//------------------------------//
// Oh, sandwiches! 
// Story: House of the Rising Sunflower 
// by kudzuhaiku 
//------------------------------//

It was not yet dawn, but Sundance somehow knew that the sun would rise within the hour. Ahead, the beacon burned bright to guide him home. He rather liked the new tower, but worried about how much wood it needed to keep the fire going at night. All that burned wood was not wood saved up for the winter. While he had yet to experience the winter, every story he'd heard so far reinforced the notion that the winter would be brutal. The first winter would be a test; surviving it would be a badge of honour, with every winter after an accolade. 

Megara was a slow flier. There was no nice way of saying it. She had endless endurance, so she wasn't huffing and puffing, but she had to pump her wings every inch of the way home to keep herself airborne. It seemed as though she was incapable of gliding, or having any sort of rest while in flight. Sundance actually felt bad for her, because flying seemed to be a taxing labour rather than an enjoyable activity. 

There were lights on in the barony; he could see them even from this distance. Windows were lit with a vivid orange glow, the distinctive illumination of oil lamps. With all the tar pools, he had all the flammable oil that he would ever need, enough to keep the lamps endlessly lit. But the lamps left soot on the windows if they were too close, and also on the ceiling, so burning oil was less than ideal. As he squinted ahead, eyeballing the considerable distance, he thought of electrification, which would bring all manner of new problems, such as getting lightbulbs. 

Lightbulbs like those that his father made in a factory downtown. 

"Wow, you have a proper castle going on," Megara remarked. 

"Well, sort of. Kind of. We've walled off the box canyon entrance and we did build that guard tower. The changelings built it while I was away as a demonstration of what they can do with their hivemind powers." 

"No… no… you have a castle and that's awesome. They've really fallen out of favour. Lulamoon Hollow doesn't have a castle. We just have towers and treehouses. And while they're pretty, they're also really impractical and I kind of hate them. They're really only practical for unicorns and other ponies and creatures just kind of sorta hafta make do. But you… you have a castle! Castle Daybreak! The most majestic castle east of Canterlot!" 

Just like that, the barony had a name. Sundance knew that it would stick. While he very much liked Rotten Egglünd, he knew in his heart that this name was unfit for his barony's primary settlement. Did baronies have capitals? He didn't know, and thought it too embarrassing to ask. Why, he'd look like an incompetent boob if he did. Castle Daybreak was quite good as far as names went, because he very much wanted the coveted title of Guardian of Dawn, and the names fit together thematically, or so he thought. 

"I rather like Castle Daybreak," he said, voicing his innermost thoughts aloud. "That's a keeper." 



 

There was a strange airship docked here, one that he did not recognise. It was an old design—at least Sundance thought it looked rather dated—but it didn't appear to be a hunk of junk. The ship was anchored out in the field, some distance away from the box canyon. No lights could be seen through the portholes, and it was difficult to make out much detail. He had visitors, it seemed, and at some point very soon he would have to greet them. 

With poise and grace, Sundance touched down atop the gatehouse. It was a good landing, one of his best, and the darkness did not thwart him. Meanwhile, Megara just sort of crashed into the ground down below, and did so with the clank of metal that could only be compared to a tinker pony's wagon being hurled over a cliff. Sundance lept off of the gate house, flapped once, and then landed upon the ground just inside of the gatehouse as Megara stomped through the entrance on two legs. In her front paws, she held the massive pollaxe, perhaps because she had no place to put it down. 

Having been awake for far too long, and feeling quite fatigued, Sundance yawned, but then was very much awake when he saw Corduroy. Something akin to panic bounced around his grey matter and he grew concerned about what might happen between Megara and his nurse. He wanted reconciliation, but it wasn't something that he could just order them to do—or could he? Did he have such power? No, he decided after a moment spent in reason, he did not. 

"You have one new mouth to feed," Corduroy said to Sundance, and it seemed as though she made a point to completely ignore Megara, who now leaned on her pollaxe. "Twilight Velvet sent a foal via parcel services. Sparrowhawk is awake… she's had a tough night and she keeps asking to see you. So you should see her when you get the chance. Also, the mayor of Fillydelphia arrived just before sundown. He wishes to speak with you… probably about what happened with the asylum in Beantown." 

