We are not your Mares

by iamjohndoe

Rating: mature
Tags: Scootaloo, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Rainbow Dash
Length: 8201

Three months after Scootaloo's arranged marraige to Boomer, she begins to question whether this is really the happy ending she thought it was.

In a world where ponies practice Princess-ordained polygamy, a young mare and her stallion have a lot to learn about life and love. While Scootaloo was in heat, she was happy. Now, possibly pregnant with Rainboomer's child, she's starting to wonder if this is all there is.

My entry to Ocalhoun's Big 250k Contest, squeezed in 15 minutes before the deadline.

Published 2016-04-02 04:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-04-02 04:20:02 UTC

The Honeymoon Phase

The Honeymoon Phase, she had heard it called. The first heat season after assignment. Those first three months of your new life, where everything's great because you're getting what your body tells you it wants.

Scootaloo's Honeymoon Phase was now over. And it had left her with an ache in her belly and an anxiety gnawing on the back of her mind. She had been so certain that her new life with Rainboomer was what she wanted. Every day for the past three months she had woken up excited and energetic, and gone to sleep relaxed and contented. Her days were filled with lust and the satisfaction of quenching it. And Boomer had been by her side every day, to make her feel taken care of. She thought it was love. Now she wasn't so sure.

She was in the center of the bed, her legs entangled with Boomie's. Fireball was to the left of them, curled up in a tight ball. Zipporwhirll was to their right, her limbs splayed out like a starfish made of soft white fur. She hadn't minded this arrangement before. In fact, it had been her idea. She liked the thought of being closest to Boomie, and he seemed to like it too. Knowing that out of his three mares she was his favorite had made her feel warm inside. Now she just felt trapped, like she was sleeping in the middle of a minefield. One wrong move would wake them up, and then she'd have to explain why she wasn't asleep. And Boomie would nuzzle her and tell her it was okay, because that was what he did, and she'd believe him, or say she did, at least. And that kernel of doubt that was smouldering would be subdued, but it wouldn't be extinguished, which she knew would somehow make it even more unbearable, because he would never see it there.

What's wrong with you, she asked herself. No one else has a problem with this, so why do you? This is supposed to be fun. Why aren't you having fun?

She couldn't stay like this. Boomie was wrapped up so tightly in their embrace, and it put a pressure on her chest that made her feel like she was drowning. Very slowly, with painstaking care, she began to untangle herself from him. She froze, every time she thought she heard something, lying still until she could feel the gentle rhythm of his breathing again, letting her know he was still fast asleep.

This is wrong, she thought. He's your stallion. She felt like she was lying to him, which she knew was a sin. That had been hammered into her pretty well in school. A stallion should always please his mare. And in return, a mare must always be loyal to her stallion. It was how the world worked, the very foundation of their society. You couldn't argue with that. And the thought that could even think about being disloyal filled her with shame.

This wasn't the first time she had felt like this, but it was never quite this severe. Fortunately, she knew the cure. She finally finished disentangling herself from Boomie and crawled off the foot of the bed.

She stuck her hoof under the bed, reaching up between the boards that supported the mattress until she felt the item she had lodged up there: a bound leather book. One of the few items she had with her at the foster care system.

Technically, the book now belonged to Boomie. When the box full of her belongings finally arrived at her new home two weeks after she had, she was over the moon. She couldn't wait to show her stallion an object that was so important to her. And when she pulled it out, her entire new family was impressed. Just not for the reasons she had anticipated.

"Look at that binding," said Raincloud, Boomie's father. "This is a fine piece of craftsmanship."

"And is that gold fringe? Man you could fetch a pretty bit for it at the market," said Blaze, Boomie's older brother.

"What if I don't want to sell it?" Scootaloo asked, which only got a couple of chuckles out of the two older stallions. Boomie seemed about as confused as she was.

"Legally, the book belongs you Boomie," Blaze explained. "She's your mare, bro. Scootaloo can tell you what she wants, but it's your call."

Raincloud nodded. "I'd still sell it if I were you," he said. "This is a thing from her old life. She doesn't need it anymore. And take some advice from a guy with a lot more experience with mares: you need to show your mare's that you're the one in charge. Otherwise they think they can get away with things, and nopony wants that."

This was a habit of Boomie's father that Scootaloo would soon learn to recognize: he seldom explicitly told his children what to do. But his suggestions might as well be orders, unless someone wanted to earn his ire. Although he hadn't given the command, his desires were clear: Boomie was to sell the book. And as much as Boomie wanted to make Scootaloo happy, he wasn't about to openly defy his father.

This had been their compromise. Hide the book, tell Raincloud they had sold it, and let him believe what he wanted to believe.

"Hey," Boomer hissed from his spot in the bed, startling her out of her memories. Unlike Scootaloo, he didn't dare move and risk waking up the others.

Scootaloo's heart jumped, and she blocked the book with her body and looked back. In the dark, it was hard to make out his face. Was he upset with her? He never had been before, so why was she so on edge? She couldn't let him know how guilty she was feeling right now.

