//------------------------------//
// To put down one's hoof 
// Story: House of the Rising Sunflower 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

All of Ponyville became a miniature set-piece and Sundance felt his passenger’s reaction. After a bit of a chit-chat, she had been cleaned up a bit, had a few final encouraging words said to her by Bourgogne Blintz, and then her meagre possessions were loaded into Sundance’s saddlebags. He circled on rising summer currents, the slow, lazy kind that sort of made him want to take a nap. But now was not the time for napping, no. Now was the time to go home. 

Glancing down, he saw new construction. Whole new neighborhoods were being built. Some of the houses were just frames, skeletons of what one day would be. Ponyville had been around for a while—though Sundance did not know how long—and there was something about seeing it as it expanded that gave him hope. But he also had questions, or perhaps these questions could be considered thoughts. Yes, he had ideas, notions, curious inklings that scurried through the recesses of his mind. 

Below, he saw houses. Houses. Not tenements, or high-rises, or apartment stacks. There was still space to spread out. It wasn’t the insanity of high density residential zoning. At which point did a place like Ponyville become more like Baltimare? What was the threshold? The point of no return? As was so often the case, he thought of his own barony. How much growth would he see during his own lifetime? He felt a bit like a gardener who obsessed over his begonias… whatever begonias were. Mythical plants that he’d heard mentioned, but had never seen.

“It looks like home.” 

His wings went still so that he might hear better, and then he repeated his passenger’s words: “It looks like home?” 

“A little,” she replied, her talons clenched tight in his mane. “The land is green. I see farms.” 

“Does it make you feel better?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Well, good.” With the wind in his face, he banked, turned himself toward a north-easterly direction, and began to pump his wings so that he might start his journey home. “Hang on, we have a long trip ahead of us. I don’t plan to slow down. We'll be home soon, Gisela.” 



 

Sundance had barely even come to a stop when Gisela lept from his back and fluttered down to the ground. She landed in the tall grass beside the runway and was so small that she almost vanished. All manner of bugs were disturbed by her arrival, and fled the general area. As he folded his wings, Sundance watched her as she began to explore her surroundings. Was now the time to give her the speech about staying close to home and not wandering off? 

Probably not. 

“Another stray.” 

He did not turn to face Earwig, who approached through the gate, but rather, he watched as the cub pounced upon the fleeing bugs. The older mare drew up alongside him, he heard her sigh, and then the sounds of her pawing the ground reached his ears. Was something wrong? For whatever reason, might she be displeased? Though nothing was said, Sundance felt a faint niggle of worry wiggling in his innards. 

“Oh, she’s cute.” 

Worry turned to relief. 

“A bit owlish, that one. And lynx. We have those around here. Sometimes, we gotta scare them off. It’ll be good to have one protecting us. Well, when she gets bigger. Right now, she’s a bit small. You did bring her home to protect us, right?” 

“That’s for her to choose,” he replied to his trusted friend. 

“There you go again, doing that noble thing.” Earwig moved into Sundance’s vision, and she looked him in the eye. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but that seems to be some of the trouble between you and Hollyhock. I’ve spent some time talking to her and giving her a good sorting out—” 

“I didn’t want her messed with while I was gone. Wasn’t that made clear?” 

“Oh, there was no shouting. Corduroy and I, we just talked with her. Got her calm and sorted out a bit. Found it hard to hold my tongue, but I managed.” 

In the tall grass, Gisela captured a bug; a second later, it was poked into her beak. 

“Holly is a worried sort. She’s spent her whole life worrying, Milord. Not much of a thinker, that one—” 

“Earwig!” 

“No harm in being honest, Milord. She’s not a thinker and she don’t like thinking. Told me and Corduroy so herself. That mare, she worries when things happen. I think she wants somepony in charge so she don’t have to think, she only has to do. Now, you tend to take a hooves off approach, Milord, you do… and that leaves her a bit fretful. All of her life, bad things have happened to her. There’s… things that you don’t know about yet. You might need to step up a bit and act more in charge if you want to put her mind at ease. That’s what Corduroy says. Me, I’m not sure. I’m not smart like Corduroy.” 

The little griffon cub now sat on her haunches, her stubby tail tucked beneath her, and she had bugs kebabed on her front talons. A manic gleam could be seen in her eyes as she watched the wiggly skewered insects, and it occurred to Sundance that there was an openly predatory creature just in front of him that was about to have lunch, or a snack, as the case may be. 

