Chapter Text
(Art by @lilithsblackcat on instagram, commissioned by me)
On her fortieth birthday, Glimmer realized she was just as immortal and ageless as her mother was. It was a slow realization, something she never thought about until one small comment from Catra.
“Hey Sparkles, I just noticed. Besides growing like, two inches, you look exactly the same as you did ten years ago.”
It was a small comment. One made in jest at how similar her thirtieth and fortieth birthday portraits were. And her twentieth. But it was a small thing, maybe it was just good genes, after all her mother was an angelic being, and her father looked good for a man who only ate bugs for ten years.
But that was it, right? She also didn’t get sick. Ever. Unless it was magic poison after being trapped in an anti-teleport field. She wasn’t worse for wear after having nine children (Bow wanted fourteen, she wanted four, they compromised). She didn’t complain of lower back pain like Adora did, or of joint pain like Catra. Her hair wasn’t turning gray and white like everyone else’s, she wasn’t getting wrinkles and smile lines, no matter how much fun she had. She didn’t have stress lines either.
She didn’t feel like she was out of her prime like Bow, Mermista, and Scorpia. Yes, her power was now split between her and her eldest son, Sword, but that was normal. It was familiar, like when she was younger.
At least she was taller! It was normal for grown adults to get taller, right?
No, it wasn’t.
Her birthday party was fun and exciting, with three generations in attendance. Her and Bow’s eldest child, Sword, was almost their age when they found She-Ra. Glimmer tried to have smaller parties, but as the queen, she had to keep up appearances, and celebrating every nice round number birthday was perfect for it.
So of course, she had to invite every prince and princess, a solid quarter of the kingdom, dignitaries from all over the world, and quite a few from out of the world.
Etheria was part of the new galactic community, after all. And as the most powerful kingdom on Etheria leading the most powerful military and economic alliance on Etheria, Bright Moon ended up being the default host for alien diplomats, traders, explorers, tourists, and entrepreneurs.
Look, Glimmer spent a lot of time turning part of the Princess Alliance into a trade pact, it was hard!
She was mulling over the thought for half of the party, when Adora was able to drag her to the side, and Glimmer was thankful for it.
Adora was still as lively as ever, a little slower than before, but she made up for it in being much wiser and happier. The two of them quietly and peacefully sat underneath a tree, taking in the sounds of laughter and music.
Glimmer had almost forgotten her previous problem until Adora confided something she had only told Catra. She said that one day, she would pass on her powers to her child, Finn. They could inherit the powers of She-Ra, she and Entrapta had discovered. It could be passed down, just like other princess powers, but by choice, not blood. But that was a long way away, she had said.
Adora said. “But it’s a long way from now. I think Finn should get a chance to grow up, you know? All of our kids should. They didn’t have to grow up fighting a war.”
“We did good,” Glimmer said. “I dream of the portal sometimes, like a memory of what might have been. Not often, but sometimes. I remember how it felt, to be at peace, to have a full family. But now I’ve realized that we did achieve that dream for our kids.”
It was a heavy thought, thinking about the day Adora would retire from being She-Ra. It made her think about others retiring too. Her father had retired a long time ago. And while most princesses ruled well into their sixties, the nature of their positions always led to heirs and successors at the back of their mind.
Glimmer knew that Sword would one day take over. She would retire one day, live out the rest of her days with Bow in quiet comfort, right?
Her mother ruled Bright Moon for centuries, long before she met Micah, and if things were different, maybe long after too.
Maybe. Queen Angella always intended for Glimmer to take the throne one day. But how long into the future did she originally plan for?
Maybe Glimmer should have an honest talk with Sword about this. He was still young, so maybe it could wait. She had a party to attend to, after all. When Bow came up to the tree, Glimmer forgot about it all, worries washed away as she held her husband.
The rest of her party was going well. Mermista and Perfuma were arguing over Mer-Mysteries. Ever since Perfuma took over the mantle of author, Mermista had been nitpicking and criticizing every book. Glimmer might have accidentally fanned the flames of their rivalry, and now Mermista was going to write and publish her own Mer-Mystery novels.
Sword and Scorpia were discussing strategies about a board game they were playing earlier, and how Sword’s playstyle was much better suited for the mid-to-late game than Scorpia’s. Honestly, it went over Glimmer’s head.
Glimmer’s second child, Glow, and Frosta were having fun in the aftermath of their ball game, along with the remaining seven of Glimmer and Bow’s children. Sword wasn’t that much of a player, so Frosta ended up subbing in.
