Epilogue
“More tea, Your Highness?”
“No, no, that’s quite alright, Mister Bell,” said Celestia. “I’m just about finished for today.”
Putting down her paintbrush, she wiped sweat off her brow. She glanced back at her assistant, smiling softly. “Haven’t you had your rest for today yet? Come now. It’s getting late.”
Serving Bell nodded hurriedly. It’d only been a month or so, but the colt had grown accustomed to his new station in Canterlot Palace.
The door to her study swung open. Greyhoof strode in, taking his steps carefully.
Celestia looked at him. “Greyhoof! So nice of you to join me.” She glanced at Bell. “Go on, Bell. Get your rest, we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
A hasty ‘thank you’ and deep bow later, Celestia found herself alone with her trusted majordomo. His aged eyes looked warm as ever when he greeted her, with that wizened old voice of his. “That boy’s looking healthier every day. Good evening, Your Highness. I see you’ve been busy.”
Celestia laughed, softly, so softly. “I have, yes…” she said, moving to the side of the painting. “What do you think?”
The watercolour was her largest piece yet, standing nearly as tall as she. And for good reason, too, for the likeness of her family had been difficult to capture. She saw herself standing there at the centre, smiling primly. By her side was Luna, cooler in expression yet calm as the night she heralded. Then there was Radiant Hope, young and sprightly. Lastly, by Radiant’s side, a space upon a blank canvas not fully rendered, was the unfinished silhouette of Princess Amore.
“Oh, it looks quite magnificent, Your Highness,” said Greyhoof, nodding in approval, as he seated himself on the nearest chair. “I must say, fine progress so far. You’ve captured Miss Radiant’s likeness very well.”
Celestia beamed, tapping the canvas. “You flatter me. Oh, and there’s plenty more to come. I’ve still got Equinox and Tranquility, also Orion, to follow. Grandfather and Starswirl and Lady Mistmane too… goodness, so much to do…”
She shook her head, taking the seat opposite Greyhoof. “Any word from Nocturne?”
“He graciously accepts the post,” said Greyhoof, with a knowing look. “The Northern Legion, I’d imagine, would be happy as well. As for Ironhoof… I can’t claim the same, now, can I?”
“Come now,” said Celestia, feeling a touch of mischief, “surely retirement is much appreciated by the good captain?”
“Most amusing, Highness,” Greyhoof deadpanned. Though his expression remained as even as it usually did, Celestia could see the hints of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She chuckled, setting aside her brush.
“I do try, my friend. Sadly it'll take more than that to sort it all out, all the Ironhoofs our eyes have missed,” Celestia said, sighing. “But that aside, have you given the proposal a lookover?”
“I have, yes,” said Greyhoof, setting down the bound scroll. “Very solid. Velvet has given her approval as well, and so has Feelgood. But Quill is a stubborn fellow as always, I’d imagine. I expect we’d have to coax his word out of him.”
“Oh, I know. But he ought to know it isn’t about what they deserve, it’s about what they need,” Celestia said, tapping the scroll. “I have time, and he does not. Velvet’s say is stronger than his in this matter, no matter how much he’d grumble about it.”
“Then retirement’s out of the question?” Greyhoof asked. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Celestia smirked in turn.
“Of course,” she said. “If I cannot read to the children myself, then I shall teach them how…”
Her eyes fell upon Radiant’s, frozen in the water-colour. She could hear her voice echoing in the Palace hallways, asking her endlessly about the newest spells or the oldest books. A curiosity matched only by her talent. A talent cut all too short, taken by Sombra’s wrath, the very friend she tried so hard to help with all the kindness of her heart.
Celestia wondered how Flake fared these days. How she would fare in a classroom, how many stories she’d be excited to tell herself.
How many children awaited their school gates to be open, for the first time in their lives...
“I do not know how long it shall take,” Celestia remarked wistfully. “Ten, a hundred… nay, a thousand years. But I will be there, every step of the way.”
“You know I wish you all the best, ma’am, and I trust that you’ll do just fine,” Greyhoof reassured, offering her a kind smile. “My only regret is that I won't be there to accompany you.”
“You’ve done so much for my sister and I,” Celestia said, reaching to pat his shoulder. “When the time comes, you’ll have earned that rest.”
