Chapter 1 - Treehouse Blues
~~~~~The Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse~~~~~
“Bye Applebloom! Bye Sweetie Belle! Seeya tomorrow!”
Scootaloo waved, feeling a warmth in her chest as her two best friends in the whole world trotted off into the distance, feeling the smile on her face fade only a little as they ran out of sight. Ran toward their homes, their sisters, and all the luxuries therein. Sometimes, Scootaloo felt a little jealous of them - but only sometimes. Rainbow Dash had told her that jealousy was a lame thing to feel, and that cool fillies were thankful for the things they had.
To be honest, Scootaloo was actually pretty darned thankful for the things she had nowadays. The clubhouse was almost as good as an actual house in Ponyville, complete with a little stove to keep the place warm in the winter and to cook the occasional snack. Throw in a goodly supply of thick pillows and blankets brought in by the Crusaders after any number of other adventurers, and building a warm bed in even the toughest weather was foal’s play.
There was a swift and clean river not more than a ten minute walk away from the clubhouse to get clean water, and even a flightless filly like Scootaloo could get herself dry after bathing by blazing down the road on her scooter. She never lacked for things to do with her friends, and Rainbow Dash was working with her almost every other day to get her wing strength up. In comparison to what she’d been stuck doing before she met the Crusaders, life was well and truly good.
Okay, sure she had to go and filch food from the various vendors and farmers around town. And yeah, it kinda sucked around Hearth’s Warming Eve when everypony else was getting gifts from their families and staying tucked up inside their homes with their hot cocoas and stuff… but Scootaloo had been living with those things for as long as she could remember, and there was no point whining about stuff she couldn’t change. She sure as Tartarus wasn’t going back to that stupid orphanage with their stupid whiny little foals, drafty home or no drafty home.
But it wasn’t winter. It was the height of summer. As Celestia’s Sun began to dip low toward the horizon, it was time for her to go out and find her dinner for the night. Scootaloo carefully tucked her scooter over her shoulder and scrambled down the ladder that lead up to the clubhouse. Once ground bound, she pulled on her helmet and pulled her little goody bag out from its hiding place at the base of the tree.
Within the bag were what few tools she wielded in her eternal quest for eats. A thin coil of rope with a makeshift grapnel hook, little wooden containers with screw tops to hold liquid foods, and a set of lockpicks left to her by her mother. They, a single hoof-made pillow, and the tiny copper locket containing the only picture she’d ever had of her parent was all that remained of that which Mom had left her with some five years ago. The rest was still locked up in the stupid orphanage, and she still hadn’t figured out how to break it free yet. Though after losing Mom, she hadn't exactly been focused on holding on to material goods.
Scootaloo had only been eight years old at the time - just barely old enough to read and write, not even close to old enough to understand what ‘death’ meant. But Mom had been sick with something pretty bad, and there was nopony else who could take Scootaloo in. Professional thieves didn’t normally have a lot of ponies they could leave their kids with. So to the orphanage she had gone... and gone right back out again, in a style she was sure Mom would have been proud of. Scootaloo kissed the little locket which she kept hidden beneath her fur for good luck and buzzed up her wings to speed off into the night.
The food wasn’t going to wait for her to stop acting like a silly filly.
~~~~~~
Scootaloo’s first stop was always Sugarcube Corner - and not because she enjoyed stealing from the Cakes, but because Pinkie Pie was the only pony in town who knew Scootaloo’s story and was inclined to share the day-olds with Scootaloo rather than just eat them all herself. Sure enough, the Pink Party Pony was waiting by the back door with a neatly taped up white box and a big smile on her face.
Scootaloo might often express a lot of exasperation at Pinkie’s antics - heck, everypony in town did at some point - but they understood each other. Scoots didn’t expect Pinkie to be super-happy all the time, and Pinkie knew not to tell anyone about Scootaloo’s situation. They could hang out, talk a little, and both of them could decompress from another day hiding their inner selves from everypony else.
Pinkie waved at her lazily. “Heyla, Scooter-Roo,” Pinkie said with a soft little giggle as Scootaloo pulled to a stop in front of her. “Got some cinnamon spice muffins and a slightly stale loaf of banana nut bread.” Pinkie winked at her, plopping down to sit by the door and producing from seemingly nowhere a pair of glistening vanilla cupcakes with bright yellow frosting. “Annnnd a little treat to share with my bestest buddy.”
