This is the best that you’ve felt in a long time. The talks you’ve had with Rose and Twilight, and the letter you’ve written, have done you a great deal of good. Once you return home and make the necessary preparations for tomorrow, you go to bed in better spirits than you had the previous night, nodding off fairly quickly after such a long and busy day. As an additional good sign, your dreams that night are untroubled, if still slightly bizarre. At least Princess Luna didn’t need to rescue you from a nightmare this time.
You dream you’re in the audience of one of Trixie’s magic shows. Trixie’s on stage in full magician’s garb, alongside Starlight, wearing a sparkling leotard and a rather forced smile. The ponies in the audience are all munching tiny cookies from popcorn bags. Marble and Limestone Pie are sitting on either side of you, while Pinkie’s cheering loudly from behind, making Marble wince and Limestone scowl at her.
During the course of Trixie’s routine, Vinyl Scratch is invited on stage, and placed inside a cabinet-sized box with three doors. Trixie and Starlight close the doors, and the box is separated into three sections. There’s a puff of smoke that envelopes most of the stage, and when it clears, the doors are opened. Instead of Vinyl’s body divided into three, the disembodied heads of Vinyl, Octavia, and Rose peer out, the latter two looking utterly bewildered, as though they didn’t plan on being part of the act.
Then, Spike appears in a puff of smoke beside Trixie, and, at her command, he breathes a heavy stream of green fire, enveloping the box. The crowd gasps. Marble looks like she’s about to faint, but Limestone looks thrilled. When the flames vanish, the box is gone, but there stand Vinyl, Octavia, and Rose, whole and unharmed. The crowd goes wild with applause, as do you, even as poor Marble swoons in her seat, Pinkie leaning over the back to console her. As Trixie, Starlight, and the three participants bow, you see the glimmer of a rippling blue mane out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head, and see Princess Luna, at least a head taller than other ponies in the audience, joining in the applause. She catches your eye, smiles, winks, and vanishes.
***
After such a strange but amusing dream, you awake feeling much better than you had the night before last, and get ready to start another day at the spa. As you head out the door, you remember to take the letter you wrote with you, along with a new plate of fresh-baked cookies. You almost feel like you could burst into song as you walk along, if only you knew the words to sing. Ponyville feels like the sort of place where one regularly breaks out into song, though perhaps that’s just Pinkie Pie, who always seems to be singing a new song when you pass her in the streets.
The moment you put your letter in the mailbox on the way to work, you feel as if a massive weight has been lifted off your conscience. While it’s true that you still have to wait for an actual reply to the letter, however long it takes, if one comes at all, you’ve done all that you can for now. Now you can put your mind back where it should be: on providing affection therapy for those seeking it.
There is one thing that puts a slight check in your thoughts, though, making you feel puzzled and curious. Parts of the main street of Ponyville have hay bales set up like barriers, and signs indicating curves and one-way directions. It looks very much like a racetrack. You can’t help but wonder when this was set up, and what it’s for. Many ponies are crowded behind the barriers, talking excitedly.
“What’s going on?” you ask a stallion as you approach.
“Haven’t you heard, buddy?” he says, excitedly. “It’s the Applewood Derby! You’d better grab a good spot if you don’t wanna miss it.”
The Applewood Derby?
Then, it hits you.
You remember hearing about a racing derby being held by the school, and how it would run throughout Ponyville. The carts would be awarded ribbons based upon which one was the fastest, which one had the most creative design, and which one had the best traditional look. At the time, it sounded exciting and interesting. You can hardly believe that it’s today, but then again, your mind’s been occupied by a lot of things lately.
Of course, you can’t help but question the logic in having the track run through the streets of Ponyville, and, from what you can see, having parts of the track intersecting with each other. Wouldn’t a course in a more open space make more sense, as well as be safer? This is just asking for trouble.
Distracted by these thoughts, you soon make your way to the spa, but as you put your hand on the doorknob, you see a notice on the door.
‘Closed for Applewood Derby
We apologize for the inconvenience, but will reopen tomorrow at regular hours.
-The Ponyville Spa Staff’
At first, you’re shocked. Only your third day here at the spa, and you already have a day off? Is this derby really worth closing the whole spa for the day? After the initial shock, however, you realize that a lot of ponies, maybe even all of Ponyville, might be turning out to watch or even participate in this derby, so it only stands to reason that the spa wouldn’t see many clients until the race is over.
At the same time, you feel slightly foolish at not realizing the spa would be closed today. If you hadn’t been so lost in your own thoughts and worries, you might have taken better notice, or else remembered what day the derby was going to be. What if Aloe or Lotus had said something about it, but you didn’t hear them? It’s not a good mark of being a good therapist if you lose focus so easily and miss what others are trying to tell you. You have to be better at that.