"What are you doing?" he whispered. "Come back to bed." But she hesitated. She didn't know why she hesitated. It wasn't like he was going to hurt her.

He sighed and crawled toward the foot of the bed. "Come on, Scootaloo, what's gotten into you? You know Zipporwhill's a light sleeper, and if she wakes up, none of us will be going to bed for a long time..." He wrapped his front legs around her neck and hugged her, his arms pressing into the book. Recognition sparked in his eyes. "Oh..."

Scootaloo reflexively curled her body to protect the book. "I'm sorry!" she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I know now's not a good time, I was just feeling really lonely."

Boomer seemed frozen. "You're lonely?" he asked, his voice quiet. "I thought you were happy with me."

Even in the darkness, she could see the betrayal on Boomer's face. She could hear a nagging voice whispering in her ear: you ungrateful mare, look at what you've done. "No wait," she cried. "That's not what I meant! I am happy! I mean..." Scootaloo trailed off, unable to explain feelings that she didn't herself understand.

"You just miss her," said Boomer. He moved to wrap her in a hug again, and this time Scootaloo didn't react. She leaned into him warm coat, that smelled of rainclouds, and tried not to cry, her cheeks burning.

"I never even got the chance to meet her. It's not fair," said Scootaloo. "I never even learned what happened. The matrons never talked about her."

Boomer stood up, pulling Scootaloo up with him. "Come on," he said. "We can go into the living room and look at it together, if it'll make you feel better." When Scootaloo gave him a look of disbelief, he tried to roll it off with a shrug. "I'm up now, so we might as well. If we hear anyone else up we just cut the light and wait for them to go back to bed."

Still in a state of mild shock, Scootaloo didn't resist as he guided her out of the bedroom (opening the door with a silent deftness that could only have come from practice) and sat them down behind the couch, where he lit a candle to give them light. The warmth of the candle made her feel less uncertain, and she placed the book on the floor between them and opened it. On the first page was a photograph, three mares sitting around a table, smiling at the camera. They were all older than Scootaloo, but not by much. The only one of them that Scootaloo recognized was the mare on the right, whose orange-yellow spiky mane was unmistakable even then: Spirfire, Fireball's mother. One of the other two mares was her mother. She didn't know this for certain, but this was what she chose to believe.

"I wonder where their stallions are," said Boomer. He had wondered the same thing the last time they had looked at it together.

"Maybe they don't have any stallions," said Scootaloo. It wasn't a thought she would have voiced if she had been more energetic, but now it slipped out. Of course they had stallions. Every mare with a cutie mark had a stallion, unless they were waiting to be assigned one. Even if a mare's stallion died, or was arrested, she would be reassigned at the next spring festival. Princess Cadance and her Ministry of Love made sure of that.

She flipped through the pages, each of which had a different photograph. Some of them were ancient, black-and-white blotches of mares whom Scootaloo didn't have the faintest idea who they were. But only mares, and not a stallion in sight. "It almost seems like these pictures are from a world where stallions don't exist," said Scootaloo. It was a tired half-joke, but she watched Boomer take it seriously, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

"But then who would take care of the mares?" he asked. Scootaloo shrugged, thinking it had been a stupid thought anyway. No mare will ever go unsatisfied, so long as she has needs to be met. Scootaloo repeated Princess Cadance's promise silently to herself, without even needing to think about it.

She heard footsteps coming from deeper in the house, and her ears raised, her body shifting into high alert. Boomer seemed to notice it too, because he extinguished the candle, dropping both of them into obscuring darkness. Scootaloo tried her best to control her breathing. She didn't want to think about what punishment Boomie's father would make him deliver to her if they were caught. But she was curious enough to peek out over the edge of the couch. And as she watched, Rainbow Dash tiptoed into the room.

What was Rainbow Dash doing out of bed this late? Scootaloo thought. Maybe she was just thirsty and wanted to quietly get a drink of water. Scootaloo wasn't sure if that was allowed or not. Maybe Boomie's dad had given her permission? But she didn't go to the kitchen. Instead, she turned the other way and headed toward their front door. She passed through and closed it silently behind her, with slow careful motions that could only have come from practice. Scootaloo looked back at Boomer, in case he knew what was going on. But his eyes were wide with fear. Likely, he had even less of a clue as she did, but he knew all too well that whatever Rainbow Dash was doing, it was definitely not allowed, and she could be in a lot of trouble if she got caught. Scootlaoo couldn't let that happen.

She come out from behind the couch and prepared to follow when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Boomer held her back, frowning.

"I'm going to bring her back," she explained.

"You'll get in trouble too!" he insisted. "We need to go tell Dad."

Scootaloo looked back and forth between Boomer and the door. She trusted Boomer. He'd always treated her like a mare. But Rainbow Dash had treated her like family. "I'm sorry, Boomie. I can't let her get in trouble." Dash was his sister, he had to understand, right?

