The dining hall was packed with ponies and one diamond dog. Sundance surveyed them, trying to read their faces. Some were not present, having gone off to work, but most had attended, as had been requested. As for Gage, their newest resident, he was off in Canterlot securing settlement supplies for himself. Most of the faces were rather blank, a few were attentive, but thankfully, none seemed angry or upset.

“Do you understand why I’ve brought you together today?” he asked.

No response, and he knew why. The very idea of him seeking out their opinion on this matter baffled them, left them bewildered. This went beyond their reasoning and so far, this had been a most frustrating start to what he believed was a great idea. But to accomplish his aims, he needed their input, their thoughts, their feelings. Which seemed almost impossible to pry out of them.

While Sundance stood rooted to the spot, thoughtful, Cucumber shuffled around to serve tea.

“You uh…”—Earwax stretched out her ‘uh’ to an incredible length—“want to build something?”

“Yes,” Sundance replied, nodding, “yes I do.”

“Then build it,” Earwig said, shaking her head. “Why bother us?”

Biting his lip, Sundance rubbed his brow with the central knuckle of his wing and summoned up all of the patience he had within him. When he was sure that he had his frustration contained, and that his voice would be smooth, alluring, and pleasant, it was only then that he allowed himself to speak.

“This is your land. I am a facilitator. A bureaucrat. I do the work to make things happen, to make things better, to do whatever needs to be done. But make no mistake, this is your land. And I don’t want to make a decision that will hurt you, or upset you. We have a chance to do something great, but I’ll not move forward with it until I know that it is okay.”

Still, most of the faces remained blank. Corduroy appeared sympathetic, but Sundance couldn’t quite be certain, as her face could be hard to read at times. She pinched a simple steel spoon between her paw-finger and paw-thumb, and then, with delicate deliberation, she stirred her cup of tea.

“I’m not sure why we should care about what outsiders think of us,” said Stump, his voice rather scratchy.

“Oh, of course the loner would say that.” Privy Pit rolled her eyes, tossed her head around, and whinnied. “That said, he has a point. We’re doing just fine without outsiders.”

“No, we’re not.” Cucumber, who held the enormous earthenware teapot aloft, aimed a withering scowl at Privy Pit. “That’s the whole point, ye daft twit. We need new blood in the barony. We’re dying off—”

“We have Hollyhock. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Privy Pit’s interruption caused a tempestuous alteration to come over Cucumber, and the old retainer’s legs stiffened as his thin, sparse hairs rose along his spine. His nostrils flared, his rheumy eyes focused, and the whistling wheeze in his barrel intensified as his transformation progressed. The teapot was placed down upon the corner of the table and Cucumber’s tail slashed the air behind him.

Sundance, who had never seen Cucumber lose his patience, watched with the same sort of interest as one watched a tornado or a monster rising up out of the sea. His retainer’s slow boil was scary, but was impossible to turn away from. The stench of a storm filled the dining hall, something vaguely electric, and Sundance could feel a weird static crackle building up in his wings.

“By the alicorns,” Cucumber said to Privy Pit, “yer a big dumb lummox.”

Seething, but doing so in silence, the big, stocky mare turned away from Cucumber and did her best to ignore him. When the snickering started, Privy Pit’s ears retreated back into her mane and she ground her teeth together, fuming, but not daring to say a single word to the unicorn that kept his withering glare upon her.

Fallow Fields, who never said much at all, cleared his throat, coughed, and then thumped the floorboards with his hoof before saying, “I’m ashamed of what our barony has become. We could be doing better. This is our chance to do better. Corduroy has been nothing but good for us.”

“But what about zebras?” Hoe Hum asked.

“What about them?” Flood Gate replied. “Have you ever even seen a zebra, Hoe Hum?”

“Um, no. But I hear they have a poisonous bite. Do we really want that here?”

Cucumber trembled, his knees knocking, and Sundance sympathised with his anger. He bit his tongue, not wanting to admonish Hoe Hum for her ignorance. Now was not the time for reprimands, because he didn’t want to sabotage his efforts. If anger poisoned the mood and the opinions of those gathered, all might be lost.

“Zebras do not have a poisonous bite.” Corduroy’s voice held an undercurrent of annoyance, like a school teacher pushed a bit too far by a clueless, insolent student. “Nor can they steal your soul by looking into your eyes. Zebras are like earth ponies, in that they are universally disliked, mistreated, and cast out for no good reason.”

“Really?” Earwax’s ears rose, fell, rose, fell again, and then splayed out. “Well, that ain’t right. Not right at all. I remember when those soldiers were posted here for a bit and one of them called me ‘mudpony.’ That was rude. Telling me to do this, fetch that, why, that wasn’t nice at all.”

“Yeah.” Pea’s eyes narrowed and the geriatric gent’s face looked as though he was chewing on a lemon. “That’s not nice at all.”

“Ol’ Cucumber gave one of them a good thrashing for teasing poor Potato.”

“Old age and guile whooped ass on youthful vigour and stupidity, that’s for sure.”

“Twisting his helmet around like that broke his nose. Never seen so much blood in all my life. Left him blind, too. Ol’ Cuke knows what he’s doing.”

