//------------------------------//
// Accord 
// Story: Gilded Sister 
// by Kind of Brony 
//------------------------------//

To say I'm confused would be an understatement right about now, as Grandpa Shield is having me practice the self-defense techniques he taught me yesterday. It's not the fact that I'm practicing them, or that Bluey is begrudgingly being the test dummy, or even that the techniques are specifically intended for earth ponies to use in neutralizing unicorns. No, what's odd is that this is going on while my parents have been clearly nervous all day, Grandpa is stern faced, and he's been dismissing both Mom and Dad every time they approach to talk to him in hushed tones.

I asked of course what was going on, but he simply told me to focus on my motions, and so, for the last hour, I've been moving slowly through the strikes and grapples he wanted me to. After my not so pleasant run-in with Buttercup's magic two days ago, I can kind of see why Grandpa wants me to be prepared to defend against unicorns, but it seems silly. I mean, it's not like I'm going to be attacked by any unicorn foals and need to fight them off, and the skills Grandpa wants me to learn aren't exactly going to work on grown ups when I wouldn't even be able to reach their horns.

Still, I continue to practice even if I do feel like it's a waste of a weekend. If anything, it's important to Grandpa, so I can do what he asks until everypony stops acting crazy.

"Speed up," Grandpa orders suddenly. "You've got some good muscle memory forming, but it won't mean much if you can't move at anything other than a snail's pace."

I blink. "But what if I accidentally hit Blueblood?"

Blueblood blinks as well. "Yeah, what if she hits me?"

"You get hit," Grandpa says with a shrug. "Come on, lad, don't you trust your sister?"

"Well yeah," Bluey answers hesitantly, looking back at me. "Um, okay, you can go faster, but, you know, try not to..."

"Yeah," I answer stepping back a few paces. "I'll try not to hit you in the face too hard."

From there, I go through about fifty repetitions, and only smack my brother once harder than I intended. It wasn't a full swing, but even still, as the ridge of my hoof impacts directly at the base of his horn, he yelps and stumbles back. "Ow! I thought you said you weren't gonna hit hard!"

"I'm sorry,"  I say, quickly leaving my stance to trot over to him. "I wasn't trying to, honest."

"Well it really hurt," Bluey mumbles, watery eyes making my heart sink.

Grandpa didn't seem to share the same remorse as he comments, "Come now, lad, you're a big, strong colt, aren't you? No need to cry."

"I'm not crying," Blue protests, wiping at his eyes. "It just hurts."

"As well it should. The base of the horn is a pressure point for us unicorns. Just be glad you weren't channeling magic when it happened or it'd be worse." Grandpa stands from the sideline and approaches. "Actually, this'll serve as a good proof of concept. Try to use your magic, Blueblood."

"What? Why? I thought we were suppose to be practicing hoof fighting?" the colt asks with a sniff as he stood up.

"You'll see in just a moment," the stallion answers, gesturing to the ground. "Go ahead, try to pluck some grass."

Blueblood looks skeptical, as do I, but he nevertheless looks at the green carpet beneath our hooves and squints his eyes. His horn starts to glow, but both in its appearance and feel, its flickering, and the aura that wraps around a patch of grass is wobbling like gelatin in an earthquake. His tongue peeks out between his lips in concentration before finally managing to rip up a clump of grass.

Before it's even eye-level, however, half of the blades have slipped from his grasp and he frowns. "Why... why is it so hard?" he asks. "My magic feels all fuzzy."

"It'll wear off in a few minutes," Grandpa assured, patting the colt's back and looking to me. "And now you see what a few properly placed strikes can do. When subduing suspects, we guards generally try not to maim them, and so have developed fighting techniques that can neutralize, but not permanently disable."

Before anymore can be said, a servant arrives at the garden and announces that guests had arrived. While Grandpa acts as if this is expected, I'm only left even more confused. On top of all the other oddities of the day, now we have ponies over? I don't remember any talk of such a thing, but then again, there hasn't been a whole lot of talking among the adults, or at least none within earshot of Bluey and me.

Just what are the grownups planning, and why do I feel nervous about finding out?



