Iron Stark, a name feared by recruits and veteran alike. On the western border of Equesrtia he had spent the past eleven years carving apart enemy forts and encampments. Taking wounds and taking more before the previous ones even began to heal, leaving him marred and scarred. Now, he stood just a stone's throw away from his old home. A normal sized home, pale yellow paint slowly chipping off, the green door tightly sealed closed.
He had expected a parade, cheering voice and cries of joy. Nay, he only got a few odd looks from the people who lived on the way to his house. A pair of colts took notice of the markings on his bag, but didn't seem to be brave enough to ask him about them. He pulled a tiny silver key from his chest pocket, shining in sun as he stepped forward. He pushed into the hole without effort and turned, a healthy clicking sounding as he did so.
He sighed and pushed open the door, the smell of coffee filling his chest. He stepped into the house, dropping his bag and drawing his dagger, this house should smell of dust and mold not coffee and... oil.
Iron kicked his bag forward and slowly closed the door, never moving his eyes from the kitchen door. He stepped lightly, gliding over the dustless floor and towards the door. His dagger was held back and hidden behind him, but ready to strike if needed. He peered around the door's frame, spying nothing out of place. Except a single coffee pot, a can of coffee sitting next to hit.
Iron picked the pot up, smelling it and being pleased with it's mixture, but pressed with it's coldness. He turned to the sink, and dumped it. Returning to his bag, he passed through the kitchen and then through the living room, filled with random tools and a few rags, covered in oil. Iron ignored all of them and marched up the stairs. He opened the door to his old room, dropping his bag a second time.
The room was covered on all walls with posters of sports cars, jet fighters, and a few groups Iron assumed were bands. But what struck him most was the dresser, it was the same oak dresser that had sat there for decades, but it was covered in pictures. Stepping closer to get a better look, he picked one of them up. Dominating the picture was a tall girl, her eyes were closed and her purple hair was singed black in certain parts. On her left was a girl with light amber eyes and fire red air, her smile was goofy and she looked happy for her friend. The third figure in the photo was yet another girl, pink and light purple hair with pale green eyes and she too had a goofy smile, but filled with more pride.
Iron put the picture back down, glancing at the rest of them, some of them missing the red head, other missing the mix haired girl, but all had the purple haired one except one. That held the pair in the first. Groaning, Iron pulled open the top draw. His eyes flashed with something he had rather not seen, ever. Closing it much quicker than he had expect he backed up, luckily not knocking over any of the photos. Iron walked over to the messy bed, sitting down and groaning. He laid there for a few minutes, mulling over his thoughts.
Getting to his feet and grabbing his wallet as he did so, he decided he needed familiar faces and he definitely needed to eat. Nearly jogging down the stairs and exiting the house, leaving it behind as he made his way to town square, the town market would be in full swing by now.
Iron stepped into the sun of midday, the sky was clear and the breeze was soft and flowing just as it had all those long years ago. A quick glance around market filled him with nostalgia, he saw heads of pink, pale blue, and cream. Smiles and eyes he had seen on foals on their way to school, mares and stallions who were not even old enough to know what war meant now filled the stalls and chatted up their clients, where their parents had once stood years back.
He spied a stallion standing near an apple cart, his features soft and lazy, but Iron knew better than to assume he was anything like that. His green eyes were stealing glances from a mare someways away, but that wasn't what concerned him about the stallion. It was the young filly standing next to him, lazily chatting with another child. She was the one from the pictures.
Iron began to make his way over to the stallion, before he got there the girl ran off with her friend, he didn't care, he needed to speak to something familiar.
"Little McIntosh Red..." His voice was crisp, cutting though the crowd and reaching the stallion in question. He turned to face the voice, his features a mix of irritation and confusion. Upon laying eyes on Iron, he froze. Iron walked up to him, not even an arm's length away from him. Before Iron could react, he was grabbed.
"Uncle Iron!" McIntosh's voice was deep and hardy, as was his hug. Iron was easily winded by the much bigger stallion, but he was able to return the hug.