Scootaloo grinned and accepted the sugary snack - hopping off her scooter to sit next to her. “Thanks Pinkie. Long day today?” Scootaloo’s tongue darted out to savor the deep sweetness of the Cake’s signature frosting, delicately nibbling at the velvety cupcake. Pinkie didn’t often bring out the real moneymakers of the bakery, but when she did it was like a little holiday for them both.
Pinkie nodded, having long since inhaled her own cupcake - she was used to such treats, but knew Scootaloo always took her time with them. “Yeah, I’m absolutely Pinkie pooped out.” She sighed heavily, leaning against the back wall of the bakery and closing her eyes. “Ever since Twi got her wings, its been as crazy as an Everfree fruitbasket! I’ll actually be kinda happy when things die down again.” A slight smile split her face then, and Scootaloo had to chuckle. Tired or not, Pinkie was never happier when she had plenty of parties to plan.
Scootaloo lapped at her lips as she realized her cupcake was already gone - only the faint taste of vanilla and sugar as a sweet memory. Still, she couldn’t help but be a little worried for her friend. “You gonna be okay, Pinkie?” Scoots said with a quiet concern, giving Pinkie’s shoulder a friendly little punch with her hoof. “You’re not gonna fall apart on me again, are ya?”
Pinkie gave off a soft giggle and shook her head. “Nah, but I really oughta get some sleepy time if I don’t want to be too tired to take care of the twins tomorrow.” She reached out a pink limb and gave Scoots a rough little hug around the shoulder then stood up. “Be safe out there tonight, Scoots. I’ve been getting flicky ears lately.” Pinkie frowned a little, peering out into the growing shadows of the evening. “That always means something big is gonna happen.”
Scootaloo shook her head ruefully and mounted her scooter, smiling a little at her weird friend. No one smart dismissed the Pinkie Sense, but big events? Those just didn’t happen to her. “I will be, Pinkie. Thanks for the treats!” She waved and buzzed up her wings - the market would be wrapping up soon, and that was the very best time to score some easy eats.
“Bye Scoots!” Pinkie called after her as she began to pick up speed. “Remember! Flicky ears!” came a much louder call, and Scootaloo snorted a little in laughter. Oh well. No matter what big things happened in Equestria, Pinkie Pie was always gonna be Pinkie Pie.
~~~~~
Even late in the evening, the Ponyville market was bustling with business. The local shop keepers and industrial workers who ran the wood mill, along with other local artisans just quitting for the day, plied the evening market for groceries, last minute additions to dinner, or a special treat to celebrate a good day. Even if the produce wasn’t exactly as lush and perfect as it was during the day market, the night market also offered a wide array of other exotic and specialty goods that were otherwise unavailable during the day. Someponies had weird ideas as to what was, and what wasn't, appropriate for foals to see being sold.
For Scootaloo, this meant that the night market was a prime target for her special brand of snatch and grab. The ponies here were almost always more tired than the ones during the day, and the vendors more inclined to not be watching their goods quite as sharply. Grabbing a few things, especially those at the forgotten ends of the stall was a cinch for someone of her size and speed.
A cup of oats from the Quaker’s stall, a little bundle of baby carrots from Golden Harvest, a peck of mushrooms from that spooky batpony that had moved into town last month, and - much to Scoot’s surprise - a one hundred percent legit half-bottle of milk donated by Milky Way. She hadn’t wanted it to go to waste, and Scoots had promised to use it immediately. That meant tomorrow morning would be an occasion to use a little of her carefully horded supply of salt and sugar to make up a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.
The thought of her oaty treat brought a smile to her face as she banked a turn through the marketplace while staying focused on her task. She had a good dinner in the carrots and mushrooms, and breakfast and lunch covered too. But you could never tell when opportunity would strike. Especially for stuff that would store okay for a couple of days like cheese and bread, or dried beans and root veggies.
The thought of root veggies conjured up the sight of some good looking potatoes just hanging out on an empty stall - and Scootaloo grinned brightly as she turned up the speed. She’d do a driveby on this one, given that the rest of the market was closing up and she didn’t want to stick around much longer than was necessary. Little fillies found wandering around town after full dark got the attention of the town guard, and that would lead to questions Scoots really didn’t want to answer… or waste time with.
So she did one of her favorite moves - a full speed drive by, her hoof scooping the dozen or so thick spuds into her half-open goody bag, and then she was gone. She lost a couple spuds in the act, but most of them tumbled into her bag with a satisfying thump of weight as she sped off out of the market with a triumphant giggle. It was moments like these that she didn’t so much mind her thieving ways - when she had a terrific, profitable day that would keep her in tasty food for a good few days to come.
