//------------------------------// // Bonus Chapter: Meeting Missus Steel // Story: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// Thunderlane sat at the living room table, stiff as a board, mouth clenched in his best impression of a smile. “I am so sorry for startling you, really.” Thunderlane gulped and chuckled. “It’s okay, Ma’am. I, err, my bad, really. It’s just that the door was open and I needed to do a check-up.” The mare nodded and quickly got a plate of treats and some cups, with a full tea kettle to match. The cups were made of a fine porcelain, the kind Thunderlane usually saw in places like Canterlot, or a fine Manehattan restaurant. His mind raced to get all the info straight. Here was a light green mare, a pegasus, with deep purple eyes and the same mane cut as Rainbow Dash or Scootaloo, but more importantly: a lean physique and normal-sized, healthy-looking wings. This was a fit pegasus mare, one who wasn’t flying indoors but seemed more than capable of doing so if pressed. He heard a growl behind him, and he stiffened. Apparently his guard had noticed the staring. The mare chuckled. “Oh, don’t mind Chomper and Gnasher, they’re just reminding me they’re there. They only bite when they smell foul play, you see.” “Right, of course.” Thunderlane risked looking behind him. In the corner, there was an orthros; a two-headed dog the size of a bear. Fairly common a sight in Equestria, but relatively rare around Ponyville. The size was not what worried him, either. What worried him was the two heads: a Mustangian shepherd on the left and a Canterlot shepherd on the right. One was a dark reddish brown with a black spot on the nose, and black tufts of fur on its big, almost bat-like ears, as most dog breeds from Mustangia were adapted to mountain climates of some description, and bred for good awareness of their surroundings. The other was a mahogany brown in the face, with black markings all over its muzzle to better show off its pearly whites. Now, the difference between a Canterlot shepherd and a Mustangian shepherd, as any Equestrian dog breeder would say, was an arm and a leg. That’s not to say one was more expensive than the other, it’s just that Mustangian shepherds were bred to guard flocks of sheep and drive away predators with loud barking and the occasional nip, whereas Canterlot shepherds had been bred out of the dogs that unicorn researchers liked to keep, and as such that particular breed had been bred not so much to keep the predators away, but to chase said predators and collect pieces from whichever ones weren’t fast enough. Two hundred years after the breed had been introduced, there were still a few dozen arms and legs in the Canterlot archives of which no one really knew what they were supposed to be attached to. According to some rumours, for most of the pieces, it had been Discord. One head of this orthros was bred for loyalty, awareness, and protection. The other head was designed for dismemberment. So like any pony with a sense of self-preservation, Thunderlane was very, very careful not to make any sudden moves. “Now, what was it you wanted to see me about?” the mare asked. Thunderlane was shaken out of his reverie. “Oh, right. Umm, I’m Scootaloo’s new flight coach. I was told this is where she lives?” “Oh, of course, where are my manners?” The mare slapped herself and reached out across the table to shake his hoof. “I’m Tempered Steel, Scootaloo’s mother.” As he reached over, he got a good look at Steel’s flanks. She had an anvil for a cutie mark, which didn’t leave much to the imagination, especially considering the sword she’d been pointing at him when he’d entered, and the whole collection of sharp items stacked up on the cupboard behind her even now. “I’m Thunderlane. I’m with the Weather Patrol.” She nodded. “Thunderlane? Ah, name rings a bell. You’re also a Wonderbolts recruit, if I heard right, yes?” She knew him. At least that reduced the chances of his limbs becoming exhibit-ready. “Exactly.” “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about? Is my daughter alright?” “Yeah, she’s fine, it’s just that…” He glanced behind Steel to all the swords and knives and daggers piled up. “We’ve been doing the basics today, and she’s having trouble keeping up. So I was wondering if maybe there wasn’t something I’m missing.” “I see.” She took a slow sip of her