"I didn't expect your husband to be here, too," Ornate said as she welcomed the other family in.

"That isn't a problem is it?" Daisy asked.

"Of course not," was the response as she held out her hoof to the stallion.

He had a slight build and was a very light yellow, his mane being only a shade or two lighter. The faded colors made his nervous, bright green eyes stand out starkly as he gave a small smile and met her hoof with his own. "It's uh, a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Garden. I've... heard a lot about you."

While she had no doubt that was true considering what his wife had thought of her not long ago, Ornate instead chose to laugh lightly. "Working with Sunlight, I don't doubt it. I hope my brother's been treating you well."

"Oh, of course!" the stallion said, demeanor suddenly becoming much more lax. "He's a great boss."

"I'm glad," Ornate responded, "He thinks you're a great employee as well, more of a partner, really."

While the stallion beamed, there was a grumble from behind his leg, and Ornate's eyes were drawn to the small filly sitting behind them, front hooves crossed and scowl on her face.

Her father also heard it, and looked down behind him. "Buttercup," he said, taking a small step to the side and effectively removing her cover. "Why don't you say hello to the nice mare?" In response, the filly merely turned her heard and harrumphed, getting Glow Seed to sigh and Daisy to shift uncomfortably.

"Sorry," the mother said. "It's getting close to lunchtime, so I'm sure she's just hungry."

Ornate knew that was a lie, but didn't push, simply smiling instead. "That's perfect then, because Cutting Board has just prepared sandwiches for us all."

At this, the other mare perked up. "Cutting Board? I haven't had any of his food in ages." As if to punctuate the statement, her stomach growled, bringing a blush to her face.

"Missed lunch yourself, I take it?" the pink mare teased. "Well, I suppose we can all do with a light meal. Come on, they're in the kitchen."

When they made to go, Buttercup remained where she was, still grumpily looking away and refusing to listen to either of her parents. Ornate didn't comment as Glow Seed was forced to place the filly on his back, and the group went to the kitchen.

The senior Blueblood was already there, placing a couple of triangle sandwiches on a plate. "Oh, hello," the stallion began, eyes immediately going to their guests. "Sorry I didn't greet you at the door with Ornate, but I was checking on something. I'm Blueblood the sixteenth."

The smile he gave was genial, but Ornate quickly recognized it as the same he wore in front of fellow nobles he didn't particularly care for. Glow Seed didn't know this, however, and gave a far more genuine smile of his own. "Hello there, I'm Glow Seed... the first, I think."

The comment was so innocent that it melted away just a bit of the other stallion's act as he chuckled. "It's nice to meet you. Sandwich? They're watercress."

While her husband stepped forward without hesitation, his wife remained where she was, unable to make eye-contact with the noble stallion she used to work for. Ornate realized then that, though she had made her peace with the mare, her husband hadn't.

"Don't worry," she whispered into the green mare's ear. "He's not upset with you anymore. It's all in the past; we only care about the foals now, same as you." Perhaps it was a slight fib, but Daisy gave a hesitant smile and walked over to her husband who was trying to get their daughter to take a sandwich.

"Come on, Buttercup, they're good," he tried as the filly turned her nose up to the proffered snack. "You haven't eaten since your crackers and cheese, I know you're hungry."

"They really are good, sweetie," Daisy joined in, taking one of the more simple sandwiches made specifically for a foal's less developed palate. She took a nibble and hummed. "Please, Buttercup, try it for Mommy."

"Why should I?" the filly grumbled.

"Because it would make me happy," Daisy Care tried.

"I would have been happy not coming here," Buttercup countered. "But you didn't listen."

There's an uneasy look shared between Daisy and her husband, and the tension only rose when Stalwart Shield came in with the twins. The look of surprise on the foals' faces quickly dropped as the younger Blueblood sent a glare up at Buttercup, who sent one at Pureblood, who promptly directed her eyes anywhere else.

"What's she doing here?" Bluey snarled, surprisingly threatening for a tiny colt.

"Having lunch, I'd guess," his grandfather answered calmly, walking over to the counter to grab a sandwich. "Something we all should do."

"That's not what I meant!" the colt continued with a stomp of his hoof. "She hurt Pure!"

