Chapter 16
Scootaloo's First Flight
A small crowd was waiting for Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle as they arrived at the park. Twilight, Rainbow, and Apple Bloom waved at their approach. Scootaloo stopped at the bench and Sweetie Belle hugged tighter to her back, nuzzling into her neck, before stepping off. Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow at Scootaloo, who shrugged and smiled, pink dots coloring her cheeks.
“Alright!” Rainbow exclaimed, raising a hoof towards Twilight. Twilight clacked her own against it and giggled.
Scootaloo turned to Twilight and nearly fell off her scooter.
Small and bright, Twilight had a blue feather in her mane, braided into place with hair and magic, a permanent and glowing addition to her face. Scootaloo’s jaw fell open. She looked quickly back and forth between the two mares and blurted out, “Oh my gosh, congratulations!”
A pleased smile lit up Rainbow’s face and she took Twilight’s hoof in her own. “Thanks, Scoots.” She winked and said, “You too,” in a teasing tone.
Apple Bloom glanced back and forth from Scootaloo to the two adults, her expression bewildered. Sweetie Belle leaned close to her fillyfriend’s ear and murmured, “I’ll tell her.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. You’re right. Everypony important’s gonna be fine.” She cantered to the bench.
Rainbow turned to Twilight’s saddle bag and reached her head inside. When she turned back, she had a pair of flight goggles in her mouth and she turned towards the hill. “Time for a show,” she mumbled around the nylon strap.
“Good luck!” Twilight cheered.
Apple Bloom jumped off the bench and tackled Scootaloo in a hug, followed closely by Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo hugged them both, feeling their faces pressed to either cheek. Apple Bloom whispered, “You’re gonna be great. Good luck.”
Sweetie Belle kissed her on the cheek.
Grinning, Scootaloo hugged tighter, and then let them return to the bench. She beamed at the three before turning and following Rainbow.
At the top of the hill, Rainbow sat down and dropped the goggles into her hoof. She murmured, “C’mere.” Scootaloo stepped closer and Rainbow carefully strapped the goggles onto her face, gently brushing her mane out of the way and centering the lenses securely over her eyes. “There.” Her voice dropped low, warm and understated. “These are yours now.”
“Thanks.” Scootaloo grinned and touched her hoof to the goggles, feeling the durable weave of the strap, solid metal frames, and thick, scratch-proof lenses. She didn’t know much about flight accessories, but she could tell just by the touch and feel that these were high quality and designed to stand up to intense use.
“They were my dad’s. When he first flew, the Wonderbolts made him an honorary member of the team. This is what they gave him.”
Scootaloo’s eyes widened. She ran her hoof back over the strap and found the small indentation of the lightning bolt, stitched tightly into the nylon. Her voice came out awed and hushed. “What? I…I can’t take these…”
“They’re yours.” Rainbow set her hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “You earned them. Every single bit of ‘em. You worked hard, Scoots. Harder’n I’ve ever seen anypony work. And not just here, with me. With Twilight, too. An’ all while you had a ton of other stuff on your mind, eatin’ at you. I could see it, but you never let it stop you. Every single day of trainin’, you brought your all.” She touched the frames of the goggles gently. “Everything these represent…the team and its ideals, the drive and strength, and most of all, the pony they belonged to. If my dad were here, I know he’d give you these himself.”
Rainbow’s voice dropped low as she swept Scootaloo into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Scoots.”
Scootaloo closed her eyes, nestled into Rainbow’s chest. Part of her didn’t even need to fly anymore. Everything was already perfect.
Still holding the filly, Rainbow’s voice took on a warm and amused playfulness. “And I’m proud of you for finally talkin’ to Sweetie Belle. I’ve been waitin’ months.”
Scootaloo giggled and shook her head. “Was I really obvious?”
“Totally.”
She sighed and smirked. “Well, you were right about another thing. Kissin’ somepony without talkin’ about it first is really awkward.”
Rainbow sat back, regarding Scootaloo. At the filly’s exasperated and self-effacing expression, she snorted loudly. “Aw man. How bad?”
“Really, really bad,” she moaned. A warm smile slowly spread across her muzzle. “But...it’s all awesome now.”
Snickering, Rainbow clapped Scootaloo on the shoulder. “Well, don’t beat yourself up about it too much. Just somethin’ else we have in common.”
Scootaloo laughed ruefully and shook her head.