tea. “Not that I don’t trust your judgment on the matter, but wasn’t Rainbow Dash taking care of that?” “Yes, but Rainbow asked me to look into it. My background is a little different than hers, so… umm, what can you tell me? Does Scootaloo eat healthy? Does she sleep well?” Steel looked pensively at him, then shook her head. “My little girl doesn’t eat particularly healthy or unhealthy. She snacks, she eats what I serve her. She gets plenty of vegetables, plenty of fruits, and plenty of exercise, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He nodded towards the weapons collection behind her. “She’s not in the house much, then, I take it?” That got another chuckle out of her. “No. I prefer my daughter to be out of the house when she can be. There are an awful lot of sharp objects here, as you can see, and Chomper and Gnasher are here. I usually don’t put my collection up back here, but you caught me in the middle of polishing and dusting week, I usually end up moving most of these things around so I can clean out my cupboards.” “You’re a collector, then? A weapons collector?” “Something like that.” She turned and pointed to an ornate dagger lying on the top left corner. “See that black dagger thing there? That’s a replica of the Dragon Dagger, the weapon used by the Green Harmonist in the movie. There are only three copies of it in Equestria: one for the director, one for the actor who used it, and one for me.” Thunderlane furrowed his brow, thinking. “And that long silver thing there? That’s a replica of the Master Sword. That hook thing there, on the bottom? That’s the Blade of-” “Arah,” Thunderlane said. “Huh. I thought those things looked familiar.” He scanned the pile quickly. “They’re not all fantasy swords, though, are they?” “No. Some of them are, some of them I purchased or traded for. There aren’t a lot of places you can get a fantasy sword, but the ponies who want them will pay top bits for them.” Realisation dawned on him at last. “You made those. The fantasy swords.” She smiled brightly. “A girl needs her pocket money, after all.” Scootaloo’s mom was a blacksmith. A pegasus weaponsmith, of course. “So you don’t want your daughter too close by because...” “I get caught up in my work, and as much as I tell her to be careful around the live blades, you can’t ever have zero risk. And I don’t want her inviting friends over because I can’t expect other ponies to tell their little ones how to handle sharp objects. It’s not my place to force that kind of thing, so I don’t.” If Scootaloo didn’t spend that much time here, it could mean that whatever was keeping her down, it likely wasn’t anything in the house. Unless it was in her room or her bed, but that had looked and smelled normal, no alarm bells there. She could have had an accident, though. “So she’s never in the forge, then, either?” “Never. I don’t let her. And her room is up front of the house, so there’s no reason for her friends to ever get far enough inside to see the swords. As for burglars, well-” She nodded towards Chomper and Gnasher again. “Those two have had attack training, they can handle anything from a timberwolf to a unicorn. And if they don’t, I can. Anyone coming in here to steal my collection can have it, one sharpened piece at a time, if you catch my drift.” She winked. “Drift caught. So she’s never had any accidents, then? Never gotten cut?” Steel shrugged. “No more than you’d expect. A few nicks here and there on her hooves, but no scars, certainly never hit a nerve or anything, nothing near her wings. She’s been bruised worse on her scooter. Nothing that would impair her flying.” He probably would have noticed scars when he checked her, anyway. Still, he had to be thorough. “Hmm, strange. And she sleeps well?” “Definitely. With all the fresh air and exercise she gets, she drops like a brick at night.” “What about her father?” Steel tilted her head at him. “You think it’s genetic.” Thunderlane sighed. “I’ve already ruled out the obvious stuff, so… yeah, genetics would make sense. Do flight problems run in your family?” The mare shook her head while Thunderlane nibbled on a biscuit. “No, not especially. I don’t fly much, but I can keep up with most. So can my husband; he’s a delivery pony who does the rounds between here and Cloudsdale. You’ve probably seen him around, but you wouldn’t know by his appearance. Scootaloo got her temper from her father, but she got her looks from mine. And neither my parents nor my husband’s had any major defects, so it’s not something that skips a generation.” “And did you learn to fly normally, if I might ask? Were you a late-bloomer, by any chance?