"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
The words perplexed Her Majesty, Princess Celestia. Not because of their content, she received similar comments from time to time. Nor because of the presumption of another audience, for she held court for any who would petition her for at least one to two hours every day, usually most of the day during the week proper. No, what perplexed her was the pony who spoke them.
He was a tiny thing, a colt that memory informed her was part of a field trip that passed through the palace just a day before, and to speak his petition, one of the last of the day in fact, he was left to stand quietly in line with the other petitioners for nigh of an hour, at least. No parents accompanied him, and 'petition' delivered, he cantered down the red carpet and back out the exit door.
Her look of perplexion lasted until the door clicked closed, and in a rare break of stoicism, one of the guards shrugged.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
True to his word, the colt returned the following day, and the day after.
His 'petitions' came late in the day, and were received with graceful dip of the head and the response, "Of course, my little pony."
The given answer quickly became an odd little ritual between Princess Celestia and the colt. He never gave his name, nor made a request, nor stayed past the affirmation of the Princess, but after the first week of his visits (for a petition usually required a request be made), he was allowed by the guard on duty to enter without the queue. This may have made some petitioners angry if not for the colt leaving nary moments after entering, always wearing a smile.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
The words came from the colt, grown then into a youthful stallion, as they had without fail since the first visit. Each at the end of the day's court, for a routine was well established by then, and the guards knew to expect him.
Newly emblazoned on his flank rested a cutie-mark, earned that very day for the Princess would have recalled seeing it the day before. A block plane curling up a wood shaving. A carpenter, then.
The Princess knew she could ask his name, even his profession, but initially surprise had turned to amusement, and then comfort. Little rituals were comforting to while away the time until her sister's return, and this one was pleasant enough. Besides, it was something of a mystery to tease her mind with, to see what she could learn and discern from her daily visitor without breaking their ritual, nor asking after him.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
In the depths of winter storms he came, when only the most dire (or drolly conceited) petitions were brought, to summer where even some palace servants took days off to play in the sun with families. As time passed, he grew older and stronger, form filling out from gangly to full and handsome. His voice deepened and each word was given in a steady voice and flavored with a smile.
Always her response was as it was before, and it too was touched with the warmth of a smile that glowed all the more for it's sincerity. "Of course, my little pony."
At times, he would enter immaculately groomed and dip his head in a courtly bow. Others, he would hobble, face flushed with a faint fever, and voice thick with illness. For a full week he came in crutches with a brace about a foreleg. The little highs and lows of life on full display, but always he managed a smile for his princess.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
On that day he wore a suit, black with tie, and joined by a mare still in the gown of her wedding, who entered only the first few steps into the throne room, and his smile was perhaps one of the most bright of his life. To the Princess' amusement the next several visits were considerably less groomed, but the smile was just as genuinely happy, as were his words.
Privately Princess Celestia was relieved, previously worried to some degree that the stallion was perhaps pining for her in some way, but found herself sharing her visitor's happiness on his very wedding day, and those following. She was surprised that they didn't venture far or wide on a honeymoon but the continuance of their ritual touched her even through it, even as dry wit drew her to imagine the face of his wife upon his announcement he was to meet her again on the very day after their wedding.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
The mare joined her stallion again for the visit, and held near to her heart was a foal in a cotton blue blanket, only a wisp of mane visible. The family wore smiles that varied, from the simple pleased sleep of a child with it's parents, to the proud grin of a father, and of course the shy uncertainty of a new mother too.
That visit was quite a shock, that such a young foal, perhaps just a few days born, would be brought before her by a mother for the odd ritual of her husband. Though the ritual was left uninterrupted, Princess Celestia stopped the mare from leaving with her foal with a raised hoof after the husband had stepped past the door. She descended from her throne, and placed a kiss on the foal's forehead, along with a glimmer of magic for luck. She stood at the door as they left, still without another word spoken, though the mare this time bowed and thanked her.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
For once those words were not given with a smile, and tracks showed tears on the stallion's cheeks, a black suit once again worn. His voice shook with emotion, but he managed a small smile as their eyes met after the bow with which the words were delivered.
"Of course, my little pony." Spoke the Princess, in her half of the ceremony, her own voice speaking through tone reassurance and care, though the words were given the same as always.