"Bluey, it's okay," Pure tried, placing a hoof on her brother's shoulder. "I'm fine."

"No!" he said, shrugging his sister off to point an accusing hoof at Buttercup. "Only bad ponies hurt good ponies! She's a bad pony!"

"Hey! I'm not the bad pony, you are!" Buttercup countered, jumping from her father's back, getting a frightened yelp from the parents. She landed safely, if not clumsily however, and continued. "You both are! You trick everypony into liking you even though you're just spoiled brats!"

The colt growled and opened his mouth to retort, but a sandwich lodged itself inside, sent via his grandfather's magic. "Eat up, lad," the old stallion said, picking up a sandwich of his own. "Hunger leads to bad tempers."

While Bluey gave a muffled protest around the bread and veggies, Buttercup laughed. "Huh, take that, stupid col-!"

"Yep, hungry foals are grumpy foals," Stalwart continued, having just filled the filly's pie hole with a triangle sandwich. "Eat up and you'll feel better."

Buttercup bit down and pulled the sandwich from her mouth, glaring at the retired guard. "Hey! Why'd you... do... that..." As she mumbled around the mouthful, she chewed, and after swallowing it down, she slowly took another bite, still glaring the entire time.

"Um, thank you," Glow Seed said, slowly looking away from his daughter as she ate. "I guess..."

"Dad, you really shouldn't make it a habit of shoving food into other's mouths," the older Blueblood commented, watching his own son eat grumpily, never taking his narrowed eyes off the green filly. "Especially foals."

"Agreed," mumbled Daisy Care, looking miffed. "That's a choking hazard waiting to happen."

"Foals aren't made of glass," the older stallion said, grabbing another sandwich and glancing down at the twins. A small smile tugged at his lips as Pure, after looking between the other young ones, opened her mouth wide. With precision aim, he launched the sandwich into the waiting maw, cutting his magic off only a third of the way there and letting the momentum carry it the rest of the distance. As Pure took a bite with a giggle, he added, "Coddling them from every possibility of danger will hurt them more in the long run. It stunts growth of character."

"Having bread forcefully lodged into ones windpipe would stunt growth more, I imagine," Blueblood grumbled. "So, father, what is it you plan on having the foals do, anyway? You've been quite tight lipped about it, and as much as I can appreciate the quiet, I'm curious."

The older stallion glared as the mares giggled lightly and Glow Seed snorted. "I changed your diapers, and you repay me with disrespectful quips. Disgraceful." When Blueblood blushed, his father smirked. "And they were ghastly diapers, too. I still don't understand how something so foul could come out of a pony."

"Dad, the children," Blueblood grit out, trying to ignore the giggles now directed at him.

"What am I going to have the little ones do?" Stalwart asked. "It's simple, they're going to work it out themselves."

"Um, excuse me?" Daisy cut in. "How, exactly? Are you going to sit them down or..."

"Don't worry about the specifics, miss," dismissed the old stallion after he swallowed down the last bite of his sandwich. "Really, you parents can stay in here and talk among yourselves while the fillies come with me to the garden."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Stalwart," Ornate said. "It's just, why wouldn't we be there? They're our foals."

"It's like I said," he answered evenly. "Foals aren't glass, and unless you've come to accept that in the last sixty seconds, I think it'd be for the best if you all stayed here."

More than one parent's alarm bell went off at that as Daisy nearly squawked and Blueblood narrowed his eyes. Glow Seed was the first to voice his concerns. "Sir, While I'm sure you're a good stallion and fine father in your own right... it sounds like you're going to put my daughter in danger."

"Danger?" Stalwart interrupted before giving a loud belly-laugh. "I'm not running them through a gauntlet, son, and I'll be there the whole time. They won't be in danger, but you're all young and relatively new parents; to you, safety scissors seem like a guillotine."

"We are not paranoid," Daisy snapped. "You're the one being suspicious here, not telling us what you have planned for our foals."

"I have to agree," Ornate said, and looking ready to add more before being cut short.

"What are you all talking about?" Buttercup said, clearly agitated after her sandwich was eaten. "Who's this old weird pony?"