Sundance, uncertain of what to say, did his best to make a mess of things. "Uh, well… uh—" 

"Still trying to save the world, Corduroy?" asked Megara. 

"Still trying to murderise as much of it as you can?" the now-decidedly-dour nurse replied. 

"Some bad things were said," Megara said to Corduroy. "I said some stuff I shouldn't've. I'd give anything to take them back so I can have you as a friend again. There's no excuse for what I did. I was young, and stupid, and didn't have any idea about what I was talking about, and there's not a day that goes by where I don't feel regret over what I did." Reaching up with her right paw, she scratched just behind her ear while avoiding all eye-contact with the somewhat cross diamond dog. "Can you forgive me?" 

"That depends." Folding her arms over her girth, Corduroy adopted a rather defiant stance. "What have you learned?" 

"Well, I've learned that you're probably braver than I am, because I made it a point to avoid you completely after what happened. I was scared of meeting you because I couldn't face what I did… and what I did was wrong. I've matured a bit. I think. Maybe? It's really hard to tell. Actually, I don't know if I've matured at all, but I have learned that I was an idiot. I want my playmate back. Even if you were grumpy about being made to play because you wanted to study. You helped me with my lessons. I would have failed math completely if you hadn't tutored me. What can I say to make this better? I'm really, really, really sorry." 

"That's all that needs to be said," was Corduroy's heartfelt response. 

"You know what?" Fearful, Sundance tread with much caution into unknown territory. "I'm going to leave you two to catch up. You deserve a private moment. Me? I'm going to go and keep Sparrowhawk company for a bit and see how she's doing. You two get things sorted out and when you do, you know where to find me." 

Then, before either of them could respond, he hurried off to the infirmary. 



 

A terrible smell permeated the infirmary, a scent that Sundance associated with sickness and hospitals. Sweat and hot bodies wracked by fever. The faint after-aroma of feces and urine that refused to be subdued with disinfectant. Just inside the door, he had to pause so that his eyes could adjust. A single lamp burned and it's flickering flame cast a wan glow upon the interiour. The bitter smell of herbs assailed Sundance's nose mere moments after entering and for all of about eight seconds or so, he was certain that he would sneeze. 

But the moment passed. 

While his eyes adjusted, his other senses told him much. The sound of chattering teeth was unpleasant, unmistakable. Sundance had endured that during unbearable moments in his own life. Sparrowhawk lay atop her wadded, bunched up covers and her small limbs writhed as she feebly thrashed about in her bed. With careful movement so that his hooves wouldn't make too much noise against the stone floor, he approached her bed, wincing with every sound made. 

She was wet; soaked, and her bedding was drenched. The stench of sickness grew overpowering as he drew closer, but he did not shy away. A part of him wondered how Corduroy had the strength to deal with this, because what he saw broke his heart. There was just too much pain for such a little body. When she moaned, he paused, frozen in place, but after a second of hesitation he found the courage to continue. 

"Hi," he whispered as he stood near her bedside. 

She rolled over, her legs flailing, and her unfocused eyes almost turned in his direction. 

"Need my medicine." Her voice was little more than a weak, pleading whine. "Do you have it?" 

"I'm sorry, I don't," he replied, his heart almost breaking. 

Corduroy suspected that Sparrowhawk was addicted to laudanum, but couldn't be certain. From what she'd told him, it was a common enough practice, and was used to control behaviour in a variety of situations, from unhappy housewives to unruly asylum patients. Laudanum caused intense constipation and a blocking of the bowels—until such a time that withdrawals happened and then violent, explosive diarrhea would set in. Sundance, a pony with a rather simple mind, could not begin to comprehend how this became a practice. 

"How are you feeling, Sparrow?" he asked as he sat down upon the floor beside her bed. "Do you need anything?" 

"My medicine," she whined as she rolled over to look up at him. 

"We don't have any," he said, and he was immediately stricken with guilt for lying, because he knew that Corduroy kept laudanum for emergencies. Every muscle in the back of his neck tensed as his ears pinned back and disappeared into his mane. Raising one foreleg—the uninjured one—he rested it upon the bed beside the stricken filly. 

