Fillies: How do they work?
"Are you serious?" Scootaloo asked as the trio walked home. She had taken a position to the left of Echo, while Ricochet walked to Echo's right. "You sang karaoke? What song?"
"I don't even know what it was called." Echo shrugged. "Yeah, though, I sang karaoke, and it was a lot of fun."
"She has a great voice." Ricochet added.
"Still not really talking to you." Scootaloo grumbled.
"You know," Echo replied, bemused, as they approached the house, "I get that you're upset Scoot, and you're allowed to be, but your manners are leaving a lot to be desired right now."
"Gramma calls him an idiot, why can't I?"
"Because Gramma is an adult, and a changeling Queen, and a socially ignorant ninnyhammer." Echo replied plainly, nodding on the last point. "None of those things describe you, do they?"
"What's a ninnyhammer?"
"An idiot." Echo grumbled, unlocking her door.
"Oh, so I can't call Ricochet an idiot, but gramma can call him an idiot, and you can call gramma an idiot?" Scootaloo laughed sarcastically. "So then can all daughters call their mothers idiots? Because if so, I'd like to say that you're --"
"ZIP IT!" Echo whipped around and snarled at Scootaloo. She had tried her best to do what Cookie suggested and let things roll off her back, but... well, Cookie had also said that if it got too bad, there were times where a mother had to put a hoof down. This seemed like one of those times. "You're almost 13, that doesn't make you a full grown-up yet, and it certainly doesn't mean you're allowed to talk back to me."
"Why not?!" Scootaloo huffed back, frustrated and angry. "It's not like you're my real mom or anything!" She pushed her way past Echo into the house, and past her grandmother.
Her grandmother. Oh horseapples. "Hello, Mother."
"Daughter." She straightened up and cleared her throat. "So, I'm a 'socially ignorant ninnyhammer', am I?"
"Now? We're going to do this now?"
"It would seem to me that's entirely up to you."
"Hello, Queen Chrysalis, your Highness." Ricochet said quietly in an attempt to be respectful.
"Zip it, idiot."
"Okay. No." Echo shook her head. "Mother, you have your own quarters with Twilight, you can't keep breaking into my home whenever it suits you."
"I disagree." The Queen stated.
"WELL, I DISAGREE WITH YOU DISAGREEING!"
"AND I DISAGREE WITH YOU DISAGREEING ABOUT ME DISAGREEING, CHILD!"
"Mom, Dad, please stop fighting." Ricochet mumbled sarcastically to himself under his breath as he watched the fight escalate into more and more childish insults.
"Look, Mother." Echo groaned after a few minutes had gone by. "I need to sort this out for myself. I'm sorry, but you're really not helping the situation right now."
She raised an eyebrow, and walked to the door. As she stepped outside, she turned around one last time. "Well. If you're dead set on shacking up with this drone, I suppose I can't stop you. I'm disappointed though."
Echo shook her head and sighed as she slammed the door behind her mother. "I'm sorry about that, I just -- what's wrong with you?"
Ricochet's wings and ears were both drooping, his jaw slacked open a little. He blinked a couple times before coming back to his senses. "Did she just imply you and I were --"
"Yes. No need to dignify something that absurd with a response." Echo started up the stairs. "I'm going to go check on Scootaloo and see what she wants for dinner. I expect she's going to request something like 'go away', in which case I'm thinking spinach and cheese ravioli in pesto sauce? It's one of her favorites, so I'm sure she'll eat it, and even if she doesn't... well, it may not feed us, per se, but it'll still taste good. Think you could start a pot of water boiling?"
"Oh, uh... sure. Any particular pot?"
"The big one with the rounded lip and two handles on either side. Just fill it up to about 8 centimeters beneath the rivets and throw in a hoof full of salt into the water, okay?"
"All right..." He nodded. Shouldn't be that hard, right?
Echo walked upstairs and knocked on Scootaloo's door. "Scoot-Scootaloo."
"Go away."
Figured. "Not yet, no." She turned the doorknob but found that it had been locked. She sighed. "Giving you a chance to unlock this yourself. Five. Four. Three. Two." Click. "Thank you." She turned the knob again and stepped into the room just in time to see a purple tail retreat under Scootaloo's blanket. The mare walked over and sat next to the lump under the covers that was her daughter. "I'm sorry again that things are tough right now, Scootaloo."