Entrapta had a fireworks display set up, and as the day became night, and the stars were lighting up the darkness, the world was filled with beauty as her fortieth birthday party came to a close.
—
It was just past her fiftieth birthday when news of Hordak’s death arrived. He was always in ill health, needing an exoskeleton and frequent surgery just to survive on Etheria. No amount of advanced technology and Entrapta’s genius could stop it. She-Ra’s magic, Adora’s intervention, staved off his death for almost thirty years, ten years each time, but it was inevitable.
The funeral was a private affair, Hordak’s actions against the people of Etheria still loomed over his name even after he was gone. Adora never said another bad word about him, even after everything. In the last few decades, the two of them had reached a mutual understanding. Hordak was a changed man, who spent his last years teaching and counseling his fellow clones, leading them away from Horde Prime’s burning, scalding light, and into a gentler, truer light.
Adora said that he was happy every single moment he was with Entrapta. He was happy to be alive, to be better than what Prime had set out for him. Catra spoke about her time in the Horde, and how much Hordak had changed. Lonnie spoke as well, as did Kyle, Scorpia, Rogelio, Octavia, Glimmer, even Mermista.
Glimmer had a few words to say, because in the end, he was to her, a symbol. The symbol of the Horde itself, for many years, his death was the end goal. She said he imagined once that he would have been brought out to be executed for his crimes against Etheria. Now, she was sad that he was gone at all.
He really did change. He really was better. And the world was worse without him.
Mermista admitted that she had forgiven him a long time ago. That she even liked him, even after everything. She said that even though what happened happened, he spent all of his time and energy making up for all the strife he had caused, and, finally, Mermista got around to understanding. She knew what it was like, to be raised and influenced and controlled by Prime, and in the end, while she could fault him for everything, she did in fact forgive him.
And she would miss him.
Perfuma was the last one to speak, but meant it to be an opener for Entrapta to say the last part. Entrapta was silent the entire time. No one pressured her, and they left her in peace, with Scorpia and Catra keeping tabs on her over the following months and years.
—
During Glimmer’s sixtieth birthday party, a dignitary representing the Crimson Tribes remarked that Glimmer and Sword looked more like siblings, not mother and son. Everyone laughed at that, Glimmer now used to her youthful appearance.
Many months later, her father died peacefully in his sleep. There was no indication of significant health problems, it was just sudden. The day before, he had joked and laughed at a large family gathering. The funeral was a quiet affair. Most of his friends and family died in the war, and Castaspella had passed just a few months prior. Glimmer worked her hardest to make sure the news and press stayed out of it, leaving only respectful obituaries in their wake. Maybe a documentary and biography or two.
After it was over, she let herself grieve. Bow was there the whole time, and so were their children. The world felt still, there was no movement. Not even the planet’s rotation. Eventually, the darkness in her life left, and the world regained its color, bit by bit. Two months passed, and Etheria continued to turn.
Glimmer returned to her duties as Queen after her brief respite.
Her father’s mural, the first one made after he disappeared, was revamped. Her mother was added by his side. The two of them, together in unison.
Idly, Glimmer wondered what her mural would be like, when she was gone. Then, she pushed the thought away. That was no good thing to think about.
—
Weeks after her seventieth birthday, came the news of Catra’s passing. Years of malnutrition had gotten the best of her, as well as not always eating the best nor keeping her health on the forefront of her mind. She was always reckless, pulling dangerous stunts, always making use of the excuse of having nine lives. She burned through those lives faster than normal people burned through skiffs. Not even She-Ra’s healing magic could turn back the tides of her myriad compounding problems.
It was a big party. A joyous celebration. It was Catra’s idea. It was tough to celebrate with a smile, and eventually, Finn and Adora broke down in tears.
Glimmer and Bow were there for them, the entire way through.
—
It was a few months before her seventy-third birthday when Adora announced her retirement. She would pass on the mantle of She-Ra to Finn. Finn, despite being in their forties, looked the same as they did in their twenties, a feeling Glimmer was very familiar with.
Entrapta once said, before she became a recluse, that Finn likely had some variety of hybrid vigor, being half Eternian and half cat. Their lifespan was somewhere in the centuries, she said.
The science went over Glimmer’s head at the time, but as the years passed, she began to learn more and more about Entrapta’s work. About Bow’s work. About the work being done every day by scientists and sorcerers across Etheria and the universe. She had the time.
