//------------------------------// // The Bechdel Test 2- Eclectic Scootaloo // Story: Dames of the Tea Table // by Gabriel LaVedier //------------------------------// Dames Of The Tea Table By Gabriel LaVedier The Bechdel Test 2- Eclectic Scootaloo “Sister? Sister? Where are you? I have come on mine own time to spend sisterly moments with you. Sister?” Luna scanned around the grand throne room. She had expected to find her sister upon their shared dais. Since the uncontested reunification of the Principality, from Diarchy-in-Abeyance to a formal Diarchic Principality the throne room had been redesigned, to create two thrones of equal height, size and prominence beside one another. The primary difference was that her sister’s throne was marked with a golden sun sign, like her Cutie Mark, while her own was indicated with a silver crescent moon, as in her Cutie Mark. From the perspective of onlookers, her throne was on the right and her sister was on the left. She examined the throne and the table beside it. It was laden with scrolls and other papers, including a note. “My dear sister, Should you find this message, I want you to be aware that I am a bit indisposed at the moment. I am conducting a personal inventory of the Star-Swirl the Bearded archive. As you know, this can take a long while. Fear not, dear sister. I can still do my duties. I’m sorry if you wanted to do something. I know I should have told you, but you were otherwise occupied. I’ll make it up to you. Sincerely, your caring sister.” “Ahh sister, your dedication ever shows.” Luna smiled and shook her head in mirth. “And so many other matters vex your troubled mind. How fortunate your double in power and wit be here to aid you in your time of need, brief as it may be.” Luna dug her way through the papers and scrolls, seeing quite a few dry and perfunctory communiqués speaking of royal policy changes that did not change much at all, aside form further clarification of the State Secrets Act, which had been a point of contention for some nobles. Messages to and from nobles that had been flagged as troublesome, consisting mostly of half-finished vague threats and fawningly servile promises of improvement, marked with margin notations of disbelief in rather… spicy language. “Tsk. Sister… such gutter talk! I approve...” Luna laughed again and unrolled those scrolls whose seals were broken. Correspondences with official scholars on tedious matters concerning town histories, legal matters, and other very uninteresting things. One in particular caught her eye. The broken seal was that of Twilight Sparkle. A quick glance at the unrolled parchment confirmed it. “This be not the claw of thy famulus. This be thine own horn-born script. How deeply personal. What ist this that doth move thy liver? Trouble in thy romance? Art thou vexed overmuch by thy haphazard intended? Do not surrender! Persist! Excelsior! Thy tender closeness gladdens mine heart, granting hope that mine own mismatched match be destined to be mine…” She then read the letter itself. “Dear Princess Celestia, I’m having a bit of trouble here with the sister of my friend Rarity. Sweetie Belle has been doing everything she can to start and maintain a relationship with her friend Scootaloo. She’s had some success, having her be in a play, getting her to admit her feelings somewhat, but… she’s worried about the stability of the relationship. She has confided in me that she fears they may be too different. Thankfully, showing off how close I am to Pinkie Pie helped. But she still feels so uncertain. I worry that Scootaloo may be too uncertain about a lot of things, and too driven to extremes and brashness, to make the relationship flourish. Any advice would be useful. Thank you. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.” “Ahh, dear Twilight Sparkle… how heavy must this matter of love weigh upon thy tender heart. As thou hast found love so thou now wishest to nurture love in others, starting with this filly fair and her own mismatched match. Thou movest mine heart, though thou had no ken thou wouldst. Such uncertainties be intolerable!” Luna set the scroll down and took on a determined look. “A convocation!” Her tone thundered with the traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, and her horn glowed, simultaneously teleporting her away and sending out a call through the mana fields. - - - “So I was saying to Maple, I said, “Sure, you can do that, but really, isn’t it better to do it the right way?” Then she just went off on me.” Lime Sherbert leaned against a column, casually using her magic to clean a stained glass window depicting a gargantuan Princess Luna presiding over the night, including figures of canine-creatures drawing carts of gems towards a circle of caravans surrounding a fire ringed by dancing pony figures. The thing looked brand new. “Sure enough, Princess Celestia could taste the shortcut. She didn’t really make a big deal about it, but Maple KNEW she knew. That’s one kitchen mare that won’t be passing off mascarpone and whipped cream as real from-scratch clotted cream.” “Honestly, those kitchen folk try to pull off all sorts of things because they think nopony else is sensitive enough to notice. Remember the imitation marzipan incident? No matter how much almond extract and rose water you dump into it, we can all tell it’s just peanut meal.” Another mare, an umber earth pony with a cinnamon mane, worked on mopping the floors. She was dressed in a maid’s uniform, just like Lime. “I just look forward to guest chefs. They inject a bit of quality. Remember that Gustave LeGrand? Oooh his pastries were delicious. And I love how he changed his name for pony culture. Only problem was he didn’t give me a second look. I even did a tailflick right in front of him.” “Oh Fireclay, honey, you are DEFINITELY clopping up the wrong tree on that one. I’m not going to pass on rumors but let me just put it this way… you’d have a chance if your were fatter, a unicorn and could cook. And didn’t need a haunch-harness to give him what he wants about half the time.” “Well THAT’S a new one. Ah well, that seems to happen in the palace. Princess Celestia has a reputation for being very generous and accepting.” “She IS an admirable mare. But I am, of course, very loyal to her majesty Princess Luna. She was the one who had that Diamond Dog chef in. I have to say, I was surprised. He used such simple ingredients and made such