Just outside the hustle and bustle of Ponyville is a massive plain of marshy flatland and hill sides. The bumpy terrain is covered in a thin coating of waist-high grass which tickles and rubs against anypony’s legs when walking through it. In this little serine paradise, the world seems to go quiet. The shouts of ponies heading to work, or the standard loud noises a city has to offer, are drowned out by distant bird calls and the cool whizzing of air running by your ears.
One would expect a place such as this to be relatively crowded, ponies basking in the refreshing sunlight, or exploring the beautiful countysides, taking in the warm breeze, but they would be wrong. This place is most often left empty, a secluded area of land not affected by modern day life. A place not stricken by concrete or towering structures, because here, everything remains natural, prosperous, and peaceful.
The overwhelming stillness of the marshlands is suddenly cut short by the echoing sound of hoofsteps in the distance. Cresting over one of the hill sides, like a rising sun, is a small orange filly. Her purple eyes scanning over the fauna that presented itself in its full glory. The filly’s legs began to grow weak after the long walk here, so she sat back on the soft grass.
She let out a long, gloomy sigh, nestling her back into the forest of flowers that surrounded her, trying to close her eyes in this natural bed, but stress and sadness had already took hold in her brain, making sleep impossible. She tossed and turned, all to no avail, the hurtful words of the school bullies rang through her head like a bell.
“Handicap!” they would yell, “A pegusus pony who cant fly? How pathetic!”
The filly clenched her teeth, the stinging of tears welling in her eyes and a painful lump in her throat. The feelings inside could be held in no longer, and she began to cry. There was no screaming or moaning, no painful shrieks of grief, only quiet, nearly inaudible sobs. Her face grew more and more red as time passed, the pain in her heart only growing stronger, driven by her depression.
“I-it’s not fair, it’s just not fair.”
Her crying was cut short by the calling of her name in the distance, “Scootaloo! Scootaloo, where are you!”
She only sunk her head further into grass, not responding. The flapping of wings grew stronger as a grey colt hovered just above a distraught Scootaloo.
“There you are,” he said, looking down on her with worry. He slowly lowered himself by her side. “Are you ok? I was worried you had run farther than this.”
Scootaloo peeked through the thick grass at the colt who sat beside her. She was so out of it, she hadn’t noticed it was her friend, Rumble, till just now.
She jumped from her laying position, sitting upright, wiping the tears from her cheeks in a poor attempt to hide them. “O-oh, h-hey Rumble,” she stuttered, “I was just…just, enjoying scenery.” She put on a fake smile, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
Rumble shook his head, “come on Scootaloo, don’t hide what’s happening from me. I want to help you.”
Scootaloo’s fake grin began to falter, and her lip; quivering. “Oh who am I kidding,” she pouted, the tears returning, “I can’t take it anymore! The bullying, stupid Diamond Tiara and my stupid wings! I’m a flightless pegasus for Pete sakes!”
Scootaloo’s sobs came back in full affect, and Rumble found himself at a loss for words. But suddenly, a wonderful idea took place in his mind. “Scootaloo,” he said, “I don’t care what anypony thinks of you, but today… you’re gonna fly!”
She looked up from her hoofs, eyes red and bloodshot. “What do you mean?” she asked, sniffling.
“You heard me,” Rumble replied, a look of confidence plastered on his face, “today you’re gonna fly!”
Scootaloo gave him a smirk, “Thanks Rumble, but I don’t know how that’s gonna happen. I’m just… I’m just a chicken.”
“You see,” Rumble shouted, “stop thinking like that, if you get yourself down, you’re letting Diamond Tiara win. You gotta think big, think strong!”
Scootaloo felt a surge of determination course through her body, and her sadness was replaced with a goal; a goal to fly! She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood upright once more. “Let’s do it!” she shouted.
Rumble gave her a nod, still feeling just as confident in her as before. He flapped his wings, soaring just a few feet above the ground from Scootaloo. “Ok,” he said, “The first step to flying is to not think too hard about it. Just let it happen naturally.”
“Got it,” she said, growing more and more excited.
“Now,” Rumble continued, “take a deep breath, and just imagine yourself hovering above the clouds. Feel the wind running against your wings and the smell of fresh air.”
Scootaloo closed her eyes, the images of success running through her subconscious. “Ok,” she said, “I’m doing it.”
“Good,” Rumble applauded, “You mastered the first step; Believing!”
Scootaloo giggled at this, but still had full confidence in Rumble’s methods. His simple speech of motivation made her feel so much better inside.
“Alright, now for the finale!” shouted Rumble, “Put all your energy and strength into your wings and mind, then start flapping. Don’t think about how hard or fast you should flap your wings, just do it naturally.”
Scootaloo nodded, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and flapped her wings. She execrated all she had into this, pushing as much strength as possible. With grunts, heaves, and moans, her hoofs left the ground, just barely hovering over the grass below.
“You’re doing it!” Rumble chanted, “You got this Scootaloo, you got this!”
Her face grew more red, sweat dripping down her forehead, wracked in exhaustion. Rumble continued to motivate her, calling her name, cheering her on, but it was no use. With a final burst of air, Scootaloo fell to the floor below.
“Ugh, it’s pointless!” she shouted, “I’ll never fly!” she tried to hold back the tears from returning as she lay in the grass once more.
Rumble rested a hoof on his chin. There was no way he was giving up on her now, and she had gotten too close to just stop. He lowered himself back to the ground and two pairs of purple eyes met with one another.
Rumble stretched out a single hoof, a warm smile etched across his face. “Let me help you,” he said.
A bit bewildered, Scootaloo grabbed his hoof, pulling herself back up, letting the stress, anger, and sorrow pour out of her system like paint. Looking into Rumbles eyes was equivalent to the softest, most genuine embrace a pony could ask for.
Without even being told, Scootaloo rested her hoofs in his, as if her body yearned for his comfort. She blushed lightly, but her expression still looked to be in shock. Rumble leaned his head in closer, his forehead resting against hers. “You’re gonna fly,” he said in a calm whisper.
Rumble placed his arms beneath Scootaloo’s, holding her tightly against him, all the while she continued to stare at him in amazement. With a deep breath of air and a flutter of his wings, Rumble slowly and gradually lifted himself and Scootaloo off the ground, still keeping close to her in their never-ending hug.
Scootaloo looked down, watching as the marshy hills and grasslands grew further and further in distance, the two soaring higher into the bright blue sky above. Rumble grunted; the weight of the filly was much more than he had expected.
Scootaloo noticed his tiredness, and fluttered her wings as well, lightning the heavy load and cancelling out the weight of gravity. He let out a sigh of relief, and before long, the two hovered above the clouds.
A heavy silence emanated from the two, still not breaking the stare that they had forged. Rumble finally spoke, “you see?” he said, “I told you you’d fly.”
Scootaloo turned red and she grinned, a soft and sweet grin, a grin that proved loyalty and friendship… or something more than that. A grin of love.
The warm setting sun beamed beside them, and cool air gave them comfort. Scootaloo slowly leaned in, nuzzling Rumble on the nose. “Thank you,” she said quietly through tears of compassion. And with that, she placed her lips against his, closing her eyes and taking in the moment.
Rumble was taken aback, his eyes widening, his heart racing. He was certainly not expecting that. But his shock slowly turned to acceptance and acknowledgment, and he kissed her back. The two sharing a true gift not all ponies could experience. A gift of love, high above the clouds.
Author's Note
Yes, I know I have two stories left unfinished, but I HAD to write a Rumbleloo story. It's such a great shipping and I don't think we see enough of it. :)
