The best gifts of all are the ones left unseen,
Not decked out and flecked out with red and with green,
But sometimes a thoughtful gift has more in store
For somepony other than whom it was for.
“So, you’re probably wondering why the Great and Powerful—er, Warm and Helpful Trixie has called you here today.” Trixie added a third mug of empathy cocoa to the rest in a row and stirred to and fro to help melt the marshmallow. And a bonus that it happened to be close to Hearth’s Warming!
Luster Dawn fidgeted fitfully and flinched a hoof toward her saddlebag. “The note you left me said—”
“It’s a bit, kid. Just roll with it.”
Her young charge only gaped back, not the kind with sparkling eyes and the wondrous anticipation of what their Hearth’s Warming gift might be. No, more of a wide-eyed “I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m certain it’s stupid.”
“Moving on…” Trixie let out a Great and Powerful Sigh and folded her hooves how her mother used to when faced with the mastery of illusion that she mistakenly labeled “foolish shenanigans.” Another little bump of a mug finally prompted Luster to take one in her magic. A kindergartner already able to float a full mug carefully enough so that none sloshed and splashed sloppily around? An interesting instance, indeed.
She straightened her “Guidance Counselor Trixie” sign and cleared her throat. “Trixie is trying to see things through your eyes.”
At least Luster took a taste of her cocoa, a diminutive dollop of foamy froth dotted on her upper lip. “Through my eyes? I don’t understand. I thought this was about…”
“Oh, this is about many things. Many, many things,” Trixie said with a flashy flourish of her fetlock. “Trixie is even practicing her inner poetic voice.” A garrulous grin would surely sell it, but Luster only paused with her mouth on the brink of her beverage once more. There it remained until Trixie cleared her throat again. “Moving on…”
Trixie made a show—well, to be fair, she always made a show—of opening the filly’s file folder on her desk and doing a shift-shuffle through the sheaf of sheets. “Your teachers have said you’re—” she twisty-twirled a hoof in the air “—not doing so well in your classes.”
Luster stopped mid-sip and woefully wilted.
“Fear not! Trixie is here to guide you through this.” A warm grin seemed to prompt her crestfallen charge into straightening up a teeny tiny tad, and good thing, as she still had two more mugs of cocoa to go! “It’s mostly the friendship classes. Sunburst says you’ve aced every piece of magic he’s cared to throw at you in his class, and all the standard things, the math, history…” Trixie’s hoof did another pirouette in the air, much of its own volition anymore, then she leaned in and cocked a canted eyebrow. “You know, the boring stuff,” she added in a stage whisper, “is all fine, too.”
One mug down!
“Even music class, as Miss Octavia reports.” The file folder blew breezily shut again, and a sneer strained at its leash. “Celestia forbid anypony in this whole country not be able to sing,” she muttered. “Trixie would rather not rely on that to solve her problems.”
A quick glance revealed Luster looking lost. “Trixie apologizes. Just don’t assume breaking out into song will bring your friendship grades up. Especially not during Miss Rarity’s class, when she’s asked you not to.” A quick sigh. “Repeatedly.”
Trixie made to straighten her papers, except she’d already closed the folder. “So…” Off script again! “With Hearth’s Warming coming up, Trixie has been trying to get into the spirit of the season. Fun and frivolity, gifts and games, food and friends. Even inside her head,” she said, pointing a hoof at her noggin. “Such rhythm and rhyme, all perfect in time—ubiquitous song, nay, they’ve got it all wrong! The poet in here makes it perfectly clear that the feeling alone carries all of the tone.”
Halfway through the second mug now, and Luster had begun to smile. “That was pretty good!”
“Miss Zecora’s herbalist class meets next door. It helps.”
Trixie closed her eyes for a moment. Get her head nicely centered, her ducks in a row, dispensing advice to her student just so.
Now Luster cleared her throat. “See things through my eyes? I don’t understand.”
One last gentle huff out, and Trixie opened her eyes. “Trixie is trying to put herself in your place, for two reasons. It has been a long time since Trixie attended school, so visualizing what’s holding you back, from your perspective, would work far better. But Trixie has never attended a school like this.”
With her mug settled into her lap, Luster shrank a bit again. “You actually think I can improve in my friendship classes? I mean… if you knew that much about friendship, wouldn’t you be one of the teachers?”
“Trixie is very good friends with Headmare Starlight,” Trixie said with clenched jaw. “But yes, Trixie has a road map in mind.”
“You’re… going to tutor me?” The mug tipped absentmindedly and threatened to spill.
Oh, but wouldn’t that be nice? Trixie crinkle-curled the corners of her mouth a tad. “Not as such. The school does have the Cutie Mark Crusaders to assist in that regard. Trixie is sure you would have heard that before. Speaking of which, why haven’t you gone to them?”
