Trauma
Chapter 9: Trauma
The sun was just barely cresting the horizon as Dawn silently stepped out the door. He cast a wary glance behind him at the home he shared with Fluttershy. He had once again spent the night cradled in her arms and wings, basking in the warmth of her unconditional affection. After what he had experienced yesterday, it had been something he sorely needed.
Were this a normal day, Dawn would have quickly made his way to Scootaloo's house so that they could meet up for their morning training. However, he had other plans that morning. Spreading his wings, the young colt took to the air and fixed his eyes on his current destination, a small mansion sculpted from clouds that hovered just above Ponyville. A single beat was enough to send the colt on his way. In spite of everything that had already happened, there remained one important piece of business for Dawn to take care of.
It was only a few moments before he reached Rainbow Dash's cloud home, coming in to land softly on her front porch. Stepping up to the door, Dawn raised his hoof to knock, only to pause as he realized it might be a futile effort. After all, Rainbow was somewhat notorious for not being a morning pony, only getting up early if the town's weather schedule required it. On top of that, she was only a few days into her vacation and was probably enjoying every opportunity she had to sleep in. And, of course, the events of the previous day were probably difficult for her in their own way. There was almost no chance that she would be awake this early.
So, as Dawn lowered his hoof and contemplated what to do, he was surprised to see the door open anyway. Looking up, he noted a pale-blue stallion was looking down at him with an amused smile.
"I thought I heard somepony out here," said Soarin' with a grin, "What's up?"
Dawn blinked for a moment, surprised that Soarin' had noticed his approach to the cloud house, possibly without even having seen him. But then again, he was second-in-command of the Wonderbolts, which marked him as a skilled pony in his own right.
This makes things easier actually, thought Dawn. "I was hoping to speak to you," he said, "I need to get a message to Spitfire."
Soarin's look of amusement dissolved into one of confusion. "Uh...sure. What about?"
Dawn looked around carefully. There wasn't anypony nearby, which meant they were unlikely to be overheard. On the other hoof, this information was extremely sensitive. While he trusted most everypony in Ponyville, the last thing he wanted was to take even the slightest risk that this information might reach the wrong ears.
"Could I speak to you inside?" asked Dawn, "This is important."
"Okay," agreed the stallion, quickly ushering the ebony colt into the house.
Sweat matted Scootaloo's coat as she pushed herself through another repetition of the First Form. Her legs and wings were shaking from the ceaseless exertion as she went through it again and again. Even without using her magic, she was still pushing her body to its limits. If she didn't let up soon, her legs and wings would probably give out and she'd collapse to the ground, maybe even pass out from the exhaustion.
But she didn't care. Right now, the thoughtless state of going through the motions quelled her mind, allowing the sick feeling that had settled into her stomach since yesterday to fade. During the form, she felt safe, safe from herself, from her thoughts, from her feelings. She felt safe from everything...
...Everything except death. Rainbow had covered her eyes while Willow had quietly passed away in front of Dawn. But Scootaloo had seen enough. What she saw had been burned into her eyes in such a way that she could still picture the scene as clear as day whenever she closed her eyes...whether or not she wanted to. Even in her sleep, she was haunted by the events of the previous day, the fear and dread of waiting in the classroom, the terror of being mere inches from death as Willow held her, the horror of realizing that Willow's blood had splattered across her face.
When Rainbow had brought Scootaloo home, the filly had rushed into the bathroom. She'd danced about irritably as she waited for the tub to fill and then dove in without the slightest hesitation. She'd soaped up a sponge and scrubbed herself down, cleaning harder than she'd ever cleaned before. She cleaned off the sticky blood, turning the water around her a mild pink color. She scrubbed until her fur started to get rubbed off. She scrubbed until the skin beneath her coat was beginning to feel hurt and raw. She'd only stopped scrubbing when Rainbow and Melon had come in and forced her out of the tub.
They dried her off and took her into the living room. Melon Cream held her daughter tightly as she and Rainbow Dash talked about what happened. Soarin' was there too, though Scootaloo couldn't recall if he'd said or done anything important. Scootaloo could barely remember the conversation and most of the details had become muddled in her brain. She only remembered that, in spite of everything, she still felt dirty, as though the blood had soaked in through her coat and skin and stained something much more important. At that time, Scootaloo wanted nothing more than to pry herself out of her mother's arms and rush back into the bathroom and start the cleaning process all over again.
Rainbow and Melon both noticed Scootaloo's unease. However, Melon had kept a tight grip on her daughter. She and Rainbow continued to talk until Scootaloo's eyes got heavy, until she couldn't remember anything anymore.