"Hey! Grandpa is not weird!" the young Blueblood yelled.

"Yeah!" Pure agreed. "He's eccentric! Mommy says so!"

"Um, I thought he's crazy, sis? That's what Daddy always says."

"Well, maybe he can be both."

"Ugh! You two are just as weird as him!"

"Na-ah! You're weird and mean and stupid!"

"Blueblood!" Ornate called disapprovingly.

"You've got dooky for brains!"

"Buttercup!" Daisy gasped.

"Case and point," Stalwart commented dryly. "It's just name calling, and here you all are acting like curses are being used."

"And your point?" the senior Blueblood questioned. "Are you suggesting we just let the little ones yell at each other?"

"Couldn't hurt," he answered back. "Telling them to bottle it up certainly won't help."

"Is... is that what you have planned?" Ornate started hesitantly. "To let the children talk out their problems without us there to... censor them?"

"That's the basics, yes," said the stallion with a nod. "Though, since the problem is mostly between Pure and Buttercup, I feel Blueblood should stay out of it. Can't have the twins tag teaming the lass."

"Um, it's not that I can't see that working," Glow Seed piped up. "But what about Buttercup's magic? I mean, last time she got agitated, it caused... problems, right?"

"I'll be supervising. There's no need to worry."

While there were plenty of skeptical faces, and more than one mouth opened to speak out against the old stallion, they were all beat by a quiet voice.

"I'll talk with her," Pureblood said, staring directly into the other filly's eyes for the first time. "If she wants to."

"I don't," Buttercup snapped, crossing her hooves. "I just want to go home."

"Yeah, because she a big chicken," Bluey said with a snicker. "Pure would talk her ears off with all the big dictionary words she knows."

"I'm not a chicken!" the green filly screeched, jumping up. "I'll talk right here, right now! Bring it!"

"See," Stalwart said with a smirk. "They're chomping at the bit to have a little talk."

Ornate bit her lip as she watched the foals glare. "I don't know..."

"I'm having doubts, as well," commented Daisy Care.

Then, surprisingly, Blueblood gave his opinion. "Fine, let the foals talk it out."

While the mothers snapped surprised looks at the stallion, Glow Seed nodded. "I agree. It might help," he said. "I doubt it could hurt, at least."

Stalwart tapped a hoof off the floor. "There ya go! Really now, I know you ladies are worried, but I promise you, things will work out just fine. Better, in fact."

It was Ornate who caved first with a sigh. "Fine, I'll trust you know what you're doing," she said before looking to the other mare. "How about you, Daisy?"

Daisy looked around the room, at the other adults and the foals, and gave a sigh of her own. "Okay, if it can help settle things between the foals, I suppose I can trust Mr. Shield." She leveled a hard look at the stallion. "But if anything bad happens, retired guard or not, I'm tossing you through a window."

"On the first floor, I hope," the stallion said easily, not worried at all. "These old bones can't handle three story falls like they used to."

The mare huffed, but still smiled when she kneeled down to her daughter's level, whispering for her to behave and to come find her if anything happened.

With that, Bluey was lifted onto his father's back despite his protests against leaving his sister with Buttercup, and the group of adults left for the lounge. Stalwart watched them go for a few seconds before turning his attention to the two fillies still in the kitchen.

"Well, you two, let's go get suited up and get to talking."

Pureblood tilted her head. "Suited up?"



Grandpa is so dead.

That thought continuously runs through my head even as I push the protective headband up away from my eyes. Apparently, it, along with the four padded hoof gloves, are from my dad's foalhood when Grandpa Shield and other members of the guard had their sons spar.

The stallion seems pretty happy to be getting more use out of them as Buttercup sits across from me, shaking a gloved hoof in confusion. "What are these? I thought we were gonna talk?"

"You will be," Grandpa assures. "Those are just for your safety."

While Buttercup still seems confused by what he's implying, I have a pretty good guess, which is why I'm afraid of what Mom and Mrs. Care are going to do to Grandpa when they find out. Well, at least now I know why the stallion had me practice fighting techniques for going up against unicorns. Hopefully I won't have to use them.

"Whatever," Buttercup eventually mutters, glaring at me. "Lets just talk so I can go home."