a good meal of it.” “That’s hardly a surprise. You heard him. He was using Zaldi-grown ingredients. That stuff is magic on its own. But yea, you’re right. That wasn’t bad. Princess Luna seems to like giving underdogs like that a chance.” Fireclay thought a moment, looked around and said, “No offense.” “Rose Topaz is up polishing mirrors in the guest quarters. No worries there. I had no idea you were sweet on her, too.” Lime hid a chuckle behind a hoof. “No! I am merely being polite, aware and emotionally sensitive to potential offense.” The umber mare paused a moment and added, “But for being so short she’s kind of cute.” “You think everyone is cute. But I can’t really say much about anything, after all I-” Lime was cut off by a sudden flash before her eyes coming from the tip of her horn and the writing of the words, We Convene in the air. “That’s for me. I must attend to her majesty at once. This thing’s clean enough anyhow.” “Wow. Even being called for is antique. Have fun dusting the ancient knickknacks or whatever it is you keep having to do. There’s a pool about that among the maids and stewards. I put a few bits on being a warm body she can blab at, plus having to sit through that old theater junk she likes.” “A little something like that. Catch you later. Oh yea, you missed a spot.” Lime grinned to herself as Fireclay looked around quickly, trying to figure out which identical spot of floor she had bypassed. - - - Fleur shifted uncomfortably. Another stuffy meeting of rich ponies. And she could not refuse to attend because Upper Crust was also in attendance and she HAD to show up at places where Upper Crust appeared. Her prominence was at stake. Memories were short, contempt was long. She sipped at a bland cup of tea, longing for Princess Luna’s personal blend and staring with veiled contempt at the pitiful snacks on offer which had barely been picked at. She knew well her new thickness was looked on with an askance glance, despite the fact that Princess Luna was sporting it; they still held to the primacy of Princess Celestia, as foolish as such a thing was. “So, miss de Lis, have you any new subjects for our conversation? Surely you must have FASCINATING topics; if reports are to be believed you have seen more of the terraces of our fair metropolis than any of us.” The host for that particular party, Porcelain Shine, spoke with a smile on her slightly-older face. She seethed. Upper Crust smirked and gave a small wave of her hoof. Fleur inhaled and exhaled, calming herself. She was bigger and better than Upper Crust. She could rise above such a petty bout of gossip and petulance. She put on a pleasant smile and nodded. “Oh yes! I do indeed. So, I was having a conversation with an insider at the palace…” She let that sink in, savoring the change in attitude. The other ladies leaned in slightly, while Upper Crust scowled. “We decided that it would be a general good for the nation to decentralize distributions, to create a system that broke down traditional node-based transport and shipping which gave undue prominence to distribution-center-containing communities and which inhibited the growth and fortunes of smaller and oddly-placed communities. Also we should consider airships and other air-based transport to directly serve pegasi and not leave them at the mercy of ground-based distribution… networks… as we do… now…” Fleur’s words tapered off. She had clearly lost the audience. They were giving her blank stares, and stood like statues. Even Upper Crust looked fairly gobsmacked. “Well… ladies I believe this is a good time to pause to attend to any small matters…” Porcelain smiled pleasantly and rose from her seat, prompting a mass of copied moves. Fleur was the last to rise, coming up slowly with ponderous motions and sharp thoughts. Vapid, thoughtless imbeciles. They wouldn’t know intelligent conversation if they were paid to! As Fleur thought that she stalked away to a secluded spot to fume. At that moment her horn suddenly came alight, a burst of magic catching her notice, along with the magically-written words, We Convene. “Ah! The day improves.” “And just what do you mean by that? And what was that flash just now?” All of a sudden Upper Crust was there, looking both smug and nosey. “Just a little something reminding me that I have pressing matters to attend to. Please extend my regards and apologies to Porcelain Shine, but I just remembered that I am tardy for an appointment at the palace. Do excuse me.” Fleur gingerly, but unhesitatingly, pushed past Upper Crust, towards the front door. “Oh, come off it, you don’t have business at the palace! Why you’re as transparent as that impudent little pretender that swooped in here before. You have even fewer palace connections than that seamstress bumpkin, so don’t try to put on airs with me!” “Ask at the palace. Check with her majesty Princess Celestia’s head gate guard, Cavalier Golden Stare. He can confirm I am a visitor of some frequency. But, I cannot stay here and gabble with you. Ta-ta, Upper Crust. Have fun!” With that, Fleur sashayed out, leaving the other mare gritting her teeth. - - - “Hello, uncle Rosy. Is uncle Glarey up at the front gates waiting for Fleur?” Lime fell into position beside her uncle-in-law, smiling a bit at the fact that the mention of his husband’s nickname brought up the blush a touch more. “Come on, you know he hates that nickname, Limey-wimey! How would you like it if I called you Froggy-face, like he used to?” The slight, white Pegasus smiled aside at his niece, watching her look playfully indignant. “I would have to call you Tomato-face. Hmmm, uncle Tomato-face and uncle Glarey. That sounds like a foal’s book. I should write that. Put in some cute illustrations, get it promoted on some of the better television shows and magazines, it could be a great foal’s primer for accepting Colt Cuddlers. Worth looking into, don’t you think?” “There are a few books like that. But one more couldn’t hurt. Equestria needs to move on. It can’t just be the folks in Canterlot that are enlightened, and then just because Princess Celestia is here. But you should ask Golden, even if he’ll probably tell you not to bother. I swear, he’s just so hard to handle sometimes. Just glad I figured out all his ticklish spots to make it easier…” “Oh! Oh! Uncle Rosy! Too much info and then some! Please save my innocent ears from knowing stuff like that about my uncle.” “Ears? Well, that’s