“Are you about to eat those, tot?” asked Earwig. 

“Oui.” 

“We? Milord, did she just… did she just invite me to eat bugs with her?” 

“Don’t be rude, Earwig. If she offers, you should oblige her.” 

“Milord, surely you can’t be serious.” This was said as the cub poked a talon into her mouth and made a bug vanish, which caused Earwig to shudder. 

“Make her feel welcome, Earwig.” 

“Right… steady, old girl. You can do this. You’ve done worse. Alright, tot.” The stocky old mare trudged forward reluctantly, flicked her tail once, and then sat down in the tall grass beside the small cub. “I’m Earwig. I have a sister named Earwax. What’s your name?” 

“Gisela,” the cub replied. 

“Oh, that’s pretty. I can’t help but notice that you’re eating bugs, tot.” 

“Oui.” 

“Yeah. Us. We’re eating bugs. Just the two of us. Alright, tot. Let me have one.” 

As the cub extended her foreleg, Sundance covered his face with his wing because he could not bear to watch. 





“Corduroy, we have a lot to talk about.” After he paused in place, Sundance tilted his head back to peer up at his nurse. “I am in need of your intelligence, Corduroy. We’ll discuss this in detail later. Right now, I need to go clean up the mess with Hollyhock.” 

In response, the immaculately clean diamond dog nodded. Then, she spent a moment to adjust her beanie. Afterwards, she hunkered down to look Sundance in the eye, and she said to him, “Be careful with Hollyhock. Not sure what happened, but she’s been hurt in some way. Your little scuffle this morning has spooked her. I don’t think she was expecting for you to react the way you did. Sundance, I can only guess as to what might have happened, but it’s not hard to figure out. Be cautious if you want to make things better.” 

He gave these words careful consideration, nodded once, and then allowed himself to gaze into Corduroy’s eyes. One pink, one blue, both captivating in their own way. Eyes not at all like a pony, yet remarkably similar. She was his friend, and so much more. There were no words that he could think of to describe their relationship, and after the events of this morning, he very much wanted to show Corduroy the best possible version of himself, because she deserved that. Everypony—everybody—deserved that from him, including Hollyhock. 

After all, he was their Princess Celestia. 

“I wish that we’d met sooner, Corduroy,” he said to her, almost whispering. “If we’d met sooner, I might be a better pony. Some of my preconceived notions might’ve been damaged sooner and I might’ve broke out of my mold.” 

“You go off and meet with the Princess of Friendship, then come back all weird.” Almost smiling, she held out her paw. “And you brought back a fuzzball. You know, some friends pick up chocolates while they’re out.” 

“That’s Gisela. Check her in, weigh her, do all that stuff you do. Oh, and you might want to tell Earwig that she won’t die from eating bugs. As much as I want to talk, there’s something I must do.” 

“You said that you were sorry that I lost my job,” she said to him with ears pricked at attention. “At the time, you were terrified of me. I could smell your fear. But you meant what you said… and then you became angry about my plight, as evidenced by the foul sewage that poured from your potty mouth. Poor Fleur almost fainted. Go sort things out with Hollyhock. She’s in the bunkhouse. Good luck.” 

“Thanks… I needed that. All of that.” With a turn of his head, he faced the bunkhouse. 

“Hello, Gisela, I am Nurse Corduroy. Come over here and let me have a look at you…” 



 

As he approached the door, Sundance halted. For a time, he just stood there, and then the jitters overtook him. The idea of confronting Hollyhock was daunting, and now, just as he was about to go and make things right, he was overcome by anxiety. Which was, perhaps, the problem. He didn’t like confrontation. Or being in charge, for that matter. Hollyhock was right. He took a hooves off approach and just allowed things to happen. Which clearly didn’t work for Hollyhock; she needed a ruler that actually ruled. 

So it fell upon his withers to provide that for her. 

It was his responsibility to provide. 

Was this how things went wrong in the past? Some lord, fed up with the behaviour of his peasants, stopped caring? Stopped providing? A shallow breath almost caught in his throat. Parents could get that way as well, he supposed. How exactly did Princess Celestia keep the fire going? What was it that she did to keep the fires going? As old as she was, for all of the seasons she had seen and borne witness to, how did she manage to keep herself invested in the lives of so many? How could he do the same? Princess Celestia’s care for others was sincere and genuine. Which meant that he could do no less. 