Well, with what you’ve accomplished last night, you already aim to do better. It should’ve gone without saying, but you make a mental resolution to be more observant, and work at being less easily distracted. Without the voice in your head, that should be easier. For now, though, you decide that there’s nothing else to do but watch the derby, so you go to join the crowd and wait for it to start.
***
…Well. You certainly weren’t expecting that kind of finish.
It’s a very interesting race, to say the least. You’re impressed to see all of the different derby carts created by the foals participating, and to see those same foals driving them alongside their adult racing partners. It looks like it must have been a lot of fun putting those carts together.
Then you see Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, or rather, you see them having a miserable time while Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash drive the carts. Applejack’s piloting a slow and steady buggy, Rarity an extravagant swan-like cart with extending wings (cutting off other carts from passing, which has to be against the rules), and Rainbow a sleek and speedy cart that doesn’t seem to have the best handling. The fact that they’re the ones driving, and the looks on their sisters’ faces, tells you one thing quite plainly: the Crusaders weren’t allowed any input in how these carts turned out.
But that doesn’t come close to the crash, and what comes after.
The carts all end up in a collision at a big four-way intersection. Horrified, you join the crowd of ponies hurrying over to see if the racers are all right. You arrive in time to see most of the racers in the midst of a big wreckage, looking dazed but thankfully unhurt as they extricate themselves. Then, you hear Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo shouting at their sisters, blaming them for ruining the event. Everypony is glaring at Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash, who are overlooking the damage with very sheepish expressions.
“Yes, well, I suppose we might have gotten a teensy bit carried away…” Rarity says, delicately.
“But Ah thought you all wanted our help,” says Applejack.
“We did!” says Apple Bloom. “We wanted your help to build our carts, but we all ended up with carts that are what each of you wanted!”
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo nod. Now you’re starting to get a better picture, and your initial suspicions seem to have been correct.
“But…why didn’t you say anything?” asks Rainbow.
“You’ve all done the race before,” says Scootaloo. “I just figured you knew best!”
“And we did try to speak up,” says Sweetie Belle, “but you all kept ignoring us. It’s not easy speaking up to older ponies.”
Hoo boy, does that sound familiar to you. The three older mares look very awkward at this.
“Oh, I certainly understand that,” says Rarity, sympathetically, “but you mustn’t think older ponies automatically know best.”
“And we probably could’ve done a better job of listening to you,” says Rainbow, sheepishly.
Applejack sighs.
“Ah guess we owe all three of you an apology,” she says.
“Maybe not just us,” says Apple Bloom.
She indicates the other ponies involved in the crash-up, as well as Cheerilee, whom you’ve just noticed is dressed up like a cheerleader, and looking mighty peeved. Rainbow chuckles nervously.
“Um, how do you feel about a do-over?” she asks.
Cheerilee ponders this for a moment, then smiles.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she says, before adding, wryly, “but maybe the older ponies should sit this one out.”
Neither Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash look in the least bit anxious to argue against this idea. From there, they’re directed to help clean up the wreckage. The other racers and their adult copilots head off, talking amongst themselves while still shooting dirty looks at the three, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders head off to the side to watch and wait, none of them looking very happy.
A sudden idea strikes you as you look at the scene before you, and the gears start turning in your head. The Crusaders certainly look and sound like they need a pick-me-up after the day they’ve had, and you’ve got a plateful of cookies and a day away from the spa. Apple Bloom’s already experienced a bit of affection therapy herself, and it’s not unlikely that she told her friends about it. After a tense exchange like that, it seems like they all could benefit from a session, but you’d best talk to their sisters first and see if they might need any help.
You approach the three mares, who’ve already gotten a start at clearing away the wreckage, all three of them looking glum and penitent. Cheerilee spies you and gives you a wave and a smile, which you return, before turning back to the three.
“Hey, girls,” you say. “I saw the crash. I hope everypony’s all right.”
They look up in surprise.
“Oh! It’s you, darling,” says Rarity.
“Howdy, pard,” says Applejack.
“Hey there,” says Rainbow, then adds, after a slight pause, “Um, how much did you see and hear?”
“Pretty much everything,” you say, apologetically. “I mean, it was in front of everypony, after all.”
“Yeah,” say the three mares together, guiltily.
“Do you want any help clearing this away?” you ask, gesturing at the pile of wrecked cart parts.
“Nah, don’t fret yerself about it, sugarcube,” says Applejack. “This is our fault, and like Granny Smith always says, ‘ya break somethin’, ya fix it’.”
“And I fear we broke more than some splendidly-built carts,” says Rarity, her ears drooping. “This Derby was supposed to be about the foals, but…we made it about ourselves.”
“We…kinda got lost in memories about our own days racing in the Applewood Derby,” says Rainbow. “We made the carts the way we would’ve wanted…not the way the Crusaders wanted.”