"Aye! By the princess, you certainly grew to meet the challenge of apple farming!" Replied Iron as he pulled away, looking McIntosh over.
"Eeyop, been running the farm nearly on my own for 'bout ten years now." Iron's face went pale, ten years?
"Mac... Where is your mother? Where is Blossom?" Asked Iron as he grabbed McIntosh, shaking him as he asked.
"Uncle... She's been gone for ten years, I thought you knew that?" Asked Mac as he grabbed Iron's hand. Iron slowly let go, backing up slowly.
"No." Was all he managed to say before he began to pace. Mac glanced around the market, becoming aware of the scene he and Iron were creating.
"Uncle, come on. Let's get you back to mah place and we can set this straight. Help me pack up." Iron only nodded in acknowledgement, turning to face Mac and help him with packing up his Cart, something he had done years back with McIntosh Red and Jack Blossom.
The walk back to the farm was silent. Iron only took measured glances around as he walked, mindful not to bump into anything new in the road or anyone. When they finally did reach the homestead, Iron once again was filled with nostalgia, he remembered nearly every trip he had made to Sweet Apple Acres, delivering saw blades, plows, fixed barrels, and a wide range of tools that he either fixed or made himself.
He remembered how he would walk down the road and spy the farm house Granny would always be sitting in her favourite chair, Applejack would be in her arms while she read to her, Red would be just loading up the last of the afternoon haul of apples, Jack would usually be cleaning off mud and complaining about the odd smell that was now on her clothes, and McIntosh would no was been coming back from his club house, covered in more mud and tree sap than his mother.
Now, Granny sat on her chair, asleep but still there. The fields looked health as ever, Applejack was the one bringing the last haul, and the girl from the stall was running from the clubhouse, covered in much less mud and even less sap. Iron held the strongbox for Mac while he pushed the cart along the road beside him, keeping up pace easily.
"Well looky here, I'll be taking that from ya now." Said Apple jack as she extended her arms, handkerchief in one of her hands. Iron gladly passed her the box, noticing Applejack not even slowing to say hi before she was walking into the barn.
"Granny, guess who's here?" Asked Mac as he pushed the in front of the farmhouse kitchen window, wiping away a bead of sweat that had formed on his brow. Granny Smith stopped rocking and turned to face her grandson, eye not even opening.
"That young hunk Eastwood?" Asked Granny as she got to her feet, cranking her neck and yawning as she did so.
"Almost." Granny froze and shot a look at both of the stallions, eyeing Iron the most.
"I'll be! Iron! Haven't seen your hide in years!" Laughed Granny Smith as she ran down the stairs and grabbed Iron into a hug, pulling him tight. Iron gladly returned the gesture.
"You old bird. You crying?" Asked Iron as he wiped a tear from her eye.
"Why wouldn't I? Mac, get your sisters in here! We got stuff to talk about!" Barked Granny as she pushed Iron up the stairs and into the house, leaving Mac to his task of rounding up the pair.
Iron sat at the end of the table, his back to Granny Smith who was currently working her magic in the kitchen. There was already a pot of mashed potato on the table and she had said that the steamed peas were nearly done, but the smell that entranced Iron was the smell of Steak and spices.
The girl was the first to come into the Kitchen and sit down, eyeing Iron oddly. Next was Mac who sat on the opposite end of the table, a trio of large mugs in hand, sliding one down to Iron. He then got to his feet and walked out, returning a minute later with a keg of what Iron assumed was Cider, hard or otherwise. By the time Applejack joined them, the steak was down and they were ready to begin eating.
Granny had grabbed her own mug and poured herself a cup, waiting for Applejack to sit before beginning to speak. But Applejack didn't sit down, only stood in the door way, eyeing Iron coldly.
"You're in mah seat mister." Spoke Applejack coldly, her voice laced with ice. Granny just huffed and pointed to the seat next to Apple Bloom.
