Author's Note

This was interesting.

Enjoy!

Talks

Blueblood had been shocked at that first hoof making contact with his flank. He had stopped struggling in her lap and gone limp a moment, trying to understand what was happening. Understanding hit him- quite literally- with his next spank. Then, his fight or flight instincts kicked in, and he struggled to get away. But her grasp was unshakable. The pain was intense- enough to make him squirm, and he was unwillingly flashing back to the spankings his Father had given him as a child. When it became unbearable enough that he broke down and cried, that inner child broke through to speak.

“No! No spankies! Be good! Promise!” He said.

At that point, Mesma stopped, and realized that Bluey Bear was crying. “You’ll be good?”

“Yes! Sorry! Big sorry!” He cried. Mesma turned him over in her lap and held him until he calmed down. She hushed him.

“It’s alright. It’s over now. You are forgiven.” She said. When his crying got down to occasional sniffling, he looked up at her with big watery eyes. “Can you talk to me now?” She asked.

He nodded. “Yes.” His voice was small, like he was trying to draw himself together.

Mesma looked down at him. “Can you tell me why you were acting the way you have been today?”

Bluey Bear shifted in her lap and hiccuped slightly. “I… Not supposed to.”

“Not supposed to what, sweetie?” She asked him, rubbing his back.

“Be weak.”

Mesma blinked. “Weak? How do you mean?”

“Can’t… Feel.”

Somehow, and looking back later she did not know how she did it, she was able to piece together his train of thought. “So you think having feelings are weakness?”

He nodded. He was tired, and he didn’t want to talk right now.

Mesma only needed a moment to muse on this. “Honey, having emotions is not weakness. Everypony has them. If it weren’t for emotions we wouldn’t have music or art or even science. If we did not have emotions, every one of us, how could we maintain a society? Without having feelings to guide us, we would not know right from wrong. Feelings are there to guide us, to help us. While there are times for them to be put aside in situations like a crisis, not having them at all is dangerous for your emotional health. It doesn’t make you weak to have them. It makes you equine.”

“He doesn’t!”

She blinked. “Your father?”

He nodded. “He doesn’t have them! He just has anger, really.”

“That’s not true, Bluey Bear. Everypony has emotions. Some are just better at hiding them. But Everypony has them. And not showing them doesn’t make you strong. It just makes you… hollow.”

“Hollow?”

“Hollow. If you can’t feel anything, then there is nothing inside of you, and that just means you are an empty shell. It’s okay to feel things. We’re ponies. Everypony has feelings.” She said again.

Blueblood was silent for a very long time. He didn’t know what to say. All his life he had been taught that emotions were weakness, and that he could not show them. To be told that he could was very confusing. He shut his eyes. He didn’t want to think anymore.

Mesma sat there with him, and debated on what the next course of action should be. Clearly this had triggered something inside of him and she needed to find out what that something was. She knew that if she could understand that, perhaps she could unlock why this happened in the first place. She had sworn not to do anything to make him comply with her. She would still try and uphold that promise. But if it came down to it, she might have no choice. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

“Bluey Bear?” She asked gently. He cracked one eye open.

“You said your father taught you that emotions were weakness. Can you tell me what else he’s taught you over the years?”

Blueblood went on to speak of proper silverware placement, diplomacy strategies, and things of that ilk. It wasn’t what she was trying to get at. She asked again a different way.

“Did he teach you control?”

“Of?”

“Yourself, your emotions, anything.”

“Yes.”

“I have a very important question for you, then.”

“Yes?”

“Did he teach you control by trying to control you?”

The look on his face told her more than his words could say. His pupils dilated, his body tensed, and he exuded nervousness. “W-What?”

“Bluey Bear, If something is going on there that you haven’t talked about, I think you need to. I know it can be hard, and very scary, but no pony should ever have to live in fear. This is a safe place for you. Whatever you say in here will stay between us and your Aunt. And if you don’t want me to talk to her about a particular topic, I will respect that. I am required to report to her your behavior, not your secrets.” She said.

He stared at her like she had two heads, and he tried to process those words. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to know that these things could be spoken about. But father’s voice in his head demanded silence. He clammed up, and shook his head profusely.

“Okay, okay.” She soothed, rubbing his back carefully. “I won’t make you talk about it. You talk when you’re ready to talk. Just calm down, and focus on the rocking of the chair, alright?” She asked. He nodded a little, relieved, and abided by her request.

Eventually, he relaxed. She cuddled him a bit longer, and finally spoke. “How about a snack, sweetie?” She asked. He blinked a few times, and then nodded. She helped him up, got up herself, went to the top of the fridge and pulled out a plate of chocolate chip cookies, and presented them to him. He sat down on the crib mattress nearby, and munched on a cookie, thinking about the virtues of being silent and finally speaking.

He did not like either option.