//------------------------------// // The Search // Story: Bulletproof Heart: The Great, The Powerful, and the Bulletproof // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Unsurprisingly, the Arcaenum had secret passages. One of those led to a separate building a couple streets over. Trixie insisted she exit that way so as to avoid any guards watching the entrance, a precaution justified when Rarity once again spotted the same mare from earlier in the alley. She had to wonder just why Trixie was trying to avoid being seen by the authorities in the first place. It wasn’t like she was under house arrest. Not everypony had a lizard. In fact, Rarity was the only one. Thus did they all walk along the backstreets and byways. Except Scootaloo. As most foals did, she became instantly enamored with Ophelia and had been over the moon when it was suggested she ride, albeit with Rarity using the reins as a lead. Ophelia, if anything, appeared quite pleased with this development, frequently revealing her toothy grin. The filly was maintaining a running conversation with Blow Dry, leaving Rarity to focus her attention on Trixie. Just Trixie; Lyra had to stay at the Arcaenum since she was still on the clock. Sporting a dark purple cloak studded with stars that genuinely sparkled, Trixie was surprisingly quiet and alert, constantly glancing around as if expecting an attack at any moment. Curious and a little concerned, Rarity asked, “Is something the matter?” Trixie spared her only a cursory glance before going back to her scanning. “It’s nothing too serious. Just being cautious.” Rarity took a look around the compact streets. It was quiet. Not devoid of activity, but nowhere near as packed full of ponies as the main thoroughfares had been. Nopony in the area paid them any mind that she could see, save perhaps to smile at Scootaloo as she pretended to be a gunslinger atop Ophelia. Although the idea sounded absurd, she went ahead and asked, “Is this a dangerous area?” “Hardly.” Trixie pressed a hand to her collarbone and smugly declared, “Nothing is dangerous for the Great and Powerful…” A pause. The hand went down and she finished the line in almost a whisper. “Trixie.” Her eyes danced around, taking in everything around them and even above. Rarity wasn’t fooled in the slightest. She peered at the visibly anxious mare, who fidgeted under the attention. Now that she thought about it, it was Trixie’s idea to avoid the main roads. Checking to ensure neither Scootaloo nor Dry were paying them any attention, she asked, “Is somepony after you?” The mage scoffed and held her head high. “Trixie understands that being nosy is the kind of trait mares need to solve mysteries, but you should keep your attention on things that matter, like the current situation.” Okay, so she didn’t want to talk about it. Perhaps that was fair enough. Still, Rarity wanted to make things abundantly clear between them. She leaned a little closer and whispered directly into the mare’s flicking ear. “Keep your secrets, but if the ‘current situation’ puts that filly’s life in danger then you will answer to me.” The mage met her gaze with a stare that was neither angry nor worried. This lasted for only a second or two, interrupted by those dark, violet eyes flicking towards the ever-unaware Scootaloo. Then she faced forward and casually declared, “You’ll get your consultation when Trixie finishes finding Scootaloo’s sister and no sooner. She has to manage her job priorities, and you did volunteer to go second, she believes.” If Rarity’s social cues weren’t as rusty as she sometimes feared, then that was code for ‘I’ll tell you when there aren’t so many potentially prying ears’. Deeming this a reasonable enough response, she threw on a charming smile and replied, also at normal volume. “Oh, of course. I was only making conversation, darling.” The topic was dropped, but Trixie didn’t relax. Rarity had to wonder why she would wear that flashy cloak if she didn’t want to be seen, but left well enough alone. There was nothing she could do about it now, except perhaps cause a scene. That didn’t stop her from wondering why the former archmage’s apprentice was acting like a criminal watching out for the Manehattan Guard. It had been nearly a two-hour trip to reach Scootaloo’s modest home, a set of rented rooms in a wide, one-story building. This part of the city was clearly a poorer district, the houses appearing old and uncared for, yet the locals seemed pleasant enough. Scootaloo opened the door to the apartment with a brass key she’d been carrying in a pocket, leading them into a cramped space covered in dust. Trixie, waving her hand to keep the particles out of her face, was the one to ask the obvious. “If this is where you live, why does it look abandoned?” Indeed, ‘abandoned’ was the right term for it. They entered a combined kitchen and living room, the table and counters covered a pale gray from accumulated dust. There were no windows, and when Dry attempted to turn on the one magilight in the room by tapping its gem it only offered a feeble light, indicating a nearly empty charge. Scootaloo was already making her way through a hall leading to their left. “When my sister got with her boyfriend, we moved into his place. We’ve not been here in, like, a year.” “I believe it,” Dry muttered, gently slapping the side of the magilight in an attempt to make it brighten. “Uh, Rarity? Trixie? Can one of you come back here and give me a light?” “I’ve got it.” With a dramatic flourish of her cloak, the mage headed down the hallway, horn emitting a magenta radiance. That left Rarity alone with Blow Dry, who had given up on the magilight and was now rolling a small, oblong green peridot between his fingers. He studied it as if it held some great secret. When he spotted Rarity watching him, he shrugged, adjusted the pink skirt that was still slung over his shoulder, and