“But we don’t know what we’re doing.” As soon as Sauerkraut Pie said this, everypony turned to look at her. “Well, we don’t. The Milord hasn’t done us wrong and I don’t think he will do us wrong. We should trust him. Give him a chance. If he wants to make all creatures welcomed here, then we should do that. We need bodies. Workers. Nothing is in good repair anymore. All we do is make the food that feeds us, and not much else.”

Potato smiled while her eyes drifted in two very different directions. “We could be kind.”

“There is something to be said about being kind.” Cucumber cast one final side eye at Privy Pit and then began to relax a bit. “Most of us are not as kind as we should be. But we could be. We’re old, crotchety, and set in our ways—but it is not too late, so it isn’t. What we should be asking is, what would Princess Celestia want from us? She saw fit to give us a kind guardian. What can we give her in return?”

“Apples?” somepony said.

Closing his eyes, Cucumber bit his lip and chewed.

“Pears?”

This did nothing to alleviate Cucumber’s rising blood pressure.

“She likes fruit!”

“And pickles of all kinds. We pickle strawberries for tribute.”

“That mare loves her pickles. More importantly, she likes our pickles.”

“We could take in the creatures that nopony else wants,” Cucumber blurted out, and his voice caused every ear in the room to react. “Princess Celestia would like that, so she would.”

“So if we did this”—Earwax paused and took a moment to rub her broad chin with her hoof—“she’d be happy with us? That seems stupidly simple. Simple enough that a stupid simpleton could be doing it. So why haven’t we?”

“‘Cause we’re smart?”

“Shut up, Lamp Black. We’re not smart.”

“Aw—”

“Shut up, I said.” Hoe Hum waved her hoof for emphasis.

“But if stupid simpletons could do it, and we’re not doing it, then we’re not stupid simpletons. We’re something else. We’re smart. See, I’m smart. I figured it out. I’m right.”

Hoe Hum, utterly unable to make her point in any other way, smacked Lamp Black on the back of the head, a blow that might have taken the head off of any other pony, but among earth ponies, this was an affectionate love-tap, and the hollow conk of her hoof striking his skull rang throughout the room.

“I bet that smarts,” Earwig remarked.

“I feel smarter already.” Rubbing his head, Lamp Black sneered at the old mare beside him. “My brain hurts.”

“You can’t hurt what isn’t there,” Hoe Hum said to the old stallion beside her. “We all heard the hollowness. Now shut yer yap before I knock the emptiness right out yer ears.”

Cucumber, his every joint popping from strain, stood at attention. Old as he was, ancient as he was, there was still something commanding about him, an authoritative presence that demanded respect. The wisdom of a life long-lived gave him a sense of gravitas, and without a word, he quieted the room and calmed those around him.

“Most of us exist in our twilight years,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I had thought my glory days come and gone. I was a soldier in that nasty dispute of ours that tore our nation in twain. Some of you were there. Some of you lot were born after. We’ve been on the decline since the war changed our fortunes.”

Looking around the room, the ancient unicorn blinked, his ears pivoted about, facing every direction, and his proud, straight neck remained rigid. “We have one final chance for greatness. Yes, we’re old. Our time is done… but before we go, we have a final chance to show our quality. We can leave a legacy. Hollyhock and her foals will be inheriting whatever we leave behind… and that’s our covenant—to leave behind better than we got. Who remembers our covenant?”

Pea raised his head, his ears pinned back, and he said in a rumbling baritone, “I do.”

“Look at this place. Have we kept our covenant?” Cucumber asked.

Every pony present averted their eyes and looked down at the floor. Ears drooped. Tails sagged. A sense of sadness could be felt, but it could also be seen on Cucumber’s face. Ponies shuffled closer together, some touching one another for reassurance. Sundance said nothing; he felt like an outsider at the moment as he observed their grief.

“The Milord has himself a bit of vision on what to do. It’s a good vision. I’m not sure I understand it wholly, but I don’t need to understand it. It’s my job to work to make it happen. He’s earned our trust. We appealed to Princess Celestia to give us a compassionate steward—she gave us him. She found us a new Baron. So for her sake, and for his sake, and for our own sakes… with whatever life we have left in our bodies, we owe them our best.”

“Hear hear,” said Earwax while her sister, Earwig, nodded beside her.

“Let us have unity,” Cucumber continued while his eyes darted about, seeking out each face. Then, upon reaching some silent consensus, he turned to face Sundance. “Make this place welcome to all. We don’t have much time left. Help us leave something worthwhile behind.”

Bowing his head, Sundance nodded, acknowledging the solemn moment. “I’ll do my best.”

“Milord, we’ll all do our best. We owe you that. You’ve given us your best, of that there can be no doubt. I honestly believe that you have our better interests in mind, over your own, so I do.”

“Thank you, Cucumber.”

“Yer welcome, Milord, so you are.”

“No, thank you. For everything. For getting everypony to agree. To come together.” Sundance offered up the warmest smile he could muster. “Now, if I could have just a little bit more of your time, I’d like to talk with all of you on how we can move forward. I’ve had some ideas. Little ideas that might help us. Some big ideas too. So now, we need to figure out what we’re capable of, and once we’ve done that, we need to plan. For me to make a plan, I need to know what you’re capable of, and from there, we move forward. Now, I promise that I won’t bore you to tears…”

Author's Notes:

The next chapter is going to be hard to write. Just sayin'.

What do I mean by this? You'll find out.