Luster dreary-drooped her eyes toward the remnants of her cocoa. “They’re busy enough already. I didn’t want to bother them.”
“And your classmates?”
“Same…”
“Didn’t it occur to you that that’s part of the problem? A true friend would never leave another behind, and allowing yourself to become so isolated from everyone doesn’t really mesh with the school’s message of friendship.”
Luster floated her cup back to the desk and took the third mug, now bereft of steam. “See, you don’t get it! I do just fine alone, and cramming ponies together who don’t want to be together isn’t going to make anything better.”
“Trixie agrees—” Luster looked up sharply “—but it’s not that simple. Believe it or not, Trixie herself does not have a large circle of friends.” She waited a moment for a gasp of astonishment, a gape of disbelief, a gawk of logical fallacy. But Luster merely watched as if observing a clock’s second hand weaving its leisurely arc. “See, you don’t have to have a large group of friends. But surely you have one or two who are important to you?”
“And that’s good enough?”
A hearty guffaw galloped out with gusto. “Of course!”
“Then why do the teachers all make it sound like a big group is what matters?”
Trixie corralled her own cup over, containing only water, but she needed something to wet her throat. “Treating all with respect is just a good idea, and while you wouldn’t necessarily call all those ponies friends, it’s still applying the lessons of friendship. And it’s perfectly fine if the ones you actually consider close and dear friends only number a few.”
“You’re actually pretty good at this…”
“Trixie is good at whatever she wishes to be,” she replied with her eyes closed, chin up, and a flit-flourish of her cape.
But Luster’s brow only furrowed. “If it’s alright to have only a few close friends… and I’m not doin’ anything wrong there… why are my grades low?”
“Because you tend to be dismissive of others. Trixie knows, it can be a delicate balancing act. Too friendly, and more ponies start hanging around with you than you’re comfortable with. Not friendly enough, and they get the wrong impression of you.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“You will, in a moment. Trixie has a plan.” When fillies said that, adults normally cringed. And yet Luster cringed a smidgen.
“Wait, you said you were trying to see through my eyes in two ways. What’s the other?” This filly was a bit too smart.
After a moment of silent contemplation, Trixie dispensed herself some water from the hot pot and added a packet of cocoa mix. “Trixie has observed the way you smile at the Hearth’s Warming decorations around the school and hum carols while walking down the hallways. You rather seem to enjoy the season.”
“Oh, yes!” Luster immediately chimed in. “I love Hearth’s Warming!”
With a few seconds’ respite for another breath and a taste of her beverage, Trixie continued. “Trixie does not remember Hearth’s Warming so well. Her father was often traveling to put on shows that time of year, and her mother didn’t care for the tradition. So Trixie grew up not liking it much, and she was hoping… to see it through your eyes.”
Finally taking a more at-ease posture, Luster levitated her third mug. “Really? It shouldn’t be that hard to understand. It’s just being happy about family and presents and good food and…” She waved a hoof around, but no further explanation brought more information to end Trixie’s consternation.
“Trixie understands that, from an academic standpoint. It can be hard to adopt the attitude, though.” Then she quickly peered at Luster. “Wait, presents? You’re supposed to wait until Hearth’s Warming to open those, aren’t you? Trixie saw you just yesterday carrying around an opened gift box.”
“Oh, that?” Luster said with a flick of the pastern. “That wasn’t a Hearth’s Warming present. That was for my ‘gotcha’ day.”
“Your what now?” Trixie said, spoon still stirring.
Luster scrunched her nose up a little and eyed the clouds outside the window as if enjoying a secret. But then she spoke. “The day my adoption became official.”
So close to Hearth’s Warming, too! “Then this season must be extra-special to you. Although you wouldn’t remember the actual day.”
Luster frowned. “How would you know that?”
All Trixie could do was shrug. “Trixie assumes. Infants get adopted rather quickly, and if you were any older, it probably wouldn’t have been the same mother who enrolled you in our preschool program.”
Luster hadn’t lost her languid look, softly staring skyward, so Trixie spoke gently. “Tell me about Hearth’s Warming at home.”
“Oh, right,” Luster said, snapping to attention. “You needed some help.”
“Well, Trixie has been working some fun little rhymes and alliterations into her thoughts all day. It is kind of getting her into the holiday spirit.” Her cocoa had cooled enough to take a generous swallow, so she obliged, before adding a second packet of mix. Today required extra chocolatiness.