She slept until her nightmares wouldn't let her sleep anymore. She'd wondered if Princess Luna might show up at some point and help her, but if the Princess had been there, her presence had gone unnoticed. When Scootaloo awoke, it was still dark, though the moon was dipping below the horizon.
Unable to return to sleep, the filly had stepped outside and done the only thing she felt could help her at the moment. She began practicing. She meditated, falling into the blissful emptiness, void of thought or feeling as she went from one repetition to the next. She practiced as the sun crested the horizon, she practiced as her limbs began to shake, she practiced as her breathing got more and more difficult. She practiced and practiced, hours becoming a blur. She practiced until she couldn't move another step.
When Scootaloo finally slumped, exhausted and panting to the ground, she realized she felt better. The sick feeling in her stomach was still there. But it felt muted, farther away. It's not going to just disappear is it, she thought listlessly, I guess I'll have to deal with it somehow.
"Scootaloo!"
Melon Cream's shout brought the orange filly to her senses as she weakly raised her head and stared back at the house. Her mother was there, staring aghast at her daughter, who'd collapsed in their front yard. Without saying another word, she trotted over, lifted Scootaloo onto her back, and carried her back into the house, closing the door behind them.
Melon carried Scootaloo back into the bathroom and ran a tub full of hot water. After the tub was full, she lowered her filly into the water before climbing in herself. It had been many years since she and Scootaloo had taken a bath together. In spite of that, Melon's hooves worked surely and easily, the memories of cleaning her daughter coming back to her over time. She gently rubbed the soapy sponge against Scootaloo's fur, careful to avoid agitating her skin after Scootaloo had scrubbed it so hard last night. She carefully ran it over and through the feathers of Scootaloo's wings, cleaning them delicately before preening them back into shape afterwards. All the while, Scootaloo's eyes drooped closed as she very nearly drifted off in response to her mother's ministrations.
After she had washed all the sweat and grime out of Scootaloo, Melon pulled her out of the tub and dried both Scootaloo and herself down. Then, grabbing the hairbrush from the counter, she took her filly into the living room and settled onto the couch, gently running the brush through Scootaloo's mane.
Normally not one to appreciate being pampered, particularly when it came to getting her unruly mane brushed, Scootaloo felt surprisingly at ease as her mother continued to brush her mane gently. Eventually, the weight of the little filly's exertions caught up with her. Her fatigue, combined with the gentle caress of the brush, combined to relax her, causing Scootaloo's eyes to slowly close until she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Soarin', giving the letter he'd just written a troubled look.
"I got it straight from the horse's mouth," replied Dawn calmly, "Though she didn't have much strength left at the time, I had no difficulty understanding what Willow said."
"I know," said Soarin' nervously, "The worst part is, it makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. Even so, it's really hard to believe."
"We only have Willow's word on the matter," replied Dawn, "And while I believe she was honest in her final moments, I can understand if there's nothing you can do without further proof."
Soarin' sighed. "We'll have to leave it to Spitfire."
He jumped off the cloud couch and rushed upstairs to the guest room, returning a few seconds later with beautiful varicolored feather clamped between his teeth. Settling back down on the couch, he spit it out so that it rested next to the letter. "It's been a while since I've had to use one of these."
"What is it?"
"It's one of Ouranos's feathers," replied Soarin', "Using this, I can send it straight to Ouranos, who, if he isn't already with Spitfire, can deliver it to her." He sighed. "The problem is, once I use it, the feather's gone and Spitfire will probably have to send Ouranos back with the reply."
"We could take it to Spike, so you wouldn't have to use the feather," suggested Dawn.
Soarin' shook his head. "Thanks, but no. Using this will let Spitfire know that it's urgent Wonderbolts' business of the highest priority. These feathers are meant to be used for emergency missives. And if what you're saying is true, then this counts as an emergency."
Picking up the feather, Soarin' touched it to the roll of parchment. In an instant, both feather and parchment vanished in a burst of red and purple flame, leaving a small cloud of varicolored motes that quickly streamed out in the direction of Cloudsdale.
Both Dawn and Soarin' watched it go before turning to look at each other. An awkward silence descended on the living room of the cloud house as neither really knew what else to say.
"So now what?" asked Soarin'.
"I honestly don't know," replied Dawn, "There isn't much else to do but wait."
"Why don't you go check up on Scootaloo," suggested Soarin', "Rainbow and I took her home yesterday, but she was hit pretty hard by what happened."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt," mused Dawn, "But I should head to my home first. After what happened yesterday, I don't want mom to get worried because she woke up and I'm not there anymore. She might start thinking that I left without her again."
Soarin' grinned. "Go do whatcha need to kid."
"Sweetie Belle," called Rarity gently as she entered the room, "It's time to get up dear."