Rainbow leaned closer, a predatory glimmer in her eyes. “So...you ready to fly?”
“I’ve always been ready.”
“I know.”
The two silently stood and extended their wings, fluffing out their feathers in tandem and shaking their muscles loose. Scootaloo automatically raced through the plethora of wing positions and adjusted the Wonderbolts goggles on her face. Buckaneer Blaze’s goggles. Her goggles.
They traded a confident smirk and turned back to their audience. Twilight beamed brightly, swinging her hindlegs merrily off the bench. Apple Bloom, a blush on her face evident across the distance, hugged a giggling Sweetie Belle with one foreleg. Both waved enthusiastically.
“Alright, Scoots,” Rainbow murmured, “On the count of three?”
“One,” they both said, crouching down and spreading their wings.
“Two.” Scootaloo flexed her legs tight, ready to push off with all her strength.
“Three!”
Their wings dropped downwards and they leapt from the ground. Five beats later, with the wind in her mane and racing across her feathers, howling against her ears, and rustling the fine hairs of her coat, the filly knew one, undeniable, unequivocal fact.
She was flying.
A howl of joy filled the park.
She darted away from the upward ascent alongside Rainbow, curving off across the sky. She pumped her wings, catching the air, bending it, forcing it to her will, sending herself barreling through space. The air tugged at her mouth, stretching her smile even wider. The glass over her eyes kept her vision clear, or she surely would be squinting.
She discovered she was laughing.
She hit an updraft and spread her feathers wide, catching and shaping the warm air to propel her higher. She tucked and spun, whirling in a corkscrew, hearing her own mirth thunder over her shoulder.
A cage Scootaloo didn’t even know existed had been torn away, smashed to twisted pieces like a rickshaw at the bottom of a hill. She was free. For the first time in her life, she was free.
Scootaloo whooped, careening out of the spin and darting straight up. She caught a glimpse of Rainbow Dash off to the side, watching her. A burning desire to show off spread through her body, and without slowing down she turned sharply, instantly parallel with the ground. She beat her small wings harder, pushing her speed, willing herself faster. She turned again. And again.
The force pulling at her threatened to crush the breath from her lungs. Each twist sent violent vibrations rattling down to her hooves. Aches ran to her spine each time her feathers bent away from the sudden shifts.
All the training with Rainbow was immediately apparent; without all that work, she never would have been able to move like she was moving.
Her laughter grew louder still and she aimed for a small cloud. At breakneck speeds her scooter couldn’t hope to reach, she careened through the puff, feeling the humid breath on her face as it exploded to vapor. She flew to another and whipped around it in a barrel roll, sending it into a lopsided spin.
Flinging herself upward, she arched across the park. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes widened. She was going fast enough to leave a trail, thick and purple to match her mane, billowing like tongues of flame. She grinned maniacally, turning aggressively, watching her trail twist and bend to follow her hooves. With a devil-may-care laugh on her lips, she spun upwards, letting her speed bleed away, gravity slowly catching up and pulling her back towards the ground.
At the apex of her ascent, she hung suspended in the sky, weightless, wings spread and still, completely and utterly free. In the instance of absolute freedom, she touched the side of her goggles and an image leapt to mind. She smirked in challenge, spun to face the ground, and plummeted.
Wings a rapid blur and color bleeding into the sky behind her, Scootaloo turned sharply to the side and slightly upwards, feeling her bones rattle from the force, gritting her teeth to keep them from clacking. Twenty feet forward, she almost entirely reversed direction, aiming towards the ground back the way she came.
Another twenty feet, she sharply turned up again, then back down, heading almost straight for the ground. Fifty feet down and watching the blades of grass grow distinct, she slammed her wings and rocketed straight up. Back in the sky, she made four more violent and aggressive turns, drawing aches to her joints and ringing to her ears.
At her original height, she leveled herself parallel with the ground and raced to her starting point, catching the fading fire of her flight trail.
She flew away and flared her wings, eyes trained on what she had drawn in the sky.
Suspended in the air, outlined in shaky and crude flames, the angles off in places, and the whole thing slightly crooked, stood the Wonderbolt’s double-bend lightning bolt symbol. It was awkward and amateurish, and her trail was already fading from the first half. But it was hers. She had made it.
It was perfect.
As she looked, hovering in stillness and watching the mark fade, the determined gaze of Rainbow’s father, challenging and fierce, full of strength, full of pride, filled her mind. “This was for you,” she whispered.