actually the third favorite spot, just behind the cup and down with just a little pressure while…” “Aaaah! No! No!” Lime shook her head and waved one leg, trying to block the image out. While Lime was desperately trying to shut out images of her uncles making out, the previously-mentioned Golden Stare was standing at the front doors to the palace, watching Fleur pull up to the front gates in a hired carriage. “Her majesty is expecting you, as you probably knew. Please, come with me.” “Thank you kindly for the escort, Cavalier Golden Stare. But I know the way to her majesty’s preferred chamber.” Fleur smiled pleasantly to the upright guardian. Golden smiled a bit. “It’s my pleasure. As you can imagine, there are some disadvantages to being THE front gate guardian… with my husband, of course. I relish any variation. Besides, her majesty has chosen a new chamber this time, for some “emergency” as she says. It’s upstairs, in one of the guest quarters.” “An emergency, you say? Sounds serious… Please, lead on!” She was glad for the break from the horrid party. But an emergency? What could she do? And what was the nature of the emergency? - - - “My Dames, there be an emergency!” Luna spoke in the traditional Royal Canterlot Voice, projecting waves of sound at the two mares, blowing back their hoods before they had a chance to push them back following the invocation. The three had convened in a shadowy room filled with covered lumps, curtains drawn over the windows and all the normal appointments of a bedroom pushed haphazardly to the side. “Y-yes, so we were informed, your majesty. I went all the way to the regular meeting place before uncle Rosy came to get me.” Lime looked rather shaken, despite being well experienced with the Royal Canterlot Voice. “You saved me from a most tedious party. However, if this is so serious… I got a carriage using the royal envelope I had for extra speed. Please, tell me, wh-what is happening?” Fleur was more concerned by the nature of the emergency rather than the slamming rush of air. “There be a critical emergency of the heart!” Luna opened the curtains to flood the room with light, revealing little more than before but making the atmosphere less oppressive. “And we, I do believe, may hold the physic to cure this most loathsome ague.” Silence reigned. Had a tumbleweed chosen to blow through neither stunned unicorn mare would have found it at all unusual or inappropriate. It took them a while, but Lime was the one that finally spoke. “A… love emergency?” “Most certainly, Dame Lime! What could be more vital than matters of the heart? Surely we all, out of most in the whole of Canterlot, may appreciate the matters of love and sadness at the lack.” Luna looked at Fleur and Lime with a hairy eyeball, both mares dropping their heads slightly in chastisement. “Begging your majesty’s pardon. Of course love is important. Most important! And as I said, you rescued me from a tedious party AND allowed me a moment of smart triumph over Upper Crust. There’s nothing finer than a clear victory over a terror like her. I actually feel in a mood to be a help today.” Fleur sat back with a casual, broad smile. “I was gossiping with Fireclay and polishing your majesty’s new window. And a lovely thing it is. Your night has never looked finer. And it was very kind of you to include Diamond Dogs and Roa. After so much dismissal they deserve something like that.” “Most gracious of thee, Dame Lime. Yes, the royal glaziers did question mine inclusion of such ‘lowly’ beings. Oh such words did I say! I did break body and soul with lashing of mine eely member! Such as they, the Diamond Dogs and Roa need all notice they may receive from such as we, that they may be brought above the lowly position foisted ‘pon them by low-minded highborn.” “Hear hear!” Fleur shouted, suddenly. Lime leaned into Fleur‘s personal space, brow quirked curiously. “Ummm… Dame de Lis? Aren’t you ‘highborn’? Surely much more than me, and as much as anypony without a peer title stapled onto their inbred pedigree.” “Yes, but I am not a LOW-minded highborn pony. You must realize by now my mind is both high and broad, enough to listen to swing and joust and play one-on-one rugby. I am the kind of mare nobles despise. The rich too. What do you call them, your majesty?” “Bombast-cotton-candle queans and golden calves.” Luna said, with a slight laugh. “I am none of the above. But I think we’ve moved slightly off topic.” “Yes indeed, your majesty. Please, do tell us of this love emergency.” “Of course, Dame Lime! It was intimated to me via private message that there was trouble in Ponyville, concerning a matter close and dear to the heart of miss Twilight Sparkle…” “Oh no, majesty! Not Miss Sparkle! I thought her romance was so certain! She had been considering how last names were to be meshed and all.” Lime clapped both hooves to her mouth, eyes wide and shining. “Oh my word. This most certainly is an emergency. A rift in the Elements, and between two who seemed so sure.” Fleur shook her head and stiffened her back. “Let us do what we must to repair this dreadful split.” “Nay, my Dames, nay. Cool thy choler and thy blood and raise thy phlegm. ‘Tis no rift so great as between Miss Sparkle and Miss Pie. They be well ensconced in the gentle pinions of pure love. The rift be betwixt a young charge of the inimitable young mage and her filly love. A filly by name of Sweetie Belle, sister of the elegant Rarity, hath much sorrow in her romances with one brash filly by name of Scootaloo.” The other mares nodded their heads and smiled a bit, Lime noting, “Oh! Well that’s different. Filly love is a lot more flexible and can survive these little bumps. Still, if it was noted, there must be some problem of some measure of seriousness. I suppose it really would be our duty to help. What does your majesty suggest?” “The solution be most elegant. As this Sweetie Belle doth have benefit of her sister and miss Sparkle, it falls to we three to find this figure known as Scootaloo and bring her to this place. And it happen our actions succeed then how well will we be regarded by they two, in secret, forsooth.” “But what advantage would there be in bringing her here?” Fleur looked around, mostly taking in the cloth-covered objects and the furniture pushed to the side. “In the main, we shall have an opportune moment to instruct her, that she may reck her responsibilities in matters of love. There be other