Celestia reached out from her balcony with her divine magic, stirring the cosmos and bringing the dawn forth for the... millionth time? Billionth? Trillionth? In truth she had lost count long ago. Most ponies, she knew, thought of her immortality as a curse or at best a mixed blessing.
They were wrong. Living forever was amazing.
She didn’t have the heart to tell them that all the tragic plays and epic works of literature they had written about her (or thinly-veiled copies of her) were starting from a flawed premise. That she wasn’t perpetually on the edge of buckling under a thousand lifetimes of accumulated stress or contemplating boredom-induced suicide.
At a social gathering a few centuries ago, a pony with a knack for mathematics had been seated next to her. He was nervous, as her subjects often were in her presence, and imbibed a somewhat imprudent amount of wine to settle his nerves. Halfway through his third glass he’d turned to her and very earnestly explained how every time a deck of cards was randomly shuffled it was overwhelmingly likely that the configuration it ended up in had never existed at any time throughout history. There were more ways to shuffle a deck of cards than there were stars in Luna’s sky.
That had stuck with her. Infinite possibilities in just fifty two little slips of paper. And she had an entire kingdom. How could she ever get bored with that?
Did she sometimes resent the responsibilities of being the Princess of Equestria? Sure, but that wasn’t an immortal thing. Mortals felt the stress of their jobs all the time, even jobs they loved. Plus being immortal meant that she could, on the spur of the moment, hand the crown off to her equally-qualified sister and spend the odd decade or so sailing the Maribbean as ‘Celestia, Queen of the Pirates’ without regrets. Hypothetically. On a completely unrelated note, she reminded herself to renew the Official State Secret classification on the name of the island where a sizable portion of the Equestrian treasury was still buried.
There had been pain and hard times. Countless generations of ponies she’d seen be born, grow up, age and die. She felt the sting of that loss, but only because of how sharply it contrasted with the lifetimes full of incredible joy she’d been privileged to share with them. There was ample love in her heart for every new soul that touched hers, and even after all this time her little ponies were still finding new ways to surprise her. As for the ones that had passed on, well, as long as she remembered them how could she say they were really gone? As long as she remembered them, she could share her greatest blessing with them. That of eternal life.