The park was quieter now than it had been when they arrived, Rainbow realised. Maybe it was the sun that was setting low in the sky (and was it just her or had sunset suddenly gotten so much earlier in the day?) or the chiming of the town clock, but something had driven the ponies who had been laughing and playing away. The same thing was probably what had told them it was time to leave, the unspoken agreement that passed between Rainbow and Scootaloo as they trudged towards the muddy hoofpath into town.
“Thanks,” Scootaloo said, simply.
“No problem, squirt,” Rainbow replied. “I needed the chance to get up in the air and de-stress before tonight.” The filly giggled as she walked beside her, and Rainbow shot her a disapproving look.
“Sorry,” she said, quietly, even though she wasn’t. “I just have a hard time imagining that you of all ponies would be stressed about something like this.”
Rainbow shrugged, sighing.
“Maybe I’m allowed to be nervous,” she said. “I’ve got to make a good impression on your new folks, and I’m not thoroughly convinced they’re the kind of ponies my normal first impression of awesomeness would work on.” Scootaloo giggled again, and Rainbow grinned at her. “Besides, I’m not used to meeting ponies for proper, fancy dinners.”
“Surely you’ve been invited for things like this with the Princess, though?” Scootaloo asked. “I mean, you’ve saved the entire freaking world enough times that they would be crazy not to want to hang out with you!”
“Oh?” Rainbow questioned, smirking. “Am only cool enough to hang out with because I save the world, huh?”
“N-no!” Scootaloo replied, tripping over her words, and Rainbow burst out cackling at the look of horror on her face, which quickly turned to a scowl. “Rainbow Dash, that isn’t funny.”
“You sound just like Twilight when you sat that, Squirt,” Rainbow said, rubbing the filly’s mane affectionately. Scootaloo squirmed beneath her hoof, making a face. “That’s a compliment!” Rainbow added. “Twilight’s cool.”
“Yeah, but she’s also a librarian, which isn’t,” Scootaloo argued, and Rainbow snorted. The little filly might have had a point, although Scootaloo hadn’t seen Twilight’s ruthless efficiency at shelving. There was something almost beautiful in the way she lost herself amid the floating streams of books, taking each to their new allotted location, her eyes closed as the room filled with her magic.
Almost beautiful. Not actually beautiful, of course, because that was lame, but it was the kind of awesome that wrapped her up and refused to let her tear her eyes away. It wasn’t really beautiful, but the word would do—so long as she didn’t say it out loud.
Eventually the two pegasi reached the gates of the park, and Rainbow stood frozen by indecision at the crossroads. Scootaloo stood just behind her, uncertainly standing by her back legs.
“Uh, Rainbow? Why’d you stop?” Scootaloo asked. Rainbow turned her neck back to look at her sister and grimaced.
“Which way are we going?”
Scootaloo snorted and took the lead, Rainbow following close behind as the filly took them through the backstreets of Ponyville, working her way stealthily through the town—almost as if she were trying to avoid being seen. It wasn’t until they entered a back alley (the very same one, Rainbow remembered, where she had pinned Pinkie Pie to the ground and unmasked her during the Mare Do Well incident) that Rainbow began to grow suspicious. She stopped in her tracks; it seemed like it took a moment for Scootaloo to register the lack of her hoofsteps as she kept walking boldy down the alleyway, but soon enough she turned around.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, trotting gently back towards Rainbow and tilting her head to one side. “Why’ve you stopped?”
“I’m just a little worried, is all,” Rainbow said, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you know where we’re going?”
“Of course I know,” Scootaloo replied. “I just, uhm… I just wanted to avoid the main streets because my parents wanted to send…” Scootaloo’s voice dropped to an inaudible mutter. Rainbow frowned.
“What was that, squirt?” She asked. Scootaloo sighed in frustration and, if the colour of her cheeks were anything to go by, embarrassment.
“They wanted to send a carriage to collect us from the park and drive us back,” Scootaloo said, “and I didn’t want the driver to spot us so I thought it would be nice to take the route through the alleyways.”
“Why’d you not want to take the carriage?” Rainbow replied, pushing the more pressing question of how rich anypony would have to be to send a carriage to collect their daughter from a park barely ten minutes walk away. “I mean, I get that it’s all weird and fancy, but don’t you think your parents’ll get worried?”
