Chapter 17: Smile Your Troubles Away
"Fool," said Elderflower as he stared down at Viscount Eventide's form, "I wasn't finished with him."
"Yes you were," groused Perlin as he stepped around his latest victim, "You were going to stand there lecturing him for another twenty minutes then have me kill him, so I saved us some time."
"You idiot! That was important!"
Perlin raised his eyebrow. "What was it, pray tell...an extended lecture on how Equestria is slowly slipping into anarchy, how important it is that everypony follows their defined roles and accepts their destinies, etcetera etcetera...?" Perlin waved his hoof dismissively. "You persist that it was important for him to hear that, but the things you wanted to waste our time telling him would only be of use to a pony still alive. I could understand wanting to gloat a little, but wasting a pony's last moments with social commentary probably falls under cruel and unusual punishment."
"You need to mind your place, you insolent whelp," growled Baron Elderflower, "Somepony of your low birth couldn't comprehend the importance of such things."
Perlin sighed and shook his head slowly. "You're correct about comprehension anyway," he admitted, "You waste time and energy putting on a performance that no one will see, that is of absolutely no consequence to anyone. For all your complaints about the current state of the Noble Court, I notice you share their compunction for completely meaningless gestures."
"Silence!" snapped Elderflower. He snorted derisively and glared down at the Viscount, "His body needs to be disposed of."
"Ah well, I'll leave that to you," said Perlin, chuckling at the strangled sound of protest the Baron made, "You pay me to make corpses, not clean them up. If you want that, you'll have to pay an extra fee...or you could hire a maid..." Perlin's ears swiveled slightly, “…like the one who followed the unfortunate Viscount here."
Perlin's words caused Elderflower to look up, his eyes wide. "What?"
His question was answered by a loud "Eep!" echoing from further in the caverns as a young mare, only slightly older than Perlin himself, stumbled out from in between a few crystal protrusions where she'd been hiding. She stared at the two with quivering cyan eyes before turning to bolt back the way she had come from.
However, as she turned, her cyan and opal mane was tossed by a rush of air. Perlin settled down in front of her, cutting off her path of escape, his wings hiding themselves back beneath his coat. "Why hello," he said politely, as though he hadn't just recently cut down over forty ponies right before her eyes, "I remember you. You were that charming lady who greeted me at the late Viscount's manor, were you not?"
Trembling beneath Perlin's hawklike gaze, the mare could only nod wordlessly, her off-white coat looking decidedly pale as she backed away from him.
"She's one of the Viscount's staff then," said Elderflower, coming up behind the mare, his presence only serving to make her tremble even further.
"I find it odd that a domestic servant would be covertly following her employer and his cadre of guards into the depths of a cave system like this one," mused Perlin idly, "I very much doubt that your presence was accounted for by him."
"I-I..."
"Stop." The sharp words of Baron Elderflower rang with an almost natural authority. The mare reacted automatically, her mouth clamping shut with an audible click of teeth.
"Turn and face me," said Elderflower, "Do not mind the boy, he will not harm you unless I wish it."
The mare did as she was bade. She was still trembling as she looked up at Elderflower's critical gaze. "What is your name?"
"C-C-Coco Po...Coco Pommel," said the mare needing to practically force the words out of her mouth in her fear.
"I see. You were a member of Viscount Eventide's household staff?" asked Elderflower, trying to confirm what Perlin had just said.
Coco Pommel nodded slowly, too terrified to wrench her eyes away from the stallion who held her fate in his hooves.
"And why are you down here?" asked the Baron casually.
"I-I..." Coco averted her eyes, staring at the ground, pointedly avoiding any place where blood was spattered or where body parts could be seen.
Behind her, Perlin spoke. The smirk was practically audible in his voice. "Were you perhaps hoping to catch the late Viscount in the act of committing a nefarious deed?"
Coco squeaked, jumping at Perlin's inquiry. However, after a moment of trying, fruitlessly, to calm herself down, she nodded fearfully.
"Did you have some sort of grudge against your master?" asked Elderflower.
"I...I..." Coco's fear intensified as she curled up on herself.
The Baron sighed. "This is getting us nowhere. I'm wasting my time."
Perlin merely raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh, now you're wasting time?"
A slight twitch of an eyelid was the only thing that betrayed Elderflower's irritation. Rather than justify Perlin's taunt with a response, he instead focused further on the young mare before him. "Stand up," he said, his voice once again cracking with authority. The mare did so almost immediately, "Control yourself...Now, tell me your grievance with the Viscount."