With Twilight’s project, he would be expected to do even more. 

“I can do this,” he muttered to himself. 

Could he? That remained to be seen. The events of the morning left his ears burning with shame and his cheek muscles cramped when he thought about what he’d done. The mess was made. It was now his job to clean it up, for such were the responsibilities of rule. Eyelids suddenly heavy, he stared down at the door latch and thought about all the little faces that would be sure to watch him once he entered. This of course did not help, and extended his moment of hesitation. 

He was sweating now, and there was a distinct heaviness in his guts that he knew didn’t come from lunch. This was almost as bad as knowing there was a test in school. When he opened the door, he would be committed to this course of action; he would have to see it through and there would be no backing out. Once more, he reminded himself that it was his job to help Hollyhock—which meant putting his own feelings aside. 

The little ones were depending upon him to do right and make right… 



 

Cool air struck Sundance’s hot ears and offered some small relief. The inside of the bunkhouse was blessedly cool compared to the scorching heat of summer found outside. He stood at the top of the landing, but did not go down the gently-sloped ramp to his left. Hollyhock rose into a standing position, but nothing was said. Some of the little ones stood up as well, but not a word was spoken. Tension turned the colour crayon-scented air electric. An open book lay upon the floor, along with sheets of paper, some crayons, pencils, and an entire alphabet of wooden blocks. 

With slow, measured steps, he descended the ramp, and his hooves made muffled clip-clops against the textured concrete. Much to his surprise, Bonk held the infant—which surely had to mean that Hollyhock trusted the pup. There were a few toys scattered about, a paltry amount, and Sundance felt that there should be more. Yes, there should be more toys, and it was up to him to do something about that. Perhaps later, when this was all over. 

When he reached the bottom of the ramp, he spotted Earwax, who lay in a bunk with little Tarantula. There was a blissful expression on the colt’s face, but also worry. All of which was mirrored on Earwax’s face. When he turned to look at Hollyhock, she averted her eyes and cast her gaze upon the floor. This made him feel worse; he thought of how others averted their gaze around Princess Celestia. Such behaviour was unwanted, yet here he was. He had to face his own mess. 

Nothing good could come of this much silence. 

“I’m sorry.” Hollyhock almost breathed the words, which were difficult to hear. 

“I am too,” he said to her in a somewhat louder though still muted tone of voice. 

“But”—she blinked, shook her head, and her teeth clicked together—“you’re in charge. Why are you sorry?” 

As much as he wanted to, Sundance did not have an answer. On his way home, he’d rehearsed this in his head. Over and over. Different variations with all of the outcomes he imagined. But he hadn’t rehearsed for this, and so he had no idea of how to respond. Hollyhock was terrified, and he knew why. Already, this showed signs of blowing up in his face, and he wondered if, perhaps, he should sleep on this before he tried to make it right. 

“I was clearly in the wrong,” he said, uncertain if he took the right course of action. “You have issues with how I do things. These issues caused our blowout. Tell me, Hollyhock, what I can do better so that we might avoid trouble in the future.” 

“You want me to tell you how to do your job?” Her tone? Incredulous. Her eyes? Wide with surprise. 

“Yes. Please. If I don’t know what your needs are, then I can’t serve you.” As he spoke, he watched as she bit her lip and began to chew. No doubt, she’d been rehearsing as well, imagining how the conversation went, and she clearly did not expect this. For Sundance, this was something of a profound revelation about expectations. He would have to think upon this later and see what he might learn from it. 

“Uh”—she inhaled, her sides expanded greatly, and some of the fear in her eyes turned to anxiousness—“I had so much to say earlier when I ran my mouth.” 

He offered his agreement: “Indeed, you did.” 

Following this remark, her eyes narrowed, her ears angled forwards, and her mouth became a thin, tight, straight line. She looked at him, he at her, and silence threatened to consume the moment as both of them studied one another. This wasn’t school; he didn’t have the luxury of running away and pretending that none of this had happened. An entire future—several futures—all hinged upon this moment. 

It was far more nerve-wracking than any school exam. 

“You’re too passive,” she said, and mid-sentence her voice cracked—though from fear or anxiousness was unknown. “You’re passive and you don’t actually do much of anything. Stuff happens and you… you just let it happen. When stuff happens, you let others step up to do what should be your job. I get so nervous. Half the time, I don’t know who is running the show, if it is Earwig or Corduroy or Paradox. I stay so uncertain. I lie awake at night and worry that something really bad will happen and you’ll be wishy-washy. And then I think about all of the bad things that might happen because of that.” 