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I learned at Flight Camp, like most kids do, after I learned to hover. I couldn’t keep up with the little jocks, but no one made a big deal about it.” Thunderlane’s ears perked as he sipped the tea. “Really, now? Did the teachers say what the issue was?” “Well, it’s a little embarrassing, but… apparently I was considered somewhat, umm...” “Considered… what?” “Obese. For my age, apparently I was too fat. I looked like any other foal, though, but I can only assume it was a breed thing. You don’t start slamming hammers into hot steel when you’re ten, so there wasn’t a lot of physical activity for me to do. I think they said it had something to do with a… global fat thing?” “A fat globule?” “Yes, exactly, that. I had a swelling underneath my wings. They put me on a diet for a day or two, and after I lost some baby fat I was fine. Somehow, I doubt my daughter is too fat to fly, and I’d have felt it if she had any swelling.” Bingo. “No, no, that’s definitely not it. What about diseases? Anything that runs in your family, or her father’s, that might be keeping her grounded?” “Nothing comes to mind, no. She’s quite a healthy little girl, my daughter. Never gets sick for longer than a day, hardly ever gets a fever, even. I think she might be jealous of her classmates for that.” He squinted, pondering. Gotta make sure without her noticing. “But surely she’s had the trots, at least? Or stomach flu? Some sort of reaction to her shots? She’s never been, you know, bed-ridden?” Again, Steel shook her head. “No, never. She walks it off. Probably spreads it around like that, too, but what can you do?” Thunderlane fell silent. “Does that answer your question?” He nodded. “I think it does. I’ve got a few ideas that might work.” Steel let a silence fall between them. “Mind telling me what they are?” “Ah, some pegasus ponies run a different kind of magic than most,” he lied. “It takes a minor shift in diet to unlock it. Either you or your husband must have descended from a taigan.” Steel whistled. “We both are, actually. I’m impressed. How’d you guess that?” “Pegasi with blood from colder regions don’t learn to fly as easily as the ones from warmer areas: they only used their wings to keep warm, originally. The magic that triggers their first flight has more to do with food for them than it does with practice. I’m guessing what they gave you at Flight Camp was green milkshakes?” Tempered Steel nodded. “Yes. But they said it was my weight. That I had to lose weight.” “You probably did, but these things tend to be connected,” he lied again. “What they gave you is a mix of things. They use this universal blend at Flight Camp, kind of a catch-all solution for about thirty different flight problems. I don’t know the exact recipe, but I know where to find the right kinds of moss and herbs. If it is what I think it is, it should be fixed pretty quickly.” Her ears perked, and her mouth curled up into a petulant smile. The orthros behind Thunderlane whined, though whether that was a cry of joy or disappointment at not getting intruder legs to chew on, it was hard to say. Regardless, Missus Steel didn’t pay any attention to it. “Oh. Oh, that would be perfect. Now that we have that out of the way, would you mind terribly, ah, enlightening me on some matters, as well?” “Such as?” Her gaze hardened. “Let’s talk about Rainbow Dash, Mister Thunderlane. Why are you here, and not her?” “Because I’m taking over for her,” Thunderlane explained. “And why has she not shown herself earlier? Say, when she first started socialising with my daughter? Or when my daughter nearly fell to her death on a camping trip, right under Rainbow’s nose?” “I, err, I don’t know, honestly. If I had to guess, it’s because she’s scared.” Right on cue, the orthros growled from one of its heads. Thunderlane prayed it was the Mustangian one. Steel shot him a glare that nailed him to his seat. “I mean, you understand my concern, I should hope? Scootaloo idolises Rainbow Dash, worships her. And now she’s started spending time with her. Yet Rainbow Dash has never