//------------------------------// // Grown-Ups Are Silly // Story: Mother // by chillbook1 //------------------------------// “Princess Celestia? Where does mommy go when it’s time for school?” Celestia peered at her student with an amused sort of curiosity. The little filly before her never ceased to surprise. Just an hour earlier, Twilight was solving quantum theorems. Now, she was asking about her mommy at lunchtime. Twilight was incredibly smart for a child her age. Though only enrolled in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns for a few months, she had already caught the attention of the princess herself. Now, she studied directly under Celestia, who was nice enough to answer most questions the inquisitive filly over lunch. “Your mother is at work,” said Celestia. Twilight nodded, as if she expected that answer, then took a bite if her peanut butter sandwich. “Why?” asked Twilight. “Why? Well, that is something of a hard question to answer,” said Celestia with a sigh. “Your mother is an expert on ancient languages, and she is vital to translating books that are older than Equestria itself.” “So she works because she's important?” “Well… Perhaps that is part of it. However, there are two reasons larger. For one, it makes her happy.” Celestia could see the confusion etched onto Twilight's face. “Twilight, dear, what is the maximum of seven times sine of four times x-pi divided by six plus one?” Twilight didn't see the connection, but she was happy to answer the question anyway. She closed her eyes in thought for a bit, running the numbers through her head. Celestia smiled at how focused and serious the filly got sometimes. “The maximum is eight,” reported Twilight confidently. “Very good, Twilight,” said Celestia. The wide, toothy grin that Twilight gave the princess warned her soul. “That feeling right there. The way you feel after getting a difficult problem correct. That is how your mother feels every day at work.” “Oh. That makes sense, I guess.” Twilight used her magic to carefully raise a juicebox and stick it with a straw, then took a deep sip. “But you said there were two reasons.” “So I did. Your mother, Twilight, loves you very much. I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” asked Celestia. Twilight shook her head vigorously, making her hair dance to and fro. “Well, how do you know that your mother loves you?” Twilight had to think about it for a while, because it wasn’t terribly obvious. She reasoned that the princess was looking for some underlying reasons, something less obvious than the “I love you, Twilight” that was so often repeated before bed. Twilight tried to dig deep to answer the question. “She says that she wants to help me be the best I can be,” said Twilight. “She wants me to be successful. I think that’s how I know.” Celestia didn’t respond, so Twilight tried to think of something else. “Oh! And she says that she’s proud of me all the time. That’s love, right?” “Yes, Twilight. That’s exactly it. And, just as she is proud of you, she wants for you to be proud of her,” said Celestia. Twilight tilted her head, the very idea of an adult as smart and important as her mother seeking acknowledgment blowing her filly mind. “I don’t understand,” said Twilight. “Why would a grown-up want me to be proud of her? That’s silly.” “I want to let you in on a little secret,” said Celestia, barely stifling her giggles. Twilight leaned in as if Celestia was on her last breath and held the secrets of the universe. “Your opinion matters more to your mother than anypony else’s.” “Huh?” “What I mean is that your mother, your father, too, care about what you have to say the most. If they understand that you are proud of them, they aren’t concerned with anything that anypony else has to say.” “If I’m proud of her, mommy doesn’t care about what anypony says?” asked Twilight, just to make sure that she understood correctly. “That is correct.” “Not even you?” “No, Twilight,” Celestia said with a grin. “Not even me.” Twilight was floored. How could that be? Even if it was true, how could her parents not think she was proud of them? They were the smartest, strongest, most amazing ponies she ever met. “But I am proud,” said Twilight. “If I tell mommy that, will she stop working?” “No, not exactly. You know how your mother always tells you to keep trying to get better?” asked Celestia. Twilight nodded. “The same applies to her. She wants to keep making you proud, so she has to keep working.” “Hm… I don’t get grown-ups,” said Twilight. “If they have all this important stuff to say, why not just come out and say it? How are ponies supposed to understand each other if they keep saying crazy stuff in riddles?” Celestia smirked, rising to her hooves. “Perhaps grown-ups are a little silly,” admitted the princess. “But we are not silly without reason. Perhaps we are silly so our children have something to teach us.” Twilight gave a grin and a nod, agreeing that Celestia was probably correct. “Okay, Twilight. Time