said, “Just need something to do with my hands.” Rarity couldn’t resist a little smile. “The two of you seem close. How long have you been watching her?” “Close. Maybe.” The peridot twirled between his fingers as he stared at the dark hallway. “It’s just her and her ‘sister’, or it was until the boyfriend came into the picture. Now the sister spends all her time with the hubby enjoying the classy life. Kid wanted attention. Then I get hired to keep her safe. Had to be around because that’s literally my job.” And so Scootaloo latched onto him. The poor thing must miss her sister dearly. Even so, “It was good of you to step up.” He huffed and looked away. Maybe it was just a trick of the dim magilighting, but Rarity thought she saw a bit of pink in his cheeks. “Not like I had much choice.” The conversation petered out. Rarity didn’t mind. He had to be a stallion and pretend like this was all beneath him, but Rarity thought the whole thing cute. She’d spare him his masculinity and not nudge the topic any further. Scootaloo and Trixie returned not long afterwards, the latter carrying a small, worn book. Curious, Rarity had been expecting a trinket or a toy. She peered at it, thankful that Trixie’s magical aura made it easy to read the cover. “The Life and Times of a Manehattan Hansom Driver? Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.” Scootaloo, cheeks hot enough to start a fire, kicked at the floor and avoided her gaze. “It’s a favorite. And it was a gift. It’s not weird.” “Nopony’s saying it is,” Trixie noted in a tone that suggested the conversation was beneath her. “I think it is.” Dry flinched when Rarity flicked his ear. “What?” Scootaloo glared at the floor and said nothing. Trixie had her eyes closed, the book slowly rotating before her face. Her lips were set in a thin line of concentration, her mane fluttering in a light breeze that seemed to come from nowhere. “This will do the job nicely. There’s a clear link between two ponies, a link born of affection. And with that link and a little tweaking I can… Almost got it… There. “Here you go.” Trixie levitated the book down to Scootaloo, who took it as if afraid it might fall apart at her touch. “Can you feel the tug?” The child’s ears perked as she held the book. A blink, a twitch of the ears, and then she turned almost fully around to stare at a wall. “I feel like there’s something that way.” “That ‘something’ would be your sister,” Trixie proudly declared. “Just follow that tug and it will take you to her.” Scootaloo’s face lit up. “Great! Let’s go, Dry, if we hurry maybe we can—” She jerked to a stop and fell to a sitting position, the book sliding across the floor. She looked back to find her purple tail held firmly in place by Rarity’s magic. “Hey! What gives?” “A moment, if you please.” Rarity helped the filly up, casually brushing the dust from Scootaloo’s pants as she did. “Am I correct that you believe your sister is in some sort of peril?” Puzzled, Scootaloo replied, “She’s marrying into one of Manehattan’s ruling families. The politics are literally cutthroat, and she’s missing. What else am I supposed to assume?” “That she’s trying to spend some alone time with her hunk of stallion meat?” Dry didn’t flinch when the two mares and one filly gave him deadpan looks. “What? The guy’s more chiseled than a granite statue.” With a shake of her head, Rarity turned her focus on Trixie. “You’ve finished the specifics of your job. What do you intend to do now?” Clearly seeing where Rarity was going with this, the mage hesitantly glanced between her and Scootaloo. Defensively, she noted, “There’s no proof the child is going into danger.” No intention of going any further, then. “I’m afraid our consultation will have to wait until later.” With a disappointed huff, Rarity brought her attention back to the filly. “I’ll be going with you.” Scootaloo, still flummoxed by these events, looked owlishly up at her and asked, “You will?” Blow Dry took an anxious step forward. “You ain’t got to do that, Miss Belle.” “I insist.” “It’s not your business.” “I made it my business when I forked over two obsidians to get you through the door.” “We never asked you to do that.” “And yet I did.” “Doesn’t the Bulletproof Heart have better things to do than chase after some imaginative kid’s fantasies?” “Hey!” Scootaloo finally recovered enough to step into the argument. “Stop being a jerk. Besides, who wouldn’t want Rarity to come? There might be bad guys in need of shooting.” Rarity tittered nervously at that proclamation. Scootaloo sounded just a touch too enthusiastic about the prospect of ponies dying. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Come, let’s get going. I’d like to find your sister before sundown, if at all possible.” Dry did not appear convinced. If anything, he seemed even more worried, his lips set in a firm frown as he returned the peridot to his pants pocket. Regardless, he tossed the skirt still draped over his shoulder onto the table – the dust practically exploded outwards on impact – and waved at the door. “Ladies first.” The three of them exited and Scootaloo promptly began marching down the street, book held tightly to her chest and face set with determination. Rarity paused only long enough to attract Ophelia to her with a snap of her fingers and give the lizard a rub under the frills. Reins in hand, she took only a few steps before noticing the mage walking beside her. If anything, Trixie appeared even more nervous than she had on the way over. Her fingers toyed with the frayed edges of her cloak and her eyes darted everywhere all the time. Rarity studied her, then quietly asked, “I thought you were going back to the Arcaenum?” Trixie promptly straightened and tilted her chin up, assuming a haughty posture. Even so, she also kept her volume down. “Far be it for the Great and Powerful Trixie to leave a filly to fend for herself in a dangerous situation.” She looked ahead to make sure the other two weren’t paying attention. Tone far more sincere, she added, “Trixie wants to be helpful for once. And she… might also want something in return.” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “More than two obsidians?” Trixie met Rarity’s look with an expression of utmost severity. “What I want doesn’t come with a price tag.” Eyebrows narrowed, Rarity let a little ice slip into her words. “Does it involve shooting anypony?” “It involves information,” Trixie countered, not losing an ounce of solemnity. “That’s all.” As hard as she tried, Rarity could detect no dishonesty in the pony’s words or expression. It almost sounded like Trixie was going to ask her to do a job of some sort, but if she recalled Lyra correctly then Trixie was broke. Did she hope helping Scootaloo out on this little adventure would count as payment? Perhaps it did. Rarity couldn’t make any judgment calls without knowing what the mage wanted first, and there was nothing wrong with hearing her out. Refocusing her attention forward, she replied, “We’ll discuss this at your place when this is all over. Agreed?” “Agreed.” A beat. “And thank you.” Rarity’s ears perked at that. It sounded so… relieved. “For what?” “For not dismissing me outright.” Was that a common problem? Rarity couldn’t help but wonder. One would think the former apprentice of the Archmage of Manehattan would have the ear of many a pony. Perhaps there was more going on here than she realized. She’d deal with it later. For now, they had a sister to rescue. The book led the ponies away from the city center. Then away from the markets that made up the inner ring. When it became apparent that they might end up leaving Manehattan entirely, Trixie decided to refine her spell on the book a little. They were resting in a park, Scootaloo being distracted by a certain white dust devil who seemed so very pleased with the attention while Trixie worked her magic. She claimed that what she was doing now was both far more difficult and permanent, or at least long-lasting enough to outlive Scootaloo. As such, she demanded some time to herself to concentrate, and the others saw no reason to object. The mage went to a nearby gazebo and lost herself in her work. That left Rarity and Blow Dry sitting at a picnic table nearby, munching on some granola packets out of Ophelia’s panniers and watching Scootaloo. The filly was currently examining a reclining Ophelia’s claws one at a time, apparently fascinated by them. Dry gestured to the scene. “Should I be worried about that?” “Ophelia wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Rarity replied with proud confidence. “Unless that fly was trying to hurt Scootaloo, that is.” “If you say so.” Dry hardly appeared convinced, his gaze not leaving the filly as she brought her muzzle within inches of those short but sharp talons. He really was protective of her, wasn’t he? Rarity was confident that if she pointed it out he’d dismiss it as ‘just doing his job’. The look on his face wasn’t that of someone scared of losing a steady paycheck, though. Not wanting to confront his stallionhood pride, she decided to play things more subtly. “If I were that close to a lizard at her age, I think I’d have been terrified. Or grossed out.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off the filly and lizard. “She’s brave. Stupidly so, sometimes.” Rarity couldn’t help but grin. “She sounds like a handful.” His response came with a combination of both weariness and amusement. “You have no idea. Can’t blame her sister for wanting a break.” Humming in response, Rarity rested her cheek in her palm and smiled as Ophelia began sniffing the laughing filly’s hair. “Would it be too forward of me to ask what happened?” He finally tore his gaze away from them so that his confusion could be apparent. “What happened?” “Yes. To her parents.” His ears perked, the question catching him entirely off guard. He looked between Rarity and the filly. After a moment he took out his peridot and began rubbing it with both hands. A nervous tic, perhaps. “She doesn’t know.” “Oh.” Rarity frowned at the thought. “Was she too young?” He palmed the peridot, gave it a squeeze, moved it to the other hand and repeated the motion. “Something like that.” Rarity kept her eyes on Scootaloo, but studied him in her peripheral vision. “Wouldn’t her sister have told her?” He clenched the stone in one hand and gave Rarity a narrow-eyed stare. “Why are you asking?” “I was only curious.” She glanced at him, then away. “I’m overreaching. I apologize.” An awkward silence passed between them, interrupted by the occasional sound of Scootaloo talking to Ophelia. Seconds came and went. Rarity tried to find some way to change topics and get a fresh conversation going, but now she was more curious than ever. Perhaps it was the old gossip in her coming back. Gossipping was, she now understood, a potentially hurtful thing, but ah, it could be so much fun. Dry spoke up while she was still fighting against the old temptation. “Look, I don’t know the full story. Even if I did, it’s not my place to tell you. I can only say two things. Whatever the truth is, only Scoots’ sister knows it, and she does not want Scootaloo to find out. You want to know more? You’ll have to ask her when we find her.” “Right. Of course.” Rarity faced him to offer an apologetic smile, but he was back to focusing on Scootaloo. “Forgive my curiosity.” He didn’t acknowledge the statement. At first Rarity thought she’d truly offended him, but the more she watched the more she realized that he was deep in thought. His fingers shifted in a seemingly complex pattern, rotating the peridot through them in a slow dance of motion. His eyes kept shifting to the stone and back to the filly, and his lips were set in a thin, contemplative frown. Every now and then he’d stop the