Adora spent her years in retirement in Bright Moon and the Whispering Woods, refurbishing old maps and teaching kids how to sword fight. Her final project was going to be a map of the known universe, in all its glory.
A shining galaxy, millions and millions of stars, a thousand inhabited worlds and ever expanding as more and more space was explored. The frontiers were ever changing, ever moving, and so was the universe at large.
Three months before Glimmer’s eighty-fifth birthday, Adora passed away. Fighting a monster, protecting some civilians, was how it happened. It was how she always was. Her final map was incomplete, and no one dared finish it.
Finn, in their mantle as She-Ra, or They-Nar, left their home and began to travel Etheria, protecting all that needed protecting.
—
Just after her ninetieth birthday, Bow fell ill. Glimmer took off from her position as Queen to be with him, to nurse him back to health. Her eldest son, Sword, ruled in her stead. By the end of the month, he had recovered, although he was weakened now, and had to use a cane wherever he went. It was fine. He was still as lively as ever. Jovial as always, especially when surrounded by their grandchildren.
It reminded Glimmer that Bow had been retired for years now, even while she was still in the equivalent of Angella’s early years. She was a practiced hand at ruling Bright Moon, and that meant she could take time off. Time off to spend with her retired husband, time together while they still had some. She didn’t want to be like her mother and father.
She resolved for temporary co-rule. Sword ruled for four days of the week, while she ruled the remaining three. There was so much left to do together, for her and Bow.
Bow may have been slower, not as ready to run and a bit unsteady on his legs, but he was married to a woman who could teleport endlessly.
With four days of every week, they traveled and vacationed across the entire planet. Saw the world that they had saved, saw what it had grown into. For the first time in a long time, Glimmer appreciated the magic and wonder of Etheria.
They talked about maybe visiting space, traveling among the stars for a while. It sounded wonderful. Glimmers could take another extended leave of absence, they could visit all the myriad worlds they’ve made first contact with following the death of Prime, see all the amazing tourist traps they’ve concocted.
But, Bow’s health worsened. Soon, their trips across Etheria had to slow down, becoming less adventurous. They at least took a couple’s cruise, which was a new thing. It was nice.
Eventually, the trips across Etheria became trips to Mystacor, a place for Glimmer to relax from her hard work, and a place for Bow to recuperate and keep healthy. It was good, for both of them.
Soon, Bow was staying in Mystacor full time, his health was waning and Mystacor always did have the best healers. Glimmer visited every day, it was just a teleport away. It was okay.
Then, she was staying in Mystacor full time, taking another leave of absence. Sword was up to the task, and he visited as often as he could. So did the rest of Glimmer and Bow’s children, and nearly all of their grandchildren.
By her 98th birthday, Bow had passed away in bed, surrounded by family. Glimmer was by his side, holding his hand as always.
—
It was six months after Glimmer’s 108th birthday when Entrapta returned to the public eye by appearing in Bright Moon castle, asking for an audience with the Queen. She hadn’t aged a day.
Glimmer was at the outset, mildly skeptical. Shapeshifters were uncommon, but there were bound to be other impostor con artists out there, willing to make a quick buck by impersonating a lost princess.
Well, not so much lost, but a total hermit. Even Dryl stopped monitoring the exit points of Entrapta’s castle.
What brought Glimmer to come around, realizing that it really was Entrapta, was a simple question and a simple answer.
“What was in the buns?”
Entrapta simply smiled and answered, “I don’t know! But it was delicious!”
The real answer was dehydrated slaw. But it was an in-joke. No one on Darla quite knew what the dehydrated slaw actually was. Not even Darla. So no one knew for sure.
“It’s good to see you again,” Glimmer said.
“I’m sorry I missed everyone’s funerals,” Entrapta replied.
Glimmer paused and frowned. Of course. The last time they were all together was for Hordak’s funeral.
She called herself “Entrapta III”, and was a clone of the original Entrapta, made using Galactic Horde technology to continue the work of the original. Forever. She had all of the original’s memories, and the memories of each Entrapta further down the line. It was all very exciting, and she was incredibly surprised the project worked on her first attempt forty years earlier.
Entrapta II died in a subsequent unrelated lab accident. Luckily, she had gotten the automatic backups working, and had 99% of Entrapta II’s memories stored in III’s brain.
“What brought you back? It’s been so long, everyone else…” Glimmer started but stopped.
“I decided it was time to stop running away from the world. The real one, not the constructed perfect one I had built,” Entrapta said. “There’s a lot I’ve missed, a lot I need to make up for. My whole kingdom had to get on without me, and I’ve been trying to make amends.”