“And worst of all, we didn’t listen to them when they tried to object,” says Rarity. “I’m ashamed of how utterly selfish I was being towards Sweetie Belle, and all over a silly little fillyhood grudge…”
“And I wanted Scootaloo to be a winner like I was,” says Rainbow.
“And Ah told Apple Bloom she had ta stick ta tradition,” says Applejack. “All three of us were pretty rotten to our sisters, and everypony else in this race, and we can only hope we can make it up ta them.”
They certainly look and sound genuinely sorry for their actions. Even if this was their fault, you can’t find it in your heart to be too mad at them.
“Well, offering to re-run the race is certainly a good start,” you say. “I just hope you’ll listen to your sisters this time. I know how hard it is to speak up to your elders myself, but the words of children shouldn’t be counted less than the words of adults.”
“Oh, believe me, darling,” says Rarity, earnestly, “we’re not going to miss a word this time, and after this is all over…Well, I’m still working on it, but mark my words, whatever Sweetie Belle wants to do to make up for this, she simply has to say it, and it’s done, no matter what.”
“That goes double for me and Scootaloo,” says Rainbow.
“And me and Apple Bloom,” says Applejack.
“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that,” you say, smiling. “Now, I shouldn’t take up any more of your time, but if you’re sure you don’t want help-”
“No, no, dear,” says Rarity, holding up her hoof. “I won’t hear of it. This is our responsibility. It’s already a crime that you had to miss a day of work at the spa just to see us like this.”
“That’s very kind of you, Rarity,” you say. “I actually didn’t realize the spa would be closed today. I kinda missed the memo about when the Derby was being held. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”
Applejack’s face lights up.
“Wait a sec,” she says. “Ah’ve got an idea! We’re already plannin’ on buildin’ our sisters’ carts the way they want them this time, but they shouldn’t have ta just sit around doin’ nothin’ and watch us clean up. Why don’t you work some of yer affection therapy magic and cheer ‘em up, hun? Ah know Apple Bloom wouldn’t be against it.”
“Hey, yeah!” says Rainbow, before catching herself in her enthusiasm. “Er, I mean, not that I’d know what it’s like, but maybe Scootaloo would like it, if it’s as good as everypony says it is.”
“And goodness knows Sweetie Belle deserves it,” says Rarity. “She’s been pestering me about getting her a session ever since she heard about it from Apple Bloom.”
Well, the older sisters are on board with the idea, and Applejack suggested it without any prompting or suggestions from you. That’s a good sign already.
“I’ll certainly see what I can do,” you say. “Good luck, girls.”
The three mares thank you, and you leave them to their work, supervised by Cheerilee, and make your way over to where the Crusaders are sitting, in the shade of a large tree. They’ve ditched the protective helmets they were wearing, and are trying to smooth out their scuffed coats and ruffled manes and tails.
Sweetie Belle is a pale-white unicorn, just like her big sister, with light-green eyes. Her mane and tail are a combination of pink and purple, and curled at the ends rather than being one big curl like Rarity’s. Just as Apple Bloom’s a bit stout for her age, Sweetie Belle also has a bit of a belly, but she’s not what one would call ‘fat’. Rather, she looks like someone who enjoys sweets, but also enjoys being active. Her cutie mark matches Apple Bloom’s, only the symbol within her shield is a musical note.
Scootaloo is an orange pegasus with purple eyes. Her purple mane and tail are both messy, just like Rainbow Dash’s. In contrast to her two friends, Scootaloo’s rather skinny, with a fit and sporty look about her, which isn’t too surprising, since she’s rarely seen without her favorite scooter. Her wings are rather small, even for a foal, and despite seeing her propel herself at great speeds along that scooter, you’ve never once seen her fly. Her cutie mark is just like Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle’s, except for, once again, the emblem inside the shield, which is a feathered wing in her case.
You’ve only ever seen the Crusaders as they are now, with their cutie marks. However, you’ve heard stories from Rose, Daisy, and Lily, who gather up all kinds of gossip in the marketplace, about the antics these three got up to trying to earn their marks. It sounds like it took them a lot longer than it should have for them to know what was needed to earn one, and kept missing the point. Then again, you’re not one to judge. You yourself had wanted a cutie mark when you were young…
Apple Bloom’s the first to notice you, her expression brightening in a twinkling. She nudges her two friends, who look up and spy you.
“Howdy!” says Apple Bloom.
“Hey there, Apple Bloom,” you say. “Hey, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo.”
“Hi,” says Sweetie Belle.
“Hey there,” says Scootaloo.
Sweetie Belle has a rather cute voice, one that, and you’re not sure how to explain why it’s so, sounds like it would make for an excellent singing voice. Scootaloo has an adorably raspy, boyish voice, only adding to the similarities between her and Rainbow Dash. All three smile up at you, and you’d be lying if you said they didn’t have some of the most endearing smiles you’ve ever seen.
“That race was…certainly something,” you say, conversationally.