“I’m sure they can live with it,” Scootaloo replied. “Besides, I’m with you. It’s not like I’m in any danger.” Rainbow smiled as Scootaloo confidently walked onwards, and made sure to follow behind as closely as she could. She didn’t want anypony seeing Scootaloo seemingly alone in the alleyways, not now that the sun was setting and it was getting so dark in the spaces between the houses.
Eventually, they emerged from the maze of back streets and came out on a small road that lead a little way out of town. Rainbow remembered that it was on this road that Filthy Rich and his daughter lived, and she was suddenly more worried for Scootaloo’s wellbeing than she had been since she heard the filly had gotten adopted. She walked a little closer to her.
As they walked up the road, Rainbow saw three grand, large mansions appear on the horizon at the top of the small ridge overlooking the town, barely high enough to call itself a hill but certainly enough to give the impression of looking down on the rest of the town. Rainbow was unsurprised that this, of all places, was where Ponyville’s elite chose to live.
They turned towards the house on the far right, walking down a long, gravel driveway that made the house seem, somehow, larger. It took all of Rainbow’s strength and willpower not to pick Scootaloo up in her hooves and fly the whole way down the drive, landing in the space at the end with a roll and a bow to the doorstallion, whose jaw would drop and hooves would stomp on the ground.
… sometimes, Rainbow realised, she got just a little bit carried away with her daydreams.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat, “fancy place you’ve got here.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo replied sadly. “It feels kinda empty inside. Like there’s nothing really there, you know? It’s got so much space and so many rooms, but all of them are empty or only really have a hooffull of ponies in them at once. It seems like a bit of a waste of it all, like this is a house built for dozens and dozens of ponies yet it’s just the three of us in there.”
Rainbow nodded. “I think I get it. It’s like if you ever get to go into the town hall while nopony’s in there—the space just seems too large and you start wishing somepony will show up to fill it.”
“Exactly!” Scootaloo exclaimed, as they began to step into the large, open section of the drive, where a lone carriage stood parked. The driver trotted over to them.
“Miss Scootaloo!” he said, “Why weren’t you at the park like you said you’d be?”
“I’m sorry,” Rainbow said, cutting Scootaloo off before she got herself in trouble. “I suggested we walked back, and completely forgot about the carriage ride. It’s my fault.”
The driver turned to her with beady, squinting eyes.
“Alright,” he said, slowly and distrustfully, “but you’d better be careful not to do it again. I don’t like having to go out and wait in the cold for that long, and then not even get paid for it because my client doesn’t show up.”
Rainbow didn’t quite know what to say—the stallion’s tone was bitter and a little angrier than she’d anticipated. She really hadn’t thought anypony could be quite so upset about this.
“We’re really very sorry, sir,” Scootaloo said, her eyes wide and sorrowful and not for the first time Rainbow wished she was still young so she could pull that trick off; the driver’s expression calmed significantly, though he was clearly still annoyed. “I’ll make sure we don’t forget next time. You can count on me!” Her little smile was adorable and enough to make anypony trust her—Rainbow was more than a little surprised that her younger sister was quite so good at getting what she wanted the ponies around her. It was something she expected more from Sweetie Belle than Scootaloo. Perhaps the Crusaders had been taking lessons.
The stallion huffed and shook his hoof at them, shooing them away with a mutter and a shake of his head. All in all, Rainbow felt that had gone rather well.
They approached the front door of the mansion, where the doorstallion stood stoic and still. The walked up the steps carefully, Rainbow taking extra care on the steps that were just too thin to be easily climbed.
“Miss Scootaloo,” the doorstallion greeted as they neared him. “We were getting worried about you. The master and mistress are in the dining room already—they have had to start the soup without the two of you, as the chef refused to let it go cold and needed the stove to finish the main course.” For a moment, his stoic expression shifted a fraction, and Rainbow was certain he had nearly rolled his eyes. He turned his attention to her, instead. “Miss Rainbow Dash, I presume?”
“Uh, yeah,” she said, shakily. “That’s me.”
“You are also required in the dining room, as soon as you possibly can. I believe Miss Scootaloo can direct you perfectly adequately.” He held the door open for them, and the two mares trotted inside, wary that they probably needed to move fast. Rainbow barely had time to look at the wide, tall hallways and elegant statues and windows that filled the place—Scootaloo had her turning around corners and walking down corridors before she even knew where she was going.