motion of the peridot between two fingers and raise it to his lips, almost as though he planned to take a bite out of it, only to think better of it and go back to twirling the thing. Curiosity struck, but Rarity reeled it in this time. She’d already been a bother once today, no need to pester him about a rock. She did have to wonder if he was related to the Pies in any way. They kept quiet until Trixie walked up to them some fifteen minutes later, book under an arm and a proud smile on her lips. “All done. Scootaloo, could you come over here?” As soon as she did, Trixie offered her the book. “You should be able to get better information now. Try it.” The filly took the book in both hands, her eyes going wide. “Whoa. Yeah, I see what you mean.” She promptly turned a south-eastern direction and pointed. “She’s that way. Like, exactly that way.” This was certainly an improvement. Before, Scootaloo said she had only a vague idea of direction. “Good, good.” Trixie nodded, but then gained a worried look. “Now. Can you get a sense of distance?” Scootaloo began to hum and mumble to herself. “Yes? It’s not clear, but I get the feeling that she’s… both close and not? It’s hard to explain.” She closed her eyes, keeping that one finger pointed to the southeast. “Don’t ask me for a number, but I definitely have something like distance in my head.” Patiently, Trixie knelt next to Scootaloo with a hand on the filly’s shoulder. “Okay, that’s good. Do you think she’s outside the city?” Dry leaned close to Rarity and whispered, “Do you think she could have done this from the beginning?” Rarity promptly elbowed him in the ribs. “Yes,” Scotaloo answered with full confidence. “Definitely outside the city. But not far outside it. And not moving, either. Wherever she is, she’s standing still right now.” Beyond the city. Rarity frowned up at the sky, but it was still a lovely blue. The sun was on its way to the horizon, but they had some time yet. Even so, it was starting to sound like they should have gathered some more lizards for the trip. “I don’t suppose either of you could easily grab some dust devils?” Scootaloo whipped around to glare at her. “Nopony’s getting cold hooves! You’re used to roughing it, aren’t you?” Unintimidated by her stare, Rarity replied with a lecturing, “Do you want to get there faster or slower?” Mouth opened. Mouth closed. Scootaloo looked abashed for all of three seconds before perking up. “You and me can go ahead! With Ophelia it shouldn’t take—” Dry set hands to hips and stared the filly down. “Not a chance in Tartarus.” “And it’s ‘you and I’,” Trixie added under her breath. Scootaloo’s wings buzzed as she met the stallion’s glare. “Come on, we’ve got to hurry!” Blow Dry scoffed. “Kid, you’re smarter than that.” He reached into another pocket and pulled out a bank booklet. “I’m sure there’s a stable around here somewhere, there always is, and your sister’s marrying into the agricultural elite. It won’t be too much trouble for them to pay me back for a few rented lizards.” Face turning tomato red, Scootaloo set her hands behind her back and kicked at the grass. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” He reached out to ruffle her mane. “It’s okay to be in a hurry. Just try to stop tunnel visioning so much.” He smiled when she slapped his hand away, Rarity watching the whole time. “Now come on. I’m sure if we ask around we can find a stable pretty quick. Think of how much time we’ll save.” Smoothing a head of mane that refused to be smoothed, Scootaloo grinned and replied, “Fine, but I’m riding Ophelia with Rarity. Ow!” She jumped back from the finger that had flicked her ear. “What was that for?” Dry gestured Rarity’s way. “Did you ask?” Despite giving him one more scowl and rubbing her ear, Scootaloo turned to Rarity and, with exaggerated politeness, asked, “May I ride Ophelia with you, Miss Belle?” She shot Dry a sharp look as she said the name, as if to ask ‘Happy now?’ Rarity primly responded, “Why yes, yes you may. Thank you for asking.” She waited until Scootaloo had turned to run towards Ophelia before winking at the stallion. The corner of his lip quirked up, but he restrained himself from offering a proper smile in return. Trixie sighed and raised a hand to Blow Dry. “I’m riding with you,” she muttered, not meeting their confused looks. It was Rarity who asked the obvious question. “Don’t you want one of your own, darling? I’m sure Mr. Dry will be compensated for a third lizard.” Trixie’s fingers fiddled with the corner of the cloak, her cheeks turning a little pink as she kept her eyes low. “Trixie doesn’t know how to ride one. And she doesn't want to learn. It’s bad enough she’ll have to be a passenger.” She shuddered a little at the statement. Rarity and Dry shared an uncertain glance. In his gaze she found a mutual agreement not to press the matter. “Come on, you guys!” Scootaloo waved at them impatiently from beside the lounging Ophelia. “We’ve got places to be!” They lost less than an hour on the lizard hunt. As the sun inched ever closer to the horizon, the ponies left Manehattan proper with Dry and Trixie on a rented lizard of their own. It was a soft pink color and named ‘Princess’. Scootaloo had tried to rib Dry about his choice, but the stallion was unflappable on the topic; he knew a good lizard when he saw one, or so he claimed. What did affect him was how tightly Trixie held onto him from behind, her cheek pressed against his back and her eyes tightly closed. Though he said nothing about it, his blush could have lit up the city. Rarity worked to keep Scootaloo distracted as they went, but her mind kept going back to the mage. Why was Trixie so afraid? Was it of the lizard itself, or the simple act of riding one? More than anything, Rarity pondered why a mare so terrified of such a thing would put herself through it. True, Rarity had wanted Trixie to come at first. Now