A blinding flash lit up the sky.
Scootaloo whirled in place, looking for the source of light, finding it always behind her. She looked over her shoulder.
The glow faded slowly from her flanks. A lightning bolt with two bends made of purple fire raced down her leg.
Scootaloo whipped around in a blur to find Rainbow Dash, fifty yards away and slightly higher, hovering in place. She flapped with all her strength and exploded through the air, color pouring from her hooves, rocketing with all her might straight at her coach.
Her voice, full of endless joy, rebounded throughout all of Ponyville. “I got my cutie mark!”
She careened into Rainbow Dash at full speed. The pair tumbled away, a whirling ball of hooves, feathers, and giggles. Rainbow’s wings flared and she regained control, hugging Scootaloo to her chest. “That was awesome,” Rainbow marveled, “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m so happy.” She hugged tighter, wrapped in Rainbow’s legs.
“Hey, Scoots,” Rainbow said, a hint of challenging mischief in her voice, “Wanna race?”
Scootaloo pulled away and immediately shot off, cackling. Rainbow darted to catch up and they blasted through the air, side by side, looping a giant circle over the park.
Rainbow was always a single beat in front of her. For every minute increase in speed Scootaloo could put on, Rainbow matched it, pulling forward, giving the filly a goal, the next limit to push through. Her small wings buzzed angrily in the more and more turbulent sky. Pockets of different air pressures, crosswinds, and temperature fluctuations battered Scootaloo’s body. Her back began to burn from the exertion, but she pushed on, compensating for the rough air, always increasing, always reaching for the mare just in the lead.
It was a hopeless battle. Rainbow’s larger wings, the perfect size and shape for speed and attached to a pony with over a decade of elite training, would always be a flap ahead of her. Scootaloo didn’t care. She was free, free of the ground, free of struggling, free of the words and numbers that jumbled up in her head, with an endless and open sky stretching away in every direction.
She hit her body’s limit. Her wings shuddered violently and refused to go faster. She strained her eyes forward, reaching for Rainbow with all her strength. Her flight path began to waver in the high, buffering winds.
Rainbow Dash fell back a foot and darted sideways, sweeping the flagging filly into her legs. Scootaloo grinned, feeling her aching wings pressed into Rainbow’s chest, watching the sky in front of them. Rainbow beat her wings faster. The very air began to bend as Scootaloo watched.
Five more beats and the world exploded.
The air was ripped asunder, fleeing from in front of the pair as sound, light, and color flooded everything. Scootaloo’s eyes vibrated in her skull and her ears rang. The massive, concussive, reality-destroying shred in the sky thundered all around them, staining the world with too much vibrancy, too much clarity.
Scootaloo was in the heart of a sonic rainboom, and it shook her to her core.
They blazed through space, faster than the filly had ever been, faster than she could imagine. And her mind was clear and blank, filled only with the raw, overwhelming magic of the rainboom. They circled back, slowly dropping in speed, watching the rough blur of Ponyville regain focus. Scootaloo twisted in Rainbow’s embrace and hugged her tight.
“Thank you,” she whispered over the wind.
Rainbow glided to a stable hover, holding the filly, stroking her mane. “I said I’d take you flying.”
“It’s more than I could ever dream!” she cried. Her goggles began to fog up from the inside, her eyes stinging from the pure exhilaration. She roughly pulled them off to hang around her neck and re-strengthened her hug. Her heart was bursting, her mind an inarticulate buzz of nothing and everything all at once. “It was perfect! Better’n perfect!” She squeezed with all her might. “I love you, Rainbow Dash!”
Scootaloo froze. Her eyes grew wide and she forgot how to breathe, trying to wrap her head around what she had just said. She mentally screamed at herself, she cringed, she shook with guilt and fear. ‘Nononono, I didn’t say that…’ Scootaloo pulled away to flee. She crossed a line, she knew she had, she needed to get away.
Rainbow’s hooves wouldn’t let her go.
She twisted and squirmed, blathering, “I’m sorry, Rainbow, I shouldn’t have said that, you’ve been so great, I wasn’t thinking, I—” In her struggles, she brushed her forehead against Rainbow’s cheek, and her brow came away wet. She stilled immediately and lifted her gaze, her eyes wide and disbelieving. She whispered, “Are…are you crying?”