"I...I was an assistant to a fashion designer in Manehattan," said Coco, "She was going to use my work in fashion shows around the city in order to build prestige."
"In other words, she was using you and taking the credit," observed Perlin wryly.
Coco gave him a nervous nod. "I-I don't know what she did. I guess she crossed the Viscount in some way and he used his business connections to smear her reputation. Since I worked for her..."
"Your reputation was smeared as well," finished Elderflower, seeing the connections, "And then the Viscount stepped in and 'charitably' offered you a place working under him."
Coco nodded. "At first, I thought he wanted me to design for him...but he simply made me into one of his maids and put me to work...cleaning up his house..." Tears gathered in Coco's eyes. "I wanted to leave...but he...all of a sudden, I had this debt and I had to keep working for him."
Elderflower closed his eyes and sighed, sadly shaking his head. That is so like the fool. He must have been planning on keeping her in reserve until he could find the proper opportunity to put her talents to use. I'm willing to bet that he would have offered her as an asset to that Rarity mare.
Opening his eyes, Elderflower looked Coco Pommel over very closely. He judged her to be only slightly younger than himself, though still older than Perlin. "So you planned on witnessing his crimes...what then?"
"I...I...I would have told him to let me go or I would go to the Guard with what I'd seen," said Coco.
Both Perlin and Elderflower smacked their faces with their hooves. "Your naiveté is truly awe-inspiring," said Elderflower, "Did it occur to you in the slightest that the Viscount would have simply disposed of you just as he was planning on disposing of me today?"
Coco's pupils contracted and she shrunk away, trembling again.
"So now, the question is what to do?" mused the Baron, still eyeing Coco critically.
"I'm not in the habit of eliminating noncombatants," said Perlin, "But he who pays the bills decides the kills."
Elderflower considered Perlin's words as Coco slumped down between them again, her body going completely limp with fear.
After a moment, he shook his head. "No." He turned to Coco and smiled at her for the first time. It wasn't a friendly smile, rather, a proud one, the smile of a pony congratulating himself for his own cleverness. "As it happens, I can find use for a seamstress such as yourself. You will come and work under me." Upon seeing her hopeful expression fall, the stallion chuckled. "Come now, I won't so foolishly squander your gifts as the unfortunate Viscount did. I intend to provide you with the proper work to suit your skills. Of course, you have every right to decline, but..." Elderflower gestured to Perlin, "Then we will have to take measures to ensure your silence on this matter. I'm sure you understand. I apologize for being so pushy, but I'm afraid that I will have to ask for your answer immediately."
With a choked sob, Coco lowered her head and nodded.
"Excellent," said the Baron, "I knew you had good judgement. Come along then." Not even waiting for a response, Elderflower stepped past Coco, walking past Perlin, and making his way back along the route that led to the surface.
"And the bodies?" asked Perlin.
"Leave them," replied Elderflower, "I will deal with them later."
Perlin and Coco fell in step behind the Baron. Perlin stole a sidelong glance at the slightly older mare, while Coco studiously averted her eyes, afraid to meet the dangerous colt’s gaze. However, Perlin only smiled and shrugged. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m rather glad that I didn’t have to kill you.”
Not exactly feeling reassured by the statement, Coco said nothing and continued on, trying her hardest not to flinch away from the colt who walked by her side.
Pinkie Pie yawned widely and crawled out from under her covers. Her bedroom was dark, courtesy of the curtain that somepony had pulled across the window. Smacking her lips, Pinkie surveyed her miniature domain before trotting to the window and pulling the curtain open. Her eyes widened when she saw the position of the sun in the sky. She’d meant to sleep for an hour, maybe two at the most. But it was clearly longer than that. She’d slept through the remainder of the morning and well into the afternoon.
“Oh no! What about the fundraiser?”
The door slammed open and Pinkie hurtled down the stairs in a blur, her hooves screeching to a stop at the door to the main room. Opening it, she glanced out to see the current state of affairs.
Many of the tables had been almost completely cleared. The piles of treats that had once covered them had been reduced to a few small mounds. Mr. and Mrs. Cake moved about the room, working to consolidate the remaining goods into smaller piles and clearing off the remaining tables for cleaning. There were still customers wandering about, but their numbers had dwindled considerably. Most surprisingly of all, Mayweather was still running the register, happily accepting the bits everypony passed her way.
Mrs. Cake was first to notice the awestruck mare standing in the doorway. “Ah! You’re awake. Are you feeling better now?” she asked as she came up.
