The answer to Rarity’s question turned out to be salad. It was a simple dish but one that Rarity was happy to agree to even though Scootaloo expressed a preference for dandelion greens over arugula. Rarity made a mental note that Scootaloo seemed to particularly enjoy the orchids she added so perhaps that was something else she could work with.
It was still Saturday; there were a number of social engagements going on in town that Rarity could attend: Filthy Rich was hosting a soirée, Fluttershy had offered her a standing invitation to come over whenever she wanted, and she was sure that Pinkie Pie could be persuaded to go out. Rarity glanced at her saddlebags, filled with the library books she brought home and then stole a glance upstairs as she listened to the sounds of Scootaloo playing in Sweetie’s-no her- room. Somehow another quiet evening in seemed more appealing than anything else she could be doing.
She levitated a blanket over to her sofa, lit a fire to fight back the chill night air, and cracked open her first selection, 101 Tips for Raising Happy Foals. Half an hour of reading later she had learned such gems as “don’t give your foals too much candy” and “invest in some foalproof locks for keeping them out from under the sink”. With a groan Rarity set it aside and cracked open her next selection; Bringing up Fillies.
There was no chapter titled, How to heal an emotionally traumatized filly whose idol is almost surely going to disappoint her, but it did contain some very practical parenting advice. For starters, it made very clear that every filly was different; there was no singular correct way to raise them. The second point that Rarity found reassuring was that observing what worked with one’s own filly was a large part of raising a happy one. If Scootaloo responded well to discipline she should endeavor to keep an orderly house. If, on the other hoof, it appeared that Scootaloo was more receptive to a softer approach, then Rarity should indeed use velvet gloves, so to speak.
Rarity hadn’t spent enough time with Scootaloo to develop a comprehensive parenting philosophy. It appeared that Scootaloo did not respond well to challenges, but that she was receptive to honesty; however that was as far as Rarity had gotten. Scootaloo also seemed used to being able to make her own decisions, whether that was because she felt she couldn’t trust anypony else or because she prized her independence was a mystery that Rarity wasn’t sure she’d ever solve.
The other tangible thing that appeared to help Scootaloo was Rarity’s swaddling spell. She had only used it twice but both times it had resulted in Scootaloo being fast asleep for the rest of the night.
The beginning of the psychology section warned against parents playing armchair psychiatrist. In big bold letters was a warning that any parent with serious concerns about the mental well being of their filly should seek professional help. However the book also acknowledged that young fillies got scared and nervous and sad and that all of these things were part of growing up.
Rarity wasn’t quite willing to chalk Scootaloo’s episodes up to simple growing pains; however the reminder that dealing with volatile emotions was part of being a parent was a welcome confirmation that the task she had undertaken was by no means unique.
Task? Wait, no. I am simply offering Scootaloo a place to stay until a proper family can be located. I care about her well being as much as I would any guest staying at the Boutique.
It was obvious that Scootaloo became more emotional at night, a fairly common problem with both fillies and colts according to the book. At least the swaddling spell seemed to have a calming effect. Therefore, Rarity reasoned, that she should keep doing it, even if it was only a temporary solution. Perhaps if Scootaloo got into the habit of falling asleep quickly she would soon be able to do so without assistance. Eager to test her new hypothesis she went upstairs to find Scootaloo, hoping that her guest hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Rarity knocked on the door and gently pushed it open, pleased to find Scootaloo sitting at her desk coloring some more pictures, more wall art perhaps?
At the sound of a hoof rapping against the door Scootaloo turned her head, her ears perked up a little and Rarity would swear that there was a hint of a smile that hadn’t been there before she entered.
“Hi, Rarity,” Scootaloo said, setting down the blue crayon she was previously holding.
Rarity returned the smile, regardless of whether or not it actually existed. “I’d like you to do me a favor.”
Scootaloo’s ears perked up further. “Sure!”
“I’d like you to let me tuck you in tonight,” Rarity suggested cautiously.
Scootaloo’s ears fell to their usual semi-droopy state. “That’s it? That’s not really a favor. I was hoping you’d let me do something to make it up to you for paying for my dance lessons.”
“I said that was a gift, remember?”
“Why do you want to tuck me in anyway?” Scootaloo asked, fixing Rarity with a curious, almost wary, expression.
Scootaloo’s trust was fragile. So far she had demonstrated very little tolerance for lies, even benign ones. “I’ve noticed that the past two nights you’ve let me do my… horn thing, you’ve slept peacefully for the rest of the evening. I’d like to see if tucking you in will help you get to sleep without crying. Of course, if you’d rather I not, I understand.”
Scootaloo scrunched her face and looked down at her drawing. She stayed silent for a few moments, silently weighing the pros and cons of willingly allowing Rarity that level of intimacy. Other places she had stayed in had offered to tuck her in at night, or read her a bedtime story, and she always turned them down because letting another pony get too close was a sure way to end up hurt. But what if this was different? If nothing else, Scootaloo did enjoy the tactile nature of Rarity’s spell. “That might be okay. I mean it does feel kind of nice…”
Rarity smiled a broad smile and clapped her hooves together. “Splendid! Are you ready for bed now?”