In the darkness of the room, a blanket-covered lump on the mattress shifted and groaned.
"Come now Sweetie," said Rarity as gently and patiently as she could, "I know that yesterday was difficult, but there's been no notice that school's been cancelled today. You weren't hurt at all, so there's no reason for you not to go." Lighting her horn, Rarity pulled back the window curtains with her magic, letting sunlight stream in. Next she turned and levitated the covers off the bed to reveal the filly laying beneath. "Now, let's get up and-Good gracious! What happened to you?"
"Wha-what are you talking about Rarity?" Sweetie Belle sat up, rubbing her eyes. Unfortunately, that did little to help her complexion with the dark shadows beneath them and their bloodshot color indicating a serious lack of sleep. To make matters worse, her coat was ruffled and her mane a tangled mess, the result of constant tossing and turning.
"Sweetie Belle," whispered Rarity, climbing onto the bed and hugging her sister to her, "What happened?"
"I...I couldn't sleep," said Sweetie softly, "I'd be about to do it, then I'd hear something and..." Her body began to shake. "I keep thinking it's her!"
"Shh," soothed Rarity, gently stroking her younger sister's head, "It's alright Sweetie. Everything's alright. You're safe now. That mare can't hurt or scare you anymore."
"I-I know that," said Sweetie, pressing her face into Rarity's chest, "But it feels like that doesn't matter. Yesterday, that fog...that knocking...It all felt so unreal, like it wasn't really happening. But it was!" Sweetie was crying now. "So it doesn't feel real to say that she's gone either."
"Oh Sweetie Belle," whispered Rarity, cradling her tightly. That clenched it. There was no way she could go to school like this. What Sweetie Belle needed was rest, though that looked a difficult thing with how frightened she was.
For the first time, Rarity understood how terrifying that ordeal must have been. When the fog had rolled in the previous day, she had been working in the Boutique as usual. Figuring that it was just some confusion with the Weather Team, Rarity had opted to stay inside until the problem had been solved. A short while later, the fog was gone. Only when Sweetie Belle came home, quiet and shaken, had she learned what had transpired at school. Still, Sweetie Belle hadn't been hurt and she seemed alright overall. So Rarity had thought the matter settled when she tucked her younger sister into bed. It had never occurred to her that Sweetie had been frightened so badly.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, "I should have paid more attention dear. I'm sorry."
Sweetie Belle said nothing. Instead, she just pressed herself all the more tightly against her sister. Rarity hugged her back, all thoughts of her plans for the day abandoned as she realized that her sister needed her more. However, as Sweetie Belle continued to shiver in Rarity's embrace, Rarity found herself wondering how the other foals were coping.
At Sweet Apple Acres, things were better. The previous evening, Applejack and Red River had returned at a gallop to find Apple Bloom and Spike sitting quietly in the living room of the farmhouse, the two of them playing checkers while Big Macintosh and Granny Smith worked on dinner in the kitchen. Though the attitude was somewhat subdued, Apple Bloom at least appeared to be enjoying herself. There had been no look of reproach when she saw Applejack had returned. Instead, she simply threw herself at her older sister and hugged her tightly, an embrace that Applejack happily returned.
Finally, the two of them relaxed and Applejack got Bloom to talk about her experiences at the schoolhouse. Dinner was a quiet affair, joined by Spike as a way of thanking him for staying with Apple Bloom throughout the afternoon. That night, Bloom slept with Applejack in her bed, the two sisters curled up together.
The morning light, streaming in through the window, was what woke Applejack. It was a bit later than she was used to. However, she remained where she was, not wanting to leave Apple Bloom alone at the moment. After the previous day's ordeal, the yellow filly needed every shred of support her older sister could supply. So Applejack did not move, but merely lay still and kept as silent vigil over Apple Bloom as the filly slumbered peacefully, her nightmares kept at bay by Applejack's warm embrace, only stirring at the sound of knocking at the door to Applejack's room.
Apple Bloom's eyes snapped open and she let out a shriek of fright before practically throwing herself against Applejack, who caught her and held her tightly. "It's okay sugarcube," she whispered softly as she gently ran her hoof through Apple Bloom's mane, "It's just Big Macintosh."
"Eeyup," said the large, red stallion as he slowly pushed the door open. Having spent nearly her entire life sharing the house with her brother, Applejack knew the tone of his knock by heart. Big Macintosh stepped into the room, his expression falling as he saw Apple Bloom quaking in Applejack's arms. A look of regret passed across his face before he schooled it back to its normal stoicism. "Ah came to tell y'all breakfast's ready. Spike and Red are already waitin' on ya."
"Thanks," said Applejack, giving her brother a smile. She turned her attention back to Apple Bloom, who was starting to calm down. "Come on sugarcube, let's get cleaned up and get us some grub."