that she knew what Trixie was putting herself through however, she wouldn’t have blamed the mage for bowing out of this one. Why didn’t she? They moved along tall but shallow hills coated in swaying green grasses and past the occasional thicket or briar patch. A powerful scent came with an east wind, just as much texture as smell: salty, thick, and moist. Rarity brought it up and was surprised to learn that it was the scent of the ocean. Even while in Manehattan, she had never been this close to it. That the Bulletproof Heart had never been to a beach before both amazed and gladdened Scootaloo, who relished the idea of being the first to share the experience with her. They crested a particularly tall hill, and there it was. Water, so much of it that it boggled her mind. Though there were still several hills between them and the beach, Rarity remained stunned at the idea of an entire horizon taken up by something other than land. She felt a strange temerity at the thought and was unpleasantly reminded that she was not a very good swimmer. Fortunately, there was something else in the area to distract from the seemingly endless water. From atop their hill could be seen a small log cabin. It was nestled in the valley of some distant hills and surrounded by what appeared to be an orchard. Even from this distance, the smoke rising from the chimney was visible. Scootaloo touched the book in her lap and promptly pointed at the structure. “There. That’s where we’re going.” “Oh, thank Luna,” Trixie hissed. Eyes still tightly closed, she asked, “Does that mean Trixie can get off this thing?” “Just a little bit further, Miss Lulamoon.” Blow Dry patted Trixie’s hand and whipped his reins, Princess taking the lead. As he passed by Ophelia, he tilted his head towards her and added, “Sure looks calm considering somepony’s supposed to be ‘in danger’.” Scootaloo tensed in Rarity’s lap, her ears folding back. “I don’t know this place,” she said, more to herself than her companions. “I don’t know it at all. Why would Sis come here?” Rarity wrapped an arm around the filly, giving her a squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of things soon enough.” With a gentle nudge of her boot, she urged Ophelia onwards. The rest of the journey went by quietly. Within another half hour, they were approaching the cabin. Now that they were so close, Rarity realized that the orchard consisted entirely of apple trees. The fruits were only just beginning to form and wouldn’t be ready to harvest for another season at least. It wasn’t a large orchard, maybe two or three acres, beyond which was naught but hills and grass and the distant, gentle lapping of waves. The cabin was tiny by Manehattan standards, only a story tall and largely undecorated aside from an apple-themed wind vane and a few flowers along the sides. The windows and front door were all open, letting in the cool ocean breeze that rolled over the hills. The ocean itself couldn’t be seen from down here, but the heavy scent of it was inescapable. Scootaloo made to jump off Ophelia, but Rarity held her tightly in place and shushed her. “If your sister is in danger,” she whispered into the filly’s perked ear, “then perhaps I should go first.” In truth, Rarity was starting to lean in Dry’s direction. Still, it was good to be cautious. Treating the threat seriously would both respect Scootaloo’s worries and keep Rarity herself safe in the extremely unlikely chance that something was wrong. Trixie all but fell off of Princess. She settled on her hands and knees, shaking like a leaf and staring at something beyond the hills and grasses, expression haunted. Scootaloo wasted no time going to check on her. Though tempted to join them, Rarity felt it would be prudent to address the house before somepony noticed the strangers in their front yard. Dry had the same idea, and so the two met halfway and faced the cabin. “Any ideas as to what this place is?” Rarity asked, undoing the safety straps on Ruby Heart and Silver Lining. “My bits are on a vacation home,” he replied. “And we’re about to crash said vacation.” Even so, she saw him ready his pistol. “If so, then why not tell Scootaloo or you about this place?” Dry gave her a knowing smile and replied, “So we wouldn’t crash the vacation.” Rarity met his gaze, then caught on. With a wane smile and a sigh, she asked, “Young lovers?” “Young lovers.” “Wonderful.” Rarity cast a quick look behind her. Trixie was now sitting in the grass, a little less pallid and holding hands with a visibly apologetic Scootaloo. The child noticed her looking but made no attempt to join them. Rarity wondered if such a decision had been difficult for her. At last, Rarity refocused her attention on the cabin. “Let’s get this over with.” “And let’s hope it’s not embarrassing for everypony involved,” Dry amended with a smirk. They got only halfway to the door when something huge passed through the portal and into the yard. That ‘something’ proved to be the single most exemplary display of stallion physique Rarity had ever laid eyes upon, a shirtless goliath who looked like he could snap one of the orchard’s trees with his bare hands. Clad only in blue jeans, herculean muscles dotted with freckles, the giant was as red as a fresh apple and sported a mane and short beard the color of fresh hay. Just one look at him had Rarity feeling hot in ways she usually didn’t associate such positive feelings towards. Blow Dry sighed, crossed his arms, and muttered, “You’re looking awfully healthy for somepony who is supposed to be kidnapped.” The stoic expression on the hunk’s face gained a hint of confusion. “Mr. Dry? What are you doing here?” Oh Celestia, that baritone could melt a glacier! “Big Mac!” Scootaloo was abruptly in front of the giant, barely coming to his waist. Her wings buzzed with eagerness as she grinned up at him. “You’re alright! I thought for sure you were in trouble.” ‘Big Mac’ set meaty hands to his hips and looked down at the filly, not appearing at all amused. “Scoots. Why would you think I’m in any sort of trouble?” Rarity had finally recovered from her most embarrassing moment of shock to recognize a very familiar and thick accent in the stallion’s words. Scootaloo kicked his shin, which appeared to have no effect whatsoever, and snapped, “Because you ran off without telling me anything! Where’s Sis?” “Scootaloo!” From out of the house came a pegasus mare in a yellow sun dress. Her pale green coat and wavy mane of mixed mint colors gave the impression of softness, but her eyes offered the familiar frustration of an elder sibling. “What in Luna’s name are you doing all the way out here?” “Sis!” Scootaloo rocketed past Big Mac to latch onto the mare’s waist. “You’re okay! Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Startled by this outburst, the mare gradually returned the hug. “Yeeeees?” She looked up at all the ponies that now surrounded them, eventually locking eyes with Blow Dry. “Did something happen back home that we should be worried about?” Blow Dry had the peridot pressed against his palm again, rubbing it with his fingers. He appeared monumentally bored. “Nope. The kid’s just overreacting to things.” “I wasn’t overreacting!” Scootaloo shot him a withering look, then spun back to face her sister. “You didn’t tell me where you were going. You didn’t even tell me you were going. You always tell me. What was I supposed to think?” The mare groaned and rubbed at her forehead. Yes, Rarity knew what that was like. Little sisters; so precious, yet so bothersome. “I didn’t tell you because I was trying to have a few private days with my fiancé. Was that really so much to ask?” Dry flicked the peridot like a coin, catching it easily. “Told you.” Rarity elbowed him in the ribs. “What?” “Gloating is unbecoming.” Trixie chose that moment to appear among the group, a smug smile on her lips. “But it’s so much fun. Speaking of, now would be the perfect time to praise the Great and Powerful Trixie for her charms.” Then, with a flick of her mane and a little laugh, “And the enchantment too, I suppose.” ‘Sis’ stared at Trixie. One would think a runaway leaper was about to slam into her at full speed. Not breaking eye contact, she said, “Scoots, please tell me you did not drag an infamous mage from her house arrest just to come looking for me.” “House arrest?!” Rarity whipped around to stare at said ‘infamous’ mage. Trixie’s bravado fled in an instant, her smile sheepish and her hands fiddling with her cloak’s frayed edges. “Ahem. Right. Did Trixie not mention that?” “Well, who would you rather I get?” Scootaloo asked with the utter confidence of youth. “The Manehattan Guard?” If anything, ‘Sis’ went even more stiff. “No, definitely not them.” “Could be worse,” Blow Dry said with dry amusement, pointing his chin at Rarity. “Could have lassoed a famous gunslinger into it too.” Big Mac, finally taking an active part in the conversation, stepped towards Rarity and offered a hand that fully encased Rarity’s when she shook it. “Everypony here knows who everypony else is, except for you. Hello, I’m McIntosh Apple. Everypony just calls me Big Mac.” “Forgive my rudeness.” ‘Sis’ stepped forward to offer the same handshake. Getting up close revealed that the pegasus was only a little taller than Rarity, which made her tiny compared to the bulk of her betrothed. “I’m so sorry my sister dragged you into this. I’m Vapor Trail, a pleasure.” “It’s quite alright,” Rarity replied with as engaging a smile as she could muster – which was quite engaging, if she were to permit a bit of ego. “Honestly, I put myself into the situation more than she did. Rarity Belle, charming and charmed in equal measure.” “Oh.” An excited gleam passed through Vapor Trail’s eyes, the corners of her lips tugging up in a knowing grin. “So you’re the pony that has Applejack all tied up in knots.” Now it was Rarity who was taken aback. “You know Applejack?” Vapor chuckled at her bewildered look and pointed a thumb towards Big Mac. “Well his name is McIntosh Apple.” Right. Scootoaloo did say that her sister was marrying into an agricultural family. She just never specified which one. She turned to appraise Big Mac a little more closely. “So you’re related to her, are you?” The stoic face became a warm smile. “She’s my little sister.” “Ah. Well, this has been a day of discovery, now hasn’t it?” An unpleasant worm of a thought wriggled through her brain, making her little pony hide in a closet as she eyed the house. “She’s not… around, is she?” Big McIntosh’s stoic expression returned. “Nope. Off at the Acres, visiting our little sister. Then she’s got rounds to do, properties to visit, meetings to have. Mare left her work behind for nearly a year and now she’s paying for it.” Right. Octavia had said as much that morning, had she not? Rarity wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. Maybe a bit of both? Repressing a sigh, she smiled and offered a neutral, “I see.” “So you’re ‘Rarity’,” Vapor said, as if this were a fascinating concept. “Then that means you are… Wait.” She stared at Rarity. Then at Blow Dry. The frustration returned to her features as she once more whipped around to glare at her kid sister, green wings stretching out to their limit. “Not only a mage under house arrest, but the Bulletproof Heart?! Scootaloo, what am I going to do with you?” An offer of dinner and a night’s stay were accepted by everypony present. Rarity had been concerned about room at the beginning, but it turned out the small cabin had a basement level that consisted of three spare bedrooms, a significant and fully stocked wine cellar, and storage for foodstuffs. These all were at glaring odds with the simple setup above of only three rooms made out to look like a tiny rural getaway. She supposed it was a