considerations but let that pass for the nonce. Afore the feast, the cooking; afore our actions, the bringing. Come, my Dames! We travel in the most expedient fashion we may possess, by thaumatic means. To me.” Luna opened her wings, taking Fleur and Lime beneath them. Once they were folded against the mares Luna’s horn glowed with great power and then all three vanished with a surge of light. - - - “Hey Scootaloo! Y’all gonna come ta Sweet Apple Acres?” Applebloom cried out across the schoolyard towards her orange friend, Sweetie Belle looking on hopefully from nearby. “Uhhh… n-nah. I’ve gotta practice my tricks and do my flying exercises. Rainbow Dash says I need to work on my upward thrust and not just the forward I use for my scooter.” Scootaloo smiled insincerely, looking to Sweetie several times but not lingering too long. "O-ok. We'll see you later, Scoots." Sweetie smiled too broadly and turned to trot off with Applebloom. Scootaloo slapped her forehead and shook her head. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid...' She looked over to the schoolhouse to see Cheerilee looking over at all the departing students and making certain they all got safely out of the schoolyard. It was just a little longer before she could get home to her fiancée. Scootaloo thought miss Cheerilee was lucky. She had a pretty mare that was just perfect for her. They were matched in every possible way. She and Sweetie were as different as possible. What was she even thinking about? It was dumb of her to think anything could really come of it. When Cheerilee married Toola Roola it would be perfect. She’d never have anything like it. The distraction of self-loathing and uncertainty blinded Scootaloo to her surroundings. She actually missed the flash of light and thumbed rather strongly into the suddenly-present figures in the Ponyville road. “Ow! Hey! Watch where…” The comment stopped, dead, as Scootaloo noticed that her interrupters were a trio of figures, two of them very tall, though one taller than the other, wrapped in dark, embroidered cloaks with their faces concealed in darkness. “Scootaloo!” Cheerilee shouted desperately as the mysterious figures grabbed the small Pegasus filly, vanishing with a sudden flash of light. When it had cleared nothing remained save a fallen scooter, a roll of parchment and a bulging pouch. - - - Another flash and all four females were in the castle room again. But Scootaloo did not know she was in a castle room. She really did not know anything at all. She was just looking up at the trio of hooded figures with a wide-eyed trembling. “Wh-what is this? What’s going on? Don’t hurt me.” “Hurt ye? Aye, nay! Shalt we not bring injury to thine innocent form, young wight. We seek only gifting thee of thine earned deserts. And shall we teach thee to reck thy needs in thy matters of the heart that thou shalt be worthy of thy deserts.” The tallest figure spoke with a surprisingly soft voice, though her face was still concealed in an artificial darkness. “Uhh… what?” Scootaloo ceased her fearful shaking and just looked up at the three ponies with utter confusion. “Please, allow me, majesty.” The green mare spoke to the tall one, then looked down with her concealed face seeming to…smile. “Now, little filly. Don’t worry. We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help you! We have heard, though private sources, that your romance isn’t going so well. So we thought we could give you a bit of assistance.” The confusion deepened, and was joined by a deep blush and a slight flutter of wings. “R-romance? I don’t… I mean yea I… I kinda have a crush… wait! That’s no business of some creepy strangers! Let me out of here! I have to go practice my flying.” The three figures looked between one another then back down at Scootaloo, the tallest one speaking again. “Aye, as presumed. She doth play her breeches role according to the inches she doth lack. Truly, the errand be great before us. But worth each bit of pain for future gain. Very well. We begin!” There was the flash of magic from under the hood and suddenly all the covers came up off of the lumps, revealing a great number of mannequins, dressed in all styles of clothing, from ancient to modern. As well, there was revealed a well-stocked makeup table, and the door to the bathroom, which looked very steamy. “Dame Fleur, thou hast the skill, lead us in this endeavor.” “Alright…” The white figure slowly strolled around Scootaloo slowly, clearly tracing her with a critical eye behind the magical concealment. “A bath must come first; scrub, preen, condition, the whole thing. After that we can start on all the other parts.” The tallest, the leader, lifted Scootaloo in the grip of her magic and carried her to the steaming, sweetly-scented bathroom. “Come! We shall lave her here, for ‘tis a passing fair mockery of the palace health baths, with all sweet herbs and unguents as may be found.” “Wait a minute! Can’t we talk about this? I don’t need a bath! I just had one five days ago!” The tub of warm, scented water approached ominously. “I’m not even covered in tree sap!” The protests fell on deaf ears, and she was finally dunked, a bubble of magic keeping her capable of breathing. “No need to be too harsh. Yes, she is very… fragrant, let us say. But it comes of rushing about on her conveyance, I would imagine, and her generally coltish-seeming nature. Use the medium-firm sponges and plenty of the scented soap.” Fleur lifted a sponge and vigorously worked up suds with scented liquid soap, then attacked Scootaloo’s squirming body with it. There was not much in the way of commentary, except for the occasional squeak and yelp from Scootaloo. Her body was cleaned from snout to tail and ears to hooves, save for more “personal” areas which were pointedly ignored and even hidden with black domes of artificial night. Her wings were gingerly cleaned and the feathers put into proper place, with loose ones picked out and the support structures carefully massaged. Mane and tail both received thorough shampooing and an extended session of conditioning. The action concluded, all three used their magic to dry Scootaloo off with great speed. The green mare nodded in seeming satisfaction. “Perfection. Shall we move on to more details?” “Aye, Dame Lime. She be perfumed sufficiently well. She doth lack only the artificial touch of paint and powder. Tush… to believe I once did make light of such. How swiftly