Rainbow buried her face in Scootaloo’s mane, holding her close and sniffling loudly. “I cried for you, you know. When Mrs. Taker took you that day, I started crying as soon as the door shut, and didn’t stop ‘til you came back.”
Scootaloo couldn’t make herself breathe, so she held still against Rainbow’s chest.
“I thought I was never gonna see you again. If she had her way, it would’ve been the last time I ever saw you, Scoots. I cried and cried into Twilight’s chest. I was so afraid...and there wasn’t anything we could really do. Maybe, if things got really bad for you, we could’ve...It didn’t come to that, but it hurt so much to think you were gone.”
“Rainbow…” Scootaloo murmured.
“I love you, too, Scoots. With all my heart. You’re the family I lost.”
Scootaloo closed her eyes as tears streamed down her face.
“Listen,” Rainbow said, her voice rough, “Twi’ and me’ve been talking, and…if you want it...we want you to come live with us. We, uh, we’ll need some time to get it all set up, but we have a room for you with us. A home with us. You…you don’t have to call me or Twi’ mom, or anything, but we’ll take care of you. We can be a family.”
Scootaloo’s heart ached. She hugged Rainbow harder, as tight as her powerful little legs could squeeze, crushingly, desperately, maniacally hard. “I’ve never been so happy,” she choked out through her sobs. Rainbow stroked her mane slowly as burning, relieved tears fled her body, a ragged and infected wound in her soul slowly being ripped away piece by piece.
In the sky, Scootaloo found freedom. In Rainbow’s embrace, Scootaloo found a place where she belonged.
Sniffling loudly, Scootaloo whispered, “Rainbow?”
Rainbow’s voice wavered with her own tears. “Y-yeah?”
“Can I call you mom?”
A loud sob broke her voice and she strengthened her embrace, almost curling around the filly. “I-if you want to.”
“L-let’s go back down…mom.”
The two broke apart and beelined with nearly dangerous speed back to the ground. Twilight’s eyes widened from puzzlement to shock at their approach and they tackled her off the bench, holding her to the ground.
Her voice mystified, Twilight mumbled, “W-what? Scootaloo, you looked great up there, but what’s going—?”
“Can I call you mom, too?”
Twilight’s heart skipped several beats. She nodded her head in a daze and hugged the two roughly, holding them tight. Her own happy sobs soon joined those of her family’s.
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hopped down from the bench, eyes wide and bewildered. Apple Bloom cleared her throat. “What’s goin’ on? Is everythin’ okay?”
Scootaloo turned to her two friends in the embrace, eyes bright and wet, “I...I’m gonna live with Rainbow and Twilight. I...I have a family.” At their astonished faces, Scootaloo pulled a hoof away and beckoned, drawing her friends into the hug. “You’re both part of it, too,” she whispered.
“Scoots...” the two marveled, while being pulled in close.
“I have a family,” Scootaloo sobbed, squeezing with utter ferocity.
Sweetie Belle sniffled and hugged back, pressing into Scootaloo’s cheek. Apple Bloom bit her lip and closed her eyes.
For a very, very long time, all they could do was hold each other and cry tears of joy, wrapped tightly around each other in the middle of the park.
Twilight and Rainbow crossed the town center at a sedate pace, uneasiness slowing their steps. Twilight chewed her lip and adjusted her saddlebag as they passed out of downtown Ponyville and into the Takers’ neighborhood. “This is gonna be so awkward, Rainbow.”
Rainbow chuckled with unease. “It’s, uh…yeah, let’s go with awkward.”
“I mean, maybe if we’d seen her at all after…”
“Don’t…erm…Try not to worry about it, babe. I’m…sure it’ll be fine!” Rainbow’s cheery voice matched her lock-jaw grin in authenticity. Twilight rolled her eyes.
Cantering down the last block, they spotted Scootaloo’s scooter leaning up against the wall of the house and paused at the fence, each taking several deep breaths.
Twilight murmured, “I think I’d rather climb a mountain and ask a napping dragon to leave again.”
“Should we go get Fluttershy?” Rainbow teased without much conviction.
“Har har. Let’s just go get this over with.” She opened the gate and stepped into the yard.
“Hey,” Rainbow mused, “That patch on the roof kinda looks like a duck.”
“You would notice that, Fluff-head.”
Rainbow snickered nervously and raised her hoof to the door. She swallowed heavily. “You, uh…you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” She raised her hoof next to her fiancée’s and they knocked simultaneously.
