It was midnight, and Celestia was alone in her study. The night was still and calm outside of her open window, and she sat idly listening to the thumping wheels of distant chariots on the dirt road far below, the playful wind crawling up the mountain, and the gentle sound of water falling towards the lake far below. A peaceful night, she thought; a perfect ambience for a few fleeting hours of serenity.
Celestia perked an ear. No, there was another sound, too. Her clacking knitting needles grew still as she listened closer.
An impatient, frantic shuffling of hooves under plush blankets. A young, squeaky voice let out an irritated sigh, followed by more rustling from within her newest young pupil's bedroom.
Gingerly, Celestia set her wool and needles aside and rose from her cushion in front of the fireplace, burning not for warmth but simply because it felt like the right thing to do with the stars and moon both shining brightly from the study's tall window. Lifting a small torch from a nearby sconce, Celestia crept on unarmoured hooves towards Twilight's door, open just a sliver.
More rustling, and another defeated sigh. Celestia smiled pensively and hesitated a moment. She already carried a prediction for what she would find and what would happen—a more violent rustling as Twilight rushed to extinguish a nearby candle and conceal a heavy-looking book under her covers, and then her exaggerated snoring as she did her best to keep her eyes closed to feign sleep.
Celestia's answer would be gentle but firm. She appreciated her student's enthusiasm, but for heavens sake, she needed her sleep! And Twilight would respond in a nervous flurry of nodding affirmations. Celestia would leave her with promises for a good night, and give her student a warm nuzzle, assuring her that if Twilight needed her, she would always be in the next room.
This time, however, there was no candle to be swiftly extinguished as Celestia pushed open the door, although Twilight's exaggerated snoring came nonetheless.
Smiling warmly at the lump of twisted blankets that was her student, Celestia placed her candle on a nearby nightstand and cautiously lifted a blanket to reveal Twilight with her eyes squeezed shut.
"My dear student," Celestia said softly. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"
Twilight shuffled. Her eyes opened, glimmering with defeat as her ruse was discovered.
She nodded sullenly.
"Would you like me to read you a story?" Celestia offered. It was a rare occasion when a magic lesson or story did not succeed in driving back Twilight's distress. The little filly was always eager to learn, and Celestia was always happy to teach.
To Celestia's surprise, however, Twilight shook her head.
Celestia frowned. Twilight's silence, and her watering eyes, told her without subtlety that there was a little more at play than simple insomnia.
"How about we get you out of these heavy blankets, hm?" Celestia suggested, parting them the rest of the way with a hoof. "Perhaps you would like to join me in my study? I find a change of scenery sometimes helps me with my restlessness."
"Okay," Twilight squeaked, nodding feverishly.
Celestia outstretched a wing and let Twilight hold onto the appendage as she led the way back into her study, extinguishing the candle with a tiny flare of her magic.
The two sat before the crackling fire, unspeaking for a long while. Twilight had laid her head against the downy feathers of Celestia's wing, peering curiously at the metal needles once more clicking together in Celestia's magic.
"What are those?" she posed, cocking her head.
"Hm?" Celestia blinked, and then looked to her magic aura and chuckled. "Ah, knitting needles! Yes, I know, I'm a dreadfully drab old mare."
Twilight giggled. "I think its neat. What're you making?"
"A scarf. For you," Celestia replied breezily, giving Twilight's nose a playful poke. "I can't have my student catching a cold again, now can I?"
Twilight giggled again.
Yet when they fell silent once more, and her head had turned to the dancing flames, the same melancholic longing had flooded into the young filly's gaze.
"Is something troubling you, Twilight?"
"I... no..."
Celestia frowned pensively. She used her wing to lift the filly's head up gently and meet her eyes.
"If you are worried about me being upset with you for whatever reason, I promise you have no reason to be. Seeing you look sad is more upsetting to me than anything you could have done."
"Promise you won't be mad?"
Celestia assured her she wouldn't be.
Twilight let out a long, melodramatic sigh and looked to her hooves in shame.
"I miss home..." she whispered. "I miss mom and dad and Shining Armor."
"Ah," Celestia nodded. "You are homesick. That is nothing to be ashamed of."
"Homesick?" Twilight repeated, looking a little frightened.
Celestia chuckled, remembering having to nearly force-feed the little filly cough syrup during the earlier winter months.
"It is not a literal sickness," she explained. "It simply means you miss home so much that it starts to make you feel very sad."
"Oh," Twilight said flatly. "But... but I like it here, too. I don't know why I miss home so much, because I like staying here with you..."
"I understand. Truly. Happiness and luxury don't make a home, after all. And I cannot ever hope to replace your home."
Twilight was silent, shuffling further into Celestia's wing.
She had not been so foolish as to disregard the possibility that, given time, Twilight's enthusiasm and excitement at being her protege would taper off to make way for nervousness and uncertainty.
"Do you wish to go home, Twilight?" Celestia asked softly. "I have no objections to postponing your tutelage if you feel you are not ready."