Scootaloo gave chase, pulling open the door and bounding across the soft clouds after her surrogate older sister. And she had almost caught up with her when she heard the door slam behind her. She swore and looked over her shoulder, realizing that in her haste, she'd forgotten to close the door gently.

When she turned back around, Rainbow Dash was staring at her, with some combination of shock and dread. "Scootaloo?"

Scootaloo could tell her presence was causing Dash discomfort. This wasn't normal. This wasn't Rainbow Dash. "What's going on?" she asked, approaching her, but to her surprise, Dash backed away.

"Don't worry about it. Just go back to bed, alright? I'll be home by the time you wake up."

"No!" Scootaloo tried not to get emotional, but she didn't understand why Dash was treating her like this. "I really like you, and..." she scrambled to come up with a good way to describe her fear right now. "It's not safe to be out here alone.You need a stallion. You need Dad!"

"What? Scootaloo, Dad's not fit to protect anyone. I'd be protecting him. Honestly, I'd feel safer without a horndog like Dad trying to make sure I'm 'taken care of.'"

Scootaloo had never heard this kind of talk from Dash before. "I thought you liked Dad?" At least, that was always the impression she had gotten from them. Dash never seemed uncomfortable around her father, even when they were having sex. And it wasn't just the heat-driven craze she was now beginning to understand had filled her relationship with Boomie. It was something realer than that.

Rainbow sighed, weary. "I do like him," she said. "He's not bad, I guess. But that doesn't mean I want him around all the time."

Scootaloo understood that. As much as she usually liked being around Boomie, there were times she wished she could have more privacy or alone-time, like when she had to go to the bathroom, or just wasn't feeling up for the things they usually did together. "Are you just stretching your wings?" she asked. She knew that Rainbow could never stay in place for too long. Maybe she'd gotten antsy and had decided to relieve herself, but didn't want to wake Dad up?

"...eh, something like that," Rainbow answered. "Don't worry about it kiddo, just go back to bed."

The world was quiet. It was just her and Rainbow on a nearly empty expanse of cloud. A world without stallions, just like in the pictures. And yet Scootaloo didn't feel afraid.

Behind them, a light turned on in the house. Rainbow Dash gasped, and before Scootaloo could figure out what was happening, Rainbow grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her under the clouds. The condensation blasted her face, obliterating any remaining traces of nighttime weariness, and for the first time the true impact of what they were doing hit her.

This was wrong. It was one thing to step away from her family for a moment to relieve herself or stretch her wings, but this was running and hiding. Rainbow Dash had to know this was wrong. Was she running away? Scootaloo had refused to even entertain the notion at first. She knew it happened sometimes. Something in a mare would break, and she'd abandon the safety of her family for a dangerous life on the run. But Rainbow Dash would never do that, she thought. She wouldn't abandon Boomie. She wouldn't abandon her.

They broke through the cloud, and Scootaloo screamed. She still couldn't fly, and now without the safety of the cloud cover, Rainbow Dash was the only thing holding her up. She thrashed, and Rainbow tightened her hold on her, angling them onto a cloud cushion below them. Scootaloo pushed away from Rainbow and hugged the cloud, trying to catch her breath.

Rainbow watched her from a few feet away, wincing. "Sorry, kid," she said, rubbing her coat where Scootaloo had accidentally struck her. "I gotta take you back now. Looks like someone's up though, so we'll tell them I caught you sneaking out and brought you home before you fell off a cloud or something. That's our story, okay?"

Scootaloo pushed herself back up into a sitting position. "Are you crazy, Rainbow Dash? I'm not going to lie to our family. If you won't tell them this is all your idea, then I will!"

"No! They can't know about this. Dad'll go a lot easier on you, cuz you're so young. He'll tell Boomie to punish you, and we both know Boomie won't hurt you. If Dad finds out I snuck out..."

"Then why did you do it?" Scootaloo's heart was still painfully beating in her chest.

Rainbow Dash hesitated. "I'll tell you when you're older. You're too young. You're still just a kid."

"What? How am I kid?" Scootaloo turned to her side so that Rainbow Dash could see her flank. "I've got my cutie mark. I've got a stallion. I might be carrying Boomie's child right now. What more do I need before I'm grown up?"

Rainbow fell silent. She looked into Scootaloo's eyes, and saw something there she couldn't name. Stubbornness? Determination? No, she realized. Passion. That was what it was.

"You're right," she finally said. "Kids can't have kids. You're a grown mare, and you deserve to be treated like one."

"So you'll tell me what's going on?"

Rainbow Dash nodded, and she saw Scootaloo's eyes twinkle. Her fear gave way to hope. "I'll do you one better, kid... I mean, Scootaloo. I'll show you. But you have to promise me that you won't tell a single other pony what I'm about to show you."

Scootaloo nodded. "Of course."

"I mean it. Not even Boomie. No one can know."

This made Scootaloo pause. When Dash had said to tell no one, she hadn't even thought that would include Boomie. She didn't hide anything from Boomie. Not since he had helped her hide the picture book. "Why not? He won't tell anyone... Boomie's not a bad guy, Dashie! You know that!"

