Happy Hearth's Warming Eve, Scootaloo
“Filliiieees and gentlecolts, welcome to the, uh, four hundredth Mega Ponyville Winter Pole-Licking Championship Derby, and get your mind out of the gutter! Reigning champ, Scootaloo, looks to defend her title against the monstrous Truffle Shuffle! Will she be victorious?!” Sweetie Belle asked, standing on a wooden crate and holding a branch like a microphone. “She had a truly inspiring showing at last week's pay per view, so let's see if she'll capitalize on that momentum!”
“What a great afternoon fer sports fans, Sweetie Belle! Ah reckon the folks spectatorin' are in fer one heck of a show!” Apple Bloom bellowed over the assembled crowd. “And we remind the audience that today's bout is brought to ya by our proud sponsor, Twist's Tasty Treats! 'The sugar will kill me!'”
“Arriving at ground zero first is the champion, widely believed to be the greatest icon of this sport in close to thirty years. Accompanied by her manager, Babs Seed, she understands the dawning challenge presented by the rookie!”
Scootaloo approached the frosty lamppost, having her withers massaged by Babs. Most of the school aged fillies and colts of Ponyville were watching, divided between both participants. A cruel wind blew through the park, washing across the frozen pond and chilling their bones. The voices of the adult ponies drifted along from the Hearth's Warming Eve-inspired craft market a short distance away.
“Take 'em down!” the Manehattanite, Scorecard, encouraged the pudgy Truffle Shuffle, slapping his chest and pointing to Scootaloo as though accusing her of theft.
“Listen, Scoots...” Babs whispered in a low voice, glancing over to her brother, “Scorecard cheats, so expect the challenger to respond likewise, eh?”
“I heard dat!” the light brown colt yelled. “How da heck is my client gonnas cheat? Idiot!”
“They're talkin' smack!” Apple Bloom cried dramatically. “The tension between these two competitors 'n' their managers is reachin' a fever pitch! Preeetty sure Babs is gonna pop her bro in the chops.”
“Lick the freakin' post already! It's cooold!” a few spectators bemoaned.
“Ring the bell, Ref!” Sweetie Belle called out. “Let's get this party started.”
Archer, holding a rock in her mouth, spit it out at a trash can lid. A low aluminium crash signalled the start of the showdown. Scootaloo and Truffle Shuffle looked into each other's eyes, hesitated briefly, then dived forward. Scootaloo's tongue reached the frigid steel first. Huffing, the larger colt joined her on the opposite side.
“You all know the rules of this bout, everypony,” Sweetie Belle reminded them all. “Both Scoots and the rookie must keep their tongues pressed to that frozen, freezing lamppost for thirty seconds before they'll be allowed to pull away. First pony to get free will claim, or retain, the title!”
Alright, Scoots... the orange pegasus mused quietly in her head, trying to ignore the pain of the cold. Keep counting and beat that tubby. Wait, does that make me mean?
“Fifteen, sixteen...” Apple Bloom mumbled, squinting carefully at Scootaloo while Sweetie kept time for Truffle.
The crowd watched on with bated breath as the two opponents began to shiver and shake with the cold. Scootaloo could hear Truffle Shuffle breathing hard through his nose, even though his mouth was wide open. Their eyes met and they both seemed to realize the dire mistake they've made. Apple Bloom shouted her name, telling her the time was up, and Scootaloo pulled.
She went no where.
“'Course, Scootaloo is the champ, so she's done this a million times,” Apple Bloom informed the silent crowd.
“Twice,” Sweetie corrected her smartly.
“Whatev'.”
The pegasus started to pull harder, whining with pain. This was not good. Breathing out as hard as she could, Scootaloo tried to warm up the post filling her with the taste of iron. Tug. Didn't work. On the other side, Truffle Shuffle was having just as bad a time of it.
The fillies and colts watching started to giggle and jeer the foolish ponies who now seemed destined to stay there forever. Unwilling to resign to her fate, Scootaloo started to buzz her wings, pulling with all her might. She would not acknowledge the ripping agony as she risked tearing the tongue in half.
“What a maneuver!” Sweetie Belle roared as Scootaloo jumped, twisting upside down, aided by her wings. There was a noticeable sound of tape being pulled from a shag carpet as she freed herself. “Yes! THE CHAMP DEFENDS!”