Of course, life was never ever that easy for Scootaloo.
She took her eyes off the road for just a few short seconds to check the side alleys for less-than-reputable ponies who might try to give her a problem. And in that moment, she felt her front wheel impact with something solid that really shouldn’t have been in the middle of the road - a cart. By the time she realized exactly what had happened, she was laying in the middle of the road with her groceries scattered all over the place and a feeling of ache in every bone of her body. She looked up blearily at the golden yellow sky before sunset and proclaimed quietly, “Ow.”
“Tarnation! Are you alright, Scootaloo?!” the unmistakable voice of Applejack sang into her ringing ears, causing her to wince as those big green eyes and thatch of unruly blonde mane swam into view. “Oh, ponyfeathers! I didn’t even see ya comin’ down the street.” A hoof took her shoulder and gave her a little shake, causing Scootaloo to let out a little moan of recognition as she tried to organize her scrambled thoughts. Fortunately, nothing felt badly hurt - but she had taken quite a tumble and…
“My milk!” she exclaimed, her eyes shooting open wide and her body reflexively trying to sit up. Sadly, her body was not prepared for such exertion this close to her battering, and every nerve screamed out in pain for a moment as she reflexively sat up. Scootaloo bit down the urge to cry, forcing the tears and screams back down her throat with pure willpower before letting out a gasp of air. Her eyes darted across the road and latched onto the glass bottle… miraculously, still intact.
Applejack’s hoof pressed into her shoulder. “Hold yer horses, sugarcube - your foodstuffs’re jes’ fine. You took quite the fall there - you sure you’re okay?” Applejack’s gaze was gentle and soft, and her voice thick with real concern. Scootaloo winced a little and rotated her wings, then all four limbs. She was bruised up - probably - and she’d ache really badly tomorrow, but nothing was sprained or pulled. Her helmet was gonna need some repairs though. The metal of the helmet was all dented where she’d impacted the ground, and once again she was thankful for the safety precaution.
But Applejack was still looming there, all motherly and sisterly and stuff and Scootaloo shook her head. “Yeah, thanks Applejack. I’m fine. Just gotta hurry home before dark.” She hopped up to her hooves and quickly collected her things - all of which were none the worse for wear after her tumble. Her scooter was a little dinged up and the handle was loose, but she could fix that back at the treehouse. She winced again as she hopped onto the thing, giving her wings a slower buzz to make sure they were really okay, then smiled tentatively at the elder Apple sister.
Applejack nodded. “Well alright. You git on home now, and stay safe.” There was - as there had often been - a note of disbelief in Applejack’s voice whenever Scootaloo talked about having to hurry home. But she never pursued it, so Scootaloo was content to let her think whatever she wanted to think. She waved again, and quickly took off down the road - banking down a side alley so Applejack wouldn’t see that Scootaloo’s route took her straight toward Sweet Apple Acres.
~~~~~
The world had dipped into darkness by the time Scootaloo reached the treehouse and got her things back up inside. Luna’s Moon was big, bright, and beautiful tonight - and so Scootaloo munched contentedly on one of the carrots while she watched it slowly soar into the sky. Better than anypony, she knew that Luna watched over the dreams of all the ponies in Equestria and often wondered if she kept the secrets that she might have learned in those dreams.
If asked, Scootaloo would have frankly told just about anypony how things weren’t all sweetness and light in the world. No matter what the hoity-toity unicorns of Canterlot or the oblivious farmers of Ponyville might think, she wasn’t the only foal out here on the streets making her way. Truthfully, there were only two or three others in Ponyville like her - fillies and colts who had left behind the orphanage to strike out on their own. It was a really small town, so wayward kids didn’t go unnoticed for long. Just those who had the skills to stay out of Valiant Struggle’s eyesight and away from the busybody flower sisters.
She grabbed another carrot and munched on it happily, content with her place in the world. She wouldn’t be a young filly forever, and as soon as she could get into the sky and start really flying, she could start working on her pegasus skills. Her goal, of course, was the Wonderbolts - just like Rainbow Dash was going to be pretty dang soon. But Scootaloo, after everything that had happened in her life, was practical enough to know not to give herself too many dreams.