Rainbow sighed. "No, he's not. But that doesn't mean he's not going to grow up into one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hopefully nothing. He could turn out to be one of the good ones. I hope he does, and not just for your sake. He's my little brother! And he's a victim just as much as you are. Now hop on my back, we don't want to be late."

Scootaloo turned Rainbow's words over in her head, trying to make sense of them. "Late for what? Where are we going?" she asked as she pulled herself up onto Rainbow's back and nestled into her prismatic mane.

"Ponyville," was all Rainbow Dash said, and then they were off.

The World is Yours

Their destination was a two story building made of a hard smooth paneling. A spire rose out of the center, towering over them. Rainbow Dash confidently knocked on the door, then looked up into the spire, and Scootaloo caught a large shape moving within. A pony keeping watch, she supposed, but when it made eye contact with Dash it vanished. Within seconds, a panel on the front door slid open, and two large blue eyes stared out at them.

"What's the password?" a voice intoned, squeaky and so high-pitched it sounded like a game.

Rainbow stared right back. "Come on, Pinkie. You know it's me. Knock it off and let me in."

There was a pause as the blue-eyed pony considered this. "Ding ding ding! That's the password!" she finally said, and she opened the door ajar. She was a completely pink mare, a light pink coat with a darker and poofy mane. Rainbow Dash groaned and pushed the door open the rest of the way. Scootaloo tried to follow, but was stopped by an unexpectedly strong pink hoof. "And who is this cutie patootie?" the pink pony asked.

Scootaloo was trying to figure out the best way to answer when Rainbow answered for her. "That's Scootaloo. You know, Boomie's mare I was telling you about. I thought she might benefit from a little eye-opener."

"Her eyes already look pretty open to me," she chirped, getting in close to Scootaloo's face and studying her. The young pegasus backed up, the invasion of her personal space making her feel self-conscious.

Rainbow huffed. "Scootaloo, meet Pinkie Pie. She bakes a mean cake and thinks she's funny." Pinkie extended a hoof and offered a grin wider than anything Scootaloo had even believed to be possible. Scootaloo forced a smile back and shook her hoof. When she saw Rainbow Dash moving deeper into the building, she used that as an excuse to break away and follow along.

She could hear chatter in the next room, and as they got closer she could make out bits and pieces of it.

"...window's on the second floor, southeast corner, any pegasus can get in easy..."

"...said that Cadance knows what she's doing. Of course they'd believe him over her..."

"...said she can get on her hooves on enough fluid for a starter, her stallion doesn't count how much is left at the end of the day, but transporting it is going to be tricky..."

And then Scootaloo entered the room, and the chatter stopped. Four mares sat in a circle on the carpet, and now they were all staring at her. Most of them she didn't recognize, but she did recognize the mare at the far end, with her slicked-back orange mane and signature aviator glasses. After all, Scootaloo had been looking at a picture of her less than an hour ago.

Spitfire stood up, cracked a toothy grin, and laughed. "Scootaloo, right? I had a feeling you'd show up here sooner or later."

Fireball's mom, the mare of the captain of the Wonderbolts, knew her name? Scootaloo didn't understand how that was even possible. "Thanks," she told Spitfire. "I'm not really sure where here is though."

Spitfire looked at Rainbow Dash, who shrugged. "She caught me sneaking out. I figured it was about time she knew anyway."

She focused on the mare who just spoke. "You knew my mom?"

Spitfire slapped Scootaloo on the back and pulled her in for a side hug. "We sure did, newbie. Come on, I want to introduce you to some amazing mares. Everyone, come meet the daughter of Free Spirit."

"My stars, she looks just like her mother," said one of the other mares, a cream colored earth mare with a two-toned blue and purple curly mane. The other mares leaned in to see her better.

"That's Bon Bon," whispered Spitfire. "She makes the best sweets this side of the Everfree."

Bon Bon extended a hoof, and Scootaloo eagerly shook it. "It's great to meet you, Bon Bon. Who do you belong to?"

Suddenly, Bon Bon's grip tightened and her eyes turned cold. She broke the handshake. "I belong to no one," she said.

Scootaloo winced, feeling like she did something wrong but not comprehending what it was. It was just an innocent question she'd been asked herself dozens of time. "That can't be true..." she began, but she noticed they'd caught the attention of one of the other mares. This mare was short and round, with an elegantly groomed pink beehive mane on top of a pale blue coat.

"Be patient with her, Bon. You know what she meant." The new mare inserted herself between Bon Bon and Scootaloo. "I'm Cup Cake. Bon, Pinkie and I all have the same stallion. His name is Carrot Cake, and I promise you he's harmless. Sweet as a truffle. He owns Sugar Cube Corner, and we keep it running."

Scootaloo looked out over the collected mares. She had never seen so many mares in one place without a stallion before. "Does he know about this?" she asked.

Rainbow Dash nodded. "He's one of the good ones, but he stays out of the way. You can probably tell, he wouldn't really fit in here. But he's still on our side."