The door swung open and Scootaloo called, “You’re here!” She leapt up and hugged them both roughly around the neck. She leapt back and rushed up the stairs, calling, “I’m gonna get all my stuff! Mrs. Taker’s in the kitchen!”
The pair glanced around the living room with trepidation and made their way across the groaning floor, peering into the kitchen.
Mrs. Taker sat at the table, slumped over and sipping from a mug. She glanced up at the two mares and their eyes met.
Rainbow Dash mentally overlaid the last time she had made eye-contact with Mrs. Taker. The phantom look of revulsion was in sharp contrast to the dull and listless emptiness of her current expression. Rainbow blinked in surprise and shook her head.
Twilight frowned thoughtfully; she had never seen somepony who looked so tired, not even Rarity after staying up for days filling an order. After a moment’s hesitation, she settled on following formality. She cleared her throat. “Mrs. Taker? Rainbow Dash and I have made the decision to adopt Scootaloo, pending our wedding.” She stepped to the table and slid her saddlebag open. “We’ve both discussed this with Scootaloo, and it’s what she wants, too. I’ve drafted the paperwork necessary to transfer her into our custody as foster guardians.”
Twilight floated a folder from her bag, opening it and removing several sheets of paper. She spread them out on the table. “If you’ll sign these, it will make things go a lot smoother for everypony.” Twilight’s voice took on a hard edge. “Please sign them. It’s what Scootaloo wants and we will go through the necessary channels if you refuse.”
Mrs. Taker’s gaze drifted aimlessly from Twilight, to Rainbow Dash, to the paperwork. A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of Scootaloo thumping back down the stairs. Rainbow poked her head out of the kitchen and murmured, “We’ll just be a few minutes, kay?”
“Okay…mom.” Scootaloo’s grin grew wide and her pulse jumped, calling Rainbow Dash mom, meaning it. She practically floated to the couch and sat down, fidgeting with excitement.
Rainbow turned back to the mares, the smile sliding off her face in the discomfort of the room.
A long, slow, deflating breath expelled from Mrs. Taker’s muzzle as she wilted in on herself. Her voice came out low and creaky. “…I’m usually a very good judge of character.” She looked back up, catching their gazes and making them almost step back in shock. Tired, dull, and listless didn’t do her justice. Mrs. Taker was broken. “I should’ve trusted my first impression of you both.”
Twilight extended a hoof towards the mare, her voice full of concern. “Mrs. Taker, are you okay?”
“…Care,” she muttered, “You can call me Care.” She looked back down at the spread of papers and scuffed her hooves along the table. “…I’ll sign.”
Twilight shared a bewildered and nearly frightened look with Rainbow. “Care, are you alright?”
There was a long pause as Mrs. Taker sat, bowed forward with her expression hidden by her bangs. When she spoke again, her words came slowly and haltingly. “…I never meant for any of this. All the other fillies and colts I’ve watched in this house were much younger than Scootaloo. I’d have them here for a year or two at the most and then they’d get adopted. Before Scootaloo, the oldest foal I had in my care was seven.”
She stood from her chair and turned towards the counter, taking plodding steps. “You have to understand…I didn’t…” She stopped halfway across the room and sagged where she stood. “…Scootaloo stopped being a foal I was just supposed to keep an eye on a long time ago.” She stepped forward again and opened a drawer, drawing out a pot of ink, a worn quill, and an envelope. She headed back to the table and sat down.
Uncapping the ink, she continued around the feather in her teeth, “These were always the happiest times in this house, when a new mom and dad…” She looked up at the couple and shook her head. “New parents came to take a growing colt or filly to start a new life. I was always just the in-between.” She dropped the end of the quill in the ink pot and drew the first sheet close. “When the new parents never came for Scootaloo…she didn’t need a custodian anymore.” She signed her name resolutely to the sheet. “She needed a mom.”
With careful attention, Mrs. Taker worked her way through all the paperwork in silence. When she was finished, she dropped the quill into the pot and leaned back. “…I was blind to what she needed from me. And when I saw it, it was too late…and I was a coward.”
The couple met Mrs. Taker’s gaze head on as her eyes traced over them, some of the emptiness drained and replaced by shrewd scrutiny. Eventually the mare nodded. “You won’t make the same mistake I did. You’re like any of the other parents that have come through my door. Scootaloo will have the mothers she needs…” She dropped her gaze. “The mothers she deserves. And she’ll grow to be a great mare.”
