The great doors to Celestia’s private study twisted and warped as multi-coloured crystals forced their way through the wood, rapidly growing from the inside. Shattering, Cadence stepped through the now empty doorway.

“You had better have a good explanation for this!” Cadence pawed at the ground, horn slightly lowered.

Celestia sat at her desk, blowing lightly on her levitating cup of tea, the picture of tranquility. “Ah, Cadence. I wondered who it was going to be. In retrospect you do make the most sense. Please let us have a seat.” She gestured to a pile of pillows in front of a nearby window as she stood from her desk.

Cadence didn’t move. “Of course it’s me. Everyone else probably thinks it was their idea. That’s how you work. That’s how you always work!”

Celestia sat on her largest pillow and took the tiniest sip of her tea. “Perhaps it was their idea. I’m not nearly as responsible for events as many ponies think.”

Cadence continued to glare, unimpressed.

Celestia sighed. “Very well. But look at the whole situation. Is it really that bad?”

“Really that bad? REALLY THAT BAD? You turned the filly I used to foalsit in to a pre-teen mother! She can’t possibly understand the responsibility you’ve placed on her. And don't get me started on the baby himself. How could you think this was a good idea?”

“Your concern honours them, but Twilight will hardly be alone in raising young Spike. Her position as his guardian will likely be honorary for many years to come. But she did hatch him and she does feel responsible towards him. Though I think, if you were to ask her, that she does not think of herself as a mother.”

“How does that make it any better? That just means that we need to worry about his development as well.” Cadence huffed.

“I think you’ll find that dragons are very hardy creatures, even baby dragons.”

Cadence gesticulated wildly at this. “And that’s another thing! If this is something that could happen at all why would you even use a dragon egg?”

“You would rather Spike not have been hatched?” Celestia cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Cadence’s glare redoubled.

“Of course not. And it was unfair of me to imply that.” Celestia regarded her Sun through the window for a moment. Standing, she approached her niece. “It was, of course, terribly unfair of me to let Twilight take on such a responsibility, even if it is in name only. But she needs this. She’s already so disconnected from ponykind, she needs an anchor, someone she doesn't see as either irrelevant or infallible. You remember her surge, few beings besides a dragon would be able to survive her inevitable mistakes. Dragon eggs are always the ‘final test’ for ponies in her situation.”

Cadence grimaced. “So you are saying that a pony with her kind of power has her kind of personality needs grounding.”

“Such extremes are rare. Rarer still for one pony to possess both. But I have arranged things such that when it does happen it solves itself. And of course I will be nearby to ensure that they are both well treated, by each other and anyone else.”

Cadence shuffled, her righteous fury ebbing. “What if… what if they never realize they are a family? What if Spike never calls Twilight ‘mom’?”

Celestia embraced Cadence. “There are many ways to be a family. Perhaps they will one day think of themselves as mother and child, or perhaps siblings, or maybe they will go their whole lives without feeling the need to label what they have. I don’t know what their future holds.” Celestia kissed Cadence on the forehead. “But I know this. Family endures.”

Cadence hugged back.