come here to speak to me. She doesn’t know my name. What if my little girl has an accident on her watch? What is she going to do then?” He gulped. “I think that’s something you need to discuss with her, Ma’am. And if you have a problem with your daughter spending time with Rainbow Dash, or with me, for that matter, I think that’s between you and your daughter. With all due respect.” “You, I don’t have a problem with, Thunderlane. You are sitting right here, in front of me, in front of my guard dog.” She nodded to Chomper and Gnasher. “You, I can judge right here and now. Rainbow Dash, I cannot. So, with that in mind, I have to ask: what do you think of her?” “Of Rainbow Dash? What do you want to know?” “Is she a danger to my daughter?” Thunderlane’s eyes immediately darted to the impressive blade collection behind her. Or rather, a part of her blade collection, he realised. There was more in the back. “No, I don’t think so.” “You don’t sound very convinced.” Thunderlane took a sip of tea to calm himself. “Look, Rainbow Dash is reckless, brash, and she gets herself into trouble. That much is true. But she’s a good Captain, she does her job, she takes responsibility. And she gets herself into trouble, not anypony else.” “Yet she let my daughter dive off a waterfall during a road trip.” Thunderlane saw the doubt in her eyes. This didn’t add up. “I see. So Scootaloo is dead now?” Steel chuckled. “I think that’s beside the point.” “No, Ma’am, it’s not. Rainbow Dash is a trained rescue pony.” “She’s a Flight School dropout.” Bingo again. Wow, I’m on a roll today. He sat back and smirked. “Oh. So that’s what’s really bothering you. You don’t want your daughter to neglect her education. You think Rainbow Dash is a bad role model.” Steel scoffed. “Are you implying she’s not?” “Implying? No. I’m remarking that for all her faults, she still managed to coach all the pegasi in town for hurricane duty. I’m telling you that the Weather Patrol made her leader for a good reason.” “You trust her, then? After what she pulled with you at tornado duty?” So she’d heard about that, too. “Yes, I trust her, with my life. And she trusts me with hers. We’re Weather Patrol, and future Wonderbolts. We have our own security protocols, and Rainbow Dash knows them better than anyone.” “Could have fooled me.” He shook his head, meeting her steely gaze head on. “Don’t think I can’t put two and two together, Missus Steel. You’re a weaponsmith, and judging from the pile back there, you don't mass produce, either, only custom work. Most of your regular business involves the Royal Guard ceremonies, ponies who are high up in the food chain. Ponies with a sense of leadership. And your daughter never rides a scooter without putting on her helmet, ever. For all the crazy stuff Scootaloo does around town, she never gets injured. You think Rainbow Dash is beneath the ponies you consort with. You think she doesn’t know safety.” The orthros growled again, from both heads. “Careful with your tone, Mister Thunderlane. My guard is very sensitive.” He smiled. “Nice try. But that thing’s not going to bite me, not now. It’s had time to sniff me out. You said it’s had attack training. That means it’ll only attack me if it’s commanded to, or if it smells animosity. It wouldn’t respond to the tone of my voice, only yours.” Steel chuckled. “You’re trying to test me, aren’t you? You want to see what I react to.” He took another long, careful sip of the tea. “I am very careful when it comes to my daughter, Mister Thunderlane. I don’t intend to let her get hurt, and if that means vetting the ponies she consorts with, I will. I know your reputation, I know you are thorough. And my orthros seems to like you. But that doesn’t change the facts, and it doesn’t answer my question. Is Rainbow Dash a threat to my daughter?” “No. She’d never let a kid get hurt on her watch,” he lied. “So you trust her, then, not just with your life, but with your little brother’s?” His ears perked. “You are Rumble’s big brother, are you not? Little light grey pegasus, athletic, ridiculously strong flyer? And a bit of a… how do I put this...” “A jock?” “I was going to say ‘girly boy.' Is he on medication, per chance?” Thunderlane’s jaw clenched. “What medication would he be on?” “Well, I’ve seen him around, he doesn’t look like any normal boy. And much like you, I know his reputation.” He sighed