• Published 11th Jan 2018
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House of the Rising Sunflower - kudzuhaiku



Hard work is its own reward, and competence can be one's ultimate undoing.

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Not the smartest pony

“Look, Corduroy, there’s something you should know. My peasants are snarky, a bit backwards, and I don’t do much to rein them in. They’ve all been horribly abused in ways I can barely understand. All of them are the survivors, the ones who’ve stuck it out until the very bitter end, refusing to leave the land. I need you to be very, very understanding of this.” Sundance took a deep breath, held it, and wasn’t sure how to continue.

But he had to continue, this was a job that had to be done.

“And there is also the matter of me, myself. I have no idea what I’m doing. Right now, I’m about to take you on for a position that I don’t even know how to name. Clearly, you’ll be more than a peasant, or even a nurse.” Floundering for words, something almost like an idea dawned on the far-away horizon of his mind. A single golden ray of hope manifested and with this sudden illumination, he realised just how far-fetched his other idea was, the one involving stories of snatching a massive diamond dog from her home and having her go along with the act while he threatened her with hot pokers.

Corduroy, no doubt smarter than he was by far, seemed to be waiting for him to collect his thoughts. Her eyes gleamed with inner joy, some great sense of happiness, but her outward exteriour was one of great calm. Another golden ray joined the first, then another, and then Sundance understood how to make this work. All he had to do was get Cucumber’s approval somehow, and once Cucumber was on board with this, then everypony else would get behind him.

“Getting you accepted is going to take some work, and I already have something of a plan. I had a really, really stupid plan going there for a while, but I’m going to ditch that plan because it could only blow up in my face in spectacular ways.” His mind racing, he sucked in a deep breath and forced his thoughts to slow down so he wouldn’t end up stuttering or making a mess of his words.

“You’re hired, you have the job. But getting my retainer to like you… see, that’s the worry I now have. As for the rest of the peasants, I suspect they’ll just go along with whatever my retainer has to say. So what we’re going to do is make my retainer’s life a whole lot easier. He’s old. Like, you wouldn’t believe how old he is. Over a century. I mean, he is old. Something tells me he doesn’t see so very well and I’m not sure how he gets around as well as he does without bumping into stuff or tripping over things. But he does, and it’s a bit creepy now that I think about it.”

A dire look of worrisome concern spread over Fleur’s face with Sundance’s every word.

Lifting one hoof, he tapped it a few times on the edge of the battered table while trying to bring himself back on subject. Then, feeling brilliant, he lifted his hoof up and held it out to Corduroy. “See, you don’t have these. You have those paws and fingers. You have opposable digits. You could spare poor Cucumber a lot of walking by making sure that the fires stay lit and doing all those things that he does with his magic.”

He shook his hoof around for a bit, and then put it back down upon the table.

“If he finds you indispensable, he’ll accept you. I think. I hope. Maybe? As an extra added bonus, if you go around and tend to the fires, you can earn the trust of the peasants. Except I’m not sure if you’ll fit into the doors of the hovels and my entire plan just went up in smoke.” Hanging his head, his ears sagged as he breathed out a long sigh of frustrated defeat.

“Your plan will work,” Corduroy said. “It’s a good plan and I can be more than a nurse if necessary. If ponies depend on me for hard tasks that I find easy, they’ll accept me for the sake of convenience.”

“But the doors—”

“We’ll find a way.”

“This is good.” Fleur’s interjection came at a perfect time, because words failed Sundance. “Oh, I am pleased right now. Fancy Pants will be beside himself when he hears the news. Finally, I have entwined two lives together in some meaningful way. I almost feel like a princess.”

Hearing this gave Sundance pause as he tried to figure out what Fleur meant exactly.

He did not stay distracted for long. What was he getting into? First it had been the night terrors, the bat-winged nocturnal pegasus ponies of the night. Why had he gone along with that? He was still uncomfortable with the whole idea. To be agreeable? Doing the right thing seemed so much harder when one had to do what was best for a barony rather than themselves. He’d progressed from night-time horrors to slave-snatching diamond dogs, the poachers who hid behind trees.

Yes, he was left quite astonished with himself, because he had gone contrary against his own nature. Of course he was uncomfortable—he recognised that and could not deny it—but his own discomfort was the cost of progress. Living in a place where creature comforts were few and far between. At this moment, Sundance had some profound revelation about himself: he was a creature that truly enjoyed comfort and being comfortable.

