Raven was a mare prone to squeaks upon being surprised. Now, she was choking down that little sound in the same way somepony might have ground paper beneath their hooves and into the mud. Away with the sight of such an unwanted note! Raven wanted much the same as her tiny sound. A whimper was eased out of her instead. She sounded like a gods-forsaken mouse.
Squeak, squeak.
Somepony had gone and spilled the princess on the floor! The great, pale mare was spilled across her the pillows of her writing room. All was so quiet that the only sounds to be heard were Raven's quick and quaking heartbeat and the soft churs of Philomena, who was curled up next to the shockingly regalia-free Celestia. With every little sound from the phoenix, the fire stirred and embers crackled faintly.
Seeing Celestia snoozing was astoundingly rare. Breaks in composure were startling, nor did Celestia ever just appear without her regalia. Most of the stories Raven heard about staff stumbling upon the sight of sleeping sun goddesses were from her mother's friends and fellow maids as a filly. Even when they spoke in soft voices of the occasional incidents where they saw their goddess and boss in rarer daily acts, they never mentioned Celestia without her regalia. Those who did manage to see her little naps always took care to include it in stories. The general concession of those tea circles was that Celestia likely even wore them to bed.
Now, Raven saw them shoved behind the pillow Celestia was laying upon, almost as if they had fallen there. At least, that's what Raven would have thought had she not cleaned her glasses and caught a glimpse of her shoes and necklace there as well, hiding in the shadows where the firelight could not illuminate them.
Most startling of all was not just how personal this sight was and how it encouraged beads of cold sweat to form behind Raven's neck, but that there were still quills, papers, and inkwells scattered about. Those had always been in the stories of her mother's tea circles, long before Raven ever could have imagined working in the castle. It was clear that Princess Celestia was a mare of schedules, and that all naps breached such careful organization. She likely slept in her regalia.
What drew Raven's attention more than the regalia, was the face of the princess. Raven knew that she must've plucked off her regalia at some point when she felt herself growing sleepy. Or, that's how things looked to Raven. But clearly, whatever happened ended the same. The face of the princess still rested atop a few papers, and a few quills were fallen nearby. She must've dropped hers. Faint dribbles of ink dotted her muzzle, and the tiniest was smudged onto her cheek where she had failed to move her papers away.
Raven debated whether she should do something about the ink. If she stepped forward, she might disturb the sleeping princess, and the thought of doing something so inconsiderate made Raven feel weak in her knees. This was not the usual swooning feeling that Celestia stirred in the little mare, this was a sad feeling. The thought of disappointing the one she loved most made Raven feel a bit ill. Still, leaving the princess would probably prove to be the worst option, and one of negligence. That would go against the very core of Raven's duty.
With a few nervous, dainty hops of steps, Raven tippy-hoofed her way over to Celestia before she remembered to breathe. With even more careful motions, she used her magic to move the elegant head of Celestia aside, and lift it gently. She prayed to all gods — which, yes, did include Celestia by some irony — that the sleeping mare would not stir because of her actions.
She was thankful that Celestia was a deep sleeper, and that dusk had worked its own magic on her. For such a magnificent mare, moving the sun was no challenge. Raven could only wonder at how such power would drain a lesser pony. Yet, even the stillness of fall was not something Celestia could resist. It tempted her to retire earlier than she usually did, as Raven had noticed. There was something sleepier and slower about both the season and the princess.
The divine, mystical mane of the sun goddess waved more sluggishly. Maybe it was just the light, but the colors looked just a touch fainter. Raven couldn't be sure why. What she could be sure of is that when she pressed the tiny hoofkerchief to tidy up the face of the princess as gingerly as possible was of how she smelled. The faint scent of cider and fire was detectable, as was the scent of an autumn chill that Raven knew Celestia would've picked up from her time in the gardens.
When all the ink was gone, Celestia still slept on. Raven felt a swell of thankfulness at Celestia's continued slumber. The languid pace of the late evening kept on going when Raven's nervous heartbeat subsided. The slow creep of time and a faint chill even the fire could not seem to drive away made the world slow and sticky with lethargy. Raven's stomach grumbled slightly, thinking of molasses and the other treats to come as winter wore on. The princess was a mare of understandably refined taste, and while there were some common treats she had simply had yet to sample, Celestia always ensured the finest molasses was delivered to the castle from the best Equestria's farms had to offer. Could anything less be expected of the castle's cuisine?
Having grown up in Canterlot all her life, and not one for travel, watching the kitchen staff refine what portion of raw ingredients weren't already made into molasses upon their arrival was just as much of a treat as the syrup. Everypony in the castle looked forward to molasses season as they would with other seasonal treats.
Raven was most certainly looking forward to having pancakes with Celestia, and getting to taste the fresh molasses. She was also looking out to make sure that her magic guided Princess Celestia's head to a proper resting place for anypony: on one of her pillows. There, she would have no ink on her face and no risk of rolling onto poor Philomena. As feisty as the bird was, Raven didn't want to see her squashed.
A few flicks of her magic had pulled away from the quills and things so that they could go somewhere else, where they were less likely to be squashed. She snuck a few extra logs into the fire, wincing just a bit when they hissed at the touch of flame. She had paused for a few seconds, nervously standing about and not wanting to make any extra sound, lest Alicorn and the bird wake. Upon spotting a few dribbles of ink elsewhere, she decided to clean those up too.
All of this was no doubt possible because of what a deep sleeper Celestia proved to be. Raven had never given much thought to it before, because what went on when Celestia closed a door was a world unknown to her secretary. She saw the princess when the sun rose and the mare was still tired despite her composure, when her mane was still not quite perfect and she tiredly whimpered for coffee and a return to her bed before her other subjects saw her again as their immaculate princess.
One muffled poof resonated throughout the room, and in the glittery grip of Raven's magic was a blanket conjured from elsewhere. As quietly as possible, Raven unfolded the blanket and crept closer to the sleeping form of the much larger mare. Her ascot felt tight around her throat as she tenderly tucked in the exhausted, serene Celesia. Once she gave a few more careful tugs to the blanket, she knew that the mare who worked harder than anypony else was properly taken care of. For now, her work was done.
Author's Note
As soon as I saw that picture, I knew that it was meant for me to write about. Thank you to the artist for the wonderful work and everyone for reading! I whipped up a bit of fluffy word vomit (yeah, not the best mental image, I know) post-Thanksgiving and while working on Enemy of Mine and life stuff.
I hope y'all like it! It's been a while since I've done a picture prompt story, and a new story in general. While that is intentional, this was short, easy, and too good to pass up writing. I liked trying another no-dialogue story and another crack at the 'story where nothing happens', like I did with Bat Ponies Aren't Real.