doth love change thought on such. But in the main, I believe the fine mares of Canterlot avail theirselves overmuch of rosewater and rouge, that they do shame cats and drabs as the divers lot may be called. But let that pass. A touch and dash be sufficient to draw out natural beauty. Let us empower her true beauty that she may ensorcell her intended.” “Subtitles! I need subtitles! Somepony! Anypony! Stop the insanity!” Scootaloo Squirmed in the magical grip, finding herself suddenly in front of the makeup table. “Awww mane, it was bad enough when Rarity did this for all three of us. I didn’t even get a ‘putting up with stupid stuff’ Cutie Mark.” “The key is subtlety. As her majesty mentioned, the finer ponies, especially the hereditary peers, seem to believe they need to slap it on with a knife. It’s like they empty out every shop.” Fleur began to work, applying light dustings of sweetly-scented powder. “Indeed, indeed. It seem as if every part of Canterlot doth own a piece of the high-terrace ladies. We must use caution, lest we make this youngling naught but one more peruke-clad punk.” Eyeliner gently slid along around Scootaloo’s eyes, her head held almost unnaturally still by several magical grips. “Perish the thought, your majesty. It’s all about the little things that make this most effective.” Lime lightly brushed shadow over Scootaloo’s eyelids, the shade just a touch brighter than her normal color and with a different tone. “Too true. Just a little brush and touch can do so much it is almost like a magic that every mare and comfortable stallion can enjoy.” Fleur brought a mascara brush to bear against Scootaloo’s lashes, thickening and lengthening the tomboyish things. “I think that should do. She lacks the face for false lashes. This is perfect.” “This didn’t take long at all. I suppose having three mares working on it makes all the difference.” Lime added a thin line of light lipstick along Scootaloo’s lips. “I wish I had so much care and attention when I was a filly. Not that it would have changed much but being pampered is a great delight.” “So it be… and, my Dames, the filly… hath been made artificial.” Princess Luna, for it really could be no other, stood back from Scootaloo, who was looking at herself in the mirror. “Shall we to her mane or tire her in fitting raiment afore we begin to tend her mane?” “Oh mane… how am I supposed to do all my tricks like this? Maybe if there was more I could go back to that glam rock thing I had at the talent show. Can you slap on some more? And throw in some lightning bolts. And flames. And a big falcon! Named Baron von Awesome!” “Tush. Now she doth not appear as a costermonger she would ask we make her as a harlequine. Cool thy blood, youngling. We make thee not a minstrel but a troubadour. And it become thee, Dames, we coiffure her anon, that she be properly arrayed and her mane fit it when it is tended.” “A most excellent notion, your majesty. Now I favor the more semi-modern dress. Clean lines, proper ostentation, a touch of showiness that accents the understatement in the face.” Fleur began to flip through the dresses, noting the selection that seemed to have been drawn at random from shops and storage. “I think that, in some sense, her own wishes ought to be considered. Ah, to a degree. Now, I never dress in this fashion myself, but I do tend to enjoy it when I see it. The Nightmare-Filly style, as perfected by the Neighponese. Clothing from a period a few hundred years after your majesty’s… absence, combined with a certain darkness and intimidatingly-sharp style, perhaps with odd touches like bat and spider motifs.” Lime flipped through dresses in black, dark purple and deep red, with plenty of velvet, lace, crepe, organdy, and various other diaphanous materials. “A fair choice, Dame Lime, and do I well favor those things of a nocturnal or crepuscular bent. However, I know mine own time and I know mine own tastes. The filly shall be arrayed in brocaded satin and silk, metal-firmed corsets and ruffled collars. Have we sufficient layers? There be subtle variation that doth let many layers be worn.” Luna examined a filly-sized corset and a ruffled collar of rather great size. “Oh hay, no wonder ponies are always worried about foalnapping! This is a nightmare.” Scootaloo looked miserably at the three cloaked mares flipping through dresses and examining the various combinations of accessories and styles. A mare like Rarity or… Sweetie… might find the whole prospect exciting. But it was all just more mareish mush as far as the young filly was concerned. “Say now… I’m no glamour mare and I’m certainly not born into style but… couldn’t we combine some of the elements together? Not mix and match them but take elements from one and apply it to another so we get them fully integrated. That’s one of the strengths of Nightmare-Filly, the elements can be added to other styles.” Lime held up a black lace collar that had been ruffled in the style of the archaic attire. “What a brilliant notion! You majesty, can you alter colors and styles as needed?” “But of course! This be a trifle to one as I. Direct this power, my Dames, let us aid this filly and give her heart’s desire.” What proceeded then was a cheerful unification, various dresses of the three styles changed in color and shape, adjusted and tweaked, together with accessories like puffed shoulders, bat pendants and jewelry-bedecked tiaras. It actually started to get boring, with Scootaloo idly tapping on the floor and buzzing her wings to try and get some lift. “Is this what happens in a foalnapping? Boredom and makeovers? Or was this kind of a dare at a slumber party or from a sorority?” The three mares looked between one another, not saying anything for a long while. “The… nature of our convocation be occult; fully sub rosa. Suffice to know we are in thy camp, to create thy opportunities to perfectly woo thy filly love.” “W-woo!? I remember that word from all those mushy romantic comedies Rarity likes to watch and read and listen to on the radio! That means to do dumb stuff like write poems and play music and dance like an idiot. I’m not going to do that.” “Aye, art thou not to gambol and croon. Shalt thou act as a proper gentlefilly. To gain thy place with this fine filly, there be rules.” “But that’s not important. Looks count for a lot. After that, well, things ought to be smoother. Presumably.” Lime looked at a very bright blue corselet, and