"I'm not stopping you," Grandpa says, stepping back and nodding. "Go ahead, say what you want, you won't get into any trouble from me. That goes for you, as well, Pureblood."

"Grandpa, I don't know..."

"You're spoiled," Buttercup interrupts. "You get everything you want, when you want. Cookies, toys, books, and you never even have to wait for birthdays."

I blink, then frown, remembering the diner. "I already told you, I'm not spoiled."

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you share your ice cream?" she counters, apparently remembering the same day as me. "You probably have ice cream all the time, but I don't. All I wanted was one spoonful, and you still didn't give it to me."

"That's because you were being mean," I shoot back. "You're always mean."

Her muzzle scrunches. "I'm not always mean."

"Then why don't you have any friends?"

She sputters. "I- I have friends!"

"Not at the kindergarten." I know it's harsh, but I can't help but smirk at her stricken expression.

It quickly changes to fury however, as she yells, "That's because you and your stupid brother make everypony not like me!"

"What? No we don't!"

"Yeahah! Everypony likes the two of you for no reason, and then you make them not like me!"

"That doesn't happen at all!" I shout back, but she just stomps her hoof.

"Yes you do! You even do it to Mama!"

"Wha-?"

"Mama used to say you were bad, but now she's taking your side!" She starts stumping towards me, horn beginning to spark, and I flinch back. "She even makes the silly face for you! That's supposed to be for me!"

"Buttercup, stop-"

"I won't let you take Mama!"

I don't know what she has planned. I can hardly focus at all on anything other than that glowing horn hovering above me as I try to shrink down and away. It keeps advancing, however, and my head is subjected to a familiar pain. A distant part of my mind asks why Grandpa isn't helping, and I forcefully crack open an eyes to search for him.

He's sitting there, grim-faced and tense, but unmoving. Buttercup is speaking, saying something about me being weak, and I feel her padded hoof press hard into my cheek, pushing me closer to the dirt. I squint up to her and growl, instinct suddenly taking over, demanding that the pain be stopped.

And with a hard thwack, it does.

I hardly realize what has happened, having to piece together the events through observations after the fact. My hoof is raised up and out while Buttercup stumbles back, protective headgear lopsided. She lands on her backside and rubs her head right under her horn, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

"You... you hit me," she says, shocked and looking over at Grandpa. "She hit me."

The stallion nods. "She did."

"Aren't you going to yell at her?" she demands as I stumble back to my hooves.

Grandpa shrugs. "This is between you two. You're here to work out your differences. Besides, you looked about ready to attack Pureblood before she defended herself."

"Crying over a tap," I find myself saying with a smirk as the throbbing in my skull dulls. "Maybe you're the weak filly instead of me."

Honestly, I don't know why I said it when I should be trying to defuse the situation, but the clenched jaw and snort it gets from the green filly makes my heart start pumping harder. This is the filly who has picked and prodded at me since I started magic kindergarten. This is the one who has teased and harassed all of my friends at least once. This is the filly who's only ever gotten stern talking-to's for all of the bad things she's done.

And now she's charging at me with a scream, nary a spark to be seen on her horn. In the next second, she's digging a furrow in the dirt with her face as I step to the side and drive her headfirst into the lawn. She lifts her head up and spits out a clump of sod, and I laugh. Honest laughter at this little filly's expense, and I can't regret it at all.

What air I have left for laughs is forced from my lungs however, as Buttercup drives her back hooves into my chest from her prone position. It's not nearly as structured as the kick I gave Bronze Pauldron all that time ago, and her hooves are padded, but I'm also not a big earth pony colt, and end up on my back, heaving.

"Huh, not so tough when you don't have ponies to hide behind," Buttercup comments, standing up. "You can't use your brother, or your friends, or the teacher to keep yourself safe. You can't make Mama protect you."

"I... don't use anypony," I huff, sitting up and catching my breath. "Because I don't need protection. Especially not from a bully who's too crazy to know she is one."

She growls, lowering her head. Whatever magic she intended to summon comes out as a pathetic flicker, and she screws her face up in concentration. After another failed attempt, she looks up, confused. "Wha- what happened to my horn?"

