//------------------------------// // Black and Blueblood // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Fleur was gone after keeping him company for a little over an hour or so, and Sundance was reduced to solitude. Half-awake, half-aware, he drifted perilously close to slumber, and his aching, exhausted body begged him to let go. But let go it did not. Just as he would approach the precipice, his mind would seize upon a memory and the resulting jolt would restore his fast-fading awareness. Like so many other colts who thought they were clever, he had once snuck up to the roof for a cigarette. His mother had caught him—his scent had betrayed him—and she had done nothing to punish him. There was no second time, because he knew that if he was caught again, there would be no mercy. He was allowed to get away with just about anything, once. His mother believed that experience was the best teacher, and so he was allowed to make his own mistakes. He was also allowed to fully experience the consequences. When he was younger, before he had his mark, before he found his way, he fancied himself as something of a writer, and when he was in school, he roamed the city to listen to all of the things that the residents of the city had to say. He had gone about, he was quiet, and he had listened. Nopony paid much attention to foals hanging about, and loose tongues wagged. Sundance wrote down much of what he had heard, and then, once he was home, he tried to construct a scenario as to why somepony might have said what they had said. His attempts to write met little success, but he developed empathy. The quiet sounds of his parents bickering echoed in the pain-dulled recesses of his mind. Shouting was rare, but it did happen on occasion. Never once had there been violence, and explosive anger never lasted long. One day, his mother and father realised they were still good friends, but they weren’t in love, and cohabiting with one another had been a dreadful mistake that had damaged their friendship. The day before his father had left, Sundance’s mother had fixed him his favourite meal and baked him a cake. Of all of the lessons that Sundance might have learned from his parents, he had learned to not hold a grudge. In the classroom he had his schooling, but it was on the rough city streets of Baltimare that Sundance had his education. Hard work had no guarantee of reward, but that was no reason to give up. It was certainly no reason to turn to crime, drugs, or vice. At least, his father had convinced Sundance of that. As for his mother, the beat cop? Officer Mom? She was the evidence that crime didn’t pay. Getting his first real adult job as a medical courier had been a moment of triumph. Getting a job selling drugs might have paid more, and there were a lot more bits to be had in robbery and vice, but he had a respectable, honest job. His mother was proud of him and she had baked him a cake, as she was wont to do. She had also sat down and had a drink with him. Sundance could still remember the fizziness of the cider, and his lightheadedness. But his greatest satisfaction came from throwing himself into his project… Sundance snorted himself awake to the sound of somepony clearing their throat. One eye opened while the other eye was still swollen shut. Confusion reigned for a few seconds while the real world burned its way into his consciousness; meanwhile, the tapping of hailstones against the window were distracting. Two ponies were examining his injured wing, one older pegasus, and one young unicorn. “What’s going on?” Sundance mumbled. “We’re worried about the swelling,” the older pegasus replied. “Compartment syndrome is a concern,” the younger unicorn said. “That bone bruise in your terminal phalanx is quite nasty. Might be bleeding in the muscles of your wing. The swelling is alarming.” “Am I in trouble?” Sundance blinked a few times to try and clear his blurry, fuzzy vision. “Goodness no.” The older pegasus offered up a reassuring smile and lifted his head to look Sundance in the eye. “We have a healer on staff. He’s young and a bit inexperienced, and he’s certainly no Princess Cadance, but he did get some training from her. Such a rare gift, healing.” “Right now, he’s resting a bit,” the unicorn said while he continued to examine Sundance’s wing with one squinty eye. “Healing your friend exhausted him—” “Is she okay?” Sundance blurted out while his mind hastened to sudden full awareness. “She’s had a rough go, but she is expected to recover. I can’t tell you much more, I’m afraid, because of patient protection policies and such.” The pegasus’ smile never wavered. “We can only give detailed info to family members—” “But I need to know!” Sundance struggled to sit up, but a warm, tingling force pressed him back down into the bed. Still, he struggled, even though everything hurt, and his legs felt leaden when he willed them into action. “I’m responsible for her! I’m her caretaker! I have to know that she’s okay! You have to tell me!” “You will tell him,” a deep, rumbling, somewhat nasal baritone commanded, a familiar voice that Sundance couldn’t quite place in his current condition. “By my orders, you will give Lord Sundance Sunfire anything he requests, or you will be made to answer for your insubordination. Am I understood?” “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” The older pegasus gave a nod and his smile vanished, perhaps heading south until the spring blizzard was over. “Is she okay?” Sundance asked, pleading. Sighing, the old pegasus stepped away from the