And so your sun is raised to another glorious morning. You can see Luna off in her tower. Her mane is dull and she lets out a big yawn as morning begins streaming throughout Equestria. Seems she’s not quite up to speed just yet, or she had a busy night. You send her a friendly wave and she sends you a tired one in response; poor little sister, probably going straight to bed. You yourself are headed to bed as well.
But it’s not to your own, no.
That of…
”Anonymous, are you awake, sunshine?”
Anon lets out a low groan under the bundle of blankets he’s pulled himself into. Strange… usually he’s up in a flash when you call for him.
”Anonymous?”
You lift the blankets away with your magic.
“Goodness, Anon, you’re sick!”
There lies your son: face red with fever, nose runny, eyes crusty, letting out small coughs. He looks startled between coughs.
“Worry not, my little sunbeam, I’ll have one of the nurses come and help you today, and I’ll be around as much as I can.”
”N-no! I-I’m not sick, mommy! I can –“ he stops to force down a fit of coughing, “ – I can still come with you today!” he says in a pleading tone.
You raise an eyebrow at him. He looks away from your gaze and sniffles quietly.
”Is that so, Anon?”
”Y-ye-ye-ye –” he sneezes “– yeah, mom. I’m okay. I really am!”
His desperation to spend time with you fills your chest with warmth.
”Hmmm, well if that’s the case…. come along then, my little prince. We have a long day ahead of us,” you say as you start trotting towards the door.
You can hear Anon grunt as he makes his way off the bed. And his feet make soft irregular sounds on the marble floor.
You turn around and look at the sorry sight. Anon is shakily trying to make his way over to you. He’s ignoring the snot running down his nose, probably hoping it somehow makes you unable to notice it.
“My my. You sure seem to be quite wobbly this morning. Are you sure that you’re okay, Anonymous?”
He looks up at you fearfully, his ruse having been exposed.
“Uhm… yeah! I’m okay, mommy. Please let me come with you!”
You can’t help but smile at your son’s determination. He’s hoisted up and onto your back, a napkin “bumps” into his face as you maneuver him about.
“Sorry, sunshine. I guess my magic is a little funny today. You must have done quite a bit of running about yesterday to be this shaky this morning, huh?”
He takes the low-hanging fruit you offered him, “Y-yeah! I –“ he lets out a cough and stifles the rest “– I was.”
You shake your head and make your way down to the private dining room. Anon’s soft sniffles and mucousy breaths are the only sounds you hear throughout the barely awakened castle. His little hands hold on to your withers gently as you walk with your son. You love knowing that he relies on you, and trusts you to support him. In a far more literal sense than your citizens, it’s something you never knew you wanted.
For thousands of years you’ve lived, and in your eternal life you thought you had experienced every joy there was to have: flying with the dragons, wrestling with the minotaurs, caving with the diamond dogs, teaching your ponies of great potential. But it was this little green baby that found itself in your castle gardens four years ago that has shown you a joy far more enriching than mentorship.
Anon sneezes once again as you set him down in his chair; right next to you.
You choose to ignore it as you order orange juice and eggs for your son, and pancakes topped with caramel hay and apple juice for yourself.
“Right away, your highness,” the waiter bows and turns away to give the order to the chefs.
“Oh, just one moment.”
“Yes, Princess?”
You lean in close and whisper to the waiter to get you some cough medicine for your son.
”Ah, of course, Princess Celestia.” He bows again and trots off to the kitchens.
The food is brought out quickly, as always, and the both of you begin munching on the delicious breakfast; you faster than your son, who is eating much slower than usual.
“Anon, is the food alright?”
“Uhm.. yeah, it’s good. I guess I’m not hungry.”
“Is it because you’re too full of mucus? You know if your belly gets too full of mucus and not food I heard that you turn into a booger!”
Anon looks up at you scared.
“But you don’t have to worry about that, do you, my sunshine? You aren’t sick after all,” you say smugly.
His eyes widen and he looks back at his plate. He starts eating his breakfast much faster now. You feel a little guilty lying to him, but he’s begun this little fight with lies, so you may as well use them to your advantage.
The waiter from earlier brings you a bottle of medicine and a spoon.
”Thank you very much.”
”You’re very welcome, your highness.” He bows and trots off to the main dining hall, likely to deal with the “early risers.”
You pour out enough medicine for a young stallion. Your son is in age with a colt, but his physique seems to be closer to that of the minotaurs.
“Oh my!”
Anon finishes drinking the last of his juice and looks up at you.
“I’m supposed to take this magic potion, but it looks like I’ve poured too much! There’s no way I can finish this by myself with how full I am. If only I had somepony kind enough to help me finish it,” you say dramatically into the air.