Living with his mother, he had a comfortable little room, he did a comfortable job where he made a comfortable amount of money that was just enough to pay for his expenses, which were at a comfortable level. Sure, he had been poor—impoverished even—but by keeping his expectations low and doing little with his life beyond his genealogy project, he’d maintained a comfort-level that he was comfortable with.

Not much in his life challenged him and he had been content with his daredevil antics.

But that life had ended. Now, everything challenged him. His every waking moment was spent going from one uncomfortable situation to the next. Like right now. A part of him was still a bit uncomfortable with Corduroy, but he was rapidly getting over that. No, his real concern was bringing her home to the barony, and facing ponies that were just like himself, or worse. It was the worst thing he could think of—facing himself—and he was already practically squirming in anticipation of having to deal with the potential situation waiting for him at home.

To be comfortable again and to have a relatively complication-free existence...

Because he’d done this one thing, other more complicated things would be expected of him in the future. Upon reaching this conclusion, he quickly reached a second: the royals must have the most complicated lives in all of existence, as each of them took on complications and competed with one another. Upon his arrival at this unpleasant destination, he shuddered and wondered what dreadful station his train of thought would whisk him away to next.

Fleur laid a featherlight hoof upon Sundance and asked, “Dearest, are you okay?”

It took him a moment before any sort of response could be made. So lost in his thoughts was he that he couldn’t feel the cushion he was sitting on. He only had a vague awareness of Fleur’s gentle touch. His mother didn’t have a gentle touch, she had a firm, commanding touch that could not be ignored.

How could he possibly explain his thoughts?

The situation he found himself in demanded more of him. No longer could he think only of himself. His close-mindedness was now a thing of the past. Going forward, he would be forced to set his biases aside. His own wants and desires were now largely irrelevant. Prosperity came at a price, and that cost was his own comfort, his own sense of conformity, which had been pounded into him from an early, tender age.

“I’m having a baron moment,” said Sundance, almost muttering.

Corduroy was a credible, capable nurse whose appearance and physical form held her back. How was this any different than the tribalism that plagued ponies? His mother had a lot to say about tribalism, she equated it with hooliganism, but she seemed okay with a general mistrust or even outright disdain of other species. These were not copacetic thoughts.

“You seem to be showing symptoms of heightened anxiety,” Corduroy said to Sundance. “Are you well?”

“I’ve gained awareness of my own faults,” he replied, too distracted to be anything but honest. “Coming to Canterlot changed me. I’ve awakened to parts of my self that I had no idea existed. Or, no, maybe… I don’t know if that’s the right words. The world is not what I thought it was. I don’t know what I’m saying. Look… I need to do a lot of growing up right away, because there is a lot expected of me. There’s a lot on my mind right now.”

“A baron moment?” Corduroy tilted her head off to one side. “Is this because of me?”

“Yes,” he replied with unabashed honesty. “I don’t have the luxury of slowly coming around to acceptance and making gradual changes to my mind and thinking. You’re better than a midwife. You… you’re the best possible help that I could hope for, and if I… uh, if I were to send you away because of my own, uh, how do I say it… if I were to send you away because of my prejudices, I’d not only be hurting my barony, but also myself. Princess Celestia put me in this position because she trusted me to do the right thing. I think? I’m pretty sure that she, uh, well, I’m almost certain that she would want me to do the bold thing. Otherwise, she’d just threaten me with cream cheese tarts again and then things would be awkward and I’m no good at these moments of self-examination.”

“In my professional opinion,” said Corduroy, whispering, “I think Baron Sundance needs lunch.”

“Oh!” Fleur gasped. “Capital idea! I know just the place. My treat! The owner has fits of appreciation when I bring the young nobles there for a meal. Says it does wonders for her establishment’s reputation.”

“Fleur, is everything you do an attempt to improve the lives of others?” Corduroy looked down at the small mare beside her.

“For a long time, I lived a shallow, superficial life. I was once a socialite, obsessed with social standing and image. Now, I deal in social capital.” Fleur smiled and beamed her warm affection at the diamond dog beside her. “Fancy Pants and I have wealth, ways, and means. To do nothing would be… dreadful. We have so much. Of all of the Equestrian Virtues, we choose to be generous.”