“Yeah,” said Pinkie, still staring, somewhat slack-jawed at the scene before her, “Is everything…?”
“Everything’s fine,” said Mrs. Cake with an indulgent smile, “Mayweather did a fine job in your place. We’re glad that you managed to get some rest.” She nuzzled Pinkie fondly. “You really do work yourself too hard sometimes.”
“I’ve never seen so many bits in all my life,” said Mayweather, taking advantage in a lull between transactions to briefly attend Pinkie as well, “You weren’t kidding when you said ponies were willing to go the extra mile for a good cause.”
It had been a busy day indeed. Mayweather had worked various jobs in her life before deciding to work under Blenheim in Appleloosa. She’d done her fair share of cashiering in the past. However, never before had she experienced such a constant stream of customers as those who had practically stampeded into Sugarcube Corner that day. She entertained the amused notion that she might well have served very nearly everypony in town. Even Pinkie’s closest friends had paid a visit. Some, like Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash, were more than a little surprised and suspicious to see her there. Rarity had been polite and accommodating, which Mayweather appreciated. Fluttershy had looked distinctly pleased to see Mayweather helping out, her warm smile giving the stripe-maned mare a much needed boost to her confidence. Applejack had been by as well, her approval also serving to improve Mayweathter's feelings. Aside from them, the other customers had all been patient, willing to wait their turn and never griping about the sometimes jaw-dropping prices they were paying for their treats.
"Oh wow! I'm so glad!" squealed Pinkie before her expression fell again, "I'm sorry I wasn't much help."
Mayweather flicked her eyes around the room. "Didn't you make all of this? It sounds to me like you did the lion's share already."
Pinkie looked as though she wanted to protest. But as she looked around and saw how many of the treats she'd made had been sold, her expression brightened considerably. "You're right! I did."
"Come on dear," said Mrs. Cake, "Why don't you come to the register and ring out the last few customers."
"Okey dokie loki!" cheered Pinkie before bouncing over to take Mayweather's place, her usual energy restored.
Mayweather watched the pink mare go, a wistful smile on her face. "She really is amazing."
"That she is," agreed Cup Cake with a fond smile, "That she is..."
Following the suggestions of his mother and a few of his friends, Dawn decided to take Scootaloo out to the quarry for a full day of training. Being at the teahouse would be a bad idea, as several ponies would have probably brought Pinkie's treats with them, which Scootaloo would have easily recognized. As it was, Dawn had plans of his own, something to help rectify the deficiencies in Scootaloo's training so far, and help her learn to more fully control her magic.
"You want me to juggle rocks?" asked Scootaloo dubiously as she eyed the stone balanced on Dawn's hoof.
"Not juggle," said Dawn. He tossed the rock up into the air and extended his wing under it. Barely moving the appendage, the colt conjured a an upward vortex of air that caught the stone and held it suspended over his wing, spinning in place. "The idea is to hold the rock there. If you break it or throw it away, then you need to try again."
"But why?" asked Scootaloo.
Dawn bobbed his wing, intensifying the upward surge of air and launching the rock into an arc that dropped it right back onto his hoof. "First, it helps your direct control over your magic. If you move your wing too much, you'll put too much magic into the act and too much air. Second, it will help you control how much force you exert. Holding the rock in place without breaking it or launching it sky-high will help you learn to get a feel for how much force you're exerting. Maintaining the act will aid your focus and improve your control."
"Okay..." said Scootaloo, a little half-heartedly. She trusted Dawn and would have been happy spending the day just going through their forms with him. But this new exercise felt a little silly too her. However, she could already understand where Dawn was going with this. Though he'd been tactful enough not to bring it up, Scootaloo could tell that he'd been thinking about what had happened with Quicksilver and was trying to help Scootaloo learn how to control her magic so that they never had to go through that again.
Reluctantly, she took the rock from Dawn's hooves. Taking a breath to calm herself, she tossed it up so that it would come down on her wing when she extended it. Already, her wind-sense was tracking the stone's parabola as it reached the peak of its arc and started to come down. Her wing extended and dipped down to gather the necessary air. Scootaloo's mind desperately tried to override her reflexes and perform the full motion of sweeping her wing upwards. In spite of her efforts to rein her power in, she still ended up using too much. The descending stone shot upwards like a rocket. Tilting her head up, Scootaloo stared at it as it soared upward before finally descending somewhere in the distance.
"Horsefeathers..." she groaned.