Mrs. Taker checked the ink for dryness on the paperwork and stacked it all together neatly. She carefully and reverently set her envelope on top of the pile and slid the bundle across the table to Twilight. “When you think she’s ready for it, please give Scootaloo this letter. It’s…what I should have said to her months ago.” Her head and voice dropped low. “No…years ago.”
Rainbow cantered to the table and lifted the envelope, tucking it out of sight under her wing, giving Mrs. Taker a firm nod. Twilight levitated the papers back into the folder and returned them to her saddlebag. She cleared her throat and said, “Thank you,” with as much grace as she could muster.
“Take care of her.”
“We will,” Twilight and Rainbow promised in tandem. With measured steps, they left the kitchen.
“C’mon, Scoots,” Rainbow said evenly, eyeing the single box by the door. “We’re all set. Let’s go home.”
Jumping off the couch, Scootaloo rushed to the door, bouncing in place. Rainbow smirked and shook her head, hefting the box off the floor and onto her back. “This it?”
“Yep!” The filly opened the door and grabbed her ride. She hopped on and buzzed her wings, lifting off the ground. Rainbow watched in amusement as her…daughter rode around on the scooter three feet off the ground, its wheels spinning lazily in the breeze. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Twilight shut the door behind them. “You want me to get that, Rainbow?” She prodded the box with a hoof. “Easy enough for me to carry it with magic.”
“Nah, it’s not heavy.” She set off at a brisk canter, the box bouncing on her back, following Scootaloo out into the street. The trip back across town went quickly, the couple practically skipping in their walk with Scootaloo flying around them in circles. Twilight opened the door to the library on their approach and Scootaloo dropped her scooter to the ground, flying in through the open portal. Twilight lifted the box in a glow of magic off Rainbow’s back and kissed her fiancée on the cheek.
Rainbow kissed Twilight back and mumbled, “You take her up first so I can put this letter somewhere.”
Twilight nodded and hurried in after the filly. Rainbow shut the door quietly behind herself and slipped over to Twilight’s desk, sliding open her personal drawer. Far more carefully than when she hid her Wonderbolt acceptance letter, she opened her wing and set Mrs. Taker’s note under a stack of journals. She tapped the drawer closed with a kick and climbed the stairs.
Passing by Spike’s room, she approached the second door, halfway up the stairs to her and Twilight’s room. A fond smile spread across her face as she thought of how many times she’d passed the spare room without giving it a glance. That would never happen again. The realization widened her smile as she entered.
Scootaloo bounced on the freshly made bed that was off to one corner, giggling merrily. “The springs’re way better on this one than my old one!” Twilight stood in the middle of the room over the box of their daughter’s belongings. A dresser was at the foot of the bed and a small writing desk sat along the opposite wall in the cozy room.
Rainbow sidled up to her fiancée, sliding her wing along the mare’s back. Twilight stared into the open box, a frown creasing her muzzle. Rainbow followed her gaze.
Inside the box, Scootaloo’s Wonderbolt goggles sat on top of a Rainbow Dash Fan Club wig, her folded up Cutie Mark Crusader cape, her talent show outfit, and a stack of old homework papers, quills, and ink bottles. Twilight’s frown deepened. “Is…is this all of your stuff?”
“Well, yeah,” Scootaloo answered, hopping off the bed. “What else would I have? I don’t have any fancy dresses or anything.” She stuck out her tongue in distaste.
Twilight touched the side of the box with her hoof and said nothing.
Spike wandered into the room off the stairs. “Hey, you guys’re here!” He scampered over to the filly and hugged her around the neck. “Scootaloo! Welcome to the family!”
“Thanks, Spike,” she said warmly, hugging back. “It’s awesome to have a…big brother, or whatever.”
Spike stepped back and puffed out his chest. “It’ll be great to have a little sister!” He gazed off into space and his tone grew wistful. “Imagine…somepony else to help me put away books.”
Rainbow snickered. “Spike! She’s not gonna be your number one assistant.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Spike waved a claw dismissively at Rainbow. “So, Twilight, did’ja need help getting stuff put together in here?”
Twilight slowly came out of her reverie, lifting her head with her expression set hard. “Yes, Spike, if you don’t mind.” She turned to the dragon. “Those books we talked about. Bring them.”
“Sure thing,” he said, turning to the door. “Which ones?”
“All of them.”
Spike paused, but Twilight’s tone invited no argument. “…Alright, Twilight, if you say so.”
