//------------------------------// // Why would you do that? // Story: Three Gems and a Scooter // by RaylanKrios //------------------------------// Scootaloo buzzed home from dance practice on her scooter, exuberant.  Rarity had become her foster mom a month ago and since that time Scootaloo had acquired her own set of towels, some dishes and a few more pictures for her walls in her room. There were a few sleepless nights of worry, but she hadn’t cried in a few weeks. The Carousel Boutique still wasn’t home, but it felt like something close. But right now, at this instant, that didn’t matter, because she had her very own dance solo in an actual show. She could be staying at an orphanage with horribly abusive caretakers and it wouldn’t have lessened the smile on her face one bit. The advanced class was preparing for a show and Toe Tapper had announced the roles at the end of rehearsal. Despite not being in the class for very long, Scootaloo had been cast as one of the featured performers. It wasn’t the lead of the big closing number, and it wasn’t one of  the featured tandem, but it was still a solo, which was more than most ponies could say about their roles. “Rarity, I got a lead! I get my very own solo!” Scootaloo exclaimed gleefully as she burst into the main room of the Carousel Boutique. “That’s wonderful dear! I’m very proud of you and I want to hear all about it over dinner,” Rarity replied with a smile. Confused by Rarity’s not wanting to hear all about it right this very moment, Scootaloo looked around and finally noticed the red coated mare standing in front of the mirror with contrasting white and black fabric swatches with an expression that read as more than a little annoyed. “Oh sorry,” she said, blushing. “Scootaloo this is Scarlett, Scarlett this is my daughter, Scootaloo,” Rarity offered by way of introduction. Though they had agreed not to use the Mom label, introducing Scootaloo as her daughter was the most straightforward way of explaining their relationship; “This is the filly I’ve adopted but it’s not final yet and also we’re not comfortable with the Mom and Daughter label, regardless that is the approximate nature of our relationship” was too unwieldy. “It’s very nice to meet you, Scootaloo,” Scarlett said before reconsidering her fabric options. “Nice to meet you too,” Scootaloo replied. “I hope you get a nice dress, miss,” she added, before turning toward the kitchen, slightly embarrassed but still intent on celebrating with a snack. Scarlett waited until the door to the kitchen closed before speaking again. “I didn’t know you had a daughter. You poor dear, you must have had her so young,” Scarlett said turning her attention to a blueish fabric swatch, whilst Scootaloo retreated from earshot, the judgemental implication clearly evident. Rarity bristled at the condescension, as though it was anypony’s business how old she might have been when she had her non existent foal. “She’s adopted,” came the flat reply. Her client visibly released the tension in her shoulders, which Rarity found more condescending than her original choice of words. “Oh. Oh, poor thing. It was awfully kind of you to take her in, considering.. “Considering?” Rarity asked, ceasing to do anything other than look at her client with an icy stare. Rarity’s glare wasn’t as famed as “The Stare” from Fluttershy, nor did it have the threat of physical violence behind it the way a glare from Rainbow Dash would.  Regardless when Rarity fixed her icy, blue eyes on a pony, it was unnerving. “W-what I mean to say is that... you know, her not knowing her real family and all. I can't imagine what that would be like for her,” Scarlett stuttered. From in the kitchen Scootaloo heard those words and froze where she stood, a fresh wave of self doubt crashing over her. She slumped down against the fridge as she was reminded that Rarity’s client was right, Rarity wasn’t her real family. Her real family had abandoned her and so she was never really going to have a real family, the last few months were just a temporary illusion. But because she couldn’t move, she also heard what came next. “Excuse me,” Rarity scoffed. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re not a good mother. I’m sure you’re doing a wonderful job considering the circumstances, but well, it can’t really be the same for her.” More than a hint of steel crept into Rarity’s voice. “I believe we are done here,” she said, lowering the floating measuring tape down on the table. “But you haven’t finished my fitting, you didn’t even measure my neck.” “Trust me you don’t want me anywhere near your neck with anything that could fit around it,” Rarity muttered. “I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make a dress that suits you. Perhaps you should try Filthy’s Barnyard Bargains,” Rarity said louder, not bothering to mask the increasing level of disgust she was feeling. Scarlett snorted a very audible “Hmph” and muttered something including the phrase “overpriced rags” before storming out, slamming the door behind her. Rarity set about putting away the measuring tools she no longer needed and Scootaloo slowly walked back into the showroom. Rarity saw her adopted daughter and smiled brightly, Scootaloo’s presence helping to wash away the previous negativity. “Was there something else you needed dear?” she asked with a smile. “She was going to buy a dress,” Scootaloo said softly. It took Rarity a moment to realize whom Scootaloo was referring to, having already dismissed Scarlett into the portion of her brain that housed ponies she would never need to remember.“Who? You mean Scarlett?” “She was going to buy something and you kicked her out,” Scootaloo said, repeating the events as she understood them. “I didn’t really—” “Yes you did, you kicked her out just because she said I would never have a real family. Why would you do that?” Scootaloo asked. Her tone wasn’t angry, rather it was one of someone struggling to understand what happened. Had Scarlett threatened her or said something truly awful Scootaloo might have been able to fit that into her understanding of how the world worked, but she couldn't make her interpretation of  the facts fit that narrative. All Scarlett had done was told the truth, and even if Rarity was aware that it was an unpleasant truth, likely to hurt Scootaloo’s feelings, that was still no reason to forgo a commision. Bits were important, certainly more important than her feelings. “Because Scarlett is a boorish, uncouth, haughty cloud-brain who doesn’t know what in Tartarus she is talking about,” Rarity said, covering her mouth as the slur unintentionally slipped past. “But you would have gotten paid,” Scootaloo repeated, trying to comprehend the mechanics of what she just heard. Rarity studied Scootaloo and yet again in a countless number of little moments she felt her heart break a little as she watched Scootaloo wrestle with the idea that her feelings were worth far more than whatever profit Rarity would have received from the dress’s sale. “Perhaps, but—” “But you didn't and it's my fault.” “It is not your fault.” “Yes it is!” Scootaloo insisted. “If you hadn't adopted me, I would never have walked in, and you would—” “Would have probably kicked her out for a different reason. I have quite enough clients who aren’t judgemental—” Rarity stopped herself before she completed her thought. “There are some words a lady shouldn’t say in polite company; the point is that I wouldn't change a thing about adopting you and don't you for one second think otherwise.” That Rarity seemed genuinely angry with her former client, actually made Scootaloo feel better, but it didn’t answer her question.“But she's right. We’ll never be a real family. Why do you even bother?” “Because we are family. Not by blood, perhaps, but that doesn't mean that I love you any less than a biological parent would.” “But how? Why? How could you?” Rarity softened her voice and directed Scootaloo to look at one of the many mirrors in her shop. “You don't see yourself like I do, and I wish so much that you could. You don't see the wonderful, talented, special, frankly amazing filly that I'm so happy to see everyday.” Scootaloo crossed her forelegs and looked away from the reflection. “I'm not any of those things. If I were, I would have a real family, just like she said.” “If you'll pardon the indulgence, I consider myself to be quite the judge of character. So if I say you are wonderful, talented and special then you are.” Scootaloo sighed.  “If you say so,” she replied, but she still seemed unconvinced. “I do,” Rarity said with a satisfied smile. “Now, that’s enough of that. What's this I heard about you getting a solo?”