and leaned forward. “Pardon me saying so, Missus Steel, but what you know isn’t a reputation; it’s gossip. My little brother is not on any medication. He’s a regular boy, just like any colt in town.” “With a seven-ish wingpower.” “With a… yes, seven. Ish. He doesn’t push it too far, most of the time. And he's not on steroids, if that's what you're thinking.” “Not the steroids that grow muscle, you mean." "Not any kind," Thunderlane replied curtly. This, judging by her expression, came as a surprise to the mare. "So he is perfectly normal, then? No, ah, deviancies, as they say?” Thunderlane quirked his eyebrow. “Nothing that your daughter might be confused by, or needs to be sheltered from, no.” “Good to know.” Thunderlane grumbled. “So what do you plan to do, then?” “About?” “Rainbow Dash and your daughter.” “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” “I’m a Weather Patrol official, Ma’am. I have a certificate; I’m qualified to intervene when it comes to young flyers. So is Rainbow Dash, by the way. Are you planning to stop Scootaloo from being around Rainbow Dash?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What if I did? For the safety of my daughter, do you not think I’d be justified?” “Justified? Maybe. Right? Definitely not. If Scootaloo wants to learn how to fly, the Weather Patrol is obliged, by law, to provide basic training and oversee her safety. As soon as she takes off from the ground, she’s my responsibility. Our responsibility. And Rainbow Dash doesn’t play around with other ponies’ safety.” “That’s not what I heard.” “Then you haven’t been talking to anyone on the Weather Patrol. You’ve been talking to ponies who only see her work from afar, who aren’t there when she has to get everypony in line for a big shift. You’ve only talked to ponies on the ground.” He glanced at her wings. “And I think you know that there’s a big difference in perspective for that.” Steel sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I do apologise, I only want what’s best for my daughter. And the idea that someone who’s been teaching her for a day would think to come see me, when she hasn’t after all this time...” “If I might offer one tiny little remark on that?” “What?” “Suppose Scootaloo didn’t get hurt on her watch? What if she had an accident on yours?” “I beg your pardon?” “What if you made a mistake, and Scootaloo got hospitalised because of it? A dumb accident, one in a million. Do you think Rainbow Dash wouldn’t react the same way you would?” There, the mare fell silent. “Look, Rainbow Dash is my friend, so obviously I’m biased. I don’t expect you to believe me. But I’m pretty sure you know by now Scootaloo and Rainbow are pretty close. They did the Sisterhooves Social together, for crying out loud.” “Yes,” Steel said with a smile. “I couldn’t say no: she’s an only child.” “So is Rainbow, I think. My point is: Rainbow Dash is invested in Scootaloo. She cares about what happens to her. And she doesn’t have the easiest time coming to terms with painful truths. Rainbow’s a quick responder, trained to get to a crisis fast and make decisions in a split second. It’s not in her nature to take her time solving problems, because most of the time she can’t afford to waste time thinking at all. That’s why she’d rather avoid talking about Scootaloo’s flying problem. She’s out of her depth on that, that’s why she asked me.” Tempered Steel’s ears perked. “But she is a good teacher, for some things,” Thunderlane said. “She’s training my little brother right now. And she’s certainly not a risk. Besides, there are procedures. Rainbow Dash isn’t allowed to be unsafe, not with a child. She’s friends with Princess Twilight Sparkle, and Fluttershy, the local animal manager, those all know safety. She knows the risks, and she knows not to put anyone in danger if they can’t get out of it. Your daughter is safer, hanging out with Rainbow Dash. She’s not going to get hurt any more than she would be on her own.” “But she is going to get hurt, you mean?” “You’re the one with the swords and knives laying about, Ma’am. Zero risk is a myth.” “That doesn’t excuse her avoiding me,” Steel said. “Is she, though?” “What do you mean?” “Rainbow Dash flies over Ponyville all the time. You said yourself your daughter is spending time with her. If you are that worried, why don’t you ask her to come over?” “She is the