The poor filly peered up at Celestia, evidently very conflicted. “I… I dunno. I want...”
Her head sunk again as she stuttered into silence without giving Celestia a proper answer.
Twilight Sparkle loved to learn. She loved her books and her studies and her mentor, and Celestia knew that the latter was genuine—not some mask the filly wore to impress her. And she hoped to the stars above Twilight knew that the love was mutual.
Still, she was not a mother and she would not to try to be.
Smiling warmly, Celestia retook her knitting needles. She cast off quickly, and then wrapped the completed scarf around Twilight's neck.
The filly blinked in surprise and Celestia chuckled.
“Why don't we go for a walk, Twilight?”
“But it's past my bed time!” she exclaimed.
“We can cancel our morning lessons,” Celestia waved a hoof dismissively. “I have something to show you that might help you feel a little closer to home.”
Together they traveled through the dimly lit corridors of the deserted castle, the maids and guards who had lined the halls now mostly gone in the late midnight hour. The occasional guard who was present turned to watch the smiling alicorn and curious little filly trotting behind her, the long scarf dragging on the ground behind her like a preying snake.
They emerged into a well-kept garden built on a lengthy balcony. The towers of Canterlot stabbed into the night sky behind them, and the majestic plains of Equestria lay ahead. It had become her and Twilight's favourite place for their lessons in the day—enclosed and isolated, yet with the whole of Equestria on display, and yet only brilliantly coloured birds perched on vines as their audience. Now, though, even the wildlife had retired for the night.
Together they stood below the stars and moon, their breath rising into the late-winter air. Eventually, Celestia spoke.
“Look up, my faithful student. What do you see?”
“Um… the stars?”
“Mmhm. And what else?”
“The Sky?”
“Yes, certainly, that too. And?”
“The Moon?”
“Yes,” Celestia smiled. “Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine… imagine your mother. Or your father or brother, if you like. Imagine being with them.”
A distant sadness joined Twilight's curious expression as she obeyed, closing her eyes to the heavens above.
“Now imagine looking at the sky with them. Look at the moon. And then open your eyes again.”
Gradually, her eyes fluttered to life, focusing back to the inky tapestry in front of her.
“Twilight, no matter where you are, no matter how far you are from your loved ones, when you look up at night it is the same sky. The same silver moon. As you grow up, you will meet new ponies and others may go away. Times will change… perhaps even the constellations above will change. But no matter what happens, every time you look up at the moon, you will do so together.”
For several moments, Twilight simply stared, eyes wide with wonder.
“Twilight, my dear,” Celestia cooed gently, resting a wing on her back. “If you ever feel yourself missing somepony you love, remember that no matter how wide a world we live in and how old you get, we will always look to the same moon above. We may move away, but we always have an anchor.”
“What about you?” Twilight's voice was a weak and wavering whisper. When she had entered Celestia's tutelage, the filly was creeping upon that terrible age when mortality first begins to make sense; even if she spent the majority of her time with Equestria's one exception.
The princess smiled—a distant, introspective smile. The one that Twilight had nicknamed Celestia's 'memory smile.'
“I lost my anchor once,” Celestia admitted eventually. Her eyes had locked on the moon above, unblinking and melancholic. “For awhile I felt alone, like you do."
"Homesick?"
"Of sorts," Celestia nodded. "And then I realized that after... what happened, my anchor was really still there. Still beautiful... the most beautiful thing in the sky, still keeping me and my ponies safe through the dark. And it has always made me feel happy knowing I would always have the moon to look to, no matter how much the world changed.”
“I never thought of that before," Twilight breathed. "I… feel a lot better. I still miss mom and dad, but... I don't think I'm ready to go home.”
Celestia gently brought Twilight closer with her wing. “I am glad to hear that, my dear—” Celestia began, but Twilight accidentally interjected with a mighty yawn. In an instant the filly had a guilty look, but Celestia diffused it with a playful chuckle. “Oh my. I hardly think you can use your tried and true 'but I'm not tired, Princess!' line now, hm?”
Twilight giggled. “Yeah...”
“Do you think you will be able to get back to sleep?”
“I… I think so,” Twilight nodded, and yawned again. “Thank you, Princess Celestia.”
“You are most certainly welcome, my faithful student,” Celestia gave the little unicorn filly a warm nuzzle. “I will be right behind you. Have a good sleep, Twilight.”
With a mixture of nods and yawns, Twilight turned and made her way back into the castle, traveling at a groggy trot back to her bed and to a good night's sleep.
Celestia stood, staring at the moon for several more seconds after Twilight had left. She turned back towards the castle, looked back at the moon, and then followed Twilight to her study.
Author's Note
Anyone else think FimFic should just have a "cute" tag? I seriously wasn't sure what to tag this.
Anyways, I don't normally do feel-good fluff, but this idea popped into my head and I liked it.
Also I really just wanted to throw away my creative pride and write a sweet little Twilight and Celestia fic without any gimmicks or twists. Something to balance out the really sombre stuff I usually do.