“That’s one word for it,” says Apple Bloom, her ears drooping, as well as her bow, which is quite a feat.
“I think ‘disaster’ works better,” says Sweetie Belle, glumly.
“Or ‘fiasco’,” says Scootaloo.
“Well, whatever you want to call it,” you say, “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Mind you, I only saw what I saw from the audience, and got an abridged version from your sisters, so I only know so much, but it doesn’t sound like a very fun time.”
“Trust us, it’s a long story,” says Scootaloo, wearily.
“And a frustrating one,” says Sweetie Belle, just as wearily.
“We don’t wanna make ya have to listen to it,” says Apple Bloom.
“Well, I’ve got plenty of time today,” you say, reasonably. “The spa’s closed for the day because of the race, and your sisters look like they’re gonna be busy with cleanup duty for a while. I’ve also got a whole plateful of cookies that I’d hate to go to waste. Would you three mind if I kept you company for a little while, maybe let you air out your frustrations?”
At the word ‘cookies’, all three fillies’ eyes light up instantly. No one can turn down the prospect of free sweets. Then, Apple Bloom gains a knowing look on her face, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both suddenly look like they’ve had a brainwave.
“You mean, like, your affection therapy stuff?” asks Sweetie Belle, putting her hooves to her cheeks with a look of adorable anticipation on her face.
“Only if you want to, that is,” you say. “It was your sisters’ idea.”
The three fillies look over at their busy sisters, then at each other, then back up at you.
“Course we wouldn’t mind you sittin’ and talkin’ with us,” says Apple Bloom.
So encouraged, you take a seat on the ground beside them, and set your plate of cookies down before them.
“Help yourselves,” you say.
They each eagerly grab a cookie, chowing down on them hungrily. By the time they’ve finished one, their muzzles are a mess of crumbs, which they wipe away in turn.
“Mmmm, these are really good!” says Scootaloo.
“Yeah,” says Sweetie Belle. “They’re just like the cookies Pinkie Pie bakes. Did you make them yourself?”
“Well, Pinkie did give me a recipe or two,” you say. “I don’t think I could hold a candle to her or the Cakes when it comes to baking, though.”
“Ah think it’s great,” says Apple Bloom. “Ah’m sure Granny Smith’d say the same, and she’s one of the best bakers Ah know.”
You can feel yourself blush at such innocent praise, but you appreciate it all the same.
“Thanks,” you say. “So, like I said, if you girls want to talk about what happened, I’m all ears. If not, that’s fine, too.”
The three fillies look at each other, then back up at you.
“There’s not that much to tell, really,” says Scootaloo. “I mean, Miss Cheerilee told us what we had to do for the Applewood Derby, and we went to our sisters to help us out.”
“We figured they’d be all over helpin’ us build racin’ carts,” says Apple Bloom.
“Especially since they’ve run the race themselves,” says Sweetie Belle.
“Understandable,” you say. “So, when did things start falling apart?”
Three sets of ears droop.
“Well, we all had an idea of what kind of cart we wanted to make,” says Sweetie Belle. “I wanted to go with something traditional.”
“And Ah wanted ta build a speedy cart,” says Apple Bloom.
“And I wanted to make a stylish cart,” says Scootaloo. “We all wanted to try something outside of what we normally would do, you know?”
You nod in understanding. On the surface, you would likely have expected Apple Bloom to go with tradition, Sweetie Belle with style, and Scootaloo with speed. The fact that they wanted to experiment outside of their usual interests is very commendable.
“But when we told our sisters about what we wanted to do,” says Sweetie Belle, “they…had other ideas.”
“I see,” you say, starting to see where this is going.
“Applejack insisted that an Apple family cart had ta be traditional,” says Apple Bloom, “cuz that’s how it’s always been.”
“Rainbow Dash won the Derby in Cloudsdale when she was a filly,” says Scootaloo, “and she wanted me to be a guaranteed winner, too.”
“And Rarity got second place in a style competition when she was in the Derby,” says Sweetie Belle, “and she really wanted to win first place, even if it was through my cart.”
“Even though they kept insistin’ they were their carts,” says Apple Bloom, bitterly.
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo nod glumly.
“I see,” you say, quietly and thoughtfully. “So they got lost in their nostalgia for their own Derby days and wanted to experience it again vicariously.”
This last word is met with a trio of blank looks.
“That means they were trying to live the experience through you,” you explain, then ask, “but you did try to speak up and correct them, didn’t you?”
“Of course!” says Scootaloo. “I mean, we did try, but I guess we didn’t try hard enough. They just wouldn’t listen.”
“Besides, they’ve run the Derby before,” says Apple Bloom. “We started ta think that maybe they knew better than we did.”
“Even if it wasn’t what we wanted,” says Sweetie Belle.
“But they still cared more about those carts than they did for us,” Scootaloo mutters. “They didn’t even care if we were all right when we crashed.”
