The Pursuit of Penance

by Paracompact

Wounds Physical and Psychological

I nursed my soup silently in the corner of the bedroom. It had long grown unappetizingly cold, of course, waiting in the shed while I’d played peacekeeper with my wife before setting out in search for George, the town physician. But I sipped it regardless, less for taste and more just as an excuse for something to do while I and my wife Gwendolyn surveilled George’s work from a respectful distance. He murmured to himself as he examined the still-unconscious unicorn’s vitals.

“Well I don’t exactly work with equines enough to tell ya how hot they run, but I don’t think she’s running a fever, no, so that’s good, that’s good… Her breathing is shallow, but it’s steady, and that’s the more important thing, yes… I would tell you that her horn doesn’t look quite right, but I s’pose you told me that’s this one’s pre-existing condition, haha… Nah, wouldn’t know how to fix that even if I wanted to, no siree…”

I ventured a glance up from my soup to read Gwendolyn’s expression. Thankfully, it wasn’t one full of the same indignance that had been present when I first brought Tempest inside, before my frantic search for the doc. No, at this moment it also contained a healthy amount of contented schadenfreude for the creature she despised so much.

No matter, I thought. Happiness is happiness, and it would benefit me to encourage it as much I could. “You know, Gwen, if you’d just wanted to see her suffer, all you had to do was ask: I had her cutting deadwood in that subzero frost a few days ago! Have you ever seen a pony try to handle an axe? To cut through frozen solid bark? It sure is a helpless sight.”

“I’m not only basking in this creature’s misfortune, you should know,” she toyed. “I can’t imagine George’s services come very cheap on such short notice, do they Gel?”

Happiness is happiness… “You’re quite right, dear. No griffon black ale for me this month, from what remains of my allowance.” Nothing, in fact, remained of my allowance this month. And George—ice-cold opportunist he was—had coerced me out of half of next month’s allowance, too.

What had gotten into me? Was I letting this Equestrian clean me out after all?

“Oh, looks like our little patient is gonna pull through!”

I looked over at Tempest to notice her lifting her head and opening her bleary eyes. For reasons of diplomacy I intended to stay in my wife’s corner of the room, but Tempest’s awakening was Gwendolyn’s cue to leave. So, I gently set my soup down and slotted in next to George as he delivered his very expensive bedside manner:

“I’m just joking, of course. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with ya. Based on the history, the incident, and the symptoms, my guess is you simply collapsed from exhaustion and malnutrition is all. But just to be safe, I want to ask you some questions to make sure you’re feeling all right. All right?”

Tempest reached for a cup of water and crackers that George had thoughtfully brought up for her. “All right.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Tempest Shadow.”

“And what is your occupation?”

“I suppose you could say I’m currently a servant, of Gelfand’s household.”

“And before that?”

“… Unemployed.”

“And before that?”

Tempest sighed as George made a show of shining a pocket light across her eyes. “I was the highest-ranking commander of the dreaded Storm King.”

“I see I see. That’s a symptom of confusion worth investigating. Now Gelfand explained a little bit on the way here, but not quite to my satisfaction: Can you tell me what brings you here?”

“Reformation.”

“That much I understood… even if I can’t say I believe it for a second, ahah. You know I treated some of the griffs your soldiers fought with. Some of them, quite extensively, you might say. But neither here nor there: What I really meant with my question, is not what brings you here, but what brings you here? Why bother us again, huh?”

Sensing some tension, I decided to chime in: “She wanted some time away, from anywhere big and important. She didn’t want her ambitions getting the better of her again… or, y’know, so she’s told me.”

“So, then, you mean to say you just took a map of the general carnage you left behind, blindly threw a dart at it, and set out on your penitent adventure?”

Tempest offered an uneasy grin in response. “That’s a fairly accurate description of what my process was, yes.”

George matched her smile with an even larger one of his own. “Well, I’m more a doctor of the physical kind rather than the psychological, but if I might offer my two cents anyway: She’s either a liar, or a loon!”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing,” I said, “but after all this time I figure it has to be more of the latter. What all could she possibly be scheming that’s worth this much effort?”

“Nah, I said a liar, not necessarily a schemer. There is a difference. In fact, she might even be lying to herself.”

Tempest looked at least as confused as I must have. “Oh?”

“Ah, forget I said anything. I’ve been paid to act as your doctor, not your therapist, ahaha. Yep. Just eat right and get some bedrest, maybe wrestle with your inner demons a little, and I promise you’ll be right as rain in no time!”

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

Why didn't you give Gelfand a character tag?

[Paracompact]

10940907
He is, sadly, not a canon character. Here's to hoping Hasbro gets back to me on that! :)