Dawn smiled slightly, trying his hardest to keep his amusement in check. Looking around, he noticed that the immediate area was rather devoid of stones of the right size. It was, after all, the section where Scootaloo practiced her forms and techniques. The winds she had launched day after day had swept all the small debris away and ground the rest into dust. The one stone he had found was an extreme rarity. "We'll need some more to work with," he noted.
Dawn sighted the ridge that marked the boundary between his practice zone and Scootaloo's, the barrier enabling him to practice with lightning without fear of accidentally zapping his student. Several larger boulders clustered at its base, having been far enough away from Scootaloo's practice to not have been broken up yet. Picking out one that lay near the base, but was clearly not part of the base of the ridge itself (and thus, not holding the entire thing up), Dawn smiled.
"Wait here," he said, gesturing to Scootaloo that she should stay put. The jet-black colt flew over to the bolder and sized it up a bit more carefully.
Dawn extended one wing out in front of his head and then swept it in a backwards arc, putting the full strength of his body behind the motion. The arc was much tighter than usual. As a result, a narrow, but incredibly powerful tornado swept outwards, rushing over the boulder and ripping it from the ground. The tornado hefted the rock into the sky as Dawn slipped in at its base, directly underneath the bolder now. Orienting his body vertically, Dawn drew in the winds that formed the tornado's funnel and lashed upwards with both his wings in the Forward Wing Strike, driving a column of air straight up through the center of what remained of his cyclone. The column slammed into the suspended bolder, shattering it into pieces.
Jumping off from the ground, Dawn launched himself directly into the cloud of debris. He began to spin his body, drawing the air around him back towards himself, flying back in the direction of Scootaloo as he did so. The newly formed whirlwind drew the cloud of smaller stones back towards him, pulling them in his wake. If Dawn stopped his movement, the stones would strike his body, possibly severely injure him. However, the colt didn't give the possible risk a thought, instead maintaining his focus on pulling them along. He went into a dive at the ground in front of Scootaloo, just far enough away that she wouldn't be at risk of getting hit by an errant stone. At the last second, he pulled away, detaching himself from the wind he'd created, which dissipated against the ground, depositing the stones that Dawn had pulled along behind him in a loose pile.
"That should give you enough to work with," said Dawn, looking rather pleased with himself.
Scootaloo snorted. "Show off," she muttered, though she couldn't keep a smirk of her own from her face. However jealous she might be about how far ahead of her Dawn was, she still loved seeing the things he could do, not in the least because she knew she would be able to do it someday as well...if she kept practicing.
However, something occurred to her. "Is this something your Master taught you?"
Dawn shook his head. "No. We never really got that far in our training. He passed away shortly after teaching me the principles behind the wind blade. We hadn't even begun working on anything like this yet."
"So did you come up with this for yourself?" asked Scootaloo.
Again, Dawn shook his head. "This wasn't something I used on myself. I only came up with it recently when I was thinking about ways to help you control your magic."
"So how did you learn to control your power?"
Dawn sighed, "I practiced on many things, the leaves and plants of the Everfree. Once I was confident enough that I could face them without putting myself at risk, I 'practiced' on the monsters that lived out there as well. I tried to repel them without doing actual physical harm. If I succeeded, then I'd staved off another attack. If I didn't...well..." he averted his eyes slightly, "...that usually meant one less monster I'd have to deal with..."
Scootaloo's eyes widened as the meaning behind his words sank in. "Oh..."
Dawn turned to look back at her. "Please don't tell mom," he pleaded, "I don't think she'd be happy to learn about that."
"Uh...sure..." said Scootaloo, "I mean, practice or not, you were just defending yourself right? It's not that big a deal."
"For the most part," agreed Dawn, looking down again, "But there were times when I sought out conflicts that I could have avoided, or gone out of the way to get myself noticed by certain predators. It wasn't all self-defense."
Scootaloo's ears fell flat against her skull. "Oh..." she said again, "Well...you hadn't been living with Fluttershy yet. I guess it's not a huge deal. After all, the Everfree has plenty of monsters. It's not like it's about to run out anytime soon..."
"I suppose..." admitted Dawn.
Stepping forward, Scootaloo draped her wing over Dawn's back. "Look," she said, "For what it's worth, I don't think any differently about you." She nuzzled gently against his cheek. "You were a different pony back then. You were just doing what you thought you had to."
"I suppose," admitted Dawn, "After my Master died, I didn't have any reason to continue trying to associate ponies. I retreated into the forest and simply trained. It was the last thing my Master had ever asked of me, to keep bettering myself. So that's what I did."
