Spike was one-year-old.
And, as expected of one year olds, Spike did not understand much of the world around him. Nobody could blame him for that, really. It was pretty normal for babies to not understand things - that's what parents were for, after all.
But as such, concepts like winter or Hearths' Warming (or flammable, for that matter) escaped the little dragon currently sitting in Celestia's bedroom.
Spike was familiar with the bedroom at this point. He spends most of his time here. Either there or in the Princess' office. He liked the bedroom slightly more (as much as a baby could like things) Though the office had his favorite napping spots (that being Celestia's stack of paperworks. Or her desk. Or her. Or her long suffering assistant). But despite that familiarity with it, he entirely missed the importance of the truly beautiful wreath on the door, or the almost gaudy tree in the corner, covered in shiny stuff he could not eat - he tried and they tasted horrible.
It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, and it looked like so in Celestia’s bedroom. (the Princess was always fond of the holiday, despite usually choosing to seclude herself in her office during it.)
But again, Spike did not understand the importance of that. What Spike wanted wasn't any of the presents he got waiting for him or even the crushed rubies left over from his dinner.
What he wanted was something soft to nap on.
And that's where the trouble started.
The cushions he was on did not seem to satisfy his very high standards of comfort (again, he was entirely happy to sleep on a stack of very important paperwork, indirectly causing a minor economic disaster as nopony was quite willing to wake the sleeping babe)
So he did the only reasonable thing.
Spike began exploring.
Spike was a curious baby - in both senses of the word. And sometimes, that curiosity made his life… dangerous. Nopony still knew how he managed to get out of his crib and onto the balcony that one time. Or how he managed to climb onto the roof of the astronomy tower. Or how he managed to get back down for that matter - the maids witnessing it simply swore to never mention it ever again. And definitely never in front of the Princess.
Sadly, it would seem that baby dragons shared the quality most babies have - and that's finding innovative ways of putting themself in danger and giving their caretakers heart attacks.
Right now though, Spike was exploring something which was not very likely to give him harm. Though many would probably find it somewhat worrying.
The baby dragon pawned at the first fun thing he found, gripping the sparkly, colorful thing that caught his interest.
Celestia giggled as the baby dragon stared at her mane for a second and then immediately buried his snout into it the second he reached it.
And then he began chewing on it.
The Princess smiled, gently using her wing to dislodge the baby dragon from her mane and to push him to her side.
“Went exploring, have you, little one?” she said happily, her voice just as warm as the crackle of the fireplace next to her.
Celestia was watching Spike on this day - she watched over him most days, actually. It was hard to find a babysitter that met the requirements for watching over the drake. (There was only one: be non-flammable)
Twilight came from time to time to say hello to Spike. Her pupil made her fondness for the dragon quite clear. But while she wanted to take care of Spike and her family was more than okay with the idea, there were some issues.
Firstly, Spike was a baby dragon. A foal - no matter how bright and mature for her age - should not be responsible for the wellbeing of a baby. Twilight's parents would help, of course, but both of them had jobs and worked. Changing their whole schedule and lifestyle around the little one might be something they were willing to do, but Celestia wasn't just about to thrust it at them without giving them ample time to prepare.
Second, Spike was a baby dragon. And Twilight lived in a house made of wood. For the foreseeable future, Spike still had trouble with setting everything around him on fire whenever he burbed or sneezed.
In short, the duty of caring fell on the shoulders of the alicorn princess, the only pony for whom dragon fire was relatively harmless.
Relatively being the keyword.
Just at that moment, Spike decided to snuggle closer to her. Not a problem for the princess.
Except the tip of her wing was just in the right position to tickle the little dragon on the snout- eliciting a sneeze.
A sneeze quickly followed by smoke and green flames, which enveloped the alicorn whole.
Celestia blinked several times, completely unharmed despite the inferno. Having a close connection to the sun had many benefits, one being immune to any amount of fire or heat.
Sadly, the same could not be said for her tiara, shoes, and pillows - who were immediately reduced to slag, puddle of gold and a pile of ash, respectively.
