“Ooh, this one is no good either.” Twilight shook her head, her horn glowing as she pulled her latest draft of the letter off her desk and wadded it up into a ball before tossing it into the garbage. “Ugh. Why is this so hard to write?” “You know, you don’t need to write a four page letter,“Ooh, this one is no good either.” Twilight shook her head, her horn glowing as she pulled her latest draft of the letter off her desk and wadded it up into a ball before tossing it into the garbage. “Ugh. Why is this so hard to write?” “You know, you don’t need to write a four page letter,” Spike said, tapping the side of the overflowing gift basket. “I’m pretty sure that the gifts you got her say enough.” “But that’s just it, Spike! How can a few things and a few dozen words tell Princess Celestia just how much she means to me?” Twilight slumped forward, resting her chin on the cool wooden desktop. “Well, the basket does say ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ on it.” Spike ran his claw over the woven surface of the basket, the pink letters gleaming against the woven purple wicker. Twilight shook her head. “But she’s [i]not[/i] my mother! She’s just… you know…” “I know.” Spike hopped down from the stool he had been standing on and walked over to Twilight, setting his claw on her shoulder. “She’s special to me, too. Heck, you said she helped raise me.” He sighed, his hand falling back to his side. “Though that’s before I can remember.” Twilight smiled gently and set her hoof on top of Spike’s head, gently ruffling his spines. “Me, too. I mean, not that she was my mother or anything, but spending so much time around her at school, it felt like she was more than just a teacher, you know?” Spike nodded. “I know. But why not just say that in your letter? I mean, how many words does it take to say ‘You’re not my mom, but you’re totally awesome’?” “But it has to be perfect!” Spike glanced at the full wastebasket. “And none of these were good enough?” He bent over to pick the top one out and began reading, his eyes flicking over the crumpled paper. “This seems pretty good.” Twilight stomped her hoof into the carpet. “Pretty good isn’t good enough!” “I dunno. I mean, I’d be pretty happy getting a letter like this. If I was Princess Celestia, that is. Why don’t you just send this one? I can just stick it in the basket—” “No!” Twilight’s wings flared. “It’s all wrinkled! And I left out the story about how she taught me to sing, and how much I appreciate her going through all that trouble for months and months to teach me something that didn’t have anything to do with my studies!” Spike sighed. “Well, it’s getting late. I mean, she lowered the Sun fifteen minutes ago, and you’ve already been at this all afternoon. If I don’t send the basket soon, it won’t [i]be[/i] Mother’s Day anymore.” “It will just be another fifteen minutes,” Twilight said, her horn glowing as she pulled out a fresh piece of paper and set it out on her desk. “That’s what you said an hour ago. And [i]two[/i] hours ago.” Spike wadded the wrinkled letter back into a ball and tossed it back into the wastebasket. “How about I just send the basket, and when you finish writing the letter, I send that too?” “I don’t know, Spike. I mean, what if she takes it the wrong way? What if she thinks I’m being too intimate? What if it makes things awkward for her?” Spike groaned. “Twilight. You know she cares about you. I’m sure she’ll love getting a present from you. It’s not like anypony else sends her stuff on Mother’s Day.” “Actually, a lot of ponies who grew up in orphanages send her letters. It’s tradition.” Twilight licked her lips as she wrapped her quill in her magic, quickly and precisely writing Princess Celestia’s name across the top of the paper before she paused, tapping the tip of the feather against her lips. “Now, what should I start with?” “Ugh. Look, I’m sending the basket.” Twilight’s head shot up. “No, Spike, wait!” Green flames licked across the tabletop, the wicker basket and its contents vanishing in a bust of flame. “Too late.” Spike smirked. “Now you [i]have[/i] to finish the letter.” “Ugh.” Twilight slumped back over the desk, her face rubbing up against the all too blank sheet of paper. “Are you sure everything was in there? Did you remember to put in the framed photograph?” “And that pendant thingy you had Rarity make that has your cutie marks stuck together. [i]And[/i] that