"See," said Scootaloo, grinning at her coltfriend, "Don't worry about it. It's not like you're gonna do that anymore or that probably would have been what you asked me to do instead of juggling rocks."
Dawn chuckled and nuzzled Scootaloo back. "I don't think I could do that with you. I don't want to ever put you at risk like that."
"Hey," said Scootaloo, "Rainbow Dash is always telling me that you need to take risks in order to get results. That doesn't mean going out and doing something off-the-wall stupid. But it does mean being willing to do something dangerous if you really feel that's what you need to do to get better."
Dawn raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm beginning to think you want me to take you in the forest and force you to fight monsters."
That earned a snort from the orange filly as she finally pulled away. "No thanks. I'm fine with rocks."
Dawn chuckled. "Then it's back to playing with rocks for you."
"Hey!"
"Wowie zowie!" squealed Pinkie Pie, "Look at all the bits we made."
Mayweather stared in astonishment at the carefully organized and sorted bags of money. Having carried out most of the transactions, she was vaguely aware of the number of bits that had passed through her hooves. The register had needed to be emptied several times over throughout the day. But now, in the back room where the Cakes kept their profits, she got a much more definitive understanding of just how much money she had handled today. "Do we have enough?"
Pinkie nodded. "Yeah, we have way more than enough to fix Scootaloo's house."
Mr. and Mrs. Cake shared a confused look. "Then why did you make so much if you didn't need so much money?" asked Cup.
"'Cause this isn't just for Scootaloo's house," said Pinkie, "The rest we're gonna use to help cover Quicksilver's medical bills."
Mayweather froze, staring at the pink pony, flummoxed. "You'd actually do that for him?" she asked, "After what happened...?"
"Well sure," said Pinkie cheerfully, "Quicksilver did a bad thing, but he's already in traction...and arrested...and arrested in traction..." She paused to think about what she'd just said. "Anyway! He shouldn't have to come out of the hospital and find out he owes them a lot of money on top of that."
"And..." she added, whirling on Mayweather, who flinched back away from her, "Scootaloo feels real guilty about what she did. So I figured it would help her feel better about what happened if some of the money from the fundraiser went towards helping your friend too."
"Oh..." Mayweather couldn't say much else, still somewhat stupefied by Pinkie's generous offer. She'd never considered that anypony would be willing to help Quicksilver after what he'd done.
"Besides," added Pinkie, grinning widely, "The best way to help somepony like Quicksilver become a better pony is to show them what good ponies do. We help out, even if the pony we're helping is a big meany, because that's the right thing to do."
"I..." Mayweather was still at a loss for words, her gaping expression making Pinkie giggle.
"That's the silly thing about you ponies and your Order thingie," said Pinkie, "Who cares if demons are real or not. The way I think about it, if demons are real, then they're trying to make you do bad things, right?"
Unable to fault Pinkie's logic, Mayweather nodded slowly.
"So if demons are trying to make you do bad things, then the only thing you need to do is just keep on doing good things, like helping other ponies." Pinkie squealed and hopped in place. "Who cares if Dawn is secretly some meany-pants demon secretly trying to make everypony evil. All I have to do is keep doing what I do best and make ponies laugh and have fun."
Mayweather wanted to argue...but found that she couldn't. For all that she wanted to fault Pinkie's arguments, she realized that she wasn't able to. If a demon's purpose was to make ponies into something other than themselves, then if a pony stayed true to herself, the demon wouldn't succeed. It was simple, childish logic, but logic all the same.
Taking that line of thinking, Mayweather thought back to the events of the past few days, thinking about what had happened. None of the townsponies had been acting strangely or suspiciously. Granted, Mayweather had barely been in Ponyville for a week or so, but she hadn't gotten the feeling that anything was wrong with the ponies there...until after she'd met Dawn. Even then, there was nothing different about how the ponies of Ponyville were behaving. What had changed...was how we acted, she realized. She, Blenheim, Garnet, Quicksilver, even Rivercrest, they had been the ones to change how they had been acting, they had been the ones who had started behaving strangely and dangerously. Quicksilver had been the one to force his way into a filly's home with the intent of physically assaulting her. Dawn had done nothing.
"I..." A choked sob escaped Mayweather. "I've been such a fool!" She slumped down to the floor, tears streaming out of her eyes.
A pair of arms encircled her and Pinkie Pie pulled Mayweather into a tight hug, nuzzling into her mane. "It's okay," she said, "You made a mistake. Ponies do that."