She sighed, using her magic to gather the ruined items and teleport them into the nearest scrap heap.
That was the third set this week.
The dragon gave her a look - and Celestia was almost sure of it - of feign innocence.
Then he began to suckle at his own tail.
She shook her head. The dragon was too cute for his own good sometimes.
With another flash of her magic, she conjured up a new set of pillows and sat down by the fireplace.
An idea came to her. The dragon was crawling with gusto already - as could be ascertained by the number of times the maids and the guards had to search the whole castle for the dragon when he mysteriously vanished from his crib - but he was yet to walk.
Celestia walked a few steps away from the dragon before sitting back down again, motioning towards the empty space next to her.
“Here Spike, come to-”
She stopped herself. What was she about to say?
Was she about to say “come to mamma”?
Celestia grimaced, overcome with guilt.
She couldn't. Twilight - both the filly and the filly’s mother - already claimed the baby dragon. And with how busy she was, there was simply not enough time for her to spend with the little one. Not to mention that she didn't deserve a family again. Not after Luna. Not after Sunset. Ponies like her did not get to simply have more chances. She was a failure, that was as clear as her day. And even if it miraculously worked this time? Thousandth year her banishment approached and-
Celestia stopped and she shook her head. She would not think about that. Not today. Today was a happy day.
But despite all of her careful reasoning, there was still the nagging voice telling her it was her Spike was spending his first hearth's warming. And that would be something nopony could steal from her. Something she would forever have over Spike’s adoptive family.
And with that, came more guilt.
And then Spike got up.
Celestia watched in amazement as the baby dragon took a shaking step forward, his claws up, reaching for her.
His first steps.
Steps only she was there to witness.
He stumbled and almost fell. Celestia panicked seeing him lose balance, lighting her horn, ready to hold the dragon up before he could fall and hurt himself, entirely forgetting about the fact that Spike was covered in dragon scales and his innate magic made him much hardier than the average baby.
But Spike didn't fall. He retained his balance.
“Mamma!”
Celestia froze.
She had to hear wrong. Spike couldn't have said that. Yes. Finally, after a thousand years, she was going senile. It had to happen at some point. Of course, that was it. A nice explanation that didn't leave her in an even more terrible predicament than before…
“Mamma!”
There was no denying it. Spike was hugging her and calling her mom.
Celestia wanted to cry.
She should not - could not - accept that. The dragon would have a family. A very loving, good family. She would make sure of it. He wouldn't need - or want - a distant mare, worshiped by fools and put on a pedestal by ponies who simply didn't understand. He wouldn't need somepony who was only capable of hurting those dear to her, of driving them away like Sunset or Luna or so many others she failed.
He would need a mother, and she couldn't be that.
She looked at the fireplace, the playful cracking fire. She looked outside at the moon outside of her frost covered window and the terrible reminder on it and on the snow covered roofs of Upper Canterlot. .
And she looked at the dragon, at his big, hopeful eyes, almost begging for her to return the embrace.
And finally, she did.
In time, he would forget her. It was the nature of things and of growing up. He would forget his first hearth's warning, just as he would forget towards whom his first steps were and just who he addressed with his first words.
But maybe - just maybe -a feeling would remain. A small and forgotten sense in the back of his mind. That at the time he needed his mother, somepony was there for him.
So she held him close until they both fell asleep next to each other. Two souls who found each other.
And another first was added to the many firsts Spike had on the Hearth’s Warming Eve.
For the first time in his life, Spike felt like he had a family.
And Celestia, for the first time in a long time, felt the same.
Author's Note
A late Chrismass present - a yet another adage to the genre of “Somepony Calls Celestia Mom And She Freaks Out”. I dunno why, but I just find that kind of story compelling. And more importantly - that there aren't enough of them.
You know, that's probably the greatest thing about writing. When you run out of the kind of stories you like to read, you can just…write more of them yourself.
Anyway, merry christmas and happy new year.