"And what side is that?" asked Scootaloo. Right now these mares seemed so kind, even though Spitfire and Bon Bon were somewhat intimidating.

"Mares' liberation, of course," said Spitfire. "I thought that was obvious."

Scootaloo felt shamed and confused. She'd heard Raincloud and Blaze grumble enough times about 'those uppity mares who are too stubborn to let stallions protect them.' But this was the first time she'd met one face-to-face. "You're not going to, um, liberate me, are you? I like Boomie. He's really nice to me..."

Bon Bon frowned and stared into her. "Good for you," she said, but there was a clear disapproval in her tone. Scootaloo gulped. The older mare seemed to realize she wasn't getting anywhere with her, because she continued. "No seriously, good for you. But not every mare is you, Scootaloo. And in case you haven't noticed, this is kind of a stallion's world."

"But what about the princesses?" asked Scootaloo. "They belong to stallions too. They wouldn't do anything to hurt their fellow mares."

"They're not. Mares," spat Spitfire with an intensity that startled her. "If Cadance decided that she didn't want to be Shining Armor's mare anymore, if she wanted to leave, who would stop her? Between the two of them, she owns him, not the other way around. The princesses don't have to cede any control like we do. They're not mares. They're gods. And they are not one of us.

Scootaloo was never really one for blaspheming the princesses, so she tried to change the subject, and she was curious about these mares. "So, do you like, not have sex with your stallions?" she asked. She had never really thought about it much, and the concept seemed strange. Bon Bon rolled her eyes, and Pinkie began choking on her muffin as she failed to contain a series of guttural guffaws.

"And give up Carrot's carrot?" asked Pinkie as she held her heaving belly. "He's so much fun! Where's the fun in not having fun?"

"Then what's your problem?" asked Scootaloo. "Why are you all fighting back if you're happy with him?" She could understand if he was hurting them. But based on their descriptions so far, this Carrot Cake stallion seemed all right.

"It's about choice, sweetie," said Cup Cake. "Pinkie and I choose to be with my Dough Boy. Bonnie, on the other hoof..."

Bon Bon shrugged. "I not interested in stallions," she said. "Never really have, to be honest."

Scootaloo remembered something like this from school. "But low libido's a symptom of lack of proper care, right?" she asked. "Aren't there trainers who can fix that?"
Bon Bon's voice took on an even sharper edge than had been there before. "My first stallion assignment was to a trainer," she said. "I may have been able to fool my family, but no one can fool Cadance, and she knew about my... transgressions from the moment she first met me. And so after I got my cutie mark, she assigned me to a Ministry-appointed trainer who specialized in 'fixing' ponies like me. You've never been to a trainer, have you, Scootaloo?"

"Um, n-no..." said Scootaloo apprehensively. "But I was kind of thinking about it. I'm worried that there's something wrong with me, with how I feel about Boomie. I thought that, you know, maybe a trainer could..."

"Don't," said Bon Bon, spitting venom. "Trainers are a fucking nightmare. Their job is to turn you into something you're not, and anything is better than that. Embrace your feelings, run away, hide who you are, but don't go asking someone to fix something that doesn't need to be fixed. Eventually I learned to play along so that he could mark me as 'fixed' and throw me back into the system, but all he'd done was taught me to hate myself. It wasn't until I met Lyra and she became my wife that I realized that anyone could love me."

"Wife?" It was a word that Scootaloo had never heard before.

"It's an old word. Nopony uses it anymore," explained Bon Bon. "It means... well, it's like she's my mare. But I'm also her mare. Not according to the Ministry of Love, but according to us. She... should be here by now, to be honest. You'd like her."

As the night went on, Scootaloo found herself drifting more and more toward Spirfire, the mare who had been in pictures with her mother. She found it easy to talk to her, like somehow the things she said would get back to her mother, wherever she was right now. Spitfire dodged questions about the mare she had called Free Spirit, but was more than willing to let Scootaloo say her piece.

"Do you know how many mares lose their virginity before their first assignment?" she asked at one point. "I know Rainbow Dash wasn't, because she lost it to her father. Zipporwhill told me how she lost it to a couple of the colts from school. Out of the three of us, Zipporwhill and Fireball and me, I mean, I was the only one who hadn't done anything. I didn't even know how it all worked. And I thought that was normal, but now I'm not sure. It was embarrassing. I didn't want to be the only one. Zipporwhill and Fireball had already done it by the time we got assigned, and they said they really liked it."

"Hold up there, newbie," said Spitfire. "Fireball's my daughter, so I like to think I know her. She was just as much of a greenhorn as you were, trust me."

That couldn't be right. "She said she'd had lots of sex with lots of stallions before we got put with Boomie. She wouldn't lie about that, would she?"

"You said yourself you didn't want to admit to Zipporwhill you were a virgin. Would you have lied about it, if you thought it would make you look cooler?"