"Sit your behind down already, foods getting cold." Barked Granny, Applejack finally listening to her and sitting down beside her sister, grumpy.
"Alright, now that everyone's here. Uncle Iron, would you like to say grace?" Asked Mac as he clasped his hands together. Applejack and Apple Bloom both looked to Iron, eyes wide and filled with confusion. Iron nodded, copying Mac's motion and bowing his head.
"Holy Spirits, we thank you. We thank you for long summers, good friends, and a strong family who have survived the hardest of life's struggles. We give thanks to you for this food, for the strength to farm it. I thank you, for the strength to defend our home for all these years, for the blessing of life and courage to survive for so long, to be finally able to return home after so many years, for the people we wish to see one day." The rest of the family copied Iron's final words. A moment of silence passed before either of the girls spoke, Applejack was the first.
"Uncle Iron?" Asked Applejack as she looked into her mug, suddenly finding it very interesting.
"Yes Applejack?" Asked Iron in return, he was already carving up his steak. Applejack paused for a moment before continuing speaking.
"How come we never heard of you before?" Iron also paused for a moment, trying to find an answer.
"Honestly dear? I have no clue. I was always close to your father, he and I grew up together. I was there when you were born." Replied Iron as he picked up a piece of his steak with his fork and shoved it into his mouth.
"Where were you all these year anyhow?" Asked Apple Bloom as she took took a bite of her food. Iron laughed and swallowed.
"It's rude to talk with your mouth full." Replied Iron before he took a fork full of potatoes. Applejack quickly stepped in.
"Remember, table manners as the only manner I want you to actually have." Replied Applejack as she took bite of food, talking with her mouth fill of food too. Iron stared at her for a second, his blank expression cutting deep into her. Applejack looked around the table for help, only to find both Mac and Granny Smith ready to burst out laughing. Iron was the first to break the snickering and laugh out loud. Granny and Mac quickly followed.
Laughter thundered in the kitchen as the trio lost their breath, Applejack and Apple Bloom both chuckling lightly, not knowing what was going on. Granny was the first to stop laughing, though not entirely.
"Yer mother said the same thing to Mac years ago, it was just as funny then as is now." With this both Mac and Iron slowly came down from their fits of laughter. They eat in silence for a minute before Iron spoke up.
"To answer your question. 'Bout fifteen years ago a man came rushing into Ponyville, barking the Princess's order. Needed volunteers for the Far Guard, else the Princess had no choice but start conscripting men. Your father I and I joined up. You Applejack were about this big, no bigger than a loaf of bread. Mac was just about nine or so. We fought for a good five years, then your father was granted a year off, no doubt made you Bloom while her was there." Laughed Iron as he took a bite of the steak on his plate.
Granny Smith caughed and took a bite of her food as well, not looking up to face the girls. "Then, when he was only back a week we were attacked. You're father didn't make it. That's why there is that flag there." He pointed to a folded flag behind a pane of glass just above the fireplace. Now you answer my question, what happened to Jack Blossom?" Mac stayed silent, looking to Granny for help.
"Well, she was about 8 months into Apple Bloom here, when she got the new of Red. Her heart could take it, docs say Apple Bloom was lucky to make it." Silence filled the room, even the clanking of the forks on the plates seemed muted.
They finished their meal and retired to their respected rooms, Apple Bloom and Iron stayed in the living room. Bloom sat on the couch, reading up on her homework. Iron sat in Red's chair, staring up at his flag that hung over the fireplace. Iron glanced over to Apple Bloom, her face lopsided and filled with boredom, math equations and laws of physics plastered on the pages.
"Who is she?" Apple Bloom looked up from her text and gave Iron an odd look. "The girl with purple hair, who is she?" Asked Iron a second time.
"Oh, her name's Scootaloo. How do you know her?" Iron nodded, repeating the name in his head a few times before answering.
