and so Jubilee lets herself in.
-x-x-x-
"The seasons grow wild and untamed, ever angry at their lack of fame. Should I use my magick now? Or should I wait until someone else also knows how?" Zecora tilts her head to the side, peers off into the blackness of the forest.
It pulses. Breaths. Groans, but none of those noises are answers and they are not what the aged zebra are looking for. Something to the far
far
far left hisses. Zecora has to fight the urge not to look at it. Knows that, if her gaze and her focus shifts, then her link to the Fabled Lands will waver.
The zebra mare paws at the ground, her golden bangles clacking together. "Sleet has grown strong, and her actions are wrong. Am I too wrong for acting? Are my decisions lacking?"
A shimmer this time, as though the lines that make up reality are beginning to waver. Light purple eyes appear from the shadows, and they appear as though they are made of water, of slowly melting ice.
They are out of your control. Sleet shall be dealt with, but not by you. Save your Light, my loyal friend, until you have sparked one in another pony.
Zecora's ears twitch, and she doesn't know whether to be annoyed or upset or just distressed. "I thought that my journey was over, when I found that twelve leaf clover. Your sign was wrong. No one else in this town can hear your song."
Another pair of eyes, brighter this time. Big and blue and longing, made up of fallen rain and still flowing streams.
Just because she can't hear us, doesn't mean nopony can. You just have to look harder, my friend. Things are hidden away all of the time - and they are found just as often.
"So you have said, and for those words many times have I bled!" Zecora's chest is tight. She doesn't want to argue, but she doesn't know how much longer she can stay and aid the Elements of Harmony when they are not the ponies that she is truly looking for. "I am still alone, and no one else has had any talent shown!"
A third set of eyes, less sharp than the other two. Steady dripping honey and liquid gold stare at her, and they look almost as they are smiling at her.
My loyal friend, do not give up just yet. I know that this road has been a hard one for you, and it is nowhere near the end...but we cannot do it on our own. There are many ponies here with the talent that we need, that you hold. Please, just keep looking!
And so Zecora does, because she always agrees in the end.
-x-x-x-
"Have you been waiting long?" questions Zecora, nudging the door closed behind her. With it closed, the howling of the wind is completely hidden away.
And Jubilee has been. Nearly all night, actually. But she grins and shakes her head and laughs it away, just as her mother has always taught her too. "No, not really. I was just wondering if you were going to be doing anything for the Winter Solstice this year? Everyone else has plans so I guess that you must too."
Zecora smiles, soft and gentle, and shrugs off her dark cloak. "Not really, young one. My friends have all found lives of their own, and seem to have no time to share with some."
It shouldn't make the young mare happy, but it does. That she is not the only one alone this Winter. That she may still have someone to spend the long days, where that energy deep within grows near chaotic, near uncontrollable, and her mother is not around to help work through it.
Her grin widens. Zecora's eyes shine. Outside, three ethereal mares watch and know, deep within, that one of the Lights will soon be sparked.