"I don't know. I don't think I'd be smart enough to come up with something like that." Scootaloo tried to imagine what might have happened if she had lied to Boomie about being a virgin. Would she still have ended up as his favorite? And she tried to imagine what Fireball had been thinking, trying to convince everyone else she was some kind of sex expert.

She felt Spitfire put a hoof on her shoulder. "Look, newbie. There's nothing wrong with being anxious about sex, or not wanting to have it. I know you can go outside and see ponies fucking in the street, but I promise you, half of them are only doing it because they're think they're supposed to. The other half really like it. And you know what? Good for them. But take it from a mare who performs for a living, performing means you bottle up your own feelings and put on a show to make everypony else happy, and the pressure of that can be overwhelming sometimes. But even if you decide to just roll with it, being able to recognize that it's happening... it opens your eyes, Scootaloo. You're not the only one who feels this way, I promise."

Scootaloo's face flushed with embarrassment. She'd never been able to talk with anyone about this stuff. She'd always assumed Fireball and Zipporwhill would dismiss her as being a downer, and Boomer... Boomer would never understand. Scootaloo looked up at Spitfire and was about to thank her when a sudden commotion distracted them.

"Bonnie!" She looked up to see a mint green unicorn mare standing in the aperture.

Bon Bon looked ecstatic. "Lyra!" She was on her hooves in an instant, and the two met in the middle of room, Lyra burying her face into Bon Bon's mane. Bon Bon cradled Lyra, stroking her back with her hoof. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, as Bon Bon held her face in her hands. "He tried to hold me up, but nothing's going to keep me from you!"

Bon Bon giggled and pulled Lyra into a corner. "Oh, come here, you. I missed you so much!"

Scootaloo looked at Spitfire. "They really love each other, don't they?" she asked. "I've never seen two ponies act like that before." She paused, and frowned. "Princess Cadance senses love, right? She knows the best stallion for every mare. Why couldn't Princess Cadance tell that Lyra and Bon Bon would be happiest together and made sure they ended up with the same stallion?"

Spitfire looked down at the young mare in her lap. "You're pretty perceptive, you know that? Just like your mom.There's an easy answer to that question, and it's the most important lesson you'll ever learn. Cadance can't find your soulmate for you because soulmates don't exist. Love, and I mean real, true love like you're looking at right now, isn't something that you sense, or find. It's something you make. Together. And not even the Alicorn Princess of Love can shortcut that."

And here Scootaloo's thoughts drifted toward Boomie, and the way she'd run away from him, and how she was going to deal with that once she went home. "Do you think Boomie could be my soulmate?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Spitfire. "He may not be a kid anymore, but he still has a lot of growing up to do. He's young, and a lot of this world's ideas about stallions and mares may not have done him in yet. He could turn out like Carrot Cake, an ally and a friend. This is a battle for your freedom. It's a battle for your kid's future. But it's also a battle for his soul. Both of you are going to inherit this world when the ponies my generation pass on. And then it'll be your kids' turn. Might as well make this world the best it can be."

"You really think we do that?" she asked. "Change the world?"

Spitfire sighed. "Honestly? This is a battle we're probably not going to win in our lifetimes. But that does not," and as she said 'not' she pounded her hoof onto the floor, "mean that we will not fight it."

An Enemy of the Ministry of Love

Scootaloo was quiet on the flight back home. Rainbow Dash made occasional glances over her shoulder to make sure she was still there, but otherwise let her be. Scootaloo settled into Dash's mane, her eyes unfocused and looking toward the ground rushing below them. It was easy to just get lost in the racing shapes and images.

The first time she had met Rainbow Dash, it was in the middle of both their heats. "Hey Dash," she said, nudging her. "Was this stuff on your mind when we first met? Back when Boomie was rutting us both like he was?" She didn't want to say 'taken care of', her usual euphemism was wavering in her mind now. "Just, you seemed to have a one track mind then."

"So did you," Rainbow Dash reminded her. "I was pretty much just riding the wave. I like sex. Lots of ponies do. And Boomie's not bad. That's the thing about new colts. They may not know how to do an amazing job, but the fact that you can almost be in control a little makes them safe. But it was always on my mind. I was fine because I knew what I wanted and all, but I was kind of worried about you. I just didn't know how to say it."

The lights were all out at home when Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash arrived back home. "Get back in bed, quick as you can," said Rainbow Dash, "and no one's the wiser." Scootaloo nodded and dismounted, and they carefully opened the door and tiptoed inside.

"Scootie?"

Scootaloo tensed up until she registered it was Boomie's voice. She couldn't see anything in the darkness, but she thought it was sweet that he'd stayed up for her.

"I'm back," she told him, hoping it would put his mind at ease.

"About damn time," said a thicker gruffer voice that was definitely not Rainboomer.

The lights flicked on, and all three stallions of the Rainbow family stared back at them. Raincloud was sitting in his armchair, his walking cane at his side and a dark saddlebag in his lap and his two children flanked him on either side. Blaze looked like he was barely able to restrain his panic and anger. Raincloud had a dangerous calm about it. And Boomie looked like a anxious and tired puppy. Scootaloo was only able to lock eyes with him for a moment before he turned away, shame turning his face a pale red.