Somehow, sooner than she had time to think about the deep red carpets and the white marble walls that seemed almost like Canterlot Castle and yet, at the same time, were just missing something that made them seem dead, Rainbow found herself standing in the doorway of a large dining hall, a huge table lined up the middle of the room and roaring fires lit in the fireplaces on either wall. Seated at the far end of the table were two earth ponies, a stallion and a mare, impeccably dressed and eating patiently—on the table, beside the mare, lay a pile of grey wool and knitting needles.
She heard Scootaloo swallow and walk slowly up the room towards the head of the table; Rainbow followed slowly, taking in the portraits and tapestries and two bowls of tomato soup that sat, forgotten, in the next two seats along.
Rainbow sat down next to Scootaloo, who was already quietly eating. Her father—what was his name? Ceasar? Yes: Rainbow could just see his cutie mark, a laurel that matched his wife’s—was pointedly ignoring the two of them. Rainbow looked around for a moment or two, uncertain of quite what she had to do, before catching the mare’s gentle smile and nod. She tucked in to the soup, which was was getting a little cold but still tasted excellent.
“Miss Rainbow Dash, if you could please refrain from slurping at your soup like a foal that would be most pleasant for the rest of us.” Rainbow’s hoof froze with her third spoonful barely touching her lips, taking a deep breath as she turned to face Ceasar.
“Sorry,” she said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
There was a lot to remember about eating at a proper dinner table, Rainbow found, and it was quite difficult for her to get the hang of it. The slurping wasn’t hard—she would usually have avoided that wherever possible when in company anyway, and if she hadn’t been so focused on how good the soup itself tasted she’d have probably remained silent—but Rainbow soon found herself baffled by the sheer number of pieces of cutlery laid on the table and Ceasar managed to find something offensive in which ones she chose to eat with for most courses. It was only when his wife, Dainty, pointed out that it was ‘proper to begin with the outmost cutlery’ that Rainbow finally understood that she had even been doing anything wrong. A fork was still a fork, right?
Their soups had been replaced with bowlfuls of strange, ring-shaped pasta that Rainbow hadn’t seen before. She nearly made things worse by trying to tuck in before Ceasar had begun, but a warning glare from Dainty had kept her from eating just in time. After Ceasar smiled curtly and nodded to the stallion at his side (presumably a butler of some kind? The stallion’s clothes were formal yet plain, clearly quite burdensome) dainty and Scootaloo made to eat, and Rainbow raised one of the strange loops to her muzzle, popping it past her lips and biting down on the soft pasta to find that it was filled with a pleasant, soft cheese.
She’d never had this kind of food before, and it was good.
By the time the main course had ended, the silence was getting to Rainbow Dash—nopony had said a word except to tell her that something she was doing was wrong, and Rainbow didn’t like that. She didn’t like the way the silence was making her feel like she had to say nothing, too, that she couldn’t stand up and defend herself from the accusations.
She cleared her throat. Scootaloo looked up, a little hopeful and a little scared; Dainty turned to look at her with a wry, knowing smile; and Ceasar didn’t even acknowledge the sound, not even looking up from his dessert.
“I just wanted to say sorry,” Rainbow said, her voice sounding like thunder compared to the silence of the room before. “It’s my fault that Scootaloo and I were late, and I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting.” That was why they’d been giving them the silent treatment, wasn’t it? Rainbow couldn’t think of any other reason for it.
Ceasar continued to ignore her, but Dainty nodded politely.
“Thank you, Miss Dash,” she replied. “You’re forgiven, though I’d ask that you don’t do it again. We were really rather worried about Scootaloo.”
Rainbow smiled sheepishly back at her.
“Yeah, I’ll make sure I don’t forget next time,” she said, rubbing the back of her head with her hoof. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner tonight,” she added. “It’s really tasty, even if I don’t really know very much about eating fancy meals like this.”
Rainbow bit her lip. She wasn’t really used to being this humble and she was finding it difficult to remember that here was somewhere that it was okay to be uncool. It wasn’t comfortable, though, like it was when she was around Twilight, and perhaps that was because she wasn’t being herself, either—instead, she was playing the part of somepony meek and quiet, apologising for things she hadn’t even known were wrong, and it irked her. Still, she wanted to correct the poor impression she’d made at first. She’d do whatever was required of her if it meant making Scootaloo’s life a little bit easier.