"I don't, I saw you with her in town. Who are her parents? I'd like to congratulate them on a fine child." Replied Iron as he got to his feet and walking into the kitchen, looking at the now near twilight of the farm.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but Scoots doesn't have any parents, lives on her own in that old house on Hay Walk." Iron drank his tea, not even acknowledging Apple Bloom.
"I'm going home, tell them I said good night." Iron didn't even wait for a moment before walking out the door. The walk was just as on the way in, silents. Except instead of a blank slate trying to form thoughts, Iron's mind was a storm. From places the kid would be to how to his plan would even work.
Iron stepped back into Town Square, his eyes scanning for the girl. He spied her walking with the other girl from the photos, no doubt heading to her place. Making a right, he headed for town hall. The doors to the hall was the same as they were fifteen years ago, solid oak and no doubt still reinforced by Tinker Storm's magic.
Iron walked into the hall, head held high and on a mission. He looked left and right, quickly walking down a hall leading to the mayor's office. If all bold right, Justice would still be mayor and he would help him without hesitation. Making his way down the hall and standing in front of the mayor's door, he found a different name adorning it. "Mayor Mare"... Had a ring to it. Iron took a breath and knocked on the door, there was a pause before a voice sounded from the other side.
"Come in." Her voice was smooth and held a form of nobility to it. Iron opened the door and spied a very familiar face.
"Evening Love." That was the last thing Iron remembered. He felt his head pounding, each beat of his heart coursing pain though his head. After what felt like an eternity, it slowly began to dull. Then came the ringing. At first it was nearly silent, but after a while it became piercing. After a time, it too dulled away. In it's place a voice began to file in, bits of it even making words.
"Believe.... Moron.... Back.... Welcome.... Smiles.... Fool.... Get up.... For Celestia's giant plot!" Iron slowly opened his eyes, cracking bit by bit. A face came into view. Her face. But it wasn't professional, it wasn't happy, she was angry.
"Ouch..." Was all he could say. Mare sigh and pulled him to his feet, ushering him into a chair opposite to hers.
"You're lucky it was only second place, if it were first you wouldn't be waking up." Iron looked down at the rubbish bin, a crack trophy inside.
"Lucky me..." Replied Iron, rubbing his head and leaning back into his chair. Mare only shook her head, biting her lip as she did so.
"So why did you decide to come back." Replied Mare as she pulled out parchment and began writing. Iron sat up and tried to peak at she she was writing, only to have her cover it and give him a scolding look.
"I'm retiring from the Guard, and I wanted your help with something." Admitted Iron as he sat back down, massaging the impact area of the trophy.
"And what might that be?" Asked Mare as she doted the end of her sentence a little more violently than necessary.
"First off, stop that. I know your just writing nonsense to get at me, secondly, it involves a girl." Mare put the quill down, leaning back in her chair, unbuttoning her blouse. The room suddenly became very hot.
"Oh? She a cute young mare?" Asked Mare as she kicked her feet up onto her desk. Iron just chuckled and picked the trophy out of the dustbin.
"She's like ten if that's what your asking." Mare's face froze as she sat there, body stiffening at teh mention of the girl's age.
"Uh... Care to explain?" Asked Mare as she unlocked herself and leaned forward in her chair.
"Her name is Scootaloo and I would like to adopt her." Mare puckered her lips and tilted her head, slowly looking away. She leaned back into her chair, kicking her leg back and massaging her temples.
"How and where did you hear that name and more importantly how and where did you learn that she was an orphan?" Asked Mare as she mover her glasses and rubbed her eyes.
"My niece, and yes before you ask I'm more than sure. As for taking care of her, I'm opening back up my old business. Plus whatever I get from the crown from my years of service. You know my old place well I'm sure." Mare looked up at Iron with a mixed expression, promptly dropping her head onto the desk. After a few minutes, Mare replied.
"All too well and you know it. Fine. I assume you found out." Her voice was bored or tired, either work in Iron's opinion.
"And it take it I have you to thank for it." Asked Iron as he forced the two piece of the trophy together, heat generating between them.