Ah. Was she then here because… “You don’t have to say sorry to me,” Glimmer said. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
Even if you left us again, Glimmer thought. But then she squashed it and thought, even if we left you alone first. “We should have gotten you out sooner.”
Entrapta gave a weak smile. “Scorpia tried for the longest time, up until the end. I just wished I listened.”
“What do you plan to do now?” Glimmer asked.
“I’m going back to Dryl. There’s a lot that needs to be done. Then, I’m going to publish everything I’ve been working on. I’m sure the Makers community would be happy.”
Glimmer smirked. “They’ve broken up. There’s the Makers Guild and the Makers Consortium now, so they’ll be fighting to publish your stuff.”
Eventually, the two of them bid farewell. Entrapta would return to Dryl, but not before visiting the gravesites she had missed before.
—
Some time after Glimmer’s 125th birthday, a famous playwright appeared in the royal court and asked her for permission and an interview, for she was writing a play about the star-crossed romance between She-Ra and Catra. She had already done extensive research into the history, and was already accomplished, with many of her plays performed across Etheria. Glimmer agreed, if the playwright would interview Finn, and got their permission as well.
The playwright agreed and began the long process of writing the play. She interviewed Glimmer extensively, and had historical records, and had even interviewed Entrapta IV beforehand. The playwright even took a pilgrimage to the crystal castle with Finn, and was able to tease out some saved memories, memories of Catra and Adora’s past, forgotten except only in stories. They were incorporated with Finn’s permission.
The interview with Glimmer was interesting to say the least. Glimmer was surprised at how many details from over a century ago she could recall, and double checked to make sure she wasn’t misremembering. But no, Glimmer’s memories were intact and fairly accurate, she even recalled some of the exact words she’d said long ago. Embarrassing to remember, even more embarrassing to have it written down and integrated into a story to be played out live.
Glimmer really was a rambunctious teenager once upon a time, wasn’t she? She really hoped most of her dialogue would be paraphrased. Alas, that would not be the case, and in many instances, they were direct, word-for-word copies.
Just before her 127th birthday, the final draft of the play was submitted to her desk. It was an emotional read. So much of it was exactly as she remembered, and the parts she wasn’t there for, she felt like she learned a lot about her friends, learned new sides of them she never appreciated while they were still there. Filled with tears she didn’t know she still had, she approved it.
The play entered production in the Bright Moon theater the following month, and opening night was a year away.
For the first time in a long time, time felt like it had slowed to a crawl. The anticipation of it all, the trickle of news of every milestone Glimmer learned of, from casting, to rehearsals, to creating period accurate visuals and costumes. The actress for Glimmer spent a week listening to recordings of Queen Glimmer speaking, so she could get her inflections just right. Then Glimmer herself met with her for lunch, so she could practice her mannerisms, just a bit. Although Glimmer was quick to point out that a lot of what she did now was tempered over a century of life.
Old recordings of her were more useful, she said. Her actress understood, and bowed out, saying she would do her proud.
A month after her 128th birthday, Glimmer and Finn cried at the opening premiere of She-Ra and Catra: Love Across the Stars.
—
The play was a smash hit. It captured the hearts and imagination of Etherians everywhere, knowing that their history was so full of heartache and love. It ran in Bright Moon for years, before the troupe began touring Etheria itself, putting on shows for all to see. They even left Etheria itself, touring out into near space. And for the myriad stars and worlds too far for humble performers to reach, recordings were sent.
Time passed, and as the actors aged, new cast members were added, replacing the others. Love Across the Stars would play continuously for years and years to come. Glimmer always wished her new actresses well, even offered for a short meeting to discuss anything they had questions about. Most accepted, a few politely declined.
Glimmer eventually left it as an open invitation to all Glimmer actors, but she could feel the distance between her and the play growing. The playwright, the one she talked with and read the drafts, eventually passed away of old age sometime when Glimmer was 164.
—
Sometime after her 197th birthday, Glimmer and Sword hosted Princess Prom in Bright Moon. When Glimmer was ninety-seven, she had waived the right to hold Princess Prom, as it would have taken months of her life, time she would have spent with Bow.
Most of the other princesses were understanding, although Glimmer swore she could feel resentment from them. It made sense. For them, it was giving up a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Princess Prom came only once a decade, a privilege and honor for only a few hundred people across the entire world. To host it was an honor, a sacred duty. It was tradition for a princess to accept the role with dignity and respect.