“You’re very welcome,” Dainty replied. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She turned to face the little filly beside Rainbow, her smile still sweet and warm. “Scootaloo, dear, how was your day?”
“It was great!” Scootaloo replied. “I finally got the hang of long division, and Miss Cheerilee says my maths is getting a lot better this last week. And Rainbow Dash took me for a really awesome glide around the park.”
“Have your grades been improving?” Ceasar barely even looked up whilst asking the questions, still keeping his eyes on his dessert.
“Not yet,” Scootaloo said, nervously. “But I think I’ve got the idea now—”
“Then you still need to put in more work,” Ceasar said, simply. “I assume you have homework to do: after dinner you can go the study and get it done.”
“Yes, sir,” Scootaloo replied meekly, looking down at the plate of chocolate mousse that sat before her. She seemed uncomfortable addressing him, not quite catching her eye where she had been perfectly happy to sit and talk with Dainty. Rainbow Dash eyed Ceasar warily as he kept his eyes down on the food before him, trying to see if he was paying any attention to the noises around him. It took her very little time at all to decide that he either was not or he was very good at ignoring the world around him—presumably when he wanted to make a point, as it seemed he had been doing all evening (although what that point was Rainbow couldn’t even begin to guess.) She turned back to her mousse; after the pasta she’d found she was rather full, and the rich, dark chocolate was almost too much for her.
And after that, silence returned again. When Scootaloo finished her mousse, she muttered her excuses and left to get her homework done. Rainbow watched her retreating figure as she walked out of the room.
“Well, Miss Dash,” Ceasar said the moment the door closed behind Scootaloo. Rainbow looked up to see him glaring at her, his eyes hostile and dark. “The purpose of this meal was for me to get a chance to meet my daughter’s surrogate sister and to decide whether or not she was suitable. I wanted to give you a chance to show me how you coped in the role. You’ve disappointed me, Rainbow Dash.”
“Come now, dear—”
“You arrive late, letting your starters get cold and keeping us waiting for our main course,” Ceasar continued, ignoring his wife’s protest. Rainbow sat, frozen once more. “You do not even bother to have learned the proper table manners any foal should know, you are impolite and obstinate, you address me before I address you and above, and beyond all else you do not know your place.”
“My place?” Rainbow asked, confused. “What do you mean?”
“This is exactly what I mean,” Ceasar said with a sigh, holding his head in his hoof. “Your place, Miss Dash, is not to question me. Your place is as Scootaloo’s sister; you are an advisor to her, not an advisor to me. You have failed to impress me Miss Dash. Have a good evening; the butler will show you out.”
Rainbow rose, as if in a trance, uncertain why she was leaving and not staying to fight her corner—to fight Scootaloo’s corner. Despite herself, she walked away, leaving behind her a half-eaten bowl of chocolate mousse and a scrunched-up napkin.
As she left the house—she didn’t even stop to let the waiter show her through the halls, finding that she knew the route through the corridors despite how confused and disoriented she had been when she first walked through them—she spread her wings and took to the sky, flapping powerfully to pull herself up. She soared high above the roof, above the clouds, until she was so high she could almost see Canterlot at her eye level, the mass of bright lights on the mountain in the distance catching her eye like a firefly near a lantern.
She started to fly towards the distant city, but dropped down below the cloud cover after a moment, looking down and scanning the town for the library. Spotting the tree, she tilted herself downwards, leaning to the left as she declined and spread her wings out, simply gliding. It was a curious sensation, one that almost felt like falling forwards, but Rainbow found that nowadays it always reminded her of her evenings with Scootaloo in the park.
She smiled as she fell, her eyes closed, thinking. She only just opened her eyes in time to avoid crashing into the library, quickly angling her dive to avoid the glass windows and roll down onto the porch.
She felt her body slam against the porch, the thud of the impact flowing through her body and momentarily freezing her. By the time she was able to pull herself up from the ground, Twilight was standing over her, her magic wrapping around her. It was warm and comfortable and familiar; Rainbow had always been surprised by how much Twilight’s magic felt like Twilight, even though it was little more than a light tingling sensation and a warm glow. It was different when Rarity’s magic held her, not that that happened all too often.
She found herself being floated inside, and though she expected Twilight to drop her on the floor, to stand and chat for a while, she was surprised to find the unicorn carrying her up the stairs, walking slowly behind her, a bright and mischievous glint in her eye, and suddenly the evening didn’t feel like it had gone quite so badly.