to clean up and get back to your studies.” “Wait, Princess Celestia! I had one more question,” said Twilight. Celestia motioned for her to continue. “If my mommy is at work all the time, where is yours?” At first, Twilight thought she may have said something wrong. The way Celestia grimaced scared Twilight for just a second. Quickly after, though, Celestia regained her composure. As if it had never happened. “I… I lost my mother a long time ago, Twilight,” said Celestia quietly. She closed her eyes and let out a wistful sigh. “Oh, how I miss her so.” “If you miss her so much, why don’t you look for her?” asked Twilight, gathering up her debris from lunch. “You said she’s lost?” “Not lost like that. Sometimes, a pony gets sick and no amount of bedrest or hot soup or orange juice will make them better. Sometimes, these ponies are just… lost.” “Can’t you get a new mommy?” This time, Twilight was positive that she misspoke. Celestia’s eyes burned with fury for a small second, which was more anger than Twilight had ever seen in the princess. Celestia dropped her calm, friendly tone and spoke more firmly. “Absolutely not. Family is irreplaceable,” said Celestia. “You cannot just find a new one.” “Not replace her. Just have another. Like I did,” said Twilight. “Like you did? You have a second mother?” “Yup! And, if it weren’t for my real mommy, she’d be the best mommy ever!” “Oh? And who is that mother?” asked Celestia. Twilight looked incredulously. She thought that grown-ups must have been really silly if even Princess Celestia was confused. “It’s you, of course. You're my mommy when my real mommy isn’t around,” explained Twilight, showing off her toothiest grin. Celestia returned it after just a moment of thought, then helped Twilight to clear their lunch table. What Celestia failed to think about was the fact that Twilight never asked for information she didn’t intend to use. She wasn’t the type to waste time with pointless questions. Twilight filed all of what she learned during her conversation away, intending to use it the next Sunday. Twilight trotted down the halls, a saddlebag fastened tightly to her body. She didn’t actually have to be in Canterlot Castle right then, as it was a Sunday and she didn’t have any studies scheduled. Still, there was something very important that she had to do, and she wasn’t about to let something little like a day-off stop her. Twilight skipped through the corridors, eventually skidding to a stop in front of a set of gorgeous, ornate golden doors. Doing her best to remain silent, Twilight opened up her saddlebag and gripped an envelope between her teeth. She bent her head down and slipped it beneath the door. Twilight, satisfied with her work, turned to leave. Twilight heard the doors whoosh open, causing her to freeze in her tracks. “Twilight?” said Celestia, rubbing her eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?” “Oh, well, I-I…” Twilight stammered, her cheeks flushing pink. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but…” She bent down and grabbed the envelope, offering it to Celestia. The princess lifted the envelope out of Twilight’s grasp with her magic. “I guess you can open it now.” Celestia nodded, then split the seal of the envelope with her magic. She removed its contents, a simple, folded piece of golden construction paper. It was fine art by a child’s standards, but still adorably crude. The cover was simple, with nothing but a few simple words. Happy Mother’s Day Celestia didn’t really understand what she was looking at, not at first. She stared at the words as if she was looking at a blank sheet for several moments before the words had any sort of significance. When she had absorbed it all, she smiled. “Is this for me?” asked Celestia. Twilight nodded vigorously, beaming her excitement into Celestia’s being. “You don’t have a filly or colt to give you a card, so I made one during arts and crafts last week!” said Twilight brightly. “Do you like it?” Celestia opened up the card, prepared to find a cute, crude drawing of the two doing things that they typically did. Instead, she was met with her favorite poem. She had read it to Twilight once, their first study session together. It was how Celestia opened her first Literature lesson. She explained that the poem, Harmony, was written by her great-great grandmother, and that it had been passed down from generation to generation. Celestia explained that she wanted to share it with the world, starting with Twilight. The young filly, who was surely terrified of everything happening, had clearly remembered how important Harmony was to the princess. “I love it, Twilight. I positively love it.” Celestia spread her wings and wrapped them around Twilight. Twilight nuzzled against Celestia’s neck, smiling widely. She couldn’t imagine a better scenario than this. “I love you, Princess Celestia,” said Twilight. Celestia planted a soft kiss on Twilight’s forehead. “And I love you, my student,” said Celestia. “And I love you.”