“Umm, can I stay up another hour?” Scootaloo asked with the same wide eyes that Rarity was used to seeing on Sweetie Belle when she made similar requests.
It was impossible to deny such a childish wish. “I suppose there’s no harm in staying up a little later.”
An hour later Rarity returned to find Scootaloo climbing into bed. She wore a nervous expression; it didn’t look like fear, more like apprehension. Either way, Rarity would have preferred it be nonexistent. Scootaloo burrowed under the covers, peeking out at Rarity as she sat down near the edge of the bed.
“Ready for bed, dear?” Rarity asked as non-threatening as she could, given that the phrase was not particularly ominous anyway. Scootaloo nodded, though still clearly nervous, from her haven under the down comforter and Rarity flared up her horn. She hummed a soft lullaby as she let the spell work its magic.
She watched carefully as Scootaloo twitched, her body going tense for a few moments before relaxing. Her eyes fluttered closed and soon the little filly was blissfully sleeping as though all was right with the world.
Rarity went to bed soon after, and even without anypony to tuck her in, she slept more soundly than she had for the past few nights.
The next morning, Scootaloo came bounding down the stairs as Rarity was preparing breakfast. It was only one night, but Rarity was pleased that Scootaloo seemed in much higher spirits than usual.
“So whatcha’ up to today?” Scootaloo asked as she eagerly poured milk into her cereal.
Rarity paused to consider the question. As always, there was work to be done. Dresses needed to be sewn, orders needed to be placed and trends needed to be monitored. “The idea of spending the day in my parlor room sounds absolutely dreadful.” Rarity groaned. “How about a poker lesson after breakfast instead?” she asked cheerfully.
“Sure! Are you going to teach me how to bluff, and spot a tell and all that cool stuff?” Scootaloo asked, her wings buzzing.
“In time, but first you have to learn the basic rules of poker.”
Scootaloo frowned, her hopes at being instantly transformed into a card shark, dashed. “That doesn’t sound very fun.”
“Fun or not, it is quite necessary,” Rarity said as she levitated a pair of spectacles and a green visor over the table along with a deck of cards by way of preparation.
Scootaloo finished her breakfast, took a quick shower and trotted downstairs eager to get the boring parts of learning how to play poker out of the way, so she could start impressing her friends. Maybe she could even trick Diamond Tiara into a game for actual bits.
“Pull up a chair, dear,” Rarity said as she began magically shuffling the cards in preparation for Scootaloo’s first lesson.
Scootaloo did as she was bid. She had played poker before so she already knew which combinations of cards were better than the others, but that was about as far as her knowledge of the game went. Rarity set about explaining how to quickly calculate the odds that one of her opponents had drawn the cards they needed. She started out teaching Scootaloo the fundamentals of Troxtas Hold ‘em. All of the players were dealt two cards and then five cards were placed in the middle of table for all the players to share. Because of this communal pot much less math was involved then in a game of straight up five card draw, where Scootaloo would be required to make several guesses about what an opponent may or may not be holding. Math wasn’t Scootaloo’s favorite subject but she appeared to be picking up the nuances of guesstimating odds quickly, much to Rarity's delight.
As Rarity was reshuffling the deck in preparation for another hand, a knock on the door interrupted their peaceful morning. “Autumn, what are you doing here? I was under the impression that the foal services office was closed on Sundays,” Rarity said, opening the door only to find Scootaloo’s social worker waiting patiently on the other side.
“If I didn’t take my work home with me, it’d never get done,” he replied with a shrug. “Anyways I come bearing good news: there’s a new family in Ponyville and they are looking to adopt. They’d like to meet with Scootaloo tomorrow. Unless you’d like to reschedule.”
Scootaloo trotted over and stood next to Rarity. Standing quietly she processed what Autumn was saying as well as Rarity's reaction. “That is wonderful news! Scootaloo, do you have any objections?” Rarity asked, glancing down, expecting to see some form of joy from the news that Scootaloo might soon have the family she craved.
But whereas Rarity was quite obviously delighted at the news, Scootaloo betrayed no discernible emotion.“I guess not,” she mumbled.
Scootaloo’s lack of enthusiasm caused Rarity to reconsider her previous elation. “Is something wrong, darling?”
Scootaloo shook her head. “No, tomorrow’s fine,” she said louder, but still without any feeling.
Rarity waited for Scootaloo to offer any further explanation but was met with only silence.
Autumn cleared his throat in an effort to break up the rapidly thickening tension. “Tomorrow after school it is.” He offered Scootaloo a smile and then a quick smile and nod at Rarity before turning around to no doubt deal with the rest of his caseload.
Rarity closed the door and turned back towards Scootaloo. “Well, that was certainly unexpected. Shall we continue our lesson?”
“I think I’d like to go play by myself,” Scootaloo mumbled, hurrying upstairs before Rarity could respond.
As Rarity watched Scootaloo disappear behind the door to her room the only thought she had was, What just happened?