place meant to appease preferred elements of both luxury and simple living. Night would soon be upon them, and Rarity was outside tending to Ophelia. ‘Tending’ in this case mostly meant keeping the dust devil company while she ate her day’s reward of lizard feed. Some distance away was Blow Dry with Princess, tending to her needs and generally keeping to himself. She didn’t notice Vapor Trail’s arrival at first. She was too busy rubbing beneath Ophelia’s frills and enjoying the lizard’s pleasant coos. Then she looked up and Vapor was there, admiring the two of them from a few steps away. The pegasus set her hands behind her back with a frail smile. “Am I interrupting?” “Not at all.” Rarity grinned and patted Ophelia’s shoulder. “My little attention hound here would love the extra company, wouldn’t you, my sweet?” The dust devil paused in her eating to glance at Vapor Trail, let out a faint trill, and went back to her feed bag. “See? She approves.” “Well as long as Ophelia’s okay with it, I guess.” With a cheerful smile, Vapor Trail walked around to the opposite side and began copying Rarity’s actions with the ease of experience. “Been a while since I had a lizard to care for. I bet Scootaloo took a liking to her real quick.” “She did, indeed.” Rarity’s curiosity drove her to ask, “So you used to care for lizards. Did you own a stable?” “Oh, no.” A wistful frown came upon the pegasus, though she didn’t stop rubbing and scratching. By Ophelia’s heightened coos, she was hitting all the right spots. “I used to travel in a caravan with my parents when I was a foal. Tending to the dust devils and thick scales was considered safe enough for a little filly, so that was my job. After they died I stayed in Manehattan doing other things. Low-key desk work, mostly.” Remembering Blow Dry’s reaction to her queries, Rarity elected not to pursue this topic any further. There were other things worth gossipping about, and some were certainly more fun than others. With a wicked smile, she said, “I can’t say I know too much about your situation, but going by appearances I’d say you’ve done very well for yourself.” Vapor Trail shot her a knowing wink. “Going by appearances, yes, I’d say I did. A pity there’s only one of him.” “Yes, quite the pity.” They shared a quiet chuckle at that, punctuated by a curious trill from Ophelia. When the light laughter drifted to an end, Vapor Trail offered a softer smile. “Scootaloo gave me the full story. I wanted to thank you for putting up with her. Big Mac plans to pay you back those obsidians.” Rarity hummed at this. Part of her wanted to object, seeing as the obsidians were a gift given freely without any expectation of a return. The more practical part reminded her that getting their worth back would be a nice outcome. Besides, rejecting would surely be deemed rude, and Rarity was never that. “I appreciate it, although I am obligated to at least make a token objection.” “Duly noted,” Vapor titteringly answered. Her gaze went over Ophelia’s head and towards Blow Dry. Rarity followed the view just in time to see something flash green. “There he goes again.” Rarity refocused on Ophelia, if only to ensure Dry didn’t notice her attention. The lizard let out a snort and raised her head with a ruffle of frills. Recognizing the signal of a belly properly sated, she walked around to pick up the feed bag. “What was that?” “He does it every few nights.” Vapor flashed a knowing smile and pointedly avoided looking Blow Dry’s way. “Scotaloo hears him whispering to the stone sometimes. Pretty sure he’s using it as a communicator to talk to his marefriend.” A marefriend? He never brought that up. Then again, it didn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d talk about without some prodding. “Have you asked him about it?” “As my fiancé would say: nope.” Vapor’s grin remained firmly in place, wry and smug and full of guilty pleasure. “It’s a lot more fun to gossip about it behind his back.” With practiced ease, Rarity held the bag up to Ophelia’s panniers while her magic tied it in place. She was going to have to restock on the stuff before she left Manehattan. “Wouldn’t it be even more fun to gossip about it when he’s within earshot?” The pegasus shrugged, watching as the ropes neatly tied themselves taut. “He’s very defensive about that gem. It’s as if he doesn’t want us to know he has a marefriend.” Her smile drooped. “Which is kind of sad.” “I suppose.” Rarity had no interest in delving into Blow Dry’s love life. Or rather, she was, but knew and respected that he wouldn’t appreciate her prying. Such an attitude was a far cry from how she’d been before starting this whole ‘Bulletproof Heart’ thing, but then she was different in a great many ways. She gripped Silver Lining, running her finger along its familiar knub, as a reminder of just how true that was. Still, there were other things worth gossipping about. Leaning her back against Ophelia and looking towards the cabin, she asked, “Has he always been so fond of Scootaloo?” Mimicking Rarity’s posture, Vapor regained her playful smile. “Not at first, but she grew on him. Good luck getting him to admit it. Which reminds me, what happened to the skirt of her dress?” It took a moment for Rarity to understand what the mare was talking about. “I believe they left it at your old apartment.” Vapor groaned. “That dress was a gift. I keep trying to get Scootaloo to be more like a filly, but she fights me at every turn. We’re about to be part of the agricultural elite. They have expectations. I need her to put her best hoof forward.” Ah, yes. Rarity’s old dream. Wealth and prestige, the best dresses (all designed by herself, of course), tea and crackers with the mayor and ballrooms dances with strapping suitors. It felt a bit shallow now, but perhaps that was only because she’d never attained and no longer sought  such heights. And yet… Frowning in