"'Kay," said Apple Bloom dully, hopping down from the bed and heading towards the bathroom, Applejack following behind her. After taking care of their usual morning rituals, the two girls proceeded downstairs to join the boys in the kitchen. Spike, Big Macintosh, Red River, and Granny Smith were already seated and waiting, with steaming bowls of apple-cinnamon oatmeal set out for breakfast.
""Bout time y'all got down here," said Granny Smith with a chortle, "The best thing after a rough night is a good breakfast."
As the yellow filly took her seat next to the young dragon, Spike raised a gentle claw and rested it against Apple Bloom's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. Rather than allow Spike to walk back to the library through the dark, Applejack and Big Macintosh had Spike spend the night in the house. While Spike was more than confident that he wasn't in danger walking back to the library, a trip he'd made on many occasions during the day and night, he'd accepted, mostly because he wanted to make sure that Apple Bloom was feeling better before he left.
Apple Bloom smiled at the contact. "Yeah, thanks Spike." She turned and gently nuzzled the dragon's cheek. Applejack raised a hoof to her mouth to stifle an affectionate giggle. But enough noise escaped to remind the two young ones that they had an audience, prompting vivid blushes from both of them as they quickly jumped away from each other. This triggered a small avalanche of mirth from the watching adults as they enjoyed a bit of humor at Spike and Bloom's expense, though it was good-natured. Apple Bloom and Spike exchanged a tentative look before smiles broke across their faces and they started laughing too.
Scootaloo woke to the soft sizzle of eggs as her mother made breakfast (Or was it brunch?) in the kitchen. Getting up, she carefully stepped down from the couch and onto the floor, wobbling a little as she did so. Guess I overdid it, she thought as she carefully began the walk from the living room to the kitchen.
"Feeling better?" asked Melon Cream as she folded over the omelet and slid it onto the plate. The scent rising from it made Scootaloo's stomach growl. It was her favorite, asparagus, mushrooms, and cheese. The orange filly excitedly took her place at the table as her mother set the omelet and a glass of juice in front of her. Habitually, Scootaloo reached for for the ketchup bottle and quickly squirted a liberal dose of the red condiment onto the set eggs...
Crimson fluid arced out of the incision in Willow's neck...
The ketchup bottle tumbled out of Scootaloo's hoof, bouncing off the table before dropping all the way to the floor. Melon saw Scootaloo blanch beneath her coat. A second later, the filly gagged and covered her mouth, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to envelop her. Her first impulse was to bolt for the bathroom as fast as her hooves could carry her. As she swayed in her seat, Melon rushed over and quickly steadied her daughter.
After a few moments, Scootaloo managed to get her riotous stomach to calm itself. Panting for breath, she looked at the omelet, unevenly spattered with ketchup. The sight of that red on the pristine yellow of the omelet nearly made her retch again.
"It's alright," said Melon, gently rubbing Scootaloo's shoulders, "It's just ketchup. There's nothing wrong. Close your eyes and smell it."
Scootaloo nodded automatically and closed her eyes, sniffing at the food in front of her. Her nose was not invaded by the coppery scent of blood as it had been yesterday. There was nothing in front of her but eggs and ketchup. The familiar scent of her favorite breakfast began to quell the unease in her stomach and Scootaloo cautiously opened her eyes.
The ketchup was still there. It was still red, of course. However, Scootaloo managed to divorce the sight of its color from the other red substance that was on her mind at the moment. She inhaled again, letting the familiar scents of cheese, asparagus, and mushrooms invade her nose, settling her treasonous digestive track down. Picking up her fork and knife, she tentatively cut into the omelet and popped a piece of it into her mouth, ketchup and all. A blissful sigh escaped her as she enjoyed the familiar flavors washing the last of her nausea away.
"That's it," said Melon, smiling encouragingly at her daughter.
"Thanks mom," said Scootaloo, smiling happily. Her appetite returning, she pounced on the remainder of the omelet and devoured it with a gusto before downing the glass of juice. Breakfast done, she slumped back against her chair and looked up at her mother. "Now what?"
Melon turned and eyed the clock. "It's a bit late for you to go to school. So I suppose you'll have to stay here for today," she said, "I still have to go to work though. Will you be alright by yourself."
Scootaloo nodded uncertainly. "I think so."
Melon hesitated. Having seen the state her daughter was in, she was loathe to leave Scootaloo by herself, in spite of the fact that she seemed to have improved. Maybe I should take the day off to look after her.
As she thought that, Melon heard somepony knocking at the front door. She quickly trotted over to check. Upon opening it, she was surprised to see a familiar ebony colt standing there. "Dawn!"