That time, a small nod interrupted the usual progression of their visit, but as always before, he turned and left, gait a bit less haggard than his arrival.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
He was growing old, now. Mane grew somewhat thin and spectacles bridged his muzzle, but it still held luster with only light graying. Nicks had begun appearing in his hooves, where chisel or plane would now and then drift from their target, and from time to time still he came with sickness, once under the aid (and disapproval) of a nurse.
On that particular occasion the Princess of the Sun felt a small jolt of sorrow and loss; for though each day was precious and cherished they still passed, and fell into the spanning pool of her life with all her other memories. Still, his voice was strong, and if she closed her eyes for but a moment, it was the colt standing before her. Still, though the aging pony was not spry, he was still strong, and had years left for him.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
Wiser and greyer, the stallion walked with a cane, accompanied by his son who was so much like him now, more days than not. Always he came and waited by the door, wearing a little smile now and again, while the Princess and her carpenter shared their words.
Each visit was a little glimpse at this odd little pony, a life told in snapshots and without words. Each day as he grew older, she found a growing wish to know his name, but felt to admit to a servant - or worse, to him - that she didn't even after so many years would be a disservice. He was known by then to more than one generation of guards, and at least by sight to the courtiers and servants. One day, she decided if she could not find the answer herself, she would ask.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I fear I shall not see you on the morrow."
The words were given in a tired voice, but not one that was sad, or weak. Still they bore hint of strength from youth and a lifetime of practice. The stallion was an elder then, legs thin and lacking in much of the strength of his youth, and eyes looked upon hers, but saw only shadows through thick lenses. His coat was grey, and mane white, though it grew thin. The only true color that remained was on his cutiemark, just as vibrant as the very first time she saw it.
The words shocked the Princess of the Sun, for finally their little ritual came to an end, as the words had changed, and her answer no longer fit.
"My little pony, this day, as all of those before it, and all those that shall come after, are my pleasure to give to you, and every living being in this world. I ask though, why would you not come to see me on the morrow?" The Princess asked, rising from her throne and approaching the old stallion, and his son just by the door.
"My Princess, I am old, and greatly tired. My wife rests, and I feel I shall join her by the dawn. Would that I could thank you for the day, but it will not be mine to accept." His voice responded, a smile wrinkling his face in a way that was at home on his features.
"Oh my little pony, know that as I have lit your day, you have lit mine. So I thank you, instead, for this day and many, many others. May I offer you, my friend whose name I am ashamed I have never learned, anything?" The Princess responded, a smile set on her own features even as her eyes shown with sorrow.
"I ask only that you find cause to smile, Princess, as you did before me, and will assuredly after. Do you know why I came, that very first day, and every day after?" His voice shook with laughter, eyes closed in a mess of wrinkles.
"I do not, but worry not for my smile; with ponies like you, how could I ever lack a reason?" Celestia's response came, a slight perking of ears and softening of eyes accompanying her smile becoming a hair more genuine.
"It is because of you the sun warms us in summer, and feeds us through winter. It is thanks to you that we live in peace and harmony. It is by your grace that the day chases away the night and the bad dreams therein... But who then makes you smile? Who chases away the dark for you? Your smiles did not touch your eyes, and I remember still that you did not feel happy to me, long ago." The old stallion responded, smile falling as he spoke, then took a few moments to catch his breath. "I cannot light the sun, so the least I could do is thank you and try to share what you give us with you, too. And so I have."
The Princess' head drew back faintly in surprise at the response, smile slipping away, before returning, and in the old pony's heart knew it to be true. "It is for ponies like you that I raise the sun. Do not worry my little pony, I shall have all the cause in the world to smile, even if it takes a little work to find it."
"Then I thank you again, my Princess, for the day, but it is time I make my way home, and sleep." With one last bow, the old stallion dipped his head, turned, and started his way out, joined by his son just after.
-☀-
"Thank you for the day, my Princess. I shall see you on the morrow."
The words came not from her old friend, but the stallion who had come with him just the day before, dressed now in black.
"Of course, my little pony. I shall be waiting."
Author's Note
The stallion is intentionally left unnamed, and largely undescribed, to let the reader draw their own conclusions, if they decide he even needs one.