He held his tongue; now was not a good time to speak. 

“My mother was wishy-washy… stuff happened. A lot of stuff happened. Bad stuff. And she was too passive to do anything about it.” Eyes closed, Hollyhock turned her head away from Sundance. A powerful shudder started at her dock, travelled up her spine, and caused her teeth to clatter when it reached her head. “If I were in charge, I’d lay down the law. Things would be done. There would be order. I don’t like this whole ‘who’s in charge at the moment’ thing that’s the day-to-day way of things around here.” 

“So you want me to be decisive…” 

She opened her eyes, but squinted, and nodded. 

“You want me to lay down the law…” 

“A sense of order is important,” she murmured. 

“You want me to get stuff done. Me. I should be in charge and see things through.” 

“Yeah, it might be reassuring,” she said as she stood there and blinked. 

“I should be commanding and lord over Corduroy, Paradox, and Earwig.” 

“Maybe just a little. Just enough to, you know, send a message.” 

“So you want me to put my hoof down…” 

“It would make you less wishy-washy.” 

Sundance inhaled, his cheeks puffed out, and he could not help but wonder what Earwax might be thinking right now. And the little ones, for that matter. What lesson might they be taught from this? His spine felt too tight, his skin too taut, and his guts cramped from anxious tension. The way forward was clear now, and while he hesitated to do it, he knew what needed to be done. 

He had to give Hollyhock exactly what she wanted; it was for her own good. 

“So then… am I to put my hoof down… upon your neck?” 

There was a gasp from Hollyhock. 

“You keep subverting my authority. Tell me, what sort of awful things do you say about me? You bad-mouth me behind my back. What do you say in front of these little ones? How might they grow up? What might they think? What manner of irreparable damage might be done to the future of the barony because you run your mouth?” 

Hollyhock squirmed and then turned her face away. 

“You want me to be decisive. Should I banish you? Cast you out so that you can pay for your crimes? Should I be hard, unfeeling, and merciless? Do you want to be separated from your foals? That’d send a clear message, wouldn’t it? That would certainly cement my rule as The Baron.” 

“I don’t want that,” she whined. 

“So you want me to do that to others… but not you. If you were in charge, you might do that to others, but you yourself, you want yourself held to a different standard. Am I wrong?” 

He waited, and waited, several long seconds passed, and she failed to answer. 

“Well, I’m not going to do that,” he said at last. “Let’s get one thing straight, Hollyhock. This is why I’m in charge, and not you. I hold myself to the same standard as everypony else. I’m not going to send you away, because I need you here. But I can’t let you wreck our future. For all of your faults, you’re a good mom. At least, you have the potential to be. But you have some issues to sort out.” 

Her eyes were squeezed shut now and her own face wrinkled from the effort. 

“Now… Hollyhock, we need to send a clear message to the little ones. Together. You’re their caretaker, and I am also their caretaker. And we want them confident in our authority. We don’t want them all nervous and anxious. They need to know that we’re in charge. We need to show them that we can work together to overcome our differences.” 

With a snort, Hollyhock’s eyes flew open, and went wide just as Sundance reached for her with outspread wings. Her head shook from side to side as she retreated, but he continued his advance with an expression of stern resolve upon his face. Hollyhock backed away until her hindquarters bumped into a bunk bed, and then there was nowhere else to go, no place left to retreat. Sundance, his stomach crawling, knew what he had to do, and hoped that he had the strength to see it through. It was awful, but it had to be done. His submissive nature begged and pleaded with him to stop, to cease this unseemly behaviour at once—but he knew that if he gave up now, it would be detrimental. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, almost in a state of panic. 

“Putting my hoof down,” he replied as he reached for her with his wings. 

“No… don’t do this,” she begged as she pressed herself against the bunk bed. 

“Sorry, but you brought this on yourself, Hollyhock.” 

“I liked you better when you were passive—” 

“You say that now...” 

“It’s not like you to make an example of another… it seems petty. What message are you sending to the little ones right now? Don’t do this!” 

“But you made it necessary,” he said to her as his wings began to encircle her broad neck. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to go, and so he drew her in. When she tried to wiggle away, he pressed himself against her, and overcame her halfhearted attempts to resist him. 