"Hello Miss Cream," said Dawn softly, "Is Scootaloo alright?"
Melon nodded and smiled as a thought occurred to her. "She's just inside. Would you be willing to spend the day with her? She seems alright now, but she worked herself into exhaustion earlier. I was afraid I'd have to give up going to work for today." Mayor Mare was perhaps one of the most understanding and generous employers that Melon Cream had worked for. However, the last thing she wanted to do was take advantage of that kindness if she didn't have to. Besides, now that her income was no longer supplemented by her husband's, she had to be extra careful to ensure that she made enough to support both herself and Scootaloo.
Dawn nodded in response to Melon's question and stepped inside. As he did, he noticed Scootaloo coming out of the kitchen. When she saw him, her eyes widened slightly and a small smile spread across her face. She looked relieved to see him. The colt braced himself, half-expecting her to tackle him to the ground, as she sometimes did when she was happy to see him. However, Scootaloo remained where she was.
"Hey," she said softly.
Dawn kept his expression neutral as he examined her. There was no sign of the orange filly's usual energetic playfulness. Instead, it seemed to have been replaced by a weariness that had seeped into her bones. Dawn could also see the hesitance in her steps, the slight sag to her eyelids, which indicated that she was still quite tired. Seeing her like this made it easy for him to understand Melon's concern.
He turned to Melon. "I'll stay with her."
Melon nodded and turned to give Scootaloo a kiss on the forehead. "I'm going to work now dear."
"Okay mom."
Melon departed, leaving Scootaloo and Dawn alone. For a moment, the two foals stood there awkwardly as they tried to figure out what to do next. "So now what?" asked Scootaloo.
Dawn frowned. "It seems as though you've already worked quite hard this morning."
"Yeah," agreed Scootaloo, "Just going through the form was helping me feel better so...I kinda overdid it a little bit."
Once again, Dawn noted her shaky legs. "Perhaps you should rest a little more."
Scootaloo nodded and went over to climb up onto the couch. After a moment's hesitation, Dawn joined her, struggling to remain relaxed as Scootaloo leaned up against him. He hesitated again, but slowly extended his wing and draped it over Scootaloo's back as she leaned her head up against his shoulder. The filly couldn't stop herself from releasing a happy sigh.
"What do you want to do when you wake up?" asked Dawn.
"I don't know," said Scootaloo wearily. After thinking for a moment, she said, "Maybe we should check up on the others." As frightening as yesterday's ordeal had been, Scootaloo had had the advantage of being able to remain close to Dawn. Even though she had been there when Willow died, she'd been able to use the things she'd been taught to mitigate the effects of the trauma, however tiring it may have been. Her other friends had no such advantages. She hoped that they were doing alright.
"Then that's what we'll do," said Dawn.
Scootaloo nodded and let her head droop, her fatigue mixing with a full stomach to lull her to sleep once again as she relaxed in Dawn's presence, comforted by the feeling of his wing resting over her. As she drifted off, Dawn didn't move, maintaining his silent vigil over the filly as she rested.
When Scootaloo awakened, lunchtime had passed and it was now early afternoon. Still full from her late breakfast, she saw no need for anything. Dawn claimed he wasn't hungry either. The two of them set out to visit their friends and find out how everypony from their class was coping with the stress of yesterday's events. The first place they checked was Carousel Boutique, where Rarity had been looking after Sweetie Belle.
Upon arrival, they were surprised to find Sweetie asleep on Rarity's fainting couch in the workroom, while Rarity worked on her designs. In spite of the near constant buzz of the sowing machine, the shift of fabrics against their respective ponyquins, the clatter of the many implements at work, Sweetie didn't stir.
"Oh, hello dears," said Rarity as Dawn and Scootaloo entered. She cast an uncertain glance back at Sweetie Belle. "I'm afraid Sweetie has had a rather rough night of it. I'm not certain that she'll feel up to any crusading right now."
"Um...We don't exactly feel up to it either," said Scootaloo, "We just wanted to make sure that Sweetie Belle's alright."
Rarity sighed. "She is...or she will be...I hope. However, she was a bundle of nerves all night and barely got any sleep."
"I know that feeling," muttered Scootaloo, reminded of how little sleep she had gotten.
A soft sound of movement drew Rarity's attention back to Sweetie Belle. The temporary cessation of Rarity's work, and the noise it created, was beginning to wake her up. With a soft yawn, Sweetie lifted her head and looked over at Rarity. The alabaster mare found herself smiling at her younger sister, who looked much more well-rested now that she'd had the opportunity to sleep some more. Ironically, Sweetie Belle found the sounds of Rarity at work infinitely more soothing than complete peace and quiet. Simply being in the workroom with her sister made her feel much better, even if the only thing Sweetie ended up doing was sleeping.