“Good!” Luster then wrinkled up her forehead like Starlight did when carefully repotting Phyllis. “Well… do you know the feeling of a big fancy dinner, and you’ve been waiting for it all day, and you can smell the last bit of it coming out of the oven, and you skipped lunch to make sure you had enough room, and you can practically taste it?”
Trixie snout-snuffed a sigh and rested her head against a hoof. “No, Trixie’s mother never…” But a tiny tingle tickled the back of her brain. “Yes, when we had the faculty party, and Pinkie spent all morning cooking for it. She even had her Laughter class help out. The students’ cupcakes were shaped funny, but they tasted good.”
Luster licked her lips. “Yeah, we got some of them, too. Then—” she squinted “—how about the feeling when you invite someone over because they were going to have to eat their Hearth’s Warming feast all alone?”
“No—” And the same answer popped up again! “Yes, Sunburst was expecting to take off early and go home for vacation as a surprise, but he found out his mother wouldn’t be there. Fluttershy made sure there was room for him at the lunch, even though we hadn’t planned for that many. Her Kindness class whipped up an extra place setting and found another table to add.”
“How about the feeling when you tell somepony they make Hearth’s Warming special to you?”
Too smart indeed! “Yes, Trixie has always prided herself on her independence, but when she and her best friend Starlight took their places at the table, Trixie told her that it meant a lot not to feel alone for once on Hearth’s Warming. Applejack’s Honesty class had been saying something similar in the hallway that morning, and it made Trixie think.”
“And the feeling when you give up the chance to go to a big, fancy dinner that might even have better food because you’d rather spend time with your family?”
For some reason, Trixie suddenly felt weak. “Yes, Spoiled Rich offered to let Trixie attend their legendary bash if she performed some stage magic there. She even asked if our own captain of the Wonderbolts would put in some face time, right in the middle of Loyalty class. Trixie politely declined, and Rainbow Dash’s students did so on her behalf as well, though less politely.”
“The feeling of waiting for somepony to see a gift you put a lot of thought into?”
“Trixie has already spoken to Miss Rarity today, and yes, Trixie believes she has that one well in hoof already. But let Trixie ask… if you’re giving out that much good advice, why are you not doing better in your friendship classes?”
Luster replied with a groan, “Family and friends are different. I don’t relate to other ponies so well.”
Trixie allowed a triumphant grin to spread its wings over her face. “You will. Trixie does have a gift in mind. Well, it’s unfair to call it a gift, because that might imply it’s unearned.”
“Oh yeah! You said you had a plan! Does this mean you are going to tutor me?”
“Not as such,” Trixie said, the projection in her voice gone. “But between the value Trixie thinks would result from giving you individual instruction in friendship and the superlative magical talent you’ve shown…”
Trixie swallowed, hard, before drawing the bottom sheet of paper back out of her folder and unfurling it to reveal a neatly printed form with more than a dozen signatures on it. “The faculty have recommended that Princess Twilight Sparkle take you on as her personal student.” Then she pointed out the bottom signature. “And she has agreed.”
Luster Dawn’s breath stuttered, and she grabbed the page with both hooves, scanning down it. Just as her grin threatened to erupt full-bore, her eyes dulled. “But you didn’t sign it.”
“Trixie is not a teacher here. Her signature is not important. But you shouldn’t take that as meaning Trixie doesn’t support this decision, as she stands fully behind it.”
“But still, why—?”
“It would be better if Trixie’s signature weren’t on there.” And just as quickly, the broad grin returned with reinforcements. “Now, go on and tell your… your mother.”
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Luster cried, and she galloped out the door with the full fantastical fleetness of a fortunate filly.
Five years old, almost six. Yes, back then, long after having leaned true austerity while toiling on a rock farm, then hitting a bold new low on her Great and Powerful Triumphant Return Tour and not making enough to support herself, much less anypony else. Plus she knew from experience how nopony would want a daffy showpony for a parent, even one of not so meager means now. The first, best gift she’d ever given.
“And Trixie loves you,” she said quietly. Then she finished her now-lukewarm but double-strength cocoa, watched out the window as Luster Dawn tore off past the students playing in the snow, and hummed a carol to herself. She couldn’t be more proud, and thanks to this wonderful world, she could again entrust Luster Dawn to another worthy caretaker. One more incomparable gift, this time for Twilight.
Trixie smiled. So this was what a proper Hearth’s Warming felt like.
Author's Note
DrakeyC requested a story about Luster Dawn and Trixie, and asked that Luster not be the child of Sunburst and Starlight Glimmer, along with a mini-rant about why it's dumb, which I found a bit amusing. I don't care one way or the other about that piece of fanon, so no problem!
And I grabbed the gimmick of doing Trixie's formal name in small caps from one of Super Trampoline's recent blogs. It was a great idea!