thought, Rarity asked, “Are you sure that’s what she needs?” Vapor cocked her head in that way pegasi do, sharp and uncomfortable looking. “What do you mean?” “You’ve met Applejack,” Rarity reminded her. “Does she at all strike you as ‘girly’?” The pegasus shrugged, dismissing the point outright. “Applejack inherited her position. We’re marrying in. There’s a difference.” “She still has to do business here, doesn’t she?” “Mackey does most of that… but yes, there are times when she gets involved.” Rarity smirked at the thought. “And did she ever wear a dress, which would be the expectation?” “No.” Now Vapor was smirking, and Rarity abruptly didn’t like the look in her eyes. “She wears suits. Really nice suits that look really nice on her.” Vapor leaned close and whispered, “Pretty sure we’ve got a picture in the cabin somewhere.” Her laugh at Rarity’s dour stare was downright gleeful. Let the pegasus laugh. Rarity and Applejack might have left on better terms, but Rarity was a far cry from fully forgiving the mare her indiscretions. This whole courting nonsense wasn’t going to go anywhere. Only now did Rarity realize that perhaps the primary reason Vapor was out here was to investigate the mare Applejack was supposedly infatuated with. Infatuated. By the Night Mother’s moon, she hoped that wasn’t the case anymore. “Oh, stop looking so annoyed!” Vapor gave Rarity a playful push. “You should be flattered. AJ’s not that bad, is she?” You don’t know what she did. But it would do no good to anyone to bring it up. Better to leave it alone. “No, she’s not ‘bad’,” Rarity begrudgingly admitted. “In fact, she’s quite a good pony. But when she does make a mistake, she jumps into the manure as deep as she can go, and I have no intention of sullying my hands to help her get out.” With a huff and crossed arms, Rarity concluded, “She wants out? She’ll have to crawl on her own.” Vapor winced. “Ouch. She must have really stuck her hoof in it.” The response was a low growl. “That’s putting it lightly.” “Just give her time. If she really feels that strongly about you, she’ll find a way to make it up to you. She’s stubborn like that.” The pegasus stepped away from Ophelia, who had by now slipped into a deep slumber. Brushing her skirt as if to rid it of dirt, she turned back to Rarity. “Want to head inside? Trixie’s been putting on a little magic show for Scootaloo.” But Rarity had noted something out of the corner of her eye. It warranted the extra attention. “No, you go on. I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.” “Suit yourself.” As Vapor left, it dawned upon Rarity that the subject of Scootaloo wearing dresses was never resolved. She peered after Vapor, wondering if that was intentional. If so, then perhaps the mare would do well amongst the agricultural families. She only hoped Scootaloo didn’t have to keep fighting her sister on the subject of dresses too much more. But that topic had passed. Time for a new one. She turned to Blow Dry, who had been waiting just on the edge of the cabin’s lighting. “And what are you about, hmm?” He stepped forward, the combination of light from the cabin and surrounding darkness giving him a grim appearance. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed me.” When she offered no reply, he said, “I was thinking we should get out of here.” Cocking an eyebrow, Rarity carefully enunciated, “We?” He nodded. There was something ominously serious in the way he did so. “Me. You. Scootaloo and Trixie. Go back into the city and leave the couple to their coupling.” “It would be past midnight by the time we got to the city limits.” Turning to him, Rarity peered at his blank expression. “I hardly find it appropriate to make Scootaloo travel all that way this late.” Blow Dry grunted, although whether it was in agreement was unclear. “It would be better for Trixie. She could sneak back into the tower she’s apparently not supposed to leave. Much easier to do at night.” “I’m staying the night,” Rarity assured him. “I don’t get to sleep in a proper bed very often and I’m loath to interrupt such an opportunity.” She tactfully didn’t mention that she was supposed to be staying at Octavia’s. Hopefully the dear musician wasn’t worried about her unexpected absence. “You’re free to ask Trixie if she wants to accompany you.” Even as she said it, she felt a lingering insecurity. “Can’t go anywhere without the kid,” he firmly replied. “It’s kind of my job.” So what was he getting at? Did he want her to take Trixie and leave? She couldn’t imagine what reason he’d have for that. It was almost as if… “Mr. Dry, are you trying to get rid of me?” “No, I just…” He sighed and looked away. Even in the shadows, his uncertainty was plain to see. After several long seconds, he stepped further into the light. “I appreciate your help today, Miss Belle. Really. I just don’t like being here. It feels like we’re intruding, and it feels like it’s my fault. I could have put a stop to Scootaloo’s antics at any time, but instead I let her drag us out here to what is clearly some sort of pre-marriage honeymoon.” Crossing her arms, Rarity at last found his purpose. “Worried about your job?” He tucked a hand in his pocket, undoubtedly to grip his peridot. Fleetingly, he met her gaze. “A little.” With a warm smile, she shook her head. “Scootaloo likes you. Even if this was a serious issue, she wouldn’t let them fire you. You’re worrying too much.” “That’s easy for you to say.” He shot her a pleading look. “You sure I can’t convince you to go?” “I’m sure. And I doubt Vapor or Big Mac would approve of Scootaloo leaving so late.” She flashed him one more of her charming smiles before turning for the cabin. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Scootaloo’s word goes further than you think.” He said nothing, nor did he follow her. She wouldn’t stick around to reassure him. Somehow she doubted it would do any good.