“Yaaay!” Scootaloo laughed, sounding like Apple Bloom as her tongue lolled out of her mouth. “Ah dud eet! Ow.”
“Oy... ah well, better luck next time, bub,” Scorecard bemoaned, walking forward and helping Truffle Shuffle pry himself from the frozen steel.
The chattering foals started to disperse, heading back to their families still navigating around the craft market. Apple Bloom, Babs, and Scorecard bid adieu to Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo before running off to find Applejack and Candy Mane, Babs' and Score's mother.
Sweetie Belle turned to Scootaloo, frowning at her. “Didn't Apple Bloom invite you to Sweet Apple Acres? Me and Rarity might be going later. Granny Smith's probably going to make a feast!”
Scootaloo sighed. “She did, yeah, but I'm just going to... you know, head home. I'm not feeling it this Hearth's Warming, I guess?”
“Oh. Well, I see, then,” Sweetie said eventually, noticing Rarity approaching them. “You have a good Hearth's Warming Eve, Scoots.”
“Yeah. You too.”
Sweetie gave her a swift hug and trotted away, waving once she met her sister. The pegasus shivered, adjusted her yellow scarf, and made her solitary way out of the park. Home... Well, the orphanage was the closest thing she's ever had to a home. It was the same thing, right?
She assured herself it wouldn't be too bad. The matron was going to serve some soup, and there would probably be apple tarts and cinnamon muffins. Those are pretty festive, Scootaloo thought. She never really had friends at the orphanage, but she might enjoy the company of the other foals anyway during their own little Hearth's Warming dinner that night and the following day. It was just too depressing to go to Sweet Apple Acres, where everyone was with their families. Scootaloo didn't feel like she really belonged around happy folk.
Before she could make it out of the park, however, something large fell from the sky. It hit the ground like a speeding bullet, landing with a smack right in front of her. By the time her heart migrated back to her chest from her throat, Scootaloo found herself getting her mane ruffled.
“Heya, Squirt!” Rainbow Dash greeted, brushing some snow off her own hindquarters. “That landing sucked, so let's never speak of it, eh?”
Scootaloo giggled. “Oh, suuure! Scout's honour, Dash!” she said with a sly wink.
“Where are you heading, Scoots?” Rainbow pressed on, frowning. “Saw ya walkin' by your lonesome. Why aren't you with your friends?”
“They're, uh, busy... with their families, you know.”
Rainbow Dash seemed to understand. “You'll be heading back to the orphanage, then?”
“Yup…” the filly answered simply, continuing on her way as Rainbow fell into pace beside her. “Nothin' else to do.”
“I see... however, something don't make sense.”
Scootaloo glanced back, eyebrow raised. “Huh?”
“Hearth's Warming Eve is a time for whatever family ya got, Scoots,” Rainbow explained, winking. “So, why didn't you look for your adoptive big sis, huh?”
Scootaloo stared blankly, mouth slightly parted. “I... never thought about that.”
“I figured,” Rainbow Dash said, not unkindly. “I'll forgive ya, kiddo! Now, hop on.”
Scootaloo shrugged and gave a little buzz of her wings as Rainbow bent low on her fetlocks. Leaping upon her, she positioned herself comfortably atop her noble steed. Wrapping her forehooves about Rainbow's throat, she rested neatly between the wing joints of the pony below her.
“Where we goin', Sis?”
“Soarin invited us to his giant mansion. Beats the moldy old orphanage, I think,” she replied promptly, leaping into the air and flapping her wings.
And off they went. Higher and higher into freshly falling, silent shroud of snow floating down from the clouds collecting overhead. Rainbow Dash moved gracefully, majestically. At least, until she took off like a rocket flying at break neck speeds through the stratosphere, anyway.
“Oh my gosh, this place is huge!”
“Yes, Scootaloo, that's like the eighth time now,” Rainbow sighed patiently. “C'mon, Soarin doesn't need a broken couch. Chill out!”
The filly plopped herself onto the couch, rolling her eyes. “Alright. We'll sit here politely and drink tea. Rainbow Dash, he's rich and we're in a giant cloud house and these couches feel like water beds! Why are you so mellow?!”
“I've seen it!” Rainbow said, winking again. “I've been here before.”
