//------------------------------// // The Sunflower sprouts // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Corduroy was not at all what Sundance was expecting. Terrified, panicked, surprised, caught off guard, he was all of these things and more. Diamond dogs were poachers and they hid behind trees. Slavers. Raiders. Bandits. His mother had said much about diamond dogs, and none of it, not one word of it had been nice. Yet, here one stood before him in Canterlot and this presented him with a conflicting, curious conundrum, one of intricate complexity. His mother was wrong or the fine, genteel nobles of Canterlot allowed ruffians in their midst. If this dog was the sort of creature his mother said it was, it would not be welcomed in civilised, cosmopolitan Canterlot. She wasn’t as big as the diamond dogs he had seen in the movies, who had all been scary, hulking brutes of the worst sort, savages who could barely speak a civilised word. In the middle of all of his confusion, he concluded that movies might have lied to him just a bit, perhaps intentionally trying to make him see the worst about diamond dogs to tamper with his perceptions. There was a lot to take in and whole seconds passed. “Corduroy, it is so nice to see you again. Are you well?” Fleur crossed the room, moving with a purposeful, but graceful gait. “Dearest, this is Baron Sundance, of the Sunfire Barony.” Upon reaching the diamond dog who stood just within the doorway, she paused. “You’re stressed, Corduroy. Another rejection? I’m so sorry. Please, come sit down.” The diamond dog was rather narrow-shouldered for its kind, and its arms started off somewhat slender near the shoulder, but broadened considerably near the paws. Her arms were long, very much so, and her massive paws hung near her knees. She was bone white, had a pink-purple nose, one pink eye, and one blue eye. A grey-green woollen smock covered in pockets covered most of her body and a scrap patchwork beanie sat atop her head. Her ears, two perky triangles, pricked out on either side of her beanie. Sundance, determined to be the pony that Fleur believed him to be, struggled to contain his fear. He was sweating a bit, fidgety, and he was almost certain that he could hear his mother’s voice on the fringes of his perception. Corduroy brought with her a medicinal smell and it made Sundance want to sneeze. So, sneeze he did. “Sol Celestia preserve you,” Fleur said to Sundance, with one fine eyebrow raised in concern. Was this his best impression? Poor Corduroy, was she thinking and feeling the same way? Worried about her first impression? Sundance was almost shaking with terror and fear, which he knew would be his undoing if left unchecked. He was slaloming the smokestacks at the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen again, doing so at impossible breakneck speed, with a faceful of epic stink. Going in almost blind and relying on whatever mystical senses pegasus ponies had. Almost at the point of hyperventilation, he found his calm and recovered. “Sundance, dearest, are you well? You appear a bit peaked. We could have Corduroy look at you. Is it too warm? Shall I open a window? You pegasus ponies have trouble with the heat sometimes, some of you. Those wings. Too much insulation.” Craning her head, Fleur looked up at her diamond dog friend and gave her an imploring look. “We’re both nervous,” Corduroy said, her words scratchy and rather subdued. “He’s scared of me and as for myself, I’m having something of a bad day.” “Dearest darling, what happened?” Fleur asked, forgetting all about Sundance. “I had a job… and lost it.” Corduroy looked dejected in the way that only dogs could. “Really?” Fleur, aghast, shook her head. “What happened?” “The hospital hired me with your reference,” the dejected dog replied, shaking her head. “There were multiple patient complaints about how intimidating I was. I was let go my first day on the job.” “That’s—” Whatever it was she was about to say failed to make it past Fleur’s lips. The hurt and pain that could be seen in her eyes was almost infectious and Corduroy reached down with her paw to console her distressed friend. Sundance began to feel a curious sense of shame that he was unfamiliar with. He didn’t like how it made his innards churn in the most unpleasant way. Suffering, he watched as Corduroy stroked and patted poor Fleur, who had taken this in the worst possible way. This was something one never saw in the movies, a kind, compassionate diamond dog trying to comfort a small, helpless pony. Anger joined his newfound sense of unfamiliar shame and then other emotions arrived as well, no doubt deciding it was time for a social mixer of some kind. Somepony needed to do something about