Then, much to his surprise, she went still. All of her efforts to resist ceased and he was able to pull her close. She even leaned against him, and pressed her head against his neck. With his wings wrapped tight around her, he allowed his head to come to rest atop hers, and he felt her ears quiver against his jaw. Oh, how she trembled, and he was all too aware of the fact that he did the same. 

“You are one of mine,” he said to her in a soft voice. “So long as I’m in charge, I will do everything within my power to ensure that no harm comes to you. But you have to let me do things my way. I’m pretty sure that we’ve just established that things would be a disaster if you were in charge.” 

“Yeah, probably.” She sighed out these words, inhaled, but no other words seemed forthcoming. “This is nice. Thank you. You smell like greasy fried onions.” 

He gave her a gentle squeeze, and then just allowed the moment to happen. 

“So, truce then?” she asked. 

“A truce seems reasonable,” he replied. 

“I won’t say bad things about you no more. That was wrong of me. I didn’t even think about how that might mess things up. I feel bad now… mostly because I didn’t think about how that might screw things up. Uh, well, I… I was venting. Just blowing off steam. I don’t know if I even meant it. Well, I meant some of it, but not all of it, and some of it was just me complaining and… and…” 

A massive shudder wracked her body once more. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

“No,” she was quick to say. “I’m so shortsighted. I never think of how things might turn out. That’s how I got here. Now I just feel stupid.” 

“Well, don’t feel that way—” 

“I can’t help it.” 

Sundance heard sniffles from behind him, but he didn’t bother to turn around and look. 

“For your sake, I’ll try to be a bit more active and less passive. I thought me being on guard was enough, but I was foolish and made assumptions.” 

“I like it when you’re on guard,” she whispered. “But there are times when I wish that you did more. I don’t know how to put it into words. I’ve spent my whole life never feeling safe.” 

“Well”—he took a moment to consider his words—“do you feel safe right now?” 

She pushed against him hard enough to almost push him back. “Yes. I thought this would be different… but it’s nice. It’s better than screaming and shouting.” 

“I’m not good at conflict,” he said to her. “Because I am submissive and passive.” 

“So this has to be hard for you. What you’re doing now.” 

“Yes,” he replied. 

“But you did it anyway.” 

“It had to be done.” 

“Yeah, it kinda did have to be did. Done.” She paused, then said, “I was wrong about you. You’re not wishy-washy at all. If you’re as uncomfortable as I am… er, as I was… if you can overcome yourself to do this, that’s kinda reassuring.” 

“So, now that we’ve made up, can we be friends?” he asked. 

“It would make us good examples,” she replied. 

“That it would.” 

“I want to be a good mom,” she said to him. “Keep failing at that. Feels bad.” 

“Funny you mention that,” he replied. “I brought you home another fuzzball—” 

“You shouldn’t have.” She pressed her face against the soft skin of his throat and her ears slid along the ridge of his jaw. “Really, you shouldn’t have.” 

“But I did. I brought you home a griffon cub. She’s cute.” 

“But I don’t know a thing about griffons!” 

“You didn’t know about burros or diamond dogs either—” 

“But a griffon… am I going to have to puke down her beak?” 

He struggled to contain a laugh, which threatened all manner of chaos if it escaped. It was too serious a moment to laugh right now. He had to be The Baron and hold it all in. “You’ll think of something, I’m sure. She’s got a sad story. It involves pirates and slavers. Lost her parents. She talks funny too, and has quite an accent.” 

“You have to stop bringing home strays—” 

“But strays like you need a place to live.” 

He felt Hollyhock go still against him. 

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked. 

“I bet she doesn’t feel safe… just like I never felt safe. And with all my complaining, I bet my kids don’t feel safe, because I’ve made them doubt you. Just like my mother did with me.” 

“Oh…” At a loss for words, Sundance wasn’t sure how to smooth this over. 

“Bad mistakes… I just keep making them. That’s how I got here. Why do I do this?” 

He failed to respond in some meaningful way, and it hurt. 

“Hold me just a little longer, please. I need to feel safe right now. I’m having a moment.” 

“Well, we’ll have this moment together, and then I’ll take you to meet Gisela.” 

“Bring home more strays, Sundance. They need a place to feel safe. We can give them that. We can do that together. I’ll make things right… I promise… I promise…”