Soarin entered the parlour, holding a tray of hors d'oeuvres on his back. Scootaloo started bouncing on her seat cushion, eyes bulging. As a butler had lead them into this room previously, this was the first time Scootaloo had laid eyes upon Soarin that wasn't at an airshow. With a flick of his wings, the Wonderbolt slid it upon an ornately decorated coffee table and took a seat beside Rainbow Dash, smiling benignly at Scootaloo.
“Don't think we've really met, have we, Scootaloo?” he asked, leaning back into the couch and folding his hooves comfortably.
“N-no, sir! We have not,” she said in a slightly higher voice than her usual.
“Glad you could come,” Soarin continued, nodding to Rainbow Dash. “Same to your big sister!”
Rainbow laughed. “Of course you're happy to see me, Soar! Scootaloo's really awesome, though. You should see her on her scooter.”
Scootaloo nearly fainted with glee as Soarin opened his mouth wide, looking impressed. Her heart swelled with warmth at all the attention she certainly never got to enjoy back at her usual home. Barely able to contain her excitement, she immediately rattled on a big explanation of the various tricks she knew and how well she could perform each and every one of them.
Soarin pelted her with genuine compliments and she beamed. Rainbow Dash was smiling broadly, too. They ate some of the hors d'oeuvres. They weren't bad, either; delicious spinach and cheese rolls, and some little lemon lined crisps that melted in the mouth. As the hours stretched on, Soarin started talking about upcoming shows, important work on charity that the Wonderbolts had recently done, and detailed training regimes they made the recruits go through. All of it was for Scootaloo's benefit. His lively interest in speaking with her was so welcoming that she just drank it in.
But the night was no longer young. Her eyes were drooping. Her body was tiring out. A young filly needed a good night's sleep, especially on Hearth's Warming Eve. Rainbow promised her a big day tomorrow, on Hearth’s Warming proper. They would be among friends and have a big snowball war in the apple orchard. Rainbow hadn’t told Scootaloo about the presents the others had gathered, though. Scootaloo still wanted to stay up as long as she could, begging Soarin to tell another story or to show off another spectacular aerobatic move in the high-ceilinged room.
Eventually, her head hit her hooves and she totally conked out, curled up beside Rainbow Dash on the couch. Soarin, who had just finished a twisting descent, landed lightly onto the floor and grinned at Rainbow Dash.
“Thought she'd never fall asleep,” he said in a low voice, exhaling gratefully. “What a workout.”
“Yeah. Not complaining, of course,” Rainbow Dash whispered back, sighing contentedly. “I love watching ya fly.”
“I'm not complaining either! I meant I'm glad she fell asleep so I can finally bring in her gift,” Soarin went on, folding his wings and yawning.
“I know, I know, I'm just teasin' ya.”
Rainbow Dash watched Soarin leave the room and carefully got up off the couch herself. Scootaloo curled up a little tighter, snoozing peacefully, a little bubble of snot popping at her snout to drip into a puddle of drool already collecting on the upholstery. As Rainbow flew over toward the massive tree in the corner by the large window, she reached into a cloud acting as a pillar support for the ceiling and pulled out a handful of presents she had made and wrapped herself, laying them around the tree. An untidy scrawl of 'To Scootaloo, from Sis!’ adorned each of the tags.
Soarin had returned, carrying Scootaloo's big present in his forehooves. Of course, the pair of them hadn't been entirely honest with the filly... Soarin already knew all about Scootaloo's skills on her old scooter, with its rickety wheels, barely staying on, and the scratches from one-too-many spectacular wipe outs around Ponyville. He laid down the brand new, sparkling crimson scooter, with its tough, blue acrylic wheels and handles and sturdy aluminium frame next to Rainbow's gifts. It was pristine; perfect-looking in every way, and even had a giant pink bow tied around the neck.
“Thanks for having us over,” Rainbow Dash whispered, kissing him on the cheek. “And thanks for helping me give Scoots the Hearth's Warming she deserves.”
“S-sure, Dash! The g-guest bedroom should be all ready for you,” Soarin mumbled, slightly red in the face from the peck. “Shall I get Serviette to get you up early so you can wake her up?” he asked, gesturing to the sleeping filly.
“Naw,” Rainbow replied, shaking her head and still beaming. “I'm gonna let Scootaloo get up first.”