"Sweetie," said Rarity softly, "Your friends are here to check on you."
"Oh," said Sweetie softly before she turned her attention to Scootaloo and Dawn, "Hey guys. What's up?"
"Not a whole lot," admitted Scootaloo, "Dawn and I just wanted to check up on everypony. How are you feeling?"
"Alright," said Sweetie Belle as she hopped off the couch.
"If that's the case, why don't you join them dear," said Rarity with a smile, "I'm sure some time outside with your friends would do you a world of good."
Sweetie Belle nodded eagerly. With a smile and a happy hum, she trotted towards the door, going past Dawn and Scootaloo, who smiled at each other and followed behind her.
"Try not to stay out too late," Rarity called after them, "Sweetie Belle, I want you back in time for dinner."
"Okay," shouted Sweetie over her shoulder.
The three foals left the building. Once they were outside, Sweetie Belle took a deep breath, letting out a relieved sigh, before she turned to look at her friends. Dawn noted that her previously cheerful expression had looked rather forced. Now, however, though she was still smiling, her smile had a slightly sadder quality to it.
"Sweetie Belle?" asked Scootaloo, picking up on the change in the white-filly's attitude, "Are you really okay?"
Sweetie looked down. "Not really," she admitted, "I'll tell you, but let's find Apple Bloom and Rumble first."
The other two exchanged uncertain looks before falling in behind Sweetie Belle. From the Boutique, it was only a short walk to the house Rumble shared with his brother, though Cloud Chaser and Flitter had also taken up residence there recently. Surprisingly enough, Thunderlane had opted for a ground house, a rare decision considering that he, his brother, his fillyfriend, and her sister were all pegasi, meaning that none of them really had any particular reason to need a ground house when they could all share the cloud dwellings that were typically preferred by pegasi.
On the other hoof, that made visiting the place to see Rumble quite easy. Upon Dawn's careful knock, the door opened slowly and Flitter poked her head out to see what was going on. "Oh hello," she said, when she noticed the assembled foals, "Are you here to see Rumble?"
They nodded. "Is he feeling okay?" asked Sweetie Belle nervously.
Flitter opened the door all the way, casting a sad look back over her shoulder before she stepped out to address them. "Um...he's feeling alright now," said Flitter softly, "But he had a difficult night. I'm not sure he wants to talk about it."
"Hey Flitter," a voice called from inside, "Who's at the door?" Looking past Flitter, Dawn's eyes picked up the white, spiky mane of her sister.
"It's Rumble's friends," said Flitter as she looked back to her sister.
"Cool," said Cloud Chaser, grinning, "I'll go get Rumble."
"Wait!" called Flitter, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," replied Cloud Chaser, already on her way back into the house, "Rumble could use some friends right now."
"Um..."
After a few tense moments, Flitter stepped aside and the small, dark-gray form of Rumble stepped out into the sun, flinching as he met the scrutiny of his friends. Rumble didn't look like he'd lost a lot of sleep. His eyes were clear, with no bags underneath them. His coat, mane, and tail were all well-tended, indicating that, even if he hadn't slept well, he'd at least gotten a comprehensive grooming sometime earlier. All in all, Rumble didn't look too bad.
And yet, there was a reluctance in his movements, a hesitance that made it seem like he was fighting to take each step forward. His eyes roamed, taking in everything around him, everything, as long as it didn't mean meeting the eyes of the other foals.
"Rumble?" asked Sweetie Belle cautiously, "Are you okay?" She took a step closer to the colt, who answered with an involuntary step backwards.
"Well..." Rumble flinched as Sweetie Belle came closer still, averting his gaze. Sweetie, very gently, nuzzled his cheek, prompting a blush from the colt, though he still kept his eyes averted.
"We can all talk about it later," said Scootaloo decisively, ignoring an amused tittering from Flitter and Cloud Chaser as they watched Rumble and Sweetie interact, "Let's go find Apple Bloom."
They bade farewell to Cloud Chaser and Flitter, who watched and waved as Rumble followed the others in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres.
Initially, the trip went rather slowly. Scootaloo, in particular, was unused to walking to anyplace that might have been a considerable distance away. Ever since she'd learned to fly from Dawn, she'd been relying less and less on her trademark scooter to get around, to the point where it mostly lay off to one side in her bedroom, slowly accumulating a layer of dust from disuse. Her muscles were still sore from the heavy exercise she'd been through earlier in the morning. The short walks to the Carousel Boutique and Rumble's house had been easy enough for her, though her legs felt stiff and achy. But as she trudged along with her friends, the fatigue from earlier began to tell and Scootaloo found herself having a harder and harder time walking.