Now that stings to hear. You know Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash wouldn’t just dismiss the safety of their sisters just like that. Was this Derby really worth losing so much focus and sense? Did it really mean that much to them that they lost sight of what really mattered?
You reach down and pat the fillies’ heads comfortingly. Even though there’s three of them, you still manage to comfort Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, sitting on your left, with one hand, and Scootaloo, sitting on your right, with the other. You can see by their faces that they appreciate it.
“I’m sorry, girls,” you say, sympathetically. “I know it’s not easy speaking up to your elders. But like Rarity said, just because someone’s older doesn’t necessarily mean they know best. I mean, I’m about as old as your sisters are, and I still make mistakes. Age and wisdom don’t always go hand in hand. Er, hoof in hoof,” you amend.
The girls don’t reply, but simply look up at you. Three sets of puppy dog eyes staring up at you is incredibly unfair.
“You know they love you, don’t you?” you ask, gently.
They all nod.
“I’m not excusing their behavior, mind you,” you say. “I’m as baffled as you are to hear how much this Derby consumed their thoughts. It wasn’t fair to make you have to suffer them wanting to relive their own foalhoods. I know it’s not much of an explanation or consolation, but sometimes, we let our obsessions get the better of us. When something affects you so powerfully, and leaves such an impact on you, you can lose track of what’s right in front of you, and get lost in your own thoughts, blind to everything else around you.”
You feel the three fillies shift guiltily beneath your hands.
“Like when I got obsessed with trying to fly,” Scootaloo mumbles.
“Or I thought Rarity was trying to upstage me on purpose,” Sweetie Belle mutters.
“Or I thought we wouldn’t be hangin’ out as friends anymore,” Apple Bloom says quietly.
Sounds like these three have had their own experiences with obsession and tunnel-vision. You can’t exactly profess to having a perfect sense of focus when your mind’s occupied, either.
“You see? It happens a lot more than we’d like to admit or believe,” you say. “It doesn’t make it right, but they’re very sorry, and they’re already prepared to make it up to you. Think you can forgive them?”
The three Crusaders look at each other, back up at you, and nod, little smiles coming over their faces.
“That’s the spirit,” you say, smiling, as you remove your hands from their heads. “Did talking about it make you feel better?”
“A lot better,” says Scootaloo.
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle nod in agreement.
“I’m glad,” you say. “Even so, do you girls still want a little affection therapy?”
“Yes!” says Sweetie Belle, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
Apple Bloom nods eagerly. You can see Scootaloo’s tail wagging, just like a dog’s. She apparently notices, as she tucks her tail away rather hurriedly.
“Did, uh, Rainbow Dash have one of those therapy session things?” she asks, in the off-hand tone of someone trying to sound disinterested.
“Well,” you say, remembering the promise you made to Rainbow, “I’m personally not at liberty to say who’s gotten sessions from me, or what they’ve said during those sessions, but I can tell you that Rainbow Dash wasn’t interested when I brought it up to her.”
Technically, that isn’t a lie. Rainbow Dash did profess disinterest when you brought it up before. Her changing her mind later is irrelevant to the question.
Scootaloo frowns, looking unsure.
“I dunno,” she says. “I might need to think about it, if Rainbow Dash didn’t want to.”
“Aw, c’mon, Scootaloo,” says Apple Bloom. “Just cuz Rainbow Dash don’t like somethin’ doesn’t mean you can’t.”
“Yeah!” says Sweetie Belle. “Come on, Scoot!”
Scootaloo doesn’t answer.
“How about if Apple Bloom and I go first, and you can decide later if you want to?” Sweetie Belle suggests.
“That sounds fair,” you say. “I only have two hands to work with, anyway. I’ll be sure you have a turn, Scootaloo, if you want one.”
Scootaloo nods, still looking undecided. Sweetie Belle shows no such hesitation, hopping up into your lap with an eager giggle. Apple Bloom joins her on the other side.
“So, how does it work?” asks Sweetie Belle. “Your affection therapy, I mean.”
“Well, what do you know about it?” you ask.
“Apple Bloom said it’s just scratching ears and rubbing tummies,” says Sweetie Belle. “Scootaloo and I were kinda confused at first when she said that.”
“Well, it is,” says Apple Bloom. “Right?” she adds, looking up at you.
“Maybe that’s a simple way of describing it,” you say, “but it really isn’t complicated. It really can be as simple as a scritch, a belly rub, or a boop.”
So saying, you boop both of their noses with your index fingers. The two fillies giggle, then boop your nose right back. Scootaloo can’t help but giggle slightly at the sight.
“So, how would you two like to start?” you ask.
“Ear scratches!” says Apple Bloom.
“Tummy rubs!” says Sweetie Belle.
“One scritch and one belly rub, coming up,” you say. “Make yourselves comfy.”