Suddenly Pinkie went rigid, looking up and grinning. "Hey! I know what to do!" She released Mayweather and sped out the door. She came rushing in with something on her hoof. "I saved some treats for you," she said cheerily, holding out a wrapped brownie to Mayweather.
Sniffling, Mayweather took the brownie in her hooves and examined it before turning to look at Pinkie.
"Go ahead," she prompted. Behind Pinkie, Mr. and Mrs. Cake both nodded in encouragement.
Mayweather unwrapped the brownie and bit down on one corner of it. As she pulled away and chewed, flavor exploded across her tastebuds. The bittersweet chocolate nearly drowned out everything, its aroma seeping up into her nose. It was rich, decadent, easily one of the richest brownies Mayweather had ever tried in her life. The intensity of the flavor burned itself into her memory, making it into something she could never forget, even if she tried. Swallowing, she only paused for a second before rapidly consuming the remaining brownie, sighing contentedly as the last of it slid down her throat. "That was amazing," she gasped.
"See!" said Pinkie, "Now you feel better!"
Mayweather smiled and realized that she did indeed feel better. The brownie's flavor and texture had pushed all the dark thoughts out of her mind. But, more importantly, the simple act of kindness and generosity on Pinkie's part had helped clear the dark clouds out of Mayweather's thoughts and bring a smile to her face. "Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome!" replied Pinkie.
The moment was broken by a sharp knocking on the back door of the building. Cup Cake went over and opened the door, smiling as she saw who was waiting. "Hello you two," she said, "Are you here about the fundraiser?"
"That's right," said Apple Bloom, trotting in, "We're here to see how much ya took in so we can buy the materials."
"So how'd you guys do?" asked Spike, just as his eyes took in the sight of all the accumulated bits. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, "That's a lot of money! Imagine how many gems I could get for that."
Bloom's tail snapped back and whipped lightly across Spike's face. "Don't get greedy, sugarcube," she chided, giving Spike a mischievous grin, "This money's fer Scoot's house."
"I know, I know," groused Spike, rubbing the back of his head, his irritation earning a giggle from Bloom. He turned and grinned at Pinkie. "Great job."
"Aw, I just baked everything," said Pinkie before gesturing to Mayweather, "She's the one who did all the sales."
Spike and Apple Bloom turned their attention to Mayweather, who shifted awkwardly under their gazes.
"Thank ya," said Bloom, not seeming to bear Mayweather any ill-will, "Ah'm sure Scootaloo'll appreciate all that ya've done when she sees her house all fixed up."
"Actually, this seems like way more than we need," said Spike, spitting out a burst of green fire. The act made Mayweather jump back. However, everypony else simply watched as the fire congealed into a book that flopped open onto the table. "Now we just have to figure out where to go."
"Ooh! I know," said Pinkie, hopping over and pointing to a name in the book, "Go to Hardy Hooves Hardware House! He's got everything and then some. Tell him Pinkie Pie sent you and he'll give you a discount!"
"He will?" asked Spike, giving Pinkie a questioning look.
"Yeah," replied Pinkie, "He said he'd always be happy to give me a discount after I set up his filly's cutecenera and made it super-special-awesome."
Mayweather was surprised. It was a surprisingly generous favor for something as simple as a cutecenera.
"Okay then," said Spike, "I guess that's settled. Twilight and I will go and get what we need tomorrow and we can start working on the house. Hopefully we'll have it finished before the week is out."
"Then you'll be finished in time for the Harvest Festival," said Pinkie, "That'll be great!"
It was, in fact, the last week before the harvest season was considered complete. The Harvest Festival was set to begin next Saturday.
Pinkie quickly set aside the bits that Spike and Apple Bloom needed for the project. Mayweather watched in awe as Spike breathed his flame over the bags, the fire seeming to incinerate them. The dragon sucked in his breath, drawing his flames back into himself. "Thanks for everything, Pinkie," said Spike as he and Apple Bloom hurried back out the door on their next errand.
Pinkie giggled as she watched them go. "Okie dokie," she said, gathering up the remaining bits, "Now all that's left is to get these to the hospital so we can pay them for taking care of Quicksilver."
Mayweather sniffed again. "Thank you so much...for everything."
Pinkie quickly hugged her again. "Aww, it's okay. It's worth it to see you smile again. You look really good when you smile."
To her surprise, Mayweather felt her cheeks heating up as she listened to Pinkie's praise. "Th-thanks."