crystal you enchanted that shows you two hugging when you look inside.” Spike ticked off the gifts on his claw. “Relax. You’ll be fine.” Twilight sighed heavily, her breath rattling the paper on her desk. “I hope so, Spike.” “I know so.” Spike gave her another pat on the shoulder, then a hug around the neck. “Say, how about I go and make you something? You in the mood for pancakes?” Twilight smiled anemically. “I’d love some. Thank you.” “I’ll be back a jiffy.” Spike saluted, then turned on his heel and let himself out of the library, closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. Twilight stared at the tinted glass door for a moment before she sighed again, her eyes returning to the blank letter. “But I still don’t know what to write.” Licking her lips, Twilight pushed away from the desk and began to pace, her hooves clicking quietly against the patterned floor. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that her castle was so ornate. It was very pretty to look at, but when she was procrastinating – like she knew she was doing right now – it was all too easy for her to let her eyes wander over the smooth swirls to where they joined with the jagged crystals as she tried to imagine how the same process gave rise to both circles and smooth faces. She bit her lip. This really shouldn’t be so hard for her. But after Princess Celestia had mentioned that she missed Twilight’s old friendship reports, it seemed like she [i]had[/i] to write something special for her. Sure, it wasn’t an official assignment, but as Princess of Friendship, she should have realized how important those letters about her life were to her friend. She’d practically stopped writing personal letters without even realizing it! Maybe it was just as simple as that. Turning sharply, Twilight trotted back to her desk, plucking her quill from her inkwell with newfound determination. “Dear Princess Celestia…” [hr] Four pages later, Twilight had to admit that she probably should have condensed things down a little bit. Still, she was making real progress. And Spike was right; sure, maybe writing about that time she’d fallen down and scraped her knees and Princess Celestia came along to disinfect her wounds didn’t deserve a [i]full[/i] page, but it was the thought that counted, right? The sound of the door opening behind her broke her from her writing. “Oh, hey, Spike. Are the pancakes already done?” “I’m afraid he was still cooking them when I let myself in.” The sound of Princess Celestia’s voice forcibly jerked Twilight’s gaze away from her desk. “Princess Celestia! I didn’t realize you were coming!” Twilight looked back at her unfinished letter, her eyes widening. “I’m sorry! I was writing you a letter, but I got so caught up in writing it, I didn’t send it along with the basket, but Spike said that Mother’s Day was almost over, and I—” Princess Celestia laughed. “It’s alright, Twilight.” The tall alicorn stepped forward to throw a gold-shod hoof over Twilight’s withers. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to get a Mother’s Day gift from you at all, let alone several.” She tilted her head slightly. “Was there some sort of occasion?” “Well, I figured I’d make up for lost time.” Twilight smiled sheepishly, leaning into Celestia’s side as she looked up at her former mentor. “I mean, me with my castle, you with yours, trying to help out Starlight Glimmer – who is off with her parents today, by the way, that was a really good suggestion you gave me about your family being your first friends, and so she should try and reconnect with her roots – and you mentioned that you missed my friendship reports, and—” Twilight took a deep breath, only to be silenced by the gentle touch of Celestia’s hoof. “I meant, why did you choose Mother’s Day to honor me with a gift?” Celestia sought Twilight’s eyes with her own, her purple eyes brimming with the warmth and kindness Twilight had come to expect. “Well, I was just thinking about how much I missed you, and it all kind of clicked, you know?” Twilight smiled. “I mean, you were always there for me when I was growing you. You went out of your way to spend time with me. You practically helped raise me.” Twilight’s eyes fell back on her desk. “I was just thinking about the time you bandaged up my knees after I tried that levitation spell with Moondancer back in second grade.” Celestia glanced over at the desk, then down at the