"Where. The hell. Have you been," said Rainstorm, Boomie's father.

Scootaloo was paralyzed, unable to think of how to answer the question. But Rainbow Dash reacted quickly. "It's not her fault!" Dash blurted. "She caught me sneaking out and I took her with me so she wouldn't tell. Please don't be mad at her!"

"What? Dash, no!" cried Scootaloo. Now that she understood why Dash had snuck out, she couldn't let her take the fall. But she couldn't bring herself to dispute the claim either.

Raincloud sighed. "Blaze, can you handle her for me? I want to have a little talk with Scootaloo." His eldest son nodded and advanced on Dash, grabbing her around the next and pulling her away. Dash panicked and tried to latch onto Scootaloo's leg, but her grip slipped. She struggled as Blaze dragged her into his bedroom. Raincloud fixed his eyes on Scootaloo, who without Dash's protection suddenly felt very small.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad at you," he said. "Tremendously disappointed in both of you, but not mad. Because you don't know any better. But you need to learn how to behave. And you," he swiveled in his chair and pointed his cane at Boomie, "need to learn to discipline your mares so they don't act out. We want her to be a good mare, don't we? And that means she doesn't go filling her head with any foolish notions. And if she does, we need to correct it. Don't you agree that she needs to be punished, Rainboomer?"

At this point, Boomie's posture had shrunken him so much that he was barely visible. He whimpered something in response.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Boomie," said Raincloud. "I'm not blaming you either. Everyone makes mistakes with their first mare. And your mistake is being too soft. I know, you want to love them. But you need to discipline them too. Otherwise they walk all over you."

He reached into the saddlebag, and from it now he drew a riding crop. Scootaloo's breath caught in her throat and she stepped back, and Raincloud shook his head. "I'm not going to punish you, Scootaloo. It's not my place, and you're not my mare." He dropped the crop on the floor in front of Boomie. "Rainboomer, discipline your mare."

Boomie stared at the crop, like it was a snake that would hurt him if it got too close. "You want me to..." he started, hoping that he was somehow misunderstanding what he was to do with this.

"Do I need to demonstrate how it works?" Raincloud asked. "I'm sure you've seen one of these before. It's a simple tool for disciplining mares who misbehave."

"Come on, Dad," said Boomie. "I'm sure she's learned her lesson. Can't we just move on?"

"And that attitude," Raincloud very nearly screamed, punctuating each word, "is going to cost you the loyalty and respect of every mare you ever own. First Scootaloo goes Celestia-knows-where, maybe next Fireball fools around with another stallion! Zipperwhill steals your bits while your back is turned! Is that what you want?"

"No, b-but..." Boomie was a mess now, swallowing hard to keep from crying.

"Then you will prove to me you know how to discipline your mares."

Shaking, Boomie picked up the riding crop. Scootaloo began to heave. "Boomie..."

"I'm sorry, Scootaloo," he said. He drew back the crop and brought it to bare square on Scootaloo's muzzle. She screamed and shielded her face with her hooves, quivering and exposing her rump.

"Again."

"I'm sorry, Scootaloo."

When they finally finished, Raincloud stood over Scootaloo's bruised body, frowning. "I had high hopes for you," he said. "But it turns out you're a scoundrel. Just like your mother."

Over the course of her punishment, Scootaloo had retreated to someplace deep inside herself, where the blows of the riding crop couldn't reach her. But this drew her out again. "Don't talk about my mother," she said, her eyes fixing on him with hatred for the first time. "My mother was a hero."

He laughed. "How would you know? You never even met her!"

"She loved me!"

"Then where is she now, huh?" Raincloud pinned her beneath him, his body pressing lewdly against hers, his mouth near her ears. Where was Boomie? she thought faintly. "If she loved you so much, why did she abandon you? Your mother's a murderer, Scootaloo. She's in prison. And if you don't learn some fucking respect, you're going to end up just like her." He chuckled. "When her father named her Free Spirit... I wonder if they had a fucking clue what she would become."

He laid on her for a little bit longer, but he finally sighed and rolled off. Free to move, Scootaloo looked up and saw Boomie in the corner, still holding the riding crop, watching in terror.

"Clean her up and get her to bed," said Raincloud. "I hope this was a good lesson for both of you."

She followed Boomie into their bedroom, where Fireball and Zipperwhorl had somehow managed to sleep through this entire turn of events. That was a relief, at least. She didn't think she could handle talking to them right now. But through her exhaustion, it took her a couple seconds to notice that Boomie wasn't in bed, he was crawling under it.

He emerged, holding her book in his hooves. "What are you doing?" asked Scootaloo. Seeing his hooves on it unsettled her now, even though it hadn't before.

"I'm not getting in any more trouble." Something had changed in his voice. "I'm telling Dad that I found the book, and we're going to sell it, just like he suggested."