Finally, just as she thought her legs were about to give out, she felt a rising wind beneath her lift her up from the ground. Scootaloo let out a yelp, which was quickly cut off as she settled gently onto Dawn's back.
"D-Dawn!" The orange filly blushed furiously as both Sweetie Belle and Rumble stared at them.
"You worked yourself too hard this morning," said the ebony colt matter-of-factly, "Rest a little more."
"I don't feel tired," Scootaloo protested.
"Even though you slept, it doesn't mean your muscles have fully recovered from your overexertion this morning," replied Dawn, "Just relax for now."
With an angry sigh, Scootaloo lowered her head and let it rest on Dawn's withers, her huff of breath stirring strands of the colt's silvery mane and prompting a giggle from Sweetie Belle and an amused smile from Rumble.
Dawn paused mid-step and turned to look at the other two. "Do you think you can manage the load of another pony?" he asked Rumble.
Rumble looked nervously at Sweetie Belle, who looked back, their eyes meeting for the first time. The two of them blushed as they realized what Dawn was suggesting. However, Rumble took a moment to think Dawn's idea seriously. He was faster, which meant that, for general flying purposes, Rumble had more wingpower than Dawn overall. Taking another glance at Sweetie Belle, Rumble found himself thinking that it might be within the realm of possibility.
"I-I guess so," he said.
"I-If you think so," said Sweetie, smiling and blushing, "Then I g-guess it's okay."
Hesitantly and carefully, she climbed onto Rumble's back as the colt crouched to let her on. Both of them blushed furiously as Sweetie settled herself between Rumble's wings and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Once Sweetie Belle seemed secure, Rumble looked over at Dawn, who nodded in confirmation. The two of them spread their wings, Dawn's hooves already beginning to leave the ground, and took to the air.
Scootaloo found Dawn's takeoff to be surprisingly smooth and gradual, which was a change from the last time she'd ridden on his back. It was clear that he was being careful not to jostle her, mindful of the fact that her tired muscles wouldn't allow her to grip him as securely as she was used to.
Rumble, on the other hoof, quickly encountered trouble as he beat his wings. Unused to the burden of a whole other pony riding on his back, he'd barely managed to lift of the ground with the initial flap of his wings, having failed to think about compensating for Sweetie Belle's weight. Realizing that made him break into a furious flurry of flapping wings as he fought to gain lift, unaccustomed to working so hard at merely getting of the ground. To make matters worse, as he did so, Sweetie Belle's body shifted, threatening to throw off his balance, causing Rumble to tilt alarmingly.
Sweetie Belle let out a frightened shriek and tightened her hold around Rumble's neck...which didn't exactly do him any favors. For a moment, as he struggled to breathe around the white filly's chokehold on him, Rumble was afraid the two of them were going to crash.
However, he suddenly felt an updraft rise up on one side of him, the surge of upward moving air passing alongside him and nudging him gently back into balance. For a moment, Rumble was able to return his focus to keeping both him and Sweetie Belle airborne. Daring to look back, he saw Dawn had looped around and was now following behind him, using carefully timed and aimed surges of air to help steady the other colt and help him find his balance. Rumble smiled in gratitude and focused on getting back under control. Before too long, the four foals were on their way.
Spitfire's eyes moved back and forth as she traced the words of the letter for what must have been the tenth time. She didn't want to believe what she was reading. However, she knew that Dawn would have no reason to lie about something like this. There was always the possibility that this Willow mare had lied to Dawn, as an assassin was under no obligation to tell him the truth.
The yellow mare gently chewed the inside of her lip as she mulled the problem over. Setting the paper down with a sigh, she glanced up at Ouranos, who continued to rest on his perch. One of the phoenix's coverts had popped off and burst into flame before transforming into a letter from Soarin'. The last thing Spitfire had expected was an emergency missive from a Wonderbolt on leave. The message contained the details of the assassin's attempt on Dawn's life, a fairly standard report. Given that the situation had been more or less resolved, Spitfire suspected that Soarin' had originally intended to send it through their more mundane channels. However, an additional report had been added, with information from Dawn that sent a chill down Spitfire's spine. If this is true...
She set the letter down and stared pensively at the door to her office. This was a serious matter. The main issue was that she couldn't act off secondhoof information from a now-dead assiassin. If she wanted evidence, she would have to investigate on her own end.
The door opened and Rapidfire came trotting through. "What's up Captain?" he asked, "You need something?" Rapidfire was serving as temporary second-in-command until Soarin' got back from leave. Under the circumstances, Spitfire would have preferred to have Soarin' with her now. It wasn't that Rapidfire was incompetent; but, given what she was about to do, she would have liked to have her closest friend and companion after Ouranos to help her out.
