//------------------------------// // Offended nurse? What could be worse? // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The world had finally slowed down enough for Sundance to relax, and with his hooligan headache gone, relax he did. He floated in a somewhat duck-like manner in the basin pool at the base of the waterfall whilst he squinted to keep the late afternoon sun out of his eyes. The water was warm; not quite bathwater warm, but any warmer and it might very well defeat the purpose of a dip to cool off. A canny sort, he was entirely aware of what a pegasus looked like when they floated as he did in the water.  Quack-quack.  Above him, past the ledge that the waterfall poured over, there was a lot going on. Starlight Glimmer functioned as a crane, for one thing, and the junky old airship that Hoppy had arrived in was now gutted, with its hind-end torn open so that its innards could be exposed. Sundance had no idea what was going on up there, and truth be told, he didn't want to know. Smart ponies were at work doing something, and he could trust them to get it done. All he wanted to do was float—and so he did. His long legs caused his hooves to scrape against the stone basin as he drifted nearer to the edge.  A loud clunk from up above caused all of Sundance's feathers to puff out, but he was otherwise undisturbed. The falling water caused immense ripples that radiated outward in soothing circles and caused him to bob up and down. It almost made him sleepy. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to look at the crystal tree, and when his thoughts about Cucumber became too much to bear, he turned his eyes elsewhere.  And then, without warning, he was no longer alone.  Gisela emerged out of the bunkhouse for the orphans; the door opened and out she came, alone and unescorted. It was only when she flew right at him that he understood why she was allowed outside without adult supervision—because he was the adult supervision. He heard the soft fluttering of wings—hers were almost spookily silent—and then, in a move that surprised him, she landed on his back.  Her tiny but sharp claws prickled him as she struggled to keep her balance, but she did not injure him. Sundance too, had to expend some effort to keep himself upright, but it was really no trouble at all. Gisela was small and very nearly weightless upon his back. Soon, the two of them found their balance, and there was no longer any struggle. He felt her as she sat down just between his wings, and her stubby tail almost tickled him.  "Scared of the water?" he asked.  "Can't swim," she replied.  "We'll have to sort that out," he said to her.  "Where does all the water go?" she asked. "Only some of it pours out."  "I think," he began, grateful for this distraction, "that most of the water flows into that crack at the bottom of the basin. It then gets brought to a boil in the ground down below us, and then that hot, boiling water bubbles up into that cave over there. The kitchen used to be in there, along with the baths. Kinda yucky if you ask me. Corduroy put an end to that and brought hygiene into our lives."  "She told me to talk to you."  "Did she?" Sundance felt tiny talons tugging at his mane.  "I lost my parents," the cub perched upon his back said.  A sigh was heaved, almost as if it were discarded, and then all sense of feeling went sideways. Like a sad duckling, his head bowed until his nose almost touched the water, and this time, when he sighed a second time, his sudden exhalation caused choppy ripples in the water. Little claws combed through his mane, tugging away at the tangles, and there was something immensely comforting about this act of kindness.  It was easier to talk about how the water flowed.  Without warning, the hooligan headache returned and brought with it some truly terrific neck cramps. The base of his skull felt as though it were caught in a vice and the pressure reached the point of being utterly unbearable far too soon. While his own feelings were awful, he could not help but feel worse for Gisela. How awful it must have been for her. Not just to lose her parents, but then get shuffled from place to place. Rather than grieve for what she had lost, Gisela had to go from place to place and put her best face forward. She had no choice but to be well-adjusted and well-behaved. There were probably a lot of moments where she had to pretend that nothing was wrong. For a moment, Sundance wasn't sure which was more powerful; his grief, or his sense of empathy.  "You never got to say goodbye, did you?" he asked.  "Non-non," she replied in what was barely a whisper.  "I'm sorry." He was sorry. More than he realised. The sheer weight of it all bore down upon him, and in his moment of profound grief, he found gratitude. For lack of anything better to say, he asked, "Do you like Hollyhock?"  "She likes me," the cub replied, her accent thicker than ever. "Wants to be my maman."  "Is it hard for you? I mean… well, of course it is… but I mean, you probably just want to be left alone and Hollyhock, well, knowing her, she probably wants to comfort you and do what she does."  "Oui."  "Everypony is trying to help me before I fall apart. Worried I guess. That's a good thing, I suppose. It means that they care about me. Don't know how I feel about all of this. Truth is, I don't want to feel anything at all. I just want it to go away and I don't want to think about it or feel anything at all. I want it to be over so I can just go on with my life. But I feel real bad because I want this."  "That's bad," the cub said. "Not good. Pas bon."  "I suppose it is." He allowed the water to carry him where it may and the ripples caused him to bob up and down as he drifted closer to where the waterfall poured into the stone basin. Little claws combed through his mane and climbed further up his neck, which sent shivers down his kinked spine.  Pegasus ponies, in their most intimate and heartfelt moments, groomed one another. It was something unique to their tribe, something that the unicorns and earth ponies did not fully understand. It was something done with family members, loved ones, and those most dear. Griffons too, he realised, also followed similar social rituals. Little Gisela was grooming him, an attempt to make him feel better no doubt, and he had no idea how he felt about it.  But he was touched—in more ways than one.  "When Cucumber died… I didn't deal with it. Now that I think about it, I guess I just avoided it until it went away, except it hasn't gone away. Now that my grandmother has died, I have to deal with both. I don't know how."  There was a soft sigh from Gisela, and then he heard her say, "Equestria is a magical place with no sadness. That's what my parents told me. Père promised it was true. No more troubles. No more hunger."  "And you had to face the truth on your own, without your parents. I'm sorry, Gisela."  A ruckus, or perhaps even a hullabaloo could be heard above them, over the ledge of the waterfall. The clatter of metal, assorted clunks, gong-noises, a multitude of kabongs, all of which was followed by the bluest, most ear-blistering profanity that Sundance had ever heard in his life. It was Hoppy; of course it was Hoppy. That particular unicorn mare just had that way about her. He hardly knew her, but he recognised her voice, the very voice that spewed out the profanest profanities ever produced.  As the cacophony subsided, Gisela said, "I like it here. I don't like the city. I don't get punished for saying my words. It's getting harder to say them. They go away when I don't say them."  Somewhere up above them, Hoppy went on an explosive tirade about the fornicative habits of the airship's mother, a string of expletives so vulgar, so vile, so very vomitous—that Sundance began to wonder if he should perhaps put a stop to it. But as it turned out, he need not worry; the infirmary door opened, Corduroy stuck her head out, and after but a second of listening, the diamond dog nurse made the most terrifying, most turn-your-bowels-to-water expression that Sundance had ever seen.  Something about the way that Corduroy's triangular ears angled forward…  "Hang on, Gisela… you and I are going to go somewhere safe. Hang on tight!"    "Here she is, home safe," Sundance said to Hollyhock, who seemed a bit out of sorts. It wasn't that she seemed angry, but she might very well be annoyed, or perhaps frustrated with him. "She wanted to see the orchard and I think we both needed to clear our heads." With this, Hollyhock seemed somewhat mollified, and Sundance allowed himself a faint grin of relief.  The sun had gone west to die and now, the last vestiges of the dying light turned everything a hazy shade of orange. Hollyhock stood in the doorway, her face performing all manner of complicated facial gymnastics, and Gisela still sat upon Sundance's back. Inside the bunkhouse, it was clearly bedtime, as Hollyhock was a firm believer that little ones should go to bed when the sun did.  "How are you holding up?" she asked.  He took a moment to look Hollyhock in the eye and was thankful that things had sort of been sorted out between them. At least there didn't seem to be any open animosity to keep them apart. Something had changed—though he felt no need to press his luck. Her warm concern was genuine and something within her eyes might even be affectionate. He decided that she was irked because flying just before bedtime probably left Gisela in an excited state—but she wasn't exactly the sort to go to bed with the sun.  Little Gisela was a hooter—and Hollyhock would have to come to terms with that.  "I don't know," he replied with complete honesty.  "That can't be good."  Unable to deal with further conversation about this subject, he changed it. "How do you feel about Gisela and her bits of Fancy?"  This caught Hollyhock by surprise and she stood there for a moment, blinking. When she recovered a bit, she said, "I find it charming. I've been trying to get her to teach what she knows to the others. It's cute."  "Well," he began, sighing out the first word, "that's good, because her last caretaker punished her for it. She got punished for not speaking in Equestrian Common."  Something dark could be seen just behind Hollyhock's eyes, and Sundance, though surprised by it, was relieved to see it. The son of Officer Mom, he knew maternal fury when he saw it, and like a pot left on a hot stove, Hollyhock began to boil over in her own quiet way. For all of her faults, of which there were many, she was still a good mare, with good intentions, who wanted only the best for her wards.  Now, it was his turn. "Are you alright, Holly?" He saw her upper lip tremble, a warning sign for certain.  "I'm fine," she said in a manner that indicated that she was not fine. "But I am overcome with the need to kick somepony into whatever is above the stratosphere." "Big mad!" Runt cried from within the bunkhouse.  "Think sleepy thoughts, Runt," Hollyhock said in an artificially cheerful voice. "Sleepy bedtime thoughts. Warm blankets and nice hugs. Snuggly sleepy thoughts, Runt."  "Nice hugs?" he dared to ask aloud.  "Runt is a hugger," she replied. "Strong, too. Being an earth pony, I can take it. I'm pretty sure that he could hug you into jam. So I'm trying to teach him about nice hugs."  "Oh." Somewhat surprised, Sundance found himself at a loss for words, and had no clever response.  "He just needs to be taught," she said to offer some reassurance. "He can be taught. My little Runty is a bit slow, but he's not a lost cause."  "I'm glad to hear you say that."  "Gisela, are you ready to go to bed?" asked Hollyhock.  There was no response from the cub, who stiffened upon Sundance's back.  "Holly, please, try to indulge her nighttime nature if you can. Just a little bit." Looking her in the eye, Sundance attempted to plead his case through expression alone. "Let her help you put the others to bed. If she stays up a little later, she can help you with your little one. Or you could have a little special time together, just the two of you."  "But it's not fair to the others," Hollyhock replied.  "Maybe not," he agreed to smooth the situation over, "but it doesn't feel very fair to Gisela. She is, after all, rather owlish."  "Alright, alright…" With her head bowed, Hollyhock agreed to compromise. "I suppose I could use a helper. Come on, Gisela."  With a flutter of wings, the tiny griffon cub lept from Sundance's back and then landed upon Hollyhock's. The earth pony mare seemed surprised by this for a moment, but she was quick to recover. Sundance found himself looking down at Hollyhock, and she up at him. Whatever their relationship was, he didn't understand it, other than they were raising young together. Which was weird, really. They shared equal responsibilities, each in their own way, and as he stood there, lost in his own thoughts, he wondered how he might be more involved.  He needed to be more involved.  "Good night," he said to all. "You behave and you mind Miss Hollyhock. She wants what is best for you."  In return, he heard many goodnights, and at least one stifled yawn, which forced a smile out of him. Some measure of calm had returned to Hollyhock's face, but he knew that she was still upset. Her sense of motherhood had been pricked; somepony had messed with one of her young, and that was not something that would go away anytime soon.  "I have a few empty beds," she said in a low whisper to Sundance. "Seems a shame to waste them. I have room for a few more in the bunkhouse… and my heart."  "I'll see what I can do," he replied. "Goodnight, all."   The day ended, as days tended to do. And what a day it had been. Alone with his thoughts, Sundance paced the length of his room, which was still sparsely furnished. The clip-clop of his hooves against the stone floor echoed off of the walls, also stone, and the sound was somehow both annoying and reassuring. Back and forth he went in a mindless manner, dreading the long night to come.  Would it be paperwork that got him through the night? Pacing along the parapets? That struck him as a most noble thing to do; he wouldn't patrol the parapets to avoid sleep, no. He would keep watch, and that was an act of sacrifice, a little something of himself that he gave to others. A book might be nice, but his attention span could only be called injured at this point. There was the radio, but it lacked appeal and the poor reception would surely drive him nuts.  Just as he turned about at the far side of the room, the door—halfway shut—was pushed open completely. Turmeric stood in the doorway, almost squinting, and there was a knowing look on his face. At least, Sundance read it as a knowing look. The two of them sized one another up for a short time, and for Sundance, he could not help but feel that he was caught in the act of doing wrong.  Unable to overcome his sense of guilt, he was the first to turn away.  "Time for bed, Sundance."  Caught completely off guard, he backed up a step and stared down at the floor.  "Come on, Sundance. It's time for bed. And I'm taking you to bed."  He tried to pick his gaze up off the floor, and failed.  "Before you ask, Corduroy put me up to this."  "I don't know about this," Sundance managed to say.  "For clarity's sake… nothing is going to happen. We're just going to bed. I'm going to be here for you, because the night is long." Turmeric entered the room proper and shut the door behind him with his hind leg. It was a remarkably confident gesture for the meek stallion.  "Not sure how I feel about this and I—"  "We've slept together before, Sundance," said Turmeric, who now closed the distance between them. "Why does this have to be weird? Two mares sleep together, and nopony bats an eye. They can sit in a tub together at the spa and it is all perfectly normal. This is why I so desperately want to be a mare, Sundance. I don't like how my gender requires me to shut others out. Can I not be comforting? Why can't I be there for you when you need me?"  "That's a lot to think about, Turmeric."  "It is, and I'm sorry for that." The slight yellowish stallion licked his lips with his orange tongue. "And you should know that I'm about ten seconds away from having an anxiety attack from being so assertive. This is terrifying."  Sundance blinked once, glanced over at his friend, blinked again for the second time, and saw a completely different pony. His mustard-coloured friend was stricken with terror, but doing everything to hide it. Muscles twitched and tugged. Ears trembled. Something seemed off with his pupils. Nostrils were flared wide and his sides heaved with overdrawn, laboured breaths. Turmeric had stuck his neck out to be a good friend.  Without thinking, Sundance went to him, he crossed the room with his long stride, and with his wings extended, he embraced his friend. Turmeric remained frozen for a short time, stiff and rigid as he was, but was quick to melt into Sundance's warm, feathery embrace. While he couldn't tell if this felt right, it at least didn't feel too terribly wrong—at least once he got over his initial hangup about the awkward situation.  Yes, the night would be long, but he was not alone.