It wouldn’t take very long after getting airborne that she could find a real job and support herself with real bits. Probably working for the weather team doing rainstorm wrangling, since there were never enough ponies willing to do the miserable and wet job. Or, if she so fancied and her skills proved to be good enough, she might just pick up where Mom had left off and become a professional thief. She had certainly learned a lot about how to be sneaky and plan a caper during her time with the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
But that was at least a couple of years away. For now, she would enjoy being a little filly as much as somepony in her place could. The carrot-sticks soon ran out, and the mushrooms were nothing more than a hearty memory shortly after. Even gently sweet as the carrots had been, Scootaloo needed something much sweeter to make up for the fact that tomorrow morning was gonna be totally miserable after her crash. Then a thought hit her, and she smiled slowly. Applejack’s cart had caused that crash - at least, in her mind it had - and what better way to get repayment than to go filch a couple of fresh apples from the trees?
A quick plan in her mind, Scootaloo rolled up to her feet and once again clambered down the ladder to the ground - trying to repress the winces at her bruised body moving in ways it probably shouldn’t have been moving. She didn’t need her scooter for this - Sweet Apple Acres was a very short walk. And even at night when dark creatures roamed the lands out of the Everfree forest, not one of them dared trespass in Apple Family lands. Not after the last group of creatures that had - that pack of Timberwolves a while back - gotten thoroughly stomped by Twilight and her friends.
Trotting through the trees in the dark should have been a scary and unnerving experience, but for Scootaloo, this was her home, and she wasn’t about to get all scared of her home being a little spooky after dark. Besides, Luna’s moon gave off more than enough light to make traversing the trees of Sweet Apple Acres a much more manageable prospect. She did a little hop over a particularly big route as she made her way to the outermost tress of the western orchards.
Here, she could see the dull shine of the bright red fruits of the farm already ripening to perfection. Best of all, out here on the edge of the orchard, a few missing fruits were considered expected rather than suspicious. Bears, bunnies, and even the occasional raccoon had been known to sneak onto the farm to filch one of the famous fruits. Scootaloo paused and had to grin at the alliteration in her head. Filching famous fruits from the farm, for fun and feeding. Heh.
She shook the laughter out of her head and eyeballed a nearby tree - her personal favorite for grabbing fruit, due to the way the bark had formed into surprisingly superb hoof holds. Climbing up the thing, even in her bruised and pained form, was as easy as drinking water out of a stream. Within moments, she’d selected a pair of large and excellent looking apples, tucked them into her goody bag, and proceeded back down to the ground with a jaunty little hum.
Which was, of course, the exact moment when the disaster happened.
A rustling sound came out of the stand of trees further in, and Scootaloo felt a thrill of fear and worry race up her spine. “Who’s out thar?” came an indistinct voice from the same direction, and the sound of hooves hitting the soft ground was enough to set her to scrambling out of the orchards and back towards the treehouse. One of the Apple Clan must’ve been out patrolling the orchards tonight! Just her bucking luck they’d be out in the western orchards at this bloody hour!
Scootaloo knew without any doubt that if she was caught by the Apple Clan, that would be that for her cozy and comfortable way of life. They’d ship her flank back to the orphanage lickity split, where all of her comfortable things and personal property would be instantly confiscated to be held until she ‘grew up’ which for all she knew meant never. They’d keep her on lockdown outside of school hours and feed her pease porridge for every bucking meal, with fresh produce only whenever somepony remembered to give a donation to help keep the place running.
Scoots had put up with that life for exactly three months before she’d run away from it - pausing only to break out a few of the hidden items she could from the orphanage’s storage rooms. She wasn’t going back there if she had anything to say about it, even if she had to do something desperate. So she ran with all the fury and strength in her body, glad for the goody bag to hold the precious apples. Hopefully - with her small size and scampering retreat - whoever was out there wouldn’t think twice about the shadow running away from them.
Moments later, she was at the Clubhouse and quickly scrambled up the ladder - rolling it back up and securing it before ducking inside and half slamming the door behind her. Her breathing came in swift and hard, burning her lungs with the effort required to keep the breathing as quiet as she could.
But when no one burst into the clubhouse after a few tense minutes, she exhaled deeply and sank down to the floor next to the door, clutching her limbs around her torso closely. That had been far, far too close. She would need to stay carefully mewed up in here for a couple of days and only go out and come in when she could do so unnoticed. The apples themselves were quickly retrieved from her goody bag, and she bit into them with great enthusiasm.
The explosion of sweet juice and firm flesh in her mouth was one of the few true pleasures Scootaloo regularly indulged in. The taste of them reminded her of the few fuzzy years she could remember with Mom - of the baked apples and cinnamon Mom would make for her birthday, since more refined sweets had been well outside of their income. Even now she could still faintly taste the treats, somewhere in the back of her mind.