"Can you tell me where everypony is?" she asked.
"Well, Soarin's in Ponyville on leave. Misty, Fleetfoot, and Wave Chill are out practicing formation maneuvers. The rest are supervising the dismantling of the remaining artilleryheads.
Spitfire nodded. "Okay. You're coming with me."
"Alright," said Rapidfire nervously as the yellow mare strode out of her office, falling into step behind her, "What are we doing?"
"Conducting an investigation," said Spitfire, her tone becoming ice-cold, "We might have a traitor on our hooves."
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Need to drop the ' from Soarin'
Anyway... back to the chapter.
I cannot help but think that Fleetfoot is the traitor
Somehow, I knew that was a possibility, but didn't want to believe it. The thing is...(I can't remember which Bolt shouted at Dash) it may not even be her!
3681685 I thought it first, too. But thats just because she was mentioned in a earlier story as a Royal Guard how glorify Celestia. So It's still a possibility that Fleetfoot is a member from the asshole club called: "Order of Celestial Light"
But maybe the Author has other plans as well... I like this twist in the Story
They are unexpected but not unwelcome
god, this is awesome.
I will laugh if Soarin turns out to be the mole
Why is Cheeri getting a hangover... I know she's depresed but she isn't Berry or anything.
The traitor is more than likely fleet because she was pissed when they didn't capture all the 'tribalists' for Celestia and since Spitfire is kicking tail next chapter.
No adventure story I complete without a traitor, this'll be interesting
Hooray, another wonderful Christmas present!
I love this story. As much as I can't wait for the end that ties everything together, I don't want to see the end to this story. If you turned this into a published book series, I would be in line buying every copy. I am now dissapointed that I now have to wait until you write more.
Haha, Cheerilee and her hangovers xD
This story...It is awesome! It's got just about everything I want in it! Let me put it to you this way:
In four stories, I've only found two things I didn't like, and both were minor.
Also...
media.tumblr.com/856cd79de6fd8fd938b2d4b28fd04ef3/tumblr_inline_mp09edFXOy1qz4rgp.gif
Omg! Cherileee gets drunk, LOL!
Ah, commercialization. Such a completely stupid, yet completely necessary concept.
Do the other foals, mainly Rumble and Sweetie Belle, and adults, mainly Rarity, Big Mac, and Granny Smith, know that Willow is dead, and if they do, that she killed herself in front of Dawn and Scootaloo? Also, didn't the Cult Solar already know where Dawn lived, since in story two, a member came after him and Fluttershy?
Traitor ho! Wait!
That's bad! 
Move the quotation mark to the end of the sentence.
______________________________
Haven't read that far yet. I want to say it's Fleetfoot. She seems like a Cultish Mole. I'll see what I see though.
A traitor and a WHAT?
I'll be sad if its fleetfoot as I have grown rather found of her in other stories. Ah well... Time to see if my fears are true.
*puts on sunglasses* lets do this ONWARD TO THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!
High Winds gets my vote. My reasoning is sound. So shall it be, that poor pony. I don't see Spitfire being the type to forgive easily.
Of course this story is years old, but it just occurred to me with this chapter: Scootaloo is being trained by Dawn, and Applebloom now has Red River as well as Granny Smith (whom we know is skilled as one of the Pillars) ready to give her support if she needs it...I was thinking it'd be cool if the CMC are being prepped to be Pillars. Currently, there's no one on hand to teach Sweetie Belle, but it wouldn't have been hard to introduce another unicorn into the town--unless Arkenstone stepped up to the job.
I love the world building this has got. Several covert criminal organizations, most of which are concentrated in the nobility, and which may/or may not be directly connected, but all of them targeting both Dawn and Twilight. It's like watching a beautiful dance with all the players being juggled--both protagonist and antagonist. This is really an impressive work and I'm only halfway through it all.
6841323
I find it sad that that doesn't happen. It would've been awesome for all 3 original CMC to be Pillars rather than just Scoots. But they do end up pretty awesome nonetheless.
3686761
That cult member has been in prison in Canterlot since then, so they wouldn't have found out from him.
Whoever think the traitor is, it probably isn't.
7396169
I don't know why, but your comment amused me to no end. Not in a bad way, I promise!
Fleetfoot is a member of the cult isn't she
8671545
That was my thought exactly.
9052211
Well for a pony that has a pickled face jar collection, could you expect anything less?
10435810
Someone's been watching DWK... XD
10717991
You know it!
10725037
Discovered that channel two days ago and I love it
Of course! That's why Fleetfoot was so upset about perfection on a mission from Celestia! She's part of the Cult Solar!
11268158
Did it really take me this long to figure out my first time around? I should have suspected it from our first meeting with her.