"Yes, now I'll just call up Rarity, she should know where she is and have her brought over here. Let me sketch up a form quickly." Replied Mare before reaching for her phone, ignoring whatever Iron was doing with her Gridiron trophy.
Scootaloo parted ways with Rarity and Sweetie Belle, them heading home for some tea and biscuits while she had to talk to Mayor Mare about her parents. Rarity knew about her and her unusual living conditions, but Sweetie didn't. With one last swallow of her fears, she opened the doors to Town Hall and stepped inside.
Links was sitting lazily in her chair, a book in hand and reading glasses on her face. Scootaloo paid her no mind and headed for Mare's office. It wasn't far from the door and desk, but it felt much longer than usual for some reason. Turning to face the door, she didn't bother knocking.
The first thing she noticed was the tall stallion standing in the office, he was easily as tall of Big Mac, if not bigger. The second thing she noticed was Mare's Gridiron trophy, it was all wonky and looked weird. The third was a Mare looking a bit upset.
"Good Evening Scootaloo. There is someone here I would like you too meet." Mare was direct, which wasn't a good sign.
"Hello." Scootaloo answered in thinking it was best to play along when it came to the game adults played.
"Hello yourself. My name is Iron Stark. I'm a soldier." He knelt down and extended a hand. Scootaloo eyed it for a second before taking it.
"Oh, I'm Scootaloo." She kicked herself for repeating what Mare had no doubt told him already.
"Yes, well you see I've been gone a very long time. I once and still do live on Hay Walk, in a yellow house with a white picket fence, you know it?" Asked Iron, hearing this Scootaloo took a step back.
"It's all right dear, right mister Stark?" Asked Mare as she placed a hand on Iron's shoulder.
"Yes, well this is what I'm proposing. You live there, I live there. You need a parent, before people start talking, and I think it would be nice to have a kid. What do you say?" Asked Iron. Scootaloo thought over his offer, sitting down in Mare's seat and dropping her head on the desk.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Honestly? No." Replied Mare as she rubbed Scootaloo's back. She in turn groaned and sat up.
"Why not?"
"Well, you have been without parental care for nearly a year now, and I need to put you with someone and out of all the ponies in Ponyville, Iron is the most qualified." Replied Mare as Scootaloo got to her feet and walked around the desk. She sat down beside Iron, who had taken a seat in his original chair, awaiting her.
"Okay, I guess this can work. I can do this, let's see if you can." Iron only laughed, taking the quill from Mare and filling out a few fields on the freshly pressed forum. Scootaloo then signed her name and Mare took it away, filing it in a nearly empty folder filled with dust.
"Scootaloo, if you sign this you'll be his daughter by law, that mean you get his name took." Explained Mare as she handed Scootaloo a pink forum.
"My names changes to Iron?" Asked Scootaloo as she gave Mare a confused look, both Mare and Iron chuckled at her antics.
"No dear, you change from Scootaloo Yards to Scootaloo Stark. Nothing more." Scootaloo picked up the quill, and stayed silent for a good while, unmoving. After six minutes she signed her name, her new name. Iron sighed deeply, standing to his feet. Scootaloo sat there for a few minutes more.
"Come on Scootaloo, lets go home." She sat there for a moment before getting to her feet and following, uttering only a few parting words.
"Okay daddy..." Mare lean back in her chair, watching as the door closed. She sighed in relief, pulling out a bottle of amber liquid and a single glass, filling it all the way to the top. She rolling the liquid around in her glass, before pulling it back and downing it in one shot. Mare ignored the burn and eyed the documents on her desk, a legal forum signed by Scootaloo agreeing to become the legal child of one Sir Iron Stark, thus become Scootaloo Stark. She sighed and poured herself a second glass, drinking this one more slowly. With one last sigh she put the papers away and stood up, putting away the bottle and picking up the glass, grabbing her coat before leaving her office, it was getting late in the evening and she still needed to eat supper.
Author's Note
First off, keep in mind they look something along the lines of this and this. Secondly, their tech is about late 1800s.
