"[Filly NMM] Hearth's Warming"
By 8th-Sin (https://pastebin.com/u/8th-Sin)

URL: https://pastebin.com/4FdSiD7b
Created on: Friday 16th of December 2016 08:03:53 PM CDT
Retrieved on: Sunday 9 of May 2021 08:38:41 PM UTC


“Looks like this day has finally come,” you mutter to yourself with a great wave of dread washing over you.
>You stare deeply into your own eyes in the bathroom mirror. 
>Your eyes look weary, your hands are hardened from all the years you’ve worked, while your skin’s colour and texture is closer to leather now that it’s lost much of its volume and smoothness. 
>You’ve had all these for many years and it has never bothered you. 
>Looking back into the mirror you sternly glare at your beard.
>“Are you ready yet?” Moonie calls out down the hallway.
“Gimme one more minute,” you cry back in an irate tone.
>The top of your head is bare because your bizarre dread of this day, that and pony mane dye doesn’t work properly in your hair. 
>So you never really noticed these grey hairs. Hairs as in plural. 
>There are so many little greys that adorn your chin mane. 
>You eye the tweezers then decide to pluck one. You grip it tightly then pull quickly in hopes you can grunt through the pain. 
>But you soon find out that even that isn’t possible for you. 
>A few wild spams, flailing about for no reason other than pain, and lots of cursing happen before you pull yourself together.
“Alright, I’m ready,” you call out as you leave the bathroom only for a dark blur to whizz right under your legs and into the bathroom.
>“About time!”
“We don’t have long you know.”
>“Then why did you take so long,” shouts Moonie as she throws something at the door.

>You let out a sigh step into the lounge room to look around the room for something interesting. 
>There’s not, because you’re not the decorating type, then again there is one lazy mare adorning your couch.
“Trixie, you really need to get off of the couch once in awhile. How goes either of those jobs?
>Trixie rolls her eyes at you as she twists her body away from you while her head and eyes stay locked on you.
“Why don’t you come with us?” You state with a sweet smile.
>“The sweet and benevolent Trixie will not intrude on your father-daughter bonding time,” she mocks, “Besides, this time of year isn’t really… Trixie’s thing.”
“You and me both,” you sigh deeply.
>“Then why are you going?”
“Bonding.”
>You give her a confused look, she just said the reason why you are going only a moment ago.
>Was she kidding before or is she joking now? 
>It’s hard to gauge the magnificently lazy mare who hasn’t gotten up all day and yet somehow looks about two winks away from falling asleep from exhaustion. 
>Trixie goes silent for a minute, however she stares at you intently the whole time until she opens her mouth to speak before immediately shutting it.
“What?” You dryly ask.
>“You have still yet to tell Trixie how you two met.”
“I haven’t?”
>She shakes her head and finally gets up. Her hooves are still only the couch as she leans on the back so she can intently focus on you. 
>It’s almost as if she expects the whole story now. 
>Thankfully Moonie’s hoofsteps can be heard coming down the hallway before you can say anything.
“Well, I’m heading off. Another time though. Maybe when I have a drink in my system or something.”
>“Trixie always thought of you as one of those no fun allowed types.”
“Not today I’m not.”
>“Of course not,” she sarcastically pokes her tongue out at you.