"Oh, it's nothing," said Pinkie as she loaded the bits into her saddlebags, somehow seeming to never fill them no matter how many she put in, "Now let's go to the hospital!"
With the perky pinky pony leading the way, the two of them headed out.
"Ugh! This is hard," groused Scootaloo as she watched another rock rocket up out of sight. She watched for a moment, keeping her awareness stretched out with her wind-sense as well, just to make sure that it wasn't going to come back down on her head.
"This may be my fault," admitted Dawn, "This is a training method I only recently came up with. It may be that we have to try something else first."
"Well, I'm gonna keep at it," said Scootaloo as she selected another rock from the dwindling pile. She'd spent most of the day practicing the exercise, alternating between trying with one wing or the other. At Dawn's insistence, she'd taken breaks at regular intervals, sometimes to spend some more time practicing her forms, other times simply to rest and relax so that her frustration didn't hamper her efforts.
For his part, Dawn didn't go his own way as he usually did during their training. Instead, he'd stayed and watched over her. He had little in the way of advice to offer, stating that his advice was more likely to confuse her than help her.
As such, most of Scootaloo's day had been spent tossing rocks over her shoulder and trying to catch them with an updraft from her wing. Most of the time, she used too much power and sent the rock sailing away. Dawn did his best to track down the ones she launched in order to keep them from running out, but his efforts didn't always meet with success. Sometimes, the force of the blow shattered the stone into tiny pieces. On other occasions, Scootaloo didn't use nearly enough power and the resulting puff of air did little, if anything, to slow the rock down, causing it to land on her wing. Because the rocks were little more than pebbles and Scootlaoo wasn't tossing them very high to begin with, they didn't really do any damage, though they did sting when they hit the muscle and bone. They also roughed up her feathers, which was making it a little more difficult to feel the air as it ran over them.
However, Scootaloo pressed doggedly onward, tossing rock after rock over her shoulder. It was difficult work, as her reflexes urged her to apply all her strength, but if she tried too hard to rein them in, she applied too little strength.
"I don't get it," she said after another failed try, "Why is this so hard? I'm just doing the same thing I'm doing when I'm flying." In a sense, it was true. After all, controlling her flight, including her speed and acceleration was, in essence the same skill that she was trying to apply to the rock.
"That is mostly because the application towards flying is inwards, while what you are trying to do with the rock is outwards," replied Dawn.
"Huh?"
"When you're flying, you have a much easier time feeling how much power you need to use because the power you use is affecting your own body. You can feel your speed, your acceleration, how much of your strength you are using and how that is translating to your own flight.
"However, the rock is not a part of your body. It is something outside of you. You cannot feel what the rock feels every time you use your power on it. Because you can't feel what the rock feels, you must extend your senses and feel how your power itself engages with its target. That is the key to control."
"Okay..." said Scootaloo. As she thought it over, something occurred to her. Maybe the problem is that I'm overthinking it, she thought. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and cleared her thoughts. When she'd first started, she'd only been really able to void her mind while practicing her forms. Now, after continual practice, she found that she was easily able to enter into that thoughtless state at any time, even to meditate in much the same way that Dawn did...though she still preferred to use her forms.
Her mind clear of unnecessary thoughts, Scootaloo allowed her senses to fully spread out into the air around her, feeling it caress her wings and move through her feathers. She could feel it wrapping around her own body, feel it flowing around the rock balanced on her hoof. Bobbing her hoof, she lightly tossed the rock up, not in its usual over the shoulder arc, but a short bounce that landed it right back on her hoof. She bounced it again, learning to feel the weight and heft of the rock through the air itself, rather than just through direct contact. Finally, she tossed it higher, allowing it to arc over her shoulder and down towards her wing.
Not thinking about it, Scootaloo lifted her wing, gathering the air around her and directing it upwards. Rather than responding with pure reflex with all of her power, instead, her muscles and magic responded to the feeling of the rock itself as it moved through the air. Scootaloo's wing bobbed gently and the stone hit it...and stopped. It wasn't sent rocketing up into the sky, nor did it simply slow slightly before resuming its plummet. The stone's motion was completely arrested by the upward-moving column of air.
A sense of jubilation flooded the filly's heart at the realization of what she had done. I did it! However, the moment of self-congratulation broke her focus and she forgot to try and maintain the upward flow of air. The stone fell again and hit her wing, not hard enough the damage it, but hard enough to sting.
"Ow!" Scootaloo grit her teeth and gently rubbed the leading edge of her wing with her forehoof, wincing as it pressed against the small bruise that had formed.