considered it carefully. “Your majesty, Dame Fleur… I think I’ve had a notion.” - - - Constables had been called in immediately after Cheerilee had raised the alarm. They had noted the leavings of the scene but merely cordoned them off to wait for more information. Scootaloo’s parents had been called in immediately, the Pegasus couple talking with a constable well away from the scene to reduce the possibility of breaking down emotionally. The six Elements of Harmony were at the scene, to provide moral support to the family and, more importantly, support for Sweetie Belle and Applebloom, who were holding onto each other for comfort. Rainbow Dash was trying to comfort the parents with talk of Scootaloo’s strength and awesomeness, to assure them Scootaloo would escape. With a bright flash of light all attention was focused on the spot from which Scootaloo had vanished. When the light faded and eyes could see Scootaloo was revealed, but in a far different form from the one she had when she had vanished. Her face was made-up, in a perfect, fashionable and subtle form that made Rarity gasp from pure appreciation. Her visible parts were perfectly cleaned, which was notable on the filly. Her mane had been laid low into a kind of pageboy cut, with the bangs slanted and pointed in one direction over one eye, and a dark purple streaking added as highlight. The real shock was on her body. She wore a fairly ordinary and contemporary dress cut down to the floor with long, straight sleeves, in an attractive shade of dark purple. Going up and around behind her head was kind of an extended collar in purple lace in a spider-web-like pattern that grew lighter as it went up. At her throat was a bat-shaped clasp inset with blood red jewels. Cinched around her midsection was a blue-black corset, laced lightly with deep burgundy strings, made of brocaded silk featuring an almost-unnoticeable motif that resembled Princess Luna‘s new stained glass window. At first there was nothing more than shocked staring, for many reasons. By and large there was merely surprise over the sudden appearance of the filly that had been presumed spirited away to never be seen again. Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applebloom and Sweetie Belle, additionally, were shocked and astounded by the appearance Scootaloo presented. After the shock had worn off there was a rush of ponies towards the scene, primarily constables, but also Scootaloo’s parents and Rainbow Dash, creating a smashing wall of words and attempts at demanding her attention. Sweetie Belle looked on at the confused Pegasus filly with complete shock. It was… a magical transformation. She was like something out of one of Rarity’s fashion magazines, or out of those thick books she imported from Neighpon. Everything was perfect and she looked amazing. The filly looked aside at her sister and quietly asked, “Rarity, do you have a hoofkerchief?” “What was that? Hoofker..? Oh yes, of course. You know I never go anywhere without a few, dear. You never can tell when they will be needed. Here you are. For what do you need it?” Rarity absently handed over an embroidered satin square of cloth. Sweetie didn’t respond, she just dashed through the gathered throng to Scootaloo, whose eyes seemed to lock in on hers like magic. “S-sweetie! Hey ther… I mean… Hello there, uhh… milady. It is a great… umm, honor to have you come to me. What to honor owe… to what do I owe this honor?” Scootaloo smiled, with a nervous flush, almost unnoticed behind her paint and powder. Sweetie said nothing, at first, just bringing the cloth up to wipe at Scootaloo’s face. Even dry, the cloth wiped away the makeup well enough, smearing it a bit but taking more of it away than remain smudged on the confused face. “Come on, Scoots… that’s not you. You hate this kinda stuff.” “Heh, yea, I really do. I mean, I LOVE the Nightmare stuff, but it’s too… mareish for me. But I thought you’d like it. It’s why I didn’t just tear it off. It’s like all that stuff in Rarity’s fashion magazines. And her big comic books.” Sweetie actually blushed, looking shyly at the ground. “You… you did all this for… me?” Her characteristic voice crack made the question all the more touching and added a dash of extra sweetness. “Uhhh, well… it was kinda out of my hooves. But even if it embarrassed me, I did it all for you. I figured it would be nice, and that you’d be… closer to me.” Scootaloo blushed deeper, the coloring finally noticeable under the wiped-away and smeared makeup. “Scootaloo… you didn’t need that. I liked your old style. You were so cool and awesome when you were zipping around on your scooter doing all kinds of tricks. So great…” There was a sudden flash of light once more, and a slight shove of magical waves that pushed on all the grown ponies. The cloaked figures were once again around Scootaloo, and the green one spoke up, “Terribly sorry, we made a horrible mistake. We’ll just be a moment.” With another flash, they were gone. - - - “Oh woe and waning! We did make fools of ourselves with a mistake so basic we may well wear cornuthaums as chastisement for our folly.” Luna paced up and down the chamber, shaking her head sadly. “This isn’t a problem. At all. We know better this time. The filly in question did not desire a mirror image of herself. She wanted a counterpart. As she is a very mareish filly, she desired a greatly coltish filly of her own, to provide a proper contrast. We made only a small mistake. We can fix this.” Fleur was already shuffling through the clothes, finding, at last, colt clothes. “I am so sorry about this matter. It was just a little goof on our part.” Lime was quickly but carefully stripping Scootaloo from her hybrid clothes, casually throwing them aside then going after her face with a damp cloth. “Now what are you going to do to me? And is it going to take too long? I’m really not scared of you anymore, but I’m getting REALLY bored and annoyed and I’d like to get back to Swee- Ponyville. Ponyville.” Scootaloo sulked by a window, looking out over the terraces of Canterlot. It was a nice view, to be sure. She might have appreciated it more if she hadn’t been bored out of her mind and thinking about Sweetie wiping at her face. “Be patient, little one. Hast thou not conception of the labour we take to thy benefit?” Luna rubbed Scootaloo on the head, with a bit of condescension in the action. “Dame Lime, we bow to thy experience. The