“I follow Kindness myself.” Corduroy seemed almost bashful. “I met her once when I was younger, and again when I was a little older. I’ve spent my life trying to be like her. Even made a little shrine to her when I was a pup, and carved an image of her from soapstone. It is good to aspire to something greater.”

Both Corduroy and Fleur turned to look at him, and Sundance knew what they were thinking. Before either could say anything, he shrugged and did his best to look bewildered. At the moment, his mind was on other things, like getting home and looking after Hollyhock. Lunch seemed inevitable though, which meant trying to eat fast without being rude, and with all of his scatterbrained thoughts, he didn’t have time to think about virtues.

“The Virtues are important.” Corduroy paused for a moment, her triangle ears pivoted around, and then she folded her paws together. “By choosing one to aspire to, we can simplify our path to progress and self-betterment. Like anything else, we can be passing fair in everything, or exceptional in just one thing. By focusing upon the great Equestrian Virtue of Kindness, I have found purpose in my life. Through my meditations, I’ve gained insight that has made me a better nurse. A better creature over all.”

“But you’re a diamond dog. Why follow Equestrian values? Why embrace these… uh, Virtues?” Perplexed, Sundance didn’t think very much about what he had said before blurting it out, and it was only after the fact did he understand how careless and inconsiderate he sounded. Frustrated with himself, he grunted, then said, “Sorry. I was careless. But I want to understand.”

“Kindness knows no face, but recognises need,” Corduroy replied. Showing no signs of being upset, she smiled. “That resonates with me. My face holds me back from what I want in life. So I try to live by the ideal that I’d like to see in the world. Imagine how much better things would be if we failed to notice faces, or wings, or horns, or a lack of those things. Just think about how much nicer the world would be if we just saw need… and then did something about those needs.”

“Like you… needing a job and purpose.” Sundance found himself nodding. “But you left home to find these needs where they are scarce. Were you hoping to find kindness in the world?”

“Perhaps.” Corduroy shrugged. “This might sound contrary, but Canterlot is a generous city, though not a kind city.” Then, rather hastily she added, “No offense meant, Fleur.”

“None taken, ‘tis true.” Sighing, Fleur shook her head. “Corduroy, you stand out because of what you are. There are many in Canterlot who need assistance and sadly, some of them are ignored, for whatever reason. This is not a topic I am comfortable with, yet here I am, discussing our collective shortcomings.”

“The bureaucracy can be quite cold, unfeeling, and unaccommodating.”

“Oh, I know, Corduroy, I know. It used to be worse. The reformation has made things better, but these are issues that will take a lifetime to sort out. Some cold consolation, that. Knowing that the next generation will see the improvements that we ourselves wish we had. I wish Twilight Velvet and Prince Gosling had come along sooner. Though I suppose things happen when they are meant to happen, and not a moment before.”

Eyebrow arching, Sundance studied Fleur. Just now, she almost seemed like a stranger. No refinement, no culture, none of what made her Fleur. Her mannerisms, the way she spoke, it had all been stripped away. A second side of Fleur had just revealed itself and already, from the looks of things, she was trying to sort herself out.

“Mister Teapot once said that the bureaucrats put too much focus on the needs of the nation, while forgetting that the citizens are the nation. And I’m inclined to agree. The bureaucracy affected him as both a pony and a professor, and he was always in some fight or another. It attributed to his Mook Philosophy.”

“Mook what?” All of Sundance’s complicated thoughts were shoved aside to focus on what Corduroy had just said.

“Well, Mister Teapot had this philosophical theory of sorts, that there are two types of creatures. Not-Mooks and Mooks. He has this curious hypothesis that the Not-Mooks hated the Mooks so much that they created society and civilisation in an effort to eradicate them. Organised efforts and all that. But Mooks persisted, very much like cockroaches, and are a plague upon civilised life. He once gave a dissertation at Baltimare University, and Princess Celestia was there, and she was the only pony who clapped when he was finished. He said it felt awkward when he realised that he and Princess Celestia were the only Not-Mooks in the auditorium.”

“This is something we should discuss over lunch,” Fleur suggested.

Sundance nodded. A quick lunch, because he needed to get home to Hollyhock.

Author's Note:

There is a lot said between the lines...

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