//------------------------------// // How to train your baron // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// During his incredibly short stint as a baron, Sundance had never seen anything quite like this. His peasants—his ponies—had all gathered together in a tight, solemn huddle and now watched Paradox Sunflower. There was something on each and every one of their faces—pain, perhaps. Maybe sorrow, or some manner of longsuffering. It was hard to say what it was, but the drooping ears and the weighted gazes were a sure sign of something. The wind whistled and whipped the top of the waterfall into a froth. It was Earwig who stepped forward and said, “You look like your mother.” Paradox went still, she froze in place and said nothing while holding her cat carrier in front of her like a shield. Sundance eyed the crowd, trying to read each face, each sad pair of eyes, the fine print in each wrinkle on every forehead. He could feel the weight of the moment bearing down upon him, and he feared he might be crushed by the sheer oppression of it. “Your mother was a great beauty,” Earwig continued whilst advancing a few steps. “She was a ray of sunshine, your mother. Her beauty… there was nothing else like it. We’re all dull and drab, but your mother was a real spot of colour.” “Look what it got her,” Paradox said, murmuring the words. “She was our joy… our happiness. When she sang, her voice echoed through this canyon. Her songs were so uplifting—” “I only ever knew sad songs,” Paradox blurted out, and as she spoke her voice cracked several times. “Haunting songs that filled me with dread.” Earwig continued her advance, her head now raised, and her ears held high. “You look so much like her. So beautiful. So striking. Can you sing?” “I don’t want to be beautiful!” Paradox shrieked. “I don’t sing! I don’t do anything that calls attention to myself! Stay back! Stay away from me! I don’t like being touched! Coming here was a mistake! I can’t believe I let Princess Celestia talk me into this!” Sundance tried to reassure the distressed young mare. “Paradox—” “No! It’s not okay! Don’t try to tell me it is! And don’t touch me! All of you, stop staring at me!” Sad wickers. Soft whinnies. Sundance’s ears pricked at each sound, but he never took his eyes from Paradox. He remembered well what Princess Celestia had said to him, about how she was trusting him with Paradox’s care and well-being. This… this was unfamiliar territory for him. Paradox’s homecoming revealed yet another rotten aspect of the barony, a wound that would need to be lanced open and left to bleed if it were to be healed. Corduroy, who held Paradox’s trunk, grunted, perhaps as a reminder that she was standing still, unmoving, whilst she held something heavy. Turmeric shuffled on his hooves and for a moment, it seemed as though he would say something, but the words never manifested. Sundance concluded that if this mess were to be sorted out, he would have to be the one to do it. “Coming here was a mistake—” “Paradox—” “What?” the young mare snapped while she stomped her hoof. “Don’t touch me!” The only thing he could grasp for seemed to be straws. Could this moment be salvaged? The guards and the chariot were already gone. If Paradox wanted to go home, it would be quite difficult, because at the moment, he was grounded. Which, he realised, may have been Princess Celestia’s intentions with having this happen now. He thought about what she said about testing his mettle and burning away his dross. “You said this was your Twilight Sparkle moment,” he said to her in the softest, kindest, most non-threatening voice he could muster. “So what if I did?” Paradox replied while her face twitched with temper. “How different things might have been, if Twilight Sparkle had ran away from Nightmare Moon—” “That’s not the same thing at all!” she cried while she shook her head. “It’s not.” These words came out as a near-whine. “How dare you use my own comparisons against me. That’s not fair! Now I feel stuck! Stuck! And I don’t like it.” Sundance thought about apologising, but didn’t. “I don’t want this to be my Nightmare Moon.” Paradox whimpered these words while she continued to shake her head from side to side. “How did I get talked into this? Coming here? I didn’t want to… I told her I didn’t want to come… but here I am. How does she talk ponies into doing things they don’t want to do? And now, you’re doing it. Just like her.” Sundance felt his feathers ruffle. Perhaps this ran in the family. He felt incredibly guilty, but didn’t allow himself to feel emotional right now, because he suspected that doing so would be detrimental. He was manipulating Paradox, and he knew it. He didn’t like it, but at the moment it felt more than necessary. Did his great grandmother ever feel this way when dealing with ponies? Was this the burden of rule? This sort of sucked and he didn’t like it. No, he didn’t like it at all and resolved right then and there to only resort to doing this when absolutely necessary. Every single one of his subjects were staring at poor Paradox, who stood squirming and twitching. She was in a bad spot, at the moment, and having all those eyes on her had to be intensely uncomfortable. What he had was a situation that needed to be handled somehow—he had to be the Baron, a wise, gentle baron, the sort of baron that would not mess this up and bring Princess Celestia’s wrath down upon his head. “I would never deny you access to the dining hall,” Sundance said to the crowd. “But I do ask that you give Paradox plenty of space and some quiet so she can sort things out. Perhaps sharing a meal together will make things better.” Then, he turned to Paradox. “Come on. Let’s get you inside. You can let your cat out. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Paradox’s lips pressed tight together for a moment, and then, rather reluctantly, she nodded. “I’m sorry…” “It’s okay,” he replied. “Now, come with me. I’ll give you plenty of space. As for you lot”—he cast his gaze upon his subjects—“go about your business. Get indoors. Get out of the storm when it comes. Or join us in the dining hall. Just remember… don’t stare, and give Paradox the time she needs to get sorted out. That is all.” Paradox Sunflower sat by herself in the corner, talking to her weird cat. The cat, like Paradox, had a patchy pelt with bald spots. Also, the cat appeared to be ancient—impossibly old. It was well beyond wizened and with a bit of imagination could be described as ‘zombie-like.’ Sundance kept an eye on her without staring directly at her. “That was some mighty good baroning,” Turmeric remarked. Sundance, lost in thought, did not respond. The dining hall was somewhat crowded, but only on one side, in one far corner, the one furthest from Paradox. Earwig sat with a group of oldtimers, discussing something amongst themselves that Sundance could not make out. Earwax was probably with Hollyhock, which meant one less thing to worry about. Wind blew in through the shutters that covered the windows and Sundance wished that they had glass. A massive roaring fire blazed in the clay and stone hearth, but it did little to warm the hall. It was a quiet time, almost too quiet, with no laughter. Outside, the weather had grown worse, but it was not yet raining. The spring squall promised to be a real doozy though. His back ached something awful, and parts of his wound were alight with a fierce burn. “Corduroy…” Sundance kept as voice as low as possible. “Yeah?” The big diamond dog hunched over. “Can you help her?” he asked, his voice still low. “That would depend,” she replied whilst she leaned in a little closer. “Explain.” “Well, the primary factor at work here is, does she want to be helped?” Sundance grimaced. “Sometimes a patient doesn’t want the infection lanced.” “Different metaphors apply here,” Corduroy said to Sundance as her ears fell back against her skull. “I can patch up physical hurts. Not sure how to go about doing what it is you’re wanting me to do.” “There is a little crystal tree outside,” Sundance said to his trusted nurse, “and I suspect that the next stage of growth depends on Paradox. Call it a hunch. Intuition. Princess Celestia doesn’t strike me as the frivolous sort, so if she sent Paradox here… talked poor Paradox into coming here perhaps against her will, then there was good reason. I’m betting that Princess Celestia knows something that we don’t. So we need to trust that this situation was set up for our advantage.” “That’s some mighty fine baroning,” Turmeric said, echoing his previous statement. “I pay the barony’s debts.” Sundance’s ears splayed out and formed a flat line with the top of his head. “Not all of them are financial. I need to make this right somehow. The previous Milord”—the sudden bad taste in Sundance’s mouth gave him pause—“was a right bastard. A lot of lives were ruined. So it falls on me to make this right.” “So… is this like… a friendship challenge?” Turmeric asked. This made Sundance pause and consider. How would Princess Twilight Sparkle go about this? Or Princess Cadance for that matter? Princess Celestia would foist this task off on others, for the sake of their own self improvement—but the unpleasant task would reap a fine reward. Princess Luna would sort this out through dreams. Prince Gosling would give a rousing sermon about finding common ground and shared perspective. But what would Baron Sundance do? “I have to earn her trust somehow,” Sundance whispered to his co-conspirators. “Easier said than done.” “Say, Corduroy, do you trust me?” The diamond dog let out a grunty growl, then replied, “I only trust those I can pick up. If you violate my trust, I can throw you a long, long ways. It’s reassuring. That’s the secret to my genial nature.” “Must be nice,” Sundance remarked. “So is that also the secret to your confidence?” “More or less. It comes with being a giant in a world full of tiny, throwable things.” Turmeric too, leaned in and joined the huddle. “I understand this is important, but I’m having a hard time understanding why. What is to be gained here? What is the point? What is to be accomplished? I’m new to this benevolent rule thing.” “Sundance has to be a better ruler,” Corduroy said in response to Turmeric. “Sympathy is a big part of that. Helping those in your care. It’s not so different than being a nurse, really. When you think about it. Paradox is an obstinate patient and Sundance has to somehow make a diagnosis with a patient who doesn’t want to talk. That’s tough. A nurse finds a way, though. And so will Sundance.” “I’m sitting right here between the two of you, you know.” Reaching out her paw, Corduroy gave Sundance a pat on his head, which made him roll his eyes. When she pulled her paw away, his ears rose and he cast a sidelong glance at Turmeric, who seemed to be looking right through Sundance. His expression was almost worshipful and for just a brief moment, Sundance felt a pang of what might have been jealousy. It was quickly dismissed though and he gave his headspace a swift sorting out. Off in her corner, Paradox poured kitty kibble into a small, pink ceramic bowl adorned with tiny blue fishes. Kitty kibble would be a problem; there was no corner bodega, no grocery store, no local pet store to replenish the supply. He hoped that Paradox had brought enough to last, at least until he was flying again. It was one more thing to add to the barony’s growing list of supply needs. Distant thunder rumbled and Sundance felt the fine hairs along his neck rise. “Corduroy, there is something you must do.” “What’s that?” “Teach me how to nurse.” “Say again?” “Everything you said just a moment ago. All of that about diagnosing a patient. Teach me how to nurse. That’s your job now.” Sundance looked up at his nurse and narrowed his eyes with the hopes that he could convey the unspoken parts of his message. “Uh… alright.” Corduroy looked away whilst folding her front paws together. “I would never throw you, you know. I’m a pacifist. Might be for the best to clear the air after that joke. Everything feels too serious right now. A bit too real.” “Wish me luck,” Sundance said to his companions. “What? Why? What for?” asked Turmeric. “I’m going to go have a talk with Paradox. Now, excuse me. Away I go, luckless.”