The two fillies lie down on their backs in your lap, their hooves curled to their chests as they gaze up at you, looking even more like a pair of the cutest puppies you’ve ever seen. Feeling your heart melting at the sight, you cup Apple Bloom’s cheek in one hand and start scratching behind her ear with your fingers. Her eyes close blissfully, nuzzling her little cheek against your palm. You place your other hand on Sweetie Belle’s tummy, rubbing in slow circles. Sweetie Belle giggles and squirms at the sensation at first, but soon relaxes into it, sighing contentedly as she closes her eyes, her curly tail swishing. The stress and gloom that had been on the pair’s faces since that race have completely vanished. To add to the cuteness factor, they reach out with their little hooves and grip your hands, as if imploring you to keep them there and not stop. It’s already cute when an adult pony does it, but this is almost too much cute to handle.
While this goes on, Scootaloo watches, or, at least, she seems to be. When you look up at her, she’s turned herself away, as if she doesn’t want to watch. However, she does steal a glance now and then, but looks away hurriedly when she catches your eye. She must really look up to Rainbow Dash to want to deny doing something she didn’t think she would like. It makes you feel bad that she’s so undecided about it, and you wish you could tell her that Rainbow did enjoy affection therapy, but you promised you wouldn’t.
After a time, Apple Bloom opens her eyes to look up at you.
“Think Ah could have a belly rub now?” she asks, innocently.
“Of course,” you say.
Sweetie Belle opens her eyes.
“And maybe I could have an ear scritch now?” she asks, with the same innocence.
“Absolutely,” you say.
And so, you start doing what you were already doing, but for the opposite filly. Now Sweetie Belle is resting her cheek against your hand as you scratch behind her ear, and Apple Bloom is sighing in relaxation as you rub her tummy. Both of them are clearly in pure bliss.
This goes on for a little while longer, until you hear a sigh. You look up, and see that Scootaloo’s not even trying to hide her interest anymore.
“Is there something you wanted to say, Scootaloo?” you ask, politely. “Don’t be shy.”
Scootaloo rubs her foreleg awkwardly.
“Um, well,” she says, “I mean…I guess it…wouldn’t hurt if I…gave it a try…Right? Your affection stuff, I mean.”
She looks so shy about it that you can’t help but find it endearing. Just like Rainbow Dash, she wants to be tough and cool, but can’t hide her softer side for long.
“Of course you can try it, Scootaloo,” you say. “All you had to do was ask.”
Apple Bloom tilts her head back across your knee, so that she’s looking at Scootaloo upside down.
“Did Ah hear that right?” she asks. “You wanna give it a try, Scoot?”
Scootaloo blushes.
“Well, maybe for a little bit,” she says, shyly. “Once one of you is done, I mean.”
Apple Bloom smiles.
“Why not now?” she asks. “Ah’ve already had a turn before, so Ah can let you have the rest of mine.”
“Really?” asks Scootaloo, surprised.
“‘Course!” says Apple Bloom. “What are friends for?”
She sits up, stretching her forelegs and yawning, and you remove your hand from her middle.
“Thanks fer that,” she says. “Ya don’t mind me lettin’ Scootaloo take mah place, do ya?”
“Of course not,” you say. “It’s your session time, after all.”
Apple Bloom smiles sweetly, then hops down onto the grass, gesturing for Scootaloo to come on over. The little pegasus walks slowly over, looks up at you, then climbs up onto your lap beside Sweetie Belle, who’s still engrossed in having her ear scratched, and doesn’t seem to have noticed what’s going on.
“So, what’ll it be, Scootaloo?” you ask.
“Maybe…an ear scratch, like Sweetie Belle?” she asks.
“You’ve got it,” you say, booping her on the nose.
She giggles and rubs at her nose with her hoof, then boops you back with her other hoof. She then lies down on her back, curling her hooves up to her chest. Even as the ‘tough and sporty’ one of the trio, she’s still just as cute.
You cradle her cheek in your palm and start rubbing behind her ear. She looks surprised at the sensation at first, until her face breaks into the familiar dreamy smile. Her little wings flap very rapidly for a moment, more like the buzzing of a hummingbird than a typical pegasus beat, and her messy tail gives a swish. There’s no more hesitation or reluctance visible as she settles in, nuzzling your palm with a contented smile. You smile down at her, then look up at Apple Bloom, who’s also beaming at the sight.
Sweetie Belle stirs, shifting a little as she sleepily opens her eyes.
“How are you doing, Sweetie Belle?” you ask.
“Really great,” she says. “Do you think maybe-”
Her eyes fall on Scootaloo beside her, and she pauses in surprise.
“Oh, wow, Scootaloo actually went through with it? Good for her! She looks really happy.”
“Yeah, she does,” you say. “And so do you and Apple Bloom. What were you going to say, Sweetie Belle?”
“Oh! I was going to ask if I could have a little more tummy rubbing, and maybe another cookie.”