this… this… well, whatever this was. The problem, the issue, it was so large that Sundance—not the smartest pony by far—could barely comprehend it. Had he said anything yet? Unable to recall, he began to succumb to his distress. Had he been standing here, silent, for all of this time? Surely he had something by now, but try as he might, he could not remember what it was. What a wonderful impression he must be making right now at this moment. “I’m sorry you lost your job,” he blurted out, perhaps a bit louder than he intended. “It was necessary, for the good health of the patients.” Corduroy lifted her paw away from Fleur’s slender neck and then gently nudged the distraught mare towards the oval table in the middle of the room, shepherding her along with careful pushes. “That’s a load of corn-flecked horseapples.” Too late, Sundance realised that he had said something offensive. Taking stock of the situation, he saw that Fleur was mortified on top of everything else, and Corduroy was giving him a peculiar look. He didn’t feel very noble right now, not at all, not even the teensiest, tiniest bit. “It’s a good thing I brought smelling salts, Baron Bedpan Mouth.” With a deft, quick movement, Corduroy swept Fleur up from the floor and holding her with great care, carried her over to a threadbare cushion, where she put the distressed mare down. How had he messed this up so badly? Corduroy didn’t talk like the diamond dogs in the movies either, with broken phrases of Equestrian. She was eloquent—more so than he was—and upon reaching this conclusion, he began to feel self-conscious. At the moment, he had all manner of insights, thoughts, his brain was a whirlwind of concepts that he had no hopes of ever putting into words. Fleur, even in her shaken state, was the one who salvaged the situation by saying, “Typically, an employer interviews the employee. That is how these things are done. A series of questions and answers so that the employer might learn the potential of their prospective employee’s.” Was he actually going to do this? What if his mother visited again? Unannounced. What might his peasants think? How could he convince them to accept his decision? Well, he could find a hot poker—no, no, no! He cut off this line of internal dialogue and shuddered. There had to be a way to do the right thing and reach a solution where all involved were happy. Enough wrong had been done. “So, uh, tell me about yourself. Why did you become a nurse? What made you become a nurse? What are your qualifications?” He’d never been at this end of an interview and had no idea what he was doing. Fleur heaved a sigh of relief that was far too large for her small, delicate frame. “If you don’t mind me asking, how does a diamond dog become a nurse anyhow?” “By following Doctor Hedge around and asking him a million questions,” she replied. “If it helps you to understand me, I can start at the beginning.” “Oh, I think that would be for the best.” Fleur recovered enough to give Sundance a meaningful stare. “Corduroy did not grow up in the typical manner of diamond dogs. Not that all of them are bad, mind you!” Distressed now, she fell silent while her eyes darted to and fro. “I was rescued by an adventurer. Mister Teapot. He’s never told me the full details of everything that’s happened, only that he found me, abandoned. I suspect there are more details.” Corduroy folded her paws into her lap in a sort of prim and proper way. “I was brought to Buttons, who became my mother. Eventually, we were joined by other diamond dogs and Rock Haven became our haven.” Smiling, Corduroy revealed terrific teeth. “If Buttons was my mother, Doctor Hedge was my father. He’s a unicorn. A doctor. I followed him around everywhere he went, because he was the best pony ever. From the earliest age, I started learning medicine from him. He taught me to read and over time, I became his assistant. One day, I impressed him by cultivating my own penicillin. After that, my lessons became far more demanding. He was hard on me. I spent the whole of my young life trying to learn all that he had to teach me.” Paws fidgeting, she continued, “I learned alchemy too, mostly from Minori, another diamond dog. And when Mister Teapot came home and was in town, I learned everything I possibly could from him, like magic stitching and anything he might have picked up in his travels. Mister Teapot was always asking the important questions in life, such as, ‘Who’s a good dog?’ It was me, I was determined to be the best dog. Which is why I became a nurse. So now, when it is asked, ‘Who is a good dog?’ I can confidently reply with all assurance that I am, in fact, the best dog I am capable of being. I have no fear of the Black Hound.” After hearing what she had to say, Sundance ended up in an odd place. “I have a question, but I’m afraid it will be taken the wrong way.” “Ask.” Corduroy’s claws clicked together as she wrung her paws. “It sounded as though you had a place where you fit in. A place where you belonged. Where you were accepted. Why leave it? Why come to Canterlot and face rejection? I don’t understand.” “Success meant nothing there,” she said and there was a fretful waver to her voice. “I could have lived out my entire life there. Everything would have been happy. Easy. And I wouldn’t have had to work for anything. So my work, my passion, would have no meaning. Without struggle, there is no improvement. Mister Teapot told me this. So did Doctor Hedge. Minori, too, before she died. So when I was old enough, I left home. For me to be the best dog, I have to be an example for other good dogs.” This struck Sundance with all of the subtle force of a falling anvil. He too, had left home, and now, he struggled. Did this make him a better pony? He could have had an easy life, but for whatever reason, he had chosen to inherit a barony saddled with debt. A horrible, wretched place to live, made worse by the sulphurous musk that permeated everything. “I came to Canterlot, took a competency test, and was added to the national registry as a somewhat above exceptional nurse.” Corduroy’s eyes darkened a bit, and her triangular ears waggled hard enough to jostle her beanie. “The standards need more work, but that will come with time, as society advances. There’s a lot of nurses that aren’t nurses. Having a mark doesn’t give you schooling or knowledge. But I get shut out of jobs because I don’t have a mark, and you ponies don’t trust that. Or me. I’m a better qualified nurse than some pony with no schooling who has a mark that somehow makes them a nurse. It is frustrating and hurtful how I keep getting rejected.” “Change is slow and takes time,” Fleur said as she reached over and patted the now distraught dog on her forearm. “You’re working to make those changes happen, dearest. What we need” —here, she turned her gaze on Sundance and gave him a soul-piercing stare— “is a brave, courageous noble willing to do the right thing. It falls upon the nobles to make these important changes that our great society needs. In doing so, others will follow their example. But some brave soul must go first.” The first hint of pressure could be felt. A bit sweaty, Sundance tried to keep his wings still while his thoughts threatened to run away from him. If he brought home a diamond dog, his peasants might revolt. They might be very upset with him. Unless, of course, he tricked them. Thinking of Earwig, he began to think devious thoughts—tricky, devious thoughts. As awful as it was, he could use his peasants own attitudes against them. Their own simple beliefs could be turned upon them. Reaching up with his hoof, he began to absentmindedly stroke his jaw. “I know a lot about ponies,” Corduroy said to Sundance while he sat thinking. “Growing up in Rock Haven, I learned a lot about livestock too. Cows, goats, chickens, Doctor Hedge patched up everything he could and—” “Why haven’t you become a doctor?” Sundance asked, interrupting. “I thought about it,” she was quick to reply. “Acceptance. I can’t even get a job as a nurse. I’ve applied to medical school and was rejected. Maybe because I’d be too jarring on my patients. I don’t know. Fleur and Fancy Pants even tried to help me after I came to Canterlot. I’ve thought about enlisting, but that’s really not the route I want to go. The world needs to know that we diamond dogs are more than brutes and soldiers.” Extending his left wing, Sundance reached up and scratched just behind his right ear with his central joint. Fleur was staring at him in a way that made him want to squirm. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t anything that he could do about it. This was his life now, making big decisions. He’d come to Canterlot looking for a midwife and he’d been wrangled into this complicated tangle. There were worse fates though. Princess Celestia had put him into this position for a reason. What would Princess Celestia do about this? She would do what was right. But what was right? What made right? With so many choices and ways to advance society, what was good and right? Sundance found himself wishing he had gone to college, because this was too much to think about. At the moment, he felt woefully stupid. He didn’t have a fine grasp of the social issues. If anything, he had a handicap, because he’d spent so much of his life as something of an outcast. He’d only just started to figure himself out after he had come to Canterlot. He stopped rubbing his jaw when he thought about the fact that Corduroy had come to