tiring of young lords and rural colts be not suited to the taste of these modern fillies.” “Indeed, her majesty speaks the truth. I know how to dress young colts. In little suits and ties and tuxedos. But you, oh you have lived in the lower terraces and seen the more rough-and-tumble colts. I’d imagine you’ve seen many magazine spreads on the subjects, as well as television and movie depictions. Your experience is to be the driving force.” Fleur bowed grandly and then began to take up various articles of clothing in her magical grip. “Oh my. No pressure, right?” Lime chuckled nervously and tugged at the neck of her cloak. “My word, your majesty. You certainly got a good selection. How much did all of this cost?” “Tush tush, my Dame. ‘Twas not a purchase ‘pon the royal credit. ’Twas a consignment purchase. A wickedly perfect example of politic. I did promise sale of these articles, or return of same; and I shall sell these items to boutiques and private parties as genuine raiment of the palace. I do believe the negotiated price shall be easily surpassed.” “Ha! And that is why you lead our number, your majesty.” Fleur nodded her head and began bringing the clothing over to Lime. “Are any of these suitable to your purposes?” Lime looked the clothing over with a slight tilt of her head, shuffling through the selections handed over to her. “Oh yes yes. This should suit us well, if we can have your majesty’s assistance in altering the coloration and some of the style. Isn’t this a bit ironic? We went away from the coltish feeling and even discounted the desire to become a glam-rocker in face paint and shocking mane. Now, we are in no way going to give that a go. But we’re giving her a style that says, in no uncertain terms, ‘I’m a tomcolt, you’d better accept it.’ That should appeal to the need for a counterpart.” “It shall be so. Fear not, youngling. We shall return thee to thy beloved Sweetie Belle… oh! I do mean, Ponyville.” Luna laughed musically, then turned her attention to the clothing. - - - The constables on the scene at Ponyville had finally gotten around to looking at the pouch and the parchment. The pouch, they found, was bulging with bits, a significant amount of them. The parchment was almost a museum piece, as far as the content was concerned. The script within was formal and flowing, written in both an archaic hoof and dialect, the black ink artfully emphasized with little touches of gold. ‘Gentlefillies and Gentlecolts, Guardians of this Filly or the Parents thereof, be not affrighted, thy charge hath not been taken in malice. In the grand and ancient tradition, a Royal Matter hath been declared that doth require the presence of this Filly. As the Tradition demands, the Inconvenience Fee hath been delivered; failure to transmit this currency unto the Parents shall be punished by applicable Royal Law.’ At the bottom was the generic, but magically non-forgeable, seal of the Equestrian Diarchy, giving the parchment the force of royal law. The constables, with no other options, took the bulging bag of money to Scootaloo’s parents, the confused pegasi accepting it with some disbelief, but more confusion. The message was vague. And having seen the result of the initial foalnapping, almost ludicrous. A sudden makeover was a royal matter? Another flash washed over the scene, to reveal Scootaloo yet again. This time she seemed herself but… more so. Her mane was teased out and slightly spiked, looking intentionally messy. Her attire was far from ordinary, despite seeming to suit her. She was wearing badly-distressed nearly-white blue jeans, a tattered t-shirt from a band popular around twenty years before, and over that a heavy flannel jacket. Though the makeup was gone, there was a slight touch of liner, to give her slightly-sunken-looking eyes. This time, none of the constables dashed in, nor did Scootaloo’s parents. Sweetie Belle was the only one that trotted up to the other filly, looking her over. “’Sup, Sweetie? You like the new look? I’m totally dangerous and bad news. I’m a total badflank, into action and thrashing in pits with loud music and am just the right kinda tomcolt to look good next to you, pretty filly.” Her spiel over, Scootaloo gave an awkward wink and a click of her tongue. Sweetie shook her head, half in disapproval and half in frustration. “Scootaloo…” “No, huh? Come on, tell me what would work. I don’t wanna go in for another makeover. And if you don’t get specific I’m guessing they can do it all day.” Sweetie came in close to Scootaloo and slowly slipped off her flannel jacket, dropping it to the ground. “It’s not this.” The shirt came off next, Sweetie using it to wipe the liner from Scootaloo’s eyes. It’s not anything. I don’t like a style. I just… I…” “Yea? Come on, tell me…” Scootaloo took off the jeans herself, then rubbed a foreleg over her head to replace her spiked style with her normal mane style. “I just like you.” Sweetie blushed deeply, turning her head away slightly. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, I know you liked me, you said you loved me. But you just… you kept saying things about boring sweetness and things being too mareish like it was bad.” “That’s just how I am, Sweetie! You know I think mushy stuff is boring. I like speed and action, like Rainbow Dash does. But you know… even Rainbow Dash slowed down and got engaged. I mean, she got engaged to somepony that was cool and awesome enough for her. Applejack was the only one that could have been good enough for her. And…” “Yes?” “You’re… you’re the only one cool enough for me. You’re so cute and pretty, but you can sing really, really well, and you’re strong enough to stand up to your sister and do really neat stuff in an obstacle course. Yea, you’re really mareish. But that just makes you so much cooler when you show off your AWESOME side. I should tell you I love you more often, and make sure you know it. That way… you’re happy. And I don’t get swooped up to get a makeover.” Sweetie Belle trotted in and rubbed her head against Scootaloo’s neck, finishing with a kiss on her throat. “As long as I know for sure.” Scootaloo smiled, standing up proudly and throwing her chest out. “For sure, I love you.” Down a semi-dark alley, enhanced with artificial night, three hooded figures tilted their heads and listened to an amplified version of the romantic admission. “Dames, this day may we claim victory! By our divers faults did we expose the