Scootaloo rushed forward and tried to grab the book from him. But he resisted and held on tight.
"Let go of it," she told him. She didn't have the energy to explain herself right now. She just needed him to let go. She'd never seen this sort of strength and stubbornness before. But then again, he'd never seen her like this either. "Give it to me! It's mine!"

Without warning, Boomie shoved the book into Scootaloo's muzzle, rubbing it against the cuts from the riding crop. Scootaloo squealed and released her grip as she dropped to the floor and held her nose.

"You're my mare, so it's my book," he told her. They both knew that was the law. "Don't worry, Scootaloo. I'll use the money to buy something nice for you. Maybe a dildo or something."

"I don't want a dildo, you asshole," she muttered under her breath.

But he still heard her. "You should really be more grateful," he said. "I'm trying my best to keep you satisfied." And then he vanished from her view, and Scootaloo couldn't find the strength to lift her head and see where he went.

After several minutes, he finally returned. "Get up and let's go to bed," he told her. He sounded tired too.

Scootaloo whimpered and curled up into a ball. Boomie sighed and sniffled, and Scootaloo realized he was crying.

"I'm sorry, Scootie," he said. He knelt down and hugged her, making her flinch. "I didn't want to hurt you. Why did you make me do this?" asked Boomie, tears staining his cheeks. "I didn't want to do this! Why couldn't you have just been a good mare?"

"Boomie..." Scootaloo could barely see.

"I stuck out my neck for you! I hid the book because you asked me to! I thought we trusted each other! I thought you loved me!"

Scootaloo said nothing.

"Forget it. Let's go to bed now." He helped pick her up and move her into the bed. But his touch felt like ice. And for the first time, she refused his embrace in bed, and he didn't push the issue. Fireball opened one eye before groaning and turning her back to her and quickly falling back to sleep. But Scootaloo couldn't sleep. Raincloud's words continued to echo in her head: "You're a scoundrel, just like your mother." And Scootaloo found the strength to smile. She wondered if her mother was proud of her, and wherever she was right now, she knew that she loved her. For the first time that night, she didn't feel lonely at all.

Into the Dark

Author's Note

I had a lot of ideas for this story. This was one of them. Consider it a deleted scene / left on the cutting room floor kind of deal. If Scootaloo ever found her mother, this is what would happen. I felt it was worth including.

Into the Dark

The warden closed the door behind her, and Scootaloo was dropped into a dark pond. For a moment she could see anything, and only Boomie squeezing her hoof reminded her that he hadn't left her. She stood rooted to the ground, her legs refuse to carry her into the darkness, where she no longer even knew if there would be a floor to support her. She closed her eyes, and it made no difference to what she could see. But she could hear now, her own heartbeat, the sound of Boomie's deep breathing beside her, and a third sound, of air being filtered through something in irregular intervals, a coarse heaving of a creature's labored breaths.
Her eyes were adjusting. She could make out faint outlines now, between the floor and the wall, between the wall and the metal bed that she had glimpsed just before the room had fallen into darkness. And she saw movement from the bundle at the foot of the bed.

"Mom?"

The pony stirred, and the sound of metal sliding against stone rang sharply. It raised its head and looked back at her, the scant light that remained somehow reflecting off its eyes with corneas larger than Scootaloo had ever seen, with no trace of white.

"Mom? Is that you?" The pony didn't respond, but its breathing became more controlled. Its eyes were wide, perhaps from fear, and Scootaloo could hear her metal restraints jingling against the floor. Did she not recognize her? "Mom, it's me, Scootaloo. Please say something." Why was she being so quiet. Scootaloo didn't know if her mother was going to rebuke her, or hate her, but the silence was worse than anything she could have said. She felt terrified now, that the wrongness she was feeling right now meant that there was something wrong with her. This was a mistake. She shouldn't have come. Her courage was draining fast. "Please Mom, talk to me. I came all this way... I didn't even know if you were alive and I had to see you. I don't care if you don't love me or care about me, just tell me, please!" Her words were catching in her throat as she struggled to hold back tears. She felt Boomie squeeze her hoof again, but it didn't do anything.

She heard more grinding as her mother crawled toward her, but she was stopped before she made it several feet, held back by chains. Her eyes never left Scootaloo, those watery eyes that seemed impossibly large, as if Scootaloo might lean too far forward and fall into them. And she felt herself falling, her hoof slipping from Boomie's as her legs carried her forward, until she was kneeling on the floor in front of her mother. And now she could see why her mother hadn't said anything: a leather muzzle kept her mouth shut. And then Scootaloo started crying. All she had wanted was a chance to talk, to ask her who the other mares in the book were, ask about her father, and what had happened to his other wives, to ask whether Scootaloo had any siblings, and if her mother had loved them. And now here she was, together with the mare who had given her life, who could give her the answers that she felt unwhole without, but still they were apart.

The cold leather of the muzzle pressed against her face, and she realized that her mother was nuzzling her. She wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, squeezing her as tight as she could, sobbing onto her shoulder. "I came so far to see you," she whispered. "I tried so hard. I wanted to see you so bad."