Scootaloo tried really, really hard not to cry in public. In fact, she tried hard not to show any emotion other than brash overconfidence and a fierce love for her friends in public. But in the middle of the night, when nopony else was watching or could hear her sobs, she let herself shed a few tears for her Mom. She let herself feel all the anger and sadness when she saw other ponies - especially Applebloom and Sweetie Belle and all the rest of them - doing things with their parents or attending the Sisterhooves Social.
They weren’t good emotions, and she knew it. But she couldn’t bottle them up forever, and this was the best time to just let them out. Through the tears, she washed her face in the cool water of a little wooden basin she kept around for this sort of thing and carefully fluffed out her young feathers to make sure nothing was out of place. Through the emptiness of the night, she carefully piled up the sitting cushions and untangled a light sheet from a pile of them to cover herself up.
Carefully, she locked the clubhouse door with a well placed wooden bar across it and curled up into her little nest in the corner - well hidden from any casual glance through the windows - and drifted off slowly into sleep, clutching a small hoof-stitched pillow as close to her as she could manage. It still smelled like soft flowers and spicy cinnamon, just like Mom had, and just like always, the smell made it much easier for the tears to subside and sleep to whisk her away to Luna’s realms.
~~~~~~~
Sunlight shone through the little windows of the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse, and before long was shining a warm and bright light upon the curled up filly in the corner. Scootaloo felt herself dragged from the land of vague dreams and worlds of softness and light and back into the hard world of the living for another glorious day in Equestria.
But unlike every morning before this one, where she’d awoken in the empty clubhouse and carefully ensured no trace of her stay the night before remained, this morning had one very big difference to it. Sitting on a cushion and watching her with sad and deeply concerned eyes, Applejack awaited her in the middle of the room. The apple cores of her previous night’s snack were laying nearby, browned from their exposure to the air.
Scootaloo might have panicked, if she thought that panic would have done her any good. Instead, she just swallowed deeply and slowly pulled herself up from the pillows. She didn’t know what to say - or even how to react to this. The thoughts in her mind were running far too quickly along the lines of how Applejack had gotten into the clubhouse… and worse still, how she had managed to catch Scootaloo here.
But amidst all those running thoughts, Applejack’s quiet voice cut through them like a hot knife through cold butter. “I think ya’d better tell me why you’ve been livin’ in this treehouse for the past coupla’ moons, Scootaloo.”
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I like this, it's a Scootaorphan fic that's not entirely heartbreaking and it doesn't involve Rainbow Dash finding out. It's Applejack, certainly a fresh take.
3557347 .....superman?
3557347 mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw909_MLP_Celestia_giving.gif
Aw yeah. Orange ponies gotta stick together! I've been waiting for an AJ/Scoots fic ever since I saw a thing on deviantart about that.
You've got an interesting take on "orphan Scootaloo" here. At least the skills her mother taught her provide some explanation for how she could live undetected in Ponyville for so long.
Scootaloo as a future professional thief? This holds potential.
I like this. it actually reminds alot of one of my DnD characters I played once.
The narrative is a little odd. At one point I thought I was reading a 3rd person narrator, but It turned out to be Scootaloo's inner monologue. but overall it was a good read, and one I will be following for its original twist on the old Scoolaloorphan stitch.
Interesting start, that bit with Scoots mom being a pro thief was a very nice touch.
Glad I decided to read this. This seems pretty good so far, though I do not approve of scoots mum teaching her her thieving ways.
Have a feeling I know where the talk with aj is gonna go, but I'll have to read the next chapter to find out
Scootadoption fic but this time with the Apple family? I can buy into this.
A fun first chapter, with Scootaloo's mom being revealed as a professional thief and Scoots picking up on some of her skills to scavenge food from the Ponyville marketplace. And then that ending...uh-oh!
Of course, given the whole thing with Pinkie knowing, I had to remind myself of the fic premise before my mind started veering about taking off from that point with Scootaloo living with Pinkie and the Cakes instead.
The only thing I liked it's a conversation Pinkie and Scootaloo...
I certainly understand that the author felt pity for the filly and stuff. But why not just put it in a huge penthouse? And to provide the facilities at the tree house would not need. And to steal such stupid ways...
Tears are a gift from God, not the devil - they're the way we cope with the emotions we have no other outlet for. So gut-wrenching that no one ever told Scoots that.