I smile thinly. "That tap I gave to your head is what happened. The headband wasn't enough to protect your magic."

"You... you took my magic?" She says, awe and fear mingling in here voice as her eyes widen. Suddenly, they narrow. "Give it back."

I raise a brow. "I can't."

"I said give it back!" she yells, charging once again. At first, I think she hasn't learned her lesson from the first time she ate dirt, and prepare to toss her down again, but just as I step to the side, she stops and spins around, aiming another kick at my chest.

The change in tactics still isn't enough to catch me by surprise though, as I quickly rear up and meet her back hooves with my front ones, the pair colliding with a loud thunk. The impact sends tremors up my limbs, but I grit my teeth and start standing as high as I can on two legs. With her hooves propped against mine, by moving up and back, I make her over extend, her front legs straightening until she flops onto her belly.

In the next second, I'm falling onto her back and hooking my forelegs under hers, placing my hooves on the back of her neck. "Let go!" she screams, trying, and failing to escape from my hold. "Let go, stealer!"

"Stealer? I'm not a thief!" I argue, grunting as I fight to keep the filly pinned.

"You stole my magic!" she counters, managing to roll the both of us on our sides. "You're trying to steal Mama!"

"No I'm not!" I growl, but yelp as, with a clear effort, Buttercup throws her head back against my hold and manages to smash the top of her skull into my jaw. Stunned as I am, I fail to keep Buttercup restrained as she scrambles out of my grasp. She's up a second before me, and tackles into my chest.

I grunt, but bring my forelegs up to guard my face as she sloppily tries to hit me. Even with the gloves, the blows she's raining down sting.

"Liar! Liar! Li- ah!" I buck my hips and she teeters sideways. In the next instant, we've switched positions with me on top, and I quickly pin her hooves to her chest. "I'm not trying to take your mom, and your magic will come back on its own!" I rush to explain to the struggling filly. "Please! stop fighting before you get hurt!"

"No!" she screeches. "You're a liar! I won't let you take Mama away!"

"I don't want your mom! I already have one!"

"Then why is she taking your side!?" she accuses, struggling harder.

"I don't know!" I blurt. "I've only talked to her the one time!"

"You used magic on her head!"

"But you said I can't do magic!"

"No!"

"No? No what!?"

"Nooo!" she moans again, breathing heavily with her eyes squeezed shut. Her chest is heaving and tears begin to bead up at the corners of her eyes.

"Buttercup, please believe me! I don't want to steal your mom! I don't know why she's being nice all of a sudden! Maybe she's friends with my mom now. I don't know," I press on as her struggles start to slow. "Maybe she just wants you to stop being angry all the time."

"I'm- I'm not-"

"Maybe she wants you to have friends," I continue, trying to put myself in the shoes of this filly's mother. "I'm sorry, Buttercup. I'm sorry you don't like me. I'm sorry it makes you so angry that you can't be nice to the other foals at school."

"W-what?" Finally, she opens her eyes and looks into mine.

"I don't know if I'm the only reason, but I know I make you angry, and then you take that anger out on others, and then they're too afraid to try and be your friends." When she stops fighting, I slowly stand and step back, letting her sit up. "I'm sorry it's like that, but it's not my fault."

"Y-yes it is," she says petulantly, sniffling. "Everything is your fault."

"No it's not," I counter. "You didn't even know me when you picked on Twilight that first day."

"That was 'cause she was showing off."

"She wasn't and you nearly made her cry."

"She's a big foal then."

"And now she's scared of you," I say with narrowed eyes. "And her friends don't like you, either."

"They're stupid anyway-"

"And the rest of the class? Are they stupid, too? Or is it because you picked on them that they don't sit with you at lunch?"

"That's because you and your brother-" she tries, but I cut her off.

"We don't make you be mean. Even if you're mad at me because I'm a spoiled brat, I don't make you take it out on others," I snap, patience slipping for moment. I don't even know why I'm trying to talk to this girl who's been nothing but cruel since I've known her. It'd be much easy to kick her butt so she's too afraid to bother me again.