Well, that’s a first. You can’t remember when a pony’s asked you to return to a previous therapy technique after already being given it.
“Of course,” you say, giving her little belly a boop with your finger. “I did say you could help yourselves.”
Sweetie Belle giggles from the boop. Then, her horn lights up with a pale green glow, and a cookie is levitated off of the plate to hover before her muzzle. She nibbles away at it as you put your free hand on her belly and start rubbing again. Scootaloo stirs at this moment, looking up at you.
“Hey there, Scootaloo,” you say. “How are you feeling?”
“Great,” says Scootaloo, in a sleepy voice. “Do you think I could have a belly rub now?”
“Certainly.”
You remove your hand from Scootaloo’s cheek and rest it on her belly, running along it in slow, gentle circles. The little filly lets out a low hum of contentment, and her eyes close again as she rests her head on your knee, her hoof settling atop your hand. Sweetie Belle has finished her second cookie, and has also settled in for a belly-rub-doze, crumbs still dotting her muzzle.
“Is that what Ah looked like when I was havin’ a belly rub?” asks Apple Bloom in amusement.
“Just about,” you say. “Everypony who’s had a belly rub has pretty much reacted the same way. Doesn’t take long for them to zone out.”
“Just like Winona,” says Apple Bloom. “She can’t get enough of it when Applejack and Ah fuss over her. Ah can see why now.”
“I just hope you don’t mind giving up your session early,” you say.
“Course Ah don’t,” says Apple Bloom. “Like Ah said, Ah already had mah turn, and Ah didn’t want Sweetie Belle and Scoot to miss out on it.”
You can’t help but smile fondly at this.
“You three really are the best of friends,” you say. “It’s easy to see why you ended up with cutie marks that match each other.”
Apple Bloom smiles back.
“Thanks,” she says. “Ah feel lucky ta have ‘em as friends. Ah couldn’t imagine what Ah’d do if we’d never met. Ah might still be gettin’ teased fer havin’ a blank flank.”
Your smile fades a little at this, though it doesn’t stop you from your belly rubbing, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo remain blissfully undisturbed.
“That can be rough,” you say. “Back in Manehattan, I’ve seen my fair share of bullies on the streets, teasing foals without cutie marks. It made me sick seeing it.”
“Like what mah cousin Babs Seed went through,” says Apple Bloom, regretfully, before adding, in a brighter tone, “but she got her own cutie mark before we did, and she’s a lot happier now.”
“That’s good to hear,” you say. “From what I understand, before I moved to Ponyville, you three were very active in trying to earn your cutie marks.”
“Heh, yeah,” says Apple Bloom, rubbing the back of her head with an awkward laugh. “We…didn’t really understand what it took. We were just tryin’ out any ol’ thing and seein’ if we’d get a cutie mark in it. We didn’t really think about what we really wanted ta do with our lives. Took us a long time ta realize that what we really wanted…was ta help other ponies with their cutie mark problems.”
She looks down at the shield decorating her flank.
“That’s a remarkable talent to have,” you say, “and a nice one to share with your best friends.”
“Ah think so too,” says Apple Bloom, smiling. “Ah just wish we hadn’t made such dern fools out of ourselves tryin’ ta earn our marks.”
“Well, you were still learning,” you say, reasonably. “There’s nothing wrong with trying new things. You might even have found something you liked doing, even if it had nothing to do with your talent.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” says Apple Bloom.
There’s a pause, then Apple Bloom asks,
“Can Ah ask ya somethin’, if it ain’t too personal?”
“What is it?”
“If humans could get cutie marks, do ya think yours would be about affection therapy?”
You almost do stop belly rubbing at this question, but you quickly catch yourself and continue as you mull over how to answer that. It’s not like you haven’t considered that before. It just feels a bit surprising hearing somepony else ask it of you.
“Maybe,” you say, finally. “I mean, it took me until I was already an adult to figure out I was good at it, and I don’t know if there’s some limit to how long a pony can go without earning a cutie mark. You never hear about adult ponies that don’t have them, after all.”
Apple Bloom nods.
“It’s funny you bring that up, though,” you say, with a slight smile. “When I was a kid, before I came to Equestria, I had no idea humans couldn’t earn cutie marks. The hours I spent dreaming about what kind of cutie mark I’d get…I was full of wild ideas back then, so I guess I can relate to the cutie mark mania you and your friends went through.”
Apple Bloom giggles. You glance back down at Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, still blissfully conked out under the soporific power of the almighty tummy rub, and look up again…and give a small start of surprise. Apple Bloom notices, turns, and also gives a start.
Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash are standing a little ways off behind Apple Bloom, watching the scene before them. You don’t know how long they’ve been there, or if they’ve just arrived, but they looked tired. And yet, all three of them have warm smiles on their faces at the sight of the two fillies snuggled contentedly on your lap.