“I’ll help,” Scootaloo chimed, following Spike downstairs.
“And bring up some spare wood while you’re at it, please.” She turned to Rainbow and dropped her voice. “You have twelve Wonderbolts posters, right?”
“Thirteen. Why?”
Twilight looked back into the box and then around the sparse room, her frown unsettled. She said in a near whisper, “Think you could part with a few of them? This…” She looked back into the box. “There’s nothing here, Rainbow. This isn’t a bedroom, it’s a guest room.” She turned her pleading eyes on her fiancée. “This isn’t right.”
Rainbow scanned the room slowly. With a single nod, she rushed from the room and up the stairs. Flying up to the top loft, she looked at the assortment of Wonderbolts merchandise plastered to the walls. Carefully, she landed on the floor and cantered around the room, letting her gaze linger over each and every one; the simple symbol posters, Fleetfoot’s rookie photo, the show commemorations, Spitfire when she was promoted to captain; a fond and nostalgic smile growing wider as she looked.
“…Which ones?” she asked herself.
After a long pause, she stepped to the closest and carefully removed the tacks holding it to the wall of the tree. She laid the poster across the bed and spit the tacks into a pile next to it. She moved to another poster. Then another.
Rainbow looked around in a circle. The sole remaining poster on the wall hung above the bed. Spitfire’s photo stared back at her, its caption boldly proclaiming ‘Live Your Dream.’ She nodded in agreement at her former captain and scooped the posters up, flying back downstairs to her daughter’s bedroom.
Twilight stood in the far corner of the space, floating several planks of wood and tools up to the wall. A pile of adventure books sat on the floor at her hooves. Rainbow hovered around the room, putting up posters, while Twilight hammered away at the boards, hefting tools in a soft glow of energy. Scootaloo and Spike filed in and out, adding to the steady growing stack of books. With the last poster up, Rainbow turned to find Twilight loading the books neatly on a freshly built set of bookshelves.
Spike tromped in carrying a small armload of more tomes. “Hey, Twilight?” he asked in a bemused tone, “I found this sock at the bottom of the pile.” He held a claw out to show a long, faded, and striped black and blue sock. “Why do you even own a sock? I’ve never seen you wear them.”
“Well, ya see, Spike,” Rainbow said, smirking wickedly, “Twilight left that out for you. See, you’re a free house-elf now, an—”
Spike cut her off, grumbling, “If you finish that Harry Trotter joke, I will end you, Dash.”
Scootaloo snorted loudly and clapped her hooves over her muzzle.
Giggling, Twilight floated the Rainbow Dash wig on top of the bookshelf. She set the remaining books into place and emptied the clothes from the box into the dresser. Smiling warmly, she took the paperwork and writing supplies and loaded up the desk, reverently setting Scootaloo’s goggles on the top surface as the final touch.
She stepped back and slowly spun in place. Wonderbolts paraphernalia plastered the walls and the overstuffed bookshelves loaded with all of Scootaloo’s favorites made Twilight’s smile grow. It wasn’t much of a bedroom yet, but it was a start.
Twilight turned to the filly. “Well, Scootaloo, what do you think?”
Beaming brightly, she jumped up and hugged them both, pressing their cheeks to either side of her face. “It’s perfect. Thanks, mom.”
“You’re welcome, Scootaloo,” Twilight said, hugging the filly back and closing her eyes.
Leaning back and grinning with amusement, Scootaloo said, “Now when’s dinner? I’m starved.”
Cantering from the room, Twilight murmured under her breath to Rainbow, “You sure she’s not actually yours?”
Rainbow snickered and kissed Twilight on the cheek. “She is now. Both of ours.”
Twilight glanced back at the room once more before going downstairs. In her mind’s eye, she saw Wonderbolts posters joined by new ones with future flyers, and band posters with rockstars, and movie posters, hugging every inch of space. The desk was now cluttered to bursting with a mayhem papers, ready to collapse at a moment’s notice. The bookshelves groaned in total disarray, their contents stacked haphazardly between baubles and keepsakes. The dresser drawers overflowed with winter clothes, flight suits, and ‘fancy dresses,’ the floor littered with art supplies and toys, the bed a disheveled mess of rumpled sheets and blankets. A growing filly’s bedroom.
Twilight’s smile grew wider. “That she is,” she mumbled to herself. She shut the door and followed her family to the kitchen.