But that wouldn't be right, so I breathe deep and try to get through to her. "I don't choose how you act, Buttercup. Nopony does but you. The most I can do is the same as Mr. Scatter or even your mom; I can ask you to please stop being so awful, and hope you just listen for once."

"Yeah? And what would be the point?" she sneers, snorting wetly to clear her sinuses. "If I'm nice, then ponies will just use me. That's all ponies do; use nice ponies to make things easier for themselves, and then throw you out when you stop being nice. Mama says; and Daddy is the nicest pony ever, and he was still fired from a whole bunch of jobs. If I'm nice, I'll just be used by some rich pony... like you."

"Buttercup..." I breathe, shocked. "That's not- I wouldn't-"

"Your mom and dad did," she hisses. "They fired Mama even though she's good. S-she made the silly face for you and Blueblood... Blueblood even said he liked her, but she was still fired."

"... That was wrong," I say, getting her to tilt her head in confusion. Even I'm a little shocked at the revelation. "My parents were wrong to do that. Your mom was a good nanny; she never did anything bad to us." And I mean it too. As far as I can tell, Daisy Care is a nice enough mare, and I can't imagine why she would have been fired. My parents, as wonderful as they often are, made a mistake.

"You think... your parents are wrong?" Buttercup says haltingly. "But they're your parents."

"And they messed up," I say with a small nod. "Still, they may have been wrong for firing your mom, but that doesn't change that it's wrong for you to treat ponies like you have. Two wrongs don't make a right."

Buttercup actually huffs at this. "Daddy says that too, and I don't know what he means."

"It means that just because somepony else does something bad to you, it doesn't mean you should do bad stuff too," I try, but she just squints.

"That's stupid," she declares. "What are you supposed to do if somepony is doing bad stuff to you then? Let them?"

"You try to get them to stop another way, like going to the teacher or trying to talk to them," I say, racking my brain. I didn't expect to talk about conflict resolution with a filly today, especially after a fight and with a sore jaw. "And besides, this isn't about just being mean to the other pony; you've been being mean to a bunch of ponies. If I'm the only one who is actually bad, why do you have to pick on everypony in class?"

She crosses her hooves and looks away. "I'm not mean to everypony-"

"And when you are mean, what did those other ponies do?" I press. "Did they fight back?"

"They ran to the teacher like big foals," she growls.

"And then he made you stop picking on them," I say triumphantly, getting her to snap her eyes to me. "See, they didn't have to do another wrong to stop you. They told the teacher like they were supposed to. Like I said, two wrongs don't make a right. Only a right makes a right."

"You're weird," she declares.

"But right," I press. "Listen, nopony will use you if you act nice. Maybe it happens, but that's not how things are most of the time. I'm nice to all of my friends, and they don't use me. And I don't use them just because they're nice. Mr. Scatter is nice too, and he's not being used."

"But Mama and Daddy..." she whispers meekly.

"Are nice," I say. "And your dad has a new job now with Uncle Sunlight." I remember that tidbit from our mother's conversation the other day. "Your Mom was saying he was really happy, too. If being nice was bad, how would that be?"

Buttercup is tight lipped and doesn't give an answer.

I sigh and look at my hoof tracing a circle in the grass. "You know, yesterday, when you were giving us all that mean look at lunch... We were talking about you."

"Making fun of me?" she accuses.

"No," I answer. "Mostly just wondering... wondering why you were so angry. Mineutte thought it was because you didn't have any friends."

"You can tell the blue airhead-" Buttercup starts, but I cut her off.

"She wanted to be your friend."

That gives the green filly pause. "She wanted to be my... friend?"

I nod, feeling some guilt as I said this next part. "Yeah, but I told her that if you wanted a friend, you'd be nicer to ponies, so she shouldn't waste her time." I chuckle forcefully. "She, ah, she thought maybe giving you ice cream would do the trick."

"You told her... not to try and be my friend," she says slowly.

I nod again. "I did."

"Why?"

"Why?" I echo. "It's like I said. You were always being mean. She thought you were mean because you didn't have a friend, but, well..."

"You really are a jerk."

"Hey!" I counter a little defensively. "Maybe I was a little worried, huh? Maybe I was afraid you'd just make Minuette cry if she tried to be nice to you."