Anon studies your face, and you maintain your dramatic composure. His face suddenly fills with worry.
“What happens if you can’t finish it, mom?”
“Oh, Anon! I forgot you were there my KIND little colt. I don’t know what could happen, I’ve never been too full for it before…” you say with a pout.
He remains hesitant. You bring the spoon to your mouth and tip it slightly against your pursed lips.
“Oh, that’s all that I can stomach. What ever will I do with the rest?”
”I can drink it, mommy!” Anon says with resolve.
“Oh, really? Will you do that for me, my little prince?”
“Yeah! … but only if you eat my brussel sprouts next time!”
Very clever…
“Oh, of course, Anonymous, my son, thank you so much!” you chirp as you place the spoon in his mouth.
Anon grimaces as he swallows, “Bleh! Do you really drink this stuff every day?”
You giggle internally, “No, sunshine, not every day.”
He starts to wipe his mouth with his arm, but reaches for a napkin at the last minute. The glare you were giving him lessens to a soft smile.
You lift Anon back onto your back and walk with him back towards his room. On the way you levitate a thermometer and a bit from the small clinic.
“What are those for, mommy?”
“They’re used for a very special ritual, Anon. I’m going to test you and see if you’re ready to become a true prince.” HIs grip tightens on your withers.
”A true prince?”
“Mmhmm, up until now you’ve been a prince in title only. Today I’m going to see if you’re ready to move on to being a real prince.”
You set him down in his room and ask him to change out of his pajamas. He changes into his casual attire of an orange shirt and white pants; Rarity did such a good job of designing his clothing.
“Alright, sunbeam, sit right there in your bed,” you motion with your head.
He does as you ask and sits facing you.
“Now this is very important sunshine, so listen carefully.”
He makes a stern face, his breathing sounding less labored and clearer of mucus.
“You need to hold this glass rod in your mouth, and balance this bit on top of it until I say so.”
He looks to the thermometer and bit nervously.
“W-what happens if I can’t do it?”
“Then that means we’ll have to push back your official prince title until next year,” you say nonchalantly.
“O-okay mommy… I think I’m ready.”
You give him a big smile.
“I know you are, sunshine. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t sure you could do it!”
You levitate the thermometer to his mouth and float the bit just above it.
“Okay and your test begins… now.”
The bit is lowered onto the thermometer and Anon’s face scrunches as he tries to maintain its balance. You watch the red line of the thermometer shoot up until it slows down just past the healthy range. The medicine must be taking effect already. His face is no longer red and his coughing seems to have settled down, too.
Once you’re certain that the thermometer is holding at a steady temperature you make the magic on the bit visible again and float it off of the thermometer. Anon cheers and the glass rod drops from his mouth. You barely catch it and Anon hugs your neck while you’re floating the two items onto a nearby desk.
“I did it, mommy! You were right!”
“Of course I was, sunbeam. I know my little boy better than anypony. I knew you could do it”
You nuzzle his face and he tightens his grip around you.
”Alright, Anon, we have to go down to the meeting room now.”
“Really?! I can go with you?!”
“Of course you can, you’re an official prince now.”
You lift him up onto your back once again. He’s shivering slightly. The fever must be dying down faster than you thought.
“My little prince, would you do me the royal honor of holding this blanket for me?” you ask as you float his blanket over to him.
“The honor is all ours, mommy!”
You smile at his imitation of Luna as you bundle him up in the blanket.
The two of you reach the meeting room faster than you expected to. Listening to your son talk about his day yesterday must have distorted your perception for a moment. Not that you mind, it’s a wondrous thing to hear him speak. All the trivialities of your life seem refreshed and new through his.
You stride over to your seat at the table and Anon settles himself in next to you. The delegates from the smaller towns and villages begin filtering in shortly. Anon looks very bored before the meetings have even begun.
You wave over one of the guard and request some crayons and parchment. When he returns with it you ask Anon to draw some pictures for the delegates, as it was a very important princely duty.
”Okay, mommy,” he chirps back as he looks through the crayons before him.
Thankfully the seat is quite large; it may as well be a couch with a high back. Your son colors away wrapped in his golden blanket as the delegates continue to enter and greet you and your little prince. A quick headcount is made and it would seem that delegations are ready to begin.
You can feel a weight press in on your side. You look down to see Anon has nestled himself into your side, the crayon he was drawing with drops out of his hand.
It rolls across the parchment and you can’t help but tuck him under your wing.
You look up at the delegates.
“Let us begin the delegations, but if we may… could we do so quietly?” you ask sheepishly.
The delegates all nod and the meeting gets underway.