"Leave me alone," came the plaintive cry, "I don't wanna talk."
"That's unfortunate. Guess you don't have to talk, but you're gonna listen." Echo sighed heavily. "I get that you're angry, Scootaloo, and you have some valid reasons to be. Still, part of growing up means that even when things happen that upset you, you need to keep your cool."
"You don't!"
"Not always, I'll admit." She nodded. "I'm not perfect. Still, do you know how often I have to keep it quiet and not let anypony see it?"
Scootaloo hesitated for a moment. "No..."
"Exactly. It's not fun, but it's part of being a grown-up. It's not all bad though. You get to set your own bedtime, you get to spend your own money however you see fit, you get to have a little filly to raise and try to help grow into a good mare." She smiled and patted at the lump under the covers. "Guess what, though, feather-duster?"
"What?"
"Even though you might have to keep your frustrations under wraps sometimes, you always have your mom to fall back on. I'll always listen, and I'll help if you want me to."
"... seriously?"
"Yes, seriously."
"So, like... if I had to tell you something private that I haven't told anypony else and it might make you angry, you wouldn't be angry with me?"
Echo hesitated to promise that. "I can't promise it won't upset me, Scootaloo, but if you've got something tough going on, I'd prefer to know about it. I'll always help you, even if it's a little upsetting to me."
"Okay... thanks, Mom." She poked her head out of the covers. "I'm sorry I said you weren't my real mom."
"Scoot... don't worry about it, okay? I never went through exactly what you're going through, since I'm not a pony, but... well, I've talked with some of my friends who did go through it, and I have a little perspective now. So, don't worry. Now, I'm making spinach and cheese ravioli with pesto tonight, so you'd best come when I call, all right?"
"Okay, Mom."
"Love you, feather duster."
"I love you too..." She sat up on her bed as Echo stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Echo started back down the stairs and looked in on the kitchen. Fortunately, things seemed to be intact. No fires, no messes, no utensils being used as fashion accessories. So far so good. "So, Ricochet, boiling water. How did it go?"
"Well, the water's over the heat and it's boiling, so I think it went okay."
"Good. Good. Now, go ahead and get me some ingredients..."
* * *
All in all, her first foray into teaching Ricochet how to cook -- a valuable skill for living among ponies -- was a success. She had some trouble in trying to get him to identify basil as opposed to other herbs and spices that were growing in her garden, but eventually she was able to explain it in such a way that he was able to figure it out.
The pesto was ready, and the ravioli were a minute or two from being finished at most.
"Scoot-Scootaloo! Come on down for dinner, sweetheart."
"Okay, Mom!" The reply sounded half-hearted, but Echo knew Scootaloo well enough at this point to know that was just a sign the filly had been thinking.
"So Ricochet, do you remember that thing you thought was a hat?"
"The colander, right?"
"Yes. Go ahead and grab that for me, and stick it in the sink, okay?"
"Oh. All right, sure." He smiled happily. He was finally going to see what that thing was actually for. He obeyed her instructions and waited.
"All right," she said after a minute more, "look out, hot pot coming through." She lifted it in a green aura and began to pour the pasta and water into the colander.
"Oh. Well, that makes sense! Ha!"
"Yep! Do me one more favor, Ricochet?"
"Anything." He smiled dumbly.
"Go get Scoots for me, let her know the food's ready?"
"Oh, that will go over well. Can I at least use your shape?"
"No, you may not. She's going to have to get used to you, so go on now, get the filly."
"All right, miss Echo..." He winced and started up the stairs. He knocked gently.
"What is it, Mom?"
"Uh, actually, it's me."
"Buzz off."
"Miss Echo told me to tell you that dinner's ready."
There was a long pause. "Thanks." He waited for another reply, but heard nothing. He shrugged and started back downstairs.
"Told her." He reported.
"Is she coming down?"
"Dunno, she just said 'thanks'."
Echo smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Ricochet. Just a moment." She turned her head to face up the stairs, and with a voice only a mother could muster, began to shout. "SCOOTALOO, YOU GET YOUR FLANKS DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"
"Okay, Mom, sheesh!" The muted reply rang out.