"I wouldn't have-"

"Wouldn't you?" I snap before breathing in. "Star Bright tried to be your friend once, right? How'd that end?"

Buttercup's face burns. "I... didn't mean to make her run off like that. She couldn't pick up two marbles at once, and I was just trying to help."

"By shouting that she was an idiot for the whole class to hear," I comment dryly.

"I tried getting her to do it, for, like, ten minutes," she protests, voice rising. "I got a little angry, okay?!"

"Okay, okay, I understand," I quickly say, trying to placate the filly as she stands. "We all get frustrated at times, that's fine. But you have to admit that how you responded wasn't right."

She snorts, but looks away. "Fine... I was meaner than I should have been... even if Star was the one sucking."

I wince. "That's a... start."

"Start? Start to what?"

I shrug. "Maybe... making friends?"

She looks at my like I'm crazy. "What? With you?"

Rubbing one foreleg over the other, I swallow down the denial and say, "We could be... I guess."

Suddenly, she bursts into laughter, amusement traced with cruelty. "Yeah right!" she says. "Like that'd ever happen!"

I blush. "Not if you're going to be a jerk about it!"

"Like I'm ever gonna be friends with a spoiled princess," she states, looking down her nose at me in a way that just makes me want to buck her in the face. "You might be tougher than I thought, you can fight pretty good for a prissy filly, but us being friends...?" Her expression flickers for a second to something I can't recognize before she glances away. "It's too late for that."

Letting a long breath from my nostrils. "Can we at least not be, like, mortal enemies then?" I ask. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired of all the barbed remarks during class."

"Barbed remarks?"

"Mean words," I clarify. "Like saying stuff and pretending it's a cough, or making fun of me behind my back because I'm not doing magic."

"Why should I?" she questions.

"You wouldn't get in trouble with Mr. Scatter as much," I offer. "And it's not like it helps you anyway. What do you get from saying stuff like that?"

"A laugh," she immediately says, but rolls her eyes when I glare. "Okay, fine, I won't pick on you anymore. Not like I was doin' it a lot anyways, what with Mr. Scatters watching me all the time now."

"If you start being nicer at school, maybe he'll start leaving you alone more," I muse. "Plus you'd get friends."

"Whatever," she mumbles. "Like I need friends... maybe if Minuette brings me ice cream."

I smirk. "Don't know how she would manage without it melting."

"Just means she's really serious if she does," Buttercup responds.

After a second, we both laugh a little. Not loud or long, but real and without malice. "Well, if anypony can do it, it'd be Minuette," I say. "She's crazy like that."

"Not sure I'd want a crazy friend."

"I don't think you can be too picky in your position."

"Shut up," she says, though the heat is gone.

"Sounds like you two have come to a rapport," Grandpa Shield suddenly comments from where he's standing off to the side. "See, I knew all you needed was a good talk."

"And a fight. right?" I add for him, a little miffed at what he put me through. "Guess I know why you didn't want anypony else here."

He smiles in the face of the accusation. "Well, you certainly can't argue with the results."

"What are you talking about?" Buttercup cuts in with a raised brow as she looks at the stallion. "Are you saying... you wanted us to fight?" She looks at her padded hooves. "Is that why you made us wear these stupid things?"

When Grandpa only smiles wide and laughs, both us fillies glare.

Then Buttercup shut him up with one little sentence. "I'm telling."



When the adults found out, Stalwart Shield was lucky to only get a black eye from Daisy Care.

As for Ornate, she was so furious that she demanded the old stallion leave the manor until she could cool down, leading to the retired guard spending a week at the Canterlot barracks with Celestia's permission.

Despite the anger however, none of the parents could deny the results of Stalwart's unorthodox methods as the two fillies who once hated each other no longer fought and Buttercup's behavior and attitude improved remarkably. The green filly no longer garnered complaints from her classmates, and even began making friends.

Never with Pureblood, but there was something almost like respect between the two, and they could stomach each other's presence when brought together by their shared friendship with Minuette.

From then on, Magic Kindergarten became far more enjoyable for both the students and teacher alike, and seemed to end far too quickly.