“Will you be able to haul this kind of load?” Turmeric asked while he stowed the final few packages in an open cargo crate. The unicorn, the same colour as his namesake, made quick work of loading everything that Rustic had provided. “I’ve spread out the weight between the two crates, so neither side is too heavy. I’ve got a lot of experience in packing for expeditions. It’s actually what I used to do for a living, when I worked for Fillydelphia University.”
“I’ll be fine,” Sundance replied, wondering if he would really be fine. This was quite a load and would certainly be a learning experience. “What made you come to Canterlot, if you don’t mind me asking?”
A yard away, Hennessy groaned and tossed his head about.
“I was young.” Turmeric paused for a moment, adjusted a package, and then turned his eyes skyward. “I was young, foolish, and had trouble saying no. I was a bit too submissive. My boss took advantage of that, and with me being so young and foolish, I let him.” There was a sigh, followed by some tongue clucking. “That’s the real trouble with being a sub. Saying no. To anything. It’s not in our nature to deny. I bet you have issues with that yourself, Sundance. I saw how easily you folded to Rustic. Would I be wrong if I guessed that you’ve said yes to everything asked of you so far, in regards to your barony?”
Mouth open, Sundance went to reply, but choked on the words. He’d gone along with everything so far. Princess Celestia gave him a barony, and though he was a bit hesitant, he couldn’t recall resisting. When Silver Lining had visited, he had agreed to all of her requests. The very idea of saying no, of being disagreeable, of causing a scene or disturbance, it made him itch just thinking about it.
“My former boss made the most wonderful promises,” Turmeric said, his eyes still skyward. “He was going to leave his wife, we were going to vacation in exotic places, and with me by his side, he was finally going to come out of the closet.”
“What happened?” Sundance’s ears fell, apologetic. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
“I found out about his collection of subs.” Turmeric’s head turned and now he stared off in the direction of Canterlot Castle. “He made all of the same promises. Said all of the same things to them. All of them were young, confused colts, just like me. He preyed on us. Our insecurities. The fact that we had trouble saying no. I… I couldn’t even break up with him. For a time, I… well, I don’t know what I was thinking. A part of me thought if I could just be submissive enough, if I caved to his every whim, submitted to his every desire, if I could just make him happy, then things would work out. And he… he exploited that.”
At this point, Sundance didn’t know what to say, and neither did Hennessy, it seemed.
“I’ll not speak ill of Princess Celestia, because I know her, and she’s been kind to me, but I will say this, my beautiful, handsome, feathered friend… she chose you because you like saying yes. This isn’t a bad thing. At least, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Just don’t let it become a problem. You might not know your north or south just yet, but make no mistake, gorgeous, you’re like us.” For a moment, Turmeric’s expression was almost shy, and his smile was warm. “Princess Celestia looks after her stable of yes-ponies and she treats them well. She’s careful about mutually beneficial relationships. Others in Canterlot, not so much. Be careful, Sundance.”
Rustic emerged, stepping out of the front door, and then he stood blinking while his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. When he did move, he didn’t walk so much as he pranced, a sashaying bouncy gait that made him seem lighter than air. He strolled over to where the others stood, came to a stop near Hennessy, and then turned his critical eye upon the sky truck.
“It’s so pedestrian,” he said in a hissy, exaggerated lisp. Cringing, Rustic shied away from the cargo cart, and with his hoof pressed against his brow, he let out a dramatic sigh. Still striking a pose, he looked Sundance in the eye while his tail swished from side to side. “I’ll be sending Turmeric out your way in a few days to do some scouting. He has a good eye for these things. See that he’s not eaten by bears, will you? That would be ghastly.”
“The barony isn’t really accessible at the moment—”
“Oh, pish posh.” Rustic rolled his eyes and made a dramatic waved with the hoof he had held over his brow. “We fabulous queens have fabulous ways and means.”
“That we do.” Turmeric smirked and then set to work, closing up the cargo crates and securing every latch.
“Thanks… for everything… I mean it.”
“Don’t be a stranger,” Hennessy said to Sundance. “And don’t be afraid to come to us for help. What are friends for?”
“Yes.” Rustic hissed the word. “There’s nothing in the bylaws stating that you have to be gay to join our club. That would be discriminatory.”