"I'd scold you," said Dawn, stifling a chuckle, "But I think you already know what went wrong."
"Yeah," groused Scootaloo, giving Dawn a sardonic glare.
"But still," said Dawn, "For a brief moment, you succeeded. It's a step in the right direction. I suppose this exercise wasn't such a bad idea after all."
"I guess," said Scootaloo, still rubbing her wing, "But it's made a mess of my wings."
Dawn took a second to mark the sun's position in the sky. "We should probably call an end to it anyway. We'll be expected back soon."
Scootaloo nodded and looked over her shoulder to get a better look at her wings. They were a mess, several of her feathers lying askew or looking particularly ragged. "Ugh, I'm gonna have to preen these when I get back to the library." She didn't look forward to that. While her father had taught her the importance of keeping her feathers in good condition, Scootaloo didn't enjoy preening them all that much, not liking all the twisting and turning she had to do to reach her feathers.
"Why don't I preen them," offered Dawn softly.
Scootaloo's eyes went wide and she turned to gape at Dawn. "Are you sure?"
"I used to take care of my own wings when I lived in the Everfree," said Dawn, "Using the Gale King requires that one keep their wings in the best condition possible." Now that he lived with Fluttershy, she had taken over his preening, an act that Dawn returned, the two of them bonding through the shared contact.
Scootaloo thought about it, shivering slightly at the idea. While she wasn't fond of having to preen her own feathers, she was even more leery of letting another pony deal with them. When she'd been younger, her father had preened her wings for her. However, he'd been as rough as he possibly could, deliberately making the process uncomfortable for her in order to encourage her to learn to do it herself. Melon Cream had tried occasionally to preen Scootaloo's wings for her. However, as an earth pony with almost no experience in the process, she wasn't very good at it yet, making the process uncomfortable for Scootalo for entirely different, albeit unintentional reasons.
"I-I guess..." said Scootaloo nervously. She couldn't imagine that somepony with as rough an upbringing as Dawn had had would be all that gentle with her wings.
"Let's go somewhere where we can be more comfortable," suggested Dawn, looking across the dirt-swept expanse of the quarry.
The two of them took off and winged their way in the direction of Ponyville, looking for any ideal places they could put down. Scootaloo quickly spotted an empty cloud and eagerly gestured to it. The cloud in question was large enough to hold both of them comfortably. The two of them dipped in and landed on the soft, puffy surface of the cloud. Scootaloo let out a pleased sigh as she pressed herself into its surface, the cloud having been warmed by the sun over the course of the day to a nearly perfect temperature.
"This feels great," she cooed.
Chuckling, Dawn settled in on her right and slightly behind, where he could reach her wing easily. "Go ahead and extend your right wing," he said.
Her nervousness returning, Scootaloo nodded and extended the wing. Dawn carefully examined the appendage, noting the condition of different feathers before slowly moving in. He started with the primaries, starting at the end of the wing and slowly working his way in. His lips and teeth moved across the feathers with practiced ease, gently realigning them and teasing them back into shape, his movements slow and careful.
At first, Scootaloo felt the slight tugging and pulling sensation on her feathers to be somewhat disconcerting. However, as Dawn switched to the secondaries, working his way from the base of the wing out to the end, she began to enjoy the feeling. Dawn was gentle and competent, his ministrations easing away the uncomfortable feeling of misaligned and ragged feathers and sending pleasing, relaxing jolts of sensation down her wing. Scootaloo felt her muscles relaxing, the wing sagging under its own weight as Dawn switched to the coverts, once again working his way back towards the base.
By the time he'd finished with her right wing, Scootaloo had settled into a sort of relaxed stupor, barely conscious enough to notice when Dawn switched sides and asked for her other wing. Scootaloo did as requested and submitted her left wing for the same treatment. When Dawn finished, several minutes later, Scootaloo had been nearly lulled to sleep by the treatment.
She folded her wings back away and snuggled contentedly into the cloud, basking in the sense of bliss the preening had imparted to her. She felt even better when she felt Dawn rest his weight up against her side before extending a wing to drape over her back, his head lowering so that they rested cheek to cheek.
"Thanks," she whispered.
Dawn smiled and turned his head to nuzzle her. "You're welcome," he said. He turned his gaze to the sun. "We'll have to go back soon."
"But not yet," said Scootaloo, "So let's just stay like this for a while longer."
"Of course," said Dawn, using his wing to hold her tighter, "As long as you want."