>“You know, the princess probably like hearing you flirt like that.”
“Actually, I need to talk about that--”
>“Oh, look! There’s the festival.”
>She is off before she even finishes her sentence. 
>You wonder why the two of you had to go together if she is going to dart off at the first sign of pretty lights. 
>Instead of letting that bug you, shrug it off and also decide to leave that bit of sorry news, about you and the princess, for another day. 
>You’d like to see Moonie enjoy a holiday that isn’t centred around her and terrifying others.
>“Anon, over here,” beckons Moonie.
>She is standing in front of a cotton candy stand operated by a cheery little mare looking for your wallet.
“Alright, how much?”
>“Well, it depends how big you want to go,” the attendant replies.
>“ALL OF IT,” beams Moonie.
“Not a chance.”
>“Come on. It’s the holidays and the little filly wants a treat.”
>You eye her with an unyielding glare. You’re not one of those pushovers who give into a kid’s every demand. 
>She isn’t phased though, that same overly cheery smile beams from her face as if she knows she’ll get what she is after. 
>“What if I get the large then?” Moonie tries compromising with hope.
“You’ll have no other snacks for the night then.”
>“Psht, extra medium then.”
>You hold out the bits then mutter to the attendant, “the large, please.”
>The attendant’s grin starts glowing as if to warn nearby ships of danger. 
>She and Moonie get what they want. 
>But who cares. 
>She’s right, it’s the holidays. 
>You’re willing to spoil Moonie and little more than you usually do.  You just wish you could do that without seeing this many teeth from the attendant.
>“So, who are you meant to be?” The attendant asks as she weaves the cotton candy.
“Snowfall Frost.”
>She gives you a disapproving glance while Moonie radiates a smug aura.
“It was the only way I could get her to come,” you lie as you take the puffy pink cloud of sugar on a stick.
>“Woah, this is huge.”
>Moonie takes it in her magic and begins digging in as she darts around the other stalls looking at their food. 
>She doesn’t ask for any but you imagine she’s getting recon done for when the cotton candy is gone. 
>As she is off and enjoying all the splendour, you hang back a bit. Eyeing the stage where the Ponyville Hearth’s Warming Eve performance will take place.
>“Anon?”
>You can’t help but feel a little bit of dread. Every year so far you’ve avoided coming to these events. 
>It’s not your thing.
>“Anon~?”
>But today is an important day. For you, for Mayor Mare, for Moonie, and even the whole town. So you need to be here.
>“Anon,” calls out the voice one more time, this time they nudge you a little.
“Oh, hello… Mayor Mare.”
>The mayor gives a sigh of relief.
>“I was going to ask you to give the opening speech but given how intently you were staring at the stage there--”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
>“It’s alright,” she interjects with a hoof, “I know you’re nervous. Still, I would like you to introduce the play so every pony knows you’re here.”
>You nod and Mayor graciously smiles before heading off as she’s got a lot to do. 
>She said she wanted to catch up with every pony she knew during the festival, and given she’s the mayor of such a close community, that’s pretty much everyone.
>“Anon, I want Hearth’s Warming frittatas.”
>Moonie points to the nearby stall with the confectionary cloud gone.
“There is no way you ate that this quickly.”
>“How dare you underestimate your queen like that.”
>You shrug and just give in, buying her 4 frittatas before telling her to take it easy. 
>Though, you know she won’t. It’s Nightmare Night all over again. 
>The two of you walk along, neither really leading as Moonie eats her food.
>“So, what’s with the grey?”
“What?”
>Her quick and nonchalant way of asking feels like a sudden slap in the face as you stand there for the briefest moment in a daze.
>“Your beard,” she says, chewing with her mouth open, “It’s going grey. Are you getting old.”
>Moonie slyly smirks at you and while you have now caught onto what she’s doing, she still has you by surprise.
“It’s stress.”
>Mentally you kick yourself for lacking any kind of wit right now. 
>You try your best to subtly take a deep breath to help compose yourself. 
>It doesn’t quite work, but you do notice Moonie has composed herself a little and stopped. 
>Now you’re standing away from the festival a little, at least out of earshot of every pony.
>“Hey… How long do humans live for?” Moonie asks in a very sombre tone.
>Her eyes stare at you with a piercing intent, unwilling to break for fiercely that even you can’t turn away from them.
“For a very, very long time,” you reply as you squat down to her level, “I’m not going anywhere.”
>With a warming smile and slightly open arms in case a hug is needed, you feel like you’re being as reassuring and comforting as possible. 
>Moonie however makes a complete about-face and heads off while chatting away to the open breeze about what other foods she wants to try before the show because you hang there for a moment. 
>Still squatting alone. 
>Burying your face into your hands, you resist as best you can the urge to scream.
“One last snack,” you call back as you catch up, “the show is about to start.”