Greyhoof let out a coarse, weary laugh. “Only after you have as well, Your Highness.”
Celestia said nothing to that. The Elements had remained just as inert as it was that very night, no matter how much she tried to bring them out of dormancy with every spell she knew.
Still, she kept mum. She cleared her throat, nudging the scroll.
“Tomorrow’s meeting, then, for the proposal,” said Celestia. “Ten o’clock, sharp. You need your rest, Greyhoof.”
“I shall be there,” said Greyhoof, nodding primly. “Take care.”
“I will,” said Celestia. Then her glance fell onto the saddlebags he carried, and she recalled the book she gave to him shortly after her return, alongside the bags he lent her. “Oh, Greyhoof? How does your granddaughter find The Rainbow Crow?”
Greyhoof’s face lit up, even as he kept his tone even and a touch playful. “Marvellous, of course. She wants to know the author better. Personally, between you and me, Your Highness, I do wonder if she’s written more.”
Celestia’s smile was calm and serene. “Perhaps she has. Goodnight, Greyhoof.”
“Goodnight, Your Highness.”
The door swung shut. Quietly, Celestia blew the air from her lips, again wiping away the sweat off her brow. She returned to her seat, swivelling around to take in the sight of the great water-colour painting, and the mare she’d taken the greatest of care in drawing.
Soft. Elegant. But her smile was the greatest lie here. Luna had little reason to smile, not when she’d lost so much, and gained so little from all the time they’d stood together side by side.
Tearing her sorrowful gaze away from the painting, Celestia saw the ornate quill of office and ink-pot she’d set aside, and the parchment that accompanied it.
Until now, she hadn’t yet considered writing for a larger audience. The Rainbow Crow had been just that – a passion project, something she’d done to pass the time over long hours of work. But the children had laughed, cheered, and begged her for more.
And time was on her side, just this once, when she had countless lifetimes’ worth to tell.
Sparing her sister’s likeness one final glance, Celestia pressed her favourite quill against the parchment, and she began to write.
Once upon a time, flowed the words, in the magical land of Equestria…
* * * * *
“...The End.”
“Wow,” Luna said, her eyes wide, illuminated by the candlelight. She held onto her blanket tighter. “Did you really do all that?”
“Pff, well, of course! Why else would I be telling you?” Celestia replied, giggling. She flicked her mane aside, showing a few locks shorter than the rest of it, “See? You can ask Starswirl if you don’t believe me.” She gave Luna a sly glance. “Or you can go on your own and ask the crow yourself,” she teased, in a sing-song voice. “When you’re ooooldeeer~”
The freckles on Luna’s cheeks darkened adorably. Celestia tapped Luna’s nose, laughing happily as her sister tried and failed to grab onto her hoof.
“Now you’re just showing off,” Luna said, pouting. “But you are really good with stories, Tia… Maybe you should write instead.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Celestia replied, shrugging. “It’s nothing much. Just a little way to pass the time. You know I have more important stuff to do.”
“Nyeh, that wasn’t nothing,” Luna said, rolling her eyes. “I liked it!”
“Of course you do, Little Moon,” said Celestia, ruffling Luna’s mane despite her protests. “Now, goodnight, and don’t forget to practice your… uh, moon-raising. Sleep tight!”
She blew the candle, and hopped off the bed. A midnight snack would do just fine, no matter how much Starswirl chided her for emptying the pantry once every so often.
“Awww. Come on, Tia,” Luna whined. “You’ve been so busy with Starswirl everyday. Can’t you tell me one more story? Pleeease?”
Part of Celestia wanted to tell her then and there, that time was a luxury, that the crowns they were to wear in a few years’ time had no care for such petty frivolousness. They’d stand tall and proud, Princesses of All Equestria, and together they were to lead.
But that was Starswirl talking. And Luna was here, looking up to her with eyes filled with youthful wonder and awe and all the love a little filly could ever have.
The candle lit up once more. Celestia sat back down on the bed. Luna’s smile grew wider, and she let out a cheerful giggle.
“Alright Luna,” said Celestia, with a smile as gentle and kind as she could muster, running a forehoof through her little sister’s mane. “One more story.”