one imposing on my daughter, she should have the decency to come to me,” Steel hissed. Thunderlane chuckled, before grabbing a treat. “You know, for somepony who listens to the gossip about Rainbow Dash and my brother, you don’t seem to be very aware of what goes on in this town.” “I have my sources, thank you.” “Hmm, the flower sisters, I take it? Lily, Daisy, and Rose?” She snorted. “I guess your sources leave out the gossip that’s been going around about Scootaloo, huh?” “What, that she has a crush on your little brother? Please, they’re friends, at best. And Rumble wouldn’t be interested, anyway, from what I hear.” He gritted his teeth at that. “No, I was referring to Scootaloo being an orphan.” “But that’s ridiculous. I’m sitting right here.” “Yes, and no one who keeps their eyes on Scootaloo has seen you. Scootaloo spends a lot of time on Sweet Apple Acres, and around Sugarcube Corner. Yet the consensus in town is that you do not even exist. Applejack doesn’t know about you, Granny Smith doesn't know about you, the Cakes don’t know about you, even Pinkie Pie doesn’t know who you are. And that’s Pinkie Pie.” “That’s hardly a problem,” she argued. “Because of the swords, I take it? And the forge? And that massive two-headed death on legs in the corner?” Right on cue, Chomper and Gnasher raised their heads, expecting a treat, because they were a smart pair like that. Tempered Steel sighed. Thunderlane bit his lip. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but if you ask me, it’s one or the other. You either keep a secret and deal with the difficulties on your own, or you come clean and let everypony know, and then you face whatever ponies have to say about that.” “What would you know about that?” What, indeed. “Trust me, you’re not the only pony I’ve met who hides this sort of thing.” “The other pony being your brother, I take it?” Thunderlane didn’t reply to that. “Alright, I won’t pry. But I hope you know that little Rumble does not look as normal as you say he does, not to other ponies. I get a lot of strange ponies asking for complements to their costumes, pieces of armour. My clients come in all shapes and sizes. I’ve met more than a few individuals who were, ah… complicated.” “Take my word for it, Ma’am. My little brother is surprisingly simple once you get to know him.” “Am I to assume my daughter will, then? Get to know Rumble?” He sat back and sighed. “I can only assume she would, once she manages to start flying. Why, do you not trust him, either?” She snorted. “To tell you the truth, I trust him with my daughter more than I trust Rainbow Dash.” Thunderlane wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment to his little brother, or a prejudice he should take offence at. Steel didn’t notice. “The way I hear it, he can catch a filly his own weight in mid-fall without breaking a sweat.” “That’s true. That’s not just gossip, he does that almost every day.” “Then I think I can live with the idea of my little girl learning to fly, even if it is from Rainbow Dash. As long as there is another filly around to catch her, it’s fine.” “Rumble is a colt,” Thunderlane said, trying his best not to let an edge slip into his voice. “Slip of the tongue. Like I said, some of my clients are, ah, complicated. They get touchy about their pronouns. Speaking of which...” she tilted her head sideways and waved towards the white unicorn coming in. “Dazzle! I just made the final touches on your item this morning.” “Tempy, hi! Did I come in at a bad time?” “No, no, I was just about to leave,” Thunderlane said. “Thanks for the tea, Missus Steel. And for the information.” “Please, call me Tempy. Everypony who’s welcome in my house does.” “Was there anything else you wanted to know?” Thunderlane asked. “No, no, I have more than enough to think about.” She got up and waved a hoof towards Dazzle. “Come on, Dazzle, you’re going to love what I did with your armour.” Thunderlane heard the orthros growl at him when he walked off, but he didn't smell angry enough to make it attack. Calm down, Thunderlane. She’s just a concerned mother, who listens to gossip. Including about your little brother. And it’s not like he has any issues. He’s a big boy, he can work it out on his own. And if he couldn’t, he knows he can talk to you about anything. No need to worry. Just focus on Scootaloo, worry about everything else later.