>Moonie convinces you to get her a small bag of pastries and some popcorn. You pinch a small hand full before darting around backstage.
>“Ah, Anonymous. No time, you’re on,” Mayor Mare gibber jibber jabbers as she shoves you on stage.
>“Watch your step,” bellows Moonie, clearly with a mouth full of food.
“Heh, well first I should thank you all for coming. I’m Anonymous, the human.”
>“Obviously~!” Moonie rudely shouts once again.
“Once more and you’re grounded for a month,” you dryly reply which causes most of the audience to give a brief laugh, “Let me introduce our performance for tonight. Cheerilee and Pinkie worked very hard together to write a whole new performance which will be performed by Miss Cheerilee’s class. The kids did everything themselves; costumes, props, the set, all of it. And it looks great. So please give a warm stamp and cheer for tonight’s performers.”
>With that you step off stage as the little children scamper on in their various outfits. 
>You even spot one poor colt as a tree. 
>Honestly, you’ve always thought that kind of thing was a joke, but here you are looking at one. 
>You find Moonie sitting a few rows back and onto the edge with a spare seat beside her for you.
“Why did you move over here?”
>The Mayor had reserved front row seats for the two of you after all.
>“The only person your height are the princesses. Nobody wants a great lanky dolt blocking their view.”
“Oh, right,” you mutter.
>She has a good point, you just feel wounded that Moonie of all people pointed out how you were being inconsiderate.
>“This is the tale of a far away land’s version of Hearth’s Warming,” a shy colt states to the audience dressed in what you can overly describe as a puffy bard costume.
“You didn’t,” you mutter to Moonie.
>“It was too easy of a sell really. A fat human that gives presents for being good? Pinkie didn’t need any more convincing.”
>You sigh deeply into your hands, holding back a loud groan as the play continues.

>The play goes on, it’s a simple story really. 
>A human, played by a filly who is constantly struggling to stand on her hind legs like you, is transformed by the ‘human gods’ into a fat old man who must reward all the well behaved kids each year.
>The ‘human’ resists naturally but eventually their stubbornness is overcome by good nature, and a wish to see kids smile. 
>You also can’t help but notice the filly playing the human has a bald cap and a fake beard that looks a lot like yours until it greys and grows. 
>The whole time Moonie beams at you while stuffing her face with the seemingly endless box of popcorn.

“What a wonderful little tale,” you remark as you head back on stage once the show is over, “I actually had no idea there was going to be a story based on events back in my motherland. Thank you kids. Now there will be a few more acts to go on, such as some carolling but first, Mayor Mare would like to say a few words.”
>You gesture towards the stage right as the mayor steps out. Mares and stallions stamp, fillies and colts cheer as you smile at just how beloved the mayor of this town is. Then you do a nervous swallow as she takes the mic.
>“Greetings every pony. I hope you’re all having a great time, I know I am. What a wonderful show that was, also I couldn’t help but notice that Anon, your beard has begun to grey. Can the children of Ponyville expect gifts this year, or does the transformation take time?” she states in her usually cheery demeanour that everyone has grown accustomed to, “Now I have some bittersweet news. Princess Celestia has asked me, personally, to aside with things up in Canterlot.”
>The crowd works up into a thundering applause and hollering of pride for Mayor Mare. 
>And who wouldn’t? 
>She works so hard and even the princess recognises that.
>“Unfortunately, this means I’d have to leave this town I love so dearly, and all of you. Of course, I will visit often. But I know you will all be in the safest of hands. I have known Anonymous for many years, and have had the honour of working beside him for two of them. He works just as diligently as I. Plus, I’ll be stopping in to make sure he doesn’t sleep on the job,” she proudly jests.
>The audience laughs too and stamps a little before Mayor Mare speaks up again.
>“I will miss you all. Thank you for letting me the mayor of this wonderful town. Anonymous, please take care of them.”
“Only the best of care, Minister Mare” you reply.
>You notice Mayor Mare has begun tearing up a little. Not enough for people to see, you think. 
>But you quickly take the reigns and introduce the carolling act so the two of you can head off stage. 
>There you share a moment of joy and sorrow in a warming hug. 
>“Minister Mare, huh?”
“Yeah, it fits,” you grin.
>“It has a nice ring to it.”
“You’ll always be Mayor Mare though.”
>“Thank you,” she murmurs into your chest.
>Then the two of you head out for the night where you are both swarmed by ponies. 
>Everyone Mayor Mare meets wants to say goodbye and that they’ll miss her. 
>You however are swamped with concerns and wishes. 
>Even when you break free of that crowd, ponies are constantly walking up to you all night. 
>It is so bad at one point, Moonie decides to head off on her own, leaving you to the chatty masses.