overflowing wastepaper basket beside it. “Were those also for me?” Twilight rubbed her mane sheepishly. “I’ve kind of been at it for a while. It’s hard to put into words, you know?” Celestia’s horn glowed as she plucked the top sheet out of the garbage, unwrapping it with her magic. “Don’t read that! I was going to write another one! And edit it!” Celestia’s eyes scanned the page before she sat back on her rump, letting the paper slip from her magic and drift slowly down towards the floor. “It’s wonderful.” Her eyes shimmered as she looked back at Twilight, her gaze flickering across the younger pony’s face. “And you aren’t angry with me?” Twilight blinked. “Why would I be angry?” “For abandoning you.” “What? Why would I feel like you’d abandoned me? You’ve always been there for me.” Twilight chuckled nervously. “I mean, I felt a [i]little[/i] weird when you sent me to Ponyville, but you knew what you were doing. I wouldn’t trade my friends here for anything.” She paused for a moment. “Unless you’re talking about the whole Queen Chrysalis thing. I mean, I was pretty upset, but you were tricked, the same as everypony else.” Celestia bowed her head. “You showed a great deal of compassion for myself and your brother in the wake of the Green Wedding. But I was more referring to when you were a foal.” “When I was a foal?” Twilight stared at Celestia. “Why would I feel like you abandoned me as a foal? I mean, you looked out for me, you took me under your wing as your student… I don’t know how anypony could expect anything more from you. It’s not like you were my mom.” Celestia blinked. “Not that you weren’t special! You were always there for me! That’s why, you know, I mean, I sent you this… ugh. This is why I wrote so many letters.” Celestia chuckled softly as she Twilight with one great white wing. “I think I understand.” She slid a hoof under Twilight’s chin, lifting her head to look her in the eye. “You are very special to me as well, Twilight Sparkle. You always have been. I am honored that you thought of me today.” “You’re welcome, Princess.” Celestia smiled. “You know, you don’t have to call me that in private.” Twilight rubbed at her mane with her hoof. “It’s kind of reflex at this point.” “I know it is.” Celestia kept smiling, holding Twilight’s gaze. “You know, you have your mother’s eyes.” Twilight frowned slightly. “You know, you’ve said that before, but I’ve never been able to see it myself. Mom has blue eyes.” Celestia smirked. “Well, of course. She had to replace them.” “Har, har.” Twilight rolled her eyes, giving the larger pony a light shove with her hoof before she caught a glimmer of color on Celestia’s chest. “Wait a second. Are you wearing that pendant I gave you?” “Indeed.” Celestia lifted a hoof, letting the two cutie marks, one in amethyst, one in amber, shine against the white fur of her lower leg. “It was a very thoughtful gift. Your mark, together with mine, always close to my heart.” “So you like it?” Twilight asked cautiously. “I love it.” Celestia closed her eyes and nodded. “I was worried it was kind of sappy. But Rarity thought it was sweet when I mentioned it. I mean, I now that’s normally something you get for your, you know, [i]mom[/i], but—” “It’s lovely.” Celestia opened her eyes, her head quickly swiveling towards the door. “Hm. I think I smell pancakes.” Twilight sniffed. “Heh. You’re right. You want to join us? Knowing Spike, I’m sure he made enough for three ponies.” “I would love to.” Celestia lifted a hoof to her face before she began walking towards the door, her horn beginning to glow just as Spike pushed it open. The young dragon stumbled, one claw clinging to the door handle for support. “Heh. Guess I should have knocked first.” He looked up at Celestia. “You staying for pancakes?” Celestia nodded. “If it wouldn’t be any trouble. I would hate to interrupt.” “Nah. Twilight always says she wants to spend more time with you.” He took a step back, giving a slight bow as Celestia passed. “Thanks for making dinner, Spike,” Twilight said as she moved to follow, only to be stopped by an extended hand. “Why was Princess Celestia crying?” he whispered. “Huh?” Twilight glanced towards the Princess’s retreating tail. “She wasn’t crying.” Spike stared down the hall after Celestia. “She looked like she was.” Twilight shrugged. “Maybe her mane got in her eyes. I’ve always wondered how she keep it from doing that. Maybe I should ask.”