This close, and he could hear her distressed innards gurgle. 

"Are you mad at me?" she asked. 

"What?" Confused, he hurried to sort out the situation. "Why would I be mad at you?" 

"You left," she said, almost panting. "I'm sorry I bit you. I was scared. Didn't mean it. Can I have my medicine now?" 

"That's not why I left," he said to her, and he wasn't sure how to explain his reasons given her current state. Watching her weak kicks and feeble twitches made him feel tired—or maybe it was the fact that he was awake all night with no sleep. His sense of fatigue was replaced with one moment of incredible, inarticulate rage, which seemed to pass in the span of one heartbeat. 

With slow, jerky effort, she wrapped her forelegs around his own. She was wet. Sweaty. Smelly. The sweat that oozed out of every pore was befouled by the sickness that afflicted her body. But Sundance did not pull away, nor did he cringe. When she pressed her face against his foreleg, he leaned in a little closer, and he felt her hot, moist breath saturating his pelt. She was on fire and he wondered just how bad the fever was. Surely, Corduroy had everything under control, yet he could not help but feel scared. 

Sparrowhawk was so small and so vulnerable. 

During their first meeting, she was an invulnerable terror. Much had changed. Once the fog cleared, and she was beyond these awful withdrawals, he wondered what sort of filly she might be. Would she still be fearless? Reckless? Violent? A part of him doubted it. Twilight Velvet's notes suggested that she would be an empty vessel, ready to be filled with love and kindness. He rather doubted that as well, but lacked the experience to express why. It wasn't that he didn't trust Twilight Velvet—even with all that happened he trusted her a great deal—it was more of the fact that a part of him refused to believe that it would be that simple. 

Twilight Velvet's notes might have been filled with a few fiblets to make him feel better. 

"Hold me," she said as she began to crawl towards him. 

Saying nothing, Sundance scooped her up so that he might offer her what little comfort that he could… 



 

"You got her to go to sleep," Corduroy said to Sundance as she picked up the limp pegasus foal. "Good. Good. This is good. She had a rough night. Now I can change her bedding." 

Leaning over, Corduroy opened up the wooden lid on Sundance's old sleeping crate, and with a swift motion, she tucked Sparrowhawk inside in very much the same way that she might place a tray into a hot oven. Somewhat distressed, Sundance looked to Corduroy for reassurance, and when she turned around, she brushed some dirt and chocolate brown hair off of her mostly-clean smock. 

"She sleeps better in there," the nurse said to the worried pegasus in need of a kind word. "This way I can open up the drapes and windows and air this place out. And whew, this place needs airing out. By the way, a bit of a crowd has gathered outside. You might want to go and check that out. The peasantry has discovered that there is a manticore at large in the barony." 

"Oh, sandwiches!" 

"Sandwiches?" The best possible quizzical dog expression took over Corduroy's face. "Sandwiches?" Her paw-fingers flexed once, twice, and then a third time. 

"I'm very tired," he said, offering the merest possible explanation. "I should go before the crowd turns ugly!" 

Before Corduroy could respond, Sundance was already out the door. 



 

In the welcome light that ended the night, everything seemed alright. Sundance, still quite alarmed, expected something wholly different than the current situation. Everything was calm as the dawn banished the lingering remains of the night. The early risers had gathered in a cluster around Megara and were lost in quiet examination. As for the manticore spawn herself, she sat very still. Why, she was almost a statue. Not even her whiskers quivered. 

For all of the calm, there was still a lot of intensity. Intense intensity, Sundance thought to himself as he hurried into the thick of the crowd. Now wasn't the time to be submissive, or allow stuff to just happen. No. Now was a time to be a baron. To step up. It was time to do the right thing, whatever that was. He wasn't sure. Something had to be done, even though everything was fine. Yes, something had to be done because everything was fine. The fine state of things had to be cemented into place. But how? This acceptance had to be reinforced. 

Now he understood why his mother lept up to praise him when he did right. 

It all made sense! 