>You finally return home, alone. 
>Trixie is snoozing partly on the couch and partly on the floor. She is going to have some aching joints in the morning based on that angle. 
>You consider fixing her up but you do have a spare bed, and her wagon is fixed so this will serve her right. 
>Before you head to bed, you check in on Moonie’s room to find an empty bed.
>The covers and pillows have been moved around so obviously she has been in it.
“Moonie,” you gently call out as you search the house.
>You wander into the kitchen and notice the subtle creak of the backyard swing so you walk over. 
>There Moonie is, swinging back and forth while looking up at the sky. 
>You sit on the opposite site of the yard, in your hammock. Looking over to Moonie as you swing a little yourself.
“Hey.”
>“Hey...”
“How come you’re out here?”
>“I can’t sleep. Ate too many snacks,” she laughs softly.
“I really do spoil you too much,” you murmur back as you look up into the sky.
>The lights glow and twinkle as the stars shoot around to arrange a painting for tonight’s canvas. 
>That means somewhere out there Luna is working her magic. Suddenly disheartened, you lie back into the hammock.
>There’s a silence that hangs in the air for what feels like the longest while before Moonie speaks up, “Congratulations on becoming the mayor, I guess.”
“You guess?”
>She just shrugs at you. However you’re not willing to let silence fill a gap once again.
“What is wrong? You’ve kind of been funny all week.”
>“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. I know something is bothering you.”
>Again she shrugs.
“Come here.”
>Moonie looks over to you, curiously but apathetic.
“Please.”
>With a sigh, Moonie wanders over and you lift her up into the hammock beside you. 
>The two of you have to adjust a little but she is able to sit there beside you.
>“I can fly you know.”
“Yeah, I know. But I like to feel like you’re still a tiny little filly I can harass as I please.”
>“Be wary of your Queen’s temper,” Moonie grumbles as she lies down, resting her head on your belly while she stares at you.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. It’s okay. But I worry, and I’m here if you need me, okay?”
>You run your fingers through her mane and so she closes her eyes to enjoy the sensation of your fingers parting her almost ethereal locks. 
>She seems to take a slow breathe as you comfort her. 
>Then once again, things fall silent. 
>You stare up into the sky above, still running your fingers through Moonie’s mane as the softest breeze blows and noisy crickets echo in the distance.
>“I just m--... It’s been hard, to spend time with you lately. You know?”
“I know,” you sigh with a dejected sense, “But I’m the boss now. I decide my hours and everything. But, I’ve also… Cleared other stuff in my schedule. I’ve got all my time, that isn’t work, to spend with you. Alright?”
>“Alright.”
>She seems a little more at ease, as far as you can tell.
“I guess Trixie is going to need a little bit of that time too. I need to that mare to get back to work, or find her a new job.”
>“I could help?”
“Oh? How?”
>“I’ve always wanted a rug for my throne room.”
“Heh, no skinning your teachers.”
>You pet her once again as the two of you rock side to side, enjoy the rest of the tranquil night under the stars.