beauteous truth and bring love!” “Indeed, indeed, majesty! I was quite worried when even our talented Dame Lime could not draw out love. But over all, giving something to act against worked as well. A success of which we may all be proud.” “Time for beer and skittles. That is correct, is it not, your majesty?” Lime looked across at Luna with a bight smile and giggle. “Surely no, Dame Lime! Fine ladies as we drink not beer. These modern beers be as unmentionable waters! Nay… ladies as we imbibe fine wine, and modest amounts of salt. But mayhap we may find space for skittles, and may also bring darts, and we would be remiss to have not billiards. Verily, it doth feel much as we be equipping a tavern, but, and we have not strong drink or strong mineral, we have our tea and sweetmeats. Cakes and ale to those as we. And music! We must share music once more as…” Luna suddenly stopped, her face falling from a hopeful smile to a worried look, her head looking all around for something. “Your majesty? What is the matter? Do you…” Lime dropped her question as she finally managed to feel what Luna had. Her magical sensitivity was nowhere near as great as the princess’, so it took her longer to feel the powerful magical field surrounding them. Some kind of muffling barrier and a cloaking field as well. The strength of it could only have come from one pony. “Sister and retinue!” A grand voice thundered out from the sky, practically shaking the foundations of the alley. “My Dames… we may, verily, be firked.” Luna looked up to see her sister hovering over the alley, eyes and body glowing. “All of you, back to the palace. Immediately.” The voice was hard, lacking the common mirth and warmth of Celestia’s tone. “Oh yes, your majesty…” Lime spoke softly, looking up to the angry sun princess. “I believe you are correct. Well and truly firked.” - - - “What in the name of all that is good did you possibly think you were doing? How could you have thought that you were right in that?” At the place, all three were in the throne room before Celestia. Luna had her hood thrown back, while the other two were allowed to keep their hoods up. “But… but, my sister! We did gain remittance by manner of the Inconvenience fee! And we did leave a note!” Luna adopted a soft whine, playing up her status as little sister. “A… a note? The inconvenience fee? You think that you can snatch a foal, while wearing dark cloaks and saying nothing if you just drop an amount based on a thousand year old tradition?” Celestia was unaffected by the moon eyes and pouting, but the absurdity struck her solidly. “Did we leave too little currency? Pah! I should have more carefully weighed the payment. My maid, what be the current amount of the Inconvenience Fee that must needs be paid when taking foals for royal matters? I did not think the labour of foals had increased as much in value in these ten centuries.” Luna turned to Lime with a worried expression. “No, your majesty, not at all. I calculated at the most generous standard hourly wage, using the current allowed maximum daily hours of work for an adult pony. It is more than could potentially be lost by not having her there working, exactly as was done in the classical time. I was certain it would be appropriate and applicable, given that the law still exists.” Lime tapped her chin and nodded in certitude after rattling off her calculations. Celestia looked even more confused. “’Appropriate and applicable’? ‘given that the law still exists’? Oh Lime Sherbert… really? I know my sister is one of the rulers but you don’t have to go along with every bit of silliness she can concoct.” After shaking her head she turned to Luna. “And you… Yes, at the time it made sense. Parents needed foals to work, and work hard, just to keep up with things. And if called to a royal matter of legitimate definition, it was only proper to give them the monetary equivalent of the foal’s full day of labor. But… we did it to take foals to be educated. And over time, as education became more available, and then compulsory, the need became less and less. I just never rescinded the applicable statue because… I honestly forgot it even existed. Everypony forgot it existed.” She looked to Luna and coughed softly. “Everypony who had not kept it in mind forgot it existed.” Luna sighed and hung her head. “Forsooth, you speak wise, my sister. ‘Twas unwise that I should make of all archaic things a rebirth. I shall accept full measure of castigation for my part in this debacle. Release mine innocent cohorts. Place all culpability upon mine head.” Celestia looked down sternly and seriously on Luna, as Fleur and Lime stepped in closer, as silent support. The great sun princess bent her head down to touch her horn to her sister’s, causing a spark of magical power to jump between them, making Luna shiver. Celestia then smiled and slowly trotted back to her throne. “Silly sister… I know you were TRYING to do good. As soon as I got the message from Twilight Sparkle I checked on my personal papers and saw that SOMEPONY had been snooping through them.” “Oh sister… I only intended to aide thee in thy labours as mine attempt at a sisterhood day did fail. But… we did a boon until the youngling.” Luna lifted her head, still looking suitably chastised. “Yes, I know. I’ll calm the parents and citizens of Ponyville, and explain that it was a large, elaborate attempt at helping out that went out of control, without mentioning names. I won’t even look too deeply into any other activities, including rumors about… a bar brawl? Please, do not explain. Just… restrict yourself to three tavern-clearing riots a year.” Celestia grinned and gave a wink. Luna shuffled guiltily on her hooves, matched by her companions. “A-aye, sister. We shall be more proper in future. May we be on our way now?” “Have fun.” Celestia considered. “Within reason!” “Indeed, my sister, indeed.” Luna bowed deeply, mirrored by the cloaked mares at her flanks. All three then slowly, regally trotted out of the throne room. At the door, thinking herself sufficiently away from Celestia, she danced a short jig and cheered. “Huzzah! We have ‘scaped serious censure! To the wine, salt and sweetmeats!” Celestia smiled to herself and shook her head. Her sister… She took up a quill in her magical grip and started to write out a message to Ponyville’s legal authorities. Then stopped with a slight grumble. “And now I want some wine, salt and snacks…”