After clearing his throat, he said to the gathered crowd, "I'm proud of you all. This is remarkable." 

As was so often the case, Earwig spoke for the others. "Well, yer Lordship, we wasn't about to pass up a chance to see a manticore up close. She seems friendly enough." 

"Yeah," somepony said. "Friendly." 

Now standing beside Megara, Sundance nodded. "She's friendly. Megara is here to help me learn how to fight and defend the barony. I want all of you to treat her with all of the warmth and kindness that you give to me." 

"We gave you a hard time," somepony said. 

"But I earned your acceptance." Sundance had himself a look around and then squirmed a bit because of the intense intensity still found within the crowd. "And really, I couldn't be more proud of you all than I am right now." 

"You have our trust," Earwig said to Sundance. "You brought home Corduroy, and that worked out for us all. Then there was Gothcruz… he's a bit funny looking and more than a little weird, but he's a hard worker and he likes our stories." 

"You're the best, Earwig," The zurro said from the rear of the crowd. 

"Some of us were a bit worried when you brought home a griffon, but dear little Gisela is beloved by all. And she's a terror to the rabbits… the awful, awful rabbits, horrible little toothy blighters that they are. Gerard was a bit bigger… and a bit more scary, but then we got to know him and he's more scared of us than we are of him. He jumps at his own shadow—" 

"I do not!" 

"You do!" Earwig retorted. 

"Do not!" 

"Oh, but you do!" Then, before the young griffon could argue, Earwig continued, "Mighty is just as strong as any of us and she works hard. And she has hands! Hard work without magic, the way hard work was meant to be done. We likes that, so we does. As for the changelings, we were a bit worried about them, but they'd been great fun and a lot of help. Now, you've brought home a manticore, and most of us are wondering what she'll do to help us or make our lives better. It's not that we trust her… not yet. No offense, lady manticore—" 

"None taken," Megara said with a polite nod. 

"—but we trust you, Sundance. You wouldn't bring home a manticore unless you were absolutely certain that we'd be safe. You've already shown us that you put our safety above your own." 

Before Sundance could respond, Megara grabbed him by the neck, yanked him close, and said into his ear, "Don't ever mess this up. You have a rare and valuable treasure here. Never mess this up!" 

"Glurk!" Sundance glurked, because anything beyond a simple glurk was nigh-impossible with Megara's paw-fingers encircled around his slender neck. 

"Don't ever mess up this trust," she said to him whilst she also gave him a gentle, affectionate shake that threatened to dislocate most of his joints from one another. "Not even Pebble has this kind of trust. And I've never had this kind of acceptance… ever. Not even with my service. If you ever betray their trust… I will turn you inside out!" 

When she let go, Sundance slurped in a much-needed breath and then waited for the stars to retreat from his vision. Manticores! Goodness! He inhaled again, and then for a third time, while at the same time he decided that he didn't want to be turned inside out. Trust and loyalty were valuable commodities, it seemed. Far more precious than gold and wealth. Reaching up, he rubbed his neck, and wondered what Megara would be like if she weren't so playful and affectionate. 

"He could use a bit of toughening up," Earwig said as she looked on with worried concern seen in her eyes. "But he's tougher than you know. Probably tougher than you give him credit for. He's not earth pony tough"—she paused, her eyes narrow and her ears pricked in defiance—"but he's not a quitter, and we all respect that. And you… you'd better respect that too, if you know what's good for you, manticore. He don't give in, even if it hurts him. You'd best keep that in mind." 

"You have their trust and their respect." This time, when Megara laid her paw on Sundance, her touch truly was gentle and she steadied him on his hooves. "I am going to make you worthy of that trust and respect… even if it kills you. I will be your crucible, Sundance. I will burn away your dross and I will pound out your weaknesses. I will be the hammer and the anvil… and you… you will be a shapeless, formless blob of metal ready to be given new purpose and form. No sense lying to you… I'm gonna hurt you real bad. For all the right reasons." 

"Can I have some breakfast and a bit of shuteye first?" he asked. 

"I was wanting some of that as well," she replied. "But I have no idea where I'm going to sleep. I don't think I'll fit through those tiny doors."