Ricochet stared at Echo with a small measure of shock evident on his face. "Never heard you yell that loudly before."
"Tartarus hath no fury like a mother's cooking scorned."
"I don't think that's the saying, is it?"
"It should be. Have a seat, Ricochet."
"Yes, ma'am." He obeyed without question, holding his hooves and wings close to his sides politely.
Echo sat opposite from him at the table after dishing out a serving to each place setting. She gently placed a napkin on her lap and crossed her hind legs, tapping one of her rear hooves in the air impatiently. "Scootaloo, we're waiting."
No verbal reply could be heard, but the sound of young hoofsteps grew nearer, until eventually Scootaloo came to the bottom of the stairs and found a seat at the table. Unfortunately, the spot that had been set for her was next to Ricochet. She considered moving her place, but knew her mother wouldn't stand for it. She sat quietly and assumed a similarly ladylike pose to her mother's, also taking the time to put a napkin on her lap. "Thanks, Mom."
"You're quite welcome. Buon appetito!"
Ricochet did his best to mimic the way in which Echo handled her silverware. He cut a piece of the pasta and sniffed it gently. It actually smelled very pleasant. He took a hesitant bite, and his eyes flew open. "This is AMAZING! I mean, it's not love, but it tastes FANTASTIC!" He beamed. "Incredible job, miss Echo!"
"Thank you, Ricochet." Echo smiled. "Is it to your liking, Scootaloo?"
"Mom, why're you acting so formal?" Scootaloo mumbled through a half-full mouth. "You're never this uptight about anything. 'Specially not eating."
"Well, forgive your mother for trying to set a good example. Forget it." Echo tossed her napkin over her shoulder and began to eat in a far less careful fashion.
Ricochet smiled widely at that. He had to admit that taking such painfully small bites, eating so slowly, and sitting up so straight while watching his tongue so carefully was beginning to get ... so boring. He began to eat with gusto. True that this food wasn't enough to nourish him on his own, but Echo had been right, it was quite pleasant to eat nonetheless.
After a few minutes of the trio shoveling food into their gullets, there came a brief rest. The pasta was gone, and all that was left was dessert. Still, nopony and noling had the wherewithal to get up and get the treat to serve.
"So... Mom...?" Scootaloo sighed.
"Yes, sweetheart?" She asked lazily, feeling a euphoric lethargy from the food.
"Remember when you said I could tell you anything, even if it made you kinda mad?"
"... yes." She drew the word out, squinting slightly.
"So... uh... what would you say if I told you I had a coltfriend?"
* * *
Twilight Sparkle sat at her favorite desk, which had been salvaged from the rubble of the library she had once called her home. She was dreadfully tired, but had a lot of work to do now that she was responsible for ensuring that the state of friendship in Equestria was well tended. Many problems occurred throughout the country which were too small to bring themselves to her attention, and so many ponies had taken to writing to the Princess of Friendship directly. She did her best to reply to each one with care and concern, but they came in with greater speed than she could ever hope to manage. She had developed a magical algorithm which sorted the letters according to their importance, and it seemed to be working quite well. The vast majority of letters she received were from ponies who had a minor problem they simply didn't want to solve for themselves.
She leaned over the desk, reading a letter at the same time as penning her response. Her head throbbed from the amount of time she'd spent pressing quill to parchment. She reread the letter again to collect her thoughts.
Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle,
My friend wants to compete in a team-based cooking competition, and has her heart set on six of our mutual friends joining us. The problem is, neither I nor any of the rest of her dream team have any cooking skill or desire to participate in the competition. We don't want to hurt her feelings, but we also don't feel like it's fair to anyone to force ourselves to spend months preparing and practicing for something we don't really want to do. How should we resolve this situation?
Thank you for your time, Your Highness.
Sincerely,
Berry Blossom
She sighed again, trying to weight the options.
"I don't get it," Chrysalis said, leaning over Twilight's shoulder to read.
Twilight, startled, teleported a short distance away, breathing heavily. "Don't do that, Chrysalis."
"I don't understand why Berry Blossom doesn't simply tell her friend that she is being a selfish fool. Why do ponies feel the need to sugar-coat everything?"
"Because, Chrysalis, some ponies are sensitive, and words can hurt if you're not careful. It's easy for a pony to misunderstand if you're too candid, and take offense."