“Well, ain’t that a sight?” asks Applejack, quietly.
“How absolutely precious,” murmurs Rarity, looking close to tears.
“Even Scoot likes it,” says Rainbow, impressed. “Good for her.”
“Hey, girls,” you say. “Everything good?”
“The wreck’s all cleaned up,” says Rainbow. “Everypony’s agreed to move the redo race to tomorrow.”
“So we need ta get crackin’ if we’re gonna do it right this time,” says Applejack.
“Much as we don’t want to interrupt this,” says Rarity, nodding her head at the two foals.
“I understand,” you say.
You slow down the belly rubbing, gradually stopping, rather than an abrupt cessation. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo stir, yawning and stretching at almost the same time.
“How do you kids feel?” you ask.
“Really, really relaxed,” says Sweetie Belle.
“The best I’ve felt in a long time,” says Scootaloo.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” you say. “Your sisters are here to collect you, so I’m glad you feel all rested now.”
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo sit up and see their older sisters, who wave shyly at them. There’s a slight wariness in the latter’s expressions, as if they’re worried their little sisters are going to be cold with them again. However, as Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hop off your lap, all three fillies hurry over to their big sisters and hug them, wordlessly. The three older mares look stunned by the gesture, but eventually, they return the hugs. Applejack nuzzles Apple Bloom warmly, Rarity bursts into loud tears as she squeezes Sweetie Belle, and Rainbow drapes her wing around Scootaloo, nuzzling the top of her head. You simply sit and smile at the sight, feeling your heart melt all over again. Even though nopony said anything, there’s only one thing hugs like that can mean: forgiveness.
Applejack raises her head to look up at you.
“Thanks for bein’ there fer them, sugarcube,” she says.
“Yes,” says Rarity. “Thank you, dear.”
“Thanks, bud,” says Rainbow.
“You’re welcome, girls,” you say.
The triple hug soon breaks up, all six ponies looking cheerful.
“Don’t forget to thank him now,” says Applejack.
The Crusaders turn back to you, smiling brightly. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hop back up onto your lap, hugging you as well as they can with their little hooves, and you gladly reciprocate as they give you little nuzzles.
“Thank you,” they say together.
As for Scootaloo, she approaches shyly as you release Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. You’re not really expecting her to be the hug type, much like Rainbow Dash. Instead, with a smile no less grateful than those of her friends, she holds out her hoof.
“Thanks,” she says.
Smiling, you give it a bump with your fist.
“You’re welcome, Crusaders,” you say. “Good luck tomorrow. I’ll be looking forward to seeing the race redone.”
“So will we,” says Rainbow, “now that it’s just gonna be the students driving.”
“I’m gonna have ta break out mah best work duds if we’re really gonna build carts ta be proud of,” says Applejack. “I’ll even lend y’all some.”
“Er, thank you, Applejack,” says Rarity, delicately, “but I believe I have my own, ahem, ‘work duds’.”
“Eh, suit yerself,” says Applejack, shrugging.
“Mind if we take another cookie fer the road?” asks Apple Bloom.
“Not at all,” you say.
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo both grab a cookie. Sweetie Belle levitates another.
“That’s yer third one, Sweetie Belle,” says Apple Bloom, giving Sweetie Belle an amused nudge in the side with her elbow. “Yer gonna give yerself a bellyache if ya keep that up.”
“I’m not gonna eat the whole thing myself, silly,” says Sweetie Belle, as if that was obvious.
Using her magic, she splits the cookie in half, and levitates one half to Rarity, who looks surprised. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo do the same with theirs, handing half to their sisters, who also look surprised. Their surprise soon melts away into gratitude, however, as they accept the proffered treats.
“Welp, see ya tomorrow, pard,” says Applejack.
“Ta-ta, darling,” says Rarity.
“See ya,” says Rainbow.
“Bye!” say the Crusaders in unison.
“Take care,” you say.
The three sets of sisters take their leave. You stand up and give your arms a stretch as you watch them go. They might have just gone through a turbulent time, one that tested their bonds as siblings, but the best of brothers and sisters can still make it through the toughest of times, because they know they mean the world to each other. It reminds you of growing up with Spruce, and how much he stuck beside you like a true brother, even in spite of Clay’s cold disinterest.
That reminder brings the letter you wrote to mind, and you wonder if it was already sent. Surely the post office wouldn’t also be closed for the Applewood Derby, would it? You hope not, because you’re not sure how long you can handle the anticipation of waiting for a reply.
But then another thought hits you.
“Shoot,” you say to yourself. “That’s gonna be two days in a row now that the spa will be closed for the derby.”
But you content yourself by adding,
“But it wasn’t like today was unproductive. Who knows? Maybe somepony else will want a session tomorrow after the race. It’ll be another busy day for everypony.”
Consoled by this thought, you gather up the plate of cookies and, despite feeling odd about returning so early, start making your way back home.