Glimmer declined the duty. She was the first princess to do so in over six hundred years, and the last time it occurred, it was because the kingdom was under severe financial collapse and couldn’t afford to host hundreds of princesses in an extravagant ball. But it didn’t matter. Bow was more important.
Luckily, Glimmer had a secret weapon. She simply waited. The world marched on, and Bright Moon at the time was in a politically strong position, with its Princess Alliance flourishing then, even as other members passed on their thrones to their heirs, Glimmer held it in place, and trade between them had made Etheria a more prosperous world.
Eventually, the other princesses forgot and forgave, or simply retired. Their successors heard the stories, but they didn’t have much feelings for the event that happened decades ago, and come on, Queen Glimmer was cool. Most of the younger princesses thought that, which really helped Glimmer out.
But now, Glimmer, Sword, and a few of her other children and grandchildren had to prepare for the All-Princess Ball. Glimmer herself hadn’t attended in about forty years, leaving it to Sword and his children. So with all of their help, they put together what they felt was the best ball Bright Moon had ever thrown.
It was working! Succeeding, even. Glimmer was a bit worried, if only because the many rules and traditions of Princess Prom had only increased as the years passed, several new ones explicitly made courtesy of Catra. “No using explosive devices” had to be added. So was “No using the rules as a cover to conduct espionage and cause other princesses to be ejected” rules were put in place, and that was only from her first attendance!
Actually, Glimmer remembered that one year Catra got Frosta ejected, and Frosta never forgave her for that.
Speaking of, the new Princess of Snows had met her and Sword, who were side-by-side, as was tradition. She bowed and did everything traditional, and then remarked how Sword looked more like her father than her son. Sword took in stride and laughed, while Glimmer felt conflicted. She maintained a straight face and deftly ignored it, but the thought stewed in her mind.
How much longer did Sword have? Would he really spend the rest of his life practicing? Just being the heir? Was that all he would amount to?
Sword loved Bright Moon. He didn’t rest on his laurels, he worked in law, spent time working on civil engineering projects, oversaw architectural design, and by this point did almost a third of Glimmer’s workload. But he was still only Prince Sword, and not King.
And what of herself? Glimmer looked out at the people in the room. She recognized a few of them, mostly her close descendants, Entrapta IX, and Finn, but beyond that, not really. Outside of the castle walls, she recognized who? Her guards, most of her servants, but who else?
And what else? When was the last time Glimmer really took time to get to know the city? And wait, when did Bright Moon Castle get a city surrounding it?
Besides the theater, what else had Glimmer been to? When was the last time she went shopping, or been to the market? Was the market she used to go to even still around?
She had to do something. At that moment, during Princess Prom, Glimmer began to plan her retirement.
It took some time. One didn’t just retire. Not if one wanted to do it properly. And not only that, Glimmer had to contend with a huge anniversary coming. Her 200th birthday. It was going to be an important event, one as grand as any Princess Prom, and an even more important milestone.
Two hundred years of life, and she was as youthful as ever. This was around the time when Angella was starting to be called immortal, and not just exceptionally long lived. With the precedent already set, Glimmer had been called immortal for over a century at this point, but it was still daunting to think about. Two hundred years. Just a couple more decades and she would have two centuries of rule under her belt.
She would survive it. She always did.
Her 200th birthday came and the biggest party in Bright Moon occurred on that day. The mood was electric. Everyone in the castle could feel it, and Glimmer saw it outside as well. Something like this just didn’t happen. It wasn’t everyday, even every year, that someone so important celebrated a bicentennial.
The 100 year celebration was a sensation, but muted with King Bow’s death still looming over Queen Glimmer’s mind. But this? Nothing truly wrong had happened in years. This celebration came with no strings, and everyone was free.
Even Glimmer was free, for she was now past the milestone, and she was ready to begin to leave. It made her smile, and feel just a bit of melancholy. She needed to reconnect, and it was a long time coming.
A few weeks after her 200th birthday, she decided it was time to step back. Retire, even. It was time to pass the throne to Sword, heir apparent for over a century. The coronation was exciting and majestic.
This was for Sword. Glimmer didn’t want the same sadness to loom over him at his coronation. And it wasn’t. The sadness here was one of change, not loss. So much better. Glimmer was still alive, she would still be around, a teleport away.
After the ceremony, Glimmer said her final goodbyes. One last family hug. One last salute to her guards and staff. With a medium sized bag, some casual clothes, and a trusty cape, Glimmer would wander Etheria, and see what the world she had once saved had become.