Whatever response Sundance had died in his throat. Being in the company of like-minded ponies appealed to him. He craved a sense of belonging, was desperate for it in fact, and though he tried to resist, his thoughts turned back to those confusing school years that troubled him. These weren’t the friends he expected, but he didn’t doubt that these were the friends he needed.
“I still feel bad for the misunderstanding.” Hennessy approached, his long legs swinging with a smooth, effortless gait. “When I saw you standing there, looking all bewildered and lost, I just wanted to help. I thought about our first meeting… you risked your life to save another. So I thought maybe I could help you, because that felt right. You seemed so meek and quiet standing there. Not wanting to make a fuss. I get confused sometimes, and forget that submissiveness and being gay are two very separate things. This has happened before, actually.”
“Yes it has,” Rustic muttered beneath his breath.
After the confusing years of school, Sundance wasn’t sure what to think about the prospect of having friends. Not just any friends, but friends that understood him. Friends that were like him. It was exciting, but at the same time, it was also scary. Overwhelming. He had found like-minded associates… and now what? What came next? This was a relief, but it also filled him with anxiety.
“We’ll have to get together. Have drinks. Hennessy doesn’t get many days off.” Turmeric kicked the sky truck a few times while his critical eyes looked over every latch. “I’m technically between jobs at the moment, but for now I work for Rustic and that’s not so bad. Might become a full time position.”
“He’s worried that it will hurt our friendship.” Rustic rolled his eyes while making a dramatic wave. “As if. Once, Turmeric and I got into an argument. Have you ever witnessed an argument between two power-bottoms? Over thirty minutes of awkward silence followed by an apologetic spot of tea. It was dreadful and we haven’t bickered since.”
“Oh, that’s not true at all—”
“Turmeric, are you trying to cause a scene?” Rustic’s meek demand was met with shock.
“Mercy, no.” Turmeric covered his mouth with one hoof and then shuffled about on three legs.
“Point made.” Rustic sighed the words, smiled, and then blew a kiss at his troubled companion.
“I’d like to get together.” Even as he said it, Sundance knew he wasn’t saying it to be amenable, it was something that he actually wanted. In fact, he felt downright starved for agreeable, understanding companions.
“Good then.” Rustic brought all of his attention to bear upon Sundance. “We’ll keep in touch. I look forward to doing business with you. You’d best be getting home, because you don’t want to risk a landing in the dark.”
“Good luck!” Hennessy offered, waving.
“Toodle-oo!” Turmeric too, waved.
“I can’t wait to watch you go.” With a flirtatious eyebrow waggle, Rustic waved goodbye.
“Thanks again… it was great meeting you all.” Sundance wanted to say more, but what? Words eluded him. For now, this would have to be enough. If he had friends, and it seemed that he did, there would be time to say more later. “You guys are the best… really.”
Rustic responded with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “Honey, don’t you forget it.”
This was the heaviest load that Sundance had ever hauled but he felt that he was handling it well. Though it was considerable weight, Sundance himself felt as light as one of his own feathers; weightless somehow, and flying felt effortless. Getting off the runway had been tricky, it had taken him almost the full length of it, but now that he was in the air and up to speed, he felt as though he could fly to the distant horizon.
Of course, doing such a thing would be folly.
Flying with a load like this was tricky, because one couldn’t land just anywhere for a rest. Pulling a cart, a wagon, a sky truck, that totally changed the dynamic of flying; it changed the fundamental nature of a pegasus in flight. No longer was he free as a bird, no. Hauling such a load forced one to plan ahead. Such a thing restricted flight and made one be responsible, or else.
For Sundance, his title as Baron was also a heavy weight in a sky truck.
No longer was he free to come and go. The weight had to be planned for, accounted for. It had to be taken into consideration. Yet, it was not onerous. One had to know where the runways were located. One had to know one’s established boundaries, and then be careful to not push one’s self too far. One had to manage the weight, lest one crash.
To stay airborne, all he had to do was maintain his forward momentum…
When Sundance touched down, the shadows were long and growing longer. The runway held up under a hard landing with a heavy load and he could not help but be impressed with its construction. He was tired, his wing joints ached, but he felt good about everything. In fact, he felt better than he had in a long time.
A few ponies had gathered to watch him land, including two curious foals, and he couldn’t wait to surprise them with nice things. Cucumber was coming, but he was slow and had a ways to go. The old retainer must have been busy when Sundance was first sighted. Sundance had himself a good flap, folded his wings, and offered his spectators a cool smile.
There was no sense in unhitching himself, as everything needed to be hauled in still, and hauling it would be easiest while it remained in the cart. Turning himself about, he headed in the direction of the opening to the box canyon. First, he walked the length of the runway, his curious spectators following behind him, and then he ran into trouble when he left the smooth surface of the landing strip.
Pulling a heavy load over the rough, uneven, grassy ground was harder than it looked, but not impossible. The sky truck had two wheels with a five by five square bed, and while it lacked the stability of four wheels, it at least balanced well enough. Turmeric’s careful packing probably helped.
Looking down to both his left and his right, he saw that he had escorts: Amber Dawn and Lemongrass trotted double-time to keep up with him. He saw their curious faces looking up at him while he looked down at them and he offered them both a reassuring smile. More ponies were gathering now, craning their necks for a better look.
“Cedar, good wood,” a pony named Stump said while he loped beside the cart. “Good wood, smells good, good smelling wood that is good.”
Near the entrance, Rocky Ridge was casually punching away at the stone, smashing away chunks the size of a pony’s head. From the looks of things, she was working on a new terraced section for farming, and Floodgate was already hard at work on a water channel. Another pony named Acorn was plumbing out straight lines with a weight on the end of a string, and making marks to guide Rocky Ridge’s efforts.
Busy earth ponies were happy earth ponies, from the looks of things.
“Milord, you’ve returned.” Cucumber was almost breathless as he approached and he paused for a moment to suck wind. Each raspy breath seemed a bit more laboured than the last and he wheezed as his sides heaved. He did recover though, and after a brief rest, he seemed his usual self again. “Fallow Fields and Grimer Patch got it into their heads that they wanted rice, so they did. We’re carving out a basin that we can flood, so that rice can be grown.”
“Good.” Sundance came to a halt. “Rice sounds excellent. Cucumber, I have… uh, stuff that needs to be passed out. Fresh blankets, sleeping mats, there’s candy, all kinds of stuff. See if you can scare up a few volunteers to see that everything gets distributed.”
“Stuff, Sire?” Cucumber’s head almost tilted completely sideways and he stared at Sundance—almost unblinking—with both rheumy eyes. “Am I to understand that Milord bought us… stuff?”
“This again?” Sundance snorted. “I said I was going to do it.”
“And you’re just giving it to us? We don’t have to work for it?”
“Cucumber, looking around me, I can see a lot of ponies working. I think that you’ve already worked for it.”
The old retainer shook his head. “We’re supposed to work. That’s our lot in life.”
“And I’m supposed to provide, that’s my lot in life.” Shimmying in his harness, Sundance began unhitching himself.
“Well, yes, Milord, that is the agreement, but nopony really expects you to keep your end of the bargain, so they don’t.” Cucumber’s head leveled out, his lower lip quivered, and his limp ears did their best to rise to the occasion. “Nopony expected you to bring Earwax back, so they didn’t. Forgive me, Sire… but this… treatment… this kindness… why, it’s unexpected, so it is, and I think it might take some getting used to.”
“No time for that, Cucumber. Daylight is a burnin’. I want the blankets and bedding sorted out before nightfall. See that everypony has a blanket and a pad. There’s food that needs to be put into dry storage, and perishables that I want put into the dining hall right away so they can be had with tonight’s meal. I picked up cookies and donuts—”
“Cookies?” The squeaky voice of Lemongrass could be heard.
“Yes,” Sundance replied. “Cookies, donuts, and muffins. I got the muffins because I figured not every pony likes sweets and muffins are nice with tea.”
Free of his harness, Sundance allowed his cart to come to rest against the ground. He sat down in the grass, there wasn’t another place to sit, really, and the two foals sat down beside him. Their mother was a short distance away, from the looks of it she was chatting with Earwax, and Sundance was pleased to see his instructions being followed.
“Can we help?” Amber Dawn asked.
“Sure.” Reaching out, Sundance booped her on the nose, which made her giggle. “It’ll be your job to make sure that nopony does without. You can follow Cucumber around and pay attention to what he does. Listen to everything he says. Talk to ponies and spread good cheer.”
“Okay.” The little grey filly nodded, thoughtful, and then she glanced at her brother. “Don’t mess this up.”
Scowling, the smaller colt glared up at his big sister, but said nothing.
Sundance allowed himself a bit of time to rest and looking up at his retainer, he said, “It feels good to be home…”