Canterlot as well. They shared something in common, the two of them. He was a small winged pony and she was a large canine creature. But the both of them came to Canterlot. He’d only recently awakened to his potential and his sense of self. Fleur was still staring; he could feel her eyes upon him. “Do you have other skills besides nursing? Anything that might help an impoverished community?” Ignoring Fleur, Sundance focused on Corduroy. “I’m an accomplished glassblower. I had to learn how because I needed glassware for my alchemical experiments. I figured out the secrets of alchemist’s glass on my own, the really good stuff that doesn’t shatter so easily. Soap. You need soap? I can make soap. Medicinal soaps, even.” “I have a mare back at the barony that is going to foal sooner rather than later. Something is off with her urine. She might be sick. How would you go about making her better again?” This seemed like a proper interview question, but Sundance had no way of knowing. He’d already made his decision, he realised. So what was he doing now? Reinforcing his reasons, perhaps? “My nose is good for finding sickness in urine,” Corduroy replied, now completely calm. “You ponies can’t smell anything other than ‘bad’ or ‘off.’ Your noses are weak. I would give her a thorough examination, test her urine, and administer an antibiotic, if the situation demanded it. As for foaling, that’s easy. I’ve delivered many foals. And calves. Kids too.” “Speaking of bad smells… as you are no doubt aware, my barony stinks. There’s no nice way of saying it.” She smiled, revealing her teeth again, and Corduroy made a dismissive wave with her paw. “You smell delightful. It’s mouth-wateringly good.” Alas, poor Sundance had never considered that another creature might find this aroma appealing. Without thinking about it, he sniffed. She wasn’t lying, near as he could tell. The idea that she might enjoy living there, that she might like how it smelled, this gave him pause. There was still the matter of how his peasants might react, but he already had ideas about that. The interview arrived at a dreadful point, the one that worried him the most. “Uh, about compensation.” “What about it?” she asked. “There’s not much money,” he said, fearing her reaction. “But there is experience,” she replied while her claws clicked and clacked together. “And potentially, acceptance. There is your good standing, which will ultimately impact my own good standing. If you are seen as a just and noble lord, and I am in your service, there is prestige to be found in that. I can make medicines and glassware and other goods that will improve the barony’s fortunes.” This wasn’t what he was expecting, not at all. “You guarantee me the resources I need to make goods and I can run a profitable business that will fund my practice.” Corduroy blinked a few times, thoughtful, and her pointy triangular ears pivoted forwards. “I don’t mind a shared struggle. There is meaning in that. If you help me succeed, I’ll help you succeed. This should be the way of things.” Saying nothing, Sundance considered this. “Working in a hospital or a clinic for lousy pay and always worrying about if I’ll keep my job was the life I was willing to accept.” Corduroy reached out, placed her paw upon Fleur’s neck, and smoothed out a few stray strands of the mare’s mane. “With you, I have the potential for something better. Money and pay is a triviality. I am confident that things will sort themselves out in time. With you, I’ll have much better prospects in the long term. So long as my basic needs are met, and I have access to resources, I am content to do what must be done. Give me job security and I’ll give you loyalty. Good dogs are loyal.” The decision had already been made. Quite some time ago in the conversation. Sundance, having examined his reasons, felt that he was doing the right thing. Sure, he was desperate, but that was not his sole motivation. There was a chance for betterment here, to do good. To reward another’s hard work. The idea of a shared struggle appealed to him. Corduroy’s cause was just, and so was his own. This would also allow him to get into Fleur’s good graces, which he knew was important. She and Fancy Pants were his mentors, good ponies who wanted the best for him. His choice, his decision would impact two lives profoundly, and probably others in ways he could not imagine. This would also make his mother furious, and he was prepared for a lecture, should it come. If it happened, he would let the storm blow itself out, and then he would give his mother his reasons. If she couldn’t accept what he had done, well, she’d just have to scratch her mad spot and get over it. Taking a deep breath, Sundance prepared to give Corduroy his answer.