bed, but remained in Sundance’s field of vision. “We couldn’t save her leg. I’m not even sure if Princess Cadance could have saved her leg, and she can perform truly miraculous healings. The radius and humerus were completely shattered and we had to amputate everything from the scapula downward.” Upon hearing this, Sundance went still, his struggles ceased, and he closed his eye. “It was a clean removal,” the pegasus continued in a flat monotone, devoid of emotion, warmth, or feeling. “The whole area was tidied up in surgery and was healed over to leave behind a smooth, clean, scar-free surface. No stump left behind to snag or bang on things. No mess of sensitive scar tissue. It’ll be much better for her this way and she’ll have a fine quality of life, even with three legs.” “A pony can adapt to life on three legs just fine,” the younger unicorn said and now, he was the reassuring one. He let go of Sundance’s wing, harrumphed as if he was much, much older, and then, pulling a clipboard out from the foot of Sundance’s bed, he began to write something down. “We’ll be back in an hour or so to check on you,” the pegasus said as his companion stepped away. “That wing is a worry, but soon it’ll be right as rain. You have my word.” Prince Blueblood sat in the corner of the room, scowling a magnificent scowl, and a pale white colt stood beside his chair. Sundance, now laying on his side, was able to see his guests with his good eye. His legs felt too long, his head was too far away from his body, and it felt as though his ears were full of cotton. “Why are you here?” Sundance asked. In response, Prince Blueblood tossed his head about, flinging his forelock from his face, and replied, “To ensure that you were not thrown out on the street like a common beggar. Good grief, how stupid does one have to be to fly into Canterlot when there is a storm? I didn’t think that anypony was that monumentally stupid, not even Prince Gosling, and he’s an insufferable fop. It seems we have a new Prince of the Witless Wonderdolts.” “What else was I to do?” Sundance demanded. “Oh, I don’t know, fly to Ponyville?” Prince Blueblood’s eyes narrowed while he shook his head from side to side. “Really, why are you here? And who is that with you?” Sundance glanced at the much friendlier looking colt. “Nuance is my apprentice.” Prince Blueblood made a dismissive wave with his hoof. “As if my life wasn’t complicated enough, I was saddled with a dolt apprentice. Nopony else wanted anything to do with him, and I was coerced into doing the right thing. Family… you know how it is. Nepotism. Now he is just one more headache among many.” Upon hearing this, Sundance was moved to sympathy for Nuance, who no doubt bore the brunt of Prince Blueblood’s boorishness. “We came here on behalf of my mother, Princess Celestia, with a sincere message of thanks.” The colt cleared his throat, stood up a little straighter, and held his head at a prim, proper angle. “You went above and beyond the call of duty, and for this, the Crown is grateful.” “I can’t wait until that wretched prepubescent squeak of yours is finally gone,” Prince Blueblood remarked and the colt’s face turned a bright, beet red. For a moment, Sundance thought about saying something, but he bit his lip. Prince Blueblood had been helpful so far and would no doubt continue to be so in the future. As for Nuance though, Sundance made a mental note to be nice to the poor colt in further meetings, because the poor kid had the unenviable position of being Prince Blueblood’s lackey. When Nuance spoke again, his voice was extra squeaky. “To teach me responsibility, I have been put in charge of all future correspondence between your barony and the Crown. My mother, Princess Celestia, she stays very busy, so all future communicative inquiries, formal requests, and things of that nature are to be made through me. Princess Celestia very much wants you to have success, and now, I am one of the many resources at your disposal. Ask for me by name.” Sundance wondered how long the colt had rehearsed his lines. “You know, that day in the cafe, you weren’t so bad, but right now—” “Yes?” Prince Blueblood cut in with one eyebrow arched. “You’re a bit harsh on the poor colt.” Sundance watched, waited, trying to read the prince’s expression, but there was nothing to read, nothing to be had on the perfect mask that was the prince’s face. The prince laughed, a sarcastic sound, which caused Nuance to tuck his tail between his legs. “Your sudden celebrity status is to my advantage. Welcome to the game, Lord Sundance Sunfire. Play well, or expect to be played.” Prince Blueblood smiled and there was something about his eyes. “Come, Nuance, our work is done here. Sundance has been properly thanked. Perhaps we shall return to check upon him on the morrow.” “Goodbye, Lord Sundance, it was nice meeting you.” Nuance bowed his head while his master rose, and he sidestepped to be out of Prince Blueblood’s way. “We’ll talk, Nuance,” Sundance replied, and he shot his sternest look in Blueblood’s direction. As the pair of them made their way to the door, Sundance realised that things might not be quite as they seemed, that first impressions could be false ones, and that he was, in fact, playing a game. Lady Pebble was The Dominator for a reason, he supposed, she played the game well. He didn’t even know the rules and he was certain that this put him at a crippling disadvantage. What was Prince Blueblood’s part in this, anyhow? Sudden celebrity status? Alone once more, Sundance had much to think about.