"How are facts offensive?"
"It's not that facts are offensive, it's that ponies want their friends to believe in them. Just shooting down her friend's dream would be needlessly cruel, and could jeopardize the friendship."
"That's stupid."
"Okay, see, that right there? That wouldn't be okay."
"I didn't say 'you're stupid', I said 'that's stupid'. There's a difference, Sparkle."
"Okay, yes, but most ponies won't see it that way. If you call someone's idea stupid outright, they will assume you also believe they themselves are stupid."
"Well, they're probably not wrong, you know."
"Okay, but you're not supposed to SAY SO."
"I thought Honesty was one of your Elements of Harmony?"
"It's not that you should be dishonest with your friends, it's that it can be more hurtful sometimes to be too brutally honest than just walking up to them and saying --"
The castle door burst open, and Echo buzzed in with terror in her eyes. "Sweet merciful crap, what the hell is going through her mind?!"
"Well, I was going to say 'that it's a dumb idea' but that works too. What happened, Echo?"
"Scootaloo! Weird behavior! Crazy, unpredictable! COLTFRIEND?!"
"Okay, calm down. Breathe." Chrysalis put a hoof to her panicking daughter's shoulder. "Tell Mother what's happening, Echo."
Echo touched down and tried to catch her breath. "Scootaloo... I don't understand anything that's happening to her... and now... at dinner... she told me she... she has a coltfriend!" Echo's wings buzzed anxiously as she trotted in place a little. "I need help. I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
Twilight smiled gently. "I think I have an idea. You just need to speak to someone who's been in your hooves. I know just who can help." She pulled over a ream of parchment and began to write. "I think it's about time you met my mother, Echo."
"Oh, this should be juicy." Chrysalis' lips curled into a crooked smile. "Can't wait to see where that goes."
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AH hahahaha poor Echo.
rip echo
Ok caught up on the last four chapters. Gotta say live the story but super disappointed that there was more reprisal or confusion to Ricochet replacing Echo for two years.
Ah, the dreaded words to each and every parent ever.
At least it's good to see that Echo is helping her cool. Snrk.
Oooooh, this is going to be great.
What do you mean, Chryssie's social skills are perfect.
Queen Chrysalis vs Twilight Velvet. I always enjoy seeing how these confrontations are portrayed.
Oh no.....I know this situation....
Don't worry. We are.
ok deep breath Echo this is not the end of the world.
hum Echo meeting Twilight Velvet and possibly Night Light this is going to be interesting.
LOL every mothers panic reflex at a coltfriend xD yep- she's a mom. now.. wheres the father to threaten with pain and suffering if their scoot is hurt...(o wait, its not official yet)
Oh that'll be interesting.
7998615 Oh I bet that 'came' was indeed fantastic, Ricochet.
I just hope you remembered to clean up afterwards. XD
Sorry i just don't like this sequel. i prefer the original sequel. i feel you made conflict where it doesn't need it. this whole rebellious Scootaloo thing is turning me off. i rather you polished the original sequel then do this one. Because I just can't get into this one.
8001611 Sorry you don't like it.
I couldn't really think of anything to do with the original sequel, which is why I opted to just rewrite it from the ground up.
I understand if you don't want to read this one anymore though. Hope you have a good evening/day -- whenever it is that you read this.
Topical.
Also, this should be interesting!
RED ALERT, RED ALERT! Alright people, you know the drill, batten down the hatches, prepare the cannons, there's a ship inbound!
Ha. Ricochet was actually competent and functional for once. I was expecting him to burn a pot, and he didn't.
Scoots with a coltfriend? Considering she just moved back to Ponyville, that was quick
. Now let's see if it's somepony off the wall and out-there, instead of Rumble or Featherweight. Maybe Pipsqueak 
Echo meeting Twilight Velvet should be a bit interesting, I guess.
WHY DO THE PO-NIES HAVE HOOF HELD VIDEO GAMED BUT NOT COM-PUT-ERS OR PHONES?
meanwhile in changeling society Scoots would be congratulated for acquiring a long-term love tap!
Chrysalis is eager